Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Halimede was smiling, Neso noted, with his crooked teeth and long dreadlocks that always seemed to float around everywhere, unless tied. He was smiling, and honestly, Neso wanted to, too. Sao and S-2002 N5 were playing one of their oldest card games, from when Luna was still alive to give them earthling gifts. It was one of their most cherished items, and they miraculously survived this long. 

And Halimede laughed. It was maniacal and crazy, and Neso could see the tears in his eyes. She took a step forward, from where she was standing with Laomedeia. 

“We’re finally going to move on! We’re leaving this Solar System!” He proclaimed. Sao and N5 set down their cards, and most of the others turned their heads to him. Galatea, who was going around picking up their favorite asteroids from the remains of the Kuiper belt, began approaching Halimede instead. “Neptune is going to take us to that star just over there! We can finally be warm again! Oh, how I wish Triton were still here to see this!” 

Halimede pulled at his locks, a crazed expression on his face. A hush fell over them at the mention of their big brother. Galatea rushed forward, and pulled him close, their face solemn. They said that a hug was just a way to hide one’s face, and Galatea looked grief-stricken, torn, over who was mentioned. About who they were leaving behind.  

It had been billions of years, yet no one could say that they were over his death. The necklace Neso wore beneath all of the layers, the one made from a chunk of Triton’s remains, weighed heavier than normal. Neso still remembers the screaming, the terror all 15 of them felt, as they watched Triton put on a brave face as he was torn apart. 

Neptune doesn’t forgive himself. Neso doesn’t think he ever will. It's a common, unspoken understanding. From the way he doesn’t open his eyes often anymore, to the way he searches for a way to keep them all alive, for a new star to go to.  

He says they have a chance now. A closer star. For a new, better life, one that wasn’t so close to doom all the time. 

Neso knows Neptune values balance in the Solar System. That each orbit had a reason, and that they affected other ones too. The thing was, now that the Sun was losing mass, losing life , Neptune’s orbit, alongside all the other ones, were pushed out. Neptune calculated roughly how long they had left. Not long. And if they wanted to go, they had to go now. He’d explained this. 

And as Halimede sobbed into Galatea’s shoulder, Neptune turned around, from where he was staring at the new star, and used his gravity to pull Halimede in for a wordless hug. Triton’s rings hung above him like a sick veil, and Neso turned away. 

Neptune began to cradle Halimede, without words, just soft coos, and use his little tricks to put him to sleep. He hummed his little tune, tightened Halimede’s coat just a little more, and gently guided the stray floating locks back to his head. Neptune placed him in his scarf, and then opened his arms. 

Galatea floated up to Halimede, and nestled into the large scarf that trailed onto Neptune’s lap. N5 went up, and so did Naiad, Psamathe, and Despina, all settling inside of Neptune’s incredibly long coat. Larissa and Laomedeia sat on his left shoulder, Larissa preparing to untangle Laomedeia’s hair. Thalassa patted Hippocamp on the head, and moonhandled him all the way to Neptune to lay down. Nereid grabbed Proteus, who was probably half already asleep, and used all her strength and gravity to get him up, with Larissa and Laomedeia floating back down to assist her. 

Neso felt a tug on her outermost coat, and looked down to see S-2021 N1. N1 smiled her cheery smile, and looked out at Neptune. Neso followed their eyesight, and made eye contact with Neptune. He tilted his head a little, gesturing to his other, empty shoulder, and Neso nodded once. 

The familiar feeling of Neptune’s gravity hit the two outermost moons, and they were pulled forward. Sound filled the silence as a giggle escaped Neso’s lips, and N1 let out a loud, boisterous laugh that made Neso smile even wider. Neptune twirled them around with the precision that he always had with his gravity, and then gently set them down on his shoulder. 

The System was ending, but for now, they’d be fine.

They did their final preparations and errands. His moons went around, hastily grabbing last minute items, and whispering goodbyes. Neptune managed to wrangle his moons back to his orbit, then got them into their pocket inside his coat. Once they all managed to fall asleep, did he begin to leave. However, before he could pass through the remains of the Kuiper Belt, a wave of radiation hit him. It didn’t feel like the gentle warmth of his first orbit, this radiation didn’t feel so kind. It felt like pain. The pain of their star. Sun. 

As it passed through his body, he thought back to his cousin. He hoped Uranus was okay. Jupiter and Saturn were probably being fried, Neptune hopes they can escape the Sun with an orbital slingshot. Their pain must be worse than his own, but in the end, Neptune has decided to be selfish, and make the decision that has been plaguing his consciousness for millennia now. 

He had already told his moons — they had a right to know about his plan. They’d said their goodbyes to some of the various moons who normally hid in Uranus’ orbit with their planets. Saturn and Jupiter tended to spend their time around the Ice Giants’ orbits, making it generally safer to roam around for the moons, due to the extra gravity that could deflect more radiation. The final rocky planet roamed around sometimes, but mostly sat around with a glossy look in his eyes, staring at the Sun, sat next to Jupiter. 

They’d said their hushed goodbyes to the Uranian moons, and a few moons of Jupiter and Saturn. Neptune had made sure to hug the remaining planets a little tighter. Jupiter had rested an exhausted hand on his head, Saturn weakly carded through his hair, and Uranus gave a firm, but gentle hug, rocking Neptune along slightly, just as he did when they were still proto-planets. Mars got a ruffle in his hair, but he never responded. 

Neptune never told them he was leaving. And with great regret, he would never tell them to their face. 

As he carved down the final words of his letter of goodbye onto the rather sizable asteroid tablet he’d traded Hippocamp for, a heavy feeling settled in his core. He looked back to Sol, felt the radiation course through his atmosphere, he knew he couldn’t stay any longer. The pain coursed through him, and Neptune held back a wince. 

Jupiter had sworn to stay in the system, and without him, Saturn would never leave. Uranus mentioned something about a promise, after he’d gone after Planet W all those billions of years ago. Mars already didn’t seem like he even wanted his consciousness anymore at all within the Solar System.  

If Neptune stayed, his moons would be in danger, possibly worse than the current state of the Solar System. It was far too unstable. Even if Neptune would be able to protect them all the way until the Sun became a white dwarf, the damage would be done. And his moons would have to stay witness to a permanently burnt, old, dying , Solar System, that definitely wasn’t their home. And Neptune wasn’t sure he could call any more of this living. 

Neptune would miss Uranus, and he knows that he’ll be upset, but him wanting to stay with his cousin would not be worth the lives of his babies . Not after what happened to Triton. They’d get out of this situation. Somewhere worth surviving. Neptune squeezed his eyes shut. He tugged his outermost coat around himself, once he’d secured his moons to their respective place inside his coat. He pulled the strings shut, and tied it as well as he could. 

He took a deep breath, and began forward at the fastest speed he could go at.  

It admittedly, was not really fast. He was the slowest of the planets, and now needed to cross the largest distance he’d ever traveled outside his orbit. 

Keep going onwards, for his moons which he loved so much. He would miss Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and especially Uranus, but that wasn’t as important right now. They’d made their decisions, and Neptune had made his. He must keep going in the direction of that star. He cannot lose his mind. 

Nearly 300,000 Earth years, it would take him to escape the Oort cloud, he calculated at some point. His moons wouldn’t really notice that, however, because they were all asleep, and would hopefully stay that way until they got there. Neptune would never wish his loneliness on anyone else. He could handle it. Besides, it was insanely cold out here in the Oort cloud, even colder than before the sun stopped fusing hydrogen in his core. 

His form began to ache after some time, pain radiating through his inner atmosphere. It was weak, and so Neptune didn’t pay much mind and ignored it. He tended to be pretty good at that. 

Some unknown time later, probably closer to the start of his mission, Neptune had begun refusing to even spare a glance back long enough to do some mental math on how far he’s traveled. He had managed to scrape together another layer for his already thick outfit to combat the cold, and the various pieces of matter that kept hitting him out in the Oort cloud. Keep going. Forward. Onward. For his moons. 

And keep going onwards. Clearing the larger chunks of ice in his path, keeping his moons safe, trying to not capture anything in his orbit. He was good with his gravity, he would be fine. Neptune began snagging random chunks of small rocks for them to play with.  

And onwards. Remove this rock, push through the pebbles and smaller asteroids. Neptune was fairly sure he was gaining a little bit of mass from the matter that he couldn’t remove from his path, but he probably would be fine. Neptune misses Uranus.  

Darkness enveloped everything, besides the close star, and Neptune now began relying less on sight and more on gravity. Feel the pull. Follow it. Neptune gave a tug on the star’s gravity, but he doubted the star felt it, because he didn’t even feel the star pull back slightly. 

Onwards. For his moons. He would miss the others. Not the point. Keep going. Don’t lose your mind. Keep going. Distance can decrease. He just needs to keep going. 

Math. Neptune could do math! It would keep him sane. Make them into stories, preserve his knowledge that way, as he kept forward to his star. 

Neptune began crafting stories, lovely stories, about numbers. 

0, the powerful ruler, 

1, the fastest runner,  

2, the most beautiful , 

3, the liveliest , 4, the adventurous . They mixed together in his mind. Weird. 

5, the explorer, 

6, the one who looked over everyone, 

7, the one who stood beside 6, 

8, the sensible ,  

9, the historian painter,  

Who was 10 again? 

He was almost there. He would be there soon. To the light. To the source of the gravity.  He was almost there. 

Or was he? 

The recent expanse he had covered was likely very small, and Neptune had never been good at keeping track of time. He wanted to rest. He had to keep going. 

Onwards. Moons. Important. Go to light. Do not lose your mind. 

Do not lose your mind.  

Do not lose your mind.  

His name is Neptune.  

He has nineteen- sixteen? No, fifteen, moons. Their names are Triton , Proteus, Larissa, Despina, Galatea, Halimede, Psamathe, Nereid, Thalassa, Naiad, Laomedeia, Sao, Neso, S-2002 N5, and S-2021 N1, and a few others he couldn’t remember the names of.  

He had a cousin, named Uranus. He liked to paint. Uranus was not with him, going to the light. Neptune left him behind. His moons are too important to lose. Neptune is escaping something, so he must keep heading towards that star.  

Neptune took a deep breath. He was taking his moons to a new star, for a better existence. Not an existence where they were constantly at threat of being fried alive. Not an existence that relied on their host planet getting hit by radiation so they wouldn’t instantly melt.  

His star went by the names Sol and Sun, and he used to go by Helios once, Neptune recalls, a long time ago. The remaining planets were Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus. 

Neptune was currently in the Oort cloud surrounding their system. After leaving it, he would be able to go to the closest star, which was the light in front of him, and the source of the gravity he could feel if he focused. 

The rings that clouded his vision were the remains of Triton, who was his moon, but before that, a dwarf planet. Neptune missed Triton. His sunglasses were currently sewn into his second undermost coat, the one sitting just above the one that he hadn’t removed since he first swapped orbits with Uranus back when they were new Ice Giants. They sat next to the little clothes and toys he had been saving for his earliest moons, before the.. Accident. He thought back to the old times, the memories he’d regained over the years. 

His orbit, the first one, had the softest of warmth, the gentlest form. Neptune appreciated the fact that he’d regained the memory of that. Maybe, just maybe, the orbit he’ll get will have this too. Still cold enough to keep his moons cold, but maybe with the gentle heat that Neptune was sure that stars could emit. 

Neptune continued on with revitalized motivation and energy. 

Neptune was constantly calculating now. It somewhat worked at keeping his brain sharp, but he was 56.899991% sure he was thinking in binary half the time. He wasn’t sure what that said about his sanity. 

How did Sedna even do it? Speaking of Sedna, he was pretty sure she was long gone, he hadn’t encountered her at all, nor felt any trace of her gravity before entering the Oort cloud, and he hadn’t been able to find a dwarf planet out here with gravity that felt like hers. Most dwarf planets that were out here had either fled, or were eternally asleep. Neptune had the urge to grab a few to take to the new system, but the idea that if the entire plan goes haywire and they get killed and/or disturb his moon system made it feel like much too great a risk. 

Neptune had been weaving and sewing with his mixture of ice, methane, and dust from broken asteroids. He never truly did stop moving, though. His cape had begun getting more and more layers. It had been an old hobby, collecting trinkets and scrap fabric, and sewing it into his incredibly long, elaborately folded (for easy movement), cape. 

He’d improved his control over his gravity even more, and now began carefully moving larger objects in front of him, instead of blindly going through and potentially causing collisions. There were already so many risks to any celestial body’s existence currently, he did not need to be another reason. He needed to be even more careful than normal. 

Sao was safe. That was the first thing he noted, alongside the steady sound of Neptune’s atmosphere, whooshing by at slightly slower than normal, but still with incredibly fast winds. 

The next thing he noticed was that S-2002 N5 was drooling on him. Ew. 

Sao moved his little brother over, moving him so most of his mass is leaning onto the bottom of the pouch. That was the third thing he noticed. They were all in the part of Neptune’s coat he designated for his moons to sleep in. It was essentially a humongous pocket, and his host planet tended to take them all around in it whenever taking them all together across longer distances. 

Sao looked over at all of his siblings, all in their proper places, all of them slumped around the middle, where the fabric was eternally strained from Triton’s weight being pressed into the fabric every time he traveled with them. He turned away. 

Triton would never come back to fill that place in the pocket, to weigh down the entire pocket and make everyone slide towards him. He wouldn’t be there to warm them slightly with his cryovolcanism.  

Sao leaned back into Laomedeia’s curly hair. She probably wouldn’t mind him using her as a pillow. Besides, she was basically laying on top of Naiad, she could not be complaining. 

Although Neptune didn’t really tell them the moment they were leaving that they were departing, Sao knew that they were currently not exactly in any orbit closer than Sedna, or that Goblin person that they also called Lele , who had been mentioned by some of the dwarf planets (before they’d started sleeping for hundreds of millions of years at a time). 

Sao sighed, and rummaged through his messenger bag. It was packed with everything Sao owned, and the rest, of course, was sown into his jacket and scarf. It was practically a tradition at this point, for them, and any other trans-Neptunian objects, to weave, braid, or sew things into hair, clothing, or even their own form to keep it with them and safe as they traveled around the Sun. 

Sao suspects Triton had either picked it up from or been taught by Neptune to sew, before going on and passing it onto him and the others. Anything that he didn’t teach them, they all went to Neptune for help. Besides, he wasn’t quite around anymore to show him. 

He landed on his crochet hook he’d made out of an asteroid a few millennia back, and the scarf he was making to use in a trade with Nereid. She tended to make small, really cool gadgets from asteroids, and spent a lot of time making them. He also had a cape he was making for Larissa in there; they had been planning to trade the cape for his hair being done, and some embroidery on his outer jacket. 

He couldn’t really trade with Violenta or any other of Uranus’ moons for sculptures, sketches, or recollection tablets (used to store histories and memories), because they’d left them behind now. Sao would miss them a lot. Remembering Violenta’s demise, due to the radiation and instability, and then the accident, Sao frowned and pulled out his yarn. 

Many, many moons had been melting or been combusted by radiation. Mainly small ones, or ones that were made of more unstable elements. Their host planet could try and deflect radiation away and preserve them for much longer, but often, it didn’t change their fate. It made Sao’s core ache, and it was a sheer wonder that they were all mostly alive. Much of Jupiter and Saturn’s small moons hadn’t survived the onslaught of radiation, and many moons had lost mass to melting elements and the matter floating away due to low gravity. 

Moons like Ms. Europa, with large oceans covering her, once had ice, back when they were much younger. Titania always seemed incredibly exhausted, even more so than back when they were still child moons. By the time Triton began to show signs of crashing into Neptune, he had gotten incredibly close with Titania, almost like siblings. When he died, it absolutely crushed her, and deeply upset more of the Uranian moons. 

Sao was by no means a poet, like some of the Uranian moons were, and wasn’t great with flowery words, but the fact that grief painted everyone’s souls was nearly a fact. 

Mr. Io had visited them often, and he was the only one out of the Galilean moons to be able to move so much outside their orbits, because of him losing the least mass to radiation. Ms. Europa tended to be asleep a lot, with Ganymede and Callisto awake about the same amount. Although Io could visit them often, the visits were short, because his presence was important for strengthening Jupiter’s magnetic field and helping protect his fellow moons. 

Due to how much radiation was located in their orbits, none of the planets really ever actually stayed in their orbits, and instead stayed around Uranus and Neptune’s orbits. Saturn and Jupiter didn’t really move, Miss Rhea told them it was because the radiation hurt . Sao wondered if Neptune also hurt too. 

None of the Neptunian moons really ever went past where Saturn sits, it was too dangerous, and instead wrote to the moons who couldn’t really move out of their orbits around Jupiter. Sao mentioned leaving in his last letter, and Ms. Europa told him to go, and to not feel unsure. Sao would still miss her terribly. 

In fact, Sao would miss everyone terribly. 

Sao was glad his siblings weren’t awake to fret over him, because he could feel the tears welling in his eyes. Neptune was still heading forward at the same speed, and Sao was thankful, because it was a relatively smooth ride. I thought the Oort cloud had a lot of objects in it?  

He let himself recede into his mind, and let himself weep. 

Sao fell back asleep soon after. 

Proteus woke up multiple times during the trip. 

The first time, it was hazy, and Neptune began humming to put him back to sleep. He must’ve used those planet senses Proteus swore he had. It may have been that, or perhaps it was the fact that he accidentally rolled over Thalassa, who was wearing her beloved… err… Ursula coat. She had really loved that Earthling tale that Luna had told him about. Proteus missed Luna’s head pats. 

The second time, it was still kind of foggy in his memory, but he remembers looking around, hearing Sao sniffle, curled up. He was pretty sure Sao was asleep, but before he could get over to that part of his pile of siblings, Neptune was humming the song he did to put them to sleep, and Proteus ultimately failed to reach him. 

The third time, however, it was sharply clear. 

Proteus woke up. His mind felt groggy, yet the cold that had begun to seep in made him feel incredibly aware. He was at one of the walls of the pocket. Hippocamp was snuggled up on him. Proteus leaned his head against the tough fabric of the pocket, staring at ceiling studded with shined asteroids. They were supposed to look like stars, according to Nereid. The awareness made time seem to stretch, and he took this time to think back, back to a time a long time ago. 

Planet X. Would they see him again in this new solar system? Proteus wasn’t sure if he wanted to see him again. He never really did ask if he’d changed, if Jupiter knew where he went. He was sure it would be too awkward to ask Jupiter, and if he was being honest, he was mildly afraid of him. 

He kind of wishes he did, before Jupiter started passing out and sleeping for millennia. 

Proteus lightly shook his head, and better adjusted Hippocamp, who was resting with his head on his lap. Galatea lightly snored from their place on his shoulder, with one hand carding through Halimede’s hair. Their other hand held onto Hippocamp. 

Hippocamp’s legs rested on Larissa’s, and she laid on a pillow leaning against Naiad, who was being turned into a bed by Laomedeia, who was sprawled over him, having Sao leaned back into her hair, using it as a cushion. N5 curled up on Sao. 

Despina, Neso, N1, and Psamathe were a strange pile of limbs, snoozing in the middle of the pile. Psamathe lay next to Hippocamp, clinging to the hand that wasn’t holding Galatea. Neso was propped up on at least three pillows, with N1 strewn across the top of them. Pretty much one wrong move, and N1 would likely fall down onto Nereid, whom Proteus was assuming was behind the pile. 

Proteus sighed contentedly. He knew that it wouldn’t be much longer until the Sun went supernova, and Proteus didn’t want to be here for that. He wanted more time with his siblings, his family. The radiation had only been getting worse, and Proteus had nearly melted completely on multiple different occasions. 

And it hurt . 

Proteus wouldn’t wish it on any of his siblings, and the supernovas they’d witnessed over the years seemed especially painful too. 

Proteus remembers hearing the Sun scream. His screams were guttural and raw, and Proteus felt sympathy for him, but ultimately would never risk approaching or soothing his cries. He was much too small, and he would surely die. 

Would Triton have taken that risk? Would he have gone on, and accomplished what he wanted despite the fear of death? Proteus wasn’t sure. Neptune no longer had any major moons, and no matter how much he wanted to ask Titania, who’d likely have an answer, it felt too personal and he didn’t want to upset her. 

Mentally, he sometimes called her, “big sister.” Proteus wonders what Triton would’ve thought about that. 

Proteus mentally smacked himself. He needed to stop thinking so much into the past. 

He then thought to the cold air currently assaulting his face and smiled. The future would likely be bright. Neptune would take them safely, and the light would be here soon. 

What would the future bring? Maybe Despina may begin to sing with Laomedeia, and Proteus smiled even bigger. They’d be fine. 

The barrage of negatives, the thoughts that dragged him down, lingered, and yet, Proteus would try his hardest to fight them off. He could tell his siblings were already drowning in their own pains, and to be a place to lean on, he couldn’t let himself break. He was now the largest moon, and he needed to act like it. 

Life with their new star would be fine. Proteus was sure of it. 

Proteus would make sure of it. 

N1 was cold. Cold in a way she was sure she’d never felt before. 

She blinked her eyes open and looked around. She was surprisingly still on the pillow tower. Now, how was she to get down? 

She cursed under her breath, then guiltily snapped up, and looked around the room, internally begging none of her siblings to hear. They always referred to her as the ‘baby’ of their system, they’d probably lose their shit if they heard her curse. 

Now that she was sitting up, she merely slipped down onto the “floor” of the pocket they inhabited. Neptune had specifically designed this pocket for them, and she was grateful. It was a nice pocket for them, and especially considering that he’s much larger than them, it was surprising how much detail was put in. It was less of a pocket and more of a fanny pack on a jacket, though. 

She then, at this moment, remembered that she was a celestial object and could float around. Oops. She sighed and thought about what Neptune was doing outside. Did he need someone to talk to? How long has it been since they left? 

N1 began crawling out of the pouch, and then realized that she’d need to navigate the absolute MAZE the inside of his outfit tended to be. She closed it up with all her strength, gripped onto the fabric wall, and spoke. 

“Neptune?” 

Neptune briefly slowed down, making N1 hold on tighter to the sides of the jacket. Normally, Neptune would leave a hole cut out for his moons to look out of, but this time, he dubbed it too dangerous. 

“..01001110 00110001?” Neptune’s voice was softer and hoarser than normal, clearly from disuse. And was that binary ? 

“Neptune, I’m not Psamathe! I can’t speak binary!” N1 replied to the slew of numbers, that after a bit of processing and recalling Psamathe’s lessons, was quite literally just, ‘N1.’ 

“..Hmmm.... N1?” Neptune this time spoke in the language that was spoken in the Solar System, one that had branched off of Earthling dialects. It wasn’t quite what they spoke back when the.. Human Earthlings prospered on his surface though. The celestial bodies adapted and the language evolved. 

“Yes?” 

“Do you need anything? Do you have any questions?” Neptune asked, voice gentle. N1 had always appreciated his gentleness. That aspect of his personality always made her smile. She didn’t need anything, so N1 thought of what to ask. She had a lot of questions, yet none of them seemed right . 

“What does it look like out there?” 

Neptune paused, likely thinking on what he wanted to say, before his voice filled the void, the only other noise being Hippocamp snoring and the winds of Neptune’s atmosphere whipping by. “Well,” He drawled, letting out a giggle. “There’s a lot of ice, water, and methane out here!” He paused, before adding on, “It’s like those clouds and storms you sometimes see on my surface, yet for Celestial Bodies!” 

N1 flapped her hands excitedly. It sounded pretty cool, if she would say so herself. And she thinks she is pretty cool, so her opinions must mean something , right? 

“That’s so cool!! Please, please, please grab me any cool asteroids you find!” Those cool asteroids could definitely go in her remaining collection of trinkets (she regrettably had to leave quite a few behind, the total weight would’ve been a LOT, and N1 wants the space for stuff from the new system, of course!). 

“Alrighty! I’ll be sure to grab a few for you!” N1 internally cheered at the great success this was for her collection. It would’ve been extremely unlikely Neptune would say no, especially for things like this, but it was the essence of the matter, you know? 

She twirled around, and did her very best not to fall, considering the fact that they were still traveling at a consistent pace, and succeeded. “Thank you so, so, so much!!” 

Shortly after that, N1 may have gone on a short(?) yapping session on which kinds of asteroids interest her most. 

She ended it with the final conclusion that she likes M-type the most, and with Neptune giggling at her (peak) humor. 

N1 loved talking to Neptune. His presence was steady, and he was great at conversing with her. He also had a lot of knowledge, which contrasted what many celestials thought of him, especially billions of years ago. She always learned something new, and she appreciated that. 

Neptune began talking about some of his experiences with asteroids, and going into detail on how they look out there, but for some reason, N1 felt her eyes droop. She fought to stay awake, but ended up slumped on the fabric wall, dozing off. Neptune quieted down, words hushing to resonating whispers. The fast winds that could always be heard so close to him faded to background noise. 

Soon after, either due to her now-tired mind, or Neptune nudging her with his gravity, she stumbled her form back inside the pocket where the other moons slept, and she went back to sleep in the pile. Not before shutting up Hippocamp, though. He’d be fine (probably). 

Hippocamp tended to dream a lot. 

Awake and asleep, and everywhere in between, Violenta once told him. That’s when he dreamed. 

The people he once knew tended to fill some of his dreams. He used to keep Dream Guides sewn into his clothes after Neptune taught him how to thread asteroid tablets into his jacket, especially when he was a young moon. The dreams of destroyed bodies used to be relatively empty, mostly just figures he didn’t really know enough about to see clearly, he presumed. 

A few notable figures he did meet, and had met regularly since the system stabilized, were Chrysalis, Theia, and a still unnamed one. He’d known about Chrysalis before she was destroyed, so he figured out her name first. Next was Theia, whom he learnt the name of during that battle with Planet X, which damaged his elder brother’s mental health badly, injured his eldest brother, and also traumatized all of them. The last one didn’t get a name, but had described Uranus on multiple different occasions. 

It was few and far between that he dreamed of destroyed people, but when he did , they felt real. And Hippocamp liked to believe that they were. 

And then Triton got turned into rings. His biggest brother. The guy he looked up to, so, so much. Hippocamp watched as he painfully tried putting on a brave face as he was torn apart to death. Hippocamp proceeded to pass out. On the spot. 

He didn’t dream at all whilst passed out. It was dreamless despair, words like that sounded like something Violenta would say. Hippocamp, however, didn’t have any words for what happened. At least not at the moment. 

When he did wake up, however, it was to the sound of many voices’ echoing sobs. He looked up to Neptune, a few ways away, looking torn on holding his moons, or screaming.  

Hippocamp, instead of comforting his siblings, merely went back to sleep. This was all just a dream. He’d wake up in the right place next time.  

This was all a dream. 

Hippocamp let himself fall asleep again. 

Hippocamp sat up. Everything was blurry, yet he could make out Triton in the distance. 

“Triton!” He shouted, his whole form put into making sure he could hear him. There he was, over there, talking with some other moons. He couldn’t really tell who they were, though. Hippocamp wasn’t really paying attention, more focused on the fact that Triton was there. It was all just a dream, all of the suffering, everything. 

In the distance, he could see the shapes outlining his world he’d made in his mind. Colors and shapes, and everything he could think of, floating in the background. He’d made characters and creatures and everything for it, and Triton was walking towards it. It seemed rather distorted, though. 

Before he could question it, relief flooded his senses, and he collapsed to the floor. Triton didn’t notice. Hippocamp looked back up, and Triton began turning around, but before he could see his face, he fell asleep. 

Hippocamp next awoke in the void. It was lonely, and he couldn’t really make out any planets in the distance, no matter how much he squinted. He brushed off invisible space dust, and took in his surroundings. It looked like Neptune’s orbit. Just as he was figuring out where exactly in his orbit he was, Hippocamp heard a voice. 

“Hippocamp?” It sounded like Triton. Hippocamp spun around, towards the Kuiper belt, where Triton floated a few ways away. Hippocamp ran up to him. 

“..Triton!” He shouted, just like he had last time. Maybe the other moons were somewhere else, and Triton was here to take him back to them! 

Hippocamp was only a few kilometers away from him now. He was thankful for his fast speed. 

Three more. Hippocamp’s chest felt oddly heavy. 

Two more. He could surprise him like usual when he saw him! 

One more. He just knew that Triton liked to see him when he launched himself at him. 

Hippocamp craned his head upward to see Triton’s face right before he hurled himself at him for a hug. 

There was no one there. 

Hippocamp skidded to a stop. “Triton?” He called out. “..Big brother? Where did you go?” He hugged himself, looking around. The void was silent. Logically, he’d be fine. Triton should be still in the area, he’d be fine looking for his siblings himself. Still, Hippocamp felt oddly unsettled, anxiety growing. 

Before long, he started to grow desperate. He couldn’t feel Triton’s gravity anywhere near him. He, however, was stubborn, and kept searching, even as the asteroids he passed felt like the ones he’d passed earlier. Even until the feeling of sleep washed over him. 

Hippocamp woke up again. It didn’t really feel like he was in his body, but he was there, hearing Laomedeia cry with Psamathe, rocking back and forth. 

“He’s never coming back. He’s never coming back!!” And one of them was shouting. Hippocamp couldn’t breathe. That wasn’t right. Triton went into the Kuiper Belt! He’s just over there! He may just be playing Dungeons and Dwarf Planets with the Dwarf Planets and Miss Charon! 

They must be talking about someone else. Hippocamp kept listening, extending out a hand, fingers brushing one of their coats. 

“Triton’s dead, why did he have to die?” The other replied, but Hippocamp couldn’t really make sense of it. 

“Triton’s not dead,” Hippocamp whispered, breathlessly. Moons didn’t need to breathe, yet it was the sense of the matter. Laomedeia and Psamathe turned to look at him. Hippocamp pulled back his hand.

“Hippocamp?” Psamathe called. “What are you talking about?” 

“He’s not dead,” Hippocamp repeated, looking at them with a confused face. What were they talking about? They’re the ones who are wrong. Hippocamp just saw Triton. “I just saw him. He’s not gone.” 

“You saw him get torn apart! What are you talking about?” Another nearby moon replied, and Hippocamp couldn’t make out who because dreams were coming back to him, things that never happened. Flashes as the real world and the fake one came back to him in this sickly nightmare. 

“That didn’t happen! Triton is alive !” Hippocamp retorted. They needed to understand. They were wrong ! He scratched and tore at his outer jacket, backing away. The extra cold didn’t ease the confusion.  

“Triton is gone! Please accept that!” Someone began prying his hands away from his jacket. He didn’t let them. The hands didn’t really feel like Psamathe or Laomedeia. They were wrong. Triton was alive. 

Their hands were bigger than the other Neptunian moons that weren’t Triton, yet smaller than his. They were still obviously a major moon, however. They tried scooping him up, yet Hippocamp couldn’t bear to be hugged. They were all wrong. Triton was alive! He was alive, Hippocamp swore. 

He blinked the blurriness that began washing over him away, and he could almost feel , just feel, the gravity of Triton nearby. He almost couldn’t feel all of the other celestial bodies nearby, just him. He was right there. His jacket, his cape, he could see the patches they all helped sew onto his cape, the sparkly beads Hippocamp sewed into his patch. That was Triton. No one else. 

He clawed his way out of the major moon-sized grip, and pushed past some of his siblings. Triton was right there! He was right there! Hippocamp was correct. He could see him there, his back turned to him. 

“He’s over there!” Hippocamp’s voice didn’t sound right. It was raspy from disuse, and the cloudy feeling was back in his head. A sure sign he was dreaming. That surely means he’s dreaming of all of the people trying to stop him. 

Hippocamp freed himself, and despite the shouting coming from behind him, he went towards Triton, and once more, Triton turned around. This time, he was awake to see his face. 

It was shattered, broken, and pieces of it were missing. Triton gave him a pained, weak smile, and those dreams – they weren’t real, Hippocamp still insisted, began coming back to him. He shut his eyes, yet they were still there, burnt into his mind, and he could still see Triton in front of him. Half destroyed. When he opened his eyes, however, Triton was gone. 

Hippocamp turned around, painfully empty. His eyes were wide, and the water near his eyes was beginning to freeze. His siblings, some of the Uranian moons, and even Mister Io and Miss Callisto were there. There was pity on some of their faces, and some of them looked away. He could see the dwarf planets arriving too. 

That moment was long ago, before the Sun expanded and their orbit went much farther from him. Before being small or made of mostly volatile elements posed a large threat to your existence. Looking back to Neptune, and in fact, a few other of his siblings, he supposed that psychotic breaks came from family. That was an earthling concept, right?  

Hippocamp was doing much better nowadays. Dreams weren’t really reality, and he used them less to escape reality than he did as a young moon. Proteus didn’t need to drag him places as often anymore, and the time in the real world did him well. Hippocamp instead specialized in making asteroid tablets, which were the basis of one of the more common writing systems in the solar system. 

It was a fulfilling job, even if many moons in the Solar System did make tablets. Hippocamp had also been embroidering beads into his outer jacket, but that was on and off. What he had been learning was the systems of language and writing of trans-Neptunian Celestials. Some of the Celestial bodies outside of what was the Kuiper belt had begun to teach him some of the many ways of braiding to keep history. It was fun for him to do, and also brought him closer to quite a few of the Uranian moons, who tended to enjoy linguistics, record keeping, and history.  

Of course, he couldn’t really do that any longer. Instead, he was in the part of Neptune’s coat designated for holding moons as he traveled, asleep. He was in his dream world, but on the outskirts. 

The more Hippocamp looked around, the more he realized that he was in one of those dreams where the dead became alive. As more and more celestials did perish, the void did begin to fill. And so, in the sea of corpses, Hippocamp swam. 

He scanned the area. So, so, so, many of the small, irregular moons he grew up with. He hadn’t had one of these dreams in a while, but generally, he tended to look for Violenta, Chrysalis, Phoebe, and Metis. Cressida and Desdemona, former moons of Uranus, tended to be easy to find, too. If he was lucky, he’d be able to find the unnamed planet he’d met during some of his first dreams, the one that earthlings tended to call “Uranus Impactor” back when they were still around. And if he was really lucky, he might just see him . 

Hippocamp weaved through the sea of blurry figures, looking around. He wouldn’t find Triton here. Perhaps he was, in fact, in the mob of bygone people, maybe Hippocamp never truly looked hard enough, all of those years since his biggest brother’s death. He hadn’t seen him once, not since the hallucinations. Hippocamp doesn’t know if that was for the best or not. 

“..Hippocamp?” Violenta. 

“Violenta!” Hippocamp whipped around, and made eye contact with the silhouette with a face, who looked like Violenta, and if Hippocamp didn’t know better, he’d say there was no difference between the Violenta in front of him and the Violenta he knew before she’d melted. Still, he smiled and hugged her. 

He phased through her, but today, the memory was solid enough to somewhat hug her correctly. “How are you doing?” Hippocamp asked. Violenta grinned. 

“I’m well! I’m hoping you are swell!” Violenta had always loved to rhyme. Hippocamp had always loved to laugh. Violenta looked around, before grabbing Hippocamp’s hand and tugging. 

“Follow me!” She continued, now pulling him through the crowd, and towards his city in the distance. The mob of souls had begun moving into the gardens and main area of the city, though. 

Violenta was destroyed pretty recently, and honestly, Hippocamp had almost seen her as a sibling before she was gone. Especially in the last few billion years, many of the Neptunian moons had gotten closer with the Uranian moons, and he was no exception. 

Hippocamp had to lean down slightly to grab onto her, and he let her tug him around with her gravity, weaving through the masses of shadows and particles. 

She was humming something, and it was strangely loud. The sound of it rose above the shadows, who were eerily quiet. This happened sometimes, and Hippocamp knew they were still representing celestials, because if he focused on them, he could see who they were. Who they used to be. 

Not after long, Violenta dragged him towards a clearing in the garden of asteroids, made to mimic what Hippocamp remembered life looked like. She turned around to stare at him. She always had big eyes that shimmered in the minimal light that tended to reach her, yet right now, they seemed a tad bit muted. Hippocamp had long accepted that these dreams didn’t truly have the people he once knew, yet it still stung a bit, and Hippocamp halted briefly after he noticed it. 

Violenta froze in response, before looking down and sighing. She turned away and floated down a little. “I know I’m just a charade, masquerading to be who I was, the person who always stayed.” Hippocamp nearly replied something, anything, in an attempt to soothe her, that it was fine that she wasn’t real, and that he didn’t care, but he did . He did care. “But I’m not, Hippocamp. I’m not alive, and I’m not by yours – or anyone’s side anymore. I’m dead.” 

“Hippocamp, keep remembering me. That is the only way I can stay.” Violenta wasn’t rhyming anymore. Hippocamp wasn’t laughing either. 

“Take my memory with you, take it to wherever you are going. Take it so that the piece of myself I gave you can feel gentle warmth and a new life again.” Hippocamp choked. He would. He would swear he would out loud, but she spoke again, and Hippocamp always tended to listen more than speak in their conversations.  

“Take my memory with you.” She repeated. And it felt less real than normal.  

“Take my memory with you, Hippocamp," she repeated once more. He felt hands on his shoulders, and before he could figure out who grabbed him, Desdemona spoke. 

“Take my memory with you.” Hippocamp’s mouth felt dry but he still managed to force out a strangled string of words. 

“..I- Of course I will! I’d never- leave any of you behind!” Hippocamp couldn’t breathe. There was someone to his right now, and they were repeating the same sentence. 

There was Cressida, and then Cupid and Belinda, who both crashed into each other back when they were all young, appeared in the corner of his vision, and then Phoebe’s voice, distinct to him in a way few voices were to Hippocamp, and Metis, whose voice was powerful and strong, despite her size. And then there were so many other voices, and Hippocamp couldn’t get anything out of his mouth. They all asked for the same thing. 

He needed to escape. He needed the dream to end. He needed to leave. All just a dream. All just a dream. All just a dream. Hippocamp squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to get out of here. 

“Does that mean you’ll leave me?”  

The voice was gravelly, deep, and tired. 

And it sounded so, so, so much like him.  

Hippocamp’s eyes blew wide, now looking around for him. He was always weak to hope. 

As his eyes focused, he noticed there was no one around anymore. The gravities of the others were far away, except for one. He wasn’t in the garden either. Just the void. The familiar orbit of Neptune, except not exactly how it was currently. A little more gentle. Colder, less radiation. 

Hippocamp was standing in the Kuiper belt. He was looking out at the asteroids and such that floated around, and his body faced the Oort cloud, and what lay beyond. He could see the close star, their light. 

The larger body of gravity was behind him. He just had to turn around. 

Hippocamp sharply inhaled, before spinning to face the Sun. 

Instead of the beams of minimal light that tended to reach Neptune’s orbit, Hippocamp was eclipsed by a larger body. Obviously large enough to be a major moon. Larger than the dwarf planets, smaller than all of the Galilean moons. Gravity didn’t feel like Titania’s, stronger. He craned his head upwards, wishing, praying, to anyone in the vast void, that this was who Hippocamp thought he was. 

Loose curls, going on waves. Sort of similar to Pluto’s hair, but a little curlier. Still not as curly as the majority of the Neptunian moons’ hair. Cryovolcanoes, and a messy shave. Sunglasses hanging from his shirt collar. He forced his eyes back up at his face. 

Hippocamp stared into the eyes of the figure in front of him. 

Triton. 

Hippocamp was face to face with a dead celestial. The same celestial that disliked being referred to as a moon for a long while, and was ultimately destroyed because in the end, he was one. The very same celestial that had always protected him, from the moment Hippocamp’s consciousness arose, to the moment he couldn’t any longer. Until the moment he was.. Destroyed. 

Hippocamp was looking at someone who had always cared for him, the same one who held him when all he knew was the language all celestials intrinsically knew . Triton’s voice always was higher pitched and gentler when he spoke in that language, Hippocamp recalled. Funnily enough, it also eerily sounded like Neptune’s voice when both of them spoke it. Nobody really ever pointed it out, but Triton was Neptune’s moon in the same way they all were too. In some ways, Hippocamp felt he was more similar to Neptune than himself. 

Triton never really loved to associate with Neptune, especially in Hippocamp’s earlier memories. Even right until he died, they weren’t the closest, despite their relationship improving. He still, however, sat with the rest of the moons in Neptune’s lap, him sitting up as he slept, and trying his hardest to keep some level of awareness. 

He never really did succeed, however, because Neptune tended to be more firm on the idea that he should get rest and that he could watch over all of them instead. Hippocamp was grateful for that. 

He was face to face with the very same body who guided him around for much of his life, the one he would, and did , follow into war. 

“Triton.” It was more of a statement. Hippocamp was unsure whether he should pretend it was real or not, because of the fear of being hurt once more. Then again, this Triton’s face was uncovered, and unshattered. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t go sideways. 

Triton gave him back a small smile, the fond yet discreet kind that he always did towards the other moons when they got into mischief. 

“Hippocamp,” He replied, not in the standard language of the times he died in, but the mother tongue of all celestials. Triton opened his arms, and gave him a weak tug with his gravity. 

Ultimately, Hippocamp was a weak, weak moon, because he abandoned the idea of calling out the fakery, and let himself be pulled in by Triton for a hug. 

And Hippocamp was crying. He was crying those big, ugly tears, and wailing into Triton’s chest. He sobbed even more when he realized that Triton’s gravity didn’t really feel like it used to, now feeling faint and farther away. 

Triton steadily patted his back, smoothing down Hippocamp’s cape.  

Hippocamp hadn’t really cried when he realized Triton was dead. Hippocamp cried when he remembered that he was never, ever, getting his eldest brother back. 

Triton was in front of him, he was being held in his arms, yet he wasn’t real. He’d never be back. Hippocamp saw him die. 

Triton pulled back after a while, and leaned down. Hippocamp looked into his eyes. They were foggy, and lacked the shine that they sometimes had when he was facing the Sun. He ruffled his hair and took a step back. Hippocamp nearly chased after him, but ultimately decided it would be too much pain to try and believe once more. 

“Hippocamp.” He addressed, in similar fashion to how Hippocamp addressed him. Hippocamp wrapped his own arms around himself and looked up at him. “You’re leaving.” 

Hippocamp couldn’t get any words out of his mouth. Instead, he nodded in confirmation. The dream was probably ending. He needed to hug him one last time. Hippocamp stepped forward, rigidly, and yet desperation flooded his body, alongside painful dread. 

“I know this will probably sound sappy,” Triton began, and Hippocamp paused as Triton inched closer. “But just so you know, I’ll always be with you.” 

“Right here,” Triton nudged his chest, the side with the small, ever so tiny chunk of Triton that he’d saved and sewn into his coat. His fingers weren’t warm like they used to be, all those years ago. Hippocamp needed to stop noticing things. It made him too sad. Before he could blurt out something equally as sappy, Triton poked his head and tacked on, “Oh and here too. You sure do love to dream.” 

Triton looked into his eyes, and Hippocamp’s eyes were regrettably blurry. He blinked his eyes to clear the tears, but when he opened them, he was gone. 

Where was he? It seemed like the real world, considering the cold, cold feeling of the void was something his dreams couldn’t exactly replicate to its fullest. Hippocamp felt painfully awake, and stared at the ceiling of what he supposed was the travel pocket. They were going somewhere. Where were they going again– oh. Yeah.  

Out of the Solar System. Leaving behind their memories, friends, family . Hippocamp could still feel Triton’s finger poking him in the chest, and the piece of him he’d saved felt oddly heavy. Hippocamp felt mildly comforted by the idea that Triton would literally be with him wherever he went now. The idea that he would stay with him in his dreams, however, comforted him a lot more. Still, his eyes were glassy with tears, and his face felt warm despite the inherent cold that tended to be everywhere in space, and honestly all he wanted to do was curl up and cry. 

So, Hippocamp did just that. He sniffled, and silently cried for a while, and never really noticed how Proteus had absentmindedly begun carding his hands through his hair while he was asleep. Hippocamp’s eyes eventually weighed heavy, and they finally fell shut. 

Hippocamp fell into a dreamless slumber. 

Galatea was groggy. Their braids smacked their face, packing quite a punch considering the amount of stuff they had Despina braid in. Tablets, small asteroids, beads, small carvings of self portraits they had other moons do, and so much other stuff. Halimede called it junk, but Galatea called it pieces of home.  

They were pretty sure that Hippocamp had cried in his sleep (Galatea needed to question him on that later), and that Galatea likely was attacking Proteus with their hair. Galatea sat up, shifting Halimede, who was pretending to be asleep in his lap. He was mildly fidgeting, making it obvious. 

“..Psst- Halimede I know you’re awake!” They whisper-shouted accusingly. It brought Galatea whimsy to reveal that Halimede was acting. He tended to be a good actor, so it was always lovely when Galatea could figure out if what he was pretending to do was what he actually was doing. 

Halimede flipped himself over, now looking up at him. Galatea smacked his face, but not that hard. Halimede made that face that he tended to do before jumping them, and Galatea nearly brought up their fists in self-defense, as they thought about entering the battle royale they didn’t know was going on to wrestle Thalassa and potentially score some chewing asteroids, but then remembered their current situation when a small charm of Halimede that Umbriel made smacked him in the face because of his braids. 

Just as Halimede started to laugh, and he tended to laugh loudly , Galatea slapped a hand over his mouth and gestured out to the room. N1 was casually floating while asleep again, Galatea caught out of the corner of their eye. Halimede managed to look sheepish and looked to his feet with shame. Good. 

Galatea removed their hand when Halimede did lick it – gross, and whacked his head lightly, before tugging on Halimede with their gravity and moonhandling him next to them. Halimede shuffled around a tad bit, and pulled out some playing cards Hippocamp fashioned a few millennia ago. 

The first round ended with Halimede winning. The second, with Galatea. The third, N5. It wasn’t even because N5 was playing, no. It was due to the dumb rule that if any game was tied, the winner was automatically N5. That was also the reason N5 was #1 on the leaderboard for individual wins. Because no one won two out of the three games, it was a tie, and ultimately, N5 won. Halimede groaned and slumped backwards, and Galatea put an elbow on their knee, and pressed their palm into their forehead.  

“We just gave him..” Galatea trailed off. 

“Two wins.” Halimede hit his head on the back of the fabric pocket. Faint rustling could be heard from the piles of celestial bodies in the ‘room,’ which tended to be little more than a roomy sack moons. And from it, a figure popped up. 

“MUAHAHAHAHAHA,” the figure cackled, loudly. About as loud as Halimede on a good day. The figure was then brutally smacked by a sleeping Despina. The room shifted a little bit in their sleep, and Galatea held their breath for a few seconds, until the silence was broken. 

“Fatality,” Halimede narrated quietly next to him. 

“..I-I’m alive!” N5 dramatically tried to crawl out of the pile of moons – the positioning of the entire room definitely changed, likely at least a few times during the trip, casually becoming more and more random. Larissa had abandoned the pile, and was straight up floating up with N1. They were in the void of space after all. They noted to research further on why celestial bodies kept trying to pretend that they were heavily, heavily bound to one gravitational force later. 

“And.. I’ve won!” he continued, now making his way over, actually using his brain for once, and going over the moons. It was almost like he was fully conscious of the fact everyone except for himself, Halimede, and them were asleep, but then again he was definitely using his average volume, which was already way louder than you’d think a body so small could speak. 

Therefore, Galatea shushed him. Violently. 

They’ve both just lost two games to him, he has no right to be that loud. 

They then proceeded to use their gravity to pull N5 over to them, and the moment he was close enough, Galatea grabbed his leg and tugged gently (it was NOT gentle, N5 would say. What a wimp), bringing him down and giving him over to Halimede, who set him down in the space in front of them that Halimede once inhabited. N5 crossed his arms in faux anger. 

“You’re just pissy because I won! Twice !” N5 proclaimed with as much volume as he could whilst still whispering. 

“You wish !” Halimede snapped back. Galatea smiled. Good. Free entertainment. These imbeciles could argue for months at a time, before Neptune would cut them off, or maybe Titania. 

Before Galatea could even think of a way to fan the flames, the braids on their head clicked against each other as Proteus lazily blinked his eyes open, scooped up Hippocamp, and reached over to smack all three of them. 

A chorus of “Hey!” and “That hurt!” alongside a displeased grumble resonated through their vicinity. 

“Shut the fuck up..” Proteus mumbled, before flopping back down into his seat, and repositioning Hippocamp on his lap. Galatea gasped at his language. 

“How crude!” Halimede sounded scandalized, and they could see N5 nodding solemnly out of the corner of their eye. 

Proteus probably wasn’t sleeping, yet still kept his eyes shut as he began carding through Hippocamp’s hair out of habit once more. 

Eventually they were back to cards. Galatea won two games, Halimede three, and N5.. Well, one legit game, and four because of the stupid tiebreaker rule thing. 

Galatea hated his nonexistent guts. Not really though, because they still felt affection for him when looking at their younger brother. Halimede too. And Proteus, and Hippocamp, and everyone who was here. (And those who couldn’t fully make it to this moment.) 

N5 exhausted himself first, and as a quiet settled over them, he promptly fell asleep, and joined the group of moons resting whilst floating, laying in a similar position,  except a lot more sprawled out, and a lot more likely to kick Psamathe in the face. Halimede tried to poke him further up and away from her poor face, but for some odd reason, he kept on slowly moving back. He repeated this a few more times, and ended when they both began snickering behind their hands a bit too loudly. 

Somewhere along there, Proteus had relaxed and let himself sleep, and Halimede and them began discussing stupid inside jokes. Halimede took out the plans for the mask he was designing, and absently doodled onto the parchment they had traded for the other day. They quieted down, and somewhere along there, Galatea fell asleep watching Halimede sketch. 

Galatea slept soundly.

Despina was bored. Utterly bored. Deathly bored. 

Now getting bored tended to be normal in space, as you had a lot of time on your technically-shouldn’t-exist hands, but she usually had her siblings to keep her company! 

But because she swore on her left pinky finger that she wouldn’t wake anyone up just to entertain herself to Nereid, she was stuck. Curse her past self for keeping most of her belongings outside the travel pouch, she was sick and tired of this! 

But then again, she did NOT want to lose a finger to Nereid of all moons. Not to say that she didn’t expect it from her, but she also thought it was definitely more likely to be Naiad. Nobody told Neptune, but he DEFINITELY got high on comets, maybe more than all the Uranian moons combined! 

At first, Despina was knitting with yarn made from methane, ice, and such, courtesy of Thalassa running around looking for supplies about when Neptune announced this entire debacle, and then she ran out of yarn. 

She mentally cursed. Quite a bit, actually. Laomedeia insisted that she had the most whatever a ‘sailor’s tongue’ was. Wasn’t her fault that ‘Medeia tended to be such a goody two shoes. Plus it's not her fault that the parties that the Saturnian moons tended to do tended to get a little wild!  

It didn’t even matter if many moons were literally melting, they were all celebrating the occasion of still being alive! She was also fairly sure that half the people there were only chugging comets to get their minds off of the current situation but THAT'S NOT THE POINT! And who cares if the fighting ring in there breaks the crust of.. A lot of fighters? Okay that's a bit crazy. And the getting high thing. Laomedeia may be onto something. For once , she added, rolling her eyes. 

Despina wasn’t addicted to comets, like she knew a few moons were. But yeah, they were nice. Only Laomedeia, Sao, and Naiad even knew that she’s ever had more than a few! And Naiad literally goes with her, he cannot be complaining about her. It's actually a miracle that he isn’t addicted either. So many moons were taking them to forget, but that definitely wasn’t her case. 

Despina wasn’t begging Siarnaq, moon of Saturn, to start up another one whenever she was feeling down. And it wasn’t begging. It was just that she loved to party! And that she couldn’t stop. But it’s not an addiction! 

She remembers Laomedeia screaming at her whilst standing in the remnants of the Kuiper Belt. “What do you think Triton would’ve thought about this!?” She’d shouted, and the only thing she could think of was, ‘I cannot have this discussion sober.’  

But it wasn’t an addiction! That would be too strong a word. Plus, Naiad did them too, so she’s fine.  

She’s not an addict. She’s a fuckin’ half decent knitter, a social butterfly, an AMAZING hair stylist, a singer , and a damn good chemist. 

So what if she was a tad bit rebellious? Triton snuck out all the time! Even he was above whatever Despina was doing with her existence. She couldn’t compare to him, and he was gone. Oh, so gone .  

Despina didn’t want to think anymore. She reached for her bag, and then realized that the ones she kept the few comets she’d snagged in were tucked where Neptune sewed all their stuff into his coat. 

Despina descended to the so-called ‘bottom’ of the pocket, where everyone laid down and slept. She’d admit, the past few.. billions of years, she’d been distanced from the rest of her family. It felt painfully empty being with her thoughts. She didn’t like thinking after he died. 

He’d be so disappointed in her. Maybe even disgusted. His little sister, out pretending to be big and strong and everything she wasn’t. All because she didn’t want to process that he was gone. Destroyed. Dead. 

And Despina despised herself for always trying to get away from everyone, just for a hit, a rush. Maybe Naiad would understand her, but he was always out of it in a different way than she was. 

She used to be the greatest of friends with Laomedeia. They were sisters, singing partners, and yet, her gentle, steady glow, outshone hers when Triton did die. Laomedeia somehow, someway, got over his death. She doesn’t look at herself and feel pity. She never stopped singing, and yet– when Triton was destroyed, it took Despina’s voice too. It took the kindness, the sweetness, the loveliness of the sound. 

Despina hates the sound of her voice. It agitates her, and reminds her of what she couldn’t bear to do. Sing.  

She does, however, like the fizzles, the bubbles, of her various experiments. It was comforting, and Despina was able to forget the urges for a while by staring at the enclosed jar inside her purse. She was growing a crystal in there. Maybe only a year now. This one would be the largest of her crystals. The greatest fuckin’ scientist in this universe. That's what she was. 

Despina looked over to Laomedeia’s sleeping figure. She slept soundly. She didn’t toss and turn like she did when trying to sleep, eyes burning from sheer exhaustion. No. she could just make herself sleep. And it was easy for her. Just as it was easy for her to get used to change, or the Sun’s booming voice in the system. 

She’d never understand. Her feet grazed the bottom of the pocket, before sitting herself down on the side and leaning back on the wall, next to where the peep hole that Neptune usually kept for them was darned over. 

Triton would usually have to queue them up to look out of the window, to avoid them all crowding around it and accidentally fighting each other for a look to see where they were. Despina tended to go last. Laomedeia would pull her with all of her might to go look, and Despina would jokingly-begrudgingly take a look. 

Despina missed when Triton would pat her back a few times and nudge her over there, aiding ‘Medeia in her efforts. His hands always felt a bit warmer than the rest of Space. 

Sometimes, comets would make her feel warm too. Not exactly like his hands in her hair, back before she kept it in braids. But a bit warm. 

And it wasn’t like the comets were the greatest solution, but they felt easier than opening her mouth to let heavy words spill out, when the lightest of sentences could be achieved at the parties with the minor Saturnian moons. Plus, it wasn’t that she didn’t know them, she’s known them all for billions of years! Which is a really, really long time. 

Despina looked over to Larissa. She’d braided her hair earlier, and the styling was looking good. Despina felt a rush of pride in her work, and smiled big. Here comes extra confidence. 

Despina could probably figure out how to live without comets or something later, or maybe snatch a few in their new system, but that was a problem for another day. Because the comets weren’t a big problem, Despina could probably easily do that. 

Maybe Triton would be proud of her for stopping too.  

But Triton wasn’t here anymore, not to give her the nudge forward, nor to ruffle her hair with a slight smile on his face. Her mind went to the urge to have a comet. And the urge was ugly, disgusting. But still nagged at her. It was annoying, a nuisance, and yet all she could do was blame her past self. 

Tears pricked at her eyes. She couldn’t do this. She needed it. 

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Laomedeia was telling her she didn’t. Despina still wanted them. She brought her hands up to tug at her braids. The pain wasn’t sobering. The cold wasn’t sobering, nor familiar, for some odd reason. Only uncomfortable. 

She wasn’t a kid anymore. She could handle this. Yet, Despina could not get herself to move, do something, look for the comets or something. She couldn’t do shit. Just like how she didn’t do much to console her siblings when Triton was destroyed. She did a whole lot of nothing . Emptier than the void of space they all inhabited, because at least that could be filled with laughter, warm hands, and nudges forward.  

All that she could see in front of her were her siblings, her family she’d neglected because she couldn’t process things properly. Despina squeezed her eyes shut, and did not release her hair. 

She stayed like that for a while. 

At least until she heard a familiar humming. It wasn’t as deep, nor as resonating as Neptune’s voice, but more high-pitched and strong. 

“...’Medeia?” She croaked. Laomedeia would see her like this once more. Like those memories, blurry and foggy, where she was begging Laomedeia to give her back her comets.  

“Please! ‘Medeia please! You don’t understand, you don’t! Give them back to me!” Despina’s voice was hoarse from screaming, and Laomedeia was shouting back, something about her needing to quit, yet Despina couldn’t hear her over the ringing in her ears. That's all she remembered before the recollection went fuzzy.  

The gravities of her siblings were hard to make out, so close to each other, yet Despina could tell that the gravity in front of her belonged to Laomedeia. Why was she here? She should be asleep, breathing softly, curled up on top of her siblings. Not coaxing Despina out of whatever was happening to her. It was a familiar tune, and her voice gave her something to latch onto. Something she could use to come back from wherever her consciousness went. 

She continued humming, as Despina felt smaller hands gently pry her hands off her braids. She still kept her eyes shut. The thoughts were still there, disgraceful as ever. What if she asked her for comets, that would fix– never mind, she’d say no. And that would be ungrateful for the help she just gave her. But then again, she needed those. 

Despina sharply inhaled. What did Naiad do when he couldn’t get any comets for a while.. She wracked her mind for an answer. What did Naiad do? Well, he did introduce her to Pop Rocks, which he got from some of the Norse moons, who had taken up candy invention as a hobby. They had been a Solar System favorite for the past few millions of years. 

“..Pop Rocks..” Despina mumbled, voice hoarse. They somewhat felt like comets, yet they kept you sober. That’s why Despina never really had them. She, like many celestials, had a weak, weak sense of taste. Only younger Celestials could, and it tended to grow weak as a celestial aged. It wasn’t used much, and was only necessary for the formation of celestial bodies. Naiad tended to talk a LOT about this kind of stuff when he was high. 

“..What?” Laomedeia responded. She paused in rubbing circles and humming, in confusion. 

“..Get me some- I mean, can I please have some pop rocks?” Despina asked, awkwardly, considering the situation they were in. She at least needed to somewhat sound grateful for the help. Laomedeia helped her once more, similar to how a lot of times, She’d be the one to drag her back to her orbit to sleep off the hangover after the party.  

Despina blinked open her eyes. Damn. Imagine pulling someone out of a.. Thing like that and being greeted with, ‘give me pop rocks.’ Sao would be losing his shit over that.  

Laomedeia looked confused, but still fished through her tote bag for a bag of pop rocks. “Here?” 

Despina weakly took it from her hands, aggressively tore the bag open, ignoring Laomedeia’s bewildered look at her, and chugged half the bag. It was good, didn’t eliminate the craving completely, but definitely distracted her. If she had one regret now, it was consuming most of it at the same time. ‘Medeia winced in sympathy as the feeling definitely showed on Despina’s face. 

Still, Despina was no wimp, and promptly corrected the fault by lying through her teeth with a, “that's..” She paused, grimacing. “..Good!” She gave a thumbs up. However, she likely was not very convincing, considering the look on Laomedeia’s face. Despina had always tended to lie a lot to Laomedeia, about how she felt, her issues, and where she was going. Despina was always a bad liar, because they both always knew where she was going. To the party.  

Laomedeia scooted over next to her, and snatched the bag of pop rocks. She ate only a few at a time, and Despina sent her a scandalized expression in response to the thievery. Normally, she’d fucking jump Laomedeia, but right now, no. She’d never, ever, ever , hurt Laomedeia. She’s already dealt with so much of her shit. Despina didn’t need to further her debt to her. She was totally drained, and had no energy to throw hands. Laomedeia definitely still had questions, and she would definitely be mildly harassed about the occurrence that just happened, because she never really could hold off on questions for more than a few years. The thought of that made her lean over and take a few more pop rocks.  

Thankfully, however, luck was on her side, because Neptune definitely noticed they were awake, and began humming and getting them to sleep. 

Despina sighed. Hell would break loose when she broke up from her slumber. Better spend as much time as possible in dreamland while she still could. 

She slumped onto Laomedeia and drifted into a strange unconsciousness that wasn’t particularly sleep. She doesn’t notice the hand resting on her shoulder, nor the blanket that someone unpacked being draped over her. 

Neptune was almost there. His moons, he could feel, had awoken several times, most notably when they began playing cards. But also, he could feel when they awoke with more negative emotions. Neptune tried to give them space to process their emotions, and actually go through them, but ended up putting many of them to sleep in the end. 

The mental health aspect of being an immortal celestial object was taxing on any consciousness, no matter what kind, and Neptune definitely was no exception. Yet, if he could, he would pry the sorrow, grief, hopelessness, and all those emotions from them and take them on for them. Technically, that was kind of what he was doing right now. Courting insanity so that his children wouldn’t have to glimpse into its eyes.  

Neptune collected a lot of materials for spinning into yarn whilst weaving cloth. He’d gotten used to the constant speed (his very fastest), and was able to do various fiber arts whilst moving at his fastest. Honestly, he was pretty sure he’d been actually getting better at going faster, but only by a small amount, and only enough to counteract the fact that he's already moved his natural orbit because of the distance he’d travel, therefore slowing his natural orbital speed. 

That was a bonus. He’d hate to slow down, not when he’s so close! The gravity of the other star had gotten stronger! He needed to do this for all of them. For Him . 

What would happen when Neptune entered their system? Would he be kicked out? Would he disturb the orbits and cause collisions and destruction and.. Oh no. what if he causes something like the fate of his first babies to this unknown star? All because he wanted another chance. Neptune would gladly have wanted to be destroyed with the rest of the System when the Sun ran out of fuel, but he needed to keep them all safe. He’d sworn to do just that. 

Back when Triton entered his Roche limit, Neptune refused to touch any of his moons out of fear of shattering them. Just like how he did when his first ones had been destroyed. He watched as they cried, and he wanted so much to hold them, to cradle them, to put them to sleep – yet Neptune could only watch. 

Neptune was also fairly sure that when it initially happened, many of them were much too scared to come near him anyways. And it hurt . 

Neptune had always tried his very hardest to never have his sweet, precious baby moons be afraid of larger celestial objects. And for the most part, he’d succeeded. It was one of the reasons they were so confused about the motivations of the moon revolution. They didn’t have the instinct to immediately fear a much larger celestial. They didn’t understand how a moon could fear their planet so much. How it would be so easy to accidentally be destroyed by a larger body. 

It was how Proteus befriended Planet X, before he fought against him in battle. Before Proteus used all of his bravery and strength to confront him, being the one who ultimately made X leave the system. 

Neptune knew that at that moment, they realized how easy it would be to be destroyed at the hands of a larger celestial. Of one that not only was a planet, but one that looked eerily similar to Neptune. He was thankful that they didn’t seem to make the connection of X to himself, because he would never intentionally hurt them in that way. 

Thousands and thousands of asteroids were being pulled above X by his gravity. Neptune couldn’t get himself to move. He wasn’t sure if it was his own panic or Sol preventing him from interfering, or both, but Neptune couldn’t move.  

They were screaming. They were screaming and Neptune couldn’t do anything.  

But now, they had realized that Neptune , not just any celestial, but their host planet, had the capacity to destroy them. To kill them. And it wasn’t like he’d ever do it intentionally, he’d tried his very hardest to prevent it from happening at all. He’d tried keeping him out of his orbit. Sending him to hang out with the Dwarf Planets, with Titania. 

It still happened. It still happened, and he couldn’t do anything. Neptune couldn’t do anything. Not as they screamed, cried, sat in disbelief, trying to process what's happened over the collective mourning going on in his orbit. Moons and Dwarf Planets gathered in his orbit to mourn him. Triton. 

“Triton!?” Neptune yelled. It was out of character for him, out of the bubbly front he tended to put up to bring others joy. This was not joyous. This wasn’t anything joy could fix. And Neptune tried so, so hard to push Triton out of his Roche Limit.  

“Please, please hold on!” One of his children urged.  

“Yeah! Neptune will save you, Big Brother!” Another one piped up. In the end, they were wrong. Neptune didn’t save him. He couldn’t. And perhaps, there was more that he could’ve done. Triton had been turned into rings.  

Meanwhile, his moons were screaming, crying, sobbing, wailing, standing in pure utter disbelief.  

Neptune, meanwhile, couldn’t do anything. It was almost a common occurrence perhaps. Whenever his babies needed help – really needed it, Neptune couldn’t provide it.  

Consoling them would likely scare them, and Neptune didn’t need to scare them more than they already were. Break their hearts even more than they were already. Shatter their innocence more than it was already torn to shreds like Triton’s body. 

So, Neptune stood there. He stood there a while. He stood until his legs gave out, keeping his eyes shut. Opening them made him nauseous. When he did, he had to focus through the veil of rings over his eyes, to see his moons, distraught, to see anything but his victim. His whole life, he’d trapped Triton, and the fact that it was never intentional never override the fact that it was his fault. Not in his books. 

When he noticed Proteus’ heartbroken stare at him, Neptune turned around, overcome by something, something he couldn’t exactly name, like those times when he forgot the common language and could not get anything truly across without reverting back to the intrinsic language. He sped off. 

He ignored the confused shouts in the background, and didn’t truly stop until he was just outside the Kuiper Belt, far enough away to scream. It was guttural and raw and something he definitely didn’t want his moons seeing. 

He’d killed someone. Not just someone, but one of his moons. His babies . It didn’t matter to him that Triton wasn’t originally his, He’d taken him , Triton was one the celestials he genuinely cared so, so, so much for. And he’d just destroyed him. 

Neptune’s screams mixed with something between a sob and a wail, and it was somewhat fitting, because Triton was always something between a moon and a dwarf planet. And he continued shrieking, if only for the slim possibility that Triton would hear and be back soon. 

He was never, ever, ever coming back. 

Not like when he went on small adventures, or to moon clubs, or to meet with the Dwarf Planets. 

Neptune could feel his head ache , pain rippling through his inner atmosphere. Neptune nearly reached up to tug on his hair, but felt his new, forming rings, and flinched back as if he was burned. The sound of his own screams irritated him, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. 

Someone was approaching him, he felt gravity nearby, and he blinked his eyes open. Through blurry eyes, before he could figure out who was going to see him tear himself apart, he noticed faint, small sunglasses floating through the remains. Neptune stumbled a bit, and let out a warbled sound, his voice so hoarse from screaming for an indefinite period of time. 

There was little breath left in him to scream anymore, and if there was more, Neptune was sure the sound of his own voice would double the pain in his head. 

Too much was happening, and he was distantly aware of the smaller and larger celestial objects approaching him, but he was too preoccupied with shedding enough tears to make his eyes sore, and sobbing with no care for volume. 

A hand touched his, and Neptune pulled his hand back. His cape, the one he normally loved , caught beneath his feet, and the normally well-balanced, flexible celestial, fell backwards as he startled. He internally cursed it over the chaos in his mind.. He wouldn’t return. Even when he was unsure of his standing in the Neptunian system, and went out to explore his identity as a celestial object, he always returned. But he wasn’t coming back now. 

Neptune only stopped when his voice gave out. Now, all he had the energy for was to curl himself up and rock himself slowly. 

He remembers gently being taken back to his orbit, to sleep. Nothing after that. 

Neptune sighed. His form ached . He’d been going on, towards that star. None of that running repeatedly around in Uranus’ new orbit could have prepared himself for this. He still wasn’t fast, like that one little planet he can sort-of remember orbited close to the Sun. He was the outermost one, and following Kepler’s second law of planetary motion, he would therefore be the slowest of them all. 

Neptune misses when he used to be faster. When he could still run through space, freely, with no care for what happened around him. When he could simply play with Uranus near the Kuiper belt. He felt a pang in his core at the memory of his cousin. He left him behind. 11 billion years of existence with him. He left behind Uranus. 

Neptune let out a shaky exhale. He was still going forward, and honestly, it was now more normal than breathing (which wasn’t that normal in the first place for him, unlike how it was with other celestials-), and somehow, he didn’t feel nearly as exhausted as he thought he would. It still hurt though. 

This was nothing. Only 300,000 standard years. Probably only 19 hours in relation to the lifespan of the now-extinct Earthlings. Neptune wasn’t really close with Earth, in a literal and metaphorical sense, unless you counted that orbit swap, but that was temporary. Still, Neptune sympathizes with his loss of life. Neptune’s memory is a bit foggy, around that time, however. 

No matter how short this trip would be, Neptune caught himself falling into insanity a few times. Going space-mad wouldn’t help his goals. 

Protect them. Keep going. For your moons. The ones alive and the ones sewn into your coat. 

For Triton. 

Nereid was a heavy sleeper. It was common knowledge, and the information was usually paired with a warning to NEVER wake her up. Yet, she didn’t yell when Laomedeia shook her awake. 

“Nereid..” She whispered. Nereid instantly knew something was up, now sitting up. How long had it been? A few thousand years? Probably. She still felt incredibly exhausted from throwing around luggage with Proteus earlier. 

“Laomedeia?” She asked, now eye to eye with her. Despina was laying in her lap. Medeia looked shaken, and Nereid had no idea why. “What happened?” 

Laomedeia shook her head. “Blanket,” she mouthed as Despina stirred. Nereid’s sight adjusted, and used her gravity to pull a blanket from the ‘wall’ of the pocket. This one was made by.. Naiad, she believes. And the embroidery seems to be done by Proteus. 

The embroidery was the standard code of sound waves, from that Era some time before her big brother was gone, when a great portion of the moons had a sudden interest in music, and then theatre and such a few millennia later. 

The song on this one was one of the duets Triton did with Miss Callisto. Nereid felt a pang in her core at the memory, brushing her fingers over the embroidery, before gently laying it on Despina. 

Now that she was really looking at her (slightly) younger sister, she really took in how disheveled her appearance was. Braids loosening, noticeable eyebags.. Tear tracks. 

That was why Laomedeia was so concerned. 

Nereid sighed, tucking in the edges over Despina, and brushing the braids in her face back. Nereid rubbed her hands together for a few moments, friction generating heat, and melting a thin layer of her skin, before pressing her palms to Despina’s face, and wiping away the tear tracks. 

Triton did that when she cried too. She learned it from him, although he didn’t need to rub his hands together for nearly as long as she did — He always had a natural warmth to him. Nereid blinked her eyes a few times. She needed to focus on the current situation, and whilst Despina definitely looked better, Laomedeia’s hand resting on her shoulder was trembling. 

Nereid looked up. Laomedeia’s eyes seemed far away, and she didn’t seem present. “Medeia?” She called, now jerking up into a sitting position. 

No response. Nereid scooted her form over to her, awkwardly floating over Despina to do so. She waved a single hand. “Laomedeia, are you there?” 

She flinched violently in response, and Nereid felt her neutral expression fall into a frown. Laomedeia was breathing raggedly, but still choked out, "Yeah- I’m here.” 

Nereid floated down to press her forehead into Laomedeia’s own. Her hands cupped her cheeks, and her face was cooler than usual. The vast majority of ‘minor’ moons tended to be always cold.  

She huffed out a breath. Nereid felt Laomedeia faintly smile under her fingertips. “Stay with me?” 

Nereid shifted a hand to bury it into Medeia’s hair. Her big mess of curly hair, which she usually kept meticulously placed, wasn’t neat, per even Nereid’s standards.  

“Sure.” She responded. Laomedeia didn’t need more convincing or any more prompting. Her eyes drooped shut. 

Nereid gently moved her form over to right beside the now-asleep Laomedeia, and carefully glided her more massive form right next to her. 

Nereid watched over them for probably a few more standard years, before letting sleep overtake her like the majority of the moons in this pocket. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Naiad, Thalassa, Psamathe, and Larissa did not wake the entire way through after falling asleep. 

 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Naiad had entered his ‘holding cell,’ as he lovingly called it, which was in reality something between a really massive blanket and a sleeping bag, with a strong commitment to sleep the whole way through. He couldn’t handle boredom, and would wake everyone up, given the chance. 

And he wasn’t about to have Nereid threaten to throw small asteroid pellets at him. Because those small asteroid pellets were DEFINITELY about the size of N1. and N1’s punches hurt . Or maybe he’s just a weak bitch like Despina says he is. 

Naiad usually could put himself to sleep at will. It always came easily. Really, that’s half of what he’d been doing for the past few billions of years. It was better than coming to terms with all that’s happened. 

Naiad knew he had a problem. That was probably the worst part. That, or the comets he chewed for most of the time he wasn’t sleeping. It wasn’t okay. And it wasn't alright. But Naiad had dug himself too deep a hole, and maybe Pop-Rocks and candy would help a bit, like when his consciousness was still childlike, but it was essentially a little tug away from the black hole, the monster who kept trying to pull him in deeper. 

The hopelessness was terrifying , paralyzing, overtaking, mind-controlling. Like shaky hands with a needle and thread, and a project too large to comprehend. 

Naiad pulled out a bag of Pop-Rocks. It was crinkly and somehow sticky, but he still tore open the bag. Ate them slowly. Savoring them. And when he was done, he let his eyes droop shut. 

They didn’t open for the rest of the trip. 

Thalassa performed one last show with the remaining Uranian moons before leaving. She was still filled with giddiness and adrenaline as she took the final bow with them. Titania had thrown her and twirled her around with her gravity a few times, like how she did when she was much younger. Oberon took her from Titania, twirled her, before setting her down. She did her not-so-secret handshake with Umbriel, before she bid farewell to the rest of them. Ariel looked at her, pain in her eyes, and hugged her tight. 

They didn’t know she was leaving. Forever. That she would never perform with them again. Maybe Titania knew. Perhaps Ariel suspected it by the look on her face. Or maybe it was the way she threw Rosalind up. Or ruffled Ferdinand’s hair. 

Ariel’s eyes had tears, as Thalassa strode off in the direction of Neptune’s orbit. Thalassa only turned around once, and Miranda had put a hand on Ariel’s shoulder. Thalassa whipped her head back towards the direction she was headed. 

She was crying the entire way to Neptune’s orbit. 

Crying had always made her drowsy, and so she limply floated inside the pocket. Laid down in some position she wasn’t sure was comfortable. Pulled up her hood. She was in her Ursula coat. It was one of her most prized possessions, and was gifted by Naiad back when he did design coats. Half the jewels fell off through the years. The sleeves had gone threadbare and been repaired so many times.  

Naiad would give her a teasing look, smile at her, and then pull out his needle and thread. Sometimes sewed in something, as he darned the holes shut and replaced the parts past repair. 

Since he was destroyed, Naiad wasn’t awake as often to fix it. When he wasn’t asleep, he wouldn’t be in orbit. And if he was awake in orbit, his eyes were distant. And slowly, their orbits came out of resonance, causing them to be at risk of crashing into each other. Thalassa had to be physically held by Nereid on the other side of Neptune to avoid the risk. 

Even when they did regain resonance, Naiad never looked at her the same as he did before the incident. His eyes were still glassy. A small smile. He still repaired it, but as if it was a habit. As if it meant no more than random monotonous work. Weaved no more odd bits and pieces in for her to discover later. 

And it was almost as if Thalassa had lost two brothers that day. 

She turned her head to the lump that was Naiad underneath his blanket and inside his sleeping bag. And then let the drowsiness win. 

Psamathe cut a hole in the wall using N5’s asleep body’s elbow about a few standard years into the journey, and knit a whole ‘nother compartment using sheer spite and six and a half old coats that she shredded for materials. She may have been way too noisy during her endeavors though, because Neptune definitely noticed she was awake, and began willing her to go to sleep. And scolding her. In binary. Which foiled Psamathe’s plan for cursing in numbers instead of the common language. Mr. Makemake helped her become fluent in all of that. 

01100110 01110101 01100011 01101011. :( 

They’d spent so much time together devising. Plotting. Planning. For unserious crimes. Psamathe’s favorite. Sometimes he’d pick her up in his gravity and they’d go super fast. And if Psamathe closed her eyes, it would almost be as if she was being carried along by Triton. Similar orbital speeds and all that jazz. Makemake taught her chemistry, and how to stack asteroids to make a fort. She’d talk with MK2 whilst he was asleep. Gossip. Make strange compounds. Laugh. 

Maybe work on stupid, silly, weird engineering projects without having others notice. She’d miss them both. Psamathe isn’t even sure she wanted to leave them. But maybe it was the look in MK2’s eyes, as he helped pack her bag, weaved instructions for their favorite creations into her hair, and then leaned on Makemake’s asleep body as she went away. Makemake hadn't woken in 100 million years. He’d probably wake up soon. She just hoped that MK2 wouldn’t be too lonely until then. 

As Psamathe slowly lost consciousness, drifting away to sleep, Neptune finished the compartment himself using his atmosphere, but it wasn’t nearly as spacious as Psamathe planned, and was more of a nook than anything. Psamathe had to settle for it. It was apparently enough for her comfort, because she didn’t wake up for the rest of the trip. 

Larissa got bored within the first standard year, and began braiding as many of her sleeping siblings as possible before Neptune could take notice. She successfully got through a whopping five. Halimede hadn’t refreshed his braids in at least two centuries. It was long overdue. Very long overdue. There was NO good reason for having such messy hair when a third of his siblings were incredibly good hair stylists. 

Larissa learned from Ms. Charon, one of the best stylists in the system. She spent most of her time asleep, spinning around with Mr. Pluto. Same for a majority of the dwarf planets. Mr. Makemake tried to stay awake as much as possible recently, but although nobody wanted to admit it, he wasn’t succeeding much anymore. Psamathe would miss him a lot. After Triton’s passing, she got really close with him, and she was his assistant alongside MK2. 

Death was normal for celestials. And as Mr. Makemake instructed, matter cannot be created nor truly destroyed. Triton was still with them. Just in another form. And when Naiad and Thalassa escaped resonance for those first accursed hundred thousand years after Triton was destroyed, when they were both at risk of colliding, when Proteus and Nereid had to physically hold them on opposite sides of Neptune, Larissa prayed to whatever forces applied that they would live on too. That if they collided, some part of them would stay with them. That they wouldn’t disappear. 

And they never did collide. Yet, the fear remained, even a few billion years later, after they went back into resonance. 

Larissa felt as if a chunk of her consciousness died with Triton. She laid limp in her orbit for a long time, once they had found Neptune and convinced him that he wouldn’t destroy any more of them. 

“Neptune, please! Come back!” someone was shouting. Neptune’s eyes were obscured by the eerie ring hovering just over them. Larissa’s eyes were blank. Probably in grief. Maybe in pure shock. Perhaps a bit in disbelief.  

Proteus, in a fit of whatever exceptional bravery he’d always had, strode forward. Larissa hadn’t really wondered how he had the courage to, back then, but now... It was a different story.  

Proteus was always pretty convincing.  

Someone had handed her N5. Larissa didn’t see his eyes. She merely carded a hand through his hair, out of habit. Someone was sniffing, crying softly beside her. She couldn’t make out who it was out of the corner of her eyes. It wasn’t until the moon whispered to Despina, probably, that she figured out it was Laomedeia.  

They all floated there, a long while. Larissa couldn’t really recall anything after the frantic, but grief-stricken face Nereid made in their direction before running off.  

It took a very long time for Larissa to go back to some semblance of herself. Something that wasn’t so empty. Something that didn’t spend all their abundance of time on mourning the loss of a part of themself, a disconcerting void in her core. Something that thought of what to fill it with rather than looking in the gap forever. A few million years before she gave proper replies.  

But she wasn’t the same. Never really. 

Makemake taught that Matter cannot be created nor destroyed .  

It can be changed, though, Larissa resigned.  

Larissa sighed as sleep overtook her consciousness, the unspoken words tasting bittersweet on her tongue.