The night sky was fake, and Aranea knew it. Time had no meaning here. There was no day or night, only memories of day and night, and when ghosts chose to sleep mattered not. She had learned quickly that a nocturnal sleep schedule wasn't going to count for much here, and that she would fall asleep and wake up when she was ready. Not that sleeping wasn't also relative out here. When one went to sleep in the dreambubbles, one almost ceased existing for a while.

It wasn't easy sometimes, falling asleep. She supposed a lack of stimulation during the conscious phases could account for some of it. It was, after all, difficult to fall asleep when you were always dreaming. Then there was the loneliness, which she supposed was responsible for most of it. Even now, with her friend and descendant sleeping on the ground nearby, she'd never felt farther from another person.

On an ordinary night, that would be her rationalization, and that would be the end of it. But tonight wasn't ordinary.

The sky was an Earth sky; she could tell that much from the moon, white and luminous. On an ordinary night, she would wonder whose memory this was, and why it had come to them tonight. She would wonder why Vriska, a girl who could likely do anything but relax, had chosen to rest here before they moved forward. Perhaps she would even ask.

It was actually rather convenient, for once, that she had some space to herself in the little while she had left. If Vriska was awake then, there was no way she'd be getting her nerves together. There was no way she'd go through with it, she realized, and wondered if perhaps their resting here was fate, if she really was meant to do this.

The reality of what she was about to do finally hit her, causing a surge of excitement to rush through her. Finally, finally, she could change things for herself. She could feel natural. Free. It almost wasn't believable.

The moon and stars weren't moving, as could be expected of most memories. Memories revolved around what was going on around a person, not above them. Time is relative in all memories anyway. Nobody pays attention to how time is passing when it comes to the things they'll really remember.

There was no time. Soon, there would be. There was no time, but there was a deadline. She stared over Vriska and Meenah with the understanding that once they awoke, it would be too late. There was no way they'd let her be responsible for a plan like this. Vriska had already wanted it for herself.

She felt a grimace cross her face. Vriska couldn't do it anyway.

She couldn't be sure what caused her to walk over to where Meenah was. Maybe it was the loneliness, or the finality of it all. Maybe she was hoping something would change her mind. She certainly couldn't afford to rest, but a relative few more hours here couldn't hurt. It was as close as she would get to saying goodbye.

With Meenah sleeping peacefully, unaware of her presence, it was almost easy to forget the things she said, and the things she'd do to get her way. All Aranea had to do was focus on their closeness, on the ways Meenah actually made her happier, none of which was rooted in recent memories.

She found herself thinking back to them as children: Meenah sticking up for her to classmates, teaching her to swim, listening to her reading on and on throughout the night… These were the memories Aranea would turn to when she was angry with her, when she needed to remind herself that she loved Meenah. She found herself crying for how far away they felt, for accepting that they were gone, and she was too.

She found herself lying down beside her as she did when they were kids. Half-asleep, Meenah turned towards her.

"Aranea?" Meenah put an arm around her. "That you?"

Aranea swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah. It's me."

Meenah sighed happily, snuggling closer. She had always been fairly affectionate physically when she wasn't acting aloof. Aranea hated knowing she'd have to be the one to pry away later. Wondering if things could ever have ended up any differently, she knew there was one question she'd need answered before she could ever move on.

"Meenah?"

"Mm?"

"Meenah… if the game hadn't ended up… I mean, if Skaia wasn't…" She paused a moment, collecting her thoughts. Leave it to Meenah to be the one person who could confuse them. Aranea took a shaky breath, afraid of the answer she'd get.

"Were you ever really going to come home?"

Meenah's face twisted in confusion for a moment, then suddenly dropped. Their deal. She had to remember their deal. She sighed sadly, sounding exhausted.

"No," she confessed, though Aranea had suspected it from the beginning. "Sorry, Serket."

So I was ending up alone anyway, Aranea reasoned. Meenah would never have wanted to come back to her. No amount of waiting or bargaining would have changed that.

"And you still believe it was the right thing to do?" She asked matter-of-factly.

"Was the only thing to do. I was," she paused, yawning. "trapped. It's... not fun, Serket."

Aranea turned behind her, looking over at Vriska, who was still sleeping, and considered all of her fruitless attempts at impressing her.

"I know."

And with that, she moved closer to her, deciding it was worth a few more hours with her after all, and deciding for certain that she was leaving once she fell asleep.

"Sea ya tomorrow, Serket." Meenah sighed, relaxing once more.

"Sleep well, Meenah."

And she lay there beside Meenah, staring up at the still moon, storing up frustration over her lost friendship. She would need it, she decided, if she was to keep her resolve.

Upon being certain that Meenah was deeply asleep, she slowly pulled herself from her arms and stood. Stomach sick, hands shaking, filled with the need to move forward, she was gone before the memory of Earth's sun, appearing through the tower window upon Vriska's awakening, first shone into Meenah's eyes.