Work Text:
"Henry? You there?”
Gasping breaths, in his ear and bouncing off the thick acrylic window in front of him. Henry’s ribs ached from being thrown about the pod and from all the earlier impacts, some tiny part of his mind acknowledging the pain while the rest of him focused on the staticky, exhausted voice coming through his earpiece. The ship was already so far away, and the signal strength was weakening.
“Man...that roughed me up. Got him though. Gotta be another escape pod around here somewhere.”
There wasn’t even a shudder from the structure around him as he threw himself at the pod door, the metal proving impervious to his fist as he pounded against it again and again.
There wasn’t another pod. He knew there wasn’t, or they wouldn’t have risked the cracked one.
Logic had fled his mind, sheer terror and fear overtaking as he tried, desperately, to break out of the pod. The controls were no use, the destination locked on Earth and unable to be altered without a Toppat password, and flinging himself into space without a suit would just doom him to an airless end.
But he had to get back. Charles was in danger. The ship was collapsing, he needed to get to him, Charles couldn’t get out-
"We did it though. We got' em. Pretty good plan. You could say it was the greates-"
There could be no shockwaves in space without air, no residual heat could reach him in the escape pod. Only the light of the explosion playing off the acrylic and glittering in the twin streams of tears that fell down Henry’s cheeks.
As they fell, the light disappeared, and it was only dull salt water that hit the floor moments before Henry’s knees did.
Thick, hoarse sobs echoed off the metal walls, Henry’s grief and body trapped within the pod, falling forcibly towards Earth.
—-
Not metal walls, drywall and paint. Not brilliant explosive light, but early-morning sun through shuttered blinds.
But the tears were the same. Streaming down the sides of his head, turning cold as they soaked into his pillows around his ears, leaving him sticky and chilled. The rest of his body had suffered the same fate, the vest top and joggers he wore as pajamas uncomfortably clammy from the thin sheen of sweat that covered him. These resurfaced memories of other possible timelines always left their mark one way or another.
The grief was there too, a high pitched, quiet keening that stuck behind his teeth in the exact opposite way it had been on the pod, when it had spilled forth unrelentingly. The most noise he’d made in decades.
Instinct had kept him quiet in the here and now. Scrubbing a hand over his face, furiously rubbing at the tracks and only succeeding in spreading the tears further, he was grateful for it. He’d woken Ellie and Charles enough with nightmares, it wouldn’t be fair-
Ellie and Charles.
Ellie and Charles.
Henry bolted into a sitting position, duvet pooling around his waist.
He didn’t see the now familiar room, scattered belongings (half his, half the others, they always seemed to creep into each other’s spaces) on every surface. He didn’t see his phone, lighting up with random game notifications over a background of the three of them together (first time he’d been to the beach since he was a kid, ice cream smeared on his chin). He only saw the door.
Closed. But beyond it, he could hear noise. Muffled laughter over the television speakers.
This time, when he slammed into the door, it opened.
—-
Sometimes it still surprised Ellie how fast Henry could move.
One minute, she’d been sitting with Charles on the sofa, up against the armrests with their feet tangling together in the middle, watching a nature documentary series. Every time a particularly ugly animal or insect appeared, it was a race to point at Charles and say “That’s you.” before he got there first, the two of them grinning and fighting to keep their giggling under control. Henry was still asleep after all. She’d even picked up the remote to turn the volume down another notch or two.
The next, she’d got a momentary close up of Henry’s form as he dived over the back of the sofa, inches from her face.
The door to his bedroom banged hard against the wall, the TV remote went flying across the room, and Henry was a shaking, gasping mess in Charles’s lap, face buried in his T-shirt and arms clamped desperately around his body.
As Ellie lowered herself back into her seat, vacated when she’d leapt to her feet, spooked, there was a tiny, choked sob. She froze.
Charles had been visibly baffled, eyebrows drawn in and arms hovering awkwardly in the air, but the sob seems to bring some understanding. He drew Henry into a tight hug, tucking his head further under his chin.
"Aww man, Henry. Bad one?"
Henry nodded, the motion tugging at Charles's t-shirt, and there was a watery sniff around the area of his collarbone.
"Damn." He slid a hand up to run over Henry's hair, carding gently through the short strands. Some of the tension leaked from Henry's frame at the motions and he slumped into Charles's hold a little more, death grip loosening.
The three of them had been through a lot together these past six months, battling life-and-death situations, enemies, injuries and the logistics of two reformed criminals and a government helicopter pilot sharing a flat without one of them going insane, but through all of it, Ellie had never seen Henry cry.
He was an emotive guy. He had to be, what with being functionally mute, relying on body language and facial expressions in place of vocal tone to emphasize his signing. She'd seen nearly every variation of Henry's moods possible: smug, mad, tired, cheerful, silly, sweet and sad to name a few. She'd seen upset before too - they hadn't known each other that long in the grand scheme of things, so it was inevitable that they'd accidently cross boundaries or bring up sore subjects that would leave someone angry or hurt, and all that could be done was to learn from it and do better next time.
But the look on his face when he'd dived past her just now, a horrific mix of devastation and desperation, was entirely new.
She was missing something here.
But it wasn't the time for questions, so she merely shuffled along the sofa, right up to where Charles had drawn his legs in protectively to cradle the shaking cat-burglar, and just sat quietly. Silent support. She didn't know what had happened but that didn’t mean she didn't care.
Ellie had held back from touching Henry, not wanting to startle him or physically intrude where she wasn't wanted, but to her surprise Henry reached for her. One hand untangled itself from Charles's shirt and reached back, grabbing weakly at the air behind him until Ellie set her hand in his. He tangled their fingers together despite the awkward angle, and she could hear him take a deep, deliberate breath and relax a little more.
Charles shot her a grateful look over the top of Henry’s head.
She was still completely out of the loop, but at least she seemed to be helping.
They sat there like that, the three of them, for a few more minutes. Henry’s gasping calmed back into a somewhat normal breathing pattern, and while he didn’t make any attempt to move from Charles’s lap, his grip slowly weakened until he and Charles were basically cuddling rather than clutching each other. The repetitive motion of Charles's hand, which had made its way from his hair to his back, stroking slow and firm over his spine, only faltered when Henry pulled away. He didn't go far, only shuffling around so he was seated sideways in the pilot’s lap, freeing both his hands to sign. Ellie’s hand had fallen to Charles’s knee, and she used it as leverage to lean in closer still. The three of them sat in the little pocket of warmth and worry they had created on the end of the sofa, waiting for Henry to speak.
His hands were still shaking, tiny tremors, and he swiped at his eyes roughly before he started signing. The flickering light from the TV caught the shine of salt water along the edges of his palms.
‘Sorry about your shirt.’
“Huh? Oh!” The entire left shoulder area was damp and wrinkled, Charles tugging it away from his skin and making the creases worse before conceding defeat and stripping it off altogether. “Just call me the human tissue I guess!”
There was a snort of amusement from both the others.
“Hey, that’s not fair. I didn’t get snotted all over, what makes you Henry’s favourite?” Ellie reached around Henry’s back to poke at Charles’s exposed ribs, grinning as he squirmed away from her and nearly dumped Henry on the floor while doing so.
“Clearly I just give the best hugs.”
“I call bullshit. My hugs are legendary.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You know it flyboy.”
“A DcMonalds breakfast sandwich says you’re wrong.”
“Throw in a couple of hash browns and a coffee and you’ve got a bet.”
“Deal.”
They shook on it, eying each other gleefully.
“Just remember, I’m a black coffee kinda girl. No syrups or milk or shit when you pick up my order.”
“Psh, no taste at all. Caramel latte is where it’s at, and you’ll be smelling its sweet fragrance all the way home...Once our impartial judge has finished laughing.”
Henry had slumped against the back of the sofa, openly snickering even as his voice went occasionally wobbly. The tears hadn’t stopped despite being brushed away every few seconds, and Charles handed his t-shirt over with a sympathetic smile. It was still mostly dry after all, and cotton was better at mopping up tears than hands were.
‘Thanks.’ Henry cleaned himself up, then played with the hem of the shirt, rubbing it between his fingers for a minute before letting it fall to his lap. His hands hovered in the air, fingers flexing as he tried to find the right words to start.
Biting his lip, he turned towards Ellie. He hadn't been planning on letting this secret out of the bag yet, but she was right there and had seen everything. Besides...he knew he could trust her. And she clearly knew something bigger than a simple nightmare had happened, mixed worry and curiosity in her expression.
She hadn’t asked. That alone made him want to explain.
‘How much do you know about my powers?’
“Err...beyond what I’ve actually seen you do?” Henry nodded. “A mix of fuck and all. There’s a distinct lack of info floating around about the things you can do, and trust me, I’ve looked. A bit more on the web than in your official files, but still not a lot.”
“Wait, you’ve seen his official files?” Charles, interrupted stunned.
“You’d be surprised how shit the Government security is. I broke through the firewalls in half an hour, it was crazy. Had to make sure they’d got my details right. I worked hard on some of those heists.” Ellie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Took a look at yours too by the way, Mr super experienced Lieutenant with a degree in Aviation Systems Management.” Charles went beet red, a flush blossoming not only on his cheeks but down his neck and chest as well much to his friends delight. Ellie leaned back next to Henry. “Did you know this guy had broken age records for earning his pilot wings?”
‘Had no idea until I read his file. He’s been holding out on us.’
“Wait, you’ve seen my file too?!?”
‘First thing I did after the airship.’
“Oh my god you’re both jerks.” Charles buried his head in his hands.
“And then there’s all those high-profile missions you’ve flown-”
“-Very few of which have anything to do with Henry and aren’t we talking about his powers? ” Charles cut Ellie off, snatching a cushion from the floor and throwing it at her.
Taking pity on Charles, Ellie turned back to Henry.
"Okay, okay. Powers. I'm guessing you're a Polymorph like me?"
Henry nodded. Powers were fairly common but Polymorphs were rare, however it wasn't unusual to find Polymorphs in criminal circles. Having multiple powers was a massive advantage in less-than-legal activities.
"Hmm...pocket dimension?" Another nod, and a grin. Henry had a very well stocked pocket dimension, full of just about every type of handheld equipment he could ever need. Not all of it useful or particularly reliable, but hey, that's Gadget Gabe's products for you.
"You've told me about the earthbending and metalbending before." They didn't often come in handy, and half the time he forgot he could use them, but they were Powers nonetheless.
"Foresight?" Henry's smile dropped and he looked away, biting his lip. "No? You always seem to know how to get out of trouble, and your plans are insane but they always seem to work...I was so sure."
Shaking his head, Henry launched into a series of rapid signs. Ellie wasn't great at sign yet, only starting to learn once the three of them had become a team, and she recognised maybe three out of every ten signs, and understood maybe two. After a few seconds, Henry glanced at her. She must have looked as baffled as she felt, because he dropped his hands with a sigh and looked over at Charles.
"You want me to explain?"
'Please.'
"Sure thing buddy."
'Long time to sign anyway.'
"Ain't that the truth. Took forever when you explained it to me!" Despite his jovial tone, his face was solemn. When Henry leaned back into him, resting his head on Charles's shoulder, he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around him.
In the pause between this and the start of Charles’s explanation, apprehension dug its claws in and lingered. If Ellie hadn’t been able to see the thermostat from where she was, she would have sworn the temperature in the room dropped.
"Henry...Henry's powers are weird. Like nothing I've ever heard of before." The arms around Henry tightened a fraction. "I guess the best way to describe it is that he gets options. Like in a video game. He hits a situation where he has multiple paths to take, and...god, how did you describe it? Like the world slows right down, to a standstill, and he can just see what actions he can take, what options he has."
"So...hang on, when we were at The Wall, and Petrov grabbed me, you sort of vague-d out for a second. Was that you looking at your options?"
Henry nodded, or at least Ellie thought he did. He'd buried his face in Charles's shoulder again.
"How do you know which one is the right one though?"
"He doesn't."
Charles locked gazes with her over the top of Henry's head once again.
"But-" Ellie was floundering, still missing some critical piece of information. "But that vagueing out thing happens a lot. When we're on missions it happens every five minutes, nearly. Do you have, I don't know, super high luck or something?"
The laugh that burst from Henry, muffled in Charles's skin, was a distressing mix of bitter and hysterical.
"Well, what then?" Dread started to crawl its way up her spine, the feeling that something was badly wrong causing her words to sharpen and snap. "Things always turn out alright for you, so you can't be picking at random. How the hell do you get it right every time?"
"He doesn't."
Charles watched her, utter fucking misery painted over his face as he watched her expression change from angry confusion to dawning horror.
"What...?"
"He doesn't pick right every time. Or most of the time. Sometimes it’s literally the last option he has that's the correct one. Sometimes there isn't a correct one." The tremor had come back to Henry's hands, tangled in the front of his own shirt. "He picks something, and if he gets it wrong..."
Charles trailed off, scrunching his eyes shut and pulling Henry in impossibly closer before continuing.
"If he gets it wrong, he dies."
Now it was Charles's turn to sound wobbly.
"He dies, Ellie, he fucking dies, gets blown up or shot or trapped somewhere, gets captured and tortured, gets cut in half, falls to his death, probably loads more that he hasn't even told me." His voice rose, thick with tears. "And then, and then once he's died he gets dragged back to the start of the day and has to pick again. And again. And keep going, keep reliving it until he gets it 'right' every time."
"And sometimes, even when he picks all the right paths and gets to an 'ending', he still dies. He gets to the end so injured that he dies anyway. And then he has to go back and through a whole bunch of different paths to get to another ending, one that's better."
"And that's just how it works. That's Henry's normal, everyday life, and it sucks." Charles's voice broke on those final words, choking off into silence.
"God." Slumped against the sofa back, shock leaving her limp and useless as she stared at the back of Henry's head, Ellie couldn't think of anything else to say.
She'd never heard of someone having the ability to come back from the dead like that. The ability to go back and choose a different path or action in order to avoid a bad fate. If you'd asked her before this, she'd have expressed jealousy. How handy it would have been to rewind the clock and rectify past mistakes when a heist went wrong, or someone sold her out. Hell, even to remember to pack an umbrella when it was going to rain, or avoid a sandwich that would give her food poisoning.
But looking at Charles holding back tears and Henry buried in his side and shaking, she was starting to realise what a burden it must be.
"I- Fuck, okay, is it alright if I ask questions?" She waited for Henry's tentative nod. "Do you remember, when you d...when you pick the wrong path?"
Henry shifted enough that she could see his hands and face. His signing was more stilted now, in the way that it became when he was exhausted. He didn't look at her.
'Always. Remember every time. How I pick better path. Try and forget afterwards.' He shrugged, moving Charles's arm along with his shoulders. 'Doesn't work.'
Something occurred to Ellie, then. An awful, awful thought.
"Your nightmares."
It wasn't a question so much as a statement, but Henry nodded anyway.
‘Worst ones.’ He chucked, but his heart wasn’t in it. ‘Get lucky sometimes, dream of funny deaths. Or funny options.’ He couldn’t keep the smile on his face for long, strained as it was. ‘Not often enough.’
“...funny deaths. There’s such a thing as funny deaths.”
‘Try and dance my way out of situations a lot. Only worked once.’
“Geez Henry, that’s not funny…” Somehow, Charles’s expression had fallen even further.
‘Funny in comparison.’
“No, it’s worrying! Fucking hell, Henry, death shouldn’t be classed as ‘funny’ or ‘not funny’, it’s crazy! Why would you keep trying something like that when you know it doesn’t work?”
‘Because I don't have anything else Ellie!’ Motions sharpened and became harder, harsher. When he used her name sign, a loosely curled, outwards facing fist moving down from his mouth and then up to his hair, the speed and force of it was vicious.
‘Can’t sit at options forever. Have to try something. Lot of time, it’s wrong. Sometimes takes long time to die.’ If Henry hadn’t been mouthing the words as he spoke, she’d never have been able to keep up. ‘Funny deaths often short. Easy. Almost relief. Know they won’t work, but fun to do, over quick. Can be like…’ Henry paused here, tapping his chin. ‘Like a break, maybe. Before going to new options.’
He let that sink in, the other two floundering for anything to say. Shockingly it was pretty difficult to find the appropriate words when your friend just announced that sometimes he dies deliberately for a breather.
“Fuck Henry. That’s messed up.” Charles kicked at her, glaring, but Henry didn’t seem to take offense.
‘Messed up person.’
“Okay, I mean this in the best possible way, but how haven’t you gone mad? Doing the same day over and over, dying a shit-ton of times...how are you still sane?”
‘Not sure I am.’
The silence that followed was stifling.
“I...look, I’ve thrown the words 'insane’ and ‘crazy’ around a lot so far this conversation. But you aren’t Henry.’ He’d curled his hands back into his shirt, worrying the fabric between his fingers as the silence stretched on, but at her words they clenched. ‘Your powers are. Honestly Charles is right, they suck. I...I really can’t even imagine what it’s like. But you aren’t crazy. A crazy guy wouldn’t have helped me escape from the Wall.”
“Pretty sure a crazy guy wouldn’t have helped the government get intel on the Toppats.” Charles rested his cheek on Henry's hair. “And then we’d never have met. Wouldn't have been friends either.”
“Hey, that’s a good point.” Ellie nudged him, gently, in the ribs. “Insane people don’t have friends.”
It didn’t have the effect they’d hoped.
‘You don’t want me as a friend.’
“Uh, pretty sure we do bud. You think I’d let anyone crash here?”
“You let me crash here.”
“Because we’re friends, and we wouldn’t have been friends if we hadn’t been Henry’s friends first! So there you go.”
Henry sat up a bit more, violently shaking his head. ‘No. Not good friend.’
“What, You’re not a good friend? I’ve got a government pardon that says different.”
“You made those amazing chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast on my birthday, and you gave me the recipe!”
“You literally saved my life before we’d even introduced ourselves properly.”
“You keep giving me those candy bars because you know they’re my favourite, and I know you’re stealing them but it’s still really nice of you.”
Whatever the pair of them were going to say next was interrupted, Henry signing Stop over and over again, smacking the side of his hand into the palm of the other repeatedly. When he was sure they were both listening, his signing picked up again, faster and looser than before.
‘Bad person. Bad. Promised no more stealing, still steal-’
“It’s just candy Hen’, I don’t mind-”
‘-push buttons on purpose-’
“I do that too, we’re both still adjusting-”
‘-wake you up with screaming-’
“Henry, you can’t help having nightmares!” Charles went to grab his hands, before thinking better of it and setting a hand in between Henry’s shoulder blades instead. “Especially considering your powers, it doesn’t make you bad dude!”
‘About what I did!’ Henry flung himself off Charles’s lap, pacing back and forth in the small gap between the sofa and coffee table. ‘Bad choices. Left you behind. Betrayed. Let you die.’ His hands shook, falling out of configuration, and with one last visible effort he pulled them back together to sign ‘Got you killed’ before they fell to his sides, shaking in time with his shoulders.
---
Head hanging low, he couldn’t see the expressions on Charles and Ellie’s faces. He hadn’t meant to let that slip out, fuck, they really were going to hate him now. He actually thought he could keep that a secret, actually thought he might get to have a happy ending with the two of them after he’d worked so hard to get here...stupid.
Neither of them were dumb. Now they both knew about the opinions, and now he'd let that little tidbit of info out, they’d realise what he’d done. Playing fast and loose with someone’s life was never okay.
He stood, head bowed, waiting for their judgement. Waiting for someone to make the first move, to throw him out or storm out themselves. Waiting to be left alone again.
Henry knew, deep down, that he wasn’t going to survive losing them. The closest friends he’d ever made, the first two people he’d really, truly cared about for as long as he could remember to the point of fucking with the universe hundreds, maybe thousands of times to find a way to keep them both in his life. To keep the three of them together, safe. Unharmed. Unhunted. Free.
It had seemed an impossible task, at times. But if there was anything Henry Stickmin was good at, it was impossible.
And now he’d ruined it.
No options this time, when he really could have used it. No second attempts. No chance to rewind the clock.
One nightmare, one outburst, and it was all about to blow up in his face.
If something didn’t happen in the next few seconds, he was going to save everyone the trouble and run. He’d disappeared before. He could do it again.
Anything was better than this.
The silence stretched out. Twin gazes burned into him, and he tensed, ready to bolt.
But he’d forgotten one thing.
He’d forgotten never to underestimate either Ellie or Charles.
And, as each of them grabbed one of his hands and held on tight, fate smiled in his direction.
There was no need for options right now.
---
Grabbing Henry’s hand had been completely instinctive on Charles’s part.
Something you picked up when you’d been flying as long as he had was prediction. To see the first hints of movement and picture where someone was going to go next, or read a situation and anticipate how the next few seconds would play out. You didn’t get to the level of experience he had without developing good predictive skills. Those skills also relied on the ability to act on them instantly, sometimes letting muscle memory take over, sometimes just moving without hesitation.
So when he’d seen Henry visibly droop, waiting for something to happen - a reply to his words, maybe an outburst - and as they’d all remained frozen, seen his muscles tense, Charles knew exactly what was about to happen and moved to stop it.
He wasn’t letting Henry go after everything they’d been through.
It seemed as if Ellie felt the same way. Shooting a quick glance at her, he realised she’d probably come to the same conclusion that he had - if they let Henry go, they’d have a hell of a time finding him again.
They weren’t going to let that happen.
Gently, slowly, the two of them pulled on Henry’s hands and drew him back to the sofa, maneuvering him around so he was in Charles’s lap again. Ellie eyed the set up for a moment - Charles with his back against the armrest, Henry tucked in his arms and held sideways against his chest - before lifting Charles’s legs and settling them in her own lap with his feet falling to the sofa on her other side. She was able to get in much closer to the two of them like this, and could reach far enough to slide an arm between Henry and the sofa-back, curling it around his ribs to hold him too. Her hand and wrist were warmed by the heat of them both where it sat trapped between their bodies.
It was clear Henry hadn’t been expecting them to do that, and it was as if the shock of it made his defences fall all at once, shattering as they hit the ground and leaving him open and more vulnerable than Charles could ever remember seeing him. No stoic facade, no anger, no nerve or sass or confidence. Just open astonishment overtaking fear.
And, despite moments ago being completely at a loss for how to approach this, how to start what was going to be a very rough conversation, Charles suddenly found the words.
“How could you think you’re a bad person when this is the ending you picked?”
Ellie blinked, comprehension dawning on her face.
“Dude, look where we are.” He reached out and gestured for Ellie’s other hand, which she gave him, and he set it over Henry’s which were curled in his lap. Charles laid his own hand on top. “You, me and Ellie. Team Triple Threat, going out on missions together - legal, government sanctioned missions - kicking ass and taking names. You two got pardoned and have gone mostly legit, I got a commendation, none of us has got so much as a bruise on us for the last two times we’ve flown out. We’ve got this place-” here he nodded towards the flat as a whole, sunlight spilling in from large, wide windows “-which we all pay in for, and the most we ever argue about is who finished the milk and didn’t replace it. Our lives are awesome.”
“This is better than I ever thought I’d get.” came Ellie’s quiet confession from Henry’s other side. She stared off into the middle distance where the documentary was still playing and leaned into his arm, red hair brushing over his skin. “Was pretty sure I’d spend my whole fucking life on the run before this, looking over my shoulder constantly and hoping I didn’t get stabbed in my sleep or thrown in the Wall to rot. Sure as hell didn’t think I’d get to be happy.”
Henry jolted, a full body movement, and he whipped his head round to stare at her. She kept her eyes fixed forward, but a tiny smile was pulling at her lips. Calm, content.
“That’s what it comes down to, Hen’.” Henry tore his attention away from Ellie and slowly brought it back to Charles, wide-eyed. “Ellie and me, we’re happy. I’m pretty sure you’re happy too, y’know, generally. And we get to live this life because of the choices you made, not despite them. It doesn’t matter-” and he folded his hand gently around one of Henry’s that he’d pulled free, stopping him from signing objections, “-what you picked before. You told me that you get to choose which ending you end up in, which one you go forward with and live, and you picked the one where we’re all together living our best life. And you think we should hate you for that? Nah, man. Never.”
“You’re our friend, Henry. I haven’t had many of those before and I ain’t letting you go without a fight, especially not to some stupid options.” Ellie’s grip tightened on Henry’s hand. “You wanna tell me you betrayed me? Or got me killed or whatever? Charles is right, It doesn’t fucking matter. It doesn’t matter what happened when you were figuring out what paths to take, it doesn’t matter if you screwed up, hell, it doesn’t even matter if you did some awful shit on purpose just to see what would happen. If I had your powers, I’d do that shit too. Become Queen of the World, or take down the Government, or, fuck, I don’t know, blow myself up a bunch of times. After all of that, you decided living with us and complaining when I use up all the hot water was what you wanted your future to be.” She looked up, fixing Henry with a serious look. “If you were going for bad, you missed it by a fucking mile.”
And Henry?
Henry crumpled.
He didn’t do loud. Loud was difficult when your vocal chords were paralysed. The most he’d been able to get out for years was a few words at a time, and it was too damn painful to be worth bothering with. He’d even managed to train himself not to shout or scream if he was hurt due to the after-effects, though he wasn’t always successful.
But, thankfully, he’d long been able to get his point across without words or volume.
So when he folded into himself, sobbing unashamedly, clinging to the two pairs of arms that wound around him almost instantly, he knew he was making himself heard.
How grateful he was that they cared.
How grateful he was that they understood, or were trying to.
How fucking grateful he was that they were all there, together, and that he wasn’t going to lose them because of this.
---
The early hour was left behind, winding its way past mid morning and towards late as, with encouragement, Henry let out some of the things that had been plaguing him.
So many deaths. Countless fails. Injury, fear, the feeling of fading only to pop back into existence right at the start. Sometimes unexpected, sometimes welcome, sometimes even anticipated. Always painful.
Learning from his mistakes. Being better prepared. Failing anyway.
Trying again. And again. And again until he got it right.
Failing further down the line. No good endings. Going back and finding a new, different ‘right’.
Losing so much time to options. Coming to the realisation that he was probably much older now mentally than he was physically due to all the resets. Coming to terms with that.
Fading empathy. Trying the morally ‘worse’ options out of curiosity, then just for fun, then because it wouldn’t matter if he could reset it all anyway.
Optimism fading to apathy fading to cruelty looping back around to apathy. Another loop to be stuck in.
Then.
Then…Henry tells Charles and Ellie how finding the pair of them broke him from the cycle.
Meeting Charles first, of course, at the Airship mission. Trying out all the paths, finding all the endings but going back to redo the ones where they worked together again and again. Deliberately spending as much time as possible with him, and taking a while to realise why.
Denying it.
Becoming the Toppat leader. Realising it wasn’t what he wanted. Sticking with it anyway out of spite. Getting betrayed at the Wall.
Going back. Working with Charles. Getting pardoned. Building a friendship. Wanting, for the first time in quite a while, to keep this timeline going...and getting thrown in the Wall anyway.
Escaping alone. Finding Charles again.
Taking down the Toppats with the Greatest Plan. Soul-destroying loss that was the most frequent cause of his nightmares.
(A break for hugs. Three friends in tears.)
Refusing to say goodbye. Going back to the Wall to find another way, however long it took.
Taking notice of Ellie. Trying out her options, finding her endings.
Leaving her behind, only for betrayal all over again and a Toppat civil war that wasn’t worth it even as he finished the path.
Being impressed, however reluctantly, that she’d broken out of the wall to come after him. Noting how quickly she’d risen within the Toppats. Being intrigued.
For the sake of completeness, never meeting her. Getting betrayed anyway, then getting revenge with a side dose of cybernetic augmentation.
Going back. Trying out more paths. After trial and error, calling Charles and escaping with him. Charles lives and bounty hunting ends up being fun, but Ellie is still present in the back of Henry’s mind.
Back once more. Escaping with Ellie. Growing higher in each other's esteem until they are proud to call each other allies. Then, as paths continue on, becoming friends.
Not wanting to let her go either.
Desperately pinging back and forth between timelines, dying and failing and winning and losing over and over again to find the perfect path, the magic combination that will let him keep them both in his life. Spending the equivalent of years on what seemed like a hopeless wish. Guilt building ever higher as he lost them time after time, to death or back-stabbing or stupid mistakes.
Finding, at long last, the Triple Threat path.
Finally, finally, slowing down.
Finally letting himself live.
Enjoying his life, for once, and filling it with breakfast pancakes, epic missions, laughter and friendship. Relishing the rough parts, the arguments, the occasional fight, the nightmares, because those were part of living too.
Thinking, with bone-deep certainty, that it was all going to be ripped away again.
Thinking about finding a final ending for himself, as he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going after losing them when they’d wormed their way so far into his heart.
Ellie and Charles smashing all his expectations, and finding he had never been so happy to be wrong.
It was a long, exhausting purge and at the end of it his fingers ached. His cheeks were sore from smiling so hard and he’d cried himself into a dehydration headache, but his soul had never felt so light. If Ellie and Charles hadn’t been holding him, he could almost have floated away.
They hadn’t escaped unscathed from the onslaught of information either - Ellie had paled considerably from some of what she’d heard, and there were sticky lines on her face from tears, but she clung grimly to Henry’s hand, unwilling to let go. Charles was red-faced and blotchy, always the most visibly emotional of the three. His hair was a mess from pulling his headphones off and on repeatedly, a fidgety motion that often came out when he was upset just so his hands had something to do.
Together they were the human equivalent of a demolition derby car. Messy and half-destroyed, drained, a little bit on fire, but still by some miracle holding together.
The onslaught of information and the emotional toll it had cost had left his friends a bit out of it, so Henry took it upon himself to help out where he could. After persuading them that it was okay for them to let him go, he wasn’t going far, he dragged himself up and disappeared into the bathroom with Charles’s ruined t-shirt. After cleaning himself up, he reappeared with damp washcloths for the pair of them and grabbed three cold bottles of water, placing them on the coffee table before heading to his room to get changed.
By the time he emerged in a t-shirt and fresh joggers, with another shirt in hand for Charles, the washcloths sat in a pile on the end of the table and two of the bottles were mostly empty. Ellie reached for the unopened one just as Henry rounded the side of the sofa, waiting for him to sit down next to her and for Charles to tug the new shirt over his head before passing it to him. Icy condensation dripped down his hands as he took a long pull, leaning into Ellie and feeling Charles tuck himself against his side.
The three of them sat, half watching the TV and half processing, comfortable in each other's silence.
Until there was a knock at the door.
Charles beat Henry off the sofa, so he stayed where he was with a smile creeping across his face until their pilot came back, bag in hand.
“Err, so that was a delivery guy? I didn’t think we’d ordered anything but he insisted he had the right address so…”
“What is it?” The arm around Henry’s shoulders shifted as Ellie sat upright a bit more.
“It’s...oh wow.” There was another knock at the door, and Charles dashed off again before coming back with a cardboard drinks holder. “He forgot these. So, it’s these three coffees, and the bag has three breakfast sandwiches and a load of hashbrowns.”
“How the fuck-”
Henry sniggered into his water bottle. He made sure both of them were looking before he signed an explanation.
‘Ordered food when I went to get changed. Impartial judge couldn’t decide who had the best hugs even after getting so many.’
“Aw yeah!” Charles passed the coffees out and upended the food onto the coffee table, taking out the other water bottles in the process. “Hashbrown time! Thanks Hen’.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Ellie’s words were stern, but she held him steady against her as she reached out to snag her sandwich.
‘I wanted to.’ Henry took a long pull of his flat white. He put it down, hands waving as he tried to find the words to describe how he was feeling. After a minute of watching while Charles ate his way through several hashbrowns in quick succession and Ellie tried and failed to keep her sandwich from falling apart as she ate it, he realised it would take far too long to say everything he wanted to. So he settled for just two words.
‘Thank you.’
“Don’t need to thank us, dude. We’re a team, we’re here for each other.” came one answer.
“We’ve got your back, even if the universe doesn’t. Get used to it.” came the other.
And fate smiled once more, and let him be, in the best ending he could have ever hoped for.