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Mia blinks awake, and it's only once she notices the glare of the bedside alarm clock does she realize she isn’t still sleeping.
She drags a hand from where it was hanging slack off the side of the bed and rubs her eyes, pawing the crust away with a tired groan. Blearily, she peers around her room, dark and shadowed except for the clock reading the time in dim red letters. Just after one in the morning. Great.
She sat up as the sleep drained out of her, pulling down her sleep mask from where it was uncomfortably askew across her cheek. She was never good at getting back to bed after being woken up at night. It was more of a recent development—she’d always been a heavier sleeper, but what with Elliot’s disappearance, she’d be up at the slightest sound. Always listening.
He was back now, and the habit had, stubbornly, stuck around. Mia sighed and slid out of bed, stumbling over the clothes and papers strewn about the messy floor until she reached the door and swung it open.
The hallway was almost darker than her room, but she could get around in this house blind if she had to. It was a measurably impressive feat, given the size of the mansion. A glass of water would do her some good.
Flicking on the kitchen light as she walked in, she busied herself with grabbing a clean glass and holding it under the tap, wakefulness slowly returning even as the heaviness in her bones remained. She took a sip from the glass and pressed her dry eyes shut for a moment.
Maybe there was some assignment with a far off due date she could take a look at to pass the time until sunrise. She used to be ahead of the game like that all the time in her classes—another thing that’d fallen to the wayside when her life flipped upside down.
It felt like now she was always struggling to get things turned in on time. She’d made a promise to herself, mostly for her family, that she wouldn’t let her grades drop while Elliot was gone. She knew her brother would be disappointed or a little sad if they did, even if he wasn’t around to know, and that thought, compounding with the listlessness in Dad’s face every morning, cemented it.
Her father already had his hands full managing the bulk of Builder Brothers and taking care of paperwork for Uncle B’s RHQ duties. The last thing the Builder family needed was for everyone to fall apart completely. The least Mia could do was do that privately, and spend the rest of her time trying to keep up with it all.
Anyway, that didn’t matter now, since Elliot was back. It was about time she started trying to get back to being academic-excellence-always-on-time-role-model Mia. Begrudgingly, she thought maybe the semester-long project in English could be chipped away at for a few hours.
As she left the kitchen, glass abandoned in the sink, she glimpsed a flicker of light in the corner of her eye. Turning and brushing her bangs out of her eyes, she stared blankly at the thin slit of light spilling from a door slightly ajar. Elliot’s room.
Her feet moved forward without thinking, gliding ghostly over the hardwood to hover in front of the door with pause. Hesitantly, she raised her hand and knocked softly on the doorframe, waiting for a response. She felt the faint, rhythmic thump of her heart through her throat gently grow louder.
There was no reply. She nudged the door open, heartbeat building, and stared at the empty room. Covers undisturbed on the bed, desk chair pushed in. The room looked untouched—Elliot hadn’t done much with it since he got back, but the lack of life was almost nauseatingly unnerving. Even still, usually it felt brighter. Ever so slightly, a coldness began to burn in her fingertips. She left.
He wasn’t in any of the restrooms. Picking up her pace as she pretended like she wasn’t rushing through the mansion halls, she peeked into the study and the living room, the sunroom. Nothing. It was only when she started making her way to her father’s room—after another loop of the second story—did she get an answer as to where the hell her brother was.
A thud, muffled and distant, sounded from the roof above her. She looked up, scanning the ceiling, and almost laughed in relief. Of course. The roof. He hadn’t vanished again. The pit in her stomach eased. She knew exactly where he was and where to go.
Mia was on the other side of the second floor in seconds, silently heading toward the back end of the house. Here, the handful of guest bedrooms had been collecting dust, unused for years. All but one.
She nudged open the door to one on the corner, weak moonlight filtering in through the blinds. A small smile found its way onto her face as she noticed the curtains stirring in the breeze, the balcony door behind them still slid open by about a foot. Sidestepping the bed, she pushed the door open wide enough to squeeze through, and took a breath of the night air.
Cold, clean, October having set in the cooler weather by a few weeks at this point. In front of her, branches of their grand backyard oak pushed between the bars of the balcony railing, their leaves rustling in the night as they stretched toward the roof above her. In the gaps of the tree’s thick canopy, the moon sat in its gibbous just under the zenith point, enough to shed some light while leaving a scattering of stars to glimmer unfettered.
It was more than enough light to carefully swing her leg over the railing, brace against the wall to stand up, and grab a hold onto one of the sprawling branches brushing up on the back of the house. Their father never remembered to come out and trim them, so they served their semi-lucrative purpose well. Technically, they weren’t allowed on the roof. Technically, that wasn’t true if Dad never knew they were up there.
She leaned a little over the balcony edge to get a better grip on the branch, pulling her body up until she could get an elbow on the topside and push herself the rest of the way, hugging the tree like a koala. Her breathing came a little shallow as she peered down at the grass suddenly far too distant from her and tightened her jaw, shimmying forward. “Damnit, El.”
Elliot had shown her how to do this years ago. He’d probably laugh if he knew how scared it actually made her. Briefly, she wondered how he’d figured it out in the first place, having apparently been notorious (by his own words) even before Mia was born. She didn’t really believe that he’d been caught enough times to be “notorious,” given how the branches were still here and not at all moderated, but whatever.
As soon as she was close enough to the roof to stand on the edge, she darted off the branch, the susurrus of leaves whispering behind her. Relaxing now that she was on solid footing, she cautiously took stock of her surroundings, and then crawled further up the roof until it finally flattened out. There, hunched over and face pointed skyward, sat Elliot by the edge.
Surely he’d already heard her clambering, but as she walked closer he didn’t turn his head or acknowledge her. She exhaled quietly as she stopped beside him, waiting briefly for anything at all, and just sat down next to him when nothing came. Stealing a glance over at his face, his eyes were tired, ridden with bags, and focused above them.
She followed his gaze, tilting her head back to drink in the night sky. Their house was the tallest in their neighborhood. With the tree behind them, there was nothing else high enough to cut into the view of stars, no other obstructions. The sky was laid open and wide around them. This high up—and maybe it wasn’t really that high at all, compared to the high rises in Roblox City or the office towers at RHQ—it felt like she was part of the sky, too.
Mia pulled her knees to her chest, cat socks scuffing against the shingles. Her sleep mask still hung around her neck. It was cold, but her pajamas were warm and her hair tumbled down her back and around her sides like a shield. Elliot was still in his work clothes, red shirt rumpled, and she could smell the grease on it even from where she was sitting. It’d probably be harder to find one of his shirts that didn’t smell greasy. He was at the restaurant more than he was at home.
Absently and without taking her eyes off the sky, she started combing through her hair with her hands, gently straightening out the knots even as her eyes were locked on the moon. It was probably about time she got it cut. It got everywhere and was always in her eyes, but half the time she couldn’t bring herself to. Usually Elliot helped her. Up until recently, he’d been gone.
The two sat in silence with the breeze and occasional cricket, the sound of their own breathing the only thing between them. Mia wasn’t sure how long it’d been after a certain point, just that the moon was ever so slowly inching forward. It was dark and peaceful up here. She felt herself listing slightly to the side until eventually she just sagged against Elliot beside her, eyes half shut.
She felt Elliot’s arm freeze for a moment, before all the tension coiled in his body died out and he slumped forward like a puppet with cut strings. Gingerly, like it was something he wasn’t sure how to do anymore, he moved the arm she was leaning against and draped it over her shoulder in a loose hug. Mia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and willed the emotional lump in her throat to go away, at least until she was alone.
She wasn’t expecting it when the silence was interrupted.
“You know,” Elliot started weakly, voice hushed even though they were the only ones there. “There were no stars. Where I was. It was… I guess it always looked wrong. Like bad photoshop. It always looked fake. One time, the moon was a square.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she stayed quiet. What was the right thing to say at all? Those few sentences alone were the most Elliot had said about where he’d disappeared to in the three or so weeks he’d been home.
She’d learned some details from Shedletsky, eavesdropping on calls between her father and uncle from around the corner, and covering her mouth with her hand so Dad wouldn’t hear it when she gasped. She knew it was some kind of hell. She knew only a few made it out.
He continued, voice hollowed and empty. “I guess whatever was controlling it all couldn’t keep track of what the real sky looked like. Uncle B thought it was kind of funny. Like… like, you can keep us all here, and make up whole forests and houses and fields but suddenly the sky is too hard? But I think maybe it was on purpose. Maybe it didn’t want it to be perfect.” A pause. "Sorry for waking you."
Mia listened quietly, eyes fixed on the moon still. The obvious question hung between them—what happened to Uncle Builderman?—but she didn’t ask it. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer. So, instead, she asked something that was hopefully slightly less daunting. “Who else was there?”
It took Elliot a moment before he said anything. “You remember Matt? He used to work at HQ with Uncle B and Shed, but you might’ve been too young back then. He had the pumpkin hat. Cool wizard guy? He was there. He’d cast spells to keep us safe.”
“The riddles guy?”
Elliot laughed. “Yeah. That’s him. One of those old demolitionists was there, too, but he mostly kept to himself. There was this one guy I got along with pretty well. He owned a casino back home, had a pet rabbit. Bunch of Limiteds. I don’t…” he trailed off. “Well. Anyway, his hair was just like yours. Maybe a bit shorter.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s—” Elliot looked down at her for the first time the entire conversation, a sad turmoil in his eyes she could just barely make out in her periphery. “It’s okay. It’ll figure itself out.”
Mia pressed further into his side without a reply, taking the weight and warmth beside her and committing it to memory. All those people, trapped and alone, in a place with no sky, her uncle supposedly among them still. But her brother was right here. Her other uncle was just a dial tone away, and his new kid had seemed nice over the phone. It felt selfish to feel a little relieved.
“The stars are really pretty tonight.” She finally said, twisting her hands in a lock of tangled white hair.
Elliot breathed out softly beside her, looking back up. “Yeah. They are.”
It wasn’t long before Mia felt her eyelids starting to weigh heavy, noticing belatedly how every time she blinked it lasted longer. She was okay with that. She didn’t really have to start that English project anyway.
Elliot noticed shortly later, though, when she’d dozed a bit too long and then snapped herself awake to try and savor the moment a bit longer, but at that point it was game over.
The dreary haze that had settled over his shoulders for most of the interaction evaporated as he straightened, pulling himself up to stand and dragging his arm away from her side. “Jeez, it’s late, you should be getting into bed. Don’t you have school in the morning?”
Mia sighed, following suit and painstakingly rising to her feet, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear so she could see. “Dad’s been letting me sleep in.”
She wasn’t looking at him, and couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the exasperation in his voice. “Okay, well, I don’t care, you can’t just skip. I never got to skip. Come on. Get. Go.”
He shooed her forward with light prodding jabs to her back until she stumbled forward with a bright laugh, shuffling over to the side of the roof with the tree while he followed behind. “You’re a dick. I’m not five.”
“Wah wah. Keep it moving. When the hell did your hair get so long?”
“I’m growing it out. Good for strangling. Better lock your door.”
“Sure.”
She handled the tree branch down with as much grace as she could afford at two-something in the morning, and dropped the rest of the way down to the balcony to save herself from any embarrassment. Elliot dropped down a moment later, pushing the sliding glass door open and bowing at the waist dramatically from the side, gesturing for her to enter. She aimed a kick at his shoe as she walked in.
They took the walk back to her room leisurely and quietly. Part of it was to not wake Dad—his incessant snoring had promptly halted as they’d passed by his room, and they’d stood frozen in the dark for an agonizing three minutes before it was safe to keep going.
But part of it was, at least Mia thought, that it was a fragile moment. Sensitive stuff between them wasn’t anything really new, but it was awkward. It could be awkward. Sometimes it felt like she was too grown for a lot of stuff, and she knew realistically there was no such thing, but, well. Insecurities.
She knew she didn’t really want to go to bed and wake up in the morning and pretend nothing had happened. She just—She missed her brother so bad. It’d been almost a year since they’d gotten to do this. While they walked, she found opportunities to subtly glance behind her, just to see him standing there in his ugly uniform and his unwashed hair.
Because even if he was back, it didn’t feel like it all the time. She’d come home from school to find out he’d taken a late shift at Builder Brothers, much to both her and their father’s chagrin. If she did catch him at home, he was asleep, busy with supply forms, staring listlessly at the walls of his bedroom, or otherwise unavailable for hanging out with.
She saw the reality of things, how badly he wanted to get back to life and how bad he was at doing it. She heard the doors slam when Dad told him he had to cut back from working front of the house, and later when he’d been gently told that he’d have to be dismissed from the kitchen, and even then occasionally pushed to supplier shift with Mike. She noticed how there were med kits hidden in every room of the house. Before all this, she was the resident house lurker. It’d be hard not to miss how they were jammed into shelves and corners and bookshelves.
This normalcy, in comparison, felt kind of fake. But it was something she’d agonized about wanting back for months over months, and she knew Elliot desperately wanted it too. He was so far from alright it was almost laughable, but right now he was indulging her and making sure she got back into bed, even if she interrupted his midnight brooding.
So they walked slowly, just to stretch it out a bit. She couldn’t be more grateful.
Elliot flicked on the hallway light once they got off the stairs and walked towards her room, leaning in the doorway while she made a dramatic show of throwing herself onto the bed, face smushed into one of the pillows. Muffled, she muttered, “Happy?”
She heard him snort. “That was abysmal.”
Rolling over, she shot him a glare in the lowlight. “Alright, tough guy, like you’re any better.”
He crossed the room and nearly tripped over one of her textbooks on the ground, slamming a hand against her wall to steady himself and blanching when the resulting thud was louder than either of them were expecting. Mia broke into a fit of giggles, watching Elliot’s horrific poker face break into a grin with increasing delight.
“Shut up!” He whispered-shouted at her, reaching over and whacking her head with a pillow. She yanked it away from him and narrowed her eyes, scurrying out of reach to the head of the bed and sliding under the blankets before he could try and snatch it back.
“And, for your information,” He whispered hotly while crossing his arms, still with that dramatic flair. “I can do so much better. When Mom was around, I wasn’t even allowed to leave the house until my bed was made.”
She leveled him with a flat look. “So it’s her fault you’re like this.”
“If she was alive you’d suffer just the same.” He flung one of her stray plushies at her face and straightened the covers on her bed while she balked and swiped it away. She kicked at his hand from under the blanket and laughed when he smacked her leg back in response, resuming his fussing. “There. All tucked in. I’ll drive you tomorrow. Got kicked off the opener crew.”
“They won’t even let you open boxes?”
“That’s exactly what I said!”
“Jeez,” she noted some of the poorly hidden frustration in his face, just barely visible from the red glow of the alarm clock. “I’ll see if I can’t pester Dad about it.”
“Thank you. Your conniving and wily ways will be appreciated.” He retreated to the doorway, taking care to avoid the obstacle course on the floor.
When he turned back to look at her, haloed in the light from the hallway, she couldn’t make out his face but could hear the faint smile in his voice. “Alright. G’night.”
“Goodnight,” she whispered back. “Remember. Lock your door.”
“Yep. Got it.”
Then, he pressed the door quietly shut. Mia heard his footsteps as he walked away and then heard the click of the lightswitch, and any light still peeping under the door blacked out. She turned on her side, still clutching that one pillow he’d thrown at her to her chest.
There was just a bit of sadness lingering in her mind, something solemn and lamenting, but she thought of the feeling of leaning beside him just a moment ago and let it chase away the guilt. For a moment, she just sat with the afterglow and smiled. She closed her eyes.
When she woke up in the morning, she could absolutely say it was the best sleep she’d had in weeks.