Spoilers for the To The Moon series, including more recent entries like the Beach Episode.
"So... what made you want to work here?"
Robert Lin looked up from his clipboard. The question was a familiar one, and one he himself had gotten used to asking. But being on the receiving end of that question was something that hadn't happened in a long time.
Walking beside him was Sigmund's latest hire, a young man by the name of Sam. He, too, was like every other young adult who passed through Sigmund's halls: energetic, hopeful, full of dreams.
And, of course, eyes filled with wonder at the magic they were sure this place performed.
"It's a meaningful job," Rob replied.
He wasn't one for lengthy conversations, but on topics he was particularly passionate about, he had no issues with going on and on until he covered every single thought in his head. Neil had (affectionately, as he put it) called it 'Rob's BS'. And this was, for all intents and purposes, something Rob was deeply passionate about.
Yet, he bit back on the words crawling their way up his throat.
"We help people die happy," he finished. "What about you?" he added. As the one who got stuck with the job of orientating the new kid, he figured he might as well put a little more effort into the socializing part. Granted, this was originally Roxie's job, but all things considered, it was probably better for the company's attrition rate if he did it instead.
"I just wanted to be there when they pass," Sam replied. "I mean, I get that it's nice and all to change their memories, but I just kinda... wanna be there in their final moments, y'know?"
"You volunteered at a nursing home, right?" Rob asked. As any responsible employee should, he had made sure to go through the newbie's documents beforehand.
"Right," Sam nodded. "We had lots of folks who just... passed on alone. No family, no friends... Just like so many others out there. But at least in a nursing home, you have someone nearby when you go, and I figured that's better than nothing."
"You do realize a lot of our patients have families of their own when they pass on, right?" Rob asked, pressing the button for the elevator. How Eva always managed to call one right away without needing to wait was one of life's eternal mysteries.
"Oh, I know," Sam replied. "But the only people who know about the new memories they have in their final moments are them and us, right? I think there's meaning to that."
"That's fine," Rob measured out a fraction of a nod. "Just keep that with you when you're on the job."
Over the course of his career, Rob had seen his share of eager newbies broken by the job. By the nature of their work, they had to come face to face with death each time the call came in. It was a huge responsibility to be in charge of the final few moments of someone's life, and to ensure they gained the memories they wanted in those hours, minutes, even seconds. Even when you succeed, it was a sombering moment when you stand there in the room, staring at a corpse whose life you just lived in less than a fraction of the time they did.
And when you failed, the weight of that failure was enough to crush whatever optimism you might have had.
Those who could handle it, lived with the scars. Those who couldn't, ran away, the echoes of their footsteps and laughter lingering in the memories of those who remained; shadows of yesterday that haunted those who carried on, nursing a phantom pain only they understood. A pain that would never go away, no matter how brilliant a smile they might wear.
Positivity was a good thing. Great, even. But positivity was one of the easiest things to crush in a place like this.
"The important thing is to stay strong," he said, as the elevator silently ascended. "For your patients, their loved ones, for yourself... If you buckle, they lose their last shot at happiness."
"Yes sir," Sam replied.
Robert glanced at the lad. His voice had the steady confidence fresh graduates tended to have, but the look in his eyes told a different story. Something in there wavered, as though the importance of his chosen calling had just sunk in. Regardless of how confident he sounded, he must be weak in the knees deep down.
This was where a proper senior was supposed to say something to lighten the mood, and Rob was not one to back down. He had his own stash of legendary icebreakers for newcomers, reserved for moments like this. He took a deep breath, waiting for the moment the elevator doors opened to drop just the right joke.
With an almost playful chime, the elevator doors opened-
"EVA I SWEAR IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!"
Robert Lin had no idea a migraine could occur that swiftly from just hearing a voice.
With the speed and grace of a passing comet, someone in a labcoat sped past the elevator door and disappeared down the corridor. Shortly after, a stomping sound preceded what seemed to be the personification of Wrath as she chased after her would-be victim.
"... Meet Dr. Eva Rosalene," Rob introduced to the speechless newcomer. "She's a senior memory traversal agent, and you'll be accompanying her team as well as ours during your probation period."
"H-hello," Sam greeted with the enthusiasm one would have approaching a ravenous lion.
"Hi," Eva replied, not turning to look at him. "Talk later. I'm going to open up a new headcount in the technicians section."
"HeellloOOOooo!"
Charging into view from Lord knows where was a woman who practically radiated energy.
"You must be the new guy!" she said, practically jumping on the spot. "I'm Roxanne, but everyone calls me Roxie! I'm Rob's partner! K-now-bye-gotta-go!"
"What happened this time?" Rob asked, just as Roxie was about to chase after Eva. "What did he do?"
"Eh... Yes," Roxie replied, sprinting off.
"... Oh," Sam said suddenly, as though he had connected some dots in his head. "So that's what that part of the contract was referring to."
Lord help me, they finally added them to the occupational hazards list, Robert resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Anyway, welcome to Sigmund," Robert said. "Enjoy the madhouse."
"Say, can I ask you a question?"
The spectacled man looked up from the screen, his fingers hovering above the keyboard.
"Yes, I do think tomatoes are a vegetable," he said with a completely straight face.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Don't believe what the unenlightened tell you," Dr. Neil Watts, vegetable extraordinaire, said before turning back to his work. "I believe in universal truths, from my head to-ma-toes."
The silence that followed was enough for one to hear a pin drop.
"Anyway, what else did you want to know?" Neil asked, seemingly unfazed by the appreciation (or lack thereof) to his amazing joke.
"I... uh..." Sam stammered. Six months in, and he had still not gotten used to Neil's... eccentricity. He had no idea how Eva managed. "Do you ever... have second thoughts about this job?"
Neil stopped typing. He simply paused for a moment before looking at his wrist – at a watch he wasn't wearing.
"Wow, six months," he said. "You're one of the slower ones in doubting this job."
"I'm not exactly doubting, but..." Sam replied. "It's just... Well..."
Just the week before, he had accompanied Roxie and Rob to a job where their patient wanted to live a life where he had summoned the courage to confess to his crush back in college. They were expected to take six hours, but they had completed the whole process within two. However, seconds before the procedure could be finalized and the wish transferred, the patient's condition took a sudden turn for the worst and he flatlined, well ahead of schedule.
Even now, Sam could still hear the insults the patient's spouse had hurled at them as they packed up to leave.
"Sometimes, when things don't go well, it's really demoralizing," Sam said. "I don't know how you guys find the motivation to keep going."
"It happens," Eva piped up from her workstation. Technically, Sam and Neil were crashing her office (Neil did, and forced Sam to do the same since he had to tag along), but she was beyond wasting her energy chasing them out at this point. "Everyone fails from time to time, but if you stop at the failure, you'll never improve. And the moment you stop, you're giving up on the people you could've helped in the future if you'd kept going."
"I mean, if you think about it," Neil added. "If they didn't hire our services, they would've just died like that anyway, so failing is just letting them take the normal ending instead of the better one."
Sam stared at Neil. He could never tell if his responses were serious or not.
"So... that's your motivation?" Sam asked.
"No, it's annoying Eva," Neil replied.
With the accuracy of a trained sniper, Eva threw a crumpled ball of paper at Neil's head. With the refined movements of an acrobat, Neil leaned back, dodged the projectile, fell over and off his chair.
"That went better in my head," Neil muttered under his breath as he got to his feet, fixing his glasses as he did so. "But... well, there's no point in asking us, kiddo. We're pros who have gotten past trivial worries like that."
"That, and caring about the contract and legal obligations," Eva added under her breath.
"But... you care about your patients, right?" Sam pressed on. "Otherwise you wouldn't try so hard."
Once again, Neil's fingers paused in their typing, hovering over the keyboard for a brief moment before resuming their task.
"Well, yes," Neil said. "Everyone here does, for various reasons. If you're Rob for example, you preach about some big values at a Ted talk and say it's for a greater cause. But everyone's also doing it for themselves to some degree."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it's about self-satisfaction," Neil replied. "Even if you want to help people die happy, it's still you wanting them to die happy. If you help them, sure they're satisfied, but you still get a sense of satisfaction for achieving that. And there's nothing wrong with it."
Neil briefly adjusted his glasses, with their one-way mirror reflective surface hiding his eyes.
"There's no need to do this for some greater purpose," Neil went on. "Just do it for yourself, because the moment you lose sight of that, you won't know how to keep going anymore. So you don't need to rely on other people's answers, really. Your own answer is enough."
Looking up from his screen and at Sam, he smiled. It was a small, polite smile, but with his eyes hidden, it was anyone's guess what meaning hid behind that expression.
"We won't be here forever, after all," he said. "Why share the spotlight with anyone else?"
And just as easily as it had come, the faint smile disappeared, replaced by his trademark grin.
"After all, if you look back on your life and keep remembering me giving some sappy advice that changed your life, I'd look totally uncool."
"Right, because you're usually so cool," Eva chimed in, rolling her eyes.
"Why yes, I agree," Neil replied. "Thank you for noti- wait, was that sarcasm?"
"Heavens, no. What in the eggplant made you think that?" Eva asked.
"That's some attitude towards the one who saved you from the tofu party last month."
"Ugh. You ever gonna let that go?"
Just like that, it was as though the conversation never happened. Watching the two partners bicker like they always had, Sam simply watched on, equal parts confused and glad for the reprieve. As though he had acquired a piece of a puzzle he wasn't meant to solve just yet.
The usual back-and-forth continued, but even the loud, playful bickering couldn't wipe that enigmatic smile from Sam's mind.
"So... what made you want to work here?"
Sam felt his lips move to form what he'd hoped was a warm smile. The new hire – a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes – looked like all the newcomers who had come and gone in the years since Sam started here. Timid, scared, apprehensive.
But most importantly of all, they had that fire and excitement in their eyes.
"I actually saw Sigmund in action when I was young," she replied. "My mom worked as a caretaker for someone, and he hired your services. He was a weird guy, but we all wanted him to pass happy. And mom... the look on her face when she removed the helmet... she was so happy for him. I didn't quite get it back then, but that memory stayed with me. So I worked hard to get here."
Sam nodded to himself as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. Her name was Sarah Quinn, and while there was no record of which case she had been present for, he was sure he could look that up later.
"Glad to hear we were able to leave such a strong impression," he said. "Your brother is applying to be technician here, if I'm remembering it correctly."
"Yeah, that's the plan," Sarah rolled her eyes. "Tommy's always been a little... sloppy in his studies, but I'm sure he'll manage. Eventually."
"We're always shorthanded around here, so I'm sure they'd welcome him," Sam chuckled. "Lord knows we've accepted more... rambunctious people."
The elevator doors opened with that familiar chime, revealing a freshly painted hallway beyond.
"I'd like to say welcome to the funhouse, but Roxie's away on a job right now," he said. "Come on, I'll show you to your office."
As they walked down the corridor, the sounds of their footsteps bounced off the walls, leaving weak echoes in their wake. Sam kept walking without a word, occasionally casting a glance at a decorative plant or around a corner.
"Um... are you okay?"
Sam snapped out of whatever daydream he was in. Taking in his surroundings, he found himself rooted to the spot, outside a door with the nameplate, "Dr. Eva Rosalene" emblazoned on it.
"Ah, um, right," Sam stammered. "Sorry. Got lost in thought for a moment there. This is... not your office."
Just before turning to walk on, Sam couldn't help but feel something tugging at his ankles, as though asking him to stay. As though if he looked at that door for just a second longer, he would be able to see a familiar figure standing there, plotting something with his hand on the doorknob. As though if he strained his ears a little more, he would hear a familiar playful bickering on the other side of that door.
As though if he'd just wished hard enough, he'd be able to give form to the shadows in the recesses of his memory.
Sarah followed after her superior, taking care to not say a word. It was an awkward silence, to be sure, but in the midst of that silence was something she knew she could not understand. At least, not yet.
She'd recognized the name "Eva Rosalene". At the briefing for all prospective new hires, she had been the one to give the opening address. Sarah had even had the privilege of talking to her up close afterwards to ask a couple of questions. She was sure it had been their first time meeting each other, but Eva's voice was somewhat nostalgic.
And strangely, it felt like she knew Sarah like one would an old friend.
But that was surely impossible. After all, Sarah was just a job applicant, and Eva Rosalene was a legendary memory traversal agent. Even amongst the new hires, she was well known as someone who started as a memory traversal agent and later acquired the qualifications of a senior technician. The only one person at the entire of Sigmund who had no partner, and handled all her cases on her own. Rumor had it her device was a special one that she had modified herself, but no one knew for sure.
But none of those things mattered when Sarah spoke to her. When she opened her mouth to say something, the look in Rosalene's eyes made her forget all the words she had prepared.
Despite wearing a professional, businesslike smile, the warmth had not reached her eyes. There was something in her eyes that belied the air with which she carried herself; a shadow of yesterday etched deep into her being.
The same shadow that Johnny had in his eyes, all those years ago.
And, from her brief glance at Sam, a shadow he too shared. Was it something that all Sigmund agents would come to experience? Was that what lay in store for her down this path?
"No need to be afraid," Sam said, stopping in front of a door with a blank nameplate. "We're all here to help people, and that includes each other. So if you're ever lost, just give any of us a holler."
"Thank you," Sarah nodded.
"No need," Sam chuckled, waving away her thanks. "Helping each other is normal, isn't it? That's why I joined."
Turning his head, Sam looked down the corridor. Sarah had no reason to think it, but she was strangely confident he was looking in the direction of Rosalene's door.
"We can't do everything alone, after all," he said, a wistful tone mingled in his words. "Ah, but don't make it a habit to rely on us for everything, okay? We're all busy enough as is."
Turning back to look at Sarah, Sam smiled. It was a small, polite smile, but it was anyone's guess what meaning hid behind that enigmatic expression.
"We won't be here forever, after all."