29. Chains of stars

Constellations shaped their roads. Bridges of starfire, gardens of dust. Skyscrapers of sunshine.

They were together, the three of them. And Cecil had an arm around Peter, and Peter had his own around him, and the other around Beverly. And they meandered through the shade like children through curtains in the fresh January breeze.

A chain of stars.

Was that what constellations were? Arms, locked? Faces alight? Embraces?

What made stars shine… Beverly still couldn't piece it completely together.

If an embrace formed light itself, perhaps, constellations were but the space between open arms. People, connected by light. Lovers, too. And families. Roads to safe havens. Gentleness. Peace.

When her father and sister joined her… would they form their own chain?

Would her mother warm her father's star, like Peter did hers?

Your doubt is always this heavy, darling. I must learn to carry it.

Would she need to carry them? Or would they perform miracles of their own, and learn to fly before they went?

"You're looking good, Peter," Cecil murmured, laughing hoarsely.

He was exhausted. Sweat pooled under his mouth, around his lips, and the sweetened wisps of the dusk clung to it and made it gleam.

Peter Lake rolled his eyes, chuckled. "Har, har."

His body shook, but his soul was as steady as the rocks upon which this city had been carved out and spiked up. Beverly liked this new peace within him.

Was it owed to her? No. Not 'owed.' What a word… They owed each other nothing.

He and Cecil and her. She was no angel of Peter's, neither was he her theft. Cecil would not speak of who had stolen his light, his only way to communicate with those who remained here, as well as the safest way to travel, and they would not bother him of it. Cecil didn't like to get into details. Their bodies huddled close together. Peter Lake's arm around her, hers around him, Cecil at the other side, ensnared in his own armlock with his old friend. Were either of them to falter, they would be balanced by the grip of the other.

Stars weren't slaves, Beverly decided. A link in a chain like theirs chose to belong to this embrace.

Ever since her death, she'd been quick to discard her former wonder of the star-lit sky and replace it with skepticism and dread. Peter's loneliness, her father's misery, Willa's desperation, and her, a gasp of sunshine, incapable of healing them.

Death was not as simply pleasant as she'd imagined. But then again, nothing was ever so. Especially not to her.

Peter Lake had told her, she was the same her. Formless and heartless, she remained Beverly. And she'd always cast greater shadows upon the tiniest objects. Everything mattered.

"It was about time they found me, truly… I have been in the city for so long…"

"Maybe you should settle up elsewhere. Make a run for it."

"Heh… No. That sort of spirit is easier to come by when you are still living." He nodded his head subtly in Beverly's direction. "Your woman knows as much."

Your woman.

Lamplights bloomed along New York. Beverly's face glew in the burnt-out violet haze.

The hope he tasted through her mouth. Paths he glimpsed through her eyes. Peter looked at her, amused. He grinned a little.

And she sensed his gravity. Took in his smell of the city. The cracks on walls and the chipped colors of the ceilings. Questionable details to each inch they traversed.

Peter found intrigue wherever he walked. He never ran out of questions, whereas she'd often prided herself in having answers to every doubt that plagued her.

Is your doubt always this heavy?

Death had changed her, especially in this instant, when her light harbored two people, rather than just herself. She wasn't proud anymore. But then again, she felt safe in knowing that what answers she had maintained since New Year's Day, she would maintain forever, with full confidence. That her faith in them would not be shaken.

I believe that we are all here for a reason… No matter what fleeting fears stop by and tease me… What remains is us, and I want to believe in this path we have chosen to walk in.

"She would have flown away in the blink of an eye, had her life been loveless," Cecil murmured. He swallowed. Then: "But then again… that is why we're chosen… We are anchored to hearts still beating. We are cursed and blessed to care… We see stars before they shine, in the deepest dark. That's what Pearly doesn't understand. What he hates about us."

"You can't stay down here," Beverly whispered. "It's dangerous. Traveling through light is safest. We- We need to get you some coins."

Cecil cast a glance at her for the first time since their last meeting. He appeared older. Not in physical appearance, but in posture. His head hung from an exhausted neck, his eyelids dropped heavily. His feline eyes shone in the half-light. A whisper of pity and relief danced along his face. He sighed. Looked at Peter, then back at her.

"I knew you'd do it," he whispered. "If I was too late to avoid it… I would have done the same in your shoes."

You will be seen again, but not by him. That's what he'd told her.

Beverly told him, frowning to herself: "I regret nothing."

And she was speaking the truth.

"You're still afraid. You don't understand what you've done, or whether or not it was meant to be done."

Fear is not regret.

"I have lived without surprises for a long time. I want to believe this is building up to something greater than myself… That maybe that is why I'm so blind to what may come of it. It's kinder to think like this than to imagine that, thanks to Pearly, and his gang of fiends, a miracle has been lost…"

Peter Lake's black eyes were solemn with caution. Beverly's regained confidence suddenly limped, but Cecil promptly shook his head. His eyes squeezed shut.

It was as if he were focusing. Carving grey lines in a pitch-black nothingness.

Beverly could relate to him deeply in this instant. She'd filled out chalkboards her entire life, every time she closed her eyes. She, too, had believed herself the keeper of the truths of the universe. It was her form of coping with carrying such inevitable danger in her body.

"Your star was unlit for a reason, though," Cecil murmured. "I knew something was the matter with that, I just- Y- If it had lit up, they would have seen… They would have been wary of you… What you may have done… That you would be capable of-"

My miracle.

Beverly Penn, a scream…

A shiver coursed through Peter and she felt it, his confusion, like the tail end of a lizard, tickling her skin.

Cogs were setting into place. A machine moved somewhere. The dark huddled around them like a huge blanket. New York shivered from the corner of their eyes. Beverly felt a little lighter. She heard the creaking metal, the rust of galaxies. A massive, sunken ship, rearranging its position in its slumber…

"It's never too late," Cecil whispered, nodding. He spoke to everything and anything, in barely a breath. "I'm not afraid… I hope I didn't worry you, I, sorry, I'm not-"

"You didn't," she whispered.

And almost at the same time as she spoke, Peter shook his head and murmured: "Don't say sorry, Cecil, you-"

"I'm just glad to see you two… That I may…"

Then, when Cecil made a move to lift his face once more there was stardust in his gaze. Clouds of sugar muddled with the chocolate-brown irises. His dark face twisted.

"Th- That I may speak to you still," he managed to conclude.

"Oh, Cecil." Peter Lake leaned into his friend. He with the elegant hands, now huddled, trembling, around the curve of his grey scarf, like a large, frightened spider.

This is a gift I will not give up.

He then looked at Beverly, studied her expression for a beat. She tilted her head up to him and the green earring trembled from her ear. She noticed his eyes deviating slightly, noting the movement. He took in a breath.

Not through doubt or dread of what may come of it.

"We need to get you home," Peter told Cecil. "We can help you."

She sensed a subtle need in his voice. Like he desired to make up for an unspoken lack between them.

He was still the same him. His journey upriver would never end and that was what made him so admirable, in instances like these…

"I have been stranded before, it's all fine," Cecil replied, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not too long ago, in fact. You've returned me home before, Peter, even when you and I were in two very different places. I don't fear. I'm in good company. I- I just need to… Let's stay in the dark."

"Yes. Okay."

"They are scattered, the Pearl's wolves. Tentacles, spread all over town. You walk on a knife's edge returning to this city to begin with, like- Peter, you died today, and unlike Beverly, you have no ways to travel through light! Do you not realize what could have happened, had any of Pearly's men spotted you? They could have stolen your harness, like they stole mine. Stranded you in New York, encircled you, hunted you down. Erased another star in the sky, another vessel sunken, more souls lost to the sea."

"But the sky is a sea," Beverly whispered, her words forming before she had time to think them over. "Its darkness makes the stars shine brighter."

"Yes. I know. But, honey, you wouldn't let your lover sink. I wouldn't let my family sink, either. You didn't even think about it, you took him before his heart could fully give out. And your father, your sister, what of them?" He paused a moment, then: "Stars do burn out. We will sleep some day, when we're satisfied with our labor. When we've saved all we could save, and loved all we could love. But we are awake for a reason. Yes, the dark will claim us too. But not yet."

Peter Lake hesitated before asking: "Is that the reason why I can't travel through light? Because Beverly stopped a final heartbeat?"

"No, not exactly. It's often a sign that you are destined to be seen again. Like I have been seen. People look up at the stars, most days. And, by chance, they see you, and they find you." Cecil pursed his lips a little. He sighed, shook his head: "You were not meant to die on that bridge… Someone in this city needs you…"

"Well… we'll just find them, then. In due time. They'll see me, like you saw me."

See me like I see you.

"But we won't abandon you," Beverly stated, squeezing Cecil's arm. "I spent days searching for you. I won't leave you now."

He smiled at her. She smiled at him.

To be willingly chained to another, for all eternity… How much trust does that require? Madness, too? Recklessness? Naivety?

No. Words, words…

Trust. Peace of mind, above all things.

The trust between the three of them. They, who would not leave him.


Author's Note: To anyone who is here today, thank you for reading.

All three of them, speaking together at last! I am so giddy, I loved writing this. I also loved giving Beverly all these new discoveries and theories. How she interprets constellations as roads between friends (I am always so happy to come up with ideas like these, I feel like they fit the tone of WT so well, as well as contribute to both the delightful abstractness AND emotional weight of how important every element in the movie truly feels, in shaping roads, and leading people down kinder paths), and also how she realizes that she has lost much of the old confidence she used to have, ever since she died.

I feel like movie Beverly knew the answer to everything, she is calm and sure of what awaits her and she fears nothing because she trusts that she knows where she is going. Her confidence is never shaken in the movie, and we never see her as a spirit, but in my reinterpretations, I feel like her introduction to Peter and her eventual romance with him, as well as how I made her react to the afterlife I have designed for my narrative, and its rules and all that (you know that at first I had a very hard time making my own worldbuilding but the more I write about it and apply it to the character interactions, the better I feel about it, so yay :3), that she would come to realize that not everything was as "simply pleasant" as she hoped. But then, on the bright side, the answers she still maintains, she'll keep forever. Because now she has the clarity to know that she is completely right, not just based on her own judgement.

This is something I have been through in the past, regarding different places and different people - nothing is ever pleasantly simple, or as perfect as you expect before being enveloped in another country's culture, or other people's societies. But that allows you, not only to seek the light wherever you go (because there is always light somewhere, even in the darkest places - that is what I love about the message of this movie), but also to grow as a person, to sharpen your own ideals. To gain clarity and discard assumption.

Well, anyways. I have more things to talk about of course, because Cecil is back too and I missed him so deeply. In the movie, he shows up for just two scenes, but in my reinterpretation I want him to be important, as I've already told you. So, in the same way I have built my own versions of Peter and Beverly, based on what I interpreted from their depictions in the film, I have built Cecil up based in only, uh, one interaction with Peter (which directly ties into Chapter 6 of ASITL, specifically), and one 5-second shot later in the movie (I haven't even GOTTEN that far into the timeline yet, like, I am slow XD). So... his version in my stories is pretty much built from scratch by me, I feel XD

I'm a little happier with what I have created every day to be honest. I like how I've made my own version of this story and these characters, I take a lot of care into writing about them because they mean a lot to me, and... well, yeah. That's it. Thank you for being here, as always, here's your hug *hug* and I shall see you next time. Take care :3