#over some injustices that were probably mild and that I can only vaguely remember!

[icypiece]

Here’s hoping Morocco win tomorrow, so that they can win the whole thing, and that Croatia can get semi-avenged by winning the bronze over France, at least.

[caseyah]

.flow

I just finished playing through .flow, so I think I’ll try to give my full thoughts and interpretations on a lot of I found and experienced in the game (in the form of a series of points, because my thoughts are scattered even at the best of times).

for now I will be just be tackling characters roughly in order of how relevant I believe them to be to Sabitsuki’s life and experiences, while I will talk about Sabitsuki (and, by extension, Rust) at a later time.

CHARACTERS: 

Black-Haired Girl / Onigo: Sabitsuki’s life began with a death. Specifically, the death of her mother. Onigo represents the very few things Sabitsuki both remembers about her mother (her distinctive long black hair and blue dress) and what she was told by the hospital staff (the fact that she died giving birth to Sabitsuki). The reason why she dies so often in the game itself (childbirth event, every time you encounter her as Rust) is because thats all Sabitsuki can relate her with. Sabitsuki also likely feels guilt in relation to "causing” her mother’s death, as she manifests the idea in the form of the incredibly visceral Childbirth Event. 

Oreko: Sabitsuki’s childhood friend, another child who either “lived” in the hospital like Sabitsuki or simply another kid who met Sabitsuki during a time she was in the hospital. Oreko would grow interested in technology and machines as she grew older, eventually becoming something of a mechanic/scientist (though Sabitsuki likely never exactly understood what Oreko’s machines were, which is probably was she internalized them as looking quite bizarre and scary). She also likely had a very big interest in the seas, explaining why she wears the divers helmet and why Sabitsuki associates her with the ocean. Oreko was Sabitsuki’s only companion in any sense throughout the majority of her life, someone who was there for Sabitsuki no matter how much abuse Sabi sustained from society or no matter how bad Sabi’s illness got. Unfortunately, Oreko’s life would eventually be cut short. Sabitsuki most likely never figured out how her best friend perished and was likely in denial about it for some time before making peace with it (Finding Oreko’s ghost requires interacting with her “alive” self a decent amount, and the area her specter is found in is relatively calm compared to most other areas containing significant characters). Oreko’s final appearance to Rust in deadhole could be the last remaining shred of “normal” Sabitsuki having one last memory of her best friend, before she disappears and only Rust remains.

School Girl/Kaibutsu Sabitsuki: Sabitsuki’s manifestation of what she once was/fears she could become again, the one who was harmed by and later took revenge on Smile and the one Sabitsuki is always running from to some extent. School was likely a very, very bad time for Sabitsuki on a personal level, possibly due to Oreko’s death (though there isn’t anything that really indicates when Oreko’s death happened in relation to Sabitsuki’s life so it could be for any currently unknown reason). Kaibutsu Sabitsuki is what Sabitsuki remembers herself as during that time: a violent monster who hurt the only person Sabitsuki was even remotely close to at the time.

Smile: Though Smile is obviously a very significant person in Sabitsuki’s life, exactly what their relationship was and Smile’s history in general is very vague. His appearance in Disposal is likely a representation of his first meeting with Sabitsuki, as he isn’t wearing his usual outfit and lacks his tattoos (their appearance while as Rust may just be because Rust always sees Smile as his “true” self) and seems to react to Sabitsuki’s presence with mild confusion more then anything else. They later met properly during school, where by this point Smile had gained his tattoos and they obviously had formed a relationship of some sort (whether it was just an acquaintanceship, a friendship, or something more significant isn’t exactly clear but Smile was at least comfortable enough around Sabitsuki to have her visit his house and meet his sister). Unfortunately, their ambiguous relationship didn’t last. Sabitsuki’s corrupted school event shows what I believe is likely the end of their relationship and the last time they ever interacted with eachother. For one reason or another, and I suspect the cause was likely Sabitsuki herself, Smile attacked Sabi in the basement of the school. On a personal level, Sabitsuki likely viewed this as an injustice against herself (even if Smile was likely only doing what had to be done) which is why Rust later imagines herself getting revenge against the boy.

The Cleaners: The Cleaners are people who “clean up” (i.e. kill) those with the illness Sabitsuki suffers from. At some point in the past, they massacred the residents of the hospital Sabitsuki was staying in (as seen in 0.16) but left her alive for whatever reason, taking her away to live an actual life beyond the hospital walls. Why they spared Sabitsuki specifically isn’t something I can explain really, but its possible she was simply much less far along in her illness compared to the others and had the potential to be “saved”. Sabitsuki likely doesn’t view the Cleaners as a threat or “enemies” as it were and rather seems fairly neutral about them despite understanding what they do on some level (as seen by obtaining the limbless effect from one’s chainsaw). The Cleaners also had a second purpose asides from their main directive: working at the Sugar Hole (or whatever its “real” equivalent may be). Given Sabitsuki’s fondness of the place (it being one of very few areas in .flow that aren’t directly threatening or foreboding in some way), its possible The Cleaners brought her to the Sugar Hole shortly after leaving the Hospital with Sabi.

The Girl In The Yellow Dress: Buried far in Sabitsuki’s subconscious are the few memories focused on a mysterious girl known only for her faded, dirty yellow dress. Though not strictly always buried far beneath (being seen in Deterioration very easily while smoking in the hall) and never reacting to Sabi’s presence, she is clearly someone Sabitsuki lost tragically and has done her best to bury all the remaining memories of. So, who is this girl? Though my theory is abit shakier thanks to just how vague a character she is, I believe the Yellow Dress Girl to have been a sex worker who briefly acted as Sabitsuki’s caretaker before she somehow met her end. Maybe through knowing the Cleaners somehow or just being in the right place at the right time, this girl ended up as the guardian to a young Sabitsuki. Working as a prostitute (either already her job or something she took up to support Sabitsuki), the young Sabitsuki grew to genuinely appreciate this girl as a motherly figure and they briefly shared a legitimately nice life together (as seen in the “sugar float days” event). However, it didn’t last, and thanks to the darker side of her job creeping up and taking over her life, the Yellow Dress Girl ended up separated from Sabitsuki and possibly even dead. Sabitsuki, unable to properly deal with the trauma of losing someone who did so much for her and she held so dearly, repressed the memories of her and pushed the Yellow Dress Girl into the furthest points of her mind, where memories of the good times were fleeting and brief while memories of the end lingered unchanging.

Little Sabitsuki: Little Sabitsuki is fairly self-explanatory: she represents how Sabitsuki remembers herself as a child, either weak and bedridden (hospital), or lost and forgotten (snow world). Little Sabi’s condition worsening as regular Sabitsuki’s does could represent just how sick Sabi truly believes she is, unable to see even her past self as anything but diseased and broken. Sabitsuki never got to experience a “proper” childhood, she has no memories beyond the hospital, the overgrown halls, and the cold.

The Inner Demon: Underneath it all, this is how Sabitsuki truly sees herself. A bloody, diseased demon who exists only to cause suffering to both the world and people around her, aswell as her self. A manifestation of all of Sabitsuki’s sins and wrongdoings in the form of a dark mirror, buried so far deep within Sabitsuki’s subconscious the idea of confronting it leads Sabi to vomit her own blood in anxiety and terror. Only once Sabitsuki sheds her sense of self and becomes Rust can she properly confront her demon. The years and years of self-loathing building up from her birth, to her disease, to the loss of her friends, to the loss of control, to the loss of her self, leads Rust to perform a metaphorical suicide as she beats the demon to death as the final action taken in her own subconscious.

Kaibutsu: What Sabitsuki fears she will become should her illness completely take over. They take the form of grown-up versions of her fellow children at the hospital, possibly meaning that she believes all of them would be doomed to become a Kaibutsu, or perhaps that she saw multiple children become Kaibutsu at the hospital.

Fetuses: Sabitsuki’s physical manifestation of her illness, only appearing by the time Rust takes over (as while Sabitsuki rejects and is terrified of the illness, Rust embraces it).

Takibi-san: A homeless girl Sabitsuki spent a small amount of time around after leaving the hospital. Sabi mostly remembers her thanks to Takibi’s distinctive pink hair, a very uncommon trait in .flow’s world.

While this is all for now, I do plan to do a similar analysis for Sabitsuki and Rust. If that goes well enough and I still feel up to it afterwards, I will do another two analysises for the maps and the effects.

[nicostolemybones]

I swear by Apollo the physician, and Asclepius, and Hygieia and Panacea and all the gods and goddesses as my witnesses, that, according to my ability and judgement, I will keep this Oath and this contract:

Tw: implied/referenced end of life decisions, abortion, abuse, mild violence, death, and infidelity between unnamed campers, (none of the above happen to Nico or Will), breaching of ethical guidelines

I swear by Apollo the physician, and Asclepius, and Hygieia and Panacea and all the gods and goddesses as my witnesses, that, according to my ability and judgement, I will keep this Oath and this contract:

Will remembered the first time he boldly recited those words. They played over and over in his head now, as they always did. An Oath to the gods he'd taken. He wished he never had.

-

"GET FUCKED!"

"Will-" Will flipped Chiron off, livid- it wasn't even Chiron's fault, really. It was entirely Will's fault. Because he point blank refused to spend five more minutes with a bunch of horrible children questioning him every five minutes. Will was a patient person, he really was- or- well, he wasn't, not at all, but he was good at pretending to be. 

And here Will was, being chastised for swearing at a bunch of his students- if you could call his father's spawn students, that is. They spent the whole class being insufferably loud, and Will? Yeah, he'd lost his patience. He refused to do anything Chiron asked him to- he was simply at the end of his tether by now. Chiron was trying to mother him, but Will wasn't happy with that. Chiron wasn't his parent. Chiron had no right to even act like they were friends. Will had no choice in being at camp- and it wouldn't have been his choice- and nobody could compare to his mama, and certainly nobody could make him teach anything because he was really fucking stressed and done with life.

Vaguely, he remembered his oath.

To hold him who taught me this art equally dear to me as my parents, to be a partner in life with him, and to fulfill his needs when required; to look upon his offspring as equals to my own siblings, and to teach them this art, if they shall wish to learn it, without fee or contract; and that by the set rules, lectures, and every other mode of instruction, I will impart a knowledge of the art to my own sons, and those of my teachers, and to students bound by this contract and having sworn this Oath to the law of medicine, but to no others.

He tossed it aside.

-

"Anyway," Will began, "diets are bullshit. Just like. Don't eat sand or something, you're fine," Will shrugged, feet on his desk as he sat munching his breakfast- a large greasy burger. "We're all gonna die before the food kills us anyway."

I will use those dietary regimens which will benefit my patients according to my greatest ability and judgement, and I will do no harm or injustice to them.

Will rolled his eyes internally- he was sick of telling people to eat some salad like some joyless fitness freak. So what if his patient wasn't technically supposed to have dairy- it wouldn't kill the kid, so if the kid wanted to continue to torture his digestive tract with ice cream, who was Will to stop him, really? It wouldn't kill him, and Will really did not care to hear about explosive digestive tracts whilst eating his breakfast burger.

-

I will not give a lethal drug to anyone if I am asked, nor will I advise such a plan; 

There was no hope for the patient laying in front of him. The damage to his brainstem caused by the tumour was so severe that he had no hope of survival- the damage was irreparable. His heart was failing, he couldn't breathe by himself, and they didn't have life support machines. There was nothing that Will could do besides watch the boy die naturally within the next few minutes. He was suffering, so Will gave a final dose of morphine, so he could die painlessly.

and similarly I will not give a woman a pessary to cause an abortion.

"It's okay, sweetie," Will said gently, "it wasn't your fault. It wasn't, it's okay, sweetie, look at me. You haven't done anything wrong, okay? You said no to him, he's the only one in the wrong." The girl was crying in his arms, and Will was running his fingers through her hair. She was barely fourteen. Will didn't regret giving her a choice.

-

In purity and according to divine law will I carry out my life and my art.

Divine law could get fucked.

I will not use the knife, even upon those suffering from stones, but I will leave this to those who are trained in this craft.

Will was deadly, lethal on the battlefield, with his bow, arrows hand crafted, sharply barbed, dipped in poison. And Will wasn't afraid to use his knife or his scalpel on anyone who got between him and his patients. 

-

Nico was sat on his desk with his legs wrapped around Will's waist, hands kneading his chest, Will's hands messing up Nico's hair as he frantically kissed him. 

"Will," Nico began breathlessly, his head thudding against the wall behind him as Will sucked a hickey into his neck. "Will, you're gonna get sick… I've got a flu, that's why you're here."

"Mhm," Will muttered, nipping at Nico's ear lobe, grinning against his flesh as Nico shivered violently. "Worth it to finally kiss you properly now we're alone."

"Will," Nico sighed, and Will looked up to see his blissed out expression. "Will, I need to stop. Can't breathe."

"I kissed you breathless, huh?"

"Will, I've literally been hacking up blood all morning." Will sighed, and yeah, they probably shouldn't be making out whilst Nico was sick.

Will's brain supplied him with the oath. Will found himself not caring. His patient was just too pretty.

Into whatever homes I go, I will enter them for the benefit of the sick, avoiding any voluntary act of impropriety or corruption, including the seduction of women or men, whether they are free men or slaves.

-

Whatever I see or hear in the lives of my patients, whether in connection with my professional practice or not, which ought not to be spoken of outside, I will keep secret, as considering all such things to be private.

"So anyway," Will continued regardless, "your girlfriend caught herpes from someone else, thought you should know because you're gonna need to be tested too. Also you can do better than her. Like. Way better. Have you met my friend Clarisse? She's gay and single."

-

So long as I maintain this Oath faithfully and without corruption, may it be granted to me to partake of life fully and the practice of my art, gaining the respect of all men for all time. However, should I transgress this Oath and violate it, may the opposite be my fate.

Will was on the floor, holding the charred remains of his brother's burial shrouds. Maybe, he realised, this is why he could never be happy, why he suffered so much. 

He'd broken the oath, the whole godsdamned thing. And now he was facing his divine punishment- grieving, medically unfit for work, barely able to function through the trauma, laughing stock of camp. He blamed himself for the god's unfair punishments, over a child breaching an outdated oath.

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 22

“So…” Tommy intoned quietly. “Got any weekend plans?”

Bubby looked at Tommy like he was an insane person, which was fair, because at this point he was really starting to feel like one.

Shortly after Gordon was launched backward in time, Benrey disappeared from the plane, leaving the scientists alone in the cavern with only the sound of lapping water to keep them company. A few minutes later, Coomer had decided suddenly that he needed to go back, too. It was a premonition he had, with reasoning he couldn’t quite explain, but he was insistent.

So they fired up the portal gun and sent him on his way.

When Bubby didn’t answer him, Tommy resumed his waterlogged pace around the cavern. He hated this, hated the waiting, hated doing nothing. There were so many ways this plan could go wrong, and as the minutes crept past, Tommy grew more worried. Even if Benrey didn’t kill Gordon and Dr. Coomer, they could still get trapped back there, lost in the past, doomed to live through whatever offshoot timeline they created. Tommy tried not to think about what changing reality would do to them. He felt that his nose would start bleeding if he dwelled on it too much.

He completed another circuit of the cavern, making brief eye contact with Bubby as he passed. The older gentleman had counted and recounted the ammo in his magazine at least fifteen times now, stoic and silent in his anxiety. Tommy paced. Made lame attempts at conversation. Paced some more. When he’d finally given up on cutting the quiet, Bubby spoke up.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, you know.”

Tommy paused mid-stride, only about a yard away from the scientist. He frowned, not entirely sure what he was talking about, and waited for him to elaborate.

“When we betrayed him,” Bubby clarified. He kept his eyes on the semi-automatic in his hands as he spoke. “I didn’t mean for the soldiers to do that to him. Really.”

Water sloshed around Tommy’s legs as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Okay,” he said.

Bubby clipped and unclipped the magazine from its holster as he went on. “I didn’t think I would be wrong about him. I’ve never been wrong before.”

“About who,” Tommy asked, “Gordon?”

Bubby nodded, secured his weapon, and sighed. “I was just trying to get him away from us,” he said. He still was avoiding Tommy’s eyes, focusing instead on the pensive lap of dark fluid around his feet. “I didn’t think we could trust him. I… we… betrayed him before he could betray us.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Tommy answered, and Bubby retaliated sharply, “I know that now.”

Silence breathed cold and awkward between them. Tommy watched Bubby’s face as it scrolled through a few emotions, his mouth a taut, thin line. The creases around his eyes were pinched and narrow. He looked exhausted. Tommy guessed he was just as wrung out as the rest of them, even with the enhancements.

“I…” Bubby tried again. “I just wish it hadn’t happened. If I were to go back…” he traced the stock of the portal gun on his hip idly. “That’s what I would change.”

Tommy stuffed his hands uncomfortably in the pockets of his lab coat, damp and sticky in the humid air. “What’s - why are you telling me this?” he asked.

Bubby shrugged. “I guess I’m trying to apologize,” he answered.

“Apologize to Gordon,” Tommy said. “Not to me.”

The scientist’s eyes cut abruptly to Tommy’s, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re the one who had to clean it up afterward,” he insisted.

That didn’t quite sit right with him. This whole conversation didn’t, in fact. Tommy folded his arms delicately in front of his chest, tilting his head to the side to study the other man. He looked genuinely sorry, if a little miffed, but sorry didn’t undo what he did. Sorry didn’t make things right.

“Gordon isn’t a mess you made,” Tommy said at length. “He was - he’s - he’s a person you permanently affected with your actions.”

Bubby’s jaw worked in mild agitation. “Will you just accept the damn apology?” he asked. “We don’t even know if we’ll see him again.”

“We will,” Tommy said, with finality, and he resumed his pacing.

They lapsed into an uneasy silence after that. Bubby began circling the cavern, meticulously turning over and identifying the bones left behind by their hijacked colleagues. The thought of handling his coworkers’ remains made Tommy ill, and he kept his distance. He didn’t want to think about how Dr. Eagan from the fuel lab tried to claw his face off post-mortem. Still, it afforded them a little more dignity than lying motionless in an alien lake. What a tragic injustice.

“I always thought these looked kind of like pyramids,” Bubby commented as he hefted someone’s femur in his hand.

Tommy responded distractedly, keeping his eyes averted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He tossed the bone back in the water with an unceremonious splash. “Forget it. Do we have a plan?”

Tommy snorted in reply. “I really – I don’t think this is the – the kind of thing you can plan for.”

Bubby’s tone was irritable as he bent to scoop someone’s wallet out of the murk. “We need to come up with something,” he said, flicking through to remove the ID card. “I’m not getting trapped here, no matter what happens with Benrey. I’m going home.”

Leveling Bubby with a heavy gaze, Tommy said nothing for a moment. He didn’t wish to entertain this line of thought whatsoever. The likelihood of Gordon and Coomer failing and leaving them alone on Xen was worryingly high, but a stubborn part of him clung to hope regardless.

“We are going home,” he said with conviction. “All of us.”

The truth of his words echoed weightily in the humid chamber. There was no other outcome beyond this one. He felt it deep in the fibers of his heart.

Bubby opened his mouth, probably to utter a heated retort, at the same time a burst of green light materialized between them, snapping and crackling outward with a blinding flash. Tommy blinked spots out of his vision as the form of Dr. Coomer solidified, swaying on his feet for a second before pitching toward the surface of the water.

Tommy was slower to reach him than Bubby was, who caught and steadied the scientist with a hand on his shoulder. Coomer’s gaze was faraway and his lip trembled in shock.

“Dr. Coomer?” Bubby asked as the light dissolved.

They watched his face with interest as he gradually blinked into focus. His eyes shifted left, then right, vague recognition flickering behind them. His jaw worked silently until he found his voice.

“I’m… I’m back,” he guessed.

Bubby patted his shoulder in assurance. “You’re back,” he confirmed.

Coomer stared hollowly at his own hands, watching his tendons stand out as he slowly curled them into fists. The two of them gave him time to orient himself, but Tommy caught Bubby glancing around the cavern, alert for danger.

Once the old man was able to stand on his own, Tommy allowed himself to blurt, “What happened?”

Coomer gazed at him foggily, eyes tracking unseen memories. “I don’t know,” he said haltingly. “I don’t… really remember. We were back at the locker room, and-“ he broke off, blinking as he darted his gaze around the cavern. “Where are we?”

“You’re – we’re on Xen. In a – an alien lair,” Tommy summarized quickly. “Who did you see in the locker room? Mr. Freeman?”

“Was Benrey there?” Bubby added.

Dr. Coomer was shaking his head. “I don’t – I don’t know. Forgive me, gentlemen, my memories seem to be… a little out of order.”

Tommy stuffed his hands in his pockets so he could ball them into fists unseen. Shaking answers out of the guy would not only be irrational but also incredibly impolite. His heart rate was beginning to climb, and he inhaled heavily to calm himself. Gordon was alive, he knew that much, somehow; it was an instinct buried in his nerves. But he could still be lost out there in time, and Benrey could still be lurking between the ponderous ticks of the clock.

“What was the last thing you remember happening?” Bubby asked.

Coomer was silent for several seconds, then replied tentatively, “I think I was using the bathroom.”

Before either of them could articulate a response to that, a heavy splash sounded from the other end of the cavern, followed by a familiar voice ringing out, “Guys? Where are you?”

Tommy turned, heart in his throat, toward the sound, barely catching sight of Gordon Freeman emerging from behind a pillar as the air around them electrified. Benrey followed close behind, furling limb by limb into existence between them. He was back to his original proportions, still thirty feet tall and looming, and his expression held something Tommy hadn’t seen on his face before. His rage was fractured as he swung his eyes, lamplike, toward the men below him.

He was afraid.

“Guys! I did it!” Gordon called, his voice reverberating around the chamber with triumph. Tommy heard splashing as he ran to rejoin them. “The passport’s shredded!”

“You did it, Gordon!” Bubby hollered back.

Coomer smiled, somewhat more oriented with the others’ return. “Gordon, I don’t know what you did, but I believe you’ve completely rewritten the course of history,” he remarked, eyeing the entity.

“What?” Gordon panted as he rolled to a stop in front of them.

Tommy watched his eyes pass briefly over the scientists, checking for damage, before landing on Tommy. He looked weary and a little shaken, but the grin on his face was hungry. Seeing him that way put a fire in Tommy’s stomach. Blood and grime smeared his skin and his glasses were smudged and cloudy, but behind the lenses his dark eyes burned. They were going to make it.

Behind him, Benrey was beginning to rise into the air, electricity arcing across the cavern and between his fingers. Tommy tasted ozone as he watched the entity span overhead like a thundercloud, unstable and growling. His eyes were wild, his expression desperate, and Tommy knew that desperate people made dangerous choices.

Gordon was dauntless as he stared up at him. “Benrey,” he called, raising his arm to point with the barrel of his gun. “Time to die, son.”

The entity bared his teeth like a cornered wolverine. “No, wait,” he rumbled.

Arcs of lightning flashed and sparked between the pockmarked pillars, humming as they knit together overhead. Benrey’s form was precariously erratic, and Tommy was sure he saw electricity passing through his joints like thread holding together a seam. The entity was dying. Violently so. The idea was so foreign to Tommy it kept him rooted to the spot far longer than was safe. He didn’t even notice the others retreating from the creature until a hand on his collar yanked him back.

“Come on!” Gordon shouted, his voice ringing in Tommy’s ear. “Everything we got, guys!”

They opened fire. It was all there was left to do. Lightning sparked and lanced like javelins as Benrey tried his best to turn them all to ash. Tommy wondered distractedly how standing in a lake of red water didn’t conduct the electricity and fry them all on the spot. He emptied his mag, reloaded, and emptied it again, his arms shaking to keep the barrel raised in his exhaustion.

“Gordon, it’s not working!” Coomer shrilled, clicking his finger on the trigger uselessly as his ammo ran out.

It may not have been working, but it certainly was doing something to the entity. He roared and thrashed overhead, looking less and less like a living creature as his form slowly ripped and frayed.

Gordon tossed a frantic look in the boxer’s direction. “It’s not enough! What do we do?” he asked, just as Bubby ignited.

Hot orange light flickered and danced through the cave as Bubby cackled with unbridled glee. The water around his ankles boiled, but the prototype himself was unhurt as fire licked over his skin. The human fireball charged at Benrey, and the creature roared as he was singed by the flames.

Gordon passed an openmouthed look from Bubby to Tommy. “Could he always do that?”

Tommy could only offer a wide-eyed shrug in response.

Bubby’s stunt cost Tommy his attention, and he was a bit too slow to dodge a lance of lightning that caught him in the shoulder, white hot and burning. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, dropping his rifle in shock as he staggered back. Biting his tongue through the pain, Tommy took cover behind a nearby stalagmite, a hand clutched to the burn wound in his shoulder. The same shoulder with the shrapnel in it. Fucking hell.

As gunfire and electricity popped around him, Tommy fought down nausea and frustration while he crouched in the water. Useless, he felt so fucking useless, cowering while his friends took the brunt of Benrey’s attacks, unable to even shoot now that he’d dropped his weapon. What did Tommy have to offer when he was without his power? How did Gordon Freeman, soft and mortal, make being heroic seem so effortless? Lightning arced past his hiding place and the hair on his arms stood on end.

THOMAS, a voice echoed in his skull, and Tommy’s eyes went wide.

“Sunkist?”

THOMAS, I AM COMING TO YOUR AID.

Frantically, he looked around, searching for any sign of the psychic animal in the gloom. “I - how did you find me?”

Before the perfect dog could answer him, a great, bellowing roar ripped Tommy’s attention back to the fight. Shoulder still burning with pain, he glanced around the pillar and was met with the impossible sight of Dr. Coomer at three times his original size. A radioactive green glow haloed around him and the stitching of his lab coat popped under the strain of newfound muscle mass. Holy shit. Take cover for thirty seconds and Tommy misses everything.

A couple yards away, Gordon took an awed step back. “Whoa, whoa.”

Coomer’s voice shook the cavern. “Witness my true power!”

Rocks and debris fell from the ceiling, bulleting through Benrey’s nebulous form and splashing into the water below. Tommy scrambled out of his hiding spot to dodge a hunk of cavern rock about to cleave his head open, rejoining Gordon at his side and throwing him a perplexed glance.

“Could he always do that?” he asked, and Gordon laughed.

“Train and fight, Gordon!” the boxer rumbled like a thunderhead. He sprang into the air toward Benrey and began whaling on him.

Supercharged by Coomer’s transformation, Gordon let out a yell and sprinted toward the entity, spraying insults and bullets. Tommy found himself following closely behind, even while injured, weaponless, and with barely a shred of a plan. Hiding was no longer an option; he only knew he needed to be here, feet firmly planted with a wall of armor in front of him.

He was safest here. At Gordon’s back. Shockwaves and gunfire and Benrey and all. The realization nearly made him lightheaded.

“Take him out!” Gordon shouted.

The entity in question was beginning to display the damage he was taking from their combined attacks, Screaming and burning and bruising and slowly collapsing in on himself. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion - A car crash that was accelerated by the starburst of light that heralded Sunkist’s arrival.

A brief flick of Gordon’s eyes betrayed his double-take as he caught the retriever flashing through the ether. “What?” he asked. “Sunkist is here?”

“Yes!” Tommy cried as he felt his heart swell. “Sunkist is here - Sunkist is gonna help us!”

He beamed as his best friend splashed down before them, twelve feet of loyal canine glory. A stray zing of lightning hurtled towards them and Sunkist leapt to catch it in his jaws like a frisbee. The beast’s eyes flashed with excitement while sparks leapt between his teeth. This was a game to him, a fantastic game, and he stood taut and attentive with his gaze locked on Tommy as he awaited an invitation to play.

“Go Sunkist,” Tommy commanded, pointing toward the ultimate chew toy. “Attack!”

Gordon and Tommy stood side by side, watching in awe as the perfect dog leapt into the fray. Benrey writhed and shrieked as he was assailed by the combined efforts of Coomer, Bubby, and Sunkist, who looked like angry wasps up against his colossal form. Electricity sparked and snapped, flashing their retinas with an acid green. He was unraveling rapidly, now, limbs unspooling like a busted VHS tape.

“This isn’t fair!” his bellow shook the cavern.

Gordon’s hand found Tommy’s, giving it a short squeeze. His fingers were shaking. Tommy pulled his eyes away from the spectacle to study the other man’s face. Gordon was staring at the entity with a hard determination, brows set and steady, jaw hard and tense. He looked like he was staring down a sheer cliff and needed to jump, all nerves and fear and fire, and even like this, he was stunning.

“I’m gonna end this,” he said, and Tommy only caught his words in the movement of his lips, he uttered it so quietly.

Tommy squeezed his hand and let him go. “Okay.”

The low gravity on Xen and the enhancements in his suit gave Gordon enough clearance to leap impossibly high, a bright orange spark up against a hungry cloud of teeth and hate. For a moment he hung, suspended in the air, eye to eye with a nightmare, before plummeting straight into it.

Tommy’s eyes followed him as he went, praying and hoping like he was a falling star.

“This is it Benrey!” Gordon’s voice rang out. “You’re going to hell! Dying for the first time!”

They collided in a sickly flash of green light that erupted through the cavern, screaming and shocking and burning.

And then Tommy was sprinting through the current of red, catching Gordon as he fell, the weight of his suit against his chest like a meteor impact as they both went splashing into the water. They emerged coughing and spluttering, Tommy’s heart surging with relief to hear Gordon conscious and breathing, and he kept his arms around him as the raging storm that was Benrey roiled blackly overhead. The only thing left of him that was recognizable were the two spotlight eyes boring down on them, scared and shining.

Tommy almost felt sorry for him. Just a fleeting shred of humanity, brief and empathetic as he made eye contact with the entity. Gone as soon as it arrived. A tortured scream ripped from whatever used to be Benrey’s throat, outrage quaking the room and shivering their nerves.

It was over. It was over.

Bubby and Coomer retreated from the entity as he slipped violently from existence, Sunkist following close at their heels. Tommy rose and hauled Gordon to his feet, keeping close with an arm around his shoulders to steady him. The team regrouped together in the warm red sea, eyes raised to witness the storm breaking above them.

Here stood soft, fragile creatures from earth, flawed and bleeding and mortal, unmaking an alien god. Tommy buried his face in Gordon’s hair as the shockwaves washed over them.

As beast and blitzkrieg roared around them, Dr. Coomer’s voice rose triumphantly above the din. “DON’T FUCK WITH THE SCIENCE TEAM!”

Everything fell away.

Chapter 21 <-----> Chapter 23

[thegizka]

I See You Reflected In The Moon (fic)

 Chapter 2:  Separated

Rukia had lived nearly all of her life with Renji by her side, but unexpected developments threaten to change everything.

Read it on Ao3.

A thin layer of snow blanketed all visible surfaces, the cold night temperature crystallizing it into a glittering coat of ice.  All outside surfaces were slick, including the wooden walkways and porches of the Kuchiki estate.  During such cold spells, the family used the inner hallways, keeping the exterior doors closed as much as possible so the warmth wouldn’t be swallowed by the winter chill.

Rukia was the coziest and most comfortable that she had ever been, but she missed the cold.  She missed a lot of things, actually.  Her adoption into the Kuchiki clan was the sort of unlikely miracle the Hanging Dog orphans had dreamed of, the whisper of which some of them would disappear to pursue and probably never achieve.  She had been plucked from the lowest rungs of poverty and elevated to the highest of privilege.  She had been delivered from obscurity and given a name, a family, an identity.  It was the best of fairy tale endings, yet she felt incomplete.

She missed being surrounded by people.  The Kuchiki estate was much quieter than any part of the Soul Society she had ever been in.  Her self-made home in Hanging Dog had been messy and full of orphans.  She had done her best to take care of them and protect them until they found a better future.  She had tried to know each of them by name, whether they stayed for a few nights or the rest of their lives.  She had even formed close friendships with some of them.  She had grown to love a handful as her family.  But she learned that the longer you stay in Hanging Dog, the more goodbyes you have to say.  More and more orphans left to try surviving on their own, meaning there were less people to help find food and supplies.  Day to day life was an endless stream of worries and struggles.  Then waves of sickness swept through the district, and Rukia watched helplessly as it claimed her friends--her family--one by one.  Soon it was only her and Renji, worn down by the toil and sorrow, tired of goodbyes.  There had been nothing left for them in Hanging Dog, so they enrolled in the Soul Reaper academy.

She was glad Renji was still with her.  Or he had been.  She missed him now.  They had mourned together, had learned to move on together, had fought for this future together.  They had stuck together in the academy, aware that their tougher background could put them at a social and intellectual disadvantage.  But their experiences also gave them the advantage of exposure to fighting and survival and death.  They were quick to learn and adapt, and they eventually let their guards down enough to make friends.  Together they were healing and redefining their futures.

Rukia couldn’t help smiling to herself as she remembered all of the things they had learned, like how to sleep on a comfortable mattress, and what the moon really was.  She could still remember how smug Renji had looked when he had explained it was nothing more than a giant rock in the sky pulled through space by the earth’s gravity.  He had been fascinated by the science of it all and devoured any information he could find about it.  She had known he was diligent and smart, but their entry into the academy had allowed him to really capitalize on those skills.  If only that could help him with his kido.

She had been scared at first when they were given separate rooms in the academy dorms.  She wasn’t used to sleeping in her own space alone.  She knew Renji was only down the hallway but her first nights in the dorms had not been particularly restful.  On the third night, tired of how quiet everything was and not yet used to the comfort of the bed, she had snuck out and climbed to the roof, hoping to find some peace in the open air.

To her surprise, a familiar redhead and beat her to it.

“What are you doing here?”

Surprise flashed through Renji’s eyes, but they softened in recognition and welcome.

“I should’ve known you’d be along eventually to disturb my peace and quiet.”

“It’s the quiet that drove me out here,” she explained, climbing over the roof to settle beside him, close enough for their shoulders to brush comfortably.  “Everything is too calm here.”

He hummed in agreement.  Silence floated between them, the heavy silence of two minds preoccupied with the same thoughts but not particularly eager to share them.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, though.  Over the years they had shared numerous moonlight chats when they had difficulty sleeping.  Their talks ranged from silly to serious depending on what they sensed each other needed in the moment.  They had been sources of comfort and relief to each other as they navigated the challenges of life in Hanging Dog.  They had perhaps even come to rely on these moments as their friends and family exited their lives.  Now confronting the novelty of the Soul Reaper academy, it was comforting to find themselves still sharing in such a familiar experience.

“Well,” Renji sighed after a while, “we made it.”

“We did, though in your case, just barely.”

“I’m sorry we can’t all have raw talent like you.”

“I’m not sure that’ll be such an advantage now that we’re actually at a school with specific lessons and assignments and tests and things.  You’ll have to teach me how to properly study.”

“I know as much about school as you do.  What makes you think I know how to study?”

“Well you’re always thinking about things and learning stuff.”

“That’s much different than being told what to think about and learn.”

“They’re going to teach us to be Soul Reapers, right?  Which means fighting and working in a squad to protect and take care of people.  I know for a fact you have a lot of experience with that.”

“Yeah, I had to figure all of that out as we went along,” he reflected queity.  “Maybe if I’d had someone to teach me, I could’ve taken better care of everyone.”

Rukia’s chest tightened.  They had mourned the loss of their friends, and the ruthlessness of life in Hanging Dog had hardened them to some of the pain, but here was still an emptiness.  Sometimes she got so angry at the injustice that they two had survived such hardships and the others in their family had not.

“We did the best that we could,” she murmured, laying her head on his shoulder to both provide and seek comfort.

“A better future,” he quoted with a sigh, dropping his head to rest on hers.  “It doesn’t really feel that much better right now.”

“Well, we don’t have to scavenge for food.  We have a warm and reliable place to sleep.  We are earning enough money to live on.  We have a purpose.  And we still have each other.”  She smiled up at the waning moon.  “It’s not a perfect future, but it is one step closer, one bit better.”

Renji remained silent as his thoughts wandered.  She took the time to admire the stars--burning balls of gas, apparently, but still magical to her.  Nights of sitting awake outside had helped her map those glowing pinpoints in an effort to arrange her flickering thoughts.  But the clarity of the stars were easily hidden by clouds.  The moon, however, was harder to dim.  Her eyes were always drawn back to it.  Though it waxed and waned, she knew it was always there, always held a place in the sky, and always came back.  It was familiar like an old friend.  Like Renji.

“I do hope the next ‘better future’ has beds that I can actually sleep in.”

She giggled, and she felt a slight rumble travel through him to her as he also chuckled.  They spoke about this and that for a while, enjoying the mild weather and each others’ company, before turning in for the night.

Just as they had in Hanging Dog, they often found themselves chatting in the moonlight as they adjusted to this new life.  School hadn’t been as shocking as they had expected.  Rukia excelled in reishi control, Renji walloped people in combat, and both did well in their conventional studies.  As they grew more comfortable and felt deserving of their places in the academy, they made friends.  They grew to enjoy this new life.

And then everything was disrupted by one unexpected question.  No, it hadn’t been a question.  It was an order.

We would like to adopt you into the Kuchiki family.

There was no appropriate answer other than ‘yes’.  The noble clans never adopted--at least not the main branches--so it was unheard of that anyone would decline.  Besides, it was the ideal dream of any orphan, to be welcomed into all of the comfort and status of the highborn class.  It was the type of fairy tale twist people would die for.

But initially she had wanted to decline.  It was too good to be true.  And it made no sense.  Why her?  It couldn’t have been due to her record in the academy.  True, she excelled in kido and had been complimented on the precision of her swordplay, but Momo Hinamori had better reishi control, and Renji nearly always bested her in sparring matches.  She was in the upper tier of their class but recognizably shy of the top.

Was it a secret family tie, then?  If so, why hadn’t they found her sooner?  She had struggled alone for so long without any knowledge of her blood family beyond vague memories of stories and feelings.  Renji had at least begun life in the Soul Society with an uncle, giving him the surname Abarai before he died and left his nephew to scrape together an existence with the other Hanging Dog orphans.

Rukia didn’t know if she had ever had a last name.  It was something she wondered about during her moonlight contemplations.  The fact that she had next to nothing to tether her to an identity was secretly distressing.  She felt incomplete and unanchored.  Her friendships in Hanging Dog helped to alleviate some of that aching uncertainty, but it remained in the back of her mind.  It had never been a serious problem, though, until they were filling out registration forms before the academy entrance exams.

At the end of a long day of studying, training, and doing odd jobs for the few residents of Hanging Dog who could pay someone else for labor, she and Renji were staying up deep into the night to continue preparing for the academy.  They used others’ discarded candle stubs for light as they filled out forms for legal documents and registration.  The moon had risen well above the horizon when Rukia sat back, frowning at a blank space on the paper in front of her.

“What is it?” Renji asked, eyes still fixed to the book he was hunched over.  They had spent so much time together, they could sense the other’s mood changes by proximity.

“I don’t have a last name.”

He glanced at her.  “Yeah, so?”

She handed him the paper, tapping to indicate the trouble spot.  He studied it for a second before handing it back with a shrug.

“Just leave it blank.”

“It has one of those ‘required’ marks by it.  I can’t just leave it blank!”

“But you don’t have a last name.”

“Exactly!  I need one, but I don’t have one!”

His eyes roamed her frustrated face for a second before he turned back to his studies.  “Just make one up then.”

Rukia wanted to punch him in that moment.  Make something up???  A name carried a person’s identity.  She couldn’t just make one up!  Didn’t he understand the significance of a last name?  It tied people together, made them belong to each other, formalized a bond between them.  She could feel the desperate desire for that type of connection building inside her, combining with her fatigue and worry over the academy application until it resembled a desperate need she frantically desired to appease.  She couldn’t arbitrarily decide on a fake name, not if it was going on her official application!  She knew it would follow her for her entire career as a Soul Reaper and only serve as a constant reminder that she came from nowhere and was tied to no one.

Her frustration was palpable enough to disturb Renji’s studies.  He sat back and let out an exasperated breath, staring through their open door at the moon suspended above the ramshackle roofs of Hanging Dog.  His eyebrows were drawn together, a sure sign that he was thinking seriously about something, and for some reason, it only deepend Rukia’s sense of frustration.  He seemed much too calm to be taking her concerns seriously.

“If it’s that big of a deal to you, then just use my last name.”

“Huh?”  She was taken aback for a moment.  What was he saying?  What was he implying?

“Look, we’re family, right?”  He turned to look at her, and she saw that he was as serious as he was when they were calculating how to get enough food to feed everyone for the day.  There was no jest or ulterior motive, only calm honesty.  “We’ve promised each other we’re in this together.  Might as well make it official and share the same name.”

“You want to get married?” she screeched.

“What?  No!  No!”  He drew back from her, confusion and surprise and embarrassment coloring his cheeks red.  “I just meant you can use my last name!  Like brother and sister!  Get marr--  What the heck Rukia?!  No!”

She was laughing now, all of the previous frustration released in silly joy as she watched her best friend getting flustered.  She had figured he didn’t mean that--after all, they were incredibly young for that type of commitment, and while she loved him, she was pretty sure it wasn’t that sort of love--but he had left the opportunity open, and she always took the chance to tease him.  He could be such a dork, and she loved when she caught him off guard like this.

By the time she caught her breath and calmed her chuckling, Renji had returned to staring hard at his study material, though his eyes remained frozenly fixed on a single spot and pink skin still hinted at a blush along his cheekbones.  She just stared at him for a while, happy to have him in her life and thrilled that he would give her the gift of his name.  She was important enough to him that he was willing to formalize their bond by tying them together with his name.

So she had become an Abarai at the academy.  Of course some of their classmates had been confused and thought they were married.  Rukia always loved those moments because Renji would turn bright red and she would get to laugh and explain how they weren’t, nor were they technically related, but they had chosen to be family to each other so she had registered under his name.  It was easy to explain as a casual formality, but having been given a last name eased some of the ache at having an unknown past and unclear identity.

Yet the Kuchikis decided to take that away from her.  In its place they offered a name with more prestige and greater lineage, but it felt wrong.  She and Renji had shared the same circumstances and overcome the same obstacles together.  She wasn’t a noblewoman.  She didn’t fit the name ‘Kuchiki’, and the name didn’t fit her.  By accepting, she knew she would simply be inhabiting a role, pretending to be a sister to a man she didn’t know and a daughter to parents she would never meet.  They would be family in name only.  Perhaps she would grow to think of them as hers as they evidently intended to think of her as theirs, but she and Renji had already lived for years as a family, as each other’s siblings.  Why should she give that up for this unearned legacy?  She had survived by her own volition for so long, she would much rather continue as she had with her best friend.

But as soon as they had made their proposition, she knew that was no longer an option, and Renji’s unexpected visit only served to drive that point home.  She watched with internal horror as the excitement on his face changed to surprise, confusion, and wariness.  She watched as her new “brother” looked down his nose at her chosen brother and dismissed him without a second glance.  And she realized what she had been most worried about when they first approached her--that becoming a Kuchiki meant giving up everything that was being an Abarai.

But she couldn’t say no, and she saw in Renji’s eyes that he had already accepted she would say yes.  He congratulated her, bubbling over with the joy and excitement that she couldn’t summon for herself.  It broke her heart, but he was saying that he was happy for her and that she should embrace this new future--this better future, the sort of future their friends had died dreaming about.  He was letting her go.  He was saying goodbye.

“Thank you,” she told him, brushing past him so he wouldn’t see her tears.  There was so much more she wanted to say to this boy who had been by her side and believed in her and had been everything she had needed.  But she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t say all of the things she had thought they would have time to say because she had never expected to say goodbye to Renji.  They were meant to build a better future together.  They had promised each other they would never leave.  But she had to walk past him and through the door into life as a Kuchiki.  She was an Abarai no more.

Rukia pulled the thick, warm comforter tighter around herself.  She had adjusted to the comfort of mattresses, but her new home was still too quiet.  She would stay up late at night with her thoughts and gaze at the moon, seeking answers in its mottled surface.  Despite tonight’s cold, she had slipped outside to sit on the porch, dragging her blanket with her for warmth and a semblance of comfort.

Life in Hanging Dog had been crowded and lively.  There had always been things to do, schemes to cook up, and pranks to play.  Here, the servants did everything, ghosting through the estate and accomplishing their duties out of sight so that Rukia felt as though she were alone most of the day, even though she knew there was always someone within earshot.  The few times she had run into the staff, she couldn’t help noticing them giving her a strange look, one that shifted from familiarity to shock to careful and distant deference.In another life, she could have been one of them.  Being a servant to one of the noble clans was an enviable life for an orphan.  She wondered what they must think of her, suddenly elevated to a member of the family and their superior.  She didn’t blame them for keeping their distance.

She had thought she would see more of her new family, though.  To her, being a family meant sharing their lives and being close to each other, like she had with the Hanging Dog orphans.  She rarely saw her Kuchiki relatives.  Byakuya would usually join her for dinner, but a few days each week his Soul Reaper duties kept him working until late.  She was expected to give him a report every evening on the progression of her studies--she had private tutors covering academy lessons and the expectations of the nobility--but he only ever desired the facts.  He rarely commented on her progress, and never offered praise.  Like her teachers, he was distant, but at least he was somewhat willing to interact with her.  After an initial introduction and polite visits to other members of the Kuchiki clan, Rukia had been all but ignored by her new relatives.

She missed Renji especially in these long moments alone when she couldn’t sleep.  The formality and rigidity of this new life were isolating, and she longed for his liveliness and sincerity.  Since leaving the academy for her private lessons, she hadn’t been able to keep up on the progress of her friends.  She was being streamlined to graduate early and practically guaranteed a ranked seat in one of the Court Guard Squads.  She didn’t know when she would have the chance to see anyone again.  Would they all graduate?  Would Renji’s issues with kido hold him back?  Would he have classmates watching his back during their lessons in the field?  He had found a few friends to hang out and study with, and hopefully they would survive the trials of the academy together.

But they were out of reach for her now, as far away as the moon.  She didn’t feel like she had anyone watching her back anymore.  That was something she had given up when she gave up being an Abarai.  She was learning that being a Kuchiki meant maintaining a distance from everyone else under the guise of pride and reserve.  It was the opposite of Hanging Dog where they had shared everything.  She missed the warmth she used to feel at the word “family”.  The only thing she had left of her previous life was the moon, the constant companion of her inner thoughts.  Tonight, it had never seemed so far away.