Chapter Text
Kel stands on a roof.
The wind howls around him, tossing his curls back into his face, obscuring his vision. He takes a step forward, then another. Then, the wind stops.
His hair falls back down to its usual position, clearing his vision and revealing a figure standing on the ledge, dark hair and snow-white skin, all bones and no flesh.
Kel takes another step.
Sunny falls.
Sunny does not scream. When Kel looks down over the edge of the roof, Sunny is smiling. Kel doesn’t remember seeing Sunny smile in a very, very long time.
The scene enraptures him, tying him down to the spot, staring blankly at the ground as Sunny falls further and further away from him, further and further away from safety and salvation.
Kel stands up, turning around just in time to see Mari struggling for air, the jump rope noose tightening around her neck. It keeps her trapped, the same way his feet are glued to the spot.
He blinks, and Mari is gone, but the jump rope is around his wrist and a struggling weight to the end of it.
In her place, Basil lets out a soft gasp as he drives a pair of garden shears into his gut. The sound of metal on flesh tastes like half a dozen bags of glitter poured into his mouth dry. It scrapes and claws at his throat and he tries to step forward, he really does, but he can’t .
All of a sudden, Aubrey is there. Kel wants to call out to her, to get her to help him, to help Basil, to call for help, please-
Aubrey kneels next to Basil, soft and gentle in a way she hasn’t been in ages as she lays him on her knees and cradles him against her chest, careful and loving.
For a split second, he sees Mari in her place.
Then, he doesn’t.
Aubrey is soft and gentle and careful in the way that she hasn’t been lately and maybe that should have given it away because she caresses Basil’s cheek with one hand as she rips out the shears with the other - one smooth motion.
Basil’s body jolts as the blood flows freely and he’s turning paler but Aubrey doesn’t apply pressure or call for help or look for bandages after her misstep. She presses her lips to his forehead as he gurgles out something unintelligible, then turns the shears against her neck.
They slice through flesh swiftly.
And Kel.
Kel is helpless.
Kel is an outsider.
Kel is an intruder.
Kel is an observer.
Kel is useless.
Kel is rooted to this cursed spot as he hears Sunny finally hit the ground, as he feels the rope from his wrist to Mari’s neck stop moving, as Basil and Aubrey take their last breaths together.
Hero lays across his lap, catatonic.
The picnic blanket is so very red.
-
Kel does not wake up screaming or startled.
Kel wakes up by simply opening his eyes to his ceiling, with a tightness in his chest and an unsteady heartbeat.
Kel does not go back to sleep that night.
-
From: [email protected]
Date: Tue, Feb 5, 2002, 4:21 PM
Subject: sleep
hero yo!
i know i’m usually a heavy sleeper and all and i don’t think i told you but remember when you had nightmares during the summer? yeah i was usually awake then. i never told you because it never seemed like you wanted me to know, y’know? but if i’m gonna be pouring out everything in my head here, i might as well tell you this too.
you’d wake up gasping and i dunno, that just never quite looked right on you. i never liked it, and it never seemed that you did either, so i didn’t talk about it. now i’m wondering if i should have, because even though they’re nightmares… i dunno, it always made you seem a little more human.
not to say that you aren’t human. but. well.
anyway, all this to say i’ve been having nightmares lately. part of me just wants to call you up and tell you everything that’s been happening and everything that’s been troubling me but med school is hard and i don’t want to make it worse.
everyone dies and i can’t stop them. everyone except you, of course. maybe one day you’ll join them in my nightmares. i hope not. god, i hope not.
if you had to choose a way, how would you kill yourself?
i think i would want something easy and painless. maybe i’d borrow dad’s gun and. y’know. i think that would be easiest. fastest. i don’t think i would be in pain for long.
i wonder if aubrey and basil would let me join them if i asked. probably. i wonder if we’ll get to see mari again once we die.
i shouldn’t though. that would leave you alone. and sally. and hector.
i wonder if they remember it. what if they were just joking, just riding the tides of new years? what if all this is just an overreaction because of my stupid brain? i hope so. i really really hope so. i don’t think so, though.
basil’s birthday is in two weeks. i wonder what i should get him.
your dearest brother,
kel
-
The fortunate (????) thing about the Sunny thing happening after the Mari thing is that everyone knows better now, to an extent. They didn’t let their different grieving methods draw them apart. They stuck to each other.
This, thankfully, means that Kel has plenty of ideas for Basil’s birthday present.
Unfortunately, not all of them are particularly… feasible.
Look, okay? He’s never been quite good with presents.
He stands in Fix-It’s garden section for a good half an hour, ooh-ing and aah-ing over every other plant.
Those are tulips. Those are sunflowers. Those are bonsai trees. Those are bamboo stalks. Those are blueberries. Those are raspberries.
It takes him another half an hour of pondering over various plants before he finally realises that each of them are so familiar because Basil already has them .
…So that’s out.
He bumps into Kim and Vance at the candy store. They suggest a lollipop, which reminds him about how Basil always complained about feeling nauseous after eating lollipops and his general inability to stomach much sugar and - why’s he even in the candy store anyway? They don’t sell cakes.
The bakery is Kel’s next stop. Basil has always liked creamier desserts over sugary ones, and Kel knows that much. He’s proud that he knows that much, okay? Sally’s favourite foods change every five days, and he’s a good enough big brother to keep up with all of that.
He orders a cake - a small one, topped with white frosting and blueberries - and borrows their pen to scrawl a reminder to write a more lasting reminder to collect the cake in a week.
It’s simple. He hopes Basil will like it.
It’s not good enough for a proper gift, though. This birthday is important . The gift needs to be long-lasting, immortal. It needs to be something worthy of an eighteenth birthday and a “I care for you so much, please don’t die”.
It’s while moping at Hobeez when Kel spots it.
And it?
It’s perfect.
-
There is a knock at the door.
It’s not Kim, whose knock he recognises from that day at Sunny’s house. It’s not Aubrey, who knocks loud and unapologetic, the way she never was and the way it seems she will never be again. It’s not Sunny. (It can’t be.)
This knock is hesitant, loud at the beginning, before pivoting to become far softer. It tastes like the green tea he tried and Sunny’s place once when they were younger - bitter and bland, the smell of leaves on the tip of his tongue.
He opens the door.
“Ah!” Basil smiles up at him, a small and hesitant thing. “Kel!”
“Basil!” Kel greets, leaning against the doorframe before scrambling to right himself, finally registering the very vibrant changes. “Wait! You dyed your hair?”
The half-blond fidgets with green-tipped hair. “Oh… Yes! I’ve always wanted to do it, so Aubrey gave me some tips. Um. Literally.”
“It looks good on you,” Kel says, doing his best to lace sincerity through his words. Then, he remembers his manners, and backs away from the door. “Wait, come in!”
Basil smiles. “Sorry, not now! I just wanted to remind you to show up at my place later.”
“How could I forget?” Kel says, disguising the fact that he completely forgot about it. If Basil notices, he doesn’t mention it. “It’s your birthday! Happy birthday! Do you want your present now or later? Trick question! Give me a minute.”
Basil’s birthday present is a hastily wrapped bundle thrown on top of Hero’s bed. Look. If Hero isn’t here to take care of his bed, then Kel can do what he wants with it as long as it looks marginally neat when his big bro comes home for the holidays. Okay?
He sprints down the stairs just as quickly as he sprints up them, and shoves the parcel into Basil’s arms.
“Open it!”
Basil hesitates. “...Here? On your front step?”
Kel shrugs. “Yeah? Where else? You said you didn’t want to come in, right?” He taps his foot as Basil doesn’t respond. “... …So…?”
The flower boy laughs, clutching the package in his hands. “Never change, Kel.”
“So… Open it?”
Basil peels open the wrapping paper with all the care that Kel decidedly did not use when trying to wrap the same package, eventually shaking out a pair of socks.
Basil raises an eyebrow.
Kel smiles back, unreasonably proud of himself. “Read it!”
The first sock reads “Plants love me”. The other reads “People scare me”.
Kel preens, even as Basil takes a few long seconds to stare at his gift. Then, he laughs into the crook of his elbow.
It’s a step in the right direction, Kel thinks, and joins in the laughter.
-
There’s something deeply comedic about the situation, Kel decides. The situation, of course, being that he and Basil are seated around the dining table, drinking wine from teacups. Basil even has his pinky stuck out and all, like a dainty Victorian lady.
There’s another cup and saucer set out. It’s probably for Aubrey - who had better show up soon, because Basil had hinted towards having made ice cream. Kel wants ice cream. He really wants ice cream. He would kill for ice cream. It’s not yet the sweltering heat of summer, but it’s certainly warm enough.
Oh god. And summer? It’s coming too quickly for Kel’s liking. He’s not ready - he hasn’t even done anything.
On that note, wine tastes disgusting. Not Kel’s taste at all, but Basil seems to enjoy it and it’s his birthday, not Kel’s, so Kel rolls with it, taking little sips out of the teacup. If this is what Basil wants, then it’s what Basil will get.
His blueberry cake sits in front of them, waiting for the last member of their little group to show up.
Aubrey does not knock when she enters. No, she strides into Basil’s house like she’s lived here all her life, so very assured of her place in this cursed location.
Never mind that Basil and Sunny got into a fight here. Never mind the echoes of Polly’s scream. Never mind the memory of Hero’s efforts to keep them both alive. Never mind the tinge of red that tips Kel’s hands. Never mind that he now knows the way Aubrey’s voice can crack. Never mind the smell of blood that still permeates Basil’s room till this day.
(Kel wonders how Basil can live with it. Then he remembers the plan to die.)
“Nice hair, birthday boy,” she grins sharply as she drops two bags onto the table, freeing up her hands to ruffle green hair. She gestures at one of her bags, followed by the other. “Fruit cake for a plant nerd like you, and this is a gift as nerdy as you are.”
“Ah- Thank you, Aubrey!” Basil chirps.
Aubrey softens her grin and drops into the empty seat. Then, she stops, wrinkling her nose. “Hey… Uh. Basil? Why’s your house smelling like the inside of my mother’s room?”
Kel breathes in the smell of mouldy grapes, matches it against the singular trip he made to Aubrey’s place. “Probably the wine.”
Basil nods.
Aubrey freezes, visibly holding herself back from saying anything else.
The three of them sit in silence for a while. Kel sips at the wine.
“Happy birthday, Basil,” Aubrey manages, finally, flatly. “I think I should go.”
Neither of them stop her as she leaves.
Neither of them talk about it.
-
It’s like the trolley problem.
You stand by the tracks, in front of a lever. One path is clear, but the other has two people tied down to it. The train is going to run over the two people.
Of course you pull the lever.
Why wouldn’t you?
-
Okay, maybe it’s a bit more complicated than that. Let’s try again.
You stand by the tracks, in front of a lever. Both paths are clear, but someone is standing next to the tracks that the train will go by.
The person willingly steps onto the tracks, just as the train prepares to turn onto that path.
Do you pull the lever?
Silly question. I suppose the real question is: Do you pull the lever in time ?
-
That’s not quite right.
You stand by the tracks, in front of a lever. There is no one on either track. However, someone comes up and tells you that they’re going to walk onto one of the tracks, the one the train will use.
Do you pull the lever and guarantee their safety, disrupting the lives of everyone else even if it turns out to just be a joke? Or do you leave the lever and hope that it's just a joke, that they don’t mean it?
What do you do?
-
You stand by the tracks, in front of a lever. Actually, you know what? Screw that. There is no lever, no easy solution.
You stand by the tracks. A train approaches.
Quite a distance away from you, someone steps in front of the train. What do you do? There’s nothing you can do, actually. There is no lever to switch the tracks, no button to make it stop.
The person dies, but it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could do.
Immediately after that, a second person gets into a fight with a third person, right on the train tracks. What do you do? Nothing. They’re still too far away.
Neither die. They roll away just in time.
The second person watches the train pass, then runs to catch up. They look like they’re trying to get on the train. What do you do? Nothing, of course, surely they’re not dumb enough, not crazy enough to-
They try to jump onto the train. They miss, and get run over. They don’t die, not yet, but they’re definitely dying, bleeding out on the tracks, eyes wide open. Their body convulses and despite everyone’s efforts, they don’t get back up. There is no hope left for them.
There’s a fourth person in-between you and the third. The third and the fourth talk, then stand by the tracks and wait for the next train to come. You know what they’re going to do. They haven’t been quiet about it. There’s a fifth person stuck on the tracks.
What do you do?
-
Okay, maybe that can be simplified.
You stand by the tracks. A train approaches.
Your two best friends get ready to walk in front of the train. Tied to them by a rope is your brother.
Here are your options.
One. You can try to stop your friends from walking into the train. There is no guarantee that this will work - you are one person compared to their combined might and determination.
Two. You can cut the rope. This guarantees that you will save your brother, but dooms your best friends to death by train.
Three. You can walk in front of the train before they do. This has a 50-50 chance of scaring them out of their decision or encouraging them to go through with it.
Four. You can join them and walk in front of the train. Everyone dies, which is both good and bad. The good: there is no one left behind. The bad: there is no one left to be left behind in the first place.
What do you do?
-
…Maybe it’s nothing like the trolley problem at all.
The trolley problem is a thought experiment, a hypothetical. Really, there is no trolley, no tracks, no button, no lever, no easy way out. The options are far more than the two tracks given.
Life is not simple like that. Life is not hypothetical.
So let’s put it this way.
There’s you, two friends, and your brother.
Your friends are ready to kill themselves.
If they do, it’ll just be you and your brother left. Your brother will not take the news well. If he finds out that you knew about this, he may blame or pity you. There is a higher chance for pity. You think that’s worse than blame. If he doesn’t find out, he will blame himself. If he blames himself, he may stop doing everything, may start his slow process of killing himself all over again despite how you managed to pull him out of it last time. You cannot guarantee that you can pull him out of it again. In fact, you don’t think you can.
If you manage to physically stop your friends from killing themselves, be it through being there and physically stopping them or calling for help, there is nothing to stop them from trying again. The situation returns to the beginning and you have to do this all over again. You’re not quite sure you can do it all over again.
If you manage to convince your friends to not kill themselves, through the power of words and experience, everything will be good. The only issue is that you’ve never been good with words in the first place. Add to that that you’ve all changed so much, some part of you isn’t sure of what experiences are safe experiences to talk about, not anymore.
There’s no guaranteed way to save everyone, to fix the mess you’ve all dug yourself into.
What do you do?
-
.
.
.
.
.
-
(The answer is this. You do what you’ve always done. You try your best and maybe, just maybe, this time your best will be enough.)