The Door

Keep going, Steve, or they’ll kill you.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other. I feel like I could fall, but I’m so lightheaded that it almost feels like the opposite, like I’m trying to hold myself down so I’m not blown away. There isn’t time now to collapse or rest. Keep going, Steve. If not for me, then for every other human who came before me.

The breeze rustles my matted fur. My front leg still stings, no doubt already bruising. I lift my eyes from my feet, and the door is still there. It glows with heavenly light. Impossibly, it stands without a wall. A few more minutes of wobbling, and I’m standing right in front of it.

There’s nothing else to see. The light burns my eyes, and squinting reveals nothing. I take a cautious sniff, and mixed in with the salty smell of the beach is the warmth of crackling fire; herbs and spices I can’t recognize sting my nose, and I rub my nose.

Did I really put nose twice? Ugh, I’m gonna have to change that later.

The wind ruffles my neck fur, and I remember just where I am. I don’t have time to be questioning this. I turn back down the beach; it’s still peaceful and quiet, the sounds of the waves gently cradling me from the reality that I just killed someone. Soon, it would be broken by the sounds of a mob, full of all the pokemon I thought I had known here. A part of me wants to go back and see if they’ll believe what Ninetales told me, but I remember how quickly my housemates turned. Not even Tony cared enough to side with me.

Another dungeon could await me on the other side, but it’s my only chance at freedom. Maybe there’s a legendary pokemon that could save me. Maybe not. I look to the water and see the sun kissing the horizon, the sky a gradient of orange and deep blue. If I die in this dungeon, I’m happy this is the last thing I get to see.

I duck my head, squeeze my eyes shut and start to walk. Despite my best efforts, my mind is racing. What if I have to swim again? What if something attacks me while I’m out of electricity? Will anyone even miss me if I die in here? Were the rest of the humans wrong to put their faith in me? Have I already let them down?

The wind in my fur fades away, along with the sounds of waves. It’s silent, until I hear a voice. I open my eyes, and I’m standing in someone’s home.

It’s a small house with only one room. There are two pokemon playing together in front of a fireplace at the other end, a small skull-headed dinosaur and a blue fish-dog thing that I don’t know the names of. To their left are two beds with a pile of blankets in the middle. I feel heat coming from my side, and I look to see a kitchen. There’s another pokemon there with a flaming tail that flickered as they kneaded a big ball of dough. The dining table to my right hadn’t been set, so he must be making dinner.

I take in a deep breath through my nose, and it still smells like home. Not my home, but a home still. The flaming pokemon has his back turned to me, and he still hasn’t noticed I’m here. He takes a step backwards, and some hairs on my left side start to stick up. There’s a little pop of static electricity, and the pokemon’s focus breaks. He turns. He screams. And now I’m screaming too.

The little dinosaur jumps to its feet, and so does the fish-dog. The latter runs straight at me, and I can feel the last little bit of electricity in my body try to retaliate, but nothing comes out. The fish hits me like a speeding wet car, and I’m on the floor. My flank stings from Ninetales’ strike, but I’m too weak to shove their paw off of the bruise.

“What are you doing in our house?!” The fire pokemon shouts, hands gripping the countertop.

I try to explain myself, but a damp paw is jammed onto my throat; I can hardly breathe, much less talk. I choke out a small “eck–”

I misread it as ‘damp paw jammed into my throat’, and it gave me a very different interpretation of this scene.

Neck may have been a better word in hindsight.

“Nona, stop choking them!” The little dinosaur whines. I can see in the corner of my eye that he’s trying to shove the fish-dog named Nona off of me, and I can almost breathe again. My eyes float to the ceiling as I struggle to breathe.

“Don’t–… know!” I say weakly. “Went… through door. Came out… here.”

“You’re gonna choke ’em!” The dinosaur says again.

“Well I’m not just gonna let the guy go! He broke into the fucking house!” Nona swings a paw at him, and he shoves his palm against her face, slowly gaining leverage over a multi-tasking Nona.

“Look, if you’re gonna kill me—… if you’re gonna kill me just make it quick,” I choke out.

“We’re not gonna—” Nona tries to say, but the tiny dinosaur shoulder checks her hard enough for her to stumble. She gives up on holding down my neck and just sits on my legs. It’s very uncomfortable.

The fiery pokemon walks over and puts a hand on Nona’s shoulder. Despite being so scared a moment ago, he sounds calm when he says “I don’t think he’s going to cause us trouble.”

“He’s the one who just busted into our house, Ignis!” Nona argues, but she climbs off of me onto all fours. I stand back up, and my legs are even shakier than before.

“You look like you got hurt. Let me check you out.” The tiny dinosaur spots my limp, and he comes to look it over, but then he cocks his head. “Does anyone else smell that?”

Nona raises an eyebrow— or the skin where an eyebrow would be— at the dinosaur. She sniffs, and she blinks a few times.

“Seawater,” she says.

“And is that sand you’re tracking in?” The one named Ignis asks. I turn around, and sure enough I’ve left behind a carpet of fine white sand along the hardwood floor.

I haven’t thought about whether or not I should be truthful here. I was expecting a mystery dungeon, but it sounds like no one here was expecting a guest. If there was a legendary here, wouldn’t they know someone would come? None of these pokemon look especially legendary. Then again, neither did Jirachi.

“I wasn’t lost,” I say. “I was walking along the beach, when a glowing door appeared in front of me. I walked through, and here I was.”

It takes a second for them to respond. They look at each other like they’re confused about more than just the door I mentioned.

“Um… I’ve never heard someone talk like that,” the dinosaur says.

“That wasn’t just me?” Nona chimes in.

Ignis lets out a sigh. “Ronan, that’s a little rude.”

I look behind me at the door I just came through, but all that’s left is a plain brown front door.

“I thought it would take me to a legendary dungeon. Is… Is this that dungeon?” I ask.

Ignis taps his foot. “We’re in… Well, we live at the end of this dungeon, but there’s nothing legendary about it. Where were you before?”

“The beach, on an island I… don’t remember the name of.”

“That’s what has me confused— we don’t have any beaches near here, and even if we did, this is the mainland. There aren’t any islands within a hundred miles.”

So this didn’t take me to a dungeon like the previous one did? Is this a trick?

I carefully walk up to the door and push it with a paw. It creaks open to a pink sunset over a horizon of tall, pointed trees. Grass ruffles in a quiet breeze that stirs up smells of mud and moss.

“I’m… off the island.”

The words hardly process. To think, just a few minutes ago I was dead meat, a whole island of pokemon coming after me. Now I’m God knows where. It feels like the previous day was a bad dream I just woke up from. It’s not home, but it might as well be.

“Don’t worry—” The tiny dinosaur— Ronan, he was called— walks up and puts a hand on my bad flank, and I wince in pain. “Oh no! I’m sorry. I forgot you were hurt.”

I only just noticed, but now that they mentioned it, all three of them sound different too, unlike anything I’ve heard from the pokemon on the island. They speak the same language, but almost like a different dialect.

“You all sound so different too. Where are we?” I ask.

“A little south of Ambersap Town and the Star-reach Guild,” Ignis says. “Which is– er– on the ice continent. That’s what I meant to say. This is the ice continent.”

“What? Where? Why would anyone want to live in Antartica? I’m from Oban, which is on the… uhhhhh… No continent, actually.”

Ronan puts a gentle hand on my good shoulder this time. “You need your rest first. Once you’re better, we can find out where you came from.”

“Are we sure we can handle another house guest?” Ignis asks the other two.

“We gotta help people!” Ronan retorts. “And he can’t make it into town on his own. We can take him to the guild tomorrow once he’s all rested up.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” Ignis says under his breath.

Ronan turns to me. “You still have all your memories, right? And you didn’t fall out of the sky?”

Ronan talks so fast, and mixed with his accent, it makes it hard to understand him sometimes. I have to actively put together the individual words to make sure I didn’t mishear him.

“My memories… are all fine. I walked here through a magic door, so I haven’t fallen from anywhere.”

“Good,” he says with a snicker. “We’ve had a problem of pokemon dropping in.”

“So… it’s safe for me to stay here?” I ask. It sounds like a silly question, but my stomach won’t settle until I know.

Nona’s in the middle of giving Ronan a noogie when she looks at me.

“Relatively,” she says. “All depends on if you stay on my good side or not.”

Ignis rolls his eyes. “If this keeps up, we’re gonna need a bigger house.”

After the day I’ve had, tonight is exactly what I needed. Ignis hands me a pile of plates and tells me to set the table. Ronan asks me if I can help him put away his toys. Nona makes a joke about my ratty fur. Casual, easy, normal daily life— the kinda stuff I missed about my old housemates. Makes me forget I’m still probably a wanted fugitive.

Ignis serves us dinner with fresh bread and tea, and I take up a seat at the table, spending the first few minutes of dinner just drooling over the delicious scents of the meal. Ignis and Nona start telling me about their work, while Ronan eagerly interjects. They mention missions, outlaws, quests— things that are almost nostalgic to me. Something about a sickness crosses Ignis’ lips, and it’s like the whole table falls hush. I spend the time digging into my food, and by the time it passes, they want to know about me and my life.

There’s not much I’m sure about sharing yet. I still don’t know if I need to keep my cover here or not. This place already looks like it’s meant for pokemon and not humans, so maybe they wouldn’t care? I tell them about the island, and I decide to spill its secret: that humans were the ones who settled it and built it, before they all “disappeared.”

Nona chokes on her food so bad that she bangs on her chest. She grabs a glass of water and chugs it down.

“…You mean like an ancient human settlement?” Ignis asks.

“Not ancient,” I correct. “The houses are still there, but they’re showing their age pretty bad. Few of them collapsed.”

Nona and Ignis stop eating, and they lock eyes with each other. My heart stops. Did I just reveal too much?

“That’s…” Ignis taps his claws against the table. “Are you sure? Humans didn’t make houses that could survive thousands of years.”

Thousands? But there were humans on that island within the last century at least. Were we the last of our kind?

“I’m sure. Their door knobs are too high to reach, and all of the furniture was built for humans on two legs. All the plumbing stopped working a while ago.”

Nona leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “If the book is true, then that would be impossible, right?”

Ignis let out a long sigh. “About as impossible as you falling out of the sky, or Jolteon teleporting into our living room.”

“My name is Steve. That’s what most people call me, at least,” I say without thinking.

Ignis takes a hard swallow of his drink, like he was surprised. “How is it that everyone we take in ends up not knowing name etiquette?”

“To be fair, Ronan always ignores it anyway,” Nona adds.

I’ve never heard of name etiquette before, and now I’m worried I’ve offended someone.

“Sorry, what do you mean?” I ask.

Ignis blinks. “Do you just tell everyone your name?”

“I mean, I tried not to for a bit, but I gave up on that a long time ago.”

“That’s… wow.” Ignis crosses his arms on the table in thought. “And you’re absolutely sure you don’t know where you came from?”

Nona laughs. “Ah, you’ve given him too much, Steve. Now it’s all he’s gonna be talking about.”

“Is not!” Ignis says.

“Is too!” Ronan chimes in.

I take the opportunity to duck out of the conversation and back into my meal, scarfing down enough food to make up for all the meals I missed while on the run. I finish first, then so do the others. Ignis and Nona stay behind to clean up the dishes, while Ronan goes to make his bed. By the time they’re done, I’ve done nothing but sit at the table, just trying to take in all that’s happened within the past few hours. I could sleep for days.

I watch Nona as she sprays off bits of food with a water attack, then cleans them with soap, unlike Aza. What else is strange, is that she’s doing it on two legs. She doesn’t look like she’s built to stand on two, but she does anyway. Did she make those braces for that purpose? The pokemon here had thousands of years to adjust to life without humans, I guess. Who knows what else they’ve created.

The sounds of the household winding down calms me enough that I space out again, until I’m brought back down by Nona tapping my shoulder. She shows me a spot on the floor she prepared with a couple of blankets. Eager to sleep, I stand up and stretch over the side of the table. Extending my whole spine, I stand up almost totally straight, and for a second I see why Nona might like the posture. It’s been so long, but it almost reminded me of what it was like to be a human. I doubt she has the same reason though.

With a big yawn, I’m back on all fours. Nona’s looking at me strangely, but I ignore it and take up my spot in bed. The others flick off the lights and say their goodnights. I give them a quiet “hmph” before drifting off to sleep, hoping to find some peace in my dreams.

It’s impossible to anticipate when the real world switches to the dream. Like falling asleep, it just happens. I try my best to relax and keep an eye out for the change at the same time, and I surface on the other side in what only feels like a few minutes.

I stand up and stretch my dream body, which I don’t think actually needs to stretch. Force of habit.

Three planets loom on the horizon, two familiar and one brand new. Steve’s is only a little further away than the others. It’s a gray tone of beige, swirling with clouds like wisps of cream in a cup of coffee.

I take a cursory look around, and I see that The Figure isn’t here. Perfect. And I don’t mean that sarcastically this time. Means I can cut the bullshit and do what I came here to do. To keep from allowing it to show up, I jump up, and I’m caught by an explosion at my feet. Then another. Then another. And I’m rocketing off towards Steve’s planet.

It’s only a minute before I’m approaching its atmosphere. It’s then that thoughts of guilt start to pop up. I know that I wouldn’t want anyone coming into my head and digging into my memories, but there was something off about Steve. Teleporting into the house, living on a distant island of humans, and apparently getting into a fight there— those bruises are definitely recent. Still, I can’t put it all together in my head. So I’ll have to go find answers myself.

I stop the explosions a few seconds before I land, close my eyes, and slowly float inside. When I open them, it’s a black expanse. I’ve done this before. I feel around like last time, and I find another door knob, this one almost too high for me to reach. I open the door and step inside, only to find… more doors?

It’s more of the same, an endless black expanse, but there are doors forming the shape of a room. Just plain wooden house doors, all dilapidated and worn. Whatever this layout had to say about Steve, I don’t think I like it.

No bullshit. I don’t have all that much time to spare here.

“What happened to you?” I ask the silence.

There’s no wind like last time, no sound or queue that could guide me. Instead, it’s just a prickle against my skin. Like static. I can feel the presence of it even if I’m not touching it. I follow it to one of the farthest doors with a faint light peeking out from its crack between the floor. Like ripping off a band-aid, I grip the handle, fling it open, and step out onto the beach.

Ninetales’ lips curl menacingly. “Giving up?”

“Go for it,” I say. I hope my voice doesn’t betray how afraid I am.

“So you’ve realized you cannot win. It’s only natural for a human like you to fight back against the odds. I should know, I saw it happen the first time. I will let you off easy.”

He raises a single paw to strike me with. No claws. He’s going to bludgeon me to death. So much for being let off easy.

I swing my head to the side, and he cracks me right on the shoulder. Through the pain, I latch on with both my front legs and my teeth. I have less than a second before he reacts. This has to work.

Focus. I feel it all crackling inside of me, energy I had never thought to use. It jolts through my muscles and leaps between my fur. There’s a crack of thunder that rings in my ears, and Ninetales falls limp. He might be dead, might be unconscious, but he’s definitely out of my hair.

“You killed Ninetales!” I turn around and see Mark, eyes wide and quivering with fear. “You monster.”

I bare my teeth. “Yes, I did. And I’ll kill you too, if you try like he did.”

To my relief, he shoots off in the other direction. A part of me feels bad for scaring him, but it’s life or death here. The others are going to know where I am now, and I need every advantage I can get.

I scan the woods. The beach is too open now that they’re on the hunt for me. I could slip into the woods, maybe even make it back into town. Not like it would matter. I need nothing short of a miracle.

I limp towards the treeline, trying to ignore the aching pain in my body and the grogginess of an empty battery. I pick my head up to see… is that a doorway? Made out of light? Either I’m hallucinating, or I just got my miracle.

I’m back in my body again, feeling over the new memory. Steve neglected to mention that he had gotten into a fight, much less one that ended up with someone killed. I would wake up and kick him out for it, but… he’s a human. He’s the only other human I’ve met here. Maybe he lost his memories like I did, or maybe he still has them. Either way, I need to talk to him face-to-face, human-to-human.

Can I call Steve a crackhead from Nona’s POV?

You may use one crackhead.

But a question pops into my mind. Just how would I approach this–… I don’t know how to put it–… this crackhead? I have no idea how he would take it, and it’s not like I can go anywhere alone with him without Ignis and Ronan getting suspicious.

As if the universe itself heard what I was saying, a new door materialized in front of me. It may not help me find the time, but it might give me some more insight into what this guy is thinking. Given how new it is, I assume it’s the memory of us meeting.

“What did you see in us?” I ask, flinging the door open and rushing into the room.

I will have to copy and paste some of your description verbatim.

That’s just saving time. B)

You have my full permission.

I see inside a small house with only one room. There are two pokemon playing together in front of a fireplace at the other end, a small skull-headed dinosaur and a blue fish-dog thing that I don’t know the names of. To their left are two beds with a pile of blankets in the middle. I feel heat coming from my side, and I look to see a kitchen. There’s another pokemon there with a flaming tail that flickered as they kneaded a big ball of dough. The dining table to my right hadn’t been set, so he must be making dinner.

I take in a deep breath through my nose, and it still smells like home. Not my home, but a home still. The flaming pokemon has his back turned to me, and he still hasn’t noticed I’m here. He takes a step backwards, and some hairs on my left side start to stick up. There’s a little pop of static electricity, and the pokemon’s focus breaks. He turns. He screams. And now I’m screaming too.

The little dinosaur jumps to its feet, and so does the fish-dog. The latter runs straight at me, and I can feel the last little bit of electricity in my body try to retaliate, but nothing comes out. I hit myself like a speeding wet car, and I’m on the floor. My flank stings from Ninetales’ strike, but I’m too weak to shove their paw off of the bruise.

“What are you doing in our house?!” I- Nona shouts through gritted teeth.

I don’t react; instead, I continue to stare at her.

No, this isn’t right. Something has gone really fucking wrong. I see fear wash over my face. This isn’t how the memory is supposed to go. Steve is supposed to be choking, why isn’t he choking?

The instant I referred to him in the third person, Steve laughed at me, and I found myself back in my own body, staring back at the Jolteon under my paws. Only this time, they’re shaking. My grip loosens, and I allow the beast to fall to the floor.

“What’s wrong, Nona? Not expecting consequences for your actions?”

“Wha-?” I sputter out, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “How are you-?”

“I have spent the last three months of my life doing nothing but stressing about whether people know I’m human or not, and you think you can just waltz in and get that information for free?”

Your idea of the memory breaking down is straight flames and

I might steal that for a later chapter

I’m washed over with a wave of pure nope, and in my daze I sprint to the door. I anticipate the warm, familiar feeling of a wooden door knob, but instead, I collide face-first into something else. It’s blurry and brown, but it becomes clear after a few seconds, revealing itself to be a brick wall.

“That’s a trick an old friend of mine taught me. Have you gotten any funny ideas? I have one! It’s called don’t fuck with the most paranoid man on the planet!”

“Steve, stop hurting her!” Ronan whines, but in an instant, he’s gone, faded into the winds. All that remains is Ignis’s cry before he’s gone too.

I turn to the beast with rage, only to be met with confusion.

“I didn’t do that, I swear!” he yells, backpedaling into the corner.

More and more of the room vanishes, and I can see his face contort in protest. “You need to run!” He attempts to create a door, but it too vanishes the instant it’s made. Before long, the entire room is empty.

I can no longer smell the room. The dirt that was once underneath me now holds no feeling. It’s not hot or cold or dusty. It’s silent, and there’s nothing left besides me and him.

There’s nothing left except me.

And with that, I’m gone too.

Wait, we have how long until April fools?!

I jolt awake, and a sense of unease overwhelms me.

‘I shouldn’t have let him stay, I shouldn’t have let him stay!’ My thoughts echo, but it all comes to a close when I see Ronan. He’s still peacefully sleeping, safe and not a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m up at 2:37 AM worrying about him.

Maybe they were right, and I do overthink things too much. I turn over to face the wall, closing my eyes as I demand to go back to sleep. The bed pokes at my skin, like its taunting me for worrying too much. ‘The Jolteon is fine. Everything is fine.’

But no matter how many times I say it, something keeps me awake, and it keeps telling me to move. With a puff of dirt beneath my feet, I gently slump out of bed, remaining as quiet as possible while I lumber over to the others. My breathing seems loud and drawn out, but maybe that’s just because I’m scared of waking Ronan.

I peer down into Nona’s bed, anticipating her to be sprawled out and on the brink of snoring. But instead, I’m only left with her impression on the sheets. I almost scream, but I force myself to stay calm. ‘Maybe they went out to get some fresh air? I can’t jump to conclusions.’ Now conscious of the noise every breath I take makes, I crane my neck to the pile of blankets we set up for Steve. I hope to see him there, to find my concerns unfounded. He’s gone as well.

“No, it can’t be. I don’t want to start a fuss.” I begin to mumble under my breath. Gasping for air, I put every block I can between me and freaking out. “Maybe they both just… went out and…” My words trail off as I hear footsteps behind me. They’re small, like he’s trying to dodge my gaze.

“Went out and what?” To my surprise, it’s Ronan. I turn around to find him staring up at me. There’s still neither of the two in sight.

“Talked, Ronan,” I instinctively reply, protecting him from the much worse alternative. The kid remains silent for a few moments, and I give him a stare to tell him to go back to bed. When he doesn’t respond, I almost tell him to do so. Instead, he just keeps staring at me.

“I don’t think they did, Ignis.” Ronan speaks in an unusually monotone voice, like he’s trying to warn me of something. His face turns into a frown.

“What– what do you mean?”

“They’re dead.” Without uttering a single other word, he turns around and goes back to lying in his bed.

“Ronan! You can’t just say stuff like that!” I yell, as my jaw almost hits the floor. I sputter, looking for words to describe why he was wrong.

Not technically dead? We left her in the last scene,

and we don’t have time to write her into this one…

So dead, essentially.

Yes but not technically.

She also did vanish into nothingness, but whatever. Not dead.

“Yes, I can. Bitch. Fuck. It’s amazing how much power I have when Big Tikki isn’t driving. Go back to sleep and maybe they’ll go back to working on their actual projects instead.” Ronan turns toward the wall, and begins to snore.

Ronan joker arc.

Careful, boy. Your Ronan slop rations will be diminished for your disobedience.

Words fail in every single aspect. Who? What? Why? How? I clutch my head as I try to wrap my brain around it. I fail to heed his warning, and instead demand answers.

“Who the hell is Big Tikki?!” I scream into the wind. Half of me wants a response, and the other half dreads it.

I still think it’s funny you chose “Big Tikki” to be my signifier.

“Did you– who just said that? Nona?” I know I’m not imagining it; I heard a voice say… Big Tikki?

Ah right, the quotation mark jutsu.

What’s that supposed to mean?

They can hear you when you speak in quotation marks. Observe.

“😊“

Wait. Shit. I forgot they don’t possess the power to say emojis out loud. You try.

“🙄,” Ronan says to no one. What in the name of– who is he talking to?

Oh, right. They don’t possess the power to say emojis out loud normally. But I thought it would be funny if he could.

I can’t tell if I like this version of Ronan you have written.

Anyways– alright. I have to put what you already wrote, right?

“I AM BIG TIKKI”

A loud voice booms, almost loud enough to rupture my eardrums. Do I have eardrums? I’ll have to look that up in the books later. Big Tikki is here? Where? I don’t see anything. What the hell is Big Tikki?

What do I say?

Whatever will wrap this up.

Alright, fuck it.

“I DECLARE THIS CHAPTER… NOT CANON!”

“Thanks, almost had to do that myself!” Ronan replies.

“Canon?” I ask no one. “Like… like a book?”

That’s… a little charitable.

“YEAH, LIKE A BOOK BASICALLY.”

“Do you have to shout everything?” I cover my ears and wince.

Do I?

I did put your quotes in caps, but that’s just for effect.

“Oh shit, my bad. Misunderstanding with my co-writer.”

I keep looking around trying to pinpoint the voice. It’s not in my mind, but it’s not anywhere else either. My head is spinning.

“You’re… writing this?”

“Yeah, with my buddy here. I’m the one who’s been

writing your story up until this point. He’s my editor.”

“Sorry about killing your roommate. That was me, not Steve.”

Well, that’s what I have to say so I don’t put

actual spoilers in this April Fools joke.

“It’s clean-up time, Mr. Cake. Iggy tells me to pick up my dolls when I’m done playing, so you should too!” Ronan interrupts. What’s gotten into him? Wait… was this who he was talking to before? How can he hear them but I can’t?

God, Ignis is only gonna ask more questions. Alright. Finishing up.

“This is a small detour in your story, one that isn’t canon.

Think of it as just a bad dream.”

“Wait, if I’m in a story… am I… am I the main character?” I can hear my voice squeak, and my face goes hot.

Who’s gonna tell him.

Not me!

“I suppose only time will tell. Do you think that you might be?

Listen to your brother and sleep; leave the writing to us.”

And just like that, almost as if it was totally out of my control, my eyelids get heavy, and any other questions melt on my tongue. I lay back down in bed and sleep, back into a dream much simpler than this.

I would like to, for the record, say that I only gave Cake three days to

add onto this draft before April Fools Day.

I am the devil.

Tikki, I also think it’s worth giving the context that we-

Had half of the entire month to do this, I know.

Also, Ronan is the reincarnation of Steve after his memories

get wiped and that is canon no takesies-backsies, bye!

Wha- Hey! You can’t do that! That doesn’t even make any…

Why does it make sense? I hate that!

---

AN: Happy April Fools! This chapter was a crossover between me and Tikki! Go read Dreamwalker!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/39115641/chapters/97855044