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Chapter Text

Glarn Curious reclined in the hospital bed, propped up by a pillow. The white sheets only accentuated the waxen quality his skin had taken on over the past days. Pascal sat at his side, never imagining this would happen to his dad. Pascal always pictured his dad passing suddenly in his sleep with no decline. In truth, part of Pascal thought his father was immune to senescence. Glarn was larger than life to his children; it was earth-shattering to think such a man would leave the world so easily and in such a way. Glarn Curious was not long for this world, but he would not die today. 

“Pascal,” Glarn said his son’s name in a rattling exhale. His eyes scanned the room for his oldest son, unaware that Pascal sat beside him. “I’m here, Dad.” Pascal squeezed his father’s hand and leaned in close in an effort not to miss a single word. Glarn cleared the saliva from his throat in a phlegmy cough and caught his breath as Pascal wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You’re my favorite.” Pascal sat expressionless; typically, he would be inclined to lecture his dad for making such a remark. He was simply grateful his siblings were not around to hear it. He imagined Vidcund bringing that up in every future argument.

Pascal simply said, “You’re my favorite, too.” Glarn hacked up a laugh and smiled for the first time since being hospitalized. Pascal smiled too, but his eyes continued to show his anguish. After a moment, Glarn’s expression turned to stone, and he squeezed Pascal’s hand back with all the strength he could muster. “Give up on aliens,” the words pierce through Pascal. “How did you-?” “I saw your notebook.” Pascal never knew his dad to tell him to give up on anything. For Pascal, meeting aliens would be the one thing that set him apart in his career. It would be the thing that got him out from under his dad’s shadow. Pascal gave his father a curt nod, “Okay, Dad.” 

Glarn found the strength to sit up; he spoke louder, “I can tell you’ve made up your mind already, but you must change it. This is my last wish. I forbid you from contacting aliens, Pascal.” Pascal sat silently, grappling with his desire to meet extraterrestrials and his father’s dying wish. “I won’t do it, Dad. You have my word.” Pascal did not feel that his voice belonged to him in that moment; the words just came out of his mouth. Glarn relaxed into the pillow, “You and I are just alike. I know you’ll be digging that telescope out of storage before my body is cold.” Pascal could not reply; he sat holding his dad’s hand. He disliked it when people compared him to his father. He hated it when they were right.

Another cough rattled through Glarn’s chest before he could get his words out, “Do you know what happens to guys who meet aliens?” Glarn’s voice began to shake as fear seized his expression, “The aliens use them as hosts for their young. The parasites burst out of you. It, it…” Glarn’s voice trailed off as tears welled in his eyes. Pascal got the suspicion that his dad was speaking from experience. He gently grabbed Glarn’s shoulder with his other hand. “You can’t do it, Pascal. I don’t want you going through that.” Pascal kissed his dad on the forehead as he formulated his question. “Dad, did you? I mean… Were you abducted?” Glarn shoots Pascal a wounded look.

Tears fall, and he cannot speak. He passes his eyes over Pascal’s face, looking for a forgiveness he did not know how to ask for. He never viewed the aliens who once dwelt in his body as his children, but he knew that Glabe raised two daughters as if they were her own somewhere in the world. Glarn hated himself for running. He hated himself for what he did to Glabe. He hated himself for living with such a large secret. He tried to carry this burden daily, but it got heavier each time he woke up. Pascal watched as his dad sank back into the abyss of unconsciousness with tear-stained cheeks. “Dad?” Pascal gently shakes Glarn’s shoulder, unable to rouse him. He never intended to dredge his father’s trauma back to the surface. No matter what, Glarn would always be a hero to Pascal. “Dad, I love you. I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

Vidcund opened the front door, drenched in sweat. He took his sport coat off and washed his face at the kitchen sink. “Again? Bro, just let it go,” Lazlo, still in his sweatpants, looked over at his brother from the couch. “It’s about common decency, Lazlo. People should know better than to use their telescopes during the day!” The two brothers lived together at 73 Cover Up Road; it was intended to be a bachelor pad, but neither man could get a date. Vidcund went to the couch. He sat next to Lazlo, holding an icepack to his neck.

“Did anyone call about Dad?” Lazlo sighed as he thought about their father, “Jenny says he’s holding in there.” “Anything from Paz?” Lazlo shook his head at Vidcund’s question. “That fucking guy,” Vidcund muttered. “That’s just Paz, dude.” “No. It’s just Paz when we only see him at work. It’s just Paz when he doesn’t return our calls.” Vidcund formed his hands into fists as he spoke, “Dad is dying, and he doesn’t have the decency to talk to us? He’s an asshole.” Lazlo shook his head, “Paz is just different, man. He doesn’t mean to offend anyone.” Vidcund and Pascal were best friends growing up. It was not until Vidcund reached his teens that a rift emerged between the two. Vidcund felt cast aside. Suddenly, Pascal was too busy. Pascal’s attempt at wooing Circe and his admittance to La Fiesta Tech marked the end of the friendship he and Vidcund shared. Pascal’s aloofness only gave Vidcund a reason to hold onto his grudge even tighter. “We’ll go see Dad after I take a shower,” Lazlo said, changing the channel.

Jackson Medical Center boasted its reputation as the ‘Best Hospital in Strangetown.’ It was the only hospital in Strangetown. The large facility spanned both sides of the road. On one side was the hospital, and the urgent care and emergency room were across the street.

Vidcund gasped as he entered the hospital room. Glarn had deteriorated drastically since he had seen him a day ago, “He looks like-” Jenny cut him off mid-sentence, “Dad can still hear, Vidcund. Keep it positive.” “Sorry. Hi, Dad.” Vidcund and Lazlo sat next to each other at their father’s side. “Hey, Dad,” Lazlo said, as he looked at Glarn. He was hooked up to tubes and wires; the nasal cannula hissed softly as the heart monitor beeped. Lazlo turned his attention to Jenny, “Where’s Paz?” Jenny rested her elbows on her knees, and the lack of sleep began to creep up on her. She yawned before replying, “He went home. He was here all night.” Vidcund crossed his arms over his chest. “He went home because we’re visiting today.” Jenny pinched the bridge of her nose and mentally counted to ten. “No Vidcund. Paz was here all night. It was time for him to go home.” “Whatever,” Vidcund adjusted his fringe with his fingertips as he contemplated the situation with Pascal. 

“Dad, I got a promotion. I’m doing great at work! I must be rubbing all the right elbows, I got promoted before my brothers.” Lazlo cheerily talked to his dad as Vidcund stewed bitterly. Vidcund was still working as a test subject; he viewed Lazlo as living life on easy mode. “Viddy, tell Daddy some good news,” Jenny prompted. Vidcund scoffed, trying to think of anything positive that happened to him. “I um… My African violets are blooming like crazy. They look great, too. Remember how Mom had one in the kitchen, and then it got crown rot? I have one that looks just like Mom’s did, and it’s huge.” Talking about this upset Vidcund, plants were the most positive thing of note in his life. Jenny gave him an approving nod. “Johnny and Jill will be stopping by later, Daddy.” Jenny rubbed the back of Glarn’s hand with her thumb while she held it. The three of them sat with Glarn and talked for a while; the passage of time was marked by how the shadows stretched over the mesas beyond the window. ‘You boys should go to the cafeteria before it closes. My kids will be here soon.” Lazlo got up, eager to stretch his legs. Vidcund did the same. “Dad, we’ll be back soon,” Lazlo paused for a reaction that would not come. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was a change-of-life baby. He tried not to envy his siblings for having more time with their parents. 

Lazlo concentrated on the fork in his hand. He envisioned the tines braiding together through the power of his mind alone. Visualization was the key. Concentration was paramount. Vidcund typically encouraged this because it was one of the few times in Lazlo’s life when he was silent. Today, however, Vidcund found himself wanting his younger brother’s company. He did not want to sit in the stillness of the hospital cafeteria. He did not want to think of his dad dying a few floors above him. “What would happen if that worked? How would you explain that to the staff?” Vidcund used his pinky to point at the fork in Lazlo’s hand; it was still in perfect form. Lazlo briefly looked up from his task, “I’d use telekinesis to bend it back, duh.” Vidcund tore a corner off his pastry and set it back on his plate. He was not hungry. Vidcund looked out the window and watched wispy clouds form over the mesas.

Chapter Text

The following seventeen hours passed without incident, then Jenny noticed Glarn’s breathing change. His hands became cold and mottled with purple blotches. These were signs she was all too familiar with. Vidcund could not sleep after the call. He lay in bed with his eyes closed as the sun brightened his room, even with the curtains. He got out of bed tired, poured his coffee, and sat in his usual spot tired. Lazlo opened his door. He wore his gray robe open over his sweatpants. Lazlo’s eyes were puffy, and his voice was raw. “Hey.” “Hey,” Vidcund echoed before drinking his coffee. Lazlo poured himself a cup, went to the fridge, and dolefully stated, “We’re almost out of creamer.” “I’m sorry, Lazlo.”

Vidcund watched as Lazlo went through the motions of his morning routine, “He’s your dad, too.” “Yeah, but you’re the youngest. It’s fucked up to be dealing with this at your age.” Lazlo went to his usual spot to drink coffee. Vidcund’s words did not change anything. It would happen anyway, no matter how unfair it was for Lazlo to become an orphan in his early twenties. “Do you think he’s scared? Does he know he is dying? Is he in pain?” Lazlo’s voice had thousands of hairline cracks; he did his best to hold back the flood. Vidcund thought about Lazlo’s questions and the best way to answer without upsetting him. “I don’t think he’s in any pain, Jenny said he was on a high dose of morphine. If he’s not in pain, he probably isn’t scared. I do think he knows that it’s the end.” 

Lazlo silently nodded; he came to the same conclusions last night. 

Vidcund drank more of his coffee before speaking again, “We’ll go see him soon.” Lazlo sharply sucked in air, “I kinda don’t wanna see him. I don’t wanna remember Dad like this.” Vidcund was speechless and then vexed, “We have to see him. He would do the same for any of us! I can’t believe you, of all people, would say something like this.” The cracks in Lazlo’s voice started to give way. He did his best to talk through the tears. “I don’t have memories of Mom and Dad like you guys. I can barely remember Mom before she got sick. Dad has been old for most of my life. I don’t want to think about Dad and remember him in that hospital bed.” No one in the Curious family was a fan of vulnerability; Lazlo’s levity could easily be mistaken for guilelessness. Vidcund took a moment to think as Lazlo wiped his face with his robe sleeve. “You’ll regret not seeing Dad. You don’t want to live with that.”

Pascal and Jenny were already at Glarn’s side when Vidcund and Lazlo walked in. Pascal’s eyes momentarily flashed with wistful inadequacy. Vidcund read this as disappointment. It did not matter to him, however. Their dad was his top priority. “Hey,” Jenny whispered as her remaining brothers gathered around their patriarch. A Conway Twitty CD played softly on the stereo in the room. Glarn’s eyes were glassy and half-lidded. Jenny held his hand in both of hers, “We’re all here, Daddy. It’s okay.” A weak groan overlapped Glarn’s shallow and labored breathing as he looked at the people around him. They looked like family, but he could not name them through his delirium. Glarn moved restlessly. “We love you, Dad.” The man with the round glasses at his side spoke. While Glarn did not know who he was, he knew he loved him.

 Vidcund placed a hand on Glarn’s shoulder to ease his dad. “I’m gonna be late to the airport,” Glarn mumbled as he struggled to sit up. Pascal gently squeezed his dad’s arm. Lazlo sniffled as he rested his hand on Glarn’s leg. “You’re not gonna be late. You’ll make it on time,” Jenny cooed in reassurance. Glarn recognized the face of the woman speaking to him, “I’m scared, Kitty. Everyone is in the room right now. Glabe-” Tears stream down Jenny’s face and land on the linens on the bed. Lazlo is freely crying while Vidcund chokes up. Pascal takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes. Jenny knew that the best way to comfort their dad in his final moments was for her to enter his reality. She was Kitty for the moment. “They’re here because they love you, Glarn. Don’t be scared.” Jenny switched back to being herself. “I love you.” Her brothers echoed in a chorus, “I love you, Dad,” “I love you,” “I love you.” Glarn relaxed and went quiet. He was gone. 

Chapter Text

Pascal was now the only person living at 2 Cover Up Road. The first thing he felt following Glarn’s death was relief. Glarn was not around to decline anymore. He was no longer suffering. Pascal did not have to sleep with his door open to hear his dad call for him in the middle of the night. The house was now too big; the labyrinth of staircases leading to open sky begged for a purpose. Pascal felt predictable as he fished the telescope and equatorial mount out of storage; he was barely strong enough to carry them to the roof. The clouds hung over Strangetown in a pall. Tonight was not the night for Pascal to meet aliens. As he descended the staircase back into the house, his computer pinged. Pascal’s friend was online and sent him a message.

No0ne_Rlly: [U there?]

Pascal sat in front of the monitor as he read the message. The person on the chatroom's other end was a stranger and a friend. They had met just over four years ago on a board dedicated to Y2K. Pascal was deflected each time he tried to learn the man’s name. At one point, the person sending him instant messages told Pascal he did not have one. Pascal imagined he was talking to someone in a bunker, keeping his identity closely guarded so he would be one step ahead of everyone when SHTF. Pascal placed his fingers on the keyboard.

CuriousPaz1972: [My dad died today.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Sorry for ur loss. I was thinking about u and ur dad.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Thank you. I appreciate it.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I’m here for u]

No0ne_Rlly: [I mean that]

Pascal sat numbly as he stared at the screen. He was a tadpole in a shrinking puddle. Glarn had been his closest friend, and his small world became smaller. Pascal remembered the resentment he saw on Vidcund’s face in the hospital room; if only he had made more of an effort to be a better brother. If only he had the social connections to lean back on in his grief. The stranger in the chatroom was Pascal’s sole friend. The silence in the house was getting to him. He turned on the TV for the company it provided.

Chapter Text

The cemetery was a green patch in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. The palo verdes here kept their leaves almost year-round. A squadron of javelinas stood a hundred yards away, rooting in the lawn. The Curious Siblings stood at the gravesite; they flanked an urn containing Glarn’s cremains that sat on a small table. “We appreciate you all coming out,” Pascal addressed the attendees, including Paul, his niblings, and several of Glarn’s surviving coworkers. Pascal stood in silence, unsure of how to proceed. The silence stretched out longer than was comfortable. “Dad was one of a kind. They don’t make guys like him anymore,” Vidcund felt the need to say something. He felt the words were clumsy and inadequate, and words failed him. Vidcund momentarily forgot everything his dad ever did, and everything his dad was. Jenny took the lead, “This one time, Dad took us to Three Lakes. We got lost on a hike and somehow ended up at a rapid,” Jenny looks to the crowd and focuses on her husband and children. “Dad took us through the woods, and we all ended up walking through a patch of poison ivy. The van reeked of calamine lotion for years after that.”

A few people in the crowd respond to Jenny with a chuckle. “Anyways, what I mean to say is Dad was the kind of guy who always had a plan B. Those plans might not have always been the easiest, but Dad could think of his way out of any jam.” Jenny places an arm around Vidcund, “Vidcund is right: they don’t make guys like Dad anymore. He was one of a kind, I-” Jenny turns away from the crowd and cries into Vidcund’s chest. He puts his arms around his sister and cries as well. Lazlo is compelled to join the hug. He cries out of grief for his dad and for how little time he got with his parents. He could not recall the trip to Three Lakes with clarity. Pascal sighed in sorrow before wrapping up. “It was hard to watch Dad decline, and it was hard to watch him in pain. He’s free from that now; wherever he is, I know he’s with Mom. We’ll always love them and always miss them.” Jenny pulled Pascal into the huddle, where they all cried. 

The pile of grieving siblings was a concentrated mass of heat in the otherwise cool December day. They disbanded, covered in sweat and tears. Johnny and Jill joined their mom and uncles as Glarn’s urn was placed in the plot next to Kitty’s. The couple shared a granite companion headstone. Each participant took turns shoveling soil until the grave was full. Paul stood off to the side and watched, feeling at odds with himself for his role in Glarn’s life. Their meeting experience left an indelible mark on both men’s lives. For Paul, pollinating Glarn was disturbing enough to cause him to retire immediately after the fact. Neither man spoke about the experience; they simply shared uncomfortable glances at Paul and Jenny’s wedding. The two men avoided each other after that, despite Jenny’s attempts to get them to bond. Some part of Paul felt that their encounter was fate; had it not happened, Glarn might not have divorced Glabe. Jenny might not have ever been born. Still, Paul would carry the guilt for the rest of his life.

The Curious Siblings finished saying goodbye to the last of the attendees at the cemetery gate. “We’re going to the meeting house,” Jenny looped her arm through Paul’s bent elbow as they walked to the car with Johnny and Jill. “You’re coming, right?” Paul shook his head, “I think I should take the kids home, dear.” Jenny stopped walking and looked up at her alien husband. “It’s bad luck to go home right after a funeral.” Paul could not help but smile; he knew Jenny to be many things, and superstitious was not one of them. Paul kissed the top of Jenny’s head. “Then I’ll take them out for ice cream.” Jill, who was suffering through the ordeal of wearing shoes that pinched her toes, immediately perked up when she heard her dad say that. Jenny wanted to roll her eyes. Paul spoiled the kids. She did too, but she was only making up for working long hours. Jenny looks over at her son and daughter, who were wilting from the gloomy atmosphere of the funeral. “Fine. But one scoop each, okay?” Paul tenderly kissed his wife, causing their children to say “Ewww!” Paul adjusted the collar of Jenny’s dress. “I’ll try, honey.”

Chapter Text

The meeting house had former lives; it was at one time the city hall before it became a schoolhouse, and after that it was a church. In more recent decades, it was simply a third space for people to congregate; it was often used to host memorial services after funerals. “I wonder what Mom and Dad would think,” Jenny elegantly held her glass of chardonnay by the stem as she looked over at Pascal sitting alone in a pew; he seemed deep in thought. Vidcund huffed, “They did this.” Vidcund stared at the back of Pascal’s head, like he was trying to bore a hole through it. “Mom and Dad spoiled the shit out of him, mostly Dad. It was bullshit that they only sent Paz to private school.” 

Vidcund noisily shakes the large ice cube around in his whiskey glass. Jenny has tried to ignore Vidcund’s recent episodes of anger, knowing that they came from a place of grief, but his words caused her to look at him with disgust. “Why does it sound like you hate Paz? It’s not his fault that Dad had a favorite. I thought you were old enough to know that.” Jenny tried to lay her hand on Vidcund’s shoulder, only for him to shrug it off. “I don’t hate Paz. I’m pissed that I only see him at work; it’s like he’s avoiding us.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “You know how he is. He’s introverted.” “He’s stuck up, Jen.” Vidcund took a small sip of whiskey and grimaced. He hated the taste of whiskey and only got it because he thought it would make him look sophisticated. “You know Mom and Dad would tell you to knock it off,” Jenny said. Vidcund could not meet her green eyes, “I know.”

Lazlo still stood in the cemetery at his parents’ headstone. Jenny watched him from the window, “He shouldn’t be dealing with this at his age.” Lazlo was only a few years older than Johnny, and they barely missed going to high school together. Seeing Lazlo at the graves made Jenny think of her husband’s advancing age; for a moment, she saw Johnny standing at Paul’s grave. “I always knew he would be dealing with this shit too soon,” Vidcund admits as he swirls his whiskey on the rocks, the ice clinks noisily against the glass. Vidcund sighs, “Poor guy.” Standing beside Vidcund made Jenny feel worse; she went to the pews.

“Hey,” Jenny said, sitting next to Pascal. Pascal glanced in her direction before his eyes returned to the floorboards. “Hey.” “Thanks for taking care of him, Paz.” Pascal did not reply. He did not think what he did for their dad deserved thanks from his siblings. He thought about how he had neglected his relationships with them since leaving for La Fiesta Tech. Kitty’s death hit everyone hard, but Vidcund and Lazlo still lived at home; they were still kids. Pascal knew he could have stepped in; he should have come home, but he wanted to make Glarn proud. He had to focus on his studies to be a scientist like his dad. 

Taking care of Glarn in his twilight years seemed like the only way Pascal could repay him for the life he had given him. In that time, Pascal and Glarn were not only father in son, they were best friends. With his passing, Pascal’s number of friends was halved. Jenny placed her hand on Pascal’s back and rubbed it sweepingly, “Mom would have been so happy with the way you stepped up for him. You are a good son.” Pascal felt tears in his eyes as his throat tightened; he could not speak. He could not tell Jenny and his brothers that he was sorry for not being there like he should have been. Pascal removed his glasses so he could silently cry. Jenny felt the faint quivering of Pascal’s back under the weight of his grief. She withdrew her hand and let him cry in peace. 

Lazlo finally entered the meeting house, standing at his parents’ grave did not make him feel better as he had hoped it would. He did not want to be here. He did not want his parents to be dead. He wanted to drive down the road to the house he grew up in. He imagined opening the front door and seeing Glarn at the dining table, hunched over his research while Kitty poured him another cup of coffee. Lazlo would step inside the house, and everything would be normal. He would make up for lost time with his parents. 

Lazlo found himself walking towards Vidcund. Vidcund did not want to talk to him; he did not want to talk to anyone. He was angry, disappointed, but mostly sad. Lazlo grabbed a cocktail napkin to wipe the drying tears from his face. “How long do we have to be here?” Lazlo grabbed a few more after realizing one would not finish the job. Vidcund huffed, “Fuck if I know.” Jenny approaches Lazlo and hugs him tight. Vidcund wanted to remark that Jenny always touched people in a snarky manner, but he decided to hold off. “I’m so sorry, Lazlo. You’re just a baby.” Lazlo laughed lightly despite his grief. “How many babies do you see in the hospital with soul patches?” Jenny could not help but return his laughter, still holding her youngest brother close.

Chapter Text

♢♢♢

“Why aren’t you in bed, buddy?” Glarn set his keys in the bowl on the coffee table as Pascal slept on the couch. The television had gone static at midnight; Glarn knew that his son had been out of bed for hours. Pascal woke up as Glarn lifted him in his arms; he smelled like Dial soap and cigarettes. “I couldn’t sleep,” Pascal murmured groggily as he wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck. Glarn wanted to be mad at Pascal for sneaking out of bed, but all he could muster in that moment was tenderness. Pascal was getting too big to be carried. Glarn knew that the day he would pick Pascal up for the last time was fast approaching. “That’s false. You were asleep when I came home,” Glarn could not sound convincingly stern as he tried to scold his son. Pascal was relaxed in his arms as Glarn carried him to the room he shared with Vidcund. “Why weren’t you in bed, Paz?” “Idunno,” the boy mumbled as he fought to stay awake. Glarn had a hunch about why Pascal would try to stay up that night: “Is this because my hours got changed at work?” Pascal nodded, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Glarn put Pascal in bed and removed his glasses before placing them on the nightstand. “I wanted to make sure you came home,” Pascal admitted; the nightlight barely illuminated Glarn, and Pascal could scarcely make out his dad’s face without his glasses.  “Paz,” Glarn began to tuck his son into bed. “I’ll always come home. You can count on me.” Glarn kissed Pascal on the forehead and tousled his hair. He turned around in the doorway, seeing that Pascal was already asleep. “Goodnight, buddy.”

♢♢♢

After Glarn died, Pascal fell into a new routine of hunching over a keyboard when he was not at work. His daily bowl of mac and cheese often sat next to the monitor until it was cold, then he would microwave it, only to let it get cold again. Microwaving his dinner began to seem useless, as he ate his dinner cold more often than not. Pascal saw his days stretch out before him, the same pattern repeating endlessly as if he were stuck in a time loop. 

CuriousPaz1972: [Do you ever think about being dead?]

No0ne_Rlly: [Ya.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I think if something happened to me right now, it would be days or weeks before anyone knew.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I’d know.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I mean my family. Even people at work. They might just assume I was doing independent research or something.]

No0ne_Rlly: [People would know. They would know sooner than u think.]

CuriousPaz1972: [You can’t be sure. You ever seen those news stories about people being found mummified in their apartments?]

No0ne_Rlly: [I would tell someone.]

It touched Pascal to know that a stranger he had known for over three years over the computer would go to such lengths for him. 

The moon rose over Strangetown, bringing her entourage of stars and other heavenly bodies. Pascal ascended the stairs, drawn to the telescope, knowing his dad would not want him to do this. He could see everything in town from the roof; some of the homes were decked in festive string lights. The first thing Pascal did was initialize and set up the equatorial mount before he used the telescope. The next thing Pascal did was hold onto the railing for dear life while caught in the UFO’s tractor beam. Eventually, the aliens would have to give up their task. Pascal’s heart thudded in measured rhythms; maybe Glarn was right. He called for help, but no one was around to hear him. His sandals went before he lost his grip on the railing and found himself bathed in a cold, bright light. Pascal momentarily wondered if babies had a similar experience when they were born, forced from what is comfortable into a world of overwhelming light. 

Green men surrounded Pascal, and he could not move; a force beyond anything he knew froze him. The aliens chattered while they entered data into a computer. One alien took a blood sample while another took saliva. “Don’t hurt me!” Pascal now wished he had listened to his dad. He feared that the aliens would eat him or take him to galaxies away, so he could eventually die in their version of a zoo. In hindsight, seeing the UFO cut across the moon was enough. He should have gone inside after that. “I-I have a family! I’m sorry! Please let me go!” An alien replied to Pascal in a guttural chatter; his companions laughed uproariously. Another alien approached Pascal with a large syringe.

Contained within the barrel was a lentil-sized green thing suspended in a transparent blue liquid. Pascal panicked when he saw the size of the needle. He tried to fight against the forcefield keeping him in place, but his body would not move. “No! No! Don’t hurt me!” An alien turned a dial, and suddenly Pascal could not scream. The needle penetrated his abdomen. Suddenly, his memory became hazy. Suddenly, Pascal was back at home. Pascal was numb, and he sat on the couch. He did not know how long he had been in the UFO. Pascal wished his dad were still alive; he fell asleep on the couch with the television on.

Chapter Text

Pascal woke up, certain the events of the night before were nothing but a bad dream. He lifted his shirt to examine where he dreamt that the aliens had injected him; it was only a small red bump. It could have been a bug bite. Pascal got ready to visit his brothers. Lazlo was in the basement of the house he shared with Vidcund; if anyone asked him what he was growing in his hydroponic garden, he would emphatically state that he was growing tomatoes. If someone pressed him because they knew what tomato plants looked like, he would claim that he got the seeds from someone who told him they were tomato seeds. It never came to that; Strangetown PD had more pressing matters than to slap a stoner with a possession charge, and Lazlo was careful about his hobby. He picked up on gardening by watching Vidcund. Instead of cloning African violets, Lazlo cloned cannabis. 

Vidcund reveled in the solitude that Lazlo’s hobby provided him. He only cared about his brother's partaking when Lazlo would park himself on the couch and giggle himself silly over cartoons. For now, Vidcund used this time to play chess on the computer. Both men stopped what they were doing when the doorbell rang. Lazlo emerged from the basement, and Vidcund looked up from the computer. The brothers asked each other in unison, “Did you order something?” Vidcund said, “No,” while Lazlo shook his head. Vidcund checked the peephole, “It’s Paz. Why’s he here?” Lazlo elbowed Vidcund out of the way so he could see, “Paz!” He swung the door open, accidentally smacking Vidcund’s arm with it, “Watch it!”

Pascal stood before his brothers; one beamed at him excitedly, the other glowered at him in annoyance. Pascal was suddenly unsure why he had decided to visit in the first place; he missed when he and his brothers were a unit, but the unit was gone. The unit only existed when their parents were living. Pascal was merely an interloper within his own family. He stood on the porch as he thought of a reason to leave. “Don’t just stand there! Come inside!” Lazlo grabbed his oldest brother by the hand and dragged him inside the cramped living space. “This place has a basement! Can you believe it?” Pascal marveled at how little natural sunlight was inside the home. “Your place looks cozy.”

Lazlo gave Pascal a tour, explaining how he and Vidcund planned to gut the interior as soon as they could afford it. Vidcund stood with his arms crossed, waiting for Lazlo to finish showing the house to Pascal. “Why are you here?” Vidcund asked coldly. Pascal did not feel he could begin to explain his overwhelming loneliness since Glarn’s passing, nor how he regretted letting his relationship with his siblings fall by the boards. “I wanted to see you guys. I wanted to reconnect.” Lazlo nods understandingly, “We missed you too. Now sit down and stay awhile.” Pascal sat at the dining table, and Vidcund scoffed. “I had plans. He can’t stay long.”

“This guy,” Lazlo slings a thumb in Vidcund’s direction, “He is on a crusade to make sure people don’t use their telescopes during the day. You should see him come back all red-faced and sweaty after slapping the neighbors.” Vidcund felt his neck grow warm with embarrassment as Pascal asked, “Why does he care so much?” “IT’S ABOUT THE PRINCIPLE!” Vidcund’s voice was nearly a strained shriek; he did not mean to yell. “Relax, dude. Maybe you should go lie down.” Anger was brewing within Vidcund. He hated it when Lazlo spoke to him like a child, “How about you stop telling my business to anyone who stops by?” “This is family, dude.” The dam was about to break, “Stop ‘dude’ing me.”

Pascal sat uncomfortably at the table as he realized Vidcund still had an angry streak in him. In some ways, Vidcund never really grew up. “Vidcund,” Lazlo placed his hands before him and moved them down slowly, “You need to calm down. Count to ten.” “GODDAMIT I’M NOT A CHILD!” Vidcund retreated into his bedroom and slammed the door. “He grieves with anger.” Lazlo got Pascal a soda from the fridge. Pascal pushed his chair out. “Maybe I should go.” Lazlo grabbed his hand again, “Don’t leave! Vidcund will be fine in a couple of minutes. We never see you anymore, Paz.” A wave of guilt washed over Pascal as he scooted his chair closer to the table. Lazlo inched his chair closer to his brother, “What’s new with you?” Pascal shrugged as he remembered his dream from last night. “Nothing much. I talk to this guy over IM,” Pascal drummed his fingers over the top of the soda can. Pascal could not make eye contact with Lazlo as he said, "He is kind of my only friend right now.” Lazlo clapped his hands, “It’s awesome you have a friend, man. Vidcund and I are all we've got right now. It’s good to have someone in your corner.” Pascal hesitantly looked at Lazlo, who was smiling warmly at him. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

Vidcund came out of his room. He wished there was a way he could make others forget about how he acted when he got too angry. Vidcund found his temper humiliating; it only served to discredit him. It gave people a reason to believe he was driven solely by emotion. “Why are you here, Pascal?” Vidcund’s voice oozed with contempt. As much as Vidcund tried to live by the rules of logic, he could not ignore that he had feelings. Emotion was his lodestar. Pascal cleared his throat before answering, “I told you-” “I am not interested in the excuse you gave earlier. After years of ignoring us, why did you decide to visit now?” Lazlo and Pascal exchanged a look, knowing full well that Vidcund would not drop this. Lazlo turned around in his chair to face his blond brother, “He’s here now, man.” Vidcund huffed and stood by the table, looking down at Pascal before directing his attention to his younger brother. “That’s just like you, Lazlo. It’s so easy for you to forgive because you easily forget.” “Vidcund,” Pascal interjected, “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for not keeping in touch.” Vidcund folded his arms and scowled, “You think an apology will fix everything after all these years? You think speaking three syllables will change the way you distanced yourself after Mom died?” Pascal held his hands on the cold can of soda on the table. 

Nothing he said could change how he acted in his early twenties, but he had to say something. “I don’t- I’m- I can’t think of anything to say other than I deeply regret my actions, Vidcund. I would like to be in your life now.” “You’re just saying that because now you live alone in that ridiculous house.” Vidcund’s face was contorted in anger and hurt. “If Dad were still alive, you wouldn’t be here. Pascal Curious only sees his family at weddings and funerals.” Pascal sat in silence as Vidcund’s words cut to the bone. Pascal knew Vidcund was right: he was only here because Glarn was dead. Pascal understood that he deserved his alienation. “Vidcund!” Lazlo snapped. “What the hell has gotten into you?” Lazlo held Pascal’s shoulder. “I like having you around.” Pascal stood up and began to exit the house. “Of course you’re leaving,” Vidcund remarked. “That’s what you’re good at!”

Chapter Text

Days passed, and Pascal was not keeping count. He turned the ringer off on the phone, a move made partially in self-pity and partially to avoid having awkward conversations with Jenny and Lazlo. Pascal was sure that the eggs he bought just days ago had already gone bad; the smell of them cooking made him feel nauseous. As a result, Pascal ate less and slept more. When he did eat, it was usually boxed mac and cheese. 

CuriousPaz1972: [My brother hates me.]

No0ne_Rlly: [?]

No0ne_Rlly: [R u sure? Did he say that or r u just thinking it?]

No0ne_Rlly: [Maybe he just wants what’s best for u]

CuriousPaz1972: [I visited about 2 weeks ago and he laid into me.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Why would you suggest he wants what’s best for me?]

CuriousPaz1972: [Hate isn’t a normal way to show concern.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Idk. I’m sorry]

No0ne_Rlly: [My roommates get mad at me when I don’t listen to them]

No0ne_Rlly: [Cuz they care about me]

Pascal sat and watched the messages pop up on the screen. He knew he was messaging an adult, but sometimes his friend messaged like a child, especially with how he spoke of his roommates as if they were his parents.

CuriousPaz1972: [I think you should get new roommates.]

This was a conversation killer. Anytime Pascal suggested that his friend’s roommates were less than stellar, the chat room would be silent for a period that would last either minutes or hours. Pascal’s bowl of mac and cheese was once again cold. He opened the microwave to find last night’s dinner there. Pascal had been inexplicably exhausted lately; this was bound to happen. He ate his reheated dinner at the dining table so he would not be distracted. The instant messenger pinged as he washed the dishes.

No0ne_Rlly: [They aren’t bad. They do a lot for me]

No0ne_Rlly: [They gave me a new computer]

Normally, Pascal could not pass up the opportunity to pick anyone’s brain. He was drawn to the untapped psychological minefield of the man behind the screen and how he justified his roommates' repeated offensives with the gifts they showered upon him. So much of the man was a mystery. But lately, Pascal could barely take care of his own needs. The psychoanalysis would have to wait. 

CuriousPaz1972: [I think I’m too stressed lately. I didn’t eat yesterday, I forgot about it in the microwave.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I mean my dinner.]

No0ne_Rlly: [ :-( ]

No0ne_Rlly: [U gotta eat]

CuriousPaz1972: [I already did. I think I’m gonna go to bed early tonight.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Talk to u tomorrow?]

CuriousPaz1972: [Of course. Night, buddy.]

No0ne_Rlly: [ :-) night]

Pascal Curious was a man who believed everything had a logical explanation. Nothing was attributed to a ‘higher force,’ life was just a series of causes and effects. The universe was simply made up of atoms. Still, as he fitfully tossed and turned in bed, he could not shake the feeling that he was being cosmically punished. His abdomen was sore, and he could not sleep on his stomach as usual. Pascal woke up before his alarm, feeling less than rested.

Pascal avoided his brothers at work, which stopped when Vidcund got promoted. Pascal sat in the cafeteria of Division 47, hoping that Vidcund would not spot him in the crowd of scientists. Vidcund approached from behind, a tray of food in hand. “I’ve been trying to apologize. You haven’t been answering your phone.” Pascal just listened as he ate a chicken teriyaki bowl. Vidcund fidgetted next to his brother. “I’ve been reading self-help books about managing my anger, and uh…” Pascal turned his head and stared at Vidcund, struggling to imagine him reading anger management books. “I realized that my anger is rooted in grief, and it’s unfair of me to take it out on people.” Vidcund cleared his throat, “I’m trying to say sorry. If you're open to it, I want to repair our relationship.” Pascal tried to reply but was overcome with emotion and started to cry.

Vidcund looked at his brother with concern. He never knew Pascal to be outwardly emotional. “Paz?” The crying was also a mystery to the eldest Curious Brother; he hid his face in a paper napkin and wept, unable to stop himself. Vidcund found himself in an awkward situation; he typically disliked physical contact, but he felt it would be a faux pas not to put an arm around Pascal. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea this was taking such a toll on you.” Pascal wiped his face, the wave of emotion started to pass, “I don’t know why I’m crying, I think it’s just stress.” 

Chapter Text

Pascal turned the ringer on the landline back on when he got home from work; he was beginning to think that it was immature of him to turn it off in the first place. Pascal’s emotions were getting the better of him lately, but that was to be expected with a significant loss. Pascal traded his jeans for sweatpants, he was bloated despite eating less. Pascal went through his new routine: chatting on the computer, then dinner, followed by more chatting until it was time for bed. He knew that sometime he would have to invite his siblings over to go through Glarn’s belongings, but that day could wait until he felt better. 

The cutting ring of the phone woke Pascal up. He shuffled to the receiver, bleary-eyed. “Paz?” Jenny’s honeyed voice was at the end of the line. Pascal tried not to sound like he just woke up, “Jenny?” “The boys and I are about to head over there to go through Dad’s stuff. We’ll help you clean up. See you soon.” Pascal put his glasses on to read the time on the phone base. It was almost noon. Pascal panicked mildly as he looked around; the house was in no shape for guests. “Jen, wait! I, um, well, I just woke up. We should do this another day.” He heard Jenny mumble with annoyance on the end of the line, “I don’t get much time off, you know.” Pascal imagined Jenny tapping her foot as she often did when things did not go her way. “No, I know that. It’s just it’s a wreck over here. Please just give me time to clean up.” Pascal could barely hear Vidcund’s muffled voice over the phone.

Jenny translated for him, “Viddy says he’ll help you clean up. We’ll see you in ten.” Jenny hung up before Pascal could say anything else, leaving him standing dumbly in the kitchen. Pascal made the most of his time by washing his face and changing his clothes. Pascal watched as his siblings pulled up. He went outside to greet them with a wave. “It’s so unlike you to sleep in this late,” Jenny said, pulling Pascal close for a hug. He felt fragile in her arms. “Are you eating okay?” “I’m fine,” Pascal’s history of depression was unspoken knowledge within the family. Jenny saw it creeping in again. She hugged Pascal longer than usual. Jenny pulled away to study Pascal’s face, making no effort to hide the concern on her’s. Pascal broke eye contact, looking at the pile of newspapers on the ground. “I’m okay, Jen. It just hasn’t been easy, you know how it is.” “You shouldn’t be living alone,” Jenny suggested in a hushed tone. Pascal narrowed his eyes as he looked at his sister again, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Vidcund draped his sport coat over the back of the dining chair and rolled his sleeves, ready to get to work. He groaned when he saw the bowl, spoon, and saucepan in the sink. “What the hell happened here?” Vidcund turned the tap on as Pascal flushed in embarrassment. “Those are clean.” Vidcund clicked his tongue in disapproval as he rewashed the items, “If they were clean, they wouldn’t be in the sink.” Jenny opened the fridge while Pascal was distracted, “Why do I only see eggs, butter, mustard, and milk here? Where’s the food?” Jenny opened the freezer to find only frozen vegetables and ice cream. She turned to Pascal with her arms akimbo. The scrutiny made Pascal want to crawl out of his skin. “I’ve been eating mac and cheese most nights.” Jenny approached her brother, eyes full of restrained anger. “Pascal Marshall Curious,” Pascal was backed up against the wall. “You’re eating that much sodium daily?” 

Pascal’s voice was muted in fear, “Well, sometimes I forget to eat.” Jenny’s eyes flickered between concern and rage. “Are you trying to have us bury you, too?” Pascal imagined what it must be like to live with Jenny; he wondered how often his niblings were taken on guilt trips. Pascal looked in Jenny's eyes, “You’re not my mom.” “Mom would tell you to eat mac and cheese with weenies.” “Oh my god, I haven’t had that in forever!” Lazlo caught the last bit of the conversation as he left his dad’s room with a laundry hamper. “I’m ordering groceries,” Jenny grabbed the phone from the receiver. “Oh, don’t do that,” Pascal tried to hold the phone before Jenny pawed him away, “Too late, Paz.”

Glarn’s room was ransacked. The siblings sat on the bed, reviewing a box of yearbooks, letters, and other mementos that Lazlo pulled from the closet. “Glabe…” Jenny held her finger on a message written in delicate cursive on the flyleaf of Glarn’s last high school yearbook. “Does anyone remember when Dad said that name before he died?” Pascal and Vidcund wordlessly nodded. Lazlo felt left out, “I thought he said glade or something. He wasn’t all there. He thought you were Mom.” Jenny shook her head as she looked at Lazlo, “He said Glabe.” Jenny read the note out loud, “To my Darling Glarn, thank you for showing me the stars and more. I’m so happy to be yours, I love you.” Jenny flipped to the senior portraits in the yearbook, looking to put a face to the name. There was a girl with cropped and curled hair and a strand of pearls around her neck. She wore light makeup. Jenny tapped the portrait, “Glabe Singles. She’s pretty cute!” 

Vidcund began digging in the box, searching for more information about Glabe. The idea of his father being stuck on an ex-girlfriend was a balm to him. Vidcund could not help but think about his situation with Circe. He pulled out a stack of tied letters from the bottom of the box, Glabe’s name written on the return address of each of the envelopes. In the letters, Glabe asked Glarn about how his studies at LFT were going; she made allusions to dates they went on throughout. The last letter was sent shortly before Glarn’s graduation, in which Glabe gushed about her engagement ring. “No freaking way,” Jenny held her fingers to her temples in shock. She grabbed the box from Vidcund and began to dig with momentum, stopping when she found a bifold picture frame. She opened it, revealing a photo of Glabe in a scoop-neck long-sleeved wedding dress on one side, and Glarn and Glabe standing together on their wedding day on the other. “Oh my god.” Jenny looked at her brothers in shock, and they looked at each other. No one had anything to say about it. There was simply nothing they could say to each other in that moment. 

Lazlo shrugged. “So what if he was married before? This is just drama.” Jenny walked with her brothers as they carried Glarn’s belongings to her car; she would be storing them in the unfinished room at her house. Jenny replied, “I’m just wondering why he never told anyone.” “Maybe he still had feelings for her.” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at Vidcund after he said that, “Or maybe he didn’t. Jeez, I was just putting that out there.” “He did say her name right before he died,” Pascal offered. Jenny thought momentarily, “But we don’t know how much of that was hospital-induced delirium.” Lazlo nodded in agreement with his sister. The siblings return to the house to take Glarn’s coffee table to the car. Pascal and Vidcund stood on opposite ends of the table. It was then that Pascal fainted, his upper body landing on the couch on the way down.

Chapter Text

“He’s waking up,” Pascal found himself on the couch, his feet elevated with pillows. Jenny crouched beside him, “Don’t move, Paz. You fainted.” Lazlo and Vidcund stood behind Jenny, bewildered and worried. “I’m okay. I was just dizzy,” Pascal tried to sit up, but Jenny pushed him back down with her palm, “I said don’t move.” “I said I’m okay,” Pascal felt himself getting annoyed with his big sister. “Can I please have my glasses?” Jenny reached behind her to grab the round frames from the coffee table before handing them to him. “How long was I out for?” Jenny waved her hand in front of her, as if to shoo something away, “Literally under a minute. I had the boys put you on the couch.” “Lifting boxes and Pascal; that’s what I did today,” Lazlo curled his arm up, showcasing an average muscle tone. Neither Jenny nor Vidcund reacted to the antics, their minds fixed on Pascal’s health. 

“You should go get checked out at urgent care,” Jenny suggested softly, almost pleading. “He’s been acting off lately,” Vidcund added. “He burst into tears at work,” Pascal glares daggers at his brother, “My dad died recently, genius.” Jenny’s eyes widen slightly from witnessing Pascal’s forthright anger. Pascal sat up, rebuffing Jenny’s attempt to keep him horizontal. “Just leave me alone.” Jenny went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water for Pascal. “Don’t get mad at me for agreeing with Vidcund, but not only are you acting off, you look exhausted too.” “I am exhausted!” Lazlo and Vidcund retreated into the kitchen after Pascal snapped. Vidcund stood in the corner while Lazlo worked on dinner; the men watched Jenny and Pascal from a safe distance. “I’m sorry,” Jenny said, sitting on the swivel chair in front of the computer. Pascal sipped the water, waiting to cool down. 

The instant messenger chimed to life, and Jenny spun the chair to look at the screen. Jenny was unfamiliar with this method of communication. “You got an email, I think?” “I’ll talk to him.” Pascal got to his feet, dizziness clinging to him like static. Jenny quickly got off the chair and stood close in case her brother needed her help. “Talk to who?” Pascal’s fingers danced on the keyboard, “My friend.” The messages went back and forth swiftly, at the pace of talking in person. A smile tugged at the corners of Pascal’s mouth as he read the latest message sent to him. Jenny had had enough with computers; Johnny spent too much time on his. “You don’t know who you’re talking to, Paz. It’s probably some unemployed weirdo living in a basement.” Pascal shook his head, “I’ve been talking to him for years now; he’s not any weirder than me.” Jenny shrugged; her brother was an adult who could do what he wanted. 

Lazlo called from the kitchen, “Spaghetti is almost done, guys.” Pascal felt his stomach lurch at the thought of marinara. He sprang from his chair, running to the bathroom. “My cooking isn’t that bad, dude.” Vidcund approached the bathroom to confirm his suspicions, “Paz is sick! Oh fuck, I can’t get sick right now.” Pascal had his head in the toilet bowl, retching his empty stomach even emptier. Jenny stood beside Vidcund, putting the pieces together, as he continued his spiral, “He should have told us over the phone that he had a stomach bug! I sat right next to him the other day at work, fuck my life-” “Not now,” Jenny raised a hand to her brother to make him shut up. The instant messenger continued to chime in the background. Pascal cleaned him self up and exited the bathroom pale and clammy. “You’re going to bed.” Jenny grabbed Pascal’s arm and led him towards his room. “Vidcund, run to the store and get me Gatorade and those ginger candies.” Vidcund nodded at his sister as she threw him her keys. “But I was in the middle of a conversation,” Pascal protested. Jenny did not relent, “We need to have a conversation.”

Chapter Text

Jenny sat on the foot of Pascal’s bed and watched him regain color. “You used the telescope.” “So? I don’t know where you’re going with this.” The room around Pascal spun slowly, keeping him in constant light dizziness. “Paz,” Jenny patted her brother’s knee. “I think you do know.” Lazlo entered the room with a glass full of ice. After setting it on the nightstand, he cautiously looked at Pascal and Jenny. The anxiety on his face let his siblings know he was deeply concerned for his infirm brother; he wore the same expression the day Glarn died. Jenny reassured her youngest brother, “He’s okay, Lazlo.” “Does he need a bucket?” “A bucket would be great, thanks.” Lazlo left the room, set on his task. Jenny returned her focus to Pascal, “You were pollinated. That means that unless you go to a clinic, you’ll have a baby.” Pascal’s head felt light, and Jenny’s voice faded into the background. Jenny stood up to grab his hand and keep him grounded. Pascal focused on his sister, “A baby ?” Jenny nodded, “When the Sixamese abduct eligible males, they always pollinate them.” She did jazz hands, “Congrats! You were eligible.” 

Pascal sat dumbstruck when Lazlo returned with the bucket. Lazlo immediately picked up on the tense atmosphere and looked at his siblings again. Jenny turned to him, “It’s okay, Lazlo. I just need to talk to him.” Lazlo gripped the bucket. “Is he dying?” Jenny couldn’t help but chuckle, “No!” She waved her little brother out of the room. The door shut, and Pascal waited to hear Lazlo walk away, “You don’t know I’m pollinated for sure.” The blonde stared at him, “I know you’re pollinated for sure.” Pascal opened his mouth to speak, but Jenny beat him to it, “Remember, I’m married to a retired pollination tech.” She handed Pascal the glass of ice, “You’re dehydrated. Suck on an ice cube.” Pascal started to mildly panic as he followed her command.

“Still,” Pascal said with the ice in his mouth, “You don’t know for certain. I could have food poisoning.” Jenny sympathetically patted her brother on the head. “Okay, Paz. Just remember you need to go to check-ups for your food poisoning every month until week twenty-eight, then you’ll have to go every two weeks.” Pascal sat in denial as his sister spoke, “And I recommend you start taking prenatals for your ‘food poisoning,’ because it will get those nutrients one way or another. Those vitamins are for you, not the baby- I mean, ‘food poisoning.’”

Jenny smiled, finding herself quite funny. Pascal felt an uncharacteristic rage building within him; his effort to conceal it failed spectacularly. “Will you shut up, Jenny?! I’m not pregnant!” Just then, the brother and sister notice Vidcund standing in the doorway, gripping a grocery bag. “I uh- I’ll just leave these with you.” Vidcund sheepishly handed the candy and drinks to his sister before quickly leaving the room. Jenny spoke solemnly, “Look, Paz, I know it’s a huge deal. I want you to know you have options, and if you don’t want to be pregnant, you don’t have to be. You could also give it up for adoption.” Pascal was angry, but his mind was already made up: “If I am pregnant, I’m keeping it.” Jenny was taken by surprise. “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.”

Chapter Text

Jenny found her other brothers sitting on Glarn’s worn-out couch, deep in a hushed discussion. Lazlo looked up and pointed a finger at her, “It’s you who’s pregnant, right?” Lazlo nods his head preemptively, sure that Vidcund got the details wrong. Jenny did not return the nod, she shook her head instead. “Paz is pregnant.” Jenny watched the color drain from Lazlo’s face as he looked to Vidcund in shock and then back to his sister. “Like, metaphorically? Like, Paz is pregnant with ideas or something? Pregnant with a food baby? There's no way he's actually pregnant, right?” Jenny and Vidcund exchanged looks; she was deciding on the best way to tell Lazlo about the alien version of the birds and the bees. “Lazlo,” Jenny approached her youngest brother, speaking in a honeyed tone. “We won’t know for sure until Paz gets an ultrasound, but when a man decides to use a telescope and the aliens like him very much-” “Jeez, Jen! The man is old enough to drink!”

Vidcund flushed with embarrassment, “Look, Paz got probed and now he is the host of an alien.” Lazlo’s eyes widen in shock, “You mean?” He gestures the act of probing with his hands, Vidcund nods slowly. Jenny flushed, realizing her brothers were still childish and crude. “Hold on! That did not happen! How would the baby survive birth?” Lazlo and Vidcund shrug their shoulders in synch, a testament to how living together had made them alike in some aspects. “The embryo is implanted submuscularly and embeds itself to the abdominal muscles. It creates like uh, a-” Jenny paused to think of the best word. “Well, it’s sorta like a womb. Anyways, the aliens take vitals rectally, but that’s all that happens back there, and I can’t believe I have to explain this to you guys.” Jenny was bright red and half mortified despite being a nurse. The three of them were silent for a beat before Lazlo broke it, “Ha, you said rectal.” 

Vidcund drummed his hands on his knees as he thought about how he should ask his question. “Is Paz keeping it or…?” Jenny crossed her arms and fought a sigh, “He’s keeping it.” Vidcund’s mouth hung open in shock, “How is he gonna raise it? He lives alone! He forgets to eat !” Jenny rubbed her temples. Vidcund was right, Pascal could not raise a baby alone. “I’m gonna have another nibling!” Lazlo recovered from the shock and was now radiating excitement. “Dude, I was meant to be the fun uncle. Johnny and Jill already know all my classic material, but it’ll be new for Paz’s kid.” Lazlo smiled as he mulled it over, “I need a shirt that says ‘The Funcle.’ I need to go to the craft store after this.” Jenny could not help but smile as she shook her head. Lazlo did make a fantastic uncle, even though he and Johnny were more like brothers due to their closeness in age. 

Jenny's thoughts returned to Pascal. She crossed her arms. “Guys, I need to talk to you about something serious, though.” The instant messenger on Pascal’s computer chimed again, and the three siblings ignored it. “Pascal shouldn’t be living alone anymore.” Having heard the chime, Pascal opened his door and stuck his head out. “You should be in bed!” Jenny turned to him and used the intimidating tone she used for patients who did not listen to her. “Give it a rest, Jenny. This is my house.” Pascal went to his computer, carrying a Gatorade with him. He wasted no time in replying to his friend. “Paz, I need to talk to you.” Pascal was absorbed in his task and did not hear his sister. Jenny tried again, “Paz.” His computer chimed, and he began to read the reply sent to him. Jenny was fed up, “Pascal Curious if you don’t get off that damn computer-” Pascal swiveled his chair towards Jenny, “I’m talking to someone right now.” Jenny glowered at her brother, “And I need to talk to you. Actually, I need to talk to all of you. This concerns all of us.” 

Pascal began to type a message that conveyed that he had to go again, and Jenny pressed the escape key before he could send it. It was Pascal's opinion that Jenny had done nothing but aggravate him all day. “That was uncalled for.” Jenny took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “I don’t think you should live alone anymore. You have options-” Pascal swiveled his chair back to his computer and booted it up, “I’m not leaving this house.” Jenny balled her hand into a fist and held it at her side, digging her nails into her palm out of frustration, “Pascal! You will hear me out! You’re such a pill today! Either you move in with me, or you move in with the boys.” Pascal shook his head, “I told you I won’t leave this house. I can make it work.” Jenny scoffed, “I don’t know if it’s depression or ADHD or what, but you have a hard enough time taking care of your own needs.” Pascal took offense. He held a hand to his chest indignantly, “I took great care of Dad.” Jenny kept her composure despite wanting to scream, “A baby is so much different than anything you’ve ever dealt with, Paz. You’re gonna need help.” Pascal knew she was right. He knew that just because he could make it work did not mean it would be easy. He knew that even single parents usually had a network of family and friends they could rely on. Pascal thought about that proverb; he needed his village. 

“Paz doesn’t have to move out. What if we moved in?” Vidcund suggested. “There are three rooms in this place, three of us.” He motioned between Pascal and Lazlo. “Actually, that room over there was Dad’s lab,” Pascal points toward the room closest to the street. Lazlo shrugged, “We’ll just make it a bedroom, I can sleep there.” Jenny clasped her hands together. “I love this idea. You’ll all be living behind me.” Pascal found the idea rather appealing himself. 

Chapter Text

In a few short months, the brothers made what was once Pascal’s house into a home. The decor reflected them, with most things in the house being grouped into a set of three. Pascal now wore oversized shirts; today he wore a blue one with screen-printed white hibiscuses. “You’re not supposed to carry heavy things!” Vidcund snatched the grocery delivery from Pascal, who just stood there after the fact. Vidcund exhaled, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna stress you out. Please sit down or something.” Vidcund carefully unloaded the groceries, wiping down the shelves and lining things up in the fridge so the labels faced the door. “Just so you know, I’m not an invalid.” Pascal rested a hand on his pronounced baby bump; he learned at the anatomy scan that he would have a boy. “I’m not saying that,” Vidcund brought Pascal a water, “It’s just, you know. Murphy’s law and all. You shouldn’t be taking risks right now.” Vidcund’s anxiety had become more prominent in recent weeks, and he handled this by accompanying Pascal everywhere and fretting over every little thing. Pascal tried to ignore how overbearing his brother could be. Today, he was thankful that Jenny would be stopping by. 

“What do you want for dinner? Lazlo should be home soon.” Pascal did not want to get into it with Vidcund; Vidcund did not understand how intense pregnancy cravings could be. He did not understand that all Pascal wanted to eat lately was carbs, cheese, and pepperoni. This had been a contention between the two since Pascal entered the second trimester. Vidcund would go on about how pizza is heavily processed and lacks ‘vital nutrients’ that the baby needs. As far as Pascal was concerned, the baby wanted pizza too. “Don’t get mad when I tell you this, Vid. You know stress is bad for the baby.” Vidcund knew what was coming, and so he exhaled again. “Fine. I’ll place the order soon.” Vidcund walked away, talking under his breath about how Pascal would give birth to a pizza baby. The computer chimed. Pascal had been meaning to share his big news with his friend. 

No0ne_Rlly: [Hi. R u there?]

CuriousPaz1972: [Hi. I have some news I wanna share.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Bad news?]

CuriousPaz1972: [Good news.]

No0ne_Rlly: [That’s a relief. OK.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I’m 5 months pregnant. I’m having a boy.]

No0ne_Rlly: [...]

No0ne_Rlly: [Didn't u say u were a guy?]

No0ne_Rlly: [That’s still cool tho.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I am a guy. It’s a weird story.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Aliens abducted me and they pollinated me.]

CuriousPaz1972: [So yeah, that’s how that happened.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Lucky. I wish I had a baby.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I practice with a sack of flour.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I drew a face on him. I named him Wheatley, get it?]

Pascal chuckled to himself. Sometimes he wondered if this guy was for real.

CuriousPaz1972: [LOL. You practice with a sack of flour?]

No0ne_Rlly: [I used an egg for a while but then it went bad and my roommates got pissed.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Yeah, I’m not sure that a flour sack is that much like a baby.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I can’t let it get wet or hurt.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I have to protect it from bugs.]

No0ne_Rlly: [And it weighs about as much as a baby.]

Pascal thought about what he would see on television about high schoolers carrying around sacks of flour as part of a sex ed lesson. He thought that was just an overused trope.

No0ne_Rlly: [U think I’m weird now…]

CuriousPaz1972: [I told you I got pregnant from aliens, and you think you’re the weird one. LOL.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Besides, you made several good points about the flour baby.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I had a flour sack before this one, but my roommates took it and made bread. They didn’t tell me until after I ate some. :-( ]

CuriousPaz1972: [Is it hard to find roommates where you live? Where are you at?]

No0ne_Rlly: [Strangetown AZ. I guess. I mean, they are usually fine.]

Pascal studied the screen, counting this as a moment orchestrated by serendipity. 

CuriousPaz1972: [That’s where I live. We’re neighbors.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Ur joking.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I live in the observatory up the hill from the shops. You must have seen it.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I don’t leave the house.]

CuriousPaz1972: [What house do you live in? I have a view of the whole town. I’ll signal to you with a mirror.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I should go now. Bye.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Bye buddy.]

His companion signed off, by his screenname was an offline notification. Pascal got the impression that he had somehow offended his friend. He scrolled up to try and find where he went wrong to no avail. Jenny and Lazlo returned from running errands, Johnny lumbered behind them, slouching as he carried a pack of old baby clothes. “Jenny,” Vidcund trotted over and grabbed his sister by her shoulders, “Paz refuses to eat anything other than pizza. You have to tell him it’s bad for the baby.” Jenny threw her head back in laughter, much to Vidcund’s annoyance. “Jill was made from Diet Coke and fries. Let the man have his pizza.” “I’m gonna call her Large Fry Medium Coke from now on,” Johnny teased. “Oh, by the way, Uncle Paz, here are my old baby clothes.” Johnny held the vacuum-sealed pack up. Pascal nodded, “Thanks, both of you.” 

“No thanks for me? I spent all day at Babies-R-Us, dude.” Lazlo made his way inside the house, carrying a potty chair. Jenny placed her hands on her hips and quickly corrected her brother, “ We spent all day.” “Yeah, but I had to load the car.” Pascal acknowledged his brother, “Thank you, Lazlo.” “Johnny, help Lazlo carry the stuff in.” Johnny gave his mom a quick nod and returned to the car with his uncle.

Chapter Text

Who was Glabe Singles? This question plagued Jenny for weeks. While Jenny knew that her dad loved her mom, she could not shake the feeling that there was more to the story than her or her siblings could ever guess. Maybe Vidcund was right: Glarn held a flame for Glabe over decades. This would explain why he held onto mementos like the love letters and the wedding photo. This would explain why he never spoke of his previous marriage to anyone. “It’s not hard to use a computer, Mom. Don’t you use computers at the hospital?” Jenny stood behind Johnny as the computer whirred to life, the Windows XP start-up sound lilted pleasantly. “How is a computer gonna help me take care of a patient? It can’t give injections or replace IVs. Besides, we have people who can use computers at the hospital.” Johnny waited impatiently for the cacophony of the dial-up internet to cease, drumming his fingers against the desk.

“How come my uncles know how to use a computer but you don’t? Even Pop-Pop used it.” Jenny clicked her tongue, not wanting to be pestered by her son. “I don’t know Johnny, I guess I just didn’t care to learn.” The din of the dial-up continued. “We need broadband. This would be done already if we were at Paz’s house.” Jenny could barely stand the squawking of the internet connecting; her son had a point. “I’ll look into it, okay?” Johnny sighed, “I hope you aren’t just saying that, Mom.” Jenny squeezed her son’s shoulder lightly; no amount of his being an ornery teen could make her love him less. 

“Finally!” Johnny got to the homepage of Yahoo and searched for Whitepages. “What’s the name you want me to look up again? Glenda Singles?” Jenny exaggerated her mouth movements as she spoke to enunciate, “ Glabe . Glabe Singles.” Johnny said as he typed, “Glabe Singles.” Johnny hit the Enter key and was greeted by a blank page. “No dice.” Jenny was prepared for this possibility: “Try Glabe Curious.” Johnny froze and turned to his mom, “Curious? She’s family?” Jenny felt stressed, “I don’t know, Johnny.” Johnny modified his search and was greeted with a result: “She’s dead.” He clicked on her name, revealing more information. She had two daughters. “Chloe Singles and Lola Singles. They live in the apartments just outside of town.” Jenny stared at the screen and wondered if these could be her sisters. A part of her doubted it because she only knew her dad as a parent who took an active role in the lives of his children. She knew she was biased, but she felt Glarn was the best dad a child could ever ask for. 

“Print out that page, please.” “You’re not thinking about visiting them, are you?” “Johnny! Don’t do this right now. Print the page.” Johnny did what was asked of him, and Paul came inside from mowing the lawn. “Dad, Mom is gonna drive across town to visit some randos.” Johnny tattled as Paul poured himself a glass of iced tea. “Your mom is free to do whatever she likes.” Paul joined his son and wife at the computer and saw that Jenny was troubled. He wrapped his green arm around his wife. “What’s the matter, honey?”

Jenny sighed as she held the printed page. “I’m worried Dad had a double life. He was married before he married Mom, and these women are related to his first wife.” She handed to paper to Paul and he blanched when he read the names. He had checked on his daughters shortly before he started dating Jenny. He saw that a woman was raising them the best she could, and that it was a household full of love. “Paul? What’s wrong?” Paul snapped back to reality, and the troubled look on Jenny’s face morphed into worry. “I-it’s nothing, honey. Maybe you should forget about this.” 

He handed the paper back to his wife. Jenny shook her head with determination. “It’s been keeping me up. I need to get closure.” Jenny folded the paper up neatly and placed it in her purse on the coffee table. “It’s a bad idea,” Paul groaned to Johnny as soon as Jenny was out of earshot. Johnny turned in his seat and looked at his dad quizzically, “What happened to ‘Mom is free to do whatever she likes’?” Paul rubbed his face with his hands, “Just forget I said anything, Johnny-Boy.” He tousled his son’s hair, and Johnny responded by smoothing his locks out again. “Whatever,” Johnny booted up a video game. 

Chapter Text

Jenny knew that because Paul worked as a pollination technician, he most likely had children other than Johnny and Jill. So, when Paul told Jenny that he believed Chloe and Lola were his daughters and he would like to accompany her when she visited them, she said, “Okay.” Paul blinked in disbelief, “You’re not mad?” Jenny was already in bed, sitting up as she applied lotion to her arms, “Why would I be mad? I don’t care that you pollinated Glabe’s brother. That was your job.” Paul got into bed, realizing that Jenny did not suspect that he had pollinated her father. Paul cocked his head to the side in confusion, “Brother?” “Or another male relative. Glabe’s maiden name was Singles, but she kept the name Curious after divorcing Dad.” Paul felt his stomach knot up. He did not know how to tell Jenny that Chloe and Lola were her half sisters and she was their stepmother. He did not say anything on the subject again for the entire night. Sixiamians did not need as much sleep as humans, but even so, Paul slept like crap that night.

“We have a no-soliciting sign,” Jenny watched as a green woman with red hair cracked the worn apartment door open, her glittery magenta acrylics curled around the doorknob. “I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions,” Jenny said out of her depth; she was starting to think this was a bad idea. “We found God or whatever,” Jenny began to panic as the door began to close. Jenny shouted without thinking, “You knew Glabe!” The door opened wider, revealing the ginger alien in the light of the sun. She wore heavy makeup and heavier perfume. She eyed Jenny up and down, trying to figure the blonde out. “How do you know that name?” “She was married to my dad.” Jenny watched as the woman’s eyes narrowed in disgust before she slammed the door closed.

Paul put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “I thought this might happen.” The door opened again, and this time an alien woman with closely-cropped black hair peeked out. “Who’s the green guy with you?” Jenny did her best to wrap her arm around Paul, “He’s my husband.” Paul waved at the woman. The woman eyed Jenny suspiciously, “You’re Curious’s kid?” Jenny nodded and clasped her hands. The door was opened wider, “Come on in. We wanna talk to you.” The apartment was small and dingy; the family room was doubling as a bedroom for one sister as the other slept in the official bedroom. Jenny and Paul sat on the couch, where they had a view of the roach motel under the coffee table. Sheets had been put up as makeshift curtains; Jerry Springer played on the television. 

“Your dad is a bastard!” The redhead snarled as she held her hands up with the fingers bent and splayed, ready to use them as weapons. Paul got between her and Jenny, and he was ready to pick his wife up and run out of there if it came to that. The alien with the black hair grabbed her sister by the arm, “Chloe!” Chloe sat back down, not taking her eyes off Jenny. “She meant to say ‘nice to meet you’. That’s Chloe, I’m Lola. We have a lot to catch up on.” Lola extended a hand to Jenny and Paul; they shook it out of politeness. Lola sat back down.

 “I never expected to see you here. I always hoped he would be the one to knock on our door.” Jenny shifted uncomfortably before gesturing towards her husband. “Why does it matter who knocked on the door? He’s here, isn’t he?” Lola looked at Paul, disinterested. “Honestly, and please don’t be offended, but I never cared about meeting the pollination tech.” Paul smiled, “That’s to be expected!” Pollination technicians were just that; they played no active role in parenting their hybrid children. Their objective was to simply spread the Sixamian genome through the cosmos. “Wait, hold on. I’m confused.” Jenny started to feel ill, but she could not place a finger on why; she thought that perhaps Chloe’s perfume was starting to get to her. “Who were you hoping to see?” Chloe scrunched up her nose, “The bastard.” Lola folded her hands in her lap, “Glarn Curious, our dad.”

Lola explained how Glabe kept the name Curious so that she would have a matching surname with her adoptive daughters. After Glabe died, they changed their last name to Singles as a way of honoring their mother. “He was never my dad anyway! Selfish prick!” Chloe’s voice took on an edge of sadness. She carefully dabbed at her waterline so as not to ruin her makeup. Jenny sat tongue-tied. She was only now starting to connect the dots between Paul and Glarn. All of those years the two spent avoiding each other began to make sense. 

Lola leaned forward and spoke to Jenny, who did her best to listen through her shock. “We always wondered what Glarn is like. When we were little, we’d beg Mom to tell us stories. She said he was an astrophysicist.” Jenny swallowed and nodded, “Um, yeah. Say, can I get some water?” Lola reached over and handed Jenny a bottle. “Do you think he would be open to meeting us?” Jenny’s hand shook as she sipped the water; she did not pay attention to Lola’s question. “I think it would bring closure for Chloe and me if we met him.” Jenny blurted out, “He’s dead. He died a few months ago.” Lola sat back as she replied, “Oh. Sorry for your loss.” Jenny could tell Lola was disappointed. “But um, I would be happy to answer any questions.”

Chloe huffed, “You don’t have to tell us anything. I can tell you had a super great childhood just by looking at you. Lemme guess: you had a big house and your mom didn’t have to work. You were Daddy’s princess, right? Did he buy you a horse?” “Chloe!” Lola hissed at her sister as her face turned blue from embarrassment. Chloe continued, “Did you guys go on yearly vacations to California? I bet you went to Disneyland and the beach!” Paul laced his fingers with Jenny’s, just waiting for her to give the signal that it was time to leave. Instead, Jenny replied. “I have three brothers, so no, I didn’t have a pony or anything. You’re right about my mom not working, but she was raising four kids. Yes, we did go to California once. My parents took us to Disneyland and the beach.” Chloe pressed her mouth into a thin line out of anger. That should have been her life. 

Jenny continued, “Dad never told us about you two. I only found out he was married to your mom after he died. I only knew him as a fantastic father.” “Of course, he was a fantastic father to the kids he wanted ! If it were up to him, Lola and I would be dead !” Lola sprang to her feet, “That’s not true! You can’t say things like that, Chloe! Just a FYI, you’ve done nothing but embarrass yourself.” “Whatever! I’m fucking leaving! Call me when they’re gone.” Chloe grabbed the car keys and stormed out of the apartment. “I’m so sorry about that.” Lola’s entire face was a light blue. “I don’t know what I was expecting, really; well, I wasn’t expecting to hear that my dad was pollinated.” Jenny got to her feet, and Paul did the same. “I guess this is it. Thank you for the information.” Jenny held a hand out, not feeling up for a hug. “Wait,” Lola went to the notepad on the fridge and jotted down her cell phone number. “If and when you ever feel ready, I would like to meet your brothers. I know Chloe would too, it’s just- well, you know she can be a hothead.” Jenny put the number safely in her purse and smiled as she thought. “You know, I have a brother who can be like that sometimes.” 

Chapter Text

♢♢♢

Pascal was hunched over in the shower as his abdomen ripped open, the wound spanning between his iliac crests. No one was around to help him; the entire town seemed empty. He could not get hold of Jenny on the phone. He was forced to go through this alone. Blood pooled at his feet as tears obscured his vision. “Dad?” Pascal was attached to a full-grown man by the umbilical cord, a copy of him. The man just stood still as Pascal tried to hold his skin together. “Help me,” Pascal pleaded. He wondered how he was still standing despite all the blood he had lost. The man Pascal gave birth to simply stared blankly at Pascal, not reacting to what was happening. “You gave birth to me too soon. I’m dying. You failed.” 

♢♢♢

Pascal sat up in bed, his pajamas clinging to him from sweat. Jenny had warned him that he would have weird pregnancy dreams, but Pascal did not expect them to be so vivid. He held his belly, sighing in relief when he felt the baby’s tiny pulses inside of him. He was still deciding on a first name, having already made up his mind that the baby’s middle name would be Glarn. He had not told anyone yet, wanting to keep the baby’s name to himself for just a bit longer. 

Pascal felt envious as he watched his brothers leave for work; Division 47 had a strict policy against allowing pregnant employees on the premises. All Pascal had to look forward to during his parental leave was daytime television and light chores. The cutting ring of the phone promised a break from monotony: “Can I come over?” Pascal smiled lightly when he heard his sister’s voice, “See you soon.”

“I suspected as much.” Pascal rested his chin on his hand while he spoke to Jenny near the grill. “You knew?” “Well, not really. It’s just Dad asked me not to meet aliens. He actually forbade me.” Jenny sat back with her arms crossed, “And, well, Paul was the pollination tech.” Pascal looked at his sister, expecting to see more emotion on her face; she was calm. Jenny broke the silence, “Small universe, huh?” Pascal only responded to Jenny with a short nod, finding her attempt at humor lacking. Everyone knew that the universe was infinitely expanding in all directions. It was anything but small. Jenny watched Pascal think about her joke. “Anyways, Paz, they wanna meet you and the boys. I invited them to my house this weekend.” Pascal shifted in the chair. “You haven’t told Lazlo and Vidcund yet?” “I was kind of planning on waiting until they came back from work, if that’s okay with you.” Pascal wondered why she would ask him that; he did not care about what time she told them. Suddenly it clicked, “Oh, you’re asking if you can stay until then. Sure.” 

Vidcund and Lazlo processed the information. “So we got the Curious Brothers, and the Curious Sisters.” Lazlo leaned against the kitchen wall, seemingly unbothered. Vidcund held his head in his hands as he sat at the counter. “Why wouldn’t Dad say anything sooner? He should have known there was a possibility of us finding this out. Who tells their son shit like ‘the babies rip out of you’ with no other context? Paz figured it out.” Jenny said, “I think Dad was very traumatized by the experience. That explains why he avoided Paul completely after our wedding.” The brothers thought about it, but no one wanted to think too hard about the implications of what occurred between Paul and Glarn.

Chapter Text

The furniture at Jenny’s home made sense; it was far more comfortable than the pieces at 2 Cover Up Road. For starters, the Smiths had a sofa, whereas the brothers had three matching chairs in place of a couch. Pascal found it increasingly more difficult to sit in those chairs for an extended period of time, but standing too long was getting just as hard. Everyone sat around and waited; Johnny and Jill played on their GBAs, connected by a cable so they could play together. All attempts to ease the tense atmosphere with small talk died out within moments, leaving the adults to wait anxiously. 

“They’re here!” Jenny jumped up as Paul stood up. Chloe and Lola pulled up in a blue VW Beetle. “Everyone, get up! It looks like an intervention here!” Jenny snapped before she remembered Pascal’s state. “Paz, you sit.” Johnny remained seated along with Jill. “Isn’t it weird for everyone to stand by the door like that? You’ll scare them off.” Jenny considered her son’s words and thought he had a point. “Everyone, act natural!” Vidcund pretended to inspect the fern by the door as Lazlo went over to his niblings and wished he had brought his GBA. Paul and Jenny stood at the door, ready to greet the twins. 

Chloe and Lola expected their brothers to look like Jenny, instead the women estimated the trio to be nothing but dweebs. “Hi, I’m Lola, and this is Chloe.” Chloe gave a single sweeping wave as Lola introduced her. She was going to try to be on her best behaviour today in order to make up for her outburst in the apartment. The brothers made their introductions, but Chloe’s attention was drawn to Johnny and Jill. “Aren’t these my siblings, too?” Johnny looked to his parents after Chloe spoke, finding himself in an awkward position. Paul spoke up. “Well, you’re more like their aunts. These are our kids, Johnny and Jill.” “No, no. If these are your kids and you pollinated our dad, then that means we’re siblings.” Chloe gestured between the children, Lola, and herself. Chloe pointed to Jenny. “She is our sister and step-mom.” Lola discreetly grabbed Lola’s arm and whispered, “That’s enough.” Paul heard that due to his sensitive ears. “The family tree is a little mangled, but it's okay.”

The day seemed to go on without incident until Chloe noticed Pascal rubbing his belly absentmindedly in the backyard. “I thought you were just fat.” Pascal felt the hostility on Chloe’s end, “Oh, um, yeah. I’m pregnant.” “You’re pollinated ,” Chloe glared at Pascal and whispered to Lola. Pascal glared back,  “Is there a problem?” “For some reason, I never see family-oriented guys get pollinated. It’s always the cerebral types. Pollination is just some oddity to people like you. It’s always about meeting aliens until you get a bit more than you bargained for.” Chloe held a hand on her popped hip, her lips curled as she spoke. Pascal covered his belly defensively, “I was aware that this could happen. I said I was keeping my baby the day I found out I was pregnant.” “You better mean that. If you abandon that baby, I’ll make sure your life is hell.” Chloe pointed accusingly at Pascal. Lola put her hands on her sister’s shoulders, urging her to leave the conversation. “Chloe, let’s go.” Chloe’s eyes stayed fixed on Pascal as she was escorted away. He knew he wanted his baby, but in the back of his mind was a fear that he would not be able to take care of him. It was the what-ifs that plagued Pascal’s thoughts as of late. 

Chapter Text

Jenny visited whenever she had time; luckily for Pascal, she had it in abundance as of late. She was joined by Paul, who offered to assemble the changing table. Pascal was rinsing dishes as Jenny loaded the dishwasher. “The other night, I had a nightmare where I gave birth to a copy of myself, and I bled out in the shower. I was attached to this clone by an umbilical cord, and he told me that I failed. That was my anxiety manifesting.” “When I was pregnant with Johnny, I dreamt that the house was covered in ladybugs the size of dogs. Pregnancy is weird. I don’t put much stock in analyzing the dreams that come with it.” Pascal was washing a glass when it shattered; a shard sliced his finger. “The first aid kit is in the cabinet under the microwave,” He held his hand under the running water while he tried not to draw comparisons between this and the nightmare.“Let me see.” Pascal presented Jenny with his hand; she cleaned and bandaged it.

“Am I like Dad?” Pascal and Jenny sat on his bed while Paul made adjustments to the crib; he was not happy that Lazlo claimed that the unused screw was an extra. “Sure. We’re all like Dad.” “No, I mean, do you think I’m just like him?” Jenny could not deny the strong similarities between her brother and father. Still, she worried that answering truthfully might offend him. Pascal knew that he was not going to get an answer. “I know I am. Dad abandoned his daughters, and in a way, I abandoned the family when I went to college. Even now, I’m worried that I won’t be able to take care of my baby. Maybe Dad had good intentions, but it was too much for him after the birth. What if it’s too much for me, too?” 

Paul and Jenny exchanged a look before the alien spoke. “If it came to that, Jenny and I had already decided that we would take the baby. If you wanted to raise him, we would give him back.” Pascal exhaled as he felt himself getting emotional. Jenny gently held his hand. “No one holds it against you for being busy at school, Paz. You didn’t abandon us. And if you did, we would have forgiven you anyway.” Pascal did not want to speak; he knew that he would start blubbering the moment he uttered a syllable. Jenny hugged Pascal and rubbed her hand soothingly up and down his back. She was reminded of when they were children and the monsoon pummeled Strangetown; they hid in bed with their mom while Vidcund slept in her arms. Jenny wished Pascal had been old enough to remember that. 

“Do you think I’m gonna die?” Pascal’s voice was small and far away; Jenny could not remember the last time he sounded so frightened. “No! That’s not gonna happen, Paz. Don’t even think about that.” Jenny felt a dampness on her shoulder where Pascal rested his head. “That nightmare was so vivid. That’s how he’s gonna be born. I’m gonna bleed out.” Jenny stroked Pascal’s hair, trying to think about the right words that would quell his fear. “No, you won’t.”

 Paul touched Pascal on the shoulder. “Sixamians have been doing this on Earth for a long time; thousands of years. It is unheard of for a host to die during birth.” Pascal looked at Paul through tear-obscured lenses before he cleaned them with the microfiber cloth in his pocket. Pascal had heard old legends of starchildren; beings who were said to have come from the sky to bestow knowledge. He knew Paul was telling the truth. “My dad said that the babies tear out of people.” Paul nodded. “That’s true, but you’ll be fine. The most that you’ll have is a small scar.” 

Pascal shook his head. “I don’t see how that can be true.” “Take your bandage off and see for yourself.” Pascal did as Paul suggested and found that the slice on his finger was now a shallow scratch; he studied his hand in disbelief. “Hosts become temporary chimeras in order for pollination to be successful. When the baby is born, you will heal in minutes; you won’t have time to lose much blood.” Pascal’s head was swimming. It was not enough that he was pregnant with an alien; now he was not fully human. Paul continued. “Like I said, this is temporary. You’ll be back to normal in a couple of weeks postpartum.” Jenny smiled softly at her brother, “Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

Chapter Text

He sat in the basement where the late July heat could not reach him, illuminated only by the computer screen. He had not been able to bring himself to message his companion ever since he learned that they were neighbors. Nervous Subject gloomily scrolled through message after message from CuriousPaz1972. Why would someone like him live in Strangetown? As far as Nervous knew, Strangetown was a home only to those who existed furthest from everything good; Strangetown was a purgatory at best. Maybe the fact that someone he considered a friend lived in the same town was just part of his punishment. “You and that computer.” A velvet voice floated from behind him. Circe Beaker stood with her arms crossed, appraising the grimborn in his seat. “Sit up straight. You’ll only get more deformed if you slouch.” Nervous felt his sternum pop when he followed her orders. “Good boy,” Circe cooed before handing Nervous a piece of candy wrapped to look like a strawberry. Nervous greedily pulled the wrapper at both ends before popping the candy in his mouth. Circe flipped the light switch, and Nervous squinted from the bright fluorescents. 

“Turn off the computer. Your eyes need a break.” Nervous felt like he was strangling something to death as he held the power button down; he knew he was done when the fans stopped humming. He got up to stretch, towering over Circe. “You’re so compliant . Good boy.” Circe dispensed another piece of candy for Nervous. Circe pressed her body against his in a hug; this gesture always made Nervous’s skin crawl. Circe lingered in a way that was best described as invasive. “Do you think I’m beautiful?” Circe craned her head back and batted her eyes at her test subject. He blinked at her with disinterest. Circe sighed dreamily, “I’m like Helen of Troy, you know. A whole feud started over me . That’s how beautiful I am.” Circe’s laughter rang out in a windchime way while she kept her arms snaked around the willowy man. “It’s too bad you’re immune to my charms, but you were born that way. I guess I’ll have to stick to the candy.” Nervous convulsed in a twitch as he tried to emancipate himself from Circe’s embrace. She held on for a moment longer before letting go.

“Circe, I found out my friend lives in Strangetown.” The petite woman looked up at the grimborn menacingly. “You mean that guy on the computer? That’s not your friend. You don’t have friends.” “We’ve been talking for years, and I-” Circe tutted, “And you just found out he lives in the same town as you. He can tell you’re a freak.” Nervous wanted to tell Circe that she was wrong and he had just been selective in what he shared with his friend, but he could not shake the feeling that she was right.

 Nervous Subject was diseased; born under a bad star. The circumstances surrounding his existence had rendered him a freak. The Beakers were the only people who could save him. They promised with mellifluous words that they could make him human. They had beaten him in anger to excise everything in him that was vile. They grovelled in tears that they only acted this way out of love. Nervous knew he could never live up to their lofty expectations. He knew it was only a matter of time before he died in the basement. Only then would the world be freed of his tainted presence. 

“I was wondering maybe… Maybe it would be alright if I met him?” Nervous wrung his hands as he made the request, unable to lock eyes with Circe in the process. “You want to meet someone you met online? What if he’s a lunatic? He could lock you in his house and hurt you,” Circe deadpanned. Nervous began to pick at the skin around his nails, “You or Loki could go with me…” “You want to be escorted to a playdate? Fair enough, but you know I don’t work for free.” Nervous’s stomach tied itself into knots. He had come to expect Circe’s exorbitant rates. Circe smiled darkly, “I want to vivisect you again. This time I’ll try to use enough anesthesia.” Nervous agreed to those terms; he had no other choice. 

Chapter Text

CuriousPaz1972: [Buddy?]

CuriousPaz1972: [You’ve been worrying me lately.]

CuriousPaz1972: [You don’t have to talk to me. Just let me know you’re OK.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I miss talking to you.]

Pascal’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the notification that his friend was online. He felt relief when his computer chimed.

No0ne_Rlly: [I don’t like it when u make it sound like my roommates are bad people. They try to help me, and they only punish me when I mess up. They look out for me, and when they do things, it’s bcuz it’s my fault. When u say things that make them sound bad, it makes me confused.]

As Pascal saw it, No0ne_Rlly’s roommates were narcissists, and he seemed to be trauma-bonded to them. Pascal knew it was a defense mechanism; he did it to survive. He realized that he was pushing too much, too soon, and it was only causing his friend to dig his heels in. 

CuriousPaz1972: [I am sincerely sorry. I never meant to cause you pain.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I hope you can forgive me.] 

No0ne_Rlly: [I’ll always forgive u.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I miss talking to u too.]

Pascal could not bring himself to type anything because whatever he could have replied with would have been too vulnerable. He felt silly for getting sentimental over some words on a screen. He conveniently blamed his pregnancy. The computer chimed again.

No0ne_Rlly: [I was gonna message u sooner, but I had surgery.]

CuriousPaz1972: [You had surgery? Are you okay?]

No0ne_Rlly: [Ya. It was just routine stuff to check my organs.]

Pascal wanted to ask why routine surgery would be needed for that. What could surgery reveal that a blood test and ultrasound could not? He would have to save that question for Jenny; he did not want to risk upsetting his friend by prying. 

CuriousPaz1972: [I’m happy that it went well.]

No0ne_Rlly: [I’m used to it by now. My roommates used enough anesthesia so I didn’t feel anything this time.]

Pascal sat at the screen with his mouth open. He reread the message again and then whispered it out loud, just to make sure he understood it right. He wanted nothing more than to be able to ask why this guy’s roommates were performing routine surgery on him, all while subjecting him to acts of casual cruelty. But whoever his roommates were, they were cunning. They were smart enough to breadcrumb No0ne_Rlly with just enough basic kindness and dignity that he refused to view them as they were. Pascal could only type two words.

CuriousPaz1972: [That’s good.]

Pascal hated that he couldn’t do more. He put his face in his hands and groaned before a wave of sadness hit him. He was sick of crying. “Paz? What’s wrong?” Pascal minimized the window as the computer chimed when Lazlo touched his shoulder. That was another thing he hated: ever since he got pregnant, people have been inclined to touch him without permission. Pascal could not speak, suddenly overtaken with sobs. Lazlo looked to Vidcund, Vidcund shrugged. Pascal managed to stifle his crying enough to speak, “I read something very sad, that’s all.” Lazlo gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “You’re probably just tired. I think you should go lie down.” Pascal pushed Lazlo’s hand away. “Stop touching me. I’m fine.” Lazlo was well equipped to handle tempestuous people, thanks to Vidcund. “I’m walking away.” Lazlo joined Vidcund at the chess table as they exchanged a look that said everything. The computer chimed again, prompting Pascal to open the window. 

No0ne_Rlly: [My roommates said I could see u.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Is that what you want?]

No0ne_Rlly: [Yes.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I would like that. Wanna meet at my place?]

CuriousPaz1972: [I live at 2 Cover Up Road. It's the house next to the radio telescopes. Up the road from the shops. You can’t miss it.]

No0ne_Rlly: [Can it be this weekend? That’s when my roommate can take me.]

No0ne_Rlly: [She says she knows where it is.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Yes, I’d be happy to see you.]

No0ne_Rlly: [ :-) ]

CuriousPaz1972: [My name is Pascal Curious btw. Since we are meeting soon, could you tell me yours?]

No0ne_Rlly: [I seriously don’t have one, but my roommates call me Nervous Subject.]

Chapter Text

“I can’t do this. I don’t know how it’s gonna work out.” Pascal was sitting on the panda armchair that Lazlo brought out of his room yesterday, cradling his head in his hands. It was the only thing in the house that was somewhat comfortable. He had been warned of this; Pascal began nesting. He spent the better part of the day deep cleaning the house, only to realize how small the house seemed. The baby would be fine for a while, but there would soon come a time when major renovations would be needed to accommodate a growing child. Three adults sharing one bathroom was barely sustainable; the number of doors it had was absurd. Pascal could not remember whose idea that was or why it was deemed necessary. Then there was the matter of finances; the dwindling savings made Pascal wish that a motherlode of cash would simply appear in the household bank account.

This was the new normal; pregnancy had bathed Pascal’s brain in a loaded vat of hormones. Vidcund carefully pulled the spent blooms from his African violets. He was used to Pascal’s tears by now. His crying was simply background noise; yesterday, he cried over a dog food commercial. Pascal could not stop himself from spiraling. He did not see himself being able to take care of his child. His voice took on a whining quality, “What have I done?” Vidcund did his best to be understanding, but his brother was testing his patience every day.

Vidcund wiped his hands with a rag as he approached his big brother. “Just so you know, Paz, it’s not too late.” Pascal looked up at Vidcund like he had said something stupid. No one was getting it; soon, there would be a baby. The house, nor the people inside, were ready for this addition. Pascal felt like he was the only one making an effort. His eyes narrowed in annoyance. Pascal motioned to his belly in exasperation, “Of course it’s too late! Look at me!” Vidcund saw his brother, red-faced from bawling. Pascal wore a scowl; the hardest part of being pregnant was that no one in the house understood what he was going through. He knew that every time Lazlo and Vidcund exchanged a meaningful glance, they were judging him as becoming ruled by hormones; irrational. Vidcund bent his knees and put an arm around his brother. His voice hushed, “Some guys down at the lab were asking if you planned on keeping the baby. Apparently, you can get research grants in exchange for a healthy alien hybrid.” Pascal was too stunned to speak. He wondered how Vidcund could bring himself to speak those words in that order. Pascal’s face flickered with rage. His voice strained from anger, “WHY WOULD I GROW A BABY INSIDE OF ME FOR PEOPLE TO RESEARCH?!” Pascal believed that, ideally, science should only be used to help people. However, he was aware of the darkness that lurked in it as well. Vidcund shrank back in fear, “You said you didn’t know how you were going to do this-” “I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE HOUSE!” 

Lazlo emerged from his bedroom wearing only sweatpants. “What the fuck is going on? Why is Paz screaming?” “I’M YELLING ! I’M SICK OF YOU TWO TREATING ME LIKE I’M HYSTERICAL!” Lazlo’s eyes widened in shock. Thanks to pregnancy, Pascal had become more attuned with his emotions. Even so, Lazlo had not seen this side of his brother before. Vidcund fidgeted before he admitted guiltily. He hung his head down, his eyes unable to meet Lazlo’s, “I told him about the offer from those guys at the lab.” Lazlo looked back at Pascal. The eldest Curious brother stewed in a barely controlled fury, his jaw clenched as his stare threatened to burn a hole through the blond. Lazlo looked back at Vidcund and shook his head, “Dude, I told you not to say anything. No one would ever agree to that shit.” Vidcund went pale in contrition. Pascal fumed. He thought back over the past few months and examined every instance when Vidcund showed concern for his pregnancy and the well-being of his child. Pascal spoke in measured bursts, fighting back tears.  “I thought you changed, Vidcund. I thought you cared . You just wanted to sell my baby.” Vidcund knew he was now painted from what he said. He did care about Pascal. He did act out of concern. But now, none of that mattered. It would only be viewed through the lens of monetary gain. Vidcund pleaded, “No! Paz, I’m sorry! It’s not-” “Shut the fuck up! I hate you, Vidcund! I seriously fucking hate you!” Pascal’s voice took on an edge of wrath; he meant what he said. Vidcund’s heart broke in his chest. He had no idea what possessed him to bring up the offer; he knew that even if he did sell his nephew, the guilt would eat him alive. “I’m sorry! I never meant it! Please, Paz…” “You want to sell my baby! Get away from me, you piss-pants creep!” All Vidcund could do was go to his room.

Pascal protectively covered his belly by instinct. He would do anything to protect his son, even if that meant cutting ties with family. Lazlo stood perfectly still; he knew that if he breathed wrong, he could be next. Pascal fixated his blue eyes on him. “When was Vidcund approached with this idea?” Pascal was trying to calm down; he knew this much anger was not good for the baby. Lazlo’s voice shook lightly with fear, “Literally the day after you called work and told them you were pregnant.” Months. Vidcund has been sitting on this for months. Pascal was right; Vidcund only cared about the pregnancy because he stood to gain something. Pascal pictured his innocent, helpless green baby lying on a cold steel table. Ripped open with his organs out. Alone and dead. His anger thawed into sorrow, and he was racked with sobs. Lazlo breathed a sigh of relief, having been spared Pascal’s scorn. “Want me to call Jenny, man?” Pascal wordlessly nodded, and Lazlo went to the phone. “Alright. I’m calling her.”

Chapter Text

Jenny tried to keep her voice from straining while she laid into Vidcund. “You do know what happens in those labs, right? I can’t believe you, Vid. What made you even entertain that idea? Why would you even tell Paz?” The Curious sister had been called to mediate, but the discussion quickly turned into a lambasting session focused on the middle Curious brother. Vidcund shifted in the hot seat. Nothing he said seemed to matter. What could he say? He knew he could not defend himself; he was in the wrong. Vidcund stared at his shoes, “I know. I know . I have no idea why I said it. I’m an idiot..” “Damn right.” Pascal had his back turned to Vidcund. He could not bear the sight of him anymore. Vidcund clasped his hands together, begging. “Paz, I do care about you. I care about you and the baby, and money has nothing to do with that.” Pascal shook his head in silence, arms resting on his belly; if he spoke, he would start yelling again. There was a beat in the conversation, the tension impossible to ignore. 

Vidcund was floundering. He started to grasp for excuses, “It wasn’t me, and you all know that! It’s almost like something possessed me in that moment! Please. I’m sorry, Pascal.” Lazlo sat with his arms crossed, and he gave Vidcund a disapproving shake of the head before scoffing. “That’s real cheesy, man. Just take accountability for your actions.” Vidcund held a hand to his chest, eyes darting between all three of his siblings. He knew what he suggested was horrible; he regretted it immediately. Still, a part of Vidcund felt that this was undeserved. He found his fire again, “Why are you talking like I did it? All I did was suggest it! They would have asked Paz themselves once he got back to work anyway.” Jenny sighed in frustration as she averted her gaze from Vidcund. Lazlo stared at the tile floor with his arms crossed. Pascal could not contain himself any longer. “It’s different when it’s your own brother!” Pascal turned to Vidcund in anger as tears streamed down his face.

Jenny hated seeing her brothers like this. Now, she would actually be the mediator, “Vidcund is stupid, okay?” The three brothers sat in silence while she spoke. “He voiced a very stupid thought that never should have left his mouth. Nothing could excuse his stupidity in that moment.” Jenny pinned Vidcund to the wall with her eyes as she spoke. If looks could kill, Vidcund would be a dead man. Jenny looked at Pascal, “But, he is sorry.” Pascal shrugged, his back once again to his brother. Living together was a bad idea. If Pascal had it his way, Vidcund would have moved out hours ago. Vidcund’s voice swelled with emotion as he spoke to his brother, “I’m sorry. This will haunt me for a very long time, maybe forever. I never wanted to hurt you or your baby, Pascal. I love you.” Pascal sat in silence for a moment before speaking to Jenny. “The thing is, I know he isn’t stupid. It would be one thing if someone else said this, but I know Vidcund thinks things through. I know he had been thinking about this for a very long time, and that’s why I’m so pissed.” Jenny nodded and reached for Pascal’s hand to offer support; he reached back. 

“Paz! Please! I don’t want our relationship to be like this. It’s not like I sold the baby. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.” Vidcund desperately clasped his hands together. “The thought of it alone is enough, Vid. There is a universe where you sold your nephew to scientists. I’m not sure how you can live with yourself.” Pregnancy really had done a number on his brother’s brain. Vidcund scoffed, “And here you are, getting mad about hypotheticals. You want to ruin our relationship over some alternate universe? Well, there’s a universe where all you do is run away. How about that? You leave people in the dark while you fly-by-night, never to be heard from again. Afraid to get close to anyone. See how ridiculous that sounds?” Pascal turned to Vidcund, offended. “You are still mad about when I went to LFT!” Vidcund shrugged and smirked coldly, “Let’s call it even and move on, then.” Lazlo cut in, “Can I say something?” His siblings looked at him expectantly. “Paz, it didn’t happen. It won’t happen. Your baby is safe. Vidcund, you can be an asshole sometimes, but I can tell you feel bad about this. I think you guys should call a truce, and we can see how it goes.”

Pascal turned around so he could talk to Vidcund. “I’m still fucking mad at you. I’m not letting you out of my sight with my baby.” Vidcund’s voice was soft and sincere, “I’m sorry, Paz. I wouldn’t even try.” Pascal looked at Jenny, and she squeezed his hand in support. “I’m not ready to forgive you, Vidcund. But I’m willing to work through this.” Vidcund nodded, “That’s all I can ask for.” Pascal looked at Vidcund with an expression somewhere between anger and disgust. He knew something dark lurked within his brother; that is why Circe dated him for years. But he knew whatever it was, it was met by the ethics their parents instilled in them all; that is part of the reason why Circe dumped him.

Pascal started to get up, and Jenny helped him to his feet. He hobbled to his bedroom, supporting his back with one hand and his baby bump with the other. He looked at the empty crib; birth would be bittersweet. He could not wait to be done with pregnancy so he could meet his son, but at the same time, he loved that his child was safe inside of him. Pascal’s baby had only ever known the warmth and protection of his father. He felt a bond to his baby that he could not put into words. Two heartbeats in one body. Pascal would die to protect his son. It was overwhelming; it was love. 

Chapter Text

CuriousPaz1972: [You’re still coming over?]
No0ne_Rlly: [Yea. Around 7 ish.]
CuriousPaz1972: [We’re getting pizza. What kind of soda do you like?]
No0ne_Rlly: [Whatever kind u get.]
CuriousPaz1972: [Sprite then.]
No0ne_Rlly: [ :-) ]
No0ne_Rlly: [I hope u don’t think I’m weird for saying this.]
No0ne_Rlly: [But ur kinda my 1st friend.]
No0ne_Rlly: [My roommates are so nice for letting me out of the house.]

Pascal felt his heart falter at the messages. He glanced out the window and wondered where this person was being kept. Maybe in the old barracks? Maybe he lived on the furthest edge of town, just out of view. Pascal thought about the roommates; did he unknowingly interact with monsters who pretended to be normal in their day-to-day lives? He hoped not. He liked to think that such horrible people would be unable to masquerade as normal members of society. However, Pascal knew better; these people could be anyone he saw in the street. They could very well be among the most respected people in Strangetown.

No0ne_Rlly: [I should tell u something.]
No0ne_Rlly: [I hope u still like me after I’m done.]
CuriousPaz1972: [I’ll still like you.]
No0ne_Rlly: [U don’t know what I’m going to say tho.]
CuriousPaz1972: [You’re my friend. Nothing will change that.]
No0ne_Rlly: [Maybe I should tell u in person.]
No0ne_Rlly: [There is a good reason why my roommates treat me this way.]
CuriousPaz1972: [I know you.]
CuriousPaz1972: [ You’re a good person.]
CuriousPaz1972: [You don’t deserve to be treated badly. Even by your roommates.]

Pascal worried that the last sentence was too much, but he couldn’t fight the urge to send it. He hoped it was vague enough that it would not upset Nervous. Pascal walked a very thin line; he could not criticize the roommates too much, too soon. Deprogramming would be a long, arduous process. If he went too fast, Nervous could possibly be harmed or killed by his roommates, but if he went too slow, the results were the same.
“So it’s two people coming over, but you’re friends with just one of them?” Lazlo flipped through the channels, not yet dressed for the day. Pascal used a hand to slide his glasses back into position, “Yeah. He is being escorted by one of his roommates. I think he is in a bad situation, but I need you to act normal and not say anything about it when they’re here.” Pascal waited for Lazlo to acknowledge him while he channel surfed. “Lazlo, did you hear me? I’m worried about this guy.” Lazlo left the television on the channel guide before looking at his big brother. What could he say that? “Yeah, dude, don’t worry. I won’t say shit about it.” Pascal sighed, “Thanks. I know you wouldn’t do that. It’s Vidcund I need to worry about.” Pascal and Vidcund were enjoying a tenuous peace. Deep down, Pascal knew his brother was no villain. He also knew that Vidcund lacked all tact; would he say something stupid again? Pascal shook his head as he chewed this over.

Chapter Text

Pascal anxiously stood at the door, fighting exhaustion, pain, swollen legs, and feet. Throughout the years, the person he imagined on the other side of the screen morphed from one person to another before shifting to someone else entirely. At one time, he believed he was talking to a prepper, and at another time, he thought he was talking to someone who lived an extremely sheltered life. His friend was someone in a dangerous situation; someone who was so immersed in pain that it had become normal, familiar. 

Pascal was ready to put a face to the words he read every day. He peered through the glass, waiting. “You’ve been standing too long. You need to sit down now.” Vidcund grabbed Pascal by the shoulder to lead him to a chair when a sleek, black beamer pulled up. A gasp slipped out of Pascal,  “Oh god, he’s here!” He held his brother by the lapels of his sport coat, “Don’t say anything about the roommate.” Vidcund nodded, unable to conceal his smile when he saw Pascal freak out like a teen. Vidcund could not think of anyone more deserving of this experience than his brother; Pascal had spent his teen years devoted to his studies, missing out on moments like this. Pascal tidied his bangs with his fingers before smoothing the wrinkles in his clothes. “Help me outside,” Pascal grabbed onto Vidcund so he could walk faster, only to feel shooting pain in his feet from standing too long. He ignored the sensation the best he could. Lazlo flanked Pascal’s free side, worried that he may fall without him there. The three men stood outside, waiting. The black sedan idled on the curb, headlights catching motes of sand kicked up from the wind. The car shut off, and the driver's door opened.

 “Long time no see, boys.” Circe Beaker exited the vehicle; her cropped red hair combed back in a neat slick. “Circe! What brings you here? It’s so good to see you! I notice Loki isn’t with you.” Vidcund nearly hopped onto his tiptoes from excitement. He grabbed Pascal’s arm and shook it lightly. Heaven knows how long he had dreamt of this moment. The woman crossed her arms, weight shifted to one hip. Her voice was velvety and detached. “Loki is working, unlike some people. But then again, I see that someone here can’t work right now.” Circe eyed Pascal, “You played with the telescope.” Pascal hoped that Circe came alone; the girl with whom he grew up could not possibly be capable of keeping someone against their will. He looked down the road, waiting to see another car pull up. Circe watched Pascal do the math. “He’s here, Paz. Hang on.”

Circe opened the back passenger door, allowing a spindly figure to come out. Even in the twilight, he appeared washed out. He was paler than the sand, covered in old scars and new bruises. His angular face looked down at the men in front of him. His mohawk did not appear ostentatious, considering everything else about him. “Nervous, this is Paz.” Circe grabbed her captive by his arm and pointed at Pascal. “Isn’t he terrible, Pascal? I had to bribe him with candy and teach him commands. He got too big for me to handle any other way.” Nervous’s deep-set eyes were angled at an exaggerated negative tilt, giving him sad puppy dog eyes. He looked down at Pascal, dejected before the two even spoke. Nervous chewed on the cuticle of his thumb as he studied his friend. Vidcund choked, “Y-you taught him commands?” His tone carried a tinge of envy. 

“Hi, Nervous. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Pascal offered his hand, and Nervous shyly took it. The algor of Nervous’s hand caught Pascal off guard; Pascal concealed his flinch with an exaggerated handshake. Nervous did not seem to notice. Pascal made a point to look his friend in the eyes,  “I like talking to you, and I’m glad we could meet up. You helped me get through some tough times.” Nervous blinked frenetically; he was not used to anyone speaking to him like this, like a person. “I did?” His voice was a slow echo, dirgelike. Pascal nodded before continuing, “Some days, you were the only person I talked to after my dad got sick.” Circe smirked, thinking of the way Pascal tensed when grabbing her specimen’s hand, “Isn’t he disgustingly cold, Pascal? There are corpses in the morgue warmer than him.” 

Pascal looked at Circe blankly, “I hadn’t noticed. He feels fine to me.” Circe chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re so full of shit, Paz. I’m amazed your eyes are still blue.” Pascal recognized Circe’s belittling language for what it was, and he was not going to play along. Circe snapped her fingers before pointing to the ground beside her. “Heel.” Nervous retreated to her side. She gave him a candy, “Good boy.” The brothers stood in shock, wondering if this was a bit. Circe flashed a grin, “Why are you guys looking at me like that? I told you he knew commands. It’s been nice, but now it’s time to go.” Nervous looked down at Circe but felt smaller than her. Nervous loosely wrapped his arms around himself in a hug. What was left of his heart crumbled in that moment. All Pascal could think about was how Nervous was being torn up and stitched back together in a basement on a regular basis. He felt anger and sadness roiling inside of him. 

“Wait!” Lazlo called out before Pascal could speak. Circe turned around and waited. “I ordered too much pizza for three people. You have to come in and have some.” Circe crossed her arms. “I don’t eat carbs.” Lazlo was undeterred, “Eat the toppings then. My brothers wanna catch up with you.” Circe could not pass up the opportunity to talk about herself, and she could tell that Vidcund was still wrapped around her finger. They went inside and had pizza.

Chapter Text

“Pretty soon, I will be splitting my time between Bridgeport and San Myshuno. I’ll be a doctor to celebrities and politicians. I can’t wait for the day that I can finally leave this two-horse town behind me.” Vidcund had run down to the liquor store to get Circe a bottle of pinot noir, and she was almost done with it. The four men sat quietly and listened to her aspirations. In the light, one could see how gaunt Nervous Subject was. His skin clung to the angles and curves of his skull. Pascal put two more slices of pizza on his plate. “How did you two become roommates?” Circe swirled the wine in her glass and inspected the way some of it clung to the sides. “You don’t have to fill out adoption paperwork if you pay the right price.” Pascal narrowed his eyes in disgust. “He was a teen when he came to live with you?” Circe held a hand to her chest, faking shock.“Oh god no! He was maybe 12 at most.” Pascal crossed his arms in disapproval, and a strained outrage flickered in his eyes. Circe was all too familiar with his tells; Pascal had not changed a bit in all these years. She clicked her tongue chidingly, “Paz, we gave him a loving home. No one else would adopt him. It’s like he crawled out of the uncanny valley.”

Nervous Subject nodded along, agreeing with all of Circe’s points, remembering when he was a child and the social workers would refuse to touch him; they were too put off by his cold skin to hug him when he would cry. The Beakers had become his family; for better or for worse, they were who he thought of when he thought of home. Circe snapped her fingers and pointed at her subject, who sat up straight in response. “Tell Paz that I’m not bad, boy. Tell him you love me.” “Circe’s great. I love her,” Nervous rehearsed through a mouth crammed with pizza. Circe grimaced in revulsion. “Swallow your food and show everyone the gift I gave you.” Nervous washed the food down with a gulp of Sprite and dug around in his pocket, producing a small box. Inside was a dead mouse, preserved and posed to be standing like a person. A glued tuft of black fur sat on its head, styled into a mohawk. Pascal and Lazlo recoiled; the beaded eyes of the mouse stared blankly at its audience. Vidcund fondly recalled when Circe gave him a taxidermied mouse with a blond bowl cut. Despite his usual hatred for vermin, Nervous cherished this gift from Circe. He gently rubbed its taxidermied belly with the tip of his finger, “It’s cute, huh?”

“Well, dinner was great. We gotta go now.” Circe finished her glass and corked the bottle before getting her keys. Pascal got to his feet to stop her. “Hang on! You can’t leave drunk.” Circe wryly replied, “Maybe I’m letting Bozo drive.” Pascal knew Circe long enough to know that was not the plan. “ Are you going to let him drive?” Circe broke out in laughter and sat down again. “He can’t drive! Can you believe that? Weren’t you guys driving at sixteen?” Circe doubled over, clutching her gut in hysterics. “He- he’s around twenty-six!” Light pink spread over Nervous’s face. He knew he was too far behind. There was no hope for him. Pascal put more pizza on Nervous’s plate. “It’s not his fault he can’t drive.” Circe stopped laughing in an instant, her eyes glinting with something sinister. “ Whose fault is it then, hm?” She was daring Pascal to say it. 

Pascal could see right through her. “It takes some people longer to reach some milestones. He’ll get there.” Circe frowned and uncorked the bottle with her teeth before pouring more wine into her glass; she was disappointed that Pascal refused to play along. “What are you doing, Pascal Curious?” Pascal hid behind a wooden expression, “I’m not doing anything, Circe.” She pointed a bronzed finger at the eldest Curious brother, determined not to let him get away that easy. “No, no. Why are you talking to my test subject? Why are you defending him? I thought you were smart enough to figure it out by now: he’s not human.” Pascal and Circe stared each other down as Nervous noisily chewed his food. Pascal broke the silence, simply stating, “He’s alive. He deserves basic dignity.” Circe almost did a spit take of pinot noir. “He’s alive ! Oh my god! You have no idea .” Pascal sat nonplussed and looked at Nervous Subject. Nervous did not allow himself to look at Pascal. 

Circe killed the rest of the bottle and finished the wine. “Okay, how about I sober up and you boys go play?” Circe dismissively waved Pascal and Nervous off. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough.” Circe grabbed Vidcund by the jaw, catching him off guard. She spoke seductively, “Viddy, I wanna play chess.” Vidcund turned scarlet and began to stammer, “I uh, you, um okay!” Lazlo crossed his arms. “We were supposed to play GoldenEye , Vid.” Vidcund ignored his brother and hoped that Circe was speaking in code, only to be disappointed when she headed towards the chess table. Pascal took Nervous to his bedroom.

“I’m sorry.” Nervous blurted out reflexively. Pascal kept an even expression, “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything.” Pascal sat on his bed and rested a hand on his belly. Pregnancy started to make him wonder if he was ever going to be comfortable again. Nervous twitched, he wondered why Pascal had been so… kind to him. His words cascaded out quickly, overlapping. “I’m not human. I’m something else.” Nervous confessed, unable to look at Pascal. He hated what he was; it was the entire reason for his suffering. “You’re my friend.” Pascal wanted to stand up and talk to Nervous eye to eye, but he was too tired. He patted the bed to invite Nervous to sit. Nervous obliged. Nervous was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Pascal looked him in the eyes, “I like you. I’m your friend.”

Chapter Text

Circe spied the growing collection of white chess pieces beside her. “You’re going easy on me. Naughty boy.” Vidcund moved his pawn with disinterest; he was only playing to spend time with Circe. Strategy did not matter to him in the moment. He glanced up at her, and she was as luminous as he remembered. Vidcund smirked, “Maybe you’re just that good now.” Circe chuckled in her intoxicating windchime way, and for a moment, Vidcund was sixteen again. “You’re the best chess player I know. You’re just being a gentleman.” Circe winked and grazed Vidcund’s leg with her foot, “You can be rough with me.” Vidcund cleared his throat and felt the tips of his ears burn. Suddenly, there was not enough blood going to his brain for him to think about chess. “Jeez, Circe, now I can’t play.” Circe’s lips curled back, revealing her dazzling teeth, “Oh well.” 

Circe put the pieces away. She pointed to a picture on the wall, stuck up with tape. “Are those Starfleet uniforms?” She grabbed the picture and examined it; Lazlo wore a TNG operations uniform while Vidcund wore a command one. The paper frame said ‘Renaissance Wonder Faire, Maricopa County, 2000.’ Vidcund nodded, “Lazlo and I went as a landing party, like in ‘Thine Own Self.’” Circe chuckled; she loved how the Curious Brothers were dweebs. For a moment, she missed the old times. She noticed something missing in the picture, “Paz isn’t in this?” Vidcund crossed his arms. “He only started talking to us again after he got pregnant.” Circe stuck the picture back on the wall. “I see.”

“Circe,” Vidcund cleaned his glasses. “Paz begged me not to ask, but I have to know what’s going on with you and that guy. The commands and candy thing.” Circe smiled wryly as she crossed one leg over the other. “You wish that were you. Isn’t that right, Viddy? I know you’d be such a good boy.” Vidcund could not help the physical reaction caused by Circe. He did his best to ignore it. He leaned forward, “But why do you have a guy trained like that? Not to make assumptions..” Vidcund lowered his tone to whisper, “But he overpronounces his sibilant consonants. I think he pitches for the other team.” Vidcund stated this with such weighty sincerity that Circe wanted to laugh. She thought that aspect of her Nervous Subject was apparent to anyone who spent a moment with him. Here Vidcund was, using the unsure phrase of ‘I think.’ She simply nodded, “I know how it looks, but it’s not like that with him. It’s just so I can control him better. Well, the candy is for that. The commands are really just for convenience.” 

Vidcund looked at Circe after realizing what she implied. “What’s in the candy?” Circe unzipped the pouch on her hip and slid one to Vidcund. “Find out for yourself.” Vidcund eyed the confection in the strawberry wrapper with suspicion. “I don’t think I want to.” He slid the candy back. Circe pouted and cooed sweetly, “I wouldn’t put you in the basement. You’d get the extra bedroom. I always wanted a harem of cute blonds.” Vidcund thought about being within fifty feet of Loki and decided against it. He pressed an index finger against the chessboard. “So you’re drugging this guy.” Circe smiled coyly. “That word has such a negative connotation. I prefer medicating .” This was not the Circe Vidcund remembered. How could the girl next door be capable of this? Vidcund adjusted his glasses. “But why are you doing it?” Circe sighed with her whole chest. “The kid is an asshole , Vidcund. He would clog toilets for fun. He used to piss on the rugs and on our beds. We had to do something after he cracked Loki’s skull.” Vidcund did not know what to say; Circe felt like admitting something. “Loki doesn’t just get chamomile in his tea.” 

Vidcund felt his spine turn to ice. “You’re drugging your husband?” Circe laughed. There was nothing she loved better than watching people squirm in her presence. “My name is Circe, after all. I don’t know what else you were expecting. Could you please give me the time, Viddy?” Vidcund pulled his sleeve up to read his watch, “Almost eight.” Circe rolled her shoulders back, relaxing into the chair. “We got time. Loki will start feeling sick if he doesn’t have his tea by ten.” Vidcund wondered what made Circe like this. Had she always been this way? Impossible. He remembered her differently. Circe leaned over the table and slipped a candy into the pocket of Vidcund’s sport coat. “Just think about it, Viddy. I know you miss me.”

Chapter Text

Vulnerability was terrifying for the grimborn; he could brave beatings and a scalpel biting into his flesh while restrained to a table, but nothing came close to what he felt sitting next to Pascal. The joy he got from their friendship had withered into stomach-twisting anxiety. It was a jagged, bleeding wound. It was only a matter of time before the pregnant man found out about him, before he found out that he was a freak of nature. “I should have told you this from the beginning,” Nervous stared at his feet as he felt Pascal’s eyes on him. Words failed him as he pictured the chain reaction that would follow; Nervous would lose the one friend he had. Pascal watched Nervous ruminate, “What’s wrong?” Nervous glanced at Pascal and decided it was best to just get it over with. 

He grabbed Pascal’s hand and pressed it to his chest to make his point. “Cold skin, no heartbeat. I’m dead.” Pascal waited to feel anything; he moved his hand up Nervous’s chest, then lower, feeling only eerie stillness. The bespectacled man shook his head in disbelief, “Except you’re not dead. I’m talking to you right now.” He pressed an ear to Nervous’s cool chest and waited. He could only hear the steady work of Nervous’s lungs as he breathed. Pascal looked at his friend in wonder, “Fascinating. I’ve never met a person like you.” Nervous held his arm in shame, “I’m not a person…”

Pascal pressed his fingers against the grimborn’s carotid artery; he was unable to find a pulse. He sat back in amazement, “You’re a person, just a very unique one.” “No, Pascal,” Nervous sighed, this was getting harder by the moment. “I’m not human. I’m like Frankenstein’s monster or some shit, except he had a heartbeat.” Pascal shook his head, “You’re not a monster, Nervous.” Nervous rubbed his face in despair; it was time for him to drive his point home. “Can I show you something? It involves me touching you, but I promise not to hurt you.” In that moment, Pascal knew that he had to know everything about Nervous. “Yes.”

Nervous scooped Pascal up into his arms like it was nothing. Pascal quailed, “Be careful!” Nervous adjusted his hold on his friend, “I got you.” Pascal wrapped his arms around the grimborn’s neck and held on for dear life. In this moment, he was no longer self-conscious about the weight he had gained in pregnancy. Surely this would be the nail in the coffin of his friendship with Pascal; Nervous’s voice was desolate, “I can pick Loki up like this, too. Look at how fucking scrawny I am, it doesn’t make sense.” 

Pascal was barely listening to Nervous, his head was swimming; he had one thing in mind. “Can you take me to the roof?” Nervous looked at Pascal with knitted brows. Everyone else could see what a monster he was, everyone but Pascal. He should be screaming in terror by now. “That’s it? You’re not freaked out? I’ve been trying to spell it out for you.” Pascal swung his feet lightly, “It’s hard for me to get up those stairs right now, and my feet hurt. I miss lying on the lounge chair.” Nervous stood holding Pascal, confused as to why someone as smart as him was not afraid. “I don’t get it. Why aren’t you scared? Why are you still talking to me like I’m normal? I could hurt you.” Pascal simply shrugged, “You could, but I know you won’t. Let’s go out this door; I don’t need my brothers teasing me about this.” Nervous carried Pascal over the threshold of his exterior bedroom door and made his way to the stairs at the front of the property. 

“He’s gonna need more candy in a bit.” Circe pointed out the window as she watched Nervous carry Pascal up the stairs. Vidcund got to his feet in a startle. “What the fuck is he doing to Paz? He’s pregnant!” Lazlo ran over but missed it; he seemed to miss everything as the youngest sibling. Circe was nonplussed. She spoke with a detached boredom, “Oh, relax, you two. Nervous is much stronger than he looks; carrying Paz like that is nothing to him.” Vidcund would not soon forget the sight of his brother being bridal carried up the stairs. He would definitely tease Pascal about this later.

Chapter Text

Nervous sat next to Pascal as he lay back and studied the blanket of stars over Strangetown. Pascal rested his hands over his belly, feeling the movement of life within him. It had been a while since he had the opportunity to lie under the stars. “I’m still deciding on names. I have it narrowed down to two.” Pascal spoke softly as he watched a satellite pass. Nervous was hunched before he straightened his spine, imagining how Circe would chastise him over his posture. He scratched his chin. “What are they?” Pascal moved a hand over his baby bump, “Kepler or Tycho… But I’m leaning towards Tycho.” Nervous sat with it. It had only just now occurred to him that he was spending time with two people. He fiddled with the worn hem of his shirt. Pascal was pregnant and very soon he would have a child. Nervous’s friend would have a baby. Something about the realization struck a chord within him. “Tycho,” Nervous echoed in a whisper before he lay down on the lounge chair next to Pascal’s. The grimborn looked up at the spray of stars and wondered what life would have been like if he had been born to someone who wanted him. 

He often thought about Olive and how she probably expected to have a normal baby, not one like him. Nervous’s attempts to reconnect with his mother had been shaky; at times, it seemed the only thing that made them a family was their blood. Was she like Pascal when she was pregnant with him? Did she consider names like this? Did she rub her own belly with love? Nervous wished he were not such a disappointment. He wished that he could have stayed with Olive, and that she could have loved him the way he always craved. His train of thought was broken when Pascal reached over and lightly brushed his arm with his fingers to get the grimborn’s attention. “See that star? That’s Sirius.” Pascal pointed to the brightest star in the sky and looked over at Nervous to make sure he saw it. “You can only see it this time of year. That’s why these are called the dog days of summer.” 

A meteor streaked across the sky like condensation racing down a window pane. Pascal pointed it out. “Shooting star. Make a wish.” Nervous watched it race past and disappear below the horizon. He wished he were a member of a loving family. Pascal wished he could help Nervous. There was a magic to be found in the nocturnal desert; what the sun oppressed with its radiant power found solace in the wan moon. The ecosystem interacted with itself under the spray of stars. “What I like about stargazing is that it helps me put my problems into perspective. When I look at the night sky, I realize many of my issues are insignificant.” Pascal looked over at Nervous when he finished speaking. The spindly man lay back silently, staring at the waning moon. 

The silence between the men continued as crickets filled the air with their chirps. Pascal felt Tycho slam an extremity into his ribs. “Ouch!” Pascal muttered, causing Nervous to sit up in worry. Pascal reached out to him to offer reassurance. “It’s only the baby. He always moves more at night.” He shifted in the lounge chair, hoping that Tycho would reposition himself as well. Nervous chewed on his thumbnail anxiously. As so often was the case, he felt helpless. “You hurt a lot, huh?” Pascal wanted to laugh. Only Jenny could sympathize with the back pain, the fluid retention, the stretch marks that itched incessantly, the trapped gas, acid reflux, constipation, among innumerable other issues; hurt seemed too soft of a word for what Pascal was going through, but he knew Nervous meant well. So, instead, Pascal would not answer that question. Instead, he would ask his own, “Do you wanna feel the baby?” Nervous’s dark eyes lit up, “Can I?” Pascal shifted in the lounge chair, sitting up. “Yeah, give me your hand.” Pascal guided the grimborn’s hand to where he felt Tycho was. Nervous waited eagerly before he felt the gentle rhythmic tap of the baby’s hand against his. Nervous looked at Pascal and felt something he had never felt before. There was no word for this feeling. He could not help but smile. Nervous’s voice shook. “Wow.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, fun’s over. It’s time to go.” Circe ascended the stairs, Vidcund closely behind. “You’re not good to drive! You finished that bottle!” Circe grabbed the lapels of Vidcund’s sport coat. “I live just over there. I can fucking drive.” “I’m not letting you!” Circe pouted her bottom lip. “You’re yelling at me, Viddy. You’re not letting me go home. I’m going to tell Loki…” Circe pulled her BlackBerry out of her pocket and was poised to call her husband. Vidcund pictured Loki coming over and throwing the trashcan into the street before kicking his ass. “Circe, wait. I have an idea. What if I drive you home, and I have Lazlo follow me in his car?” Circe wrapped her arms around her ex-boyfriend. “You want to spend more time with me, right? What will my husband think when he sees you drop me off, hm?” 

Vidcund slid her arms off of him and kept his composure. “Lazlo can drive you, and I’ll follow him then.” Circe pouted again and crossed her arms, “You’re no fun, Viddy. That’s why it didn’t work out.” The words stung Vidcund. “Um, Circe?” Nervous twiddled his fingers together and kept his gaze averted. “What is it, boy?” “Can I ride with Pascal?” Circe shook her head. “I don’t think he’s going.” Pascal was forced out of his role of observer: “I’m going.” He had not planned on it, but if Nervous wanted him there, he would be there. Circe rolled her eyes and threw her hands up, “Fine. Whatever. You’ll owe me.” Nervous nodded, willing to pay the price.

Pascal adjusted the seatbelt so that the lap belt rested below his belly. He sat in the back of the brothers' shared sedan with Nervous as Vidcund drove. Pascal watched as the streetlamps intermittently illuminated the grimborn’s face. “Did you have fun?” Nervous felt sick as the evening drew to a close. Home waited for him. “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry if I acted weird.” “You’re not weird, buddy.” Vidcund chauffeured the pair in silence, now he knew how his mom felt when she would drive him and Circe back from the mall when they were just friends. 

Pascal cleared his throat and leaned towards Nervous, keeping his voice hushed. “What did Circe mean when she said you owe her?” Nervous blurted out, “Nothing!” Pascal kept a fixed gaze on his friend, causing him to confess. “She’ll probably wanna run experiments or do surgery.” Vidcund used the rearview mirror to briefly look at Pascal and Nervous, “Holy shit.” Pascal felt the same way. “That’s not normal, Nervous. Her behavior towards you is not okay. I’m worried that you’re in a dangerous situation.” A part of Nervous knew that Pascal was right. He knew what was happening would probably kill him. But at the same time, a part of him loved the Beakers. They took him in willingly; they were the closest thing to family he had. “It’s not that bad. I can handle it.” Pascal felt himself getting upset again. He wished Lazlo were in the car so they could turn around and save Nervous. “They’re cutting you up and doing whatever sick shit they feel like. I’m worried about you . I know you love the Beakers, but you need to see that this isn’t going to end well.” Nervous could not speak. What Pascal said was the absolute truth.

Lazlo stood on the front steps when his brothers pulled up. Loki emerged from 1 Tesla Court with a thermos mug of Circe’s tea. Pascal got out of the car with Nervous. “You’re finally done tampering with my specimen, Curious?” “Good evening to you, too, Loki. We had fun.” Nervous twitched out of fear, a part of him did not want to enter the house. “That’ll be all then, thanks for stopping by.” Loki waited for Pascal and Lazlo to get into the car. Pascal instead grabbed Nervous in a hug, not knowing if this would be the last time he saw him. “Please be safe. I’ll figure something out. Please hang in there.” Nervous hugged Pascal back clumsily; he could not remember the last time someone hugged him without it feeling invasive . Pascal held back tears, “I’m not saying goodbye.” 

Loki approached angrily, “Okay, that’s enough! You’ve done enough. You plied my wife with wine; you’re manipulating my test subject. Get out of here before I turn you into red mist! I don’t care that you’re pregnant.” Nervous stood between Loki and Pascal and stared him down. Loki apprehensively clasped his hands, fearing another skull fracture. “Circe will be out shortly, and you’ll get a candy.” “Paz, we gotta go,” Lazlo grabbed Pascal by the arm and pulled him away from the scene. Pascal cried on the car ride home.

Chapter Text

“Do you ever talk to Circe?” Pascal turned to Jenny as he sat at his computer. Jenny was caught off guard by the question; she had not heard Pascal say Circe’s name since Vidcund dated her. “Circe? Like Dr. Beaker Circe? She keeps to herself.” Pascal stared at his instant messenger. Nervous had not been online in quite a while. Pascal tried not to think of what the Beakers might be doing to him. “Did you know she keeps a guy in her basement?” Jenny thinks back to when she visited 1 Tesla Court back when she tried to be Circe’s friend. She could not remember seeing a basement. “They keep a guy in a basement?” Pascal nodded. “They’ve kept him there since he was a child.” Jenny turned her head back to the television, but she could only think about what Pascal had just said. Her tone was unsettled. “Did she adopt him? Is this her kid?” Pascal shook his head. “She bribed the social workers to get him without documentation.” 

Jenny was not sure she wanted to know the answer to the following question, but she was compelled to ask. “Circe did this? Why? ” Pascal took a moment to collect his thoughts. He explained to Jenny how Nervous Subject was a hybrid and how the Beakers used this as a justification to conduct experiments and perform needless surgeries on him. Jenny went pale in shock; she remembered Circe as a bright and sweet girl whom Vidcund was crazy for. Jenny sat in disbelief. “This is that guy you talk to online?” Pascal quietly exhaled in concealed worry, “Yes.”

Social services in Strangetown were stretched beyond their limits; the unusually high number of alien abductions in the area meant that there was a slew of alien hybrids in foster care. The children who were lucky enough to be considered for adoption were placed in a pool of the ‘most eligible’ children. The alien hybrids would often be used for medical and scientific research. Due to a lack of funding, protective services stopped being available to people once they reached fifteen. Adults could not be protected from these situations. Local authorities gladly looked the other way when pool ladder accidents occurred. Cops would only respond to calls about burglary.

“I wish you hadn’t told me, Paz. I don’t know what to do.” Jenny bent forward in her seat to cradle her head in her hands. If Jenny confronted Circe, it could mean losing her job. Pascal knew realistically that Jenny could not do anything to stop what was happening at 1 Tesla Court. He had hoped that by telling someone about what the Beakers were doing, he would think of a solution in the moment, or at least feel less sick about it. Neither of those things happened; he only burdened his sister with knowledge she was better off not knowing. “I don’t know what to do either, but I know it has to stop.”

Lazlo and Vidcund came home. The boys were happy to see Jenny’s SUV parked on the curb. Once they got into their house, they saw Jenny and Pascal sitting downcast together. Vidcund hung his sport coat by the door while Lazlo made his way to Jenny for a hug. “He told you about that guy?” Jenny hugged her baby brother a bit longer than usual. Her voice was hollow. “There’s nothing to be done.” Pascal did not miss a beat. “I’ll figure something out.” Vidcund looked at Jenny. Although tragic, her stance was the most logical. “Paz, this guy is going to die.” Pascal shook his head in denial. It was like Vidcund was trying to say all the wrong things lately. 

Vidcund adjusted his glasses, “I know you think I’m saying all the wrong things lately, but I need you to listen. You can’t go around and die on every hill. You’re going to have a kid soon, and you can’t take risks.” Vidcund finished making his point by looking at Lazlo and nodding curtly in hopes that Lazlo would agree with him. Pascal saw that gesture and looked to his youngest brother for his opinion. “I mean,” Lazlo started talking without having much to say. “Dude, I don’t see this ending well, and I’m not sure we can do anything to stop it.” Lazlo looked at Pascal and knew that he was trying his best to hide the hurt on his face. That expression prompted Lazlo to say more. “Man, I don’t want that guy to die either.”

Pascal tried to sigh quietly as he checked his instant messenger. Nervous’s status changed from offline to idle. Pascal’s fingers tapped on the keyboard. 

CuriousPaz1972: [How are you?]

Nervous’s status changed back to offline. Pascal minimized the window. Jenny pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and was braiding it to soothe herself. “Paz has always been like this. I remember when he came home from school upset about seeing kids on the playground torturing ants.” Pascal remembered passing two children who were picking the legs off of carpenter ants, one at a time. When the ants would attempt to escape, their wardens would rip off another leg. Nothing happened when Pascal told the teacher; he should have tried to stop the kids himself. Lazlo tries to braid his hair after seeing Jenny braid hers. He finds out his hair is too short and quickly gives up. “Yeah, he always had a soft spot for the suffering. I think that’s why he reads conspiracies.” Vidcund wordlessly goes to his sport coat to pull out the candy Circe gave him.

Chapter Text

The strawberry candy sat on the counter, surrounded by the Curious siblings. Vidcund had just finished explaining how Circe used these to keep a tight leash on Nervous Subject. “Of course it’s a drug,” Pascal touched his thumb and bent forefinger to his chin in thought. In hindsight, everything Circe did was perfidious. Pascal wondered if there was a bottom to the Beakers’ depravity. Jenny sat, still reeling from learning that something like this was happening just across the freeway. She did not want to believe Circe was capable of this; after all, Circe took an oath.

“She said she’d train you ? What kind of freaky-ass shit is she into?” Vidcund covered his face with his hand to conceal the reddening of his skin while Lazlo needled him. “She said it wasn’t like that. She told me that she does it because of how huge that freak is. It’s easier to control him this way.” Pascal gave Vidcund a blank stare for his word choice. Lazlo shook his head, “Okay, but why did she say she would train you like that? You didn’t answer me the first time.” Vidcund laid his head on the counter; Lazlo knew he would not be getting that answer. 

It was up to Pascal to steer the conversation back on track. “We need to figure out what she is lacing the candy with.” “I can get it tested at the hospital,” Jenny offered. Lazlo turned his attention to his sister. “What if Circe finds out?” Jenny waved the concern off, “We don’t see each other at work that often. Besides, she is usually in the O.R.” “Guys, hear me out.” Everyone turned their attention to Lazlo. “What if I took it and we studied its effects on me? I’ll just  piss in a cup and you can test that.” Jenny’s jaw dropped, “Lazlo! Absolutely n-” Pascal cut her off, “That would work.” Jenny looked at her brothers in disbelief. “No, boys! That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard from you.” 

Vidcund finally lifted his head from the counter to add his two cents. “I don’t see a problem with that idea. Just think of it as similar to what Barry Marshall and Robin Warren did.” Jenny’s eye twitched. “You cannot be serious! I’m not dumb! There is a huge difference between eating candy laced with a mystery drug and giving yourself a stomach ulcer!” Lazlo snatched the candy. “I’ll ask for forgiveness later.” Lazlo ate the candy, much to Jenny’s alarm. “Lazlo! Oh my god, you need to go to the hospital!” “Chill out, Jenny. I can’t smoke a bowl because Paz is pregnant. I’ll just park my ass in front of the TV and vibe.” 

Jenny pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Why did you two let him do that? That’s my baby brother! How could you let that happen?” Pascal picked the wrapper up with a pair of tongs and put it in a sandwich baggy. “There is most likely residue on the wrapper. I would appreciate it if you could have it tested.” Jenny sputtered, feeling ignored. “You better make damn sure nothing happens to him, or so help me, you’ll pay.” Vidcund placed a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Look, right now he is in the comfort of his home being studied by two scientists. I doubt he will be in any danger. Circe has nothing to gain by keeping a batch of poisoned candy on her.” As Vidcund said that, he began to wonder if it was possible that Circe did just that. He did his best Pascal impersonation and tried to keep his expression perfectly even. Jenny saw a hint of worry on Vidcund’s face. She sighed before standing up. “I gotta call Paul and tell him I’m staying late tonight.”

The three siblings observed Lazlo as he tried to watch Adult Swim. Pascal sat next to him with his notebook. “What are you feeling right now?” Lazlo shrugged, “Just a bit of a head rush, that’s it so far.” Pascal clicked his pen after updating his notes and watched his brother watch television. Jenny comes by with water for Lazlo, followed by Vidcund shining a flashlight in his face to gauge pupil dilation. Lazlo tries to stay cool about it. “Everyone here is kinda harshing my vibe right now. I need you all to chillax so I can enjoy this.” There is a pause before Pascal speaks. “ Are you enjoying it?” Lazlo pushes his hair out of his face, “Honestly, the head rush is getting more intense. The room is spinning a little.” Jenny rushed to Lazlo’s side and rubbed his back with her hand. “Poor Lazlo. You totally deserve it for not listening to me.”

The whole thing was done in fifteen minutes. Lazlo went to bed without incident, and Pascal had a healthy amount of notes. Vidcund turned the television off. “I’ll wake him up for a urine sample in a few hours.” Vidcund fished around the kitchen for a proper receptacle before finding a small jam jar. He hated how he would have to store pee in the fridge. “Call me if anything changes.” Jenny grabbed her purse from the desk, getting ready to go home. Pascal thumbed to a blank page in his notebook and began to sketch the candy from memory. “If something changes, you’ll be the first to know.” 

Chapter Text

“The computer was a bad idea.” Circe sat across from Loki at the dining table, waiting for her coffee to cool. “We should have gotten him another hamster.” Loki shuddered as he turned the page of his newspaper, remembering how the grimborn accidentally killed his last hamster after it bit him. Its injuries left it blind after its resurrection, and it ended up gnawing its limbs off. Loki had to peel the hamster off a puddle of its dried blood. “We’re not doing that again. Just remove the internet. This is like when that one girl kept calling him… Amy, was it?” Circe sipped her coffee before correcting her husband, “Annie.” “Whatever. This will pass.” 

The couple wordlessly enjoyed each other’s company before Loki set the paper down. “Can you believe the freak show they got going on over there? Alien abduction? On yourself? Okay, pervert.” Circe threw her head back in laughter, having kept the same thought to herself since first seeing Pascal pregnant. “And he’s going to be nine months behind at work. Fifty bucks says he’ll quit.” Their domestic tranquility was broken by the muffled sound of nu metal playing mutedly from the basement. Circe and Loki exchanged a look, knowing that Nervous was playing the music on the loudest volume possible. Circe rolled her eyes. “I’ll give him some candy in a moment.” Loki went to the sink to rinse his mug. “I think he acts out so you’ll tell him to behave.”

Nervous Subject sat muzzy on his bed; he hoped the loud music would wake him up. The Beakers sedated him early and heavily last night so they could go on a date. Nervous slapped his face in a bid to keep his eyes open. Circe stepped down into the basement and found Nervous slumped over, asleep again. She had to yell above the noise, “TURN THE MUSIC OFF!” The grimborn snapped awake in an instant and did just that. Circe tossed him a candy. “Good boy. I know you’re trying your best.” Circe stood at the foot of his bed and observed his head lolling forward as he unwrapped the candy and ate it. Nervous hated the way that the Beakers treated him as nothing more than an animal, but he knew that he was not a person. He believed he deserved this treatment; he deserved the commands, he deserved to eat his food from a metal dish. He hated how he was not a person despite looking like one. He hated that he loved praise. 

Nervous rolled the candy around in his mouth, feeling instantly relaxed and more alert. Despite this, his mind was still soggy from whatever the Beakers gave him. Circe inspected her nails. “We’re cutting back on your internet privileges.” Circe picked up Nervous’s chart to see how much midazolam he got last night. She stifled a laugh when she realized she had overdosed him. “Whoops. You’ll be okay. Walk it off.” Nervous cracked his eyelids open to look at the petite woman in front of him. “Why am I losing the internet?” Circe adjusted her glasses before answering coldly. “You know I don’t like it when you ask me questions.” Nervous sat with his eyes closed while he fought the drug in his system. “Why can’t I have a friend?” 

Nervous could hear Circe’s sandals snap against the stone floor as she approached. She rubbed the buzzed portion of his scalp, over the fresh stitches behind his left ear. “Honey… We’re your friends. You don’t need anyone else.” Nervous gave in and allowed himself to enjoy the physical contact. He did not always like Circe, but he loved her. He wished she could be the mother he never had. Consciousness was getting easier for the grimborn to keep. Nervous whined in a defeated voice, “But I like Pascal.” Circe began to lightly trail her nails up and down his back, the way she had done to soothe him since he was a child. “Poor guy. I liked Paz, too, once. I grew up with him.” “You did?” “Mhm. He has always been brilliant, and he is quite the artist, too. But, he takes advantage of people when they are most vulnerable.” 

Nervous pulled his knees to his chest and eyed Circe anxiously. “He does?” Circe had to pause so she could keep a straight face. Sometimes it was so funny how gullible her ward was. “Vidcund and I had just broken up. I was crying on their couch, and Paz… tried to kiss me.” Circe thought she gave an outstanding performance; her voice quivered, and she defensively wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to sell the idea that she had been violated. Nervous averted his gaze while he visualized the scenario. A part of him suddenly hoped that Pascal saw him as vulnerable, too. “That… That doesn’t sound so bad.” The sudden sound of skin meeting skin rang out when Circe struck Nervous. The sting of the slap was enough to make his eyes water. “What the hell would you know? You live in a fucking basement! We’re not letting you talk to Pascal anymore!”

Chapter Text

Jenny pulled up to 2 Cover Up Road with a manila folder of the results from the drug test. Her brothers were smart, but they were also idiots. It was beyond her how anyone could eat a drugged candy as Lazlo did; the results made her feel better, but sooner or later, she would have to sit him down and make him promise never to do such a thing again. Jenny hugged her youngest brother as soon as he got inside. “Lazlo, you’re still the dumbest man alive for what you did, but you’re going to be okay.” Lazlo was taken off guard, but he hugged her back. “That’s good to hear. I’m sorry, Jenny, but I did it for science.” “I don’t wanna hear it, young man. Never do that again, or else you’ll be hearing from me.” Lazlo gave her a pat between the shoulder blades. “Okay. You have my word.” 

Pascal hobbled over to Jenny. “Let’s see the results.” Jenny handed the folder to her shortest brother. “It’s nothing major, Paz.” Pascal flipped the pages repeatedly, making sure he was reading them correctly. “Nicotine? Just nicotine? Vidcund, didn’t you say Circe made the candy sound illicit?” Vidcund popped his head out of his garden. “Yeah, she made it sound like that shit in Brave New World.” Jenny expected Pascal to be more at ease. “Don’t you feel better knowing that it’s nothing that hard? He won’t die from this.” Pascal gripped the folder as he considered the implications of the nicotine-laced candy. While he was grateful it was nothing harder, he knew that it was enough to keep Nervous dependent on the Beakers. It was another chain added to his fetters. Pascal’s eyes drifted to the tile floor. “They addicted him… Honestly, Jen, I’m worried that it’s too late. He hasn’t been online in over a week.” Jenny looked to Lazlo and then to Pascal. “We all know this is a possibility, but you could be wrong. If they are performing experiments on him, then it’s safe to say that he is worth more alive than dead.” 

Pascal hoped that Jenny was right. He could not help but blame himself for the entire situation. If he and Nervous had never met up, none of this would be happening. He wondered what terrors were occurring at 1 Tesla Court, and how much of it he was responsible for. Pascal tried to ground himself with a deep breath. “It’s too early to spiral about this, Paz. For all we know, he is just chilling.” Pascal shot Lazlo an icy glance, causing the youngest Curious brother to put his hands up defensively.  “I’m just saying, don’t freak out about this yet. Damn, dude.” The blond Curious brother interrupted, “He’s right. We don’t have all the information yet. We can’t just bust him out; we could do more harm than good.” Vidcund carefully carried his largest African violet to the kitchen sink to refill its reservoir. Pascal had not thought of that. Maybe Vidcund was right. He began to wonder if this had anything to do with him being pregnant. 

The harsh trill of the phone got everyone’s attention. Vidcund was closest to the receiver, “Hello.” “Which one of you is this?” Vidcund recognized Loki’s accented voice. He could hear yelling and destruction in the background. He thought he heard Circe say something. “Vidcund.” Loki scoffed. “God no, not you. Put the seahorse on.” Vidcund placed his hand over the transmitter, “Paz, Loki wants to talk to you.” Pascal motioned for the phone, and Vidcund gave it to him. “What is it, Loki?” “It’s you! I ought to send you the fucking repair bill, you nosy little asshole! He is wreaking havoc over here!” Pascal heard several loud bangs and the sound of something brittle shattering. Loki growled. “There goes a stained glass window, you fucking prick.” 

A smile threatened to show up on Pascal’s face. “Put him on.” “Hell no! I’m not rewarding that psycho!” Pascal heard Circe’s alarmed voice over the phone, begging Loki to hand the phone over to their captive. Loki muttered something foul under his breath before going along with Pascal and his wife. “HEY UGLY BASTARD, I GOT PASCAL ON THE PHONE!” Pascal held the phone at arm’s length as Loki yelled. His siblings looked on in shock, having clearly heard Loki as well. Pascal brought the phone back to his ear. “Nervous?” There was heavy breathing on the end of the line. “Pascal?” The bespectacled man was flooded with relief at the sound of his friend’s voice. Pascal thought about the sleepless nights spent worrying over someone he had just met in person. He angled his body away from his siblings for a semblance of privacy. “Buddy, I missed talking to you. How are you holding up?” 

Pascal rested a hand on his belly as he heard Nervous sigh. “I’m holding up.” “Did they hurt you? It sounded like a window broke.” Pascal hears the unfamiliar sound of Nervous lightly chuckling. “They wouldn’t let me talk to you. They don’t like that we’re friends. I sorta lost it.” Pascal was unaccustomed to the idea that someone would want to socialize with him so badly. At La Fiesta Tech, classmates would often want to study with him, but that was the extent of his social life. Nervous was the first person who wanted to get to know him. Pascal could not conceal his smile. “We can be friends for as long as we want to be. No one else has a say in that.” There is a lull in the conversation before Pascal heard a disruption on Nervous’s end. “Loki is trying to grab the phone now. I have to give it back.” “I am glad to have heard from you, Nervous. Take care.” 

The phone was back in Loki’s hand. “Let’s schedule a playdate, Curious.” “Okay. My schedule is clear. Just come by.” Loki slammed a fist against the wall. “No! You’re coming here this time, and you are NOT to bring that greasy blond rat with you!” Pascal wanted to remark how the only greasy blond rat he knew kept someone in his basement, but that was an inside thought. Loki continued, “You can bring that stoner.” Pascal looked out the window. He concentrated on 1 Tesla Court. His tone darkened. “You won’t get away with what you’re doing forever, Loki.” The scientist on the other end broke out in a loud guffaw that lasted longer than it should have. “The thing, Curious, is that you still think he is a person! We’ve lived with him for over a decade, and we know this is the best way to deal with him. Do you honestly think we brought a child into our home with the intention of treating him like this? He made us this way.”

Pascal felt anger rise within him; he did not try to stop himself. “You’ve always been a pathetic excuse for a scientist, and you abuse your credentials in order to have a semblance of power. You’ll always feel insecure.” Vidcund and Lazlo high-fived each other. For a moment, all Pascal heard was Loki’s breathing. “Watch how you talk, Pascal. If you disrespect me again, my test subject will get a crash course in chemical burns.” Pascal’s heart plummeted, and he sat numbly with the phone. Loki clicked his tongue. “That’s what I thought. You and that hippie will come to my house this Thursday at one.” Loki promptly hung up. Pascal shook lightly as he sat; he was truly powerless.

Chapter Text

“Dude, I just noticed that they don’t have a front door.” Lazlo crooked his arm so Pascal could use him as support as they climbed the front steps of 1 Tesla Court. In Lazlo’s free hand was a grocery bag of snacks that Pascal insisted on buying for Nervous. The Beaker home was a castle complete with a turret; Pascal noted the boarded-up window just to the left of the arches. Lazlo kept pace with his oldest brother. “How do you think they keep this place cool? I bet they have an air curtain.” Pascal was too out of breath to speak, but he contemplated the humor in how his home had four exterior doors and the Beaker house had none. Loki stood just beyond the middle arch and smiled darkly. “Oh, I didn’t think about how hard it would be for you to walk up those steps in this heat with your condition. You’ll have to forgive me.” Pascal did his best not to breathe too loud; he did not want to give Loki the satisfaction of it. 

A blast of air hit the Curious brothers at a fifteen-degree angle as they entered the house. Lazlo was right about the air curtain. “Circe is at work, so I’m afraid it will just be the four of us today.” Pascal did not see a sign of Nervous anywhere. Before he could ask, Loki pulled a remote out of his pocket and pressed one of the buttons on it. Metal security doors rolled down over the arches, blocking all exits. Loki could not help but smile when he saw fearful confusion flash on Lazlo and Pascal’s faces. “You have nothing to worry about; you two are free to leave any time. This is only to keep the house cool and to keep the specimen from escaping. Lazlo took Pascal to the loveseat and thought about how it was customary to offer guests water. 

Pascal looked at Loki with suspicion. “Where’s Nervous?” Loki smoothed his devilish goatee with his thumb and forefinger. “Patience, Curious. I was just about to get him.” Loki retreated into a room around the corner. He returned minutes later with Nervous Subject stooped behind him, wearing a collar with a blinking red light. Pascal glared at Loki. “You put a collar on him?” “He left me no choice. He went on a rampage.” Loki produced the remote from his pocket again. “There is nothing he hates more than being shocked. Just watch.” Loki pressed the button without hesitation, sending Nervous Subject to his knees, screaming in agony as he clawed at his throat. Pascal struggled to his feet and made his way to Loki; Lazlo beat him to it. “What the actual fuck is your problem, man? Cut that shit out.” Loki released the button, leaving Nervous slumped over on the floor, gasping in ragged breaths. Pascal made his way to him.

“Nervous! Are you okay, buddy? Please say something.” Pascal shook Nervous’s shoulder, and the grimborn feebly moved in response. Loki mocked Pascal, “ Please say something . Barf.” Lazlo shook his head at Loki and coldly gave him a thumbs down. Nervous unsteadily got to his hands and knees, panting heavily. The grimborn’s eyes flash with the sad realization that he could not hide his reality from Pascal anymore. Loki spoke detached, unaffected by his test subject’s suffering. “I knew Circe was foolish for attempting positive reinforcement. That kind of thing only works on intelligent animals. You can’t show kindness to a brute like him. Pain is the only way to make him listen.” Loki made a start to kick Nervous over, but Lazlo blocked him. “We didn’t come here to watch you kick someone when they’re down. What happened to ethics? How can you call yourself a scientist?” Loki huffed at the youngest Curious brother; he did not expect Lazlo to be much trouble. “Very well. We’ll do the playdate then.” Lazlo helped Pascal up before offering Nervous a hand. Nervous shrank away from the gesture, humiliated, and got up without assistance. 

Lazlo and Loki sat at the kitchen table with a jigsaw puzzle while Nervous and Pascal sat in the parlor. Pascal kept his eyes on the coffee table, replaying the scene in his head. He spoke softly, “That’s normal, huh?” Nervous did not say anything. He never wanted Pascal to see him like that. The fantasy of the Beakers he clung to and portrayed to Pascal was shattered. Pascal looked to his friend, his brown eyes were dull with sadness. “You’re not a brute, and you are smart.” Nervous did not respond. Pascal did not know him like that. He only knew the person he wanted to be, the person he was in their messages. Pascal continued, “Do you mind if I look at the collar? Maybe I can deactivate it.” Nervous looked at Pascal defeatedly. “You can’t deactivate it, but you can look.” 

Nervous hunched lower so Pascal could get a good view. He could not slip two fingers between the Kevlar and the grimborn’s neck. He could only fit his pinky. “I’m sorry they did this to you, Nervous. This is my fault.” Nervous shook his head. “I’m the one who broke shit. You shouldn’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Nervous pulled away and looked at Pascal. He was glowing, his hair had a lustrous shine, and his limbs were softly filled out. He rested a hand on his rounded baby bump. Nervous was gangly and cadaverous, a rotting weed. Pascal was a fecund garden. Nervous was parched clay. Nervous knew that his story was drawing to a close. His future held nothing but death; Pascal’s was full of life.

Chapter Text

Lazlo put two glasses of water on the coffee table for Pascal and Nervous. “Who the fuck doesn’t offer guests water?” He points at Nervous, “You okay, man?” Nervous could not bring himself to look at Lazlo, “I’m okay.” “Paz, you should give him his snacks. I gotta go back to Loki.” Lazlo walked back to the kitchen while Pascal put the grocery bag next to the grimborn. “We got you some treats. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I tried to get a little bit of everything.” Nervous rummaged through the bag and pulled out a honey bun. He ripped the wrapper open and shoved the pastry into his mouth. Pascal felt satisfaction in watching Nervous eat; this was one of the ways he could help him. 

Nervous finished the bun and began to feverishly lick the frosting off the wrapper. Pascal winced as he felt Tycho press against his diaphragm. “Nervous, I’m concerned about you.” Pascal adjusted his glasses while he formulated what he wanted to say next. “Living here must be very hard. Do you ever have thoughts of self-harm… Or suicide?” Nervous dug around in the grocery bag, finding a small bag of Hot Cheetos. “Just the usual amount.” The grimborn shook the corn puffs into his mouth while Pascal studied his expression for signs of distress. “I see.”

“My mom and I would spend entire weekends just doing puzzles like this.” Lazlo started by finding all the edge pieces of the puzzle, like Kitty taught him. Loki replied, “My sister gave this to me for Christmas. We used to do puzzles every winter.” The Icelandic man thought back to when he and Erin would sit on the living room floor and sort the pieces by color. Loki hated puzzles with large swaths of sky in them; a puzzle with a clear sky always took the longest. The jigsaw puzzle Loki and Lazlo were assembling was a picture of puppies in a basket. “Did you and your sister save the puzzles after you were done, or did you smash them apart so you could do them again?” Loki considered Lazlo’s question; he was almost done collecting the green pieces that would make up the lush grass into a pile. “There was an equestrian puzzle that we framed. My sister always loved horses, so she wanted to hang the puzzle in her room. She took it with her when she moved out.” Lazlo nodded while he put a stray green piece into Loki’s pile. “Horses, huh? My mom’s family raised poultry. I always thought that was funny because their name is Hogleg.” Loki gave Lazlo a look of recognition. “My parents used to get their eggs from Hogleg Farm. Small world.” Lazlo snorted, “More like small town.” Lazlo began to assemble the sleeping face of a German shepherd puppy.

♢♢♢

It was on that July night at 2 Cover Up Road that Pascal learned of Nervous’s ability to raise the dead. Nervous described how he could spin the recently deceased’s gossamer-thin threads of essence in his fingers and place them back into their bodies, thereby rekindling the flame of life. The grimborn demonstrated the state he entered in order to make this possible. His eyes were vacant, his body tensed, and his hair stood on end. He held his hands out in front of him, fingers spread as if to catch the filament of life as it escaped its source. Pascal watched in fascination as Nervous Subject momentarily became something else, something amazing. Nervous blinked, returning to himself. He looked at his friend, expecting to see fear on Pascal’s face. “I can't revive anything larger than a cat yet." Nervous paused, waiting for Pascal to say anything. He continued talking to fill the silence. His voice was pained, "This is the last time we’re gonna talk, huh?” Pascal caught his breath. He asked gently, “Why do you say that?” Nervous was momentarily tongue-tied. “You should be freaked out by what I am.” Pascal’s eyes grew wide with excitement, “You’re the most interesting person I've met! I wanna learn all I can about you.” Nervous could not accept these words as genuine. Pascal would understand what an abomination he was in time.

♢♢♢

“That’s no reason for them to keep you here.” Pascal watched as Nervous refused to make eye contact with him. Nervous seemed to believe that he should be held in captivity, and Pascal could not convince him otherwise. “There is no one else like me out there. No one else can raise the dead. I’m a monster.” Nervous finished his thought by chewing on the skin around his nails. Pascal shook his head; it hurt him to hear those words. “You are not a monster. You’re my friend.” Nervous’s tone became more distraught. He raised his voice, “Why can’t you see me the way everyone else does? What’s wrong with you?” 

Pascal stared blankly at the grimborn, not taking his tone to heart. “This environment isn’t a good place for you, Nervous. I want to help you.” Nervous replied to Pascal’s statement with a scowl. “Everyone who has ever wanted to help me changed their minds. You’ll find out how rotten I am, and you’ll leave just like them. I wish you’d do it sooner than later.” Pascal hesitantly reached out to Nervous and touched his arm gently where an old scar was. “You’re not rotten. You’re traumatized. I’ll always be your friend.” Nervous looked at Pascal with wounded eyes; he wanted to trust him. Pascal laid his hand on the scar, “You can count on me.” Nervous was afraid of being hurt. He let the words bead off of him before they could soak in. “I was never supposed to exist, Pascal. I shouldn’t have been born.”

Pascal closed his eyes and sighed heavy. “Please don’t say that. Your life has meaning despite how you feel. It has meaning outside of our friendship, even.” Nervous sat in thought. Ever since he came to live with the Beakers, his life had been about research. He existed to further their careers and make them rich. Nervous thought he wanted to be useful to them, but really all he wanted was the love of a family. Nervous felt the tight collar around his neck and knew that it was too late for the Beakers to give him that. 

He looked at Pascal; he remembered the transformative moment they shared on the roof. “It’s Tycho.” Pascal looked at the grimborn, inarticulate. Nervous pulled a king-sized candy bar out of the bag. “It’s just, when I felt him, I knew I couldn’t ever let anything bad happen to him. I can’t let him have the life I have.” Nervous offered Pascal one of the twin bars in the wrapper. Pascal accepted it. “I know that’s your baby, but just know I’ll do anything to protect him.” Nervous bit into his candy bar and replied with a mouth full of nougat, “Sorry if that’s weird or whatever.” 

Pregnancy had been a solitary experience for Pascal. He had his family, but otherwise, he felt alone. While helpful, his brothers could not fully sympathize with what he was going through. Even though she was pregnant twice, Jenny could not fully do it either; her children were conceived on earth, and her body was made to accommodate pregnancy. Pascal never imagined himself becoming a parent, much less a single one. For the past eight months, he believed his journey was a solitary one. After hearing what Nervous said, Pascal no longer felt that way. “No, no. What you said wasn’t weird at all. Tycho added meaning to my life, too. He’s good at that sort of thing.”

Chapter Text

Lazlo had the lower right quadrant of the puzzle nearly assembled. He was trying to find the correct piece for a patch of grass. “You guys have that dude trained and in a collar. You guys are a couple of freaks.” Loki’s face flushed a deep scarlet. “What on earth are you implying?” Lazlo shook his head, “Idunno, man.” Loki’s voice took on a defensive tone, “ We’re not the ones getting probed and knocked up.” Lazlo shrugged, “Idunno, man.” Loki stewed while he assembled the branches of a sprawling tree. He leaned forward and hissed, “That thing isn’t even human. He is our test subject. I have no idea why he has garnered the interest of your brother.” Lazlo looked up from the puzzle. He quizzically stared at Loki. “What do you mean he’s not human? I thought he was just strong.” Loki’s eyes darted towards where Pascal and Nervous were sitting. He whispered in a grave tone, “He is half psychopomp. His mother successfully performed a ritual so that she could conceive a child with Death. He is potentially the first of his kind in centuries.” 

Lazlo thought about how that could work; how someone could have a child with the personification of a natural state. He took a moment to process the information, rubbing his facial hair in thought. Lazlo decided that someone like Nervous Subject fit right into Strangetown. He relaxed his shoulders once more, “That’s chill. Being human is boring. I would be stoked if I became a werewolf.” Lazlo finished the face of a golden retriever puppy and smiled longingly. Loki narrowed his eyes. “Why on earth are you like this?” Lazlo took a drink of his water, thinking about Loki’s question. “Idunno, man. Why do you have the son of Death trained and wearing a collar?”

Nervous stared at the floral pattern of the carpet, he was thinking of what Circe said. “Did you really try to kiss Circe? She said you tried taking advantage of her.” Pascal almost shot his sip of water out of his nose. “I never took advantage of her! I was like, nineteen at most! I just tried to kiss her!” Nervous pictured the scenario in his head. It made sense; Circe was beautiful, and she did say the feud started over her. Loki and Vidcund were wrapped around her finger; it only made sense that Pascal would be too. Nervous felt like a fool, and he did not know why. No one would like him like that. No one would try to kiss him. “That’s why you and the Beakers are fighting.” Nervous angled himself away from Pascal, if only to hide the embarrassment on his face. Pascal leaned towards the grimborn in an attempt to regain his attention. “No. That’s why Vidcund is fighting with Loki. Loki is fighting with me over that, but it was nothing.” Nervous looked at Pascal; his large eyes were blameless. “Nervous,” Pascal’s voice quivered ever so slightly. “The feud started because of Circe, but now,” Pascal could not bring himself to look at the grimborn any longer. Eye contact was too intimate. “Now it’s about what the Beakers are doing to you. I’m worried about you, Nerv.” 

Nervous’s voice was momentarily caught in his throat. Vulnerability was humiliating; it was scary. Nervous pictured himself lost in a sea of choppy waves. He was drowning, and it was too late for him. If Pascal tried to help now, it would only ensure that they both go under. He looked at the heavily pregnant man beside him. “Don’t make me your problem, Pascal.” Nervous reached into the grocery bag and found the last item: a packet of jerky. He set it aside for later. Pascal involuntarily scoffed, “You were on the floor . You were nearly unresponsive. You almost died !” Pascal shouted in a whisper, only for Nervous to chuckle. “I can take care of myself, you know. You’ve seen how strong I am.” Frustration was building in Pascal; he took a grounding breath. “You seem reluctant to let me help you. Why? I am a safe person. I hope you know that you can trust me.” 

Nervous ignored Pascal, choosing instead to chew on his cuticles. The most important lesson Nervous was forced to learn was that ‘safe’ people gave up on him. People he trusted hurt him. The only person he needed was himself. Even so, Pascal was different. Pascal did not recoil when they shook hands. Pascal did not scream in horror when he realized what Nervous was. 

“You’re pregnant.” Nervous wiped his thumb, bitten raw, onto his jeans. “So?” “You have bigger things to worry about.” Pascal collected his thoughts as he observed Nervous. Pascal saw the sickly pallor, the bruises, the stitches, and the scars. He saw bones and tendons where they should not be readily visible. He saw the sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks. “Helping you is my choice. I can’t ignore this, Nervous.” In that moment, the grimborn wanted a hug. Touch generally repulsed him; he hated feeling the contrast of his body against others. He hated being made aware of his unnatural coldness and how his body was only made up of sharp angles. Nervous thought back to when he carried Pascal up onto his roof and how warm and soft he was in his arms. He thought back to when Pascal hugged him before he left, how right the hug felt, and how it had been what he spent his life craving. He wondered if it would be right to hold Pascal again, but this thought never left his mind. Soon, Pascal would be a father. Pascal was meant to hug his baby, not the town freak. Nervous wished Pascal would give up on him, because he had given up on himself long ago.

Chapter Text

Pascal thought about how Nervous flinched and froze up when he hugged him before leaving. Pascal reflected on what the grimborn’s childhood must have been like; how likely it was that fear dominated his every thought, and how his body grew to be accustomed to hits over hugs. Pascal felt sick on the ride home. Lazlo reached for the volume knob when Rush started playing on the radio, turning the volume up. Pascal was in no mood to hear Lazlo tap the steering wheel in beat with Neil Peart’s drumming. “Do you mind turning that down?” Lazlo complied by turning the volume down slightly. “It’s fucked up what they are doing to that guy. I’m still not sure how we can help him, Paz.” Pascal kept his gaze focused out the passenger window; the August sun scorched the last of the monsoon vegetation. He thought back to Glarn’s funeral and what Jenny said during the patchwork eulogy. Their father would have a plan; he would have figured something out. Pascal wished he had inherited Glarn’s prudence. He thought out loud, “Do you think we’re running out of time?” Lazlo sucked air in through his teeth. He did not want to answer. He did not need to; Pascal knew what the silence portended. 

Nervous lay shirtless on the exam table as Circe snapped her gloves on. “You knew eating all that crap would mess your stomach up, but you did it anyway.” Circe shook her head while she filled a syringe with medicine. Nervous used his forearm to shield his eyes from the blinding glare of the surgical lamp. “It’s just, no one ever thought about me like that before. Pascal was being nice.” “And you were being stupid. Typical Nervous Subject.” Circe sighed before lightly pinching the skin on his abdomen and administering a subcutaneous injection. Nervous lay still while she placed a band-aid over where he got the shot. Circe handed him a strawberry candy. “Circe?” “Hm?” Nervous rolled onto his side. “How do you know if you like someone in a love way?” Circe was quiet while she jotted down notes in the grimborn’s file. She looked up, wearing an expression that was a mix of shock and disgust. “What are you, twelve? Don’t tell me you have a crush on a guy you’ve seen twice.” Nervous felt his face burning up. “No! It’s not like that. I was just wondering.”

Circe retracted the tip of her pen with a pointed click. “What’s the point of my explaining something like that to you? You would have to experience life to know what love is, and you can’t experience life in a basement. You’re just lonely.” Nervous silently agreed with her words. He was an outsider to life itself. He knew he would have no reference to love, something that even his caregivers denied him. Even so, when he thought about Pascal, he was filled with a warm, viscous feeling; it swallowed him whole, and it was bigger than friendship. Circe watched the gears turn in Nervous’s head. She sat on the stool in front of her test subject. “Look, you’re confusing your own feelings. You like that someone is being nice to you, but that’s all that is. It’s a flimsy sham built on your own insecurities.” Nervous could only blink at her, knowing that she must be right. Circe placed her petite, bronzed hand on his bare, bruised shoulder. Nervous anticipated feeling her nails dig into his skin again, as she had done many times before. Circe did not protract her claws. “Remember your role, Nervous. You are here to help us further science. You need to ignore everything else because it doesn’t matter; your feelings will only get in the way of our goal.” Circe’s face cracked into a cold smirk. “Pascal would never go for something like you anyway. He’s not my type, but he has those eyes, and he is so smart and creative. As for you, well, just look at you.” It disgusted Nervous to think of himself; the way his ribs were visible under his translucent, sallow skin, the way his ribcage flared. The numerous bruises and stitches, the scabs that would not heal because he picked at them. His monstrous autopsy scar. The proof of him being an abomination: the scythe-shaped birthmark under his left ear. Circe watched Nervous pick himself apart and gained satisfaction from it. She left the basement, leaving her specimen alone with his thoughts.

Chapter Text

The further along he progressed in pregnancy, the less sleep Pascal got. Tonight, it felt like Tycho was using his bladder as a cushion. As soon as Pascal was ready to sleep, he would have to pee again. But even when he was lying finally in the deep, dark silence of his room,  his last thoughts of Nervous Subject crumpled on the floor, suffering pulses of electric shocks, kept him from falling asleep.

Vidcund cleaned the coffee machine the best he could, but it had obviously seen better days. Brewing the coffee had been his responsibility ever since Lazlo had a spark of inspiration that caused him to add creamer to the water reservoir. Suddenly Vidcund felt someone watching him as he watched the coffee drip into the pot. He turned when he heard Circe knocking on the window, using her hand as a visor. Her voice was muffled by the glass, ‘We need to talk.’ 

Vidcund nearly tripped over his own feet to get the door while the coffee percolated. “Morning, Circe. Couldn’t wait to see me?” Circe walked past Vidcund and sat at the counter. Vidcund poured her a mug of coffee and dug around in the condiment drawer for a packet of sweet-n-low, remembering how she took her coffee when they dated. “Paz isn’t up?” Vidcund shook his head,  “According to the books we read, the baby is about the size of a pineapple now. It’s not easy for him to sleep anymore.” Circe flicked the pink packet before tearing it open and dumping the contents into her mug. “Oh well. I guess I’ll have to talk to you then.” Vidcund got a mug of coffee and turned to Circe, prompting her to continue. 

Circe’s eyes hardened. “Testing hasn’t gone as well as we hoped. The subject can’t revive anything larger than a cat,” She spoke gravely over her mug, “Loki and I have decided to terminate this project.” She flicked her eyes at Vidcund, expectantly, but was met with nothing. Vidcund slowly raised an eyebrow; he was completely lost. She explained the concept of grimborns and their ability to revive the recently deceased. Vidcund had as much luck wrapping his head around the information as Lazlo did. He nonchalantly adjusted his bangs. “How would one even go about having a child with Death?” Circe took a small sip of coffee, preparing herself to hold a lecture. “Several years ago, a grocery courier went missing. His last delivery was to Olive Muenda. We know her as Mrs. Specter.” Vidcund was following; he gave Circe a nod to continue. “From what I could gather, his body simply disappeared at the moment of death. Not only that, but it is as though he never existed. The only proof I have of him at all is through payroll records. His name was Knut Futa.”

Vidcund sat at the counter next to Circe, leaning into the conversation. “But people go missing in Strangetown all the time. What makes this case different?” Circe sighed in light frustration. “I was getting to that, Viddy. I don’t have any solid proof, but I believe that Knut Futa was used in a sacrificial ceremony so that Olive could conceive a child with Death. I’ve exhausted the topic of grimborns, and I have researched every surviving account of them. Grimborns are created through exchanging lives. Olive Specter did not kill Knut Futa; she made him unborn.” Circe saw Vidcund’s perturbed expression. “Okay, let me back up. Grimborns used to be considered shamans, healers, and spiritual leaders. Pockets of grimborn communities have existed around the globe. I found one account of the conception ritual being performed where grimborns attempted to revive the sacrificial offering. That person’s body came back, but their mind was wiped. The person behaved like a newborn, but no one could touch them. Life cannot be created through death. Death can only use what already exists. The conception ritual uses the soul of the sacrifice as the soul for the fetus.” 

A hush fell over the kitchen; Vidcund sat stunned, trying to absorb all that Circe told him. “So that guy you keep in your basement… He is basically just the delivery guy, then?” Circe thought for a moment and gave a half-hearted nod. “Try to think of it more like reincarnation. Nervous is a whole new person, except he is made with recycled parts.” Vidcund pictured the grimborn being made like something would be made out of existing material; the old was broken down, melted, and reshaped. The previous consciousness was wiped clean and given a new existence. Something was still unaccounted for. 

Vidcund pulled a variegated African violet closer to him. He gently pulled the spent blooms from the stem. “And you’re quitting the project because…?” Circe sipped her coffee. “Because one grimborn is not enough to revive anyone, and more than one would pose a serious risk to Loki and me. I’m sure you heard about the incident the other day.” Vidcund recalled the phone call and how Loki was shouting like a madman. “You’re letting the guy go? Paz has been beside himself ever since he saw him.” Circe paused and finished her coffee. She watched Vidcund groom his violet over the rim of her mug and smiled warmly. “I’ve always been impressed by your green thumb, Viddy. I can’t even grow cilantro.” Vidcund caught himself smiling back. “You should take a look out back. I have a graveyard of empty pots. I’m just lucky that I grow more plants than I kill.” Circe’s giggle pealed through the house, waking Pascal. Vidcund composed himself, all too familiar with the way Circe avoided answering questions. 

“Seriously, Circe. What are you gonna do with Nervous?” Circe darkened. She removed her glasses to clean them. “It’s too much of a liability to let him free.” She continued dryly,  “We’re going to send him to a nice farm in the Appaloosa Plains. He’ll spend all day running and playing with all sorts of animals.” Vidcund looked at Circe in disbelief. The meaning behind her words crept up into his chest; this was not the woman he loved. She was not the girl he grew up with. “Why- How? Circe, what happened to you?” Circe plucked a bloom from the African violet and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ve always been like this, Viddy. You’ve just been too in love to see it.” Circe stood up and kissed Vidcund on the cheek before leaving.

A series of opening and closing doors alerted Vidcund to the fact that Pascal was awake, and he was pissing for the umpteenth time today. Vidcund replaced his African violet in its original spot on the counter and washed Circe’s mug in the sink. Before long, he heard Pascal shuffling towards him. “I dreamt I heard Circe laughing.” Vidcund placed the mug on the drying rack. “You did.” Vidcund flipped the kettle on and turned around to see Pascal waiting for an explanation. Vidcund was dumbstruck while he looked at his heavily pregnant brother and thought about how Pascal made the well-being of a guy across town his responsibility. What could any of them do to help Nervous Subject? Any attempt to rescue him would likely put any of the brothers in harm's way. Not only that, but Pascal’s child would be in danger as well. Vidcund could tell Circe had made up her mind; the grimborn’s fate was sealed.

“She kissed me, Paz.” Vidcund held a hand to his cheek. “Circe came over and laughed at something I said, it wasn’t even funny, took one of my flowers, and kissed me!” Pascal kept his expression even. “I’ll never know how you can still have a crush on her, knowing that she has been abusing a man since childhood.” Vidcund stared at his feet, feeling guilty for omitting the details of Circe’s visit. The kettle beeped behind him, and he poured the water over an herbal teabag for Pascal. Pascal continued, “You know she is just using you, right? I’m starting to think that is the only reason she wanted you in the first place.” Vidcund thought back to one Fourth of July spent with Circe; they sat in the back of her dad’s car and shared their first kiss during a fireworks show. Back then, Circe was not evil. Vidcund did not feel used; he felt loved. “Loki made her this way, Paz. I bet he’s the reason they have that guy in the first place.” 

Pascal waited for his tea to cool, wishing he could drink coffee. He asked, “Did she say anything about Nervous?” Vidcund froze for a second before he began to empty the dishwasher. Pascal knew Vidcund did not want to answer; he was starting to grow impatient. “Vid, tell me what Circe said.” Vidcund sighed and made a conscious effort to act natural. “She explained what a grimborn was and their history. I did not know he could resurrect animals.” Pascal examined Vidcund’s expression and body language. He theorized that Vidcund was on edge because he had just learned of Nervous’s abilities. Pascal rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes glinting. “It’s astounding, but Nervous believes he is a harbinger of death because he is a grimborn. I don’t see it that way. Nervous can resurrect the dead. He brings life.”

Chapter Text

Today was a good day at 1 Tesla Court. The Beakers almost treated Nervous Subject like a person. Circe had already given him three candies today, all without using commands. Nervous was even permitted to come out of the basement; the Beakers normally only allowed this when he was successful in reviving something. Nervous was flummoxed because his most recent attempt at reviving a dog was a failure. He waited for something bad to happen. He wondered if the Beakers had a new punishment up their sleeves. Still, Nervous would not overlook their generosity; he had been given a hot meal. 

Nervous hoggishly ate the grilled cheese and tomato soup, not caring if it was drugged. He scratched around his shock collar. If only he could reach the itch under it. The Beakers had not given him a proper meal in years, preferring to feed the grimborn cold gruel instead.  Circe watched him eat, “Nervous, you know that I love you, don’t you? I may not have always shown it, but I do. I loved you, and I always wanted to see you do well.” Nervous could not help but twitch when he heard Circe’s words. All he had ever wanted in life was the love of a family. Circe sat across from him, anxiously playing with her wedding ring. Nervous could not gauge Circe’s intentions; her expression was unreadable. Something about the interaction made his stomach flip. “S’okay, Circe. I know you mean well. I love you too. You two are the closest thing I've got to a family. I promise to try harder in our next session.” Loki sulked away after watching the interaction at the base of the stairs, unable to bring himself to look at the grimborn.

Circe’s breathing became heavier. She gave a practiced sniffle, “I’m so sorry, Nervous. I’m sorry about what you are. I’m sorry you exist. I’m sorry you got put into foster care, and I’m sorry we found you. I’m sorry this has been your life.” Circe took her glasses off and rubbed her tearless eyes. Her voice trembled, “I never told you this, but all I can do about my guilt is drink.” Nervous had killed the good parts of himself long ago; he liked to think he was immune to seeing others hurt. Still, he never wanted to hurt Circe. Even though she was often the cause of Nervous’s ailments, she was always there to nurse him back to health. Nervous wanted to reach out, but he knew his cold skin was repulsive. “Please don’t cry, Circe. I’ll do my very best. I’ll bring the dog back next time, I promise.” 

This only made Circe double down in her display of grief. She got up and wrapped her arms around her captive. Her body shook through the sobs. Nervous hugged her back, careful to be gentle. Circe looked up at the grimborn, suddenly composed. “There won’t be a next time. We’re done with the project.” Nervous blinked and pulled away from the hug. “Done? What are we doing instead?” A lurch of metal echoed through the house. Nervous whipped his head around in time to see the last slivers of daylight disappear behind the retractable doors. Loki growled, “You’re going to go into the basement with us.” Nervous fearfully looked at Circe. Circe crossed her arms apologetically. “Please just listen to him, honey. You’ll be okay. It’s only until we get down into the basement. I’ll play your music while it happens.” Nervous stood up and cautiously walked backward into the cold barrel of a gun. Nervous’s blood froze. “While what happens?” Loki snarled, “Dammit, Circe, you should have been quiet, but you had to be maudlin.” 

Circe dabbed at her dry eyes with her sleeve before answering, “I want this to be easy for your sake. Please don’t fight us. I can make it so easy for you.” Nervous stared at Circe with wide, panicked eyes. “What’s going to happen to me?” 

Circe gently grabbed the grimborn by the hand. “I’ll explain it to you once we get down into the basement, son.” Nervous yanked his hand away. “I don’t wanna go into the basement.” Loki exhaled a frustrated sigh. “Boy, go in the basement while you’re still ahead.” Nervous’s teeth chattered in terror. “I knew something was up. You two were being too nice today. I am so fucking stupid for falling for it every time!” Nervous balled his hand into a fist and pounded against his skull, wishing he could break it.

“We’re going to put an end to this, Nervous.” Circe smiled warmly at him. The smile did not reach her dead eyes. “First, I’ll put you under. You’ll sleep peacefully. Then I’ll inject you with enough pentobarbital to kill a Clydesdale. You won’t feel a thing. You’ll go back to where you came from.” The grimborn began to sweat in alarm. “Wait!! You don’t have to kill me! I-I’m sure you can run more tests! At the very least, let me live here and do chores! I don’t wanna die!” Loki broke out in laughter. “You’re a fucking slob! Letting you clean would only make more work for us! Do you know how much money it costs us to have you living here? You have no skills, you can’t drive, and you can’t work. You are useless.” 

Nervous gasped in horror. He was useless. His only worth came from the fact that he was a grimborn. He was a novelty; he was a toy, and the Beakers were done playing with him. Nervous considered Loki’s words, and for a moment, he believed them. What could he possibly have to offer society? What could he offer anyone? Pascal’s face flashed in the grimborn’s mind. Nervous recalled how it felt when Pascal reacted to learning what he was with astonishment rather than fear. He recalled Pascal’s warmth, his concern, his friendship. For the first time in his life, Nervous felt hope. He had to live, not just for Pascal, but for Tycho too. For the first time in his life, Nervous did not want to die. “Please! Let me live with Pascal! You’ll never hear from me again! Please!” 

Circe shook her head, “You are too much of a liability. Even if you didn’t say anything, Paz would. The last thing I need for my career is people sniffing around. It will be easier if you simply disappear.” Nervous could feel Loki jab the gun once more into his back. In a blind panic, Nervous elbowed Loki in the gut, causing him to double over. His weapon slid across the kitchen tile. 

 Nervous scrambled to the top of the stairs. He clamped his mouth shut in order to stop chattering, but he was now grinding his teeth. Loki began to ascend the stairs with trepidation. Nervous was frozen in place. “That’s it, boy. Niice and easy… We’ll make sure you don’t feel a thing.” Loki moved slowly, pursuing his prey. Nervous felt his stomach drop as Loki approached, holding the gun out in front of him. Nervous Subject looked to the sealed arches; he could not run. Driven by pure instinct, he extended a leg, making quick contact with Loki’s face. Nervous heard a crunch as Loki’s nose crumpled under his sandal, sending him down the stairs with blood streaming down his face. 

Having bought himself precious time, Nervous retreated, without a destination in mind. “Fucking SHIT!” Loki beat a fist against the floor as Circe flanked him after getting tampons from the bathroom. She pulled his nose back into place and carefully inserted a tampon into the bleeding nostril. “We should have just gotten his ass while he was sleeping! That ungrateful bastard!” Circe smoothed Loki’s pompadour back. “It was going well until you showed up with the gun, sweetheart.” Loki released the safety on his weapon. It would take more than intimidation to get the grimborn’s cooperation. “Whatever, let’s get the son of a bitch and be done with it.” Circe offered her husband a hand to help him get up, but he pushed her away brusquely. She returned the energy by stepping on his hand, “Sorry, babe! It was an accident.”

Loki and Circe did not split up on the second floor; doing so would be suicide when faced with a grimborn. They walked foot to foot, creating a wall. Circe placed her thumb and forefinger in her mouth, whistling enthusiastically. “Here, boy! Here boy! Come get your candy! I know you’re craving one by now. Be a good boy and I’ll let you have the whole bag.” Nervous was crouched behind the couch, covering his mouth with both hands, when he heard Circe. His body shook uncontrollably. He was fucked. Circe lilted, “Nervous, it can still be a good day. I’ll still play your music. You want ice cream, honey?” Circe opened the door to the bathroom carefully and was greeted by only a bathtub and a toilet. The test subject was nowhere to be seen.

“Come on out, you little shit!” Loki raised the firearm as he turned the corner into the den. He spied the conspicuous mohawk of his lab rat; the sight of Nervous trying to hide his large frame behind the loveseat. Loki spat in disgust, and a strand of graying blond hair fell onto his forehead. “I knew I smelled garbage in here.” Loki fired a shot into the room, lodging a bullet into the mantel. Circe hissed as she covered her ears, “Careful, Loki! The bullet holes are going to look so tacky!” Loki ignored his wife’s sharp tone as he watched Nervous scurry into the bedroom. He fired off another shot, gouging the arch to the small hallway.

 Circe dug her nails into the palm of her hand, doing her best to stay composed. “Try not to damage my house, dear.” Loki rolled his eyes and turned to look at his petite wife, “Funny. I don’t remember you being so annoyed with… that thing when he was tearing our house apart. You gave him what he wanted, even!” Circe sputtered, slapping her hands against her thighs while giving her husband a look of disbelief. “You think he was going to stop if I threatened him? You must have brain damage from getting your skull cracked.” True to her Greek heritage, Circe gesticulated to accentuate her point. 

Nervous used this opportunity to push the wardrobe in front of the archway, partially barricading himself in the bedroom. His body surged with adrenaline. With what time he had, he attempted to pry open the metal door covering the nearest exit, but stopped when his nails lifted from their beds. As blood ran down his fingers, he braced his body against the bathroom door, readying himself for the next onslaught. 

Circe continued playing good cop, “It’s normal to be afraid, Nervous, but we all gotta go sometime.” Loki and Circe stalked into the bathroom after hearing the scraping of the wardrobe feet against the carpet, tipping them off that Nervous used it to barricade himself in the bedroom. Circe and Loki got up against the door, making eye contact before nodding in agreement. Loki turned the doorknob, unable to open the door. Nervous choked. “We wanted to do this the easy way, son. But you insist on being difficult. I can’t wait to put you down like the insect you are.” Loki tried the door again, pressing with all his weight while turning the knob. It was no use. “Forgive me, babe.” He stood back and emptied two rounds into it. Circe was calculating the cost of the damage, seeing red in the process. 

Nervous darted from the door, letting the Beakers into the room. The grimborn was cornered, knocking the ficus over so he could press his body against the wall. Loki pushed the hair from his face, “This ends now, you- you abomination!” Nervous searched the room with his eyes, desperate for a solution. No one was coming to save him. He had to save himself. Nervous darted for the wardrobe, Loki in close pursuit. The grimborn used a frantic surge of strength to push the furniture over. Loki stepped to the side just in time to avoid being pinned under it. 

Nervous vaulted over the tipped wardrobe. Loki fired his last two shots. One bit firmly into Nervous’s upper arm. The other ricocheted from the stone wall, grazing Loki’s thigh.

He ran toward the den in search of a new hiding place. He didn’t know how much longer he or the Beakers could keep this up. His bullet wound lit up with pain. His blood trickled to the floor.  

“I’m going to make that freak pay.” Loki was out of bullets. Circe tore a shirt into rags to bandage her husband’s thigh. She chided, “This is all because you showed up with the gun. You spooked him.” Minutes passed before the Beakers were on the move again. Rubies of blood dotted the floor, leaving clues to their specimen’s location. Circe called to him, “Nervous, honey. Let me take that nasty bullet out of you and patch you up.” Loki groaned, “Stop coddling that asshole!” Circe snapped, “Blood is all over the floor because of you!” Nervous was in the octagonal bathroom just off the guest room, listening to the faint sound of the Beakers bickering while he clutched his wounded arm and attempted to steady his breath.

The Beakers were almost at their destination. Circe used her penlight to illuminate the drops of blood on the tile. Loki heard the grimborn’s stifled cries. He whispered to his wife, “This is it, Circe.” Nervous could not see through his tears. He wanted to live. He wanted his mom. He wanted to see Pascal. He wanted to meet Tycho. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted to be anything but a cornered lab rat. Loki pressed the button on the remote and turned up the dial for the collar, increasing the amps. Nervous felt his body tense with great heat. He felt pinpricks all over. He felt the skin on his neck crack and blister. He could not move. His screams fell on the ears of those who never cared about him. “I’m finishing it here, Circe. That way, we don’t have to listen to that dog shit he likes.” Loki turned the dial up as far as it would go. The neckline of Nervous’s shirt caught fire. He could not move to extinguish it. He lost consciousness on the cold floor of the bathroom. 

“God, I hate touching him, but at least he is warm now.” Circe crouched beside the twisted shell of Nervous Subject, heated from the electrical currents. She held a hand under his nose and did not feel his breath. She checked his mouth and found the same. “He’s dead, Jim.” She looked up at Loki and grinned. He did not get the reference. Circe knew Vidcund would have gotten it; maybe he would have laughed if the circumstances were not so gruesome. “We’re going to dump him in the foothills. By the time he’s found, people will think he was an unprepared hiker.” Circe motioned for the key, and Loki handed it to her. She removed the shock collar, and some burnt skin came off with it. She gagged when some touched her finger. “This is vile! How can you stand there and let your darling wife do the dirty work?” She flung the collar at Loki, hitting his face. Some charred grimborn skin got in his mouth, causing him to sputter and wretch. 

Concealed by the dusky light of the September evening, the Beakers carried the corpse of Nervous Subject from the trunk of the beamer. They carefully laid his body off the hiking trail, concealed by an overhang and dry shrubs. “I think I’ll miss him, kind of. The house will be so empty now.” Circe shook her head as she thought about life after the son of Death. “Well, dear.” Loki approached Circe from behind and squeezed her butt before wrapping his arms around her waist. “We can always fill the household.” Circe melted into Loki’s embrace, pulling him down for a kiss. “You’d be better off cloning yourself, babe.” The lovers retreated into their luxury sedan, flirting like teens. A solitary owl perched on a pinnacle watched the scene unfold. He waited for the taillights of the Beaker’s car to disappear before silently swooping down to the grimborn. The owl shifted shape, taking on the form of the Grim Reaper.

Chapter Text

♢♢♢

Pascal opened his eyes. The familiar blue mosaic tile surrounding him let him know that he was at the bottom of Jenny’s pool. Sunlight danced on the water's surface and filtered down below. He held out his arm and observed the veins of reflected sunlight crisscross on his skin. “Pascal.” A familiar voice caused him to turn around. Kitty was sitting at a table with a full seafood brunch. Her golden hair was softly floating around her head, halo-like. She waved her son over, surrounded by animals in peaceful slumber. Pascal sat down, trying to figure out why they were at the bottom of Jenny’s pool and how nothing behaved the way it should in water. Kitty immediately recognized her son’s perplexed expression. “Don’t ask me. This is your dream.” Kitty poured a mimosa into a champagne flute for Pascal and set it in front of him. Pascal pushed the flute back. “Mom, I’m pregnant.” Kitty clasped her hands and grinned a pearly smile. “I know! How exciting! But you can have a mimosa, it’s just a dream.” 

She used her fork to take some smoked salmon from a lox platter, and then used her fork to gesticulate. She leaned in and spoke with a slightly muted voice. “Honestly, Pascal, out of all my children, I never imagined you’d be the single parent. I always thought some poor girl would drop Lazlo’s baby off on the doorstep.” Pascal did not touch his drink or anything on the table. He looked at the pile of napping chickens on the ground; hens and roosters trilled contentedly. He watched as his mom pulled a shrimp cocktail closer. “Why are all these animals here?” Kitty stroked a small white chihuahua in her lap. “This is my posse. I kept them waiting. Pascal, meet Rigby and the gang.” Pascal felt a cat rub up against his leg. Kitty offered the cat a piece of seared ahi. The accepted the treat and shook her head, as if the morsel was a fresh kill. Kitty’s focus was back on her son. “I knew my pets would love you, Paz. Everyone does.”

Pascal felt compelled to make a confession. The refracted light on Kitty made her appear ethereal. She looked just how he remembered her; Kitty looked like the woman who would kiss his bruises and clean his scraped elbows. “Mom, since you died, I haven’t been the best brother.” Kitty reached for Pascal’s hand across the table. “Pascal, since I died, I haven’t been the best mother.” Pascal was unmoved by the joke; he gave his mother a deadpan stare. Kitty soothingly stroked the back of Pascal’s hand with her thumb. “It’s okay, Pascal. I know all about it. You never have to be the best brother, just a good one.” Pascal did not know how to reply to that. He strove to be the best at everything he was; he was heartbroken when he got a B-plus on his final astrophysics exam at LFT. Being ‘good’ was not good enough for him. “Pascal.” Kitty drummed her red nails against the table. “You’re about to be a father. You can’t expect perfection from yourself anymore. You’ll get burnt out like that.” Kitty snapped her fingers for emphasis. 

Pascal knew that it was unreasonable for anyone to strive for perfection. He would advise people against it. However, he personally felt that he had to be perfect. He was the exception to the rule. Kitty pulled a mug of coffee out of nowhere and placed it in front of her son. “I know that you know a little bit of caffeine is safe during pregnancy. Here you go, making unreasonable rules for yourself again.” Pascal was glad to have the coffee; he missed it. It was the perfect cup in every way; the perfect balance of warmth, bitter, and sweet. “You always reminded me of one of those aliens from that show you and your brothers watched. You know, the kind with the pointy ears? Leonard Nimoy played one.” Pascal killed his mug of coffee before answering. “I reminded you of a Vulcan?” Kitty nodded. “You were always trying to hide your emotions and pretend like you didn’t have any.” Pascal could not help but laugh softly. “You should see me now. I cry so easily, and I get pissed off like never before. I’m not myself, and it’s embarrassing.” 

Kitty pulled a plate of calamari in front of her and squeezed lemon on it. “It’s so important that you just ride those waves of emotion when you get them. Remember that they are a part of you, but you are not them. Let yourself feel, but don’t let yourself be consumed.” Kitty grabbed a fried baby squid and dipped it in cocktail sauce before eating it. Kitty wiped her hands with a napkin. “I was told not to say anything, but fuck it, you're my son. I know you’re going through a lot of pain right now, and it will only get worse before it gets better.” Pascal felt anxious; he never expected his mom to say something that would alarm him. “What do you mean by worse? Is it Tycho? Do I need to go to the hospital?” Kitty grabbed Pascal’s hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to go to the hospital. There is nothing wrong with Tycho. You’re just going to be put through the emotional wringer, and I wish I could stop it because I love you.” Apprehension built a home in Pascal’s heart. He had already been so emotional throughout his whole pregnancy journey; what else could be waiting for him around the corner? He could have asked his mother to clarify, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. He already had his own idea of what she meant by that. “I love you, too.” Kitty pushed the plate closer to Pascal. “Have some calamari. You never find it like this in Strangetown.”

♢♢♢

That dream from last night was weighing heavily on Pascal’s mind. So too was Nervous Subject. “Come on, pick up…” Pascal never imagined himself calling the Beakers and wishing they would answer. Pascal finally heard Loki’s voice. “This is Doctor Loki Beaker-” Pascal blurted out, “Loki! Put Nervous on!” “-You have reached my answering machine; Leave a message and I may call you back.” Pascal groaned and returned the phone to its base. 

“Paz, sit down.” Jenny placed her hand on his shoulder and tried leading him back to the panda chair. He was trying to keep himself together. “Leave me alone, Jen.” He made his way to his computer and opened his instant messenger. Nervous was last on the computer a week ago. The Beakers restored his privileges after Pascal’s visit. 

CuriousPaz1972: [Nerv, buddy. I’m so worried about you.]

CuriousPaz1972: [Please be okay.]

CuriousPaz1972: [I need you.]

Pascal sighed, resigned to the fact that he would not get a reply. Around him, the house bustled with sound and activity; Lazlo and Vidcund were playing Tekken 5, Jenny was on the phone with Paul, and the second television was playing some cheesy horror film. The collective din was making it impossible for Pascal to calm himself. He had to get out of there. 

He went outside and looked up at the cosmos, wondering where Nervous Subject was. For the first time in his life, Pascal Curious felt like praying. “Dude, you gotta chill out and get off your feet. Jenny is having a cow.” Pascal remained fixed, pretending not to hear Lazlo. Lazlo approached. “Come inside, Paz.” The eldest Curious brother turned to the youngest, wearing a blank expression. “You all have been treating me like I’m some sort of feeble grandma for my entire pregnancy.” Lazlo stopped in his tracks, looking at Pascal in shock. “That’s not true! It’s just, you know. Your body wasn’t built for pregnancy, and like, you need to take it easy.” Pascal adjusted his glasses. “If my body wasn’t made for pregnancy, then I wouldn’t be pregnant. I’m fine. I would appreciate it if you all left me alone for a while so I can think.” 

Pascal went back to stargazing. Last time he had done so, it was with Nervous, and they were lucky enough to spot a shooting star. But so far, the heavens were stationary. Still, he kept looking.  Lazlo gave him space, but could not leave Pascal alone. “It’s about that guy, huh?” Pascal could not reply.  Lazlo gave him space, but could not leave Pascal alone.  “Paz, he’s probably fine, but if he isn’t-” Pascal looked at Lazlo, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence. “... You gotta move on.” 

Pascal was thankful that the third trimester allowed him to handle his emotions better than the first two, but he still felt his throat tighten when Lazlo spoke. How could he move on? How could anyone possibly be okay with what the Beakers were doing? Pascal’s voice was hoarse and thick with emotion. “I don’t have to do anything. I just want him to be okay.” Lazlo kicked at the sand on the walkway. “Dude, like I didn’t wanna say anything because I know it’s a tough time for you, but you’re about to have a kid. You don’t need to pile more stress on yourself like this. This town is fucked up, and fucked up things happen here. No one can do anything about it.” 

Pascal sighed and took a silent moment to collect himself. Why did it feel like he was the only one who cared? “Lazlo, it’s just- Look, he is my only friend and I’ve known him for a long time now. He was always there for me, and I need to be there for him.” Lazlo looked at Pascal with a heavy heart. “I know, man. It’s just that we can’t help him right now, and you know that. He’s probably okay. I mean, I don’t think the Beakers would kill him since he is a rare hybrid. But you know, just be prepared.” Pascal decided he was done talking and went back to looking for that star. Lazlo started for the house before looking at Pascal. “I’ll tell Jenny you need a moment to yourself.” 

“He’s worrying himself to death over that guy, huh?” Jenny leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, observing Pascal. “He’s so stubborn. It reminds me of mom.” Lazlo dug around in the fridge, hoping to find something worth eating. “You’d think he’d be worried about childbirth. Then again, maybe worrying about this guy keeps his mind off of it.” Lazlo found a string cheese. “Maybe you can talk to him, Vid. You’ve been flying under the radar lately.” Vidcund blanched; he could not bring himself to look at either of his siblings. “Me? No. There’s nothing I could say to him.” Vidcund had no way of knowing for sure, but he had a hunch that Nervous Subject was already dead. 

Lately, he was careful to make sure that no one was watching the news, just in case they aired a story about an unnamed decedent being found in the desert. Jenny shook her head. “No Vid, maybe you’ll be the one to talk some sense into it. It’s worth a try.” Vidcund felt hot. He took his sport coat off and rolled up his sleeves. “It’s not a good idea, Jen. I don’t have a way with words. I’ll say something stupid. I’ll probably fight with him.” Lazlo was biting into the string cheese instead of pulling it apart. He smacked his lips, “Go out there and say something, dude.” Powered by his misophonia, Vidcund made his way outside. 

“Are you just looking, or are you looking for something?” Vidcund stood beside Pascal, scanning the skies with his brother. Pascal kept his eyes on the heavens. “I’m looking for a shooting star.” “I never knew you to be superstitious, Paz.” Pascal gave a loaded sigh. “I’m not, really. It’s just when Nervous and I stargazed a few months ago, we saw a shooting star and wished on it. I know it doesn’t do anything, but it couldn’t hurt.” Guilt consumed Vidcund. He hated himself for how much he was hurting Pascal. “Paz,” Vidcund started before his voice died in his throat. Pascal could not take his eyes off the sky. “Hm?” Vidcund could only look at the ground now. “Oh, it’s nothing…” Pascal’s patience was wearing thin. “Either tell me or leave me alone.” Vidcund closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He chickened out at the last moment. “You need to be prepared for the very real possibility that Nervous is dead. You have to be ready for all outcomes.” 

Pascal froze, feeling like he’d been struck in the gut. He turned and looked at Vidcund with betrayed blue eyes. “What do you know?” Vidcund steeled himself. “I know you’re going to have this kid any day now, and you’re in no condition for a rescue mission. I know that guy looked like shit when I saw him, and Lazlo said he looked the same when he went with you. You can’t always be the hero, Pascal. You can’t save everyone.” Pascal stared at Vidcund defiantly as tears streamed down his face. “How come no one else gives a shit? What’s happening to Nervous could happen to anyone. Today, it’s him. Tomorrow, it could be a sanitation worker or one of us. I hate finding out just how callous you all are.” Vidcund could not reply. He went back inside with his tail between his legs.

Chapter Text

Coyotes caterwauled in the distance, sounding like a rowdy bunch of drunks. Nervous’s desiccated remains lay under the overhang, partially bathed in pale moonlight. His consciousness was beyond the veil; in another dimension. He was in a space bathed with light and cloaked in gossamer curtains that billowed up around him. The end was not the end. Nervous was not met by the vast black nothingness he had often hoped for as the Beakers exacted their brutality.

Instead of the darkness he’d been expecting, Nervous Subject came face to face with… himself? Sort of, anyway. This Nervous’ features were slightly off in a way that the newly-dead grimborn found unsettling. It was almost like looking at a melted wax model of himself. “The fuck?” Nervous was standing face to face with himself, or rather, a version of himself.

The features of this Nervous were warped, slightly off. His eyes were beady: too small for his face. Nervous Prime recoiled, “Ew! Do I really look like that?” The not-quite spitting image of him hunched into himself, hurt by the former’s reaction.

Nervous nearly felt sorry; it was not as if he was the epitome of beauty. “Uh, sorry, man… I mean, why do you look like that?” The other Nervous crossed his arms as he tilted his head back and glowered, “Just because we’re technically the same guy doesn’t mean we all look the same. We didn’t all get your face model, alright?”

This other, uglier Nervous sighed with annoyance. “Relax, the hard part’s over now.” He extended his hand to Nervous, who really did not want to touch it. “C’mon, the others are waiting.” Nervous Prime did not take the hand of the familiar stranger. He eyed himself with distrust instead.

“There’s more of you… I mean, me? Are they all ugly, too?” Ugly Nervous hissed angrily and withdrew his hand, stuffing it into his pocket. “Fuck it! I tried! Have fun finding your own way, asshole.”

The recently deceased grimborn scrambled to his feet, “W-wait! Don’t leave me here. I’m sorry, okay?” His counterpart turned around and provided grace to Nervous.

Nervous gestured to the wide open nothing, “Is this heaven?” Ugly Nervous made a puzzled expression. “Um…I guess? Kinda? The old man explains it better than I do.” Nervous followed his other self across a peaceful, empty eternity until he was surrounded by a sea of more uncomfortably familiar faces, as though he were looking at an infinity mirror. An endless loop of Nervous Subjects, all tracking him with varying degrees of regret in their eyes.

Ugly Nervous gestured towards him, displaying the newcomer to the crowd. Two Nervouses separated themselves from the crowd and approached Nervous Prime; one was an elder version of the ugly Nervous, and the other Nervous’s mohawk was dyed to resemble flames. The principal Nervous took a step back, not taking his eyes off his dopplegangers. He choked, “What the hell is going on?”

The flame-hawked grimborn clucked and shook his head. His dull eyes almost glinted with amusement; his expression was otherwise blank. “The Beakers killed you. That’s it. Game over.” Nervous Subject scoffed, “I know, genius. I mean, why are there so many of you? So many of me?”

The elder, ugly Nervous spoke with authority, “This is where we, the grimborns, gather after death.” Nervous was met with an endless sea of his own reflection. This was not what he was told; Nervous played with the hem of his shirt before asking. “What about the rest of the grimborns? Why is it just me? Circe said something about pockets of shamans and-”

The oldest Nervous stopped that thought in its tracks, “Reality is more complicated than that. The truth has been safely concealed in mythology.” He looked at the principal Nervous, and saw that the young man was having difficulty following his words. Elder Ugly Nervous selected his next words carefully, thinking of how best to get his point across, “In life, we tend to see things as more complicated than they are. We create stories to fill in the gaps. On the other side of things, we realize the world isn’t as in-depth as we thought.”

Nervous chewed his thumbnail in thought. He did not make eye contact as he asked, “Okay, but why are we all here? Is this hell or something?” “We will bear witness to the ocean of pink that consumes worlds, and we will watch as the big, fiery ball visible from space cleanses the earth of its corruption.” The gray-haired grimborn held his hands out as he looked up, “Watcher will renew the world. They will eradicate the diseased landscape and start again, as they have done so many times before.”

Nervous Subject listened and allowed the words to permeate him. “Hold on! You said Watcher would eradicate the world?!” The flame-haired grimborn spat his words, “That wasn’t the world. That was your world. It didn't matter.” Nervous shook his head furiously, refusing to believe what he was hearing. He was a drop in a pool of endless Nervous Subjects, from endless realities, clinging to the notion that anything he went through was important in any way. He pleaded, “No. No! That’s not true! Everything I went through— The suffering, the loneliness… I was there! It ruined my life!”

The flame-hawked Nervous rolled his eyes, “It’s in our code to suffer. A few of us Nervs got lucky, but for the most part, we all bit the dust in some fucked up way. You aren’t special. Get over yourself, man.” Ugly Nervous held a hand up to flame-haired Nervous, “Hey, don’t be a dick. This is all new to him. Remember how you felt when you came here?  This Nervous just needs a little time to adjust to being dea-” Nervous Prime grabbed ugly Nervous by the collar of his shirt, “No! I have to get back! I have a life down there! Pascal, he-” A hush fell over the gathering of grimborns. All eyes were on the principal Nervous Subject. “Again, you aren’t special,” The Nervous with the flamehawk did his best not to sound like he was getting choked up. “The majority of us were close to our Pascals. You think you get to go back just because you miss him? Trust me, we all miss him.”

Nervous did not relent. His words spilled out quickly, “No! I’m going back! I wasn’t done living! People are waiting for me! What about Tycho-” Older Ugly Nervous placed a hand on his counterpart’s shoulder. “Time moves slowly here. A half hour here is over a day in your world. Pascal will move on in time, and Tycho will likely be okay, too. You have to move on as well.”

Nervous Prime covered his ears and closed his eyes. He nearly doubled over, “No! Shut up! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’m going back! I have to!” Older Ugly Nervous looked on himself with pity. He thought about how Nervous Subjects seemed to exist just to experience tragedy, as if they were the laughing stocks of the universe. 

He spoke against his better judgment, “It’s possible you can return. Maybe someone will find a genie and wish for you. They could maybe call our dad on the Resurrect-o-Nomitron, and you could come back that way. Or.. Never mind.”

The principal Nervous looked up hopefully, “Or what?” The flamehawk Nervous interjected, “Forget it. It’s too risky.” Older Ugly Nervous spoke, “Well, if we remove your death token, you would return. But like he said,” he gestured to the red-haired grimborn, “It’s risky. It could corrupt your world.” Nervous Subject wrung his hands, “But maybe it won’t. I have to go back. I have to. Please.” The ugly Nervouses, younger and older, looked to each other. The older one replied, “Okay, we can get started.”