growing pains

Summary:

The flytrap is not supposed to think. But for the first time in xyr life, xe is outside of the Garden. There is not much else to do. So xe learns to think anyways.

Gloria Bugsnax, the Baltimore Crabs, and how to be human, or at the very least human-adjacent.

Fandom: Blaseball

Published: 21 May 2021

Word count: 17.7k

Ao3 link: growing pains

Notes

A/N: Gloria Bugsnax was a potted Venus flytrap that the Flowers took with them to away games who eventually replaced an incinerated player. This fic is based on a pretty simple idea: Gloria becomes more human over time. This is a story about unbecoming a monster, whether you want to or not. All my love to Blink, who shaped all my ideas about the Garden, and who caught all my typos. (Any remaining typos you see are my fault.)

Content warnings: description of a sports injury (not bloody but painful), and themes of depression, neglect, and self-harm.

Consciousness is a tricky thing, winding its way inside the flytrap. It doesn’t know at first that this is something worth holding onto, and then it doesn’t know how to hold onto it. For so long it was part of the Garden, and the Garden thought for it. But it isn’t in the Garden anymore. It’s been separated, taken away.

Eventually, the flytrap learns to recognize consciousness and then how to hold onto it, sinking its roots into the river of awareness. It learns how to look. It learns how to see.

The first thing the flytrap is aware of is that it shouldn’t be aware of anything. The Garden gave it instructions, the only thing it knows. It belongs to a team of people. Its one job is to replace someone on the team if they wither in the sunlight. If someone goes away, and the Garden can’t provide, the flytrap is what it has provided instead.

The Garden even gave it a name. Glory of the Garden, it’s supposed to be called. Or maybe it’s Glory Ofthegarden, or Glory Gardener, or Gloryof Thegarden. The flytrap is learning how people use names, and it doesn’t think the Garden really understands them.

So the flytrap has taken it upon itself to learn about names. The team takes turns taking care of it, and the flytrap listens as they talk to each other. One of them has a name but sometimes people call it xe, and the flytrap likes the way that sounds.

The flytrap is not supposed to think. The flytrap is supposed to be named Gloryofthe Garden or something like that and it’s supposed to be there when the Garden can’t and then it can rest in the Garden afterwards. It is not supposed to think.

But for the first time in its — in xyr life, xe is outside of the Garden. There is not much else to do. So xe learns to think anyways.

Xyr time comes one day with flame that is and is not sunlight. Matheo, who had large hands and did not hesitate when he fed the flytrap, is gone. Some of the team scream and some are silent and all of them wait.

The flytrap rises from the pot. The Garden has given xem this magic: xyr roots twine into feet and legs, solid enough to stand on. There is a delicateness to xyr body that xe enjoys and is afraid of in equal measure. Xe can see well enough, through the magic of the Garden, and xyr leaves lengthen and thicken into something approaching fingers.

It’s Beck who steps up to the flytrap. “Do you have a name?” she says quietly.

The Garden gave it the ability to answer this question. Glory of the Garden. It is the Glory of the Garden and it does not have a mind. Except xe does, does, does, and xe thinks of Matheo feeding it and thinks of the cadence of names and thinks and thinks and—

“Gloria,” xe rasps out. “Bugsnax.”

It is not an homage. It is not out of hunger. It is not anything except the syllables, the rhythm to it.

Beck nods and goes to speak to someone off to one side. Gloria tests xyr weight on xyr roots. It is easy to stand. It is easy to walk. It is easy to move and think and be. Xe has heard people talk about liking things before. Xe is still teasing apart the details of “liking” and “feeling” and other such nuances, but xe has reason to think that xe likes being outside of the pot.

The line between accident and mistake is gossamer, so thin as to be invisible. Gloria cannot say what xyr existence is. Maybe it was an accident when xe began to think. Maybe xe even misspoke when xe chose xyr name. These things were not intentional. Xe did not have enough of a mind of xyr own to understand something so complicated as intention.

Is it an accident, though, when someone tells a joke and Gloria laughs? Is it an accident when the team asks xem about what xe likes to eat and xe has enough of an opinion to have answers? Is it an accident when xe draws on the magic of the Garden to continue speaking long after xyr voice should have run out?

There is only one thing that xe would consider a mistake, definitively: xe does not go to the Garden. After the team returns to Boston, Beck offers xem a place to sleep, and xe is so thrilled at the prospect of sleep that xe accepts.

If xe was thinking, xe would have run to the Garden. Xe would have thrown xemself into the soil and begged. Xe would have dug xyr fingers into the grass until they unfurled back into leaves, curled xemself into xyr pot and accepted the punishment of solitude in exchange for continuing to exist. If xe was thinking xe would have asked for forgiveness.

But xe was not thinking — not about the Garden. Xe was thinking about experiences. Xe was thinking about a new life.

At the end of the season, Beck takes xem to the Garden to replant them. They get to the edge of the field, the line between garden and Garden, and there is something humming through the stems of Gloria’s body. Xe will be in the earth once again. Xe will expand and be a part of a whole.

Then the Groundskeeper lumbers out, and xe stops, watching it. This means something, xe can tell with certainty, but xe cannot tell what.

“Little one,” the Groundskeeper rumbles, “you have transgressed.”

“I did what I was asked to,” Gloria says. Xe feels cold. “I would like to come home.”

But the Groundskeeper shakes its head. “You have chosen another home,” it says. Gloria has seen rogue umpires and so xe understands malice. Xe does not see malice here and that makes it worse, worse, worse. “You have chosen to make something of your own, and this place is not for you any longer.”

“I don’t understand,” Gloria says. Beck shifts closer to xem. Xe steps away from her, towards the Groundskeeper. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The issue is not right or wrong,” the Groundskeeper says. It is almost careless, the way it speaks. “The issue is that you chose to do anything at all.” And then it turns and goes back into the Garden, and when Gloria tries to run after it the grass shoots upwards and grows into a lattice that xe can’t get through even when xe thrashes and screams and bites at it and—

“Gloria,” Beck says, and pulls xem away. She waits until xe stills under her hands to speak again. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand,” Gloria repeats.

Beck hugs xem. Gloria doesn’t like it. Gloria doesn’t want it. Gloria doesn’t want anything but to go home.

Beck helps xem find somewhere to live in league housing, which she assures xem is a nice place to live. She is excessively gentle. She promises to check on xem during the offseason, and she promises to send Caligula to talk to xem, and she promises she will take care of Gloria as xe changes.

Xe doesn’t understand until xe tries to step into xyr pot. Normally xyr legs relax back into roots, tapering into nothing, but today they won’t. Xyr foot wedges into the pot and it won’t come out, not even when xe yanks hard enough to nearly shatter the pot.

After a particularly vicious tug, Gloria stumbles backwards and falls onto the floor. Pain shoots up xyr legs — xyr legs which are still roots, which aren’t unwinding, why won’t they unwind?

Xe bends one leg and runs xyr fingers along the roots, trying to find some kind of a seam, a loose end, a wisp of something. But it’s all solid. It almost feels like muscle, a thought that makes xyr hands shake. It can’t be muscle. It’s roots. Xe’s not a human, xe’s not, xe can’t be.

Xe digs xyr fingers into the meat — no, it’s not meat, it’s plant — the bulk of xyr leg. It does look appallingly like muscle, though. Xyr fingers push into one cord of root, trying to loosen it from the rest, but it won’t move. Xe tries again and this time it hurts, digging xyr fingers in between the layers of plant matter. Xe doesn’t have skin but this feels like burrowing underneath skin, like something xe shouldn’t be touching.

Gloria keeps digging for… hours. Even when it hurts so badly that xe makes involuntary noises, even when xe knows it’s hopeless, xe keeps pushing and pulling and tweaking and nothing makes a difference, nothing does anything at all.

It’s only when xe gives up, exhausted and wet-faced, that xe looks at xyr hands. The fingers used to be leaves. They don’t look like leaves anymore. There are no veins or edges, nothing to indicate anything less than wholeness. Only fingers. When xe dares to pick at one of them, nothing happens.

Xe screams until xyr throat is raw. It doesn’t take as long as xe expected. Xe’s new to having a throat, after all.

The Garden keeps some people in stasis. Chambers is ageless, old and young at once, kept alive by his love for the Garden. Caligula is something else entirely: she grew from the Garden itself and became exactly what the Garden wanted her to be. Caligula is beloved and docile and talented and warm. Gloria is none of those things. Gloria does not like Caligula.

And others change. Moses comes from another team and blooms immediately, almost between one second and the next. Hir hair is covered with flowers and ze smells like earth in a way that makes Gloria angry. Inez appears one day, a swarm that should be thoughtless and then learns to think. The Garden embraces them and calls them special and Gloria wants to rip their raincoat to shreds and hit them until it hurts.

Gloria is not granted the gift of stasis, and xe isn’t granted the gift of flowering either. Xe’s changing in the opposite direction, the wrong direction. Xe’s getting cleaner. Xe looks less and less like a flytrap every day.

Xe has hair now, which didn’t hurt when it grew in, and fingernails, which did. Xe has something like skin now, waxen grey instead of green and thick enough that xe has to drink water instead of simply absorbing it. Xyr mouth has gotten smaller. Xe used to be able to see by the provenance of the Garden, but during the offseason xe grew eyes, a horrible agony that gave them worse vision.

Everything hurts. All the time, it hurts. Caligula tried to help xem in her own way, but she burned into nothing. Beck tried so hard, so hard to be kind to Gloria, but Miami stole her away. And that leaves the rest of the Flowers, a team that lovingly and kindly celebrates the destruction of Gloria’s entire self.

Xe could try to take care of xyr body. It would be smarter. But this is xyr last act of rebellion against the Garden: xe refuses. Xe doesn’t eat. Xe lets xemself dehydrate and wither and hurt. If this is a gift then Gloria will not enjoy it.

The Groundskeeper said that Gloria chose another home. But that isn’t true. To embrace xyr body is an admission of guilt, or defeat, or humanity. Gloria rejects all of those. Gloria will not choose this.

Play must continue, as always.

Gloria is… fine, as far as players go. Xe would probably be better if xe bothered to drink water or whatever, but xyr body holds up through games without that and so xe plays without thinking about it. Xe’s been trying to think less, these days.

But sometimes xe has xyr moments. It’s the seventh season of blaseball, something like four years since Gloria started playing and ruined xyr own life. They’re playing against the Crabs, and Gloria hates playing against the Crabs. Xe doesn’t like blaseball but xe also doesn’t like losing, and the Crabs have won a championship, and they win a lot besides that.

But this game is special. The Flowers are winning, and when Gloria steps up to bat xe actually hits the ball. Xe hits it so hard it flies into the stands, and for a second xe stands and watches it before remembering: right. Home run. Time to run.

It’s fine at first, Gloria jogs to first base, and then to second. The Flowers are cheering in the dugout and xe smiles despite xemself. Xe likes the cheering. Xe likes the feeling of doing well, the feeling of—

Everything goes white hot for a second. Xyr brain can’t process it. Xe’s seen blooddrain and incineration, but this isn’t either of those. Xe’s not dying and xe’s not being attacked, xyr leg just hurts. Plain and simple hurts.

There are people shouting in alarm. Gloria can hear Margarito arguing hotly with someone, saying over and over that they have to pause play for a player injury. Xe’s not expecting anything to come of it, but then xe hears what sounds like agreement. Like things are actually paused.

When xe opens xyr eyes, one of the Crabs is kneeling next to xem. Xe doesn’t recognize him, but that might be because xyr leg feels like it’s being bee-stung or snake-bitten or… something. It’s making it hard to think about names, or faces.

“Your leg broke,” the Crab says matter of factly. “Not like bones— do you have bones?”

Gloria glares at him. He shrugs. “It looks like it just dried out and got brittle and broke under the pressure. Do you drink water?”

“Pedro,” someone calls from behind, and the Crab turns around. “You okay?”

“I’m keeping xem company,” Pedro answers easily. Gloria snarls, which he ignores completely. It feels bad to be ignored. People used to be scared of xem. The Flowers are still kind of scared of xem. Pedro doesn’t seem bothered at all. “I think we need a splint, for starters. And some water. And maybe fertilizer.”

“Yuck,” Gloria says before xe can stop xemself. Pedro looks back, eyebrow raised, and xe shakes xyr head. “I can’t be planted. I have to eat it, and I’m not going to eat it. Eating’s bad.”

Pedro seems to think about this for a minute, then glances over his shoulder. “Finn, can you get lemonade?”

“Lemonade,” Finn repeats. “Got it.”

It seems like none of the Flowers are paying attention. But Pedro is, and Gloria feels bad, and xe needs a distraction. So xe says, “I feel bad.”

Pedro snorts. “I bet.”

“My leg’s broken.”

“Well, yeah, but—” Pedro motions at xyr face. “That doesn’t look fun either.”

Gloria scowls. “My face is fine.”

“I meant your nose.”

“What about it?” Xe pauses. “Do I have a nose?”

“You’ve been growing a whole new body,” Pedro says. It’s not gentle, exactly, which helps. Beck was always so gentle and it made xem feel small. “That hurts. Believe me, I know it hurts.”

“Everything hurts.”

“It hurts less if you take care of yourself.”

Gloria sneers. “If I take care of myself then I lose.”

“That’s not how it works,” Pedro says, like it’s obvious. “Come talk to us after the game. We have advice for things like this, you know. You don’t have to deal with it by yourself.”

As if on cue, Moses and Dunn appear with bandages, and a very fishy-looking Crab comes back with a cup of lemonade. Gloria downs the whole thing and only screams a little bit as Pedro tapes xyr leg up. And then play resumes, but there’s nothing against getting help walking the bases, so Finn walks them with Gloria as Pedro goes to talk to Margarito.

It still feels like losing. Xe was trying to show the Garden that xe didn’t want xyr gift but in the end it only hurt xem. Xe has to hobble back to the dugout, leaning on Finn the whole way there. She tells xem xe’s doing a great job and xe tries to bite her, which luckily she doesn’t seem too offended by.

It feels like losing, but it also feels like winning, because for once the rest of the Flowers are looking at xem. Normally Gloria would hate that, but for some reason, today xe doesn’t mind so much.

It’s four days before Margarito pulls Gloria aside after a game and holds out a cell phone. “This is yours.”

“No it’s not,” Gloria says. “I don’t have a cell phone.”

Margarito takes a visible deep breath. “Let me try again,” xe says. “This is for you, because for some reason Pedro Davids is mad at me. I’m giving you this so that he bothers you instead of me.”

Gloria stares. “Why is Pedro bothering you?”

“He wants to ask about your leg.”

“Tell him my leg is fine.”

“He wants to ask about you,” Margarito amends, which is — confusing. Gloria doesn’t understand that. It must not show, because Margarito doesn’t bother explaining. “He has the number for this phone. He’s going to call you tomorrow morning. Please answer, so the Crabs quit harassing me.”

It doesn’t make sense. Half of the reason Gloria doesn’t have a cell phone is because that’s something people do, and Gloria’s not a person the same way that everyone else is. But the other half is because nobody would want to talk to xem. Not even Beck has called to check on xem specifically, as far as xe knows.

Xe doesn’t actually believe Margarito until the next morning, when Gloria wakes up to the most annoying noise xe’s ever heard. It takes a minute to remember the cell phone, and another couple minutes of fumbling to figure out how to slide xyr finger across the screen to answer the call. “What?”

“Oh, good,” Pedro says, and it’s definitely him, which is weird. There’s no reason that he should be doing this. “Hi, Gloria.”

“Why did you make Margarito get me a cell phone? I don’t like the noise it makes.”

“You said you were going to talk to me after the game, and you didn’t. I was worried.”

“I never said I would,” Gloria points out. “You asked and then I left.”

Pedro sighs. “Indulge me for a second. How’s your leg?”

“Fine.”

“And you feel okay?”

“I feel okay,” Gloria repeats.

“And you’re lying to me right now?”

“I’m lying to you right now,” xe says automatically, and then growls. “Why did you ask me that?”

“Because I want you to know that you don’t have to lie to me,” Pedro says. It’s that same not-quite-gentle matter-of-fact tone from earlier. There’s something soothing about it. “I’m not a doctor, I don’t know how to fix your leg, but it seems like you need somebody to talk to.”

“Nobody wants to talk to me.”

“I want to talk to you.”

Gloria has to pause for a second to process that. “I don’t think anybody has ever said that to me,” xe says at last. “I don’t understand why you would want to.”

“You don’t need to understand why,” Pedro says. From anyone else it would be patronizing, but something about the way he says it makes Gloria feel better. “Let’s try this again. How’s your leg?”

“Bad.”

“What kind of bad?”

“Are there different kinds of bad?”

“Sure,” Pedro says amiably. “It could be broken, or sprained, or sore. It could be that your leg feels fine but you feel bad about it.”

“I don’t know what those mean.”

“Which one?”

“Any of them.”

There are a long couple of seconds where Pedro doesn’t say anything. Gloria’s on the verge of trying to figure out if something is wrong with the cell phone when he says at last, “Has nobody — nobody on that team talked to you about getting hurt?”

“Beck used to.” Gloria pauses. “But I didn’t always listen, and I didn’t like the way she said things to me, because it made me feel bad, but I don’t know what kind of bad it was. And she didn’t say anything about breaking legs. Or about things being okay and still feeling bad. Or about growing a new nose. And now she’s gone, so nobody does it anymore.”

Pedro says something that Gloria can’t understand. Then he says, “Sorry. That was Yiddish. And some Spanish.”

“What did you say?”

“I was swearing.”

Gloria brightens. Nic had explained the concept of swearing, back when xe was fresh out of the pot. It always seemed fun. “Can you teach me how?”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

“What list?”

“The list of things you need to learn. Is it okay if I call you again tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Gloria says, and xe’s a little surprised by how certain xe sounds, but xe tries not to show it. “Would you still call me if I said no?”

“Probably,” Pedro admits. “But it’s important to ask what you want.”

People don’t ask what Gloria wants. The Garden didn’t ask what xe wanted. The last time Gloria wanted something it ruined xyr entire life. But for reasons that xe can’t even begin to understand, xyr eyes feel a little wet. Xe’s seen this happen to other people. Xe didn’t know it could happen to xem.

“Okay,” xe says after a minute. “How do I answer better when you call me tomorrow? I couldn’t figure it out.”

“When it rings, you slide your finger across the screen to answer. You can ask someone else to show you if you want.”

“How do I end the call?”

“I can end it this time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Gloria.”

“Okay,” Gloria says, and then there’s a soft beep, and when xe looks the screen of the phone is black.

That day in the dugout, xe finds Margarito and holds out xyr phone. “You didn’t show me how to answer this,” xe says plainly. It’s not an accusation, but it’s also not not an accusation.

Margarito looks stricken, but xe helps. Xe shows Gloria how to make calls and how to answer them. Xe has Gloria call xem, and hang up, and leave a voicemail, and listen to a voicemail. Xe points out the little icons that mean things. Xe shows Gloria how to plug the phone in.

The next morning, when Pedro calls, Gloria answers right away. “I learned how to answer,” xe says proudly. “Also, I want to learn how to read.”

“How to read,” Pedro repeats. “Okay, I can add that to the list. How do you feel today?”

“My leg feels less bad,” Gloria reports. “And I feel good about answering the phone.”

“That’s good,” Pedro murmurs. “We can work with that.”

Pedro calls every morning. Gloria thinks it’s a fluke at first, but then he keeps doing it. It’s always pretty basic things: he asks how Gloria’s feeling, and that’s about it. At least, that’s it until he explains that normally people say goodbye before they end phone calls, so Gloria starts saying goodbye.

And then the check-ins get more detailed. “Good” and “bad” aren’t answers anymore. Pedro wants specific things. He walks Gloria through all the ins and outs of bodies. Sore. Sprained. Tense. Nauseous. Pulled muscles. Sheer exhaustion. He answers every single question xe asks, too, without hesitation or judgment.

Xe still kind of thinks it’s a fluke until the next time the Flowers play the Crabs, about a month into the phone calls. Gloria doesn’t look forward to much, but xe’s looking forward to seeing Pedro.

But as the Crabs arrive at the Garden, it’s Finn who waves down Gloria. “Pedro’s running late,” she says brightly. “But he asked me to stick with you while he’s busy.”

Gloria’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

Finn tilts her head. She doesn’t look like the rest of the Crabs: too soft, not enough shell, teeth far too sharp. Gloria likes her a lot.

After a second, she begins ticking things off her fingers. “He’s running late because he wanted to talk to Margarito,” she says, and doesn’t stop even when Gloria startles. “He wanted someone to spend time with you because he worries about you. And he asked me because we talked last time I played against you.”

It’s an incredibly thorough answer. Gloria says, “How long will he be?”

Finn shrugs. “We’ll find out when he’s done. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know what there is to do.”

“Show me to the locker rooms?”

“You’ve been to the locker rooms.”

“Keep me company in the locker rooms,” Finn says, and that’s enough for Gloria to say yes.

Xe has met the rest of the Crabs, sort of, in passing. They didn’t play each other very often before the whole league scramble thing that xe didn’t care about, and then for a while they were The Crabs, an faceless unstoppable juggernaut. Gloria doesn’t bother with names for most anyone, not even the other Wild Low teams that are supposedly the Flowers’ friends.

But xe learned Pedro’s name. And Pedro talks about these people in passing, so xe’s determined to learn at least some of their names.

What Gloria’s not expecting is, well —

“Pedro told us about you,” says Kennedy Loser, and hands xem a small stack of paper. “These are physical therapy exercises. Most of us have grown new bodies at this point. We thought it might help.”

Or: Parker Parra hands Gloria some pieces of glass, odd-shaped and smooth. “To keep you grounded,” they say, and Gloria doesn’t even know what that means, but it feels better after xe slips a couple into xyr pockets.

Or: Sutton Dreamy greets xem by name. Or: Forrest Best waves and does something that xe can recognize as sign language, even though xe can’t interpret it. Or: Tillman Henderson ignores xem entirely, which is much nicer than xe was expecting.

Gloria waits until they’ve exited the dugout, going on a slow walk around the field, to say, “I don’t understand why everyone is being nice to me.”

“Because you’re learning a whole new world,” Finn says. “I had to do it too. All of them did. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“I’ve been doing it alone,” Gloria says.

To xyr surprise, Finn snorts. “Why do you think Pedro wanted to go yell at your captain? He’s happy to help you out, but it shouldn’t be his job to teach you about food groups.”

Gloria stiffens. “I’m not his job,” xe bites out. Xe can’t say exactly what it is about that, but it makes xem feel — well, xe doesn’t know what, xe’s still sorting through the idea of feelings, but it’s hot and cold and tastes like something bad. “I’m not something he has to — to take care of.”

“Whoa, no.” Finn holds up her hands like she’s trying to ward Gloria off. “I know you’re not, and he knows you’re not. That’s why — Pedro!”

Gloria turns, startled out of whatever the bad feeling is for a second, and sure enough there’s Pedro, walking quickly towards them. He looks out of sorts, cheeks flushed and hair at odd angles, but he waves at them both. “Hi, Gloria. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about—”

“I’m not your job,” Gloria says. Xe doesn’t mean to say it at all, and xe certainly doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question. “I mean — I don’t know what I mean.”

Pedro stops and glances at Finn, confused. “What were you talking about?”

“I misspoke,” Finn sighs. “I was trying to say that the Flowers should’ve been responsible for what you’re doing, and I said something that upset xem. And I’m sorry, Gloria.”

“I’m not upset,” Gloria says, and then pauses. “Is this upset? Is that what this is?”

“It’s a kind of upset,” Pedro says. There’s something strange about seeing him. Xe knows the cadence of his voice as well as anything, but there’s a whole host of new things to observe: the way he pushes his glasses up his nose, the way he bites his cheek as he thinks. “Finn, could you give us a minute?”

Finn nods. “I’ll talk to you later,” she says, and then she’s gone before Gloria has the chance to ask if she means xem or Pedro.

When xe turns back to Pedro, he’s smiling. It’s small and it’s crooked, but there’s something warm to it that makes Gloria smile back. Xe forces down the urge and scowls at him instead. “Why did you want to talk to Margarito?”

The smile shrinks, but it doesn’t go away. “I wanted to talk to xem about you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think xe realized that you were alone as you were, for a while there.” The smile finally goes away, and Pedro peers at xem seriously, eyebrows canted towards one another. “You’re a smart person and a good player, Gloria, but your team should make sure that you know things like food groups. Or how to read.”

“You don’t have to read for blaseball,” Gloria mutters. “What did xe say?”

“Xe said that xe’s going to figure out what the team can do for you.”

“Why wasn’t I there?”

That seems to catch him by surprise. His mouth opens and closes a couple times before he says at last, “I didn’t think to invite you. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.”

Gloria blinks at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because nobody should have to change alone,” Pedro says, instantly, easily. “And I thought I could help.”

“But why—” xe remembers the stack of papers in xyr hand and shakes them in the air, like that’s going to get answers. “What about this?”

“We all thought we could help.”

“Nobody helped me,” Gloria says. It’s supposed to be a statement of fact, but suddenly xyr throat feels like tree bark and xyr eyes are wet and Pedro is still right there, in front of xem, and this is the new worst thing that’s ever happened to xem, Garden or not.

“Gloria,” Pedro starts, and then cuts himself off. “How much touching is okay?”

Xe blinks, uncomprehending, and he lifts his hands to hover near xyr elbows. Gloria nods, and Pedro settles his hands on xyr elbows, warm and present and solid. “Somebody should’ve helped you,” he says, and when Gloria blinks something wet is running down xyr face. Crying, xe thinks. Pedro doesn’t say anything about it, just squeezes xyr elbows. “So we’re going to help you now. Is that okay?”

Gloria nods. Xe suddenly feels cold, or alone, or incomplete. Xe wants to wrap vines and roots around Pedro and swallow him whole, not for his sake but for xyr own.

But Pedro had asked, so xe will too. Xe forces xemself to say, roughly, “How much touching is okay?”

Pedro raises his eyebrows. “With me?” Gloria nods, and he pauses, thinking about it. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“Great,” Gloria says, and flings xemself forward into the first hug xe’s ever wanted in xyr entire life. Pedro catches xem easily, hands warm and solid against xyr back and he’s there and he isn’t letting go and Gloria doesn’t even care that Kennedy’s papers are crumpled and xyr face is wet. The only thing that matters is this.

Pedro’s unstable for one game.

He doesn’t tell xem until afterwards, and when he does it’s hardly a big deal. He mentions it offhand and Gloria nearly cracks xyr phone in half when xe says, “What?”

“I’m okay,” Pedro says, as though that’s the important part — which it is, but it’s not the important part that Gloria’s upset about. “Nothing happened. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Did you lie to me?”

“Gloria, no—”

“You’re my only friend,” Gloria says, which is embarrassing, and if it were anyone other than Pedro xe would feel stupid for saying it. “If you think you might die, I want you to tell me before you leave me alone.” Xe pauses. “Please.”

“I’m not your only friend,” Pedro says, which is completely missing the point. “You have your own team.”

Gloria barks out a laugh. He sighs. “Yeah, okay, good point. But I’m not your only friend. And I can’t promise that I won’t die, but I can promise that you’re not going to be alone.”

“Prove it,” Gloria says, and Pedro just laughs.

He stops calling every day.

Or, well, what actually happens is Finn starts calling once a week. Every ninth day, easy to keep track of. She asks different questions than Pedro does, and she makes different jokes. Gloria knows the rules about how to talk to Pedro, but not how to talk to Finn, and that’s scary until one day it’s not anymore, and then it’s fun.

The other reason Pedro stops calling every day is because Margo starts calling once a week, staggered a few days after Finn’s calls. It was originally going to be visits, but Gloria said that xe liked the phone better and so xe calls instead. It’s terribly awkward, but for the first time it feels like Margo is actually trying to listen to xem, so Gloria puts up with it.

It’s not even bad, mostly. Margarito had apologized more than once after Pedro’s conversation with xem, whatever that was about, and xe seems to be putting in an actual effort to ask about Gloria's doing. Gloria asks Margo all the questions that feel too stupid for even Pedro. It’s a step towards… something. Maybe something good.

And that leaves seven days a week that Pedro calls. He asks Gloria how xe’s feeling, and then he lets xem talk, and then he talks, too. He tells stories about the other Crabs. Some of them even talk to Gloria sometimes, mostly Kennedy and Dreamy.

The Flowers keep playing the Crabs. The Crabs all talk to Gloria more than the rest of xyr team, and xe likes that. It always felt like the Flowers were talking to the flytrap, but Parra’s smooth stones aren’t for a flytrap, and when Bertie gets xem crayons that isn’t a gift for a flytrap. It’s for Gloria. Gloria, Gloria, Gloria.

Play continues. The Flowers lose spectacularly. A new season starts and they lose less spectacularly, and the Crabs win, and win, and then they’re in the playoffs. Gloria goes to every game, and the Crabs wave at xem in the stands, and xe cheers when they become champions, and xe even hugs Pedro and Finn and a couple of the others.

The next morning, Pedro calls at the same time as always. Before he can say anything, Gloria says, “Congratulations.”

Pedro laughs, sounding pleased. “Thanks. Feels pretty good. You could’ve come out with us afterwards, you know.”

“I was tired,” Gloria says proudly. It’s true: xe was tired, and xe decided to stay home on purpose instead of getting more tired.

“Good choice,” Pedro says warmly. “So what are your plans for the siesta?”

Xe frowns. “The what?”

“The siesta,” Pedro repeats, and then pauses. “You weren’t a player last time we had a siesta, were you?”

“I don’t remember a siesta,” Gloria says slowly. “What is it?”

“It’s a year off.”

“From what?”

“From everything.”

Gloria stares at the wall in front of xem, mind racing. A whole year. It’s unthinkable. Gloria hasn’t gone a whole year without playing before. Gloria doesn’t know what to do with all of that time.

“What do people do during the siesta?” xe asks hesitantly. “What’s the point?”

“I’m going to spend some time with Val,” Pedro says. “You know Val, right?”

Valentine’s on the Spies. Valentine and Pedro write letters, Finn says. Valentine has a nice smile, Nic says. Valentine’s funny, everyone says. Gloria’s never talked to him. Gloria doesn’t like that Pedro likes Valentine this much. But that’s all pointless to say.

“I know Valentine,” Gloria answers. “Is that what people do? Spend time with each other?”

“People do what they want. I want to spend time with Val, and the rest of the team. You can spend time with your team. You can travel. You can do anything.”

Gloria doesn’t want to do anything. Xe wants things, sure, but there’s a difference between wanting things and being able to do them. This is the most xe’s been able to do in xyr entire life, and it’s paralyzing.

He must be able to tell that xe’s freezing up, because he says, “There’s time. There are a lot of choices. You’ll have time to pick.”

“Okay,” Gloria says, and then, “I’d like to move on.” And Pedro does, easy as anything, and xe tries to not to think about it.

It’s a bad choice, and Gloria knows it’s a bad choice. It’s a little bit out of spite, because what xe really wants to do is spend time with Pedro, but Pedro’s in Houston with Valentine. And it’s a little bit out of curiosity. And it’s a little bit out of the hollow, gnawing thing inside xem. Xe thinks it might be loneliness, but xe hasn’t asked Pedro about that yet.

Either way, a couple weeks into the siesta, Gloria picks the wrong choice, and goes back to the Garden.

The Groundskeeper meets xem at the entrance. “This is still not your home, little one,” it rumbles. “The Garden does not forgive so easily.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Gloria says sharply. “You put me somewhere where I was going to have to make a choice, no matter what, and then I made a choice and the Garden rejected me. What was I supposed to do?”

“You were not supposed to choose,” the Groundskeeper answers. Xe’s been getting better at tone of voice lately, and xe hears nothing here and xe hates that. It’s not sad. It doesn’t care at all about what it’s saying to xem. This is business.

Gloria used to think that maybe the Garden loved xem. Xe’s beginning to think xe was wrong.

“I always had to choose,” xe says at last. “Do you hate me?”

“The Garden does not hate.”

“Do you feel anything about me?”

The Groundskeeper doesn’t answer. Gloria turns and leaves. Xe wants to go home, but xyr feet carry xem to the dugout, the closest place to sit down. It turns out to be pointless, because after xe sits on the bench xe slides down to sit in the dirt anyways, knees drawn up to xyr chest.

Gloria does not make phone calls. People call Gloria. Xe doesn’t normally want to call anyone. But this time xe wants to, something needle-sharp and real, more real than the grass or than anything else.

Pedro picks up on the first ring. “Gloria?”

“I,” Gloria says, and then everything goes out of xem. Xe’s crying, and xe doesn’t even know why. Xe should’ve known the Garden didn’t love xem. This shouldn’t be a surprise. It shouldn’t hurt. It definitely shouldn’t hurt like this.

“Gloria,” Pedro says. Xe can hear him moving around, tries to imagine his face, the way his shoulders move. Xe wishes xe could imagine Valentine’s apartment. That way xe could imagine that xe’s there, instead of here. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s it called,” Gloria says, and then the words are rushing out too fast to stop. “What’s it called when my chest is tight, but not like a pulled muscle, and my breath feels like a hummingbird, and my throat hurts and I’m angry about the sun? Is there a name for that?”

Pedro lets out a deep breath. “You’re sad.”

“I hate it,” xe mumbles. “I hate it a lot.”

“Most people do,” Pedro says. Xe can picture him now, furrow between eyebrows and gentle hands. “What happened?”

“I tried to go back to the Garden and it didn’t want me.”

“You don’t need the Garden,” he points out.

He’s right, but Gloria bristles anyways. “It’s not about if I need the Garden, it’s about the Garden telling me no.”

“You don’t want it to tell you yes.”

“I want it to want me,” Gloria snaps before xe can think better of it. “Even if I don’t want it, I want it to want me.”

Pedro’s quiet for a minute. Gloria’s trying to remember what words go in what order for an apology when he finally says, “That’s not a bad thing. But you should try to want better things.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t, I don’t know what to want and I don’t know what to do for a whole year.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Pedro promises. “Okay? We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay,” Gloria says, and then xe doesn’t say anything, and neither does Pedro. Xe just listens to him breathe.

Xe’s kind of hoping that this is enough to get Pedro to come back to Boston. Instead, xe gets the next best thing: Finn and Kennedy show up the next morning, parking their van haphazardly outside Gloria’s ILB-sponsored apartment.

“Do you know what a road trip is?” Kennedy asks. Gloria likes Kennedy. He’s like all the good parts of Beck being captain and all the good parts of Margo being captain, rolled up into one.

Gloria narrows xyr eyes, thinking through the words. “It’s not just tripping on the road,” xe says slowly. “Margo said xe was going on a trip to the Hellmouth and that meant traveling. So is a road trip when you go on a trip with the road? Driving?”

“Good job,” Finn says from the kitchen. “We brought donuts, and then we’re going to help you pack, and then we’re going on a road trip.”

“Why?”

“I want to see Niagara Falls,” Finn says. “And driving from Baltimore to the Boston portal to New York is faster than going from Baltimore to New York.”

“And we wanted you to come,” Kennedy adds pointedly.

“Finn wouldn’t come here if she didn’t want me to come,” Gloria says. It’s surprising how sure of it xe is, but xe’s really quite sure that Finn wouldn’t invite xem if she didn’t want to. “What’s a donut?”

Finn’s eyes cut over towards Kennedy. “I told you we should’ve gotten more,” she mutters.

He snorts. “More than a dozen?”

“We need road trip snacks.”

“Stopping at a gas station for snacks is a part of the experience.”

Gloria brightens. Everyone else is always talking about experiences, but xe hasn’t had many of those outside of blaseball. It’s time xe got a few more. “Can we do that?”

Finn smiles, all sharp teeth, and Gloria smiles back on reflex. Xyr teeth aren’t as sharp as they used to be, xyr mouth isn’t as wide, but xe likes that xyr smile still looks pointy. Finn must like it too, because her smile widens. “Of course,” she says. “Get ready for an adventure.”

Road trips are not adventures.

“Maybe you should change what you think an adventure is,” Kennedy suggests.

Gloria crosses xyr arms. “We’ve been in a car for three hours, and I don’t even get to drive.” Xe pauses. “Kennedy. Kennedy, can I learn to—”

“Not today,” Finn says swiftly. “The adventure isn’t just sitting in the car.”

“I know that,” Gloria mutters. “Eventually we get out of the car. And look at things. And then we get back in the car.”

“And while we’re in the car, we can look at things.” Finn looks around and finally points out the window. “Horses!”

“Horses,” Gloria repeats. Xe knows horses. There are a couple horses in the league. But xe’s bored, and this sounds like fun, so: “Is that what you call those big red buildings?”

Finn looks positively scandalized. “You don’t know what horses are?”

“We don’t have horses in the Garden,” Gloria says innocently. “Why would I know what horses are?”

“Horses aren’t the buildings, they’re—” She turns to face Gloria more fully and lifts both hands, like she’s going to try and draw a silhouette with them. “Did you see the animals we passed, with the long necks and the manes?”

“Mane,” Gloria repeats slowly. “Is that the— like the hair?”

“Like the hair.”

“Finn,” Kennedy says. He sounds like he’s about to start laughing. “Xe absolutely knows what horses are. Xe’s played against Winnie before.”

Finn’s jaw drops. “Are you messing with me?”

“No!” Gloria pauses. “Is it working?”

Kennedy snorts. “Show xem a cow, that’ll really blow their mind.”

Gloria frowns. “I actually don’t know that one. What’s that?”

Finn gives xem a suspicious look, but she fishes for her phone. “I’ll show you one, and you point them out if you see them on the drive. Deal?”

“Deal,” Gloria says instantly. At least if xe’s looking for cows, xe won’t be bored out of xyr skull.

There are a lot of cows. And some sheep, another thing xe learns about. Xe points out the flowers xe recognizes and makes Finn look up the ones xe doesn’t. Partway through the drive Kennedy makes up a game about recognizing letters on signs, and that helps keep xem busy too.

They stop at a gas station and stretch their legs; Kennedy makes a big deal of making sure Gloria actually stretches xyr legs, but xe’s so drained from the time spent sitting down that xe ends up walking laps around the gas station.

Finn also makes xem get gas station snacks, because it’s a rite of passage, like she said. Gloria gets an iced tea that turns out to be too sweet, chips that are too salty, and powdered donuts that stick to xyr fingers.

“That’s the road trip experience,” Kennedy says. “Regretting the junk food and then getting the exact same thing next time you stop.”

It’s dusk when they get to the hotel, about twenty minutes away from the actual falls. Kennedy and Finn go out to dinner and leave Gloria by xemself, which is perfect, because the beds in the hotel are so big that Gloria can stretch xyr arms out and xyr fingertips don’t reach the edges. So xe rolls around happily for a while, and practices xyr reading and writing by texting Margo for a bit, and then Margo mentions that hotels have TV so she bothers xem until xe calls and helps Gloria learn to use a remote.

When Kennedy and Finn come back, Gloria is wrapped in one of the giant, fluffy white blankets from the top of the bed, for no other reason than because xe can be. Xe understands television in an abstract way: stadiums have jumbotrons, and it’s not that different from videos on xyr phone. What’s exciting is that it’s big.

“Is this the show about the Pies?” Finn says. She sounds happy. When Gloria turns she and Kennedy are leaning on each other in a way that xe thinks looks uncomfortable but must be okay. “Is this a rerun?”

“I don’t know what a rerun is,” Gloria answers. “But this is funny. I get why people do this now.”

“That’s right, you don’t have a TV.” Finn frowns. “What do you do when you’re not playing?”

“I’m playing most of the time,” Gloria points out. “And I’ve been learning to read. That takes a lot of time.” Xe’s not entirely sure if xe likes reading, and xe certainly doesn’t like writing. But there’s something nice about having something to do.

“We should get you hobbies,” Kennedy says. He leads Finn to sit on the edge of the bed next to Gloria, and then sits on xyr other side. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I’ve changed my mind about road trips,” Gloria says. “I think this is pretty nice.”

Xe’s staring at the TV, eyes glued to Ruslan and Morrow, but xe can still feel the smile that Finn and Kennedy exchange over xyr head. Xe doesn’t even mind.

The falls are gigantic.

Gloria has seen big things before. The Garden’s big. The Hellmouth is big. The Crabitat is big. But this is a scale that xe’s never seen before.

Kennedy and Finn have lots of plans in mind: going on a boat for a while, looking at different angles, things like that. Gloria waves them both off. Xe knows where xe wants to be.

It takes a while to figure out how to get to the island in the middle of the river, and then a while longer to figure out the footpaths to the smallest island xe can get to. Gloria has to look at maps, which has never been xyr favorite thing. Beck had been really bad at explaining maps and diagrams, and xe still gets confused.

But eventually xe ends up away from all the other people, at the very edge of the island. The falls are the biggest thing Gloria’s ever had to think about. Xe tries to imagine a map and then tries to imagine xemself on that map, tiny as xe would be. Not even a speck of dirt on that map.

A long time ago, Gloria had been part of the Garden, and that had meant something. It wasn’t just a place. It was a root system. It was taking water in and passing it through the grass to anyone who needed it. It was knowing Caligula, xyr sister before xe knew what sisters were, and mourning the loss when she began playing, and mourning the reunion too. It was big. Gloria had been in something big.

Now, though, xe’s small, stuck in something immeasurable. Xe can’t imagine xemself. Xe doesn’t have a preordained place here. Xe had to find xyr way to this place by xemself. It should be lonely. It should be sad.

But xe can see the falls. And it’s the prettiest thing xe’s ever seen.

Xe takes pictures and then sits down, huddled with xyr knees pulled up to xyr chest. Xe listens to people, and watches the falls, and doesn’t move till Finn calls them hours later.

“I’m on an island,” Gloria says. “And I’m fine.”

“Found a hiding spot?” Finn says. Gloria takes a minute to send her a picture of the falls, and she whistles. “Good find.”

“I think I like it here,” Gloria says. “Can I move here?”

“To the island? Probably not.”

“I meant Niagara.”

“If you wanted to. But there’s no league housing out here.”

Gloria makes a face. Xe understands money enough to know that it’s stupid, and in league housing xe doesn’t have to worry about rent, or even groceries if xe doesn’t want to. “Can I visit a lot?”

“I’m sure you can,” Finn says warmly. “Don’t move, I want to try and find you. Scavenger hunt.”

It takes another hour or so before Finn and Kennedy plop down next to Gloria. They’re both sun-warm and smiling. Gloria smiles back. “I like this better than the boat.”

“I might like this better than the boat too,” Kennedy mutters. Finn elbows him good-naturedly. “Have you just been here the whole time?”

“I didn’t need to be anywhere else,” Gloria answers. And weirdly, xe’s sure that xe’s right.

It takes Gloria a while to remember to ask Kennedy what hobbies are, but he explains and gives plenty of examples. They get back to Boston, and the drive isn’t nearly as bad on the way back, and then Kennedy helps xem find a kickboxing gym and a used TV and a couple books.

Pedro starts asking about the hobbies when he calls. Gloria doesn’t do them on a schedule, so xe just talks about whatever’s going on. Occasionally he makes suggestions that don’t sound like Pedro suggestions. Gloria thinks that they’re Valentine suggestions, but xe’s not sure why Valentine doesn’t just suggest them herself.

It’s a couple of months before Pedro finally brings Valentine to Boston. Gloria’s not sure what to do. Xe’s pretty sure that most people clean before they get visitors. Pedro had mentioned that Valentine cleaned before his visit, and he’d said it with a weird sort of fondness that Gloria didn’t know how to feel about. But xe doesn’t care that much. Which means that when Pedro and Val knock on xyr door, xe doesn’t bother cleaning up. Xe thinks it’s what Nic would call a conversation starter.

Case in point: Pedro walks in and hugs Gloria hello. Valentine walks in and says, “Did you rob a convenience store?”

“I’m learning to make colleges.” Gloria pauses. “No, the other one. Collages.” Xe exaggerates the ah sound, rolling it around in xyr mouth.

Valentine looks at the heaps of newspapers, and the projects drying on every available surface. “I can tell.”

“It was Dunn’s idea. She thinks I need to be more creative. And she had a lot of old magazines, and we got glue and scissors and poster boards.”

“Why collages?” Valentine asks.

Gloria shrugs, tugging at a coil of hair at the base of xyr neck. “Scissors are fun and it seemed easier than painting.”

“Got a point,” Pedro murmurs. He’s looking between the two of them, smiling fondly. “Do you want to go out to lunch?”

“Sure.” Xe pauses. “I should put all the scissors away first.”

“Good call,” Pedro says dryly.

Valentine and Pedro are there for five days, which is enough time for a routine to form. Pedro and Valentine bring breakfast, and Gloria dutifully shows them around Boston. Xe brings them to botanical gardens, mostly, but also to a mall xe went to once ages ago, and a couple other places people on the team have shown them. And then Pedro and Valentine go to their hotel, and Gloria goes home and cuts things up for collages.

The routine only changes on the last day, when Valentine arrives without Pedro. “He’s getting breakfast,” she says. “I wanted to come ahead.”

Gloria hasn’t decided if xe likes Valentine yet. He’s not straightforward enough, and Gloria can’t tell if he likes xem either. But they both like Pedro, even if it’s for different reasons, and if the Crabs are Gloria’s team away from home then xe wants to get along with her.

“Why?” xe says at last.

“Your hair’s bothering you,” Val says, which pulls xem up short. Xe didn’t think it would be that obvious. Xe’s gotten haircuts before, but it’s mostly been by wheedling someone else on the Flowers into taking care of it, and it’s been a while. “I’m going to show you how to cut your hair yourself.”

“I like when other people do it,” Gloria says, too surprised to duck around how embarrassing that is. “If I do it myself, other people won’t do it anymore.”

Val shrugs. “They would if you asked them. But you should know how to take care of the worst bits anyways. It’s better for you.”

Gloria thinks that through for a second. “I don’t care if it looks good,” xe says, mostly as a warning. “I just want it shorter.”

“You have scissors,” Val says. “I can show you how to make it look not bad.”

Xe grabs a pair of scissors and holds them out. Val leads xem to the bathroom and has xem sit on the sink with xyr back to the mirror. She pulls a smaller mirror out of somewhere and hands it to Gloria. “If you hold it right, you can see the back of your head.”

Gloria almost says something like I can’t see that, it’s behind me, but xe stops at the last minute. “How?”

Val shows xem how to angle the mirror. He shows them how to hold the scissors. He makes a joke about how Gloria’s lucky to have scissors instead of a pocket knife, and it’s strange enough to consider Val Games cutting his own hair with a knife that xe laughs.

That’s how Pedro finds them: Gloria awkwardly snipping at locks of xyr own hair, Valentine leaning against the opposite wall and giving instructions. Pedro stops short at the doorway, looking both stunned and pleased. “Having fun?”

“Scissors are always fun,” Gloria says distractedly. Xe snips at a clump of xyr own hair and then lifts it in front of xyr face, frowning. “Do you think my hair’s the same as your hair, or is it different because I’m part plant?”

“Probably different,” Val says. She looked at Pedro when he came in, the way that plants look at the sun, but she turns back to Gloria. “Spies could check it out, we have lab equipment.”

Gloria promptly holds out the fistful of hair. Val takes it and glances at Pedro. “I’ll find a bag for this and set up breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Pedro says gratefully. Val presses his shoulder against Pedro’s on his way out, and Pedro smiles after him.

Gloria can imagine the kinds of things that Finn and Kennedy would say, but xe’s still working out the exact words that people use to tease each other, so xe settles for an eyebrow-raise. Pedro rolls his eyes and steps in a little further, shutting the door behind him. “Good morning.”

Xe smiles. “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I didn’t realize how much the hair was bothering me till Val showed me how to cut it.” Xe raises the scissors for emphasis. “Scissors are fun, but they’re extra fun when you use them on your hair.”

“I’ll have to thank Valentine for teaching you that,” Pedro says dryly. “Ask your teammates for help.”

“Why’d you want to be alone?”

Pedro lifts a small bag that Gloria hadn’t noticed, with a little bow stuck to the outside. “You know what presents are, right?”

Gloria frowns at the bag. “Aren’t those for special occasions? Why’s today special?”

“It’s special because it’s the last day we’re spending together before Val and I go to Baltimore,” Pedro points out. “And it’s special because you were worried about the siesta, and now we’re almost halfway through it. So I wanted to give you something to do for the rest of the siesta.”

Xe takes the bag, still frowning. “I already own scissors.”

“There are other things to do than cut things with scissors. And you can own more than one pair of scissors.”

“Maybe.” Xe opens the bag and then stops. “Pedro.”

“It’s a gift,” Pedro says. “It’s yours.”

Gloria drops the bag in xyr lap and carefully lifts the digital camera out with both hands. It’s so new it’s still in a box. Most things Gloria owns aren’t new enough for boxes. “When did you get this?”

“I went back to the mall last night.”

“Why did you get this?”

“I told you, because—”

Xe shakes xyr head. Xyr throat feels a little raw, and xe has to swallow before repeating the question. “Why a camera?”

“You showed us your pictures from Niagara.” Pedro smiles faintly. “Ken and Finn said you took a lot of them, but I don’t think I really wrapped my head around it until you showed us how many you took. So I thought you could use something nicer than your phone. And if you like this camera, we can look into getting you a photo printer or a Polaroid, so you can make collages out of your own pictures.”

“Out of—” xe looks at the camera in xyr hands. “You mean I can hold my own pictures? With my hands?”

“If you want to.”

“Pedro,” Gloria says. Xe’s going to start crying any second. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Send me pictures of what you make.” He smiles, as though this is the easiest thing in the world, just a normal nice thing to do for a friend. Gloria has a lot of friends now, or at least more than just Pedro, and xe’s never done anything like this for them. Maybe xe should.

Xe nods and wipes xyr eyes. Pedro holds out his arms, and Gloria hops off the sink counter to hug him. Pedro hugs are the best hugs, even though he’s a little weird about his elbows. He hugs like he means it.

When they emerge from the bathroom, Val has Pedro’s takeout breakfast laid out on Gloria’s kitchen counter. She lifts her eyebrows. “That was quick.”

“You’re next,” Gloria says, and Val doesn’t have time to brace herself before xe throws xemself at her to hug her. Pedro laughs behind xem, startled, and xe can feel the exact moment Valentine relaxes.

Valentine’s a better hugger than Pedro. Not that xe’d ever tell either of them that.

The rest of Gloria’s siesta is spent with the Flowers.

Most of it, at least. Odds and ends are with other people. Beck visits, and she’s not a Flower. She also doesn’t treat Gloria like xe’s a newborn anymore, which is pretty nice. Kennedy and Finn take xem on a road trip to Baltimore for a couple days, which xe spends with the rest of the Crabs. Val and Pedro take xem to Vermont, which is full of trees that Gloria takes thousands of pictures of.

But Gloria has a team, and like it or not, xe’s going to be playing with them for the foreseeable future. So xe grits xyr teeth and tells Margo to invite them to the stupid movie nights for team bonding. It’s terrible, because xe doesn’t like popcorn or chips or soda, and because xe’s still learning what kinds of movies are the kind you talk during and what kinds are the kind you’re quiet during. But at least xe gets to watch more movies.

One day the team does field maintenance, taking care of the Garden. But Gloria’s not allowed in the Garden, so instead xe wanders around with xyr camera. Xe got a cheap Polaroid — Val’s idea, because even though xe likes the camera from Pedro better, xe also likes printing photos right away — so xe takes pictures of the whole team. Nic and Margo flicking dirt at each other. Alaynabella in the middle of flipping her hair. Moses and Dunn singing along to the radio.

Xe presents them to Margo at the end of the day. “I’m starting a team scrapbook,” xe says. “Scrapbooks are like collages, but it’s all in one book instead of posters. Val told me about them.”

“You took these?” Xe flips through the photos, eyebrows raised. “Gloria, these are good.”

“I’m good at taking pictures,” Gloria says matter-of-factly. “That’s why I’m starting a team scrapbook. So I need your old pictures of the team. Please.”

It turns out that out of the whole team, it was Isaac Rubberman who took the most photos. Gloria never knew nem, but Beck kept all nir things, so xe leafs through them. Ticket stubs. Pictures of the team at their first playoff game. Pictures of Matheo that Gloria stares at for far too long. Beck had a memorabilia stash too, although hers is less pictures and more knick-knacks from old teammates.

There are less pictures after Isaac died, and even less after Beck left. But there are a lot of pictures from this siesta. There will be even more, hopefully. Gloria likes taking pictures. It’s a life the Garden never wanted xem to have, and xe could say xe’s doing this out of spite. But really, xe just likes the weight of the camera in xyr hands.

The week before the siesta ends, xe passes around the first scrapbook at a movie night. It’s huge, filled with not just pictures but other trinkets, bits and bobs and things that Gloria wants to remember. The Flowers ooh and ahh over it, and it feels genuine. It feels like they’re proud.

Margo’s the only one who gives them a dubious look. “There are a lot of pictures of Crabs in our team scrapbook.”

Gloria waves xem off. “It’s my scrapbook too. I want to remember them.” Margo gives xem a look, and Gloria has to wave a hand again, this time less the practiced-casual move xe stole from Valentine and more like xe’s shooing a bug away. “I want the pictures of them,” xe repeats, and Margo doesn’t push.

Ascension is the axe hanging over all of their heads, the big word that nobody wants to talk about. Well, Gloria wants to talk about it. But Valentine won’t. Finn won’t. Pedro tried once and then changed the subject. The Flowers don’t know how to broach it, except for Glabe, who says incredibly unhelpful things about advice for how to say final goodbyes. Gloria doesn’t want to say good final goodbyes. Xe wants to know what’s coming.

But the siesta ends, and the season starts, and nobody knows what’s coming. The Crabs are good, of course they’re good, and it’s like watching debris on the wind, something that got picked up and now won’t stop blowing in a specific direction. They have two championships and they’re hurtling inevitably towards a third.

Pedro calls every other day, and Finn calls once every week or two. Gloria goes to practice and actually practices, and when xe talks xyr teeth don’t feel as big or sharp in xyr mouth as they used to. Xe thinks it’s because xe practiced talking until it didn’t hurt anymore.

The Flowers play six series against the Crabs, which is enough for xem to be happy about it. They lose most of the games, but it’s still good seeing them, whether they’re in Boston or in Baltimore. Margo never says anything when Gloria skips team dinner after games to hang out with the Crabs.

The best game is the last one they play against the Crabs that season, long after the Crabs clinched and while the Flowers were well on their way to doing the same. Gloria steps up to bat, practically bouncing with excitement. The Flowers are winning this game, somehow. It doesn’t matter for either of them, so there’s no intensity, just a fun match between xyr two teams.

MoCo waves from the mound. Gloria waves back and raises xyr bat. The pitch MoCo throws isn’t easy, and it’s not hittable. Gloria doesn’t normally swing at unhittable pitches, but this is a pointless game, a game for fun, so xe swings anyways.

The bat collides with the ball with such a solid crack that xe stumbles back in shock. And then xe looks up and watches the ball sailing up, over, away, all the way into the stands.

“What,” xe whispers, and then starts running. A home run. Xe’s hit home runs against the Crabs before, even a couple this season, but something about this feels different. It’s their last game against the Crabs, maybe even the last one ever, and xe knows as xe runs the bases that both teams are cheering for xem.

Xe feels xemself laughing more than hears it, ripping around the bases. When xe jogs to a stop at home, all the Flowers are cheering in the dugout. The fans are cheering. The Crabs are cheering. It’s not going to get them in the playoffs, and it’s not even going to be the run that wins the game. But it still feels pretty good.

Gloria doesn’t like postseasons. It’s a lot of pressure to be in one. The Flowers have only made it once while xe was on the team, and xe despised every minute of it. They squeak into the postseason and get knocked out by the Spies, and it should be a relief. It should be good news.

But somehow it’s worse watching the Crabs play their way through the tournament, winning and winning. All of the old Crabs players — Val, who’s in Los Angeli now, and Winnie and Joshua and Holden and Ollie — go to all the games together. Gloria doesn’t go to the games with them, even though Val invites xem along. Xe doesn’t want to see the road to the game that’s going to take Pedro away from xe.

The Crabs make it past the first round, and then the second, and then they win the first two games in the finals. Val calls Gloria and says, “Nobody else will come, and I don’t want to go alone.”

So Gloria goes to Charleston. Xe brings xyr camera, clutching it tight like a talisman. The stands are packed, and Gloria hates watching games on the best of days, and this is not the best of days. Xe has to whisper a mantra over and over to xemself: Pedro would do it for you. Kennedy would do it for you. They would all do it for you.

Xe sits with Val, a few rows behind the dugout, and talks loudly about all the pictures xe’s been taking. Xe’s been interested in buildings lately, because some of them are so square and some of them are so weird, so xe’s been exploring Boston trying to find weird buildings. They’re both watching the game just as much as they’re talking, and neither of them say they’re relieved when the Shoe Thieves win, but they are.

Game number four is in Baltimore. Val meets Gloria for lunch. “The team is doing a team gathering,” she says, and Gloria thinks xe can hear a little hurt behind her voice.

“Show me your favorite weird buildings,” Gloria says, and it’s enough of a distraction that by the time the game starts Val doesn’t look so worried anymore.

The Shoe Thieves win. Valentine goes home with the Crabs. Gloria goes back to Boston and tries not to think about tomorrow.

There’s no fun lead-up, no tour in Charleston, no nice lunch with Valentine where they can take their mind off things together. It’s just Gloria in a city xe doesn’t know. Xe nearly gets lost half a dozen times on the way to the Choux, and barely makes it on time to meet Val outside the stadium.

It’s still just the two of them. Gloria thinks the other former Crabs don’t want to watch the team ascend, if it happens at the end of the game. Xe doesn’t want to watch it either. But if it’s going to happen, xe wants to see it.

There are no stories. No pictures to show one another. The Crabs take a lead and keep it. Val grabs Gloria’s hand and squeezes so hard it hurts, so xe does xyr best to squeeze back.

“I don’t want them to go,” xe says at the top of the ninth.

“I wish I could go with them,” Valentine answers. Gloria can hear the tears in his voice and tries to wind xyr fingers in with his. Xe doesn’t look to see his face, but xe hopes he’s smiling. Or at least not crying.

It comes down to the bottom of the ninth. Gloria has a hand poised to furiously wipe away tears, because xe’s surely going to need it, when suddenly Shoe Thieves runners start getting on bases.

“Val,” xe says. “What if—”

“Don’t.”

“But—”

“Gloria,” Valentine says warningly, and that’s all she has time to say before there’s a sudden crack of wood against blaseball. The two of them look down and then up, because Stu Trololol’s ball is sailing out of the park.

“I told you,” Gloria says. Xe’s too stunned to say anything else, watching Stu scream with joy and run the bases. All the Crabs are in the outfield and Gloria can tell, even from here, that they weren’t expecting this. They look like the wind got knocked out of them.

“Dugout,” Val says, and gets to her feet so fast she yanks on Gloria’s hand. Xe stumbles upright, camera swinging on its lanyard around xyr neck and thumping into xyr chest. “We need to move. I want to see them.”

“You’re going to rip my arm out,” Gloria complains, but xe staggers behind Valentine. Xe wants to be waiting in the dugout too.

The two of them are so busy trying to get down the dugout that it takes Gloria a minute to notice the last out. Xe hears the noise first from the fans and then from the field, an endless wall of screams that feel like physical blows. Gloria’s been in the Choux before, so xe knows the path Val’s pulling xem towards, a winding thing that takes them under the stadium.

They don’t have time for that.

The noise stops as suddenly as it starts. There’s a shadow. Everything feels wrong. Val doesn’t stop moving, and Gloria has to force xemself to go along with his momentum or risk being left behind.

“Val,” xe says. It’s too loud in the silence. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Val says, steely-voiced. “But I’m not going to be sitting up here instead of finding out.”

It’s moments like this that Gloria remembers that Valentine was a spy — not a capital-S Spy, but an actual real spy for upwards of three seasons. She weaves through the crowd easy as anything, leading towards a service door that Gloria knows well.

Then the first emergency alarm blares out. Gloria jolts, and jerks xyr hand free from Valentine’s by accident. He whips around but it’s too late; the crush of people has separated them, and Gloria already knows xe’s not going to be able to make it.

“Go,” xe shouts, and hopes she can hear xem. “I’ll be fine, just go!”

Valentine turns and runs down the pathway. Gloria takes a minute to be grateful that the crowd of fans doesn’t seem to be running onto the field en masse. Some people are leaving, but more still are rushing towards the front rows, trying to get a better view.

It takes a few minutes for Gloria to find a clear path, but xe ends up climbing the bleachers to the highest row that xe can. Xe can see a couple other players up here, nobody that xe knows by name but faces that xe recognizes, stances that xe knows well. They’re half afraid and half ready to fight.

The emergency siren blares again. Gloria takes a deep breath and lifts xyr camera.

In the end xe goes home after the game, takes the closest portal to Boston and stumbles into xyr apartment.

There are three photos that xe looks at over and over. There’s one of Jaylen Hotdogfingers on the pitching mound, so far away that it’s impossible to tell that it’s her. There’s one of the Shelled One in the sky, so big that it’s barely identifiable as a peanut.

And there’s one of the Crabs dugout, zoomed in as far as Gloria could get it. Xe spends hours looking at that one, tracing a finger across the camera’s screen. Xe can tell half the players and has to guess the other half. Valentine’s there, just out of the edge of the frame. The back of Pedro’s head is visible.

The Crabs are alive. Wherever they are, they’re alive, and that has to be enough for now.

When xe wakes up, there’s no alarm clock. No ringing phone. No… anything. No calls from Pedro or Finn or even Val. A couple texts from Margo. A couple of notifications about Day X. About the Shoe Thieves’ surprise victory, and their surprise defeat.

Gloria blinks slowly at xyr phone. Xe can’t do anything to fix this. Xe didn’t want the Crabs to ascend, but xe also didn’t want them to lose. And they probably feel terrible, and xe should go to Baltimore, but the Crabs are so insular and weird sometimes, and—

Stop, xe thinks. The voice sounds eerily like Pedro. What can you do?

Xe looks at xyr phone. The phone looks back. Going to Baltimore might not help. But xe doesn’t have to go.

It takes two calls, and all the way up till the fifth ring on the second call, for Pedro to answer. “Gloria, I’m not—”

“Good morning,” Gloria says, and pointedly lets the silence stretch out.

He sighs. “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“This isn’t a good day for this.”

“That’s why I’m doing it,” Gloria says. Xe feels colossally out of xyr depth. But xe knows things he’s said to xem, and xe can just repeat those things and see if it works. “Sometimes the worst days are the best ones to say what you’re feeling out loud, because that way it’s outside and not inside.”

Pedro goes quiet for long enough that Gloria has to check to make sure the call is still connected. Then he says reluctantly, “I don’t feel good.”

“Not good isn’t specific.”

“Gloria—”

“Just say the words out loud,” Gloria snaps. Xe sounds irritated, and xe has to take a breath to try and calm down. “If you say the things, then they’re out of your head and in the air so they don’t exist anymore. And they’re still going to exist a little bit, but they’re just words and that means you can deal with them and it’ll be okay afterwards. You taught me how to do that, so you need to do it too.”

“You’ve grown up a lot,” Pedro says, and Gloria has to blink back tears. “We’re doing team things, I can’t stay long.”

“Then don’t stay long. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

Pedro hums. “I feel guilty,” he says at last. “And also relieved, and guilty for feeling relieved. And scared. A little worried about you.”

Gloria snorts. “You can’t worry about me, I’m worrying about you. And I’m fine. I’m going to go to batting practice after this, because next year when the Flowers win everything we need to be good enough to fight god, apparently.”

When Pedro laughs it’s a ghost of a laugh, barely any humor there. But at least he’s laughing. “You think you can win with your pitchers?”

“King’s doing a great job.”

“You have four other pitchers.”

“I’m trying to be nice to you and you’re making it hard,” Gloria says exasperatedly, and to xyr surprise Pedro actually laughs at that, a little stronger than before. “King’s nice to you.”

“He’s nice to you too,” Pedro says. “I keep track.”

“I know you do. Although I don’t think you need to anymore. I know who’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, you’ve got the hang of things. I’m still going to keep looking out for you, though.”

“That’s what big brothers do,” Gloria says without thinking. The line goes dead silent. Xe tries to bite down on a gasp. “I didn’t say that. If you want me to not have said it. Shit.”

“Who taught you that word?” Pedro says sharply. Xe can still hear the tears in his voice. Xe wonders if he has other siblings. Xe never thought to ask. There are so many questions that xe never asked, and now xe has a whole extra season to ask him — ask all the Crabs.

“I watch TV now,” Gloria answers. “You never taught me how to swear in Spanish.”

“Next week,” Pedro promises. “I have to go. I’ll call you—”

“Wait!” Xe waits until he hums in acknowledgement. “You didn’t say if you’re feeling better.”

“Of course I am,” Pedro says. He still sounds tired. Xe wishes xe could see him and hold onto him and cling tight, but xe has to settle for hearing his fondness over the phone. “My little sibling just called me.”

Gloria grins so wide that xe thinks xyr face is about to crack in half. “Tell everyone else I say hi, and that you adopted me so they have to be nice to me.”

“They’re already nice to you.”

“But now they have to be.”

“Now they have to be,” Pedro repeats. He goes quiet for a second, and Gloria thinks xe’s going to have to lead the charge on goodbyes too, when he says in a rush, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Gloria says immediately. It’s the easiest thing xe’s ever said. “Goodbye, Pedro.”

“Bye, Gloria.”

Xe falls back on xyr bed, grinning at the ceiling. Xe’s a little sibling now. It feels pretty cool.

Season ten is terrible.

All seasons are terrible, but there is something uniquely horrible about the slow march towards fighting god. The Flowers are doing well, and Gloria avidly wishes they weren’t. Xe can see what happened to the Shoe Thieves, the way they all jump at loud noises and just seem miserable now. Xe doesn’t want to be miserable like that. Xe doesn’t want Margo or Nic or Dunn to be miserable like that.

And xe doesn’t want the Crabs to be either, but xe knows better. Xe talks to Valentine once a week now, and he’s said in no uncertain terms that Gloria needs to brace xemself for the worst.

“Miracles don’t happen twice,” Val said. Gloria’s pretty sure she’s right.

In the fifth game an umpire hurls a fireball at Gloria, and Margo pushes xem out of the way at what feels like the last second. It’s the closest xe’s ever come to dying, actually dying, and xe lies on the ground flat on xyr back, unable to look away as Margo swallows fire.

“Thank you,” xe says later, after the game’s over and Nic’s done freaking out. “For doing that.”

“I’m your captain.” Margo smiles tiredly. Xir hair is still a little singed. Gloria wants to reach up and break some of the burnt ends off. “And you’re my friend. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too,” Gloria says. On cue, xyr phone starts ringing. Xe answers immediately without even looking to see who’s calling. Xe knows. “Do you guys have a fire eater too? You should get one if you don’t.”

“Fucking hell,” Pedro says. His voice is shaking, and Gloria clutches xyr phone like that’s going to bring him closer. “I saw the video—”

“Margo’s fast,” Gloria answers. “And I wasn’t that scared. I mean, I was. But I’m not anymore, because it’s Margo.”

They stay on the phone for hours, the longest that they’ve ever done. All the Crabs take turns talking to Gloria, and xe makes them all promise that they won’t let Pedro watch videos of Flowers incinerations ever again.

Games against the Crabs aren’t fun anymore, though. The memories of that last game from season 9 feel like a dream. The Crabs aren’t playing for a good time, they’re playing like they’re training to kill the Shelled One. They probably are training to kill the Shelled One. All of them look tired and grim, even when they smile, even when they celebrate.

The season whips by in a blur. It’s like Gloria blinks and then it’s the postseason again. The Flowers don’t make it this time, and Gloria can’t even be relieved because xe’s so busy trying to get ready for the Crabs to leave. Xe has plans, things xe wants to get done before saying goodbye, but it’s hard when xe doesn’t know when the goodbye will be.

The Crabs get precious few days off during the wildcard round. Pedro spends two of his days with Val, and Gloria doesn’t say a word about it, because they deserve a chance to say goodbye. On the third day xe takes the interdimensional portal to Baltimore and spends a morning with Kennedy and Finn walking around the city, and an evening with Val and Pedro.

Pedro finally teaches xem to swear. It takes the whole night, but xe and Val dutifully repeat Yiddish and Spanish words until Pedro says they’re good enough. It’s not as fun as Gloria thought it would be. Maybe it’d be more fun if it weren’t a blatant distraction from impending doom.

And then the postseason starts in earnest, and Gloria gets to work.

The last game sneaks up on xem. Same as before, it takes Valentine calling for xem to realize. It’s in Baltimore this time, at least, so it’s easy for Gloria to get there. This time they sit right by an exit. Val wants to sneak in during the last inning so that they can both be there, and Gloria’s inclined to agree.

Neither of them say anything. They sit together in the stands, gripping each other’s hands. The sun goes out and Gloria’s not even sure that Val notices. Her eyes are fixed on the field. Xe doesn’t need to ask who she’s looking at.

The game rolls into extra innings. At the bottom of the tenth Val says, “Now,” and gets to his feet. Gloria runs two fingers down the lanyard around xyr neck, tracing a circle around the lens of the camera, and gets to xyr feet.

“Valentine,” Gloria says quietly. “What’s the plan?”

“Be there,” Valentine says. “Help them stand up when they fall down. Hope they don’t fall down to begin with.”

Val doesn’t let go of Gloria’s hand this time, holding it tighter than Gloria’s ever been held before. He leads xem through the Crabitat, through a back hallway that Gloria doesn’t know, walking so fast that xe has to jog to keep up with her. They’re inside but Gloria can still tell when the game ends, because a siren blares and then there’s silence.

“Val,” Gloria says. “I’m scared.”

“Join the club,” she mutters. They take a turn and suddenly Gloria knows where they are, exactly how close they are. “Ready?”

“No,” Gloria says, but xe follows Val into the locker room, and then out into the dugout.

Finn looks at them, face ashen. “They’re on the field,” she says hoarsely.

Gloria glances around the dugout. Bertie’s sitting in a corner with his arms folded close to his chest, and MoCo’s next to him. Finn’s the only one standing, brimming with nervous energy.

Xe has to shake xyr hand loose from Valentine’s grip, but xe goes over and wraps Finn in a hug. “We’ll be here,” xe says. “Whatever happens, we’ll—”

Finn cries out, and Gloria’s grip on her tightens instinctively. Xe can hear Bertie and MoCo make similar noises, but xyr priority is Finn, because her whole body is going slack, like she’s about to collapse.

“What was that?” Gloria looks at Val, and it doesn’t help, because for the first time xe can tell that he really is just as scared as xem. “Val?”

“I think—” Val swallows. “I think they lost.”

Gloria drags Finn over to the closest bench and settles her down on it, breathing hard. The Shelled One is booming words over all of them, too deep and too loud for Gloria to understand. It just sounds like noise.

“How did it do that?” Finn whispers. “All of us, how did it— Ken, Kennedy, we have to—”

“You have to sit,” Gloria says. Xyr voice is too high and afraid, and xe shakes xyr head. What would Margo say? What would Beck say? “You have to sit,” xe repeats, with a little more confidence. “We can help him in a minute.”

“Quit being the reasonable one,” Val says. Gloria flips her off, a gesture that xe learned less than a week ago from Pedro.

“We have to,” Finn says, but she’s faltering already. She casts a glance over at MoCo and Bertie, still huddled together, and Gloria can see her eyes fill with tears. “What did it do to us?”

“Nothing you can’t fix,” Gloria says. “Catch your breath.”

“Head between your knees,” Val says quietly, and Finn complies with that, ducking so her head is between her knees. “In a minute we can—”

“I made a deal,” a new voice says, crystal-clear in the air. Val’s eyes widen, and even Finn tries to sit up for a second.

Gloria frowns. “Who is that?”

“It was talking before,” Finn says, muffled by her legs. “I think it’s Wyatt — like, the first Wyatt.”

“One more game,” says the first Wyatt. “It was the best I could do. I don’t know what happens then.”

“One more game,” Val repeats, looking grim. “Do you think that means the Crabs?”

“If any of the Crabs try to play a game right now I’ll bite their fingers off,” Gloria says peacefully. “It wouldn’t do that to them.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And then now or never,” says the first Wyatt. It doesn’t sound afraid. “Well. But, please… rally.”

The last word shoots across the field, enveloping them all like sunlight. Gloria can tell xe’s not the only one who feels it. Finn sits up with a gasp: she still looks miserable, tear tracks down her cheeks, but she looks more alert than she did moments ago. “They’re here,” she says, a note of wonder to her voice. “From the Hall.”

There’s a flash of blue light on the field. Gloria can’t tell what it means, but Val must see something, because she goes rigid. “Holy shit,” she murmurs. “You’re right.”

“Wait,” Gloria says. “If another team is playing, do they need the dugout? Do we need to go?”

“To the stands,” says a voice from the entrance. It’s Kennedy. He’s stumbling, he looks exhausted, but he’s upright. Finn leaps to her feet and reaches out to steady him, as though she’s in any position to be holding anyone else up. Ken catches her around the waist and holds on for dear life. “The stands. They need the dugout. We need to see this.”

Gloria looks at Val. “I’ll go last if you go first.”

“Deal,” Valentine says. Bertie and MoCo are standing now, and she waves them towards the locker room. “Come on. We’re going.”

Gloria stands guard at the entrance of the dugout, waving all of the Crabs through. Most of them don’t spare xem a glance, but she takes stock of all of them. Parra and Dreamy, clinging to tangibility and one another for dear life. Tot, looking mournful. Forrest, staggering by too fast to get a good look at. Brock, who stops long enough to look at xem and say “Bertie,” and waits for xem to say “Fine” before he keeps moving. Nagomi Mcdaniel, seething mad. Luis, hair matted in front of their face, hands shaking.

The last two are Pedro and Silvaire, who also seem to be leaning on each other for support. Pedro doesn’t notice xem until Silvaire nudges him, and then his eyes widen. “What are you doing here?”

“Head count,” Gloria says. “Everyone else is in the stands. I’m just making sure you all get there.”

“You’re doing great,” Silvaire says. Gloria thinks she means it, but her voice is flat and tired and sad. “Thank you.”

“Val’s waiting,” Gloria says. “Better hurry.”

Xe half expects Pedro to double his pace, but instead he reaches out to ruffle xyr hair. “Thank you,” he says quietly, and then he and Silvaire are on their way.

Gloria takes a second to survey the empty dugout. There’s a cooler with water bottles, gear everywhere, personal effects that xe doesn’t want to touch. But people could probably use water, considering that a god just traumatized all of them. So xe goes to the water cooler and lifts it up, ready to carry.

“Hey,” someone says, and Gloria startles so badly xe drops the cooler. “We need that.”

“No we don’t,” says another voice. “We’re dead.”

Gloria turns around. Dominic and Randall Marijuana look back at xem.

“I want water,” Randall argues. “And it’s right here. Can’t you leave it?”

“Get it yourself,” Gloria snaps. “The Crabs need it.”

Dominic laughs, looking delighted. “I remember you! You’re the snappy little guy from the Flowers. Are you a Crab now?”

“No, I’m just friends with them.” Xe crosses xyr arms. “And you don’t need this.”

“We don’t need it,” Dominic agrees. “Randy’s just being difficult. Feel free to take it.”

“I will,” Gloria says, and then pauses. The dugout is filling up with people xe doesn’t recognize, or half-recognizes. All of them are dead. “You’re the team?”

“We’re the team,” says Randy. “I’d offer autographs, but—”

“Hold still.” Xe lifts xyr camera and takes a picture, and immediately opens the file. The ghost of Randall Marijuana is staring at xem through xyr camera.

“Did it work?” says someone Gloria doesn’t recognize.

“It worked,” xe says slowly. This feels like kind of a big deal. “I’m going to take pictures of you now.”

“Feel free,” says Dominic, and so xe starts taking pictures. Candid shots of people coming into the dugout, and pictures of reunions, people pairing off, people waving at the camera. Even Jaylen Hotdogfingers holds still long enough for Gloria to get a picture. She’s rolling her eyes, but it’s still a picture.

Xe gets thirteen pictures of thirteen players and turns to look at the fourteenth, and xyr words die in xyr throat.

Caligula Lotus blinks at xem. She’s taller than Gloria remembers. Glowing. Ethereal. A gift from the Garden, xe thinks derisively, except — that’s old Gloria. That’s the angry little flytrap.

“Hi,” xe says. Caligula waves. “I have a question.”

She inclines her head. Once upon a time the Garden allowed the two of them to speak directly to one another, but neither of them belong to the Garden anymore.

Gloria swallows. “Did you like Cali? Better than Caligula?”

Names matter in the Garden. Castillo has a name and not much more than that. Caligula had a name and she kept it. Gloria had a name and xe picked something different for xemself. Maybe that was why the Garden didn’t love xem. But xe’d always called Caligula by her full name. Never the nickname. Never something that the Garden hadn’t chosen.

Caligula looks at Gloria. And slowly, she nods.

Gloria swallows. “Cali,” xe says, and some of her petals open wider, like she’s blooming. “Hi. I’m Gloria. I’m going to take your picture now.”

When Gloria takes the picture, Cali is as close to smiling as she gets. Xe takes a few more pictures of the dugout, a couple of whoever’s at bat, and then goes to the water cooler. “I’m taking this.” Xe looks at Cali. “Good luck.”

“Do the rest of us get good luck?” Dominic asks dryly.

Gloria sighs. “If you want it,” xe says. “But it’s mostly for Cali.” And with that xe takes the water cooler and leaves.

The Crabs are long since gone, but xe knows the way Val thinks, so it only takes three tries to figure out which section of the stands xe should go to. All of the Crabs are huddled together in a knot, so close as to be inseparable, but Val looks up sharply as Gloria gets closer. “Where were you?”

“I made friends.” Xe sets the water cooler down. “And I brought drinks, so everyone calm down. I was just busy.”

“What friends?” asks Silvaire. Gloria hands over xyr camera and watches her eyes go wide. “That’s— you met all of them?”

“They were pretty nice,” Gloria says. “I liked Workman Gloom. They have a dog.”

The Crabs pass around the camera. Gloria passes out water bottles and settles in the stands between Brock and Tot, and waits.

The Hall Stars win. Gloria smiles. They’re lucky xe wished them luck.

The Crabs all leave together, and this time Gloria goes with them for a while. Xe and Val and Tot Clark and a couple of other people take turns staying awake while the rest of the Crabs sleep. Xe doesn’t leave until morning rolls around, and even then it’s more out of necessity than anything. Xe has work to do, and xe can’t do it here. Xe works all day through the Crabs’ victory parade, and then halfway through the night, and through most of the next day too.

Xe almost doesn’t make it to Brock and Bertie’s place before the election, partly because it takes a long time, partly because the Baltimore portal spits xem out in the wrong place four separate times. Xe finally gets close enough to their place to figure it out, though, even though xe has to call Pedro to meet xem outside.

By the time xe gets to the door, breathless from jogging through the streets of Baltimore, Pedro’s waiting. He even looks impatient, although that clears up as soon as he sees Gloria. “Are you okay?”

“Baltimore didn’t want me to say goodbye,” Gloria says plaintively. “Or it didn’t want me to interrupt you guys, whatever, but this’ll only take like five minutes.”

Pedro looks… unwell. Tired. Even a little sickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise; xe’s seen the Shoe Thieves. But seeing that same terrible exhaustion transposed onto Pedro’s face feels wrong.

“What’s up?” he says.

Gloria holds out the book. “I got you a goodbye present. And by you I mean everyone, but I mostly mean you.”

Pedro takes the scrapbook and raises his eyebrows. “What’s in it?”

“The stuff that’s normally in scrapbooks,” xe says exasperatedly. “What do you think?”

He flips it open and then stops short. “How did you get these?”

“I’ve got ways,” Gloria answers. Xe smiles, and it only widens as he keeps flipping through the pages.

It’d been a massive effort. Most of it had been during the postseason, Gloria racing through the streets of Baltimore trying to get pictures of everything. Favorite restaurants and bookstores. Street corners. People’s gardens in front of houses. Chesapeake Bay — a lot of pictures of Chesapeake Bay, because Gloria knows the water’s important. Xe’d gone through all of xyr old photos of the Crabs, and press photos, and xe even downloaded social media to get what xe could.

The rest wasn’t xyrs. Winnie Hess had pictures from season one, and Holden Stanton had a mishmash of other seasons. Ollie Notarobot had lists of places that the teams liked to go, places that xe visited one by one. Joshua Watson had a stack of takeout menus for some reason, and so those are tucked in the back, right next to old Tlopps cards. Even PolkaDot Patterson had sent a few things along.

And there are letters for all the Crabs, as a team and as individuals, from everyone who wanted to write one. Letters from Mike Townsend, and from players on the Fridays and Jazz Hands. A lot of letters for Pedro from Valentine. And each of them have one painstakingly handwritten letter from Gloria.

“I don’t know where you’re going,” xe says quietly. “But can you try and take this with you? I think it might be good. Places are important, and Baltimore’s important, and this is Baltimore.”

Pedro shakes his head. When he meets xyr eyes, xe nearly takes a step back. Xe has never seen Pedro cry before, and it feels wrong. Like a law of the universe has been broken.

“Gloria,” he says, and then stops and has to take a big deep breath, the kind that Gloria is all too familiar with. “Thank you.”

Xe swallows. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course,” Pedro says, and he’s completely ready when Gloria slams into him, hugging him hard. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“I didn’t do it for me,” Gloria mumbles into his chest. Xe didn’t do it for Pedro, either, and xe didn’t do it for all the Crabs. Xe just… did it.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve—” he breaks off with a shuddering breath. “Now I feel like an asshole. I was just going to call you.”

“Then you’re lucky I was here to think straight and bring you a present.”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“You gave me the camera.” Xe pauses. “Does that mean you got yourself a present?”

“Absolutely not,” Pedro says adamantly. “You did this. And you get—” he pulls back and frowns, eyebrows furrowed together as he thinks. “What can I give you?”

Gloria fumbles for xyr phone and takes a picture of his face, just because. “I need a new pen,” xe offers. “Mine ran out of ink.”

He frowns. “Do you only have one pen?”

“Why would I need more than one?”

“So you have one when your first one runs out of ink.”

Xe thinks that through. “Fine. Can I have a pen?”

“No,” Pedro says, and then pulls off his jacket. Gloria has to take the scrapbook so he can do it. It’s a thick jacket, the kind of thing that seems too heavy to be practical. But he shucks it off and then drapes it over Gloria’s shoulders. “For you.”

“You’re going to be cold,” Gloria says. Xe holds out the scrapbook. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

“I have more than one jacket,” Pedro says. “Did you want to come inside?”

Gloria shakes xyr head. “I don’t want to be here when it happens,” xe says. “That sounds terrible. But you can tell everyone I say hi. And you can look at the scrapbook together, except the last few pages.”

Pedro smiles. “Alright,” he murmurs, and then drags a hand through his hair. “Alright. Gloria Bugsnax, Boston’s best photographer. Look at you.”

“And Baltimore’s best.” Xe offers xyr best, sharpest smile, and Pedro smiles back. “I’m going to go now, and you can go too. Okay?”

“Okay.” He leans forward and drops a kiss on xyr hair. Gloria wrinkles xyr nose, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Goodbye, Gloria. I love you.”

“I love you too, Pedro,” says Gloria. Xe turns. Xe starts heading towards the stairwell. Xe listens for the sound of the door closing behind xem, and waits until xe’s in the stairwell to sit down on the closest step and bury xyr face in xyr hands and sob.

The Crabs go away.

Xe calls Sutton a few times, and it helps some of the time. Other times it just makes xem miss Pedro, so xe stops calling. Sutton doesn’t ask about it.

Games are weird in season eleven. Gloria doesn’t like it. The Flowers are the wildcard, and they get eliminated. Xe goes to Valentine’s games in the playoffs until she’s eliminated too. She’s the only one left who calls Gloria, once every other week like clockwork.

It’s normal. Everything is normal other than the gaping absence that the Crabs used to fill.

“Do you think they’ll ever come back?” xe asks Margo one day.

Xe grimaces. “You never know with these things.”

“Yeah,” Gloria mutters. “That’s the problem.”

It’s strange to realize how much of xyr routine was oriented around the Crabs. The phone calls. Checking their scores. Visiting them in the offseason, or the Crabs visiting xem in Boston. Xe doesn’t know what to do at first. Using the Flowers to fill the void feels pointless: they’re not the same, and xe won’t treat them like they are.

Xe keeps going to Baltimore, more out of habit than anything. And xe keeps taking pictures. At first it’s for another scrapbook: the Crabs are going to want to see what changed, all the little things day to day. And then Margo asks for pictures of Margaritoville, and then Eizabeth Guerra on the Mints wants nice pictures of her bakery, and suddenly Gloria’s a travelling photographer, visiting other teams.

It’s not something that Glory Ofthegarden would’ve wanted. It’s not even something Gloria-before-the-Crabs would’ve wanted. Xe’s not sure xe wants it now. But it’s something, and it’s xyrs. So xe takes pictures. More and more pictures. Xe fills up scrapbooks. Xe makes bigger collages. Xe keeps going.

At the beginning of the grand siesta, Gloria goes to the Garden.

The Groundskeeper is there, but it doesn’t block them outright the way it normally does. “You are not returning home,” it says. This time it’s not a statement. Gloria thinks it might be a question.

“I’m here to say goodbye,” Gloria says, and the Groundskeeper moves aside.

Xe ends up in a field of black-eyed susans and rainbows of wildflowers. It’s huge, bigger than should be possible. Gloria wishes xe had thought to bring xyr camera. The Garden is many things and most of them are horrible, but the Garden is also lovely. The Garden made good things, after all: these wildflowers, and Cali, and Gloria.

Xe doesn’t try to sneak roots into the field and plant xemself in the grass, or try to run deeper into what’s probably an endless field. Instead xe kneels in the center of the field, feet tucked carefully underneath xemself, and sits in the silence for a few minutes.

“There was a time I hated you,” Gloria says quietly. The Garden does not have a voice to answer. That’s okay. Gloria isn’t trying to have a conversation.

Xe lowers xemself until xe’s lying on xyr back. One of xyr hands trails along a stem of a black-eyed susan. “I mean really hated. Before I understood most things, I knew I hated you. I knew I couldn’t forgive you. I still can’t. And I’m not sorry about that. Maybe I should be, but I think you probably know that by now.

“But I’m better. You took everything from me and I found a new everything. Do you know what that’s like? Do you know how much I’ve—” xe snorts out a laugh. “How much I’ve grown? Now that I don’t have to deal with you?”

A butterfly lands on xyr hand, and xe makes a face. “No, don’t do that. I don’t want symbols or peace offerings or coincidences. I want you to know that I’m happier. I know what happiness is. And sadness and hurting and all the things you wanted, but it didn’t work. Because I’m happy, and that’s bigger than the bad stuff.”

The Garden doesn’t answer. Gloria stays for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of sunlight on skin. There are clouds in the sky, and xe watches them pass. There’s no reason to move.

There’s no reason that xe leaves, either. There’s no signal, nothing to indicate unwelcomeness. It’s just that xe wants to leave, and so xe does. Xe could call Margarito, or Beck. Xe could call Valentine. Xe’ll probably call Pedro. He would want to hear about this.

There’s no reason that Gloria leaves. Xe just gets up and goes. It feels good to walk out of the Garden on xyr own. It feels like starting something new.

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