Apologies for not updating sooner! School's finally managed to catch up to me, unfortunately. Nonetheless, I thank you all for the general support you've given me for the story! :D
(Shout-out to Unknown too, for bearing my rants in the PMs and to Red the Pokemon Master for spotting my obscure Scooby Doo reference XD)
To make it up to you guys: here's a 3.3k chapter!
Smiley woke up while I started up the console. I felt her stir on the couch I was leaning on, sitting on the floor, facing the TV. I turned my head to see her rubbing her eyes and looking around, before finally resting her gaze at me, "How'd I get here?"
"Mr. Munch offered to drive us over to my place," I explained, setting down the controller on the floor. She stared at me for a bit before slowly glancing out the window.
I blinked.
"It's only five in the afternoon," I said, waving over to the clock over the TV, "You weren't out for long."
"Okay…," Smiley whispered out, slowly getting up. I looked down at the controller, then to the screen where the pause menu was up.
"Wanna play some video games?" I offered, "I can teach you if you don't know how to."
She shook her head, "Not right now, thanks. I really just can't look at the screen. It's too bright."
"Okay," I returned, shutting down the game along with the TV instead, and turned to her. Smiley was sitting up on the edge of the couch, and I climbed up to the opposite end, facing her. She was staring at her hands, her eyes looking like she was somewhere else despite sitting in front of me.
I didn't think I'd see it here in front of me. The thousand-yard stare. And in Smiley's, of all people's eyes, too.
"Do you have…weird dreams? Sometimes?" she said, in a voice so quiet I didn't think I heard her the first time. Smiley curled up into a ball, circling her arms around her bent legs. She stared at the floor.
I grimaced. Not now. I wasn't in the mood to talk about this now. I still didn't know if whatever was up there could read minds, "…Yeah. I really, really don't think we should talk about it right now, though."
Smiley's eyes slowly drifted to a point just behind me, half-lidded and dull. She nodded once before placing her head in her arms and went silent.
Sometimes I wonder if my friends see more than I do, witness what's actually happening even in the safety of the sun. I know Zack might, when he jumped out my window at my suggestion. Smiley here hasn't given any sort of clear hints, and Phred is…an enigma in and of himself. He wasn't giving anyone anything and it was kind of pissing me off.
"I'll cook for dinner," I offered once that train of thought faded.
"Sure," was Smiley's muffled answer. I felt something in my chest twinge and I moved to stand.
Nothing much happened, really. Smiley practically regressed into herself, not even replying when I tried to make a conversation with her. It was…wrong. Smiley almost always replied, no matter who or how anyone spoke to her. Even 5, when he tried to insult the yellow-ish skin she'd inherited from her Asian grandmother, she'd turned the other cheek and left.
(Of course, one day 5 had come into the classroom so spooked he was paler than Zack, and when Smiley came in he'd inconspicuously try to avoid her. Smiley was a lot of things, a doormat wasn't one of them.)
And now she was…this. Miserable. And I couldn't do anything to help her. Nothing I could do that she'd let, anyway.
So I went up, got some extra blankets, gave her to them ad bid her goodnight before going upstairs to sleep in my room.
That was yesterday. We're in school now, we're walking down the usual sub-par halls of the school, and I wanted answers. Needed answers. But all I needed to do was to look at Smiley to know she wasn't feeling well enough for whatever interrogation I'd be doing, and Phred was still keeping up his disappearing act.
Zack was…
"Phil, our class is over here," Smiley called out, her voice still dull and tired. I turned away from the door across from her and mumbled an apology when I reached our actual classroom. She smiled, brought a hand up to pat my shoulder and went in ahead of me. It was only when she sat down that I noticed.
Phred was back.
Phred was back and he was at the front of the room asking for chalk from Mr. Munch with one hand out.
I narrowed my eyes, hands on the straps of my backpack tightening.
Mr. Munch gave it over without so much as a "why?" and I wasn't particularly surprised. Mr. Munch was…nice. Not particularly bright but he was nice.
Phred caught my poorly veiled glare and shrugged once before walking over to the desk farthest from my own.
I grit my teeth, but tried to hold in the curse storm trying to climb up my throat because not only would that do nothing but get me in trouble, it'd just upset Smiley. She didn't need to deal with my bull when she was already half-dead on her feet.
I sighed, tried not to glare too much at Phred and went to my seat.
Unsurprisingly, Phred shot out the classroom the second school was out. Literally, bolted out the class without a single drop of subtlety. I was amazed he even had the energy for it.
I was stuck trying to somehow telepathically get Phred drag his ass back here to answer me while Smiley was chatting excitedly with Mr. Munch about his Morse code book. He'd brought it today as an example for something or another, and Smiley had lit up the entire classroom when she saw it. I think she said something about wanting to learn it way back when. Meh.
I was deep into thinking up ways to creatively lynch Phred for ditching me time and again for almost a week now when Smiley tapped my shoulder to get my attention. I turned to see a large, black book with the words Morse Code for Beginners emblazoned in the front.
"Please don't tell me you're going to stay up all night to read that," I groaned.
Smiley grinned, "I'm not you, Phil. I know when to take a break."
"Oh sure," I sneered, "Because losing sleep is completely a good way to stay healthy."
"Better than gorging your face with candy bars when you're sick," Smiley retorted, packing the book away in her bag.
"…I was hungry," I insisted, even when we both knew she got me with that one, "You can't blame a sick person eating easy-to-reach nutrition when he can't cook."
She laughed at my face while we walked out the door and into the hallways, "Nutrition? You really haven't been listening in Science, have you?"
"There's nutrition in there somewhere," I said dismissively, waving a lazy hand in the air between us.
"Only the kind that's bad for you."
"Now if only you'd use that hidden sass of yours at teachers", I sighed out, "We'd be such a great team."
A small chuckle came out her lips, and I smiled while I pushed the main doors open to let us both out, "I'm taking that as a yes."
"Whatever you need to sleep, Philly," she smirked, and I cackled in reply before we fistbumped.
Well. Phred may be slowly spiraling out of my life, and Zack was gone, but Smiley was here. And for now, she was more than enough.
That was more or less how the week passed. Smiley and I going to school, going through the motions. The usual.
…Okay, I'm a bad liar it seems.
Smiley's health wasn't getting any better, even when I wet full-on mom on her during the last three days. She just couldn't keep up anymore. On anything.
Not that she'd be able to, anyway. I'd discover why in about three days from the day I noticed her walking lopsidedly, wincing with every step:
"You okay?" I asked her, brows furrowing. We were walking home from school when I saw her doing it. Step, wince, flinch, step, repeat process.
Smiley waved a hand dismissively in the air, but we both knew she wasn't being even remotely convincing, not when her face was contorted in pain, "It's nothing. Just tired."
"You look like you're walking over a bed of coal," I pointed out, stopping at the middle of the sidewalk. Cars whizzed by, wind rustling the leaves on the branches of the trees overhead. Smiley stopped too and looked at some distant point behind me.
"I don't think we should talk about this right now," she said, echoing the words I said to her the first time she came over.
I nodded once, instantly getting the hint.
Her jaw tightened, her expression growing defiant and she straightened. I saw her suppress every wince of pain with every step and I shook my head, exasperated. Talk about stubborn.
"Idiot," I called after her, "Want some help?"
She said yes.
Her feet still haven't recovered well after a few days. She only let me see it when she literally couldn't fix it herself due to her inability of stretching her legs too much.
It was bad.
"I think this is infected," I said to her, worried. Sure, it was still partially covered by old gauze, but.
I had a roll of new gauze and changing the bandages together shed more light on it. It, being the numerous cuts, abrasions, and bruises there were on her feet that were revealed when I completely took off the old ones.
I stared at the injuries for a good few seconds before standing up and going, "We are taking you to the hospital."
"I can't afford that, Philly," Smiley sighed out, "You know that. I wouldn't practically living together with you for the past month if I could."
"…Make your parents send out some money, maybe?" I suggested, wincing.
"Too busy," she shook her head, a sort of rueful smile on her face, "I'm just worried I'm butting into your personal space."
"If you were I'd have kicked you out already," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. She rolled her eyes, "I'll be fine. I only really need a week or something before the cuts will heal and I'll have scars left."
"That's not really much better."
"It is to me."
I cocked an eyebrow at her and looked down at her feet again, before sitting down and wrapping them with new gauze. She had a stupidly high pain tolerance for some reason, I was almost jealous. She didn't even flinch. She also avoided any and all eye contact for the rest of the night.
I leaned back on the bottom of the couch and sighed, "If that thing's still not healed we're going to the hospital."
"Duly noted," she smiled.
That was three hours ago.
Maybe. I wasn't counting.
You see, I'd woken up in the middle of the night. Again. This wasn't uncommon. I did this a lot when I got too thirsty while sleeping, so I do my usual thing and go down to get some water. Straight to the kitchen I went, and while my cup was filling with water from the tap, I yawned and turned my head to look around.
Whatever sleep in my eyes I'd had dried out when I noticed one of the knives missing.
It was the medium-sized one, with a metal sheath.
And no, it was impossible. I kept telling myself that while I downed the water, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Impossible.
First of all, that Smiley was an adult, this one had turned 17 just last month and we were in highschool for godssake.
(That's not right…)
Shit.
I put the glass down on the counter, and went outside to the living room. No Smiley. Not surprised. Looked at her Morse code book she left on the table and put a hand over my face.
Between my fingers, I could see the window open, curtains rustling as the wind blew into the house. The door was locked shut, but I could see an almost obnoxiously bright white line under the it, leading to the outside.
I looked at the window. Saw nothing but moonlight streaming in and the quiet streets illuminated by streetlights. Not a single car passing by, not one pedestrian.
I slipped on a pair of shoes I'd kicked out of this afternoon and went out.
The chalk stretched out, down the right side of the street and towards the horizon where I couldn't see it anymore. I grimaced, taking one step away from the chalk line I was stepping on and—
Back in the living room. Of course.
I walked out again, this time taking an extra jacket just in case, looking out where the chalk line disappeared from my vision. I locked the door behind me and followed it.
Was it stupid? Yep. Was it possibly a trap? Absolutely. Was it probably going to lead me to nowhere? Definitely.
Except that I couldn't walk anywhere without it, it didn't matter if it was a trap or if it lead me to nowhere, because as I looked around the cul-de-sac, I saw Smiley's staggering figure in the distance, going between two houses. I glanced down, seeing my hands balled into white-knuckled fists, seeing the chalk path stretching out towards where she eventually disappeared from my sight.
I sucked in a breath, letting it out shakily and slinging the extra jacket over my shoulder and jogged over.
"Smiles," I tried to call out, to no avail. She was too far. I was outside her hearing range.
I frowned, jogging a bit to catch up to her. She, somehow, still managed to move faster than I did. I couldn't reach her.
Well shit.
I broke out into a full sprint, keeping an eye on the chalk path instead of where I was going. If I didn't, I'd have gone back to the house. If I didn't, I might have seen where we were going.
Looking back on it now, I'd been led across the entire neighborhood; down roads, through houses, cutting into private property a few times and finally, the small forest behind the local park.
They didn't have lights here, not unless I counted the small lantern I passed by at the entrance of the park, but now? Nothing but utter darkness, with the slightest illumination from the moon above.
Leaves crunched under my feet, and the sheer silence of the place was unsettling. It was like I'd been taken out of reality and placed in some pocket dimension where sound didn't exist. I couldn't even hear myself breathe.
I could feel my heart beat against my ribcage, sweat dripping down the sides of my face, but I couldn't feel that familiar ache in my legs when I went running for long.
Something was wrong.
I needed to get Smiley and bolt.
Thick branches, the ones low enough I needed to duck to pass by, had a dense number of leaves, all rustling in the wind and obscuring my vision of the small dirt path I was on. I grimaced. This wasn't good. I should've brought a flashlight.
Looking down, I could see the chalk still on the ground, white between the dark brown of the soil with leaves littering over it. Idly, I wondered who drew it in the first place, who was leading me to Smiley and why they were helping me. But the soft whispers carried to me by the wind stopped that train of thought.
It was a man, I think. It definitely sounded male. I started to pick up the pace again despite the protests from my burning lungs. I probably smelled of sweat. I didn't really care. It was cold and windy enough to deter the smell I was exuding.
Minutes later I could see Smiley between the leaves, and I pushed away flora in my path to try and reach her.
She wasn't harmed, thank god.
I breathed a sigh of relief, walking over to her. She was standing in the middle of a small clearing, back turned to me and still as a board.
That was when I noticed that the wind previously chilling me to my bones was gone, replaced by an unnatural stillness. Something cold climbed up my spine, making me straighten, my shoulders tense.
(The chalk paths are fading into the dirt, the guiding white slowly—)
I walked up to Smiley, bring up one arm to touch her shoulder.
"Don't touch me," she whispered out, raising her own arm to bring up the shiny, metallic surface of the knife reflecting my own confused expression back at me.
And then she brought it down. On her arm. I could see the blade rip through her skin, digging int flesh and letting blood come out, dripping down. I watched, mute with shock, throat drying up, frozen in place while she dug the blade deeper.
My arms felt heavy, my legs weighed down by a thousand pounds, but somehow I managed to take one more step forward—
(Gone. )
Smiley held her arm out and bled on the dirt. I didn't look down to see what she was aiming at, because at that moment, she turned, put one hand on my chest and pushed me. I saw, in that split second before I somehow landed on the floor of my living room, Smiley's wide-eyed expression and the chalk path that had been protecting me before smudged into nothing.
Diz smiled.
That was to say, he curled his lips upwards and tried to crease his eyes to emulate what his and Earth's kind thought of a 'smile'.
He watched through the screen as the young woman continued to helplessly walk through the dirt path, a stagger in her footsteps that could never be natural. That was alright, though. Nobody would notice. Diz made sure of that.
On another screen, a smaller one to his left, showed a young man, racing after his friend on the chalk paths drawn by some unknown entity. Diz jaw had twitched at the sight of it, but he was unable to descend into their reality to interfere. Not now, anyway.
But back to his initial project.
On the main screen, right in front of him, showed the image of Smiley Sundae staggering slowly to the edge of the simulation. A sort of drunken dance shuffling forward. Diz reached down and whispered into the small microphone on the desk, "Move left."
And she did, passing between two trees. She walked, and walked, through bushes and over hills, until she reached her destination. A small clearing in the middle of the woods, the sky overhead covered by thick leaves.
"Put in the human DNA," he murmured into the mic, pressing another button to reveal to her, and her eyes only, the small device keeping their reality stable. Leaves rustled, footsteps were heard. Eggtree was coming into the premises.
Diz was running out of time.
He clicked his tongue and told her to move faster.
With the knife she'd stolen in hand, she raised it and plunged it deep into her arm, then raised it. Diz watched carefully to see if the device would crumble under the presence of biological material it wasn't built to handle.
Eggtree tried, foolishly, to engage with the girl, but he had her push him out of the artificially made safe-zone of Ouroboros and turned back to feed the device more of her blood.
Nothing happened at first. Then it sparked. Once, twice.
It burst into flames.
Diz smiled.