Author Note:
I usually don't write sad stories, but this idea came to me one day and I just had to write it.
I wanted to explore other kinds of situations that could arise from visiting fractured dimensions. And the emotions involved with making difficult choices that come with destroying another dimension. I wasn't really a fan of how the game treated alternate dimensions. They felt like they had no real significance at the end of the day. So I wanted to play around more with the idea of fractured dimensions.
I'm also super obsessed with Alvin's backstory, so I love any excuse I can find to play around with it.
Crown of Gold; Heart of Stone
Leaning against a wall in one of Trigleph's busier shopping districts, Alvin hardly notices the throng of people passing by. He's too busy playing some game on his GHS that Leia sent him the other day. It's pretty addicting, not that he'd ever admit it. At the very least, he figures he'll try to beat Leia's high score, though so far even that seems like a long shot.
He's also conveniently ignoring the fact that he should be looking for the divergence catalyst in this fractured dimension he had just entered. The group had split up and he and Jude had gone off in one direction. After Jude had wandered off to check on something, Alvin was left waiting with nothing to do.
He gets another Game Over and curses under his breath before deciding to switch back to his text messages. Nothing new, but it gives him something to do instead of dwelling on the fact that he might never beat Leia's high score.
He's in the middle of reading an old conversation with Jude when he hears someone call his name.
"Alfred?"
He glances over his GHS toward the direction of the voice to find an older woman heading in his direction. It takes him a second to realize just who she is. When he does, he can feel his blood suddenly go cold in his veins.
"It is you!"
Alvin doesn't even hear the sound of his GHS hitting the ground. He's too busy staring at the woman in front of him.
"Mom…?"
The woman standing before him is without a doubt his mother. Except her hair isn't grey like he remembers. It's a rich chestnut brown that he hadn't seen in years. The stress of life in Rieze Maxia had turned her hair grey long ago back in the prime dimension.
Leticia looks almost as shocked as Alvin does. Almost like she can't believe he's right there, in front of her. "I…" She glances up at Alvin. "I never expected to run into you here, of all places."
Alvin isn't sure of how to answer that. There's too much he doesn't know. He didn't even pay attention to Vera's report to Ludger before they stepped into this world. He's done this so many times by now that he's mostly become numb to the process of destroying entire worlds. Now he wishes he'd at least listened.
In the back of his mind he thinks that it's odd that his mother in this dimension is surprised to find him on a busy street in Trigleph, but he shelves that thought for now.
"I, um… it's been awhile, hasn't it…?" He hopes that's the answer she'd expect.
His mother nods. "Yes, yes it has…"
The way she says it seems odd, though at the moment Alvin couldn't care less.
"I'm sorry," he continues as he strains to think of how to continue the conversation. "For being gone for so long."
Leticia wipes at her eyes. Alvin's not sure why she's crying but he desperately wants to know why.
"It's fine, it's fine. I'm just so glad to see you…"
She reaches out for Alvin's hand and he grasps it between his own. "Me too," he answers.
She invites him home for a bit and Alvin can't bring himself to say no. He makes up a half-assed lie about having some business to take care of but having time for a break. As he follows his mother through the streets of Trigleph, he ignores the voice in his head practically screaming at him about how terrible of an idea this is. This is a fractured dimension, it reminds him. Inevitably this world must be destroyed. Getting attached is the last thing he should ever do.
He quickly sends out a text to Jude on his now slightly beaten up GHS.
Something came up. Don't worry about me. I'll be in touch.
...
The house where his mother lives isn't the house he grew up in. Still, it's a spacious house for one person in one of the nicer parts of Trigleph. Hell, he's surprised she can even afford a house at all considering how much prices have gone up in the city. And why does she live alone? Is his father also dead in this world? Is Gilland dead, too? And what about his counterpart…?
He's too afraid to even ask. Deep down he'd rather not know.
She immediately starts doting over him as soon as they arrive, insisting on hanging up his coat and retying his scarf to be more even. Alvin can feel his heart practically bursting and he's not sure whether he wants to cry or just laugh. Maybe both.
"You said you had some business in town?" His mother asks as she sets out a snack for him. Animal crackers – one of his favorites.
Alvin nods and tries replying through a mouthful of crackers. "I'm-"
She laughs and warns him, "Finish your crackers first, Alfred."
And suddenly Alvin's a kid again sitting in the dining room of his house scarfing down dinner, his mother scolding him before he inevitably almost chokes on the food. He never did quite learn better, now that he thinks about it.
He does as he's told before continuing, "Yeah, I'm a merchant nowadays. So I have to travel a lot." He doesn't bother going into detail because he at least realizes that Elympios never made contact with Rieze Maxia in this dimension.
"Oh, is that so? That sounds exciting. You always were very good at working with others."
Alvin starts laughing, which turns into a cough. Well, he supposes that's one way of looking at it. Even in the past he was pretty good at getting people to cooperate with him… even if he ended up betraying them in the end. Turns out getting others to trust you isn't the hard part, it's maintaining that trust that's difficult.
The conversation continues from there with Alvin telling his mother as much as he's comfortable revealing about what he's been up to the past few years. If he's vague enough he shouldn't sound too suspicious, he hopes.
...
He lays awake at night in his comfortable, though small, guest room bed; staring at the ceiling.
His mom's alive in this world. The fact keeps repeating itself in his head over again and over again. He shouldn't be that surprised, really. One of the first times he'd entered a fractured dimension he'd met Gilland who had mentioned his mother as well. A lot of things can vary in a fractured dimension as far as he's seen. Yet something about this particular world seems different. Off, even.
Alvin knows he's missing something here. A part of a puzzle he can't quite grasp yet. As reluctant as he is to say too much, he noticed that even his mother seems to be holding back. When you become as good a liar as Alvin is, you get a sixth sense for the lies of others.
He could ask his mother. He could dig through the house looking for clues while she's asleep. But he doesn't. Part of him entertains the thought of remaining here for the rest of his life, wrapped in a comfortable blanket of ignorance. He glances over to his GHS, though it hasn't buzzed in a few hours. He supposes Jude must have given up once the sun set.
Alvin? What came up?
Where are you? Are you okay?
Alvin, what's going on? Why are you being so elusive?!
Alvin…?
As Alvin expected of the honor's student, he's too smart to just accept Alvin's vague texts assuring him that he's fine at face value. Alvin wonders how long he can keep this charade going.
I'm fine. Just let me know when you find the catalyst.
He feels guilty sending that as his last text message, but he can't face Jude and the others. Not yet. He wants to do whatever he can before they find the catalyst and destroy this world. It's selfish, Alvin admits, but just this once since he had committed to living an honest life, he doesn't care.
...
He wakes up bright and early the next day and ends up helping his mother around the house; fixing small things that she hadn't been able to do herself and hadn't yet called someone to come and fix.
"Really, you don't need to…" his mother insists as Alvin finishes detaching a light fixture.
Alvin's already standing at the top of a step ladder, a screw driver held in his mouth as he changes the light bulb, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It only takes a minute or two and when he's done he steps down, burnt out bulb in one hand and screwdriver in the other.
He grins. "Don't worry about it. Just makes this hallway safer, you know?" He gestures to the now illuminated hallway.
His mother laughs. "You make it sound as though I'm in danger of tripping and falling over something. I assure you, Alfred, I'm not that old yet."
Alvin can't help it and soon enough they're both laughing. He runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment. "I know you aren't, Mom…"
Replacing a light bulb progresses to fixing the fence gate in front of the house. When Alvin misses a nail and hits his thumb, crying out with a word he'd rather not say around his mother, she runs out into the yard right away with a first aid kit.
She ends up wrapping his thumb in a bandage and, much to Alvin's embarrassment, kissing it.
"Even now you like to get in over your head, don't you?"
Alvin pulls an expression that's as close to a pout as he'll ever allow. "Hey, I just messed up! No way I'll let this fence get the better of me."
"Well thank you. I really appreciate it." She smiles up at him and Alvin can feel his face heating up.
Soon enough she heads out to do some grocery shopping and assures Alvin that she'll return soon enough.
An hour later, Alvin's just finished hanging the recently washed laundry to dry in the back of the house. For once, he lets himself stop and gaze up at the overcast sky. Elympios hardly has any weather due to the lack of spirits, yet even today the sky seems oddly picturesque. The sun is just visible peeking out over the edge of a cloud and small rays of light can be seen extending from the sky to the land below in the distance.
It's moments like this where everything else falls away, and for a moment Alvin can pretend that this is normal. That this is his actual life.
...
He finds a picture of this world's version of himself and his mother next to a rather fancy urn on the mantelpiece in the living room. They're standing in front of what he recognizes to be the house he grew up in. His arm is around his mother's shoulder and they're both smiling. Yet something seems strained about his counterpart's expression. As though he's trying his best to keep his smile convincing. Alvin knows that look all too well.
He guesses he must have been about 18 in that picture, not that that helps him figure out the context in which it was taken. It's just another piece in the puzzle he's been assembling in his mind since the day before. A puzzle that he doesn't even have half the pieces to yet.
Hanging next to the picture on the mantelpiece is what Alvin had assumed was some dried flowers tied into a wreath. On closer inspection, he realizes with a gasp that they're light leaf clovers. They've long since lost most of their shine, yet they've clearly been preserved with great care. It reminds him of that time when he painted some regular clovers as a present for his mom's birthday since he couldn't find any real ones. There's no doubt, though, that these are the real thing.
He wonders where his mother was able to find so many.
...
When his mother returns home, she shoos him out of the kitchen, insisting that what she's cooking is a surprise and she won't have him spoil it.
"What do you mean it's a surprise?" Alvin asks in a petulant tone.
His mother lightly pushes him out of the kitchen. "You'll see!"
"Awww, but I wanna know now," he complains half-heartedly.
She chuckles. "And that would ruin the surprise." She ties her apron behind her back and stands in the doorway to the kitchen. "But since you've insisted on being so helpful today, would you mind organizing some of the boxes up in the attic? I'm afraid the place has become a bit of a mess over the last few years…"
Alvin shrugs. "Fine, fine. I see how it is." He laughs and turns away with a half-hearted wave and heads into the hallway.
"And no snooping in on the kitchen!" She adds, calling after him. "Don't think I'm not paying attention!"
"I know!" Alvin calls from the other end of the hallway.
The attic proves to be a bit messier than he thought. Boxes are strewn everywhere with a few even lying on their sides, contents spilling out onto the floor.
"Guess I bit off more than I can chew this time," he mutters to himself as he runs a hand through his hair in annoyance. This'll take a bit longer than he thought.
Despite his grumbling, organizing the attic does prove to be rewarding. He finds a box full of what seems to be his counterpart in this world's old clothing. It's mostly old uniforms from his boarding school and various formal attire, but it does get him thinking. He recalls this world's version of his mother being surprised to see him in Trigleph; saying that he'd been gone for years. His father doesn't appear to be around, either. And Gilland… he has no idea. The thought nags at him as he continues stacking boxes around the attic.
It's as he's finishing up that he finds yet another piece of the puzzle he's slowly assembling in his head. Sticking out from one of the stacks of boxes he made is a crinkled picture that he'd missed before.
It's an old picture, that's for sure. One that he recognizes. He remembers Trigleph port on that day all too well. Two men are standing side by side in the picture. The one on the left is smiling faintly, though the picture is faded there, obscuring the rest of his face. The other is glowering as he glances away from the camera.
There's no mistaking it, it's a picture of his father and his uncle the day they went aboard the E.S.S. Zenethra.
He pockets it for later.
...
The surprise turns out to be dinner made especially for him with all of his favorite dishes. And to top it all off…
"A peach pie for dessert," his mother announces happily.
The smell alone almost has Alvin drooling. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Geez, Mom… you didn't need to go all out like this."
"Oh, it was nothing," she insists. "Consider it a reward for all of your hard work today. Go ahead, I'm sure you're famished by now."
Alvin helps himself to all of his favorites, yet when he reaches for the peach pie his mother bats his hand away.
"Dessert comes after dinner. I remember you used to make yourself sick when you were a boy; stuffing your face with pie before you'd even touched your dinner."
Alvin can't help chuckling. He does remember that. "Sorry…" he mutters before starting his meal.
They chat a little over dinner, though Alvin can't help feeling that there's something unsaid hanging between them. As though they're standing on opposite ends of a large crevasse. If he never left Elympios in this world… then his memories would probably only match up to a point. He wonders if his mother has noticed yet.
"Hey, Mom…" he says hesitantly up after finishing his meal. "I found this in the attic while I was cleaning up…" He takes out the old crinkled picture and pushes it towards his mother across the table.
"What's this?" She picks up the picture and immediately her smile falters. "Ah, to think that I'd have just left this lying about. I had been wondering where this picture had gone…"
"Sorry, didn't mean to bring up painful memories." Alvin feels guilty, but there's something he has to know. "It just got me thinking about back then."
"It seems so long ago now, doesn't it? We were all supposed to board that ship together, but you got sick and I just couldn't bear to leave you behind with a nanny. And your father and Gillandor…" She shakes her head. "I suppose Fate works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?"
That's all Alvin needs to hear. "Yeah, Fate can be cruel, that's for sure…" So it had been just him and his mother in this dimension.
The peach pie is just as delicious as Alvin remembers. Somehow his mom knows how to get the most out of Elympios's lower quality fruit. Even Jude's pie made with fresh Rieze Maxian produce can't compare. Or maybe he's just biased.
...
He ends up just as he was the night before, staring at the ceiling of the house's guest room. Thanks to the big meal he just finished he is kind of sleepy, yet he can't seem to fall asleep just yet.
Alvin, please! Tell us where you are!
He'd replied to Jude again shortly afterward.
Can't tell you right now. I'll explain later, ok?
Alvin knows he has to come clean tomorrow. He can't keep pretending that this is where he belongs. It was nice living out this cute little fantasy for a day, but this isn't his life.
Part of him wonders if there's another way. Elle's got the ability to bring people from fractured dimensions into the prime dimension, doesn't she? Alvin wonders how everyone would react if he tried to bring his mother back with him. Would he be willing to beg until Ludger and the others let him do something so selfish?
He wants to try. More than anything he wants to. He's not sure if he'd be able to forgive himself if he didn't. He feels like he's been given a second chance in a way he never imagined possible. So how can he just walk away from something like this?
As he drifts off to sleep, he wonders what this world's divergence catalyst could possibly be if Jude and the others hadn't found it even after almost two days.
...
His mother cooks his favorite breakfast, too. By the time he steps into the kitchen there's eggs, bacon, and sausage waiting for him on the table.
His mother turns away from the fridge to face him; her smile no different than it was yesterday. "Good morning, Alfred. I just finished making breakfast; so feel free to dig in."
"Good morning, Mom." Alvin answers with as much cheerfulness as he can muster. He does as he's told. The eggs have just the right amount of yolk left on the inside, just like he likes them. He wonders for the fiftieth time since waking up how he can just leave all this behind.
An uneasy silence hangs over the room as they both have their meal. When Alvin glances across the table, he notices that his mother is avoiding his gaze. Has she finally figured him out?
Right then, Alvin considers confessing the truth to his mother and trying to convince her to come back to the prime dimension with him.
She would understand, wouldn't she?
Before he can speak, however, his mother turns her gaze back to him with a half-smile. It catches Alvin off guard.
She sets down her fork and knife and states in an oddly easygoing tone, "I know you aren't my son."
Alvin drops his fork. The clatter of it hitting the plate seems to fill the room. "I…" He was right. She saw right through him, after all. "Look, I-I can explain."
"I think I should be the one doing the explaining." His mother glances down at her trembling hands. "You see, my son Alfred died five years ago in a train accident."
Alvin can feel the blood drain from his face. That was the last thing he had expected to hear.
"Years after his father and uncle went missing at sea, he insisted on becoming head of the Svent family when he was only twelve. With no other direct heir, it was that or allowing a situation that would've amounted to a long series of infighting among other branches of the family. I was against it, of course. But…"
She pauses to collect herself.
"He hated it. It was terribly stressful and he couldn't stand having to socialize with the people that considered themselves the elite of society. Alfred always told me that they struck him as nothing more than vicious parasites feeding off of others to make their lives just a little more convenient. Yet he never stepped down."
"Sounds like a good son," Alvin answers, his voice hollow.
That brings a smile back to Leticia's face. "Oh yes, he was. I felt terrible, you know. Much of the reason that Alfred kept going even though he hated what he was doing was for my sake…" She pauses for a moment to glance back up at Alvin. "This house was purchased for me with money he had saved over the years. I found out soon after his death that he had indicated in his will that a large sum of his money would go directly to me." She shakes her head. "I didn't even realize he had drawn up a will! And so here I am, living comfortably thanks to my one and only son."
"Mo-" Alvin stops himself. He doesn't have the right to call her his mother. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" Alvin knows the charade is over by now.
She cuts him off. "I know you weren't trying to deceive me." She points to the fancy urn on the mantelpiece in the other room. "You see, I keep my son's ashes there. They serve as a constant reminder that he can never come back. When I saw you the other day, I thought I was seeing a ghost. In broad daylight of all things!" She chuckles a bit to herself. "But why was my son older? How come he didn't seem to remember all of the years we had spent together?"
Alvin glances back at the mantelpiece and suddenly everything makes sense. The picture of the two of them together. The fancy looking urn… he never would have guessed. With the light leaf clover crown hanging there, those are probably all she has left of her dead son.
"I desperately wanted to believe that my son had come back to me somehow. Like those fairy tales I used to hear as a child where the princess makes a wish to some spirits and has her heart's desire granted. It was terribly selfish of me. I… apologize for lying to you."
Alvin bows his head, guilt welling up inside of him. He should be the one apologizing.
"I blame myself, really." She sighs. "After all, the dead can't come back to life."
"No…" Alvin answers, heart heavy. "They can't, Mom."
"Thank you, Alfred," she says, which catches Alvin off guard. Before he can answer, she continues, "I enjoyed these past two days with you. You may not be my son, but you're Alfred all the same. That much I am certain of."
"But Mom, I… I…" Alvin can't think of what to say. His throat is dry and anything he tries to say refuses to come out. He knows this feeling, though it's been years.
She reaches across the table and places a hand on Alvin's. "You don't have to apologize. I'm not sure of what your circumstances are, but I can only imagine you're here for a reason."
Alvin nods.
And then Alvin thinks back to fractured Milla and how much she suffered being separated from the world she had known all her life. The isolation of knowing everyone she had ever cared about was gone.
He could never do that to his own mother.
"Here, I'll show you something before you leave." She gets up and heads toward the mantelpiece over the fireplace in the room across from the kitchen.
Without another word, Alvin stands up and follows her.
Leticia reaches for the carefully preserved wreath of light leaf clovers hanging under the picture of her son.
Smiling, she holds it out for Alvin to see. "My son made this for me many years ago. I remember hearing from Balan how he'd begged him to help him make this. It took my son months of tireless searching to find enough of these clovers. All for my sake."
Alvin glances down at what he now realizes is the crown he had made for his own mother so long ago. Except this one was made of the real thing. The light coming from the window hits it at an angle, illuminating the clovers in an odd way.
Suddenly, Alvin realizes just why Jude and the others hadn't found this world's divergence catalyst yet. Call it a hunch, but he's sure he's right.
"I want you to have it," his mother says.
Alvin's eyes widen in surprise. "But Mom, I'm not-"
She laughs again, light and cheerful. "You may not be the son I grew up with. But as I said before, I know you're Alfred all the same. At the very least, it's something to remind me that we were able to meet like this."
Alvin accepts the crown gratefully. Funny how light something so important feels in his hands.
He's jealous of this world's version of him, to be honest. To think that this other Alfred had worked so hard to accomplish something Alvin himself hadn't been capable of. This crown seems to represent the difference between himself and his counterpart in this dimension. How appropriate, he thinks to himself.
Alvin pulls his mother into a tight embrace and practically buries his face in her hair.
"Thank you, Mom. Thank you so much…" He isn't going to cry, he tells himself. Not right now in front of his mother.
His mother hugs back. "I should be the one thanking you. I'm so happy I was able to see you again like this."
When Alvin pulls back, his mother's smiling up at him, tears in her eyes.
Alvin offers her a lopsided smile. "I'll never forget this day, I promise."
"Nor will I," his mother says.
...
Meet me at the Trigleph seahaven docks in an hour.
Jude isn't sure of what to make of Alvin's brief text he received an hour ago. Alvin had been cryptic through text messages for the past two days as Jude tried to figure out his whereabouts while searching in vain for this dimension's catalyst. What he couldn't understand is why Alvin would be so secretive. He said he was out finding the catalyst, but what could he find by looking on his own?
Milla and Ludger are standing close by, both of them just as worried as Jude. Elle is at Ludger's side holding Rollo in her arms, seemingly just as worried as everyone else. Milla had even suggested sending out the Four just to look for Alvin in the city.
Just as Jude's about to send Alvin another text, he spots the man himself walking down the steps of the seahaven toward them.
"Alvin!" Jude calls out as he heads toward him. He has a million questions, but before he can ask any of them Alvin simply holds something out with his left hand.
Jude can't quite tell what it is from where he's standing.
"What… is that?"
"I'm pretty sure I know what the catalyst is," Alvin answers without addressing Jude's question. He's gazing insistently away from Jude and the others. "Sorry it took me so long to find it."
Upon closer inspection, Jude realizes it's a decoration of some sort created by weaving some kind of flower together. The color of the plant looks to have faded a long time ago, but Jude knows he's seen that type of flower before.
Before Jude can ask Alvin about it, the woven flowers hanging from Alvin's hand reacts to Ludger and starts to glow an ominous dark purple color. Alvin winces as though unhappy that his guess was right.
Ludger looks to Jude before proceeding. Jude simply nods. Jude turns to see Milla focusing on Alvin. She, too, seems to notice that something is up.
Alvin drops the catalyst to the ground and steps back.
As Ludger destroys the catalyst, Jude feels that familiar floating sensation as the world around them seems to shatter. Darkness surrounds them and then suddenly they're standing in the Trigleph seahaven in their own dimension.
Alvin's already heading in the other direction while throwing a half-hearted wave their way.
"Sorry to run off like this," Alvin answers, his tone flat. "But I've got some business to attend to."
Jude turns to see Ludger frowning as he watches Alvin leave.
Clearly deep in thought, Milla turns to Jude. "That was awfully strange, even for Alvin."
Elle pulls on Jude's lab coat. "Is Alvin gonna be okay? He's been acting really weird lately."
And then suddenly the realization hits him. The ornament wasn't just any kind of flower. He remembers that story that Balan had told them back when they'd first met. There's only one place where Alvin could have gotten something like that, he realizes.
"I think I know where he's going," Jude answers hesitantly. "Um, I'll explain it later."
"Is it okay to leave him alone like this?" Milla asks.
"I'll catch up with him in a bit," Jude assures her. "But I think for now, he needs some time alone.
Both Ludger and Milla look puzzled. Elle just looks concerned.
Jude holds his hands up in front of him. "Don't worry! I think he'll be okay."
Jude certainly hopes so, anyway.
...
-Ten months ago-
Not long after he had made it back to Elympios, Alvin found himself standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean.
As per custom in Xian Du, Alvin had received his mother's ashes shortly after her death. People often used the ashes of their ancestors in various rituals and festivals invoking the old beliefs that still thrived in that area.
She'd always said how much she loved the sea. His father had decided to take the family on a cruise because he'd hoped that traveling out to sea would cheer her up.
Finding a spot like this had taken awhile given how much the ocean had receded. Elympios really did seem worse than he remembered it.
Alvin shook his head. No point in waxing sentimental over things. He pulled the small clay pot he'd been holding under one arm out. As soon as he did, the wind picked up, blowing some of his hair in his face as the howling of the wind mingled with the crashing of the waves below.
He wanted to laugh. Talk about perfect timing. Maybe he had Milla to thank for that.
As soon as he took the lid off of the pot and allowed its contents to drift out, the wind whistled past and Alvin watched as the ashes of his mother were carried away.
"Happy birthday, Mom," he whispered as her ashes scattered out over the sea.
...
And now, almost a year later, Alvin finds himself standing before his mother's grave. He honestly can't even remember his walk to the cemetery. His mind feels numb, as though he's only acting on instinct.
It had taken some work for Alvin to get graves for his parents added to the Svent family grave site in one of Elympios's most well-kept cemeteries. He'd even requested that Gilland have his own grave. The graves were empty, of course, but at least this way they wouldn't be forgotten.
The epitaph on his mother's grave wasn't anything special. It simply read, 'Here lies Leticia Svent, beloved wife and mother.' No words seemed to do justice to his memories of his mother.
Kneeling down before the grave, Alvin reaches out and places a hand on the stone. It's cool to the touch. Not that that surprises him.
He's not sure what the point in coming here is. What did an empty grave have to offer him?
And then he thinks back to how only an hour ago, he had held his mother in his arms.
Destroying that world feels almost like betraying the woman who had invited him into her home. But he reminds himself that it couldn't be helped. That unlike in the past, his actions weren't motivated purely by his own selfish desires. He'd come to accept the reality of destroy alternate worlds not long after all this had started.
Here in the prime dimension, all he has is this carved piece of marble. That was his reality.
The prime dimension is supposed to be the "real" dimension, isn't it? Alvin wonders if that means that whatever happens in this world happens as it's supposed to. As Fate has intended it to happen.
Right now, however, he doesn't care about Origin's Trial or fractured dimensions or whatever the hell else he's supposed to be worried about. At the end of the day, people are people no matter what the higher powers think. And to Alvin, that's all that matters as he kneels before his mother's grave.
The tears come before he can even stop them. He hears himself start to sob and he doesn't even care anymore. His shoulders shaking, Alvin lets himself cry for the first time in years.
...
Alvin stumbles home and only manages to remove his shoes, jacket, and scarf before collapsing face first onto his bed. Even drinking seems pointless right now. No amount of alcohol could do anything to fill the empty void in his chest.
He drifts off to a dreamless sleep, the image of his mother's warm smile burned into his mind.
...
Alvin wakes up to the smell of pancakes and coffee wafting in from his kitchen. Slowly, he forces himself up from his bed; wrinkled dress shirt and all. He's sure his hair is a total mess right now and he couldn't care less. By the time he steps into the kitchen, he's down to an undershirt and his boxers.
Standing in front of the stove is Jude, who turns toward him and waves cheerfully.
"Hope you don't mind. I let himself in."
Alvin shrugs and sits down at the small table. He's absolutely starving but says nothing.
Without a word, Jude pushes a steaming cup of coffee toward him. The scent wakes him up somewhat. He finally glances up to find Jude smiling softly at him, concern all too plain in the kid's features. Alvin accepts the cup gratefully and takes a sip. It's coffee, all right. Black, just the way he likes it.
Sitting down across from him, Jude sets down his own plate stacked with pancakes. His expression is serious, now. "If you want to talk about it, you know I'm always willing to listen."
"I know," Alvin answers, voice low and hoarse.
Neither speak after that as Alvin drinks his coffee as if that's the only thing he knows how to do and Jude quietly eats his breakfast.
When Alvin's feeling more like himself, he speaks up. "Sorry, by the way. For making you worry."
Jude shakes his head. "It's okay."
Alvin's GHS that had somehow ended up on the table buzzes. He picks it up to find two text messages from Leia.
From the night before:
Hey u OK? Jude said you were feelin kinda down.
The one that she just sent has a much different tone.
Btw, don't worry about beating my high score cuz I just topped it!
Alvin can't help barking out a laugh.
Jude glances up from his food. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I think so."
He still feels like crap, but that's par for the course. As he glances down at his cup of coffee, he thinks back to the day before. He won't forget. That much he can do for his mother in that other dimension. Despite living in comfort, she had seemed so lonely without her son. Alvin still wonders if he did the right thing. At the very least, he thinks he now understands his mother in this world more. The best thing he can do to honor her memory is continue to live as he is now.
Glancing across the table at Jude, he thinks that his mother shouldn't worry about her son too much.
"Alvin?" Jude tilts his head to the side a bit.
"Thanks," is all Alvin says as he finishes his coffee.
Comments/reviews are welcome. Thanks for reading!