Bobby remembered only glimpses of what his body saw when his brain was out. There was Sheegor placing him and Chloe in front of the lungfish. There was the hot, stinking breath of the lungfish as she carried him back to Whispering Rock. There was how Chloe ambled away from him the moment the beast spat them onto shore, and she stumbled toward the woods where she had often explored.
But while those moments were wrapped in shadows and uncertainty, he recalled with full transparency how he met Lili's eyes. She was standing by the bulletin board on the beach. She was looking around as if searching for someone when old buddies found each other. He must have looked stupid because her mouth dropped open like his. He was dragging himself toward the stairs, low groans echoing from his throat, while she stood still.
He had no reason to meet her. They weren't friends anymore. He just wanted to watch television and let his body turn to mush in a bean bag chair.
Though, Lili's lips pursed, and her brow furrowed. She dipped her chin to her chest, seemingly puzzled. Lili turned to watch him leave, Bobby observing her out of the corner of his eye. She reached out, but like Bobby, she didn't speak, and she tucked her hand behind her hip, her nose wrinkling.
She must have been disgusted with him. She always was. It made sense. That's why she had sneezed.
But as he walked up the steps, dragging himself toward the lodge, he came across him. Raz accosted him, ready to fight. Bobby's body still burned, even as Raz relaxed, surprise crossing his features.
Raz must have known he had failed. It was why Bobby stopped to swat him on the arm. That was all he could do to sate his anger. He still hit him hard enough for Raz to wince, and it elevated Bobby's joyful, sharp tone as he cried out for television. (They were going off to save everyone while he wasted his chance.)
Afterward, there were snippets of cartoons he watched. There were changed channels, from westerns to sci-fi. There were bodies slumped over in chairs and bean bags. They groaned and huffed until it was time for their recranialization.
(Though, for some reason, Bobby remembered a wet warmth pressing on his brain. He didn't know why, but it had been punctuated with a giggle.)
When he was rebrained, Bobby jolted upright with a start on the table. Ford jerked backward, almost dropping the funnel. His limbs ached, and his chest throbbed. A prominent pulse pounded in his head while he blinked the weariness from his eyes, taking in the sterile, white surroundings.
"Easy, sonny. You've been through quite the ordeal," Ford murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "If you want to rest for another moment, you can. I know you've done your best."
But despite his kindness, Bobby couldn't sit still. He forced himself to stand when he saw hints of red goggles in the adjacent window. Ford didn't prevent him from leaving; he stepped aside to let Bobby hobble out of the room into the hallway.
Raz stared at him, eyes wide for a second only to relax. He cracked a hint of a smile as if relieved to see him. It fueled the fire deep in Bobby's belly, his fists shaking, Raz' feats undeniable.
Bobby only had one question for him.
Raz paused, then sighed. The utter exhaustion in his explanation felt like pins poking into Bobby. It was as if he hadn't expected Bobby's demanding query, as if he wanted gratitude when Bobby had none to give, not to Raz, not to anyone.
"...yes, because you got your brain stolen, and I didn't, yes. I do. I think I'm better than you," Raz said, his tone utterly grave.
"Ah ha! I knew it!" Bobby shouted, jabbing his finger at Raz' chest. He threw his arms out. "Well, you're wrong!" His cheery tone gave way to his venom. "Have fun dying!"
He swaggered around Raz. Their eyes no longer met. There wasn't any reason for Bobby to linger with the boy who had completely usurped him and everyone else in camp. He needed distance, or he almost feared what he would have done if left alone with him.
But as soon as he left Ford's sanctuary, he felt like collapsing. He should have taken a few minutes to rest on the table with how his brain felt like it would slip out his ears. He cupped his jaw, keeping his head steady as he hauled himself outside, not quite knowing where he was going or what he was doing when the fresh air hit him.
He stood in the wilderness. The distant growls of the cougars and the flickering fireflies were music to his ears. The stream near the GPCs bubbled and flowed. As he walked down the dirt path, dragging his hand against the splintery fence, he took in the shadows crawling on the ground, formed by gnarled branches.
He had walked through the woods countless times before. He knew every sound and shape. It was his real backyard, where he could run and explore without fear.
Chloe.
But he couldn't dawdle or find kids to torment to inflate his ego. He needed to find her. She had been rebrained before him, and he didn't know where she was in Whispering Rock. He wanted to see her, even if his heart squeezed, his body feeling twisted and cold, as someone doused him with a bucket of ice water.
He forced himself toward the cabin area. There was only one place that Chloe loved most in all of camp. Even if the location belonged to a man he thoroughly loathed, Bobby stomped up the wooden planks, leaving behind the kids murmuring below him.
A familiar whirr thrummed. He stood at the entrance, speechless.
Chloe stood on a chair by Oleander's radio. She fidgeted with the antenna but stopped. She looked over at him, and his happiness was snuffed out in an instant. He failed her. He hadn't been able to protect her, and his eyes watered, shame reddening his cheeks when she acknowledged him.
"Bobby," she stated, turning on the chair.
"H-hi, Chloe," he managed to say. He didn't move until she asked for him to come inside. The flooring creaked underneath him. He felt like he would fall through them.
Chloe stared at him as he stood next to her. She glanced at him up and down. Taking a breath, she said, "I'm sorry I wasn't much help. I couldn't escape my restraints."
He flinched. It hadn't been her fault. He wasn't strong or talented enough to fight them.
"I am somewhat aware of what transpired. I might have been a brain, but I had a slight degree of consciousness," Chloe continued, resting her hands on the back of the chair. "You went up against that mad doctor and Coach Oleander, correct?"
He swallowed thickly. That was one way of phrasing it. "I, um, yeah, but y'see, I couldn't-"
"You did what you could," she insisted, speaking over his meandering mutter. She lowered her voice. "I'm grateful that you tried."
"I wasn't good enough," he hissed out, his words like a knife.
Chloe didn't immediately answer. He noticed her grasp tightened around the chair. She stared at his ribs where Bobby's pain still lingered, hollowing him out.
"But you risked your safety for me. I don't believe anyone else would have done it," she said, offering her hand. When Bobby hesitated, she curled her fingers inward. "I don't have the full story, so will you tell it to me?"
Bobby recoiled. His left heel involuntarily twitched into the embedded seating behind him, and he stumbled into the cushions. Sitting, he drummed his fingers on nothing, the terror still fresh.
Chloe hopped off her chair and onto the seating. She reclined next to him, gazing with eyes that seemed to understand everything. "If you're uncomfortable, I understand. It was highly strenuous, from what I felt. Please don't force yourself to talk if it's too much for you right now."
"Sorry." He forced that word out with all the air in his chest.
"There is no need to apologize." Chloe rested her hand on his bony shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Thank you for attempting a rescue procedure. Please leave the rest to me."
Chloe didn't wait. She quickly returned to the radio, her fingers to her temple. The device continued to whirr and hum, befuddling Bobby with her swiftness. She took a quiet breath, and the message began anew.
Calling any sentient being in the galaxy Polarissima Australis. Come in Polarissima Australis. I'm requesting urgent assistance.
Her thoughts echoed throughout the camp, amplified by the loudspeakers. Bobby limped to stand up, realizing her intention. She was calling for help from the cosmos. Her thoughts must have been reaching far and wide, breaking through the stratosphere into worlds unknown.
This is a crisis. Lives are at stake. Members of the Greater Galactic Community, I am also reaching out to you for both myself and the ambassador of Fath 703. As soon as you hear this message, please promptly respond.
She stopped for a moment, looking over her shoulder at him. "You can rest, Bobby. I will handle it from here," she said, gesturing at the seating.
"I - I wanna stand," he replied, and he crossed his arms. "I can still, uh, I can still help."
"You are weary. Resting is necessary for your recovery." She paused and looked at the radio. "But if you insist on only standing, that's fine. Just don't distract me while I reach out to our people."
He bobbed his head in agreement, his hair shifting. Chloe returned to her telepathic message. As she concentrated, he marveled at her. She was incredible. Even when faced with certain terror, she bounced back faster than him. He supposed she had made a good point that he had endured worse than her, but her confidence and leadership shined through in their darkest hour.
Bobby could still protect her. If anyone tried bothering her or demanding she stop talking, he'd wallop them into the deep crevice between the cabins and campgrounds. Bobby smiled at the back of her helmet, a sense of purpose renewing in his chest. He put his weight on his right leg and observed, his attention fully on her, even if she didn't return it.
For now, Bobby believed he was helping her by standing guard. No mutated fish was going to get the jump on them again. No dentist or coach was going to terrorize her again. He was ready, despite the persistent, faint throbbing in his bones and the blur rimming his vision.
Chloe was going to bring in her friends, and they were going to kick the coach's ass, and it was going to be glorious.
(And when that didn't happen, and when Raz became a Psychonaut in the span of a cruel day, Bobby didn't truly cry until after they all boarded the bus and left him behind in camp.)