the last best dream

Summary:

“Do you make your team call you captain?”
When Captain Dogwalker speaks again, their voice is laden with a laugh. Grollis wonders if they were laughing to themself. “I couldn’t get my team to call me captain if I tried,” they say cheerfully. “They call me Qais. You can too. Who am I speaking to, Starship Lift?"
Grollis makes a point of holding down the radio button as ze laughs. “Grollis Zephyr, at your service.”
“Zeph!” Qais exclaims, like they’re long lost best friends or something. “You throw a mean slider.”
(Or: Grollis, Qais, moving on, standing still, and something like love at the end of the world.)

Fandom: Blaseball

Published: 29 October 2022

Word count: 11,992

Ao3 link: the last best dream

Notes

A/N: So I was talking about Grollis needing a new life partner and Hen @waltztangocache said Qais Dogwalker and I went "wow, that's brilliant," and outlined a fic, and then sat on it for a year. This is that fic, dedicated to lofi because they're the best. This interpretation of Engine started with Al Buzzard.

Content warnings: No major content warnings apply, but there's a little bit of swearing, a little bit of blaseball unreality, and a fair amount of thematic discussion of the end of the world.

The debate takes hours, longer than anyone expected. Some of it is easy: nobody is sure if the Legscraper can walk through Immateria, so Engine volunteers to drive. The hard part is picking which direction to drive in.

Grollis spends most of hyr time listening, watching off to one side. Sometimes ze translates for Cudi inside the shell, repeating things that he can’t quite hear. Theo and Domino say the Vault is safest. Coolname says they can’t trust anywhere but least of all the Hall.

Yusef says the Desert, and then gives Grollis this weird little look that isn’t quite apologetic. Grollis doesn’t like dry heat, always feels wrong without water, and Yusef knows that. But Yusef also doesn’t say anything, so Grollis doesn’t reply.

The Horizon, they all decide eventually. Because nobody hates it. Because they distrust it the least. Because the Crabs survived it once and that means it’s survivable. Because there’s nothing else.

Grollis waits until consensus is all but reached and then says carefully, “What about Tokyo?”

Everybody starts, like they forgot the city that they’re in. A couple of them look out windows, down at the city. Most of them look at Grollis. Ze isn’t from Tokyo, but ze’s a denizen of Tokyo all the same, urban sprawl, dirt underneath fingernails, Lazarus Pit an impossibility and mirrored surfaces. And at the end of the day, ze doesn’t want to leave.

Finally, after a pause, Coolname tilts its head. When it speaks, it’s with an air of solving a puzzle that makes Grollis ardently miss Stijn. “We have to play in Tokyo,” it says slowly, “so Tokyo will be wherever we land.”

Grollis doesn’t like it. But there are shadows already encroaching on the sky, the colors of the supernova ahead ever shrinking. And ze doesn’t want to be in this stale meeting anymore. So ze nods, and everyone looks away to draw their conclusions like they haven’t already been drawn.

Ze slips out with only a goodbye to Cudi. Ze has a lot of packing to do.

Engine’s ship is huge — Grollis knows this from seeing it from the outside, but it’s something else for the whole team and their shadows to fit aboard with room to spare.

There was a point in time, not even that long ago, where ze would’ve immediately found Yusef and asked to bunk together. Thon might not have said yes, but thon would’ve thought about it. Ze can hear thons voice right now saying well, Coolname wants to be roommates, but we can be neighbors, how about that, Grol? Sleepovers every night. It’d be great.

But Yusef isn’t going to ask. Yusef wouldn’t have asked. Thon isn’t the kind of person who asks for things like that. It’s part of why they — Grollis hates thinking of it as a breakup, but it might’ve been a breakup. They don’t really talk the way they used to. They don’t look at each other. Grollis can hear thons voice in hyr head but it’s not the same thing as knowing how to make thon laugh, and ze hasn’t been able to do that in a long, long time.

So. Grollis gets first dibs on a bedroom because ze volunteers to help out during the night shift, and ze picks a single in a pretty remote corner. And everything else is just context, just something else going wrong in the background.

Engine spends the first night showing hyr around. “I’ve done my fair share of all-nighters,” she says briskly, moving from room to room with a clarity of purpose that Grollis envies, “but this seems a little more intense than a cargo route. So thanks for helping.”

Grollis hums in response. The tour is a lot of broad motions and “you’ll figure it out later”-s: a mess hall, crew quarters, shadow quarters, captain’s quarters, a brig that she calls Val’s quarters if he ever shows up.

“You can drive,” Engine says, and barely waits for Grollis to nod. “This is a lot like that.”

“Except it’s a spaceship,” Grollis points out, because it needs to be said.

“Space truck,” Engine answers, and this time she does wait for Grollis to nod in agreement before moving on. “The controls are the same. You like driving?”

“Not really.”

“You’ll be doing a lot of staying in one place.”

Grollis lets out a breath in relief. Engine cracks a half-smile. “The hardest part is going to be the radio.”

“The radio?”

“Other people are going to radio you.”

“There are other people out there?”

Engine gives Grollis a strange look. “Other teams.”

“Oh,” ze says. Ze doesn’t know how to explain that for a moment ze was thinking about the breadth and blackness of space and all of its endless potential. It’s a very Yusef-y thought. Ze doesn’t actually like space all that much. Too big, too impossible.

Engine keeps going, although she casts one or two sidelong glances at Grollis as she does. This is how to steer, this is how to work the radio, this is how to call Engine in her quarters if there’s an emergency. If Grollis has a book or a podcast instead of paying full attention to autopilot, these are the alerts that ze absolutely has to pay attention to, and these are the things that ze has to be able to tell Engine about when they swap shifts.

“You’re smart,” Engine says. “You can handle this.”

It’s a lot of quiet nights of solitude, starting very, very soon. Grollis smiles and it almost reaches hyr eyes. “Thanks, Engine.”

“Thanks for making sure I can sleep half the night.” She claps Grollis’s shoulder. “You’ll do just fine.”

Grollis visits Mizuumi-sama in the Lazarus Pit. Grollis calls hyr parents, which really means listening to hyr mother talk for a while. Grollis calls hyr brother, which really means saying goodbye.

The ship takes off, the team gathered in the cockpit as Engine flies up and out of Tokyo. Ze watches the city get smaller and folds hyr arms in front of hyr chest, gripping hyr elbows for dear life.

Tokyo becomes clouds becomes Immateria becomes black. Grollis goes back to hyr single bed and doesn’t bother trying to stop the tears, but ze does try to cry as quietly as ze can manage.

The hardest part on night one is actually staying awake, not that Grollis would say that, because ze likes the idea of the night shift. It’s really an early morning shift: ze goes to bed early and wakes up at something like four in the morning, and then goes to the cockpit. Engine doesn’t say anything, just grunts and heads to the captain’s quarters, and then it’s just hyr piloting a ship into a black hole.

Ze doesn’t have a podcast, or any music, but ze does have a book. It’s an old thing, ze’s not even sure where ze got it, a gritty detective novel that ze’s pretty sure is translated from English. The translator didn’t do a perfect job, but unlike when ze was younger, Grollis has spent enough time around Americans to figure out what this book is trying to say, even when it doesn’t say it right.

So the hardest part is staying awake. But eventually the darkness parts a little, and Engine wanders into the cockpit with a steaming mug of coffee. “Survived?”

“Survived,” says Grollis. “It’s a home game today.”

Engine grunts, downs half her coffee, and then makes a shooing motion. Grollis steps out of the pilot’s chair, and Engine slumps in. “You can adjust the seat, you know.”

“I know,” Grollis says. Ze didn’t know, but that’ll be hyr project for tomorrow.

Ze doesn’t say much as Engine starts steering the ship, with a lot of confidence and grace and no sudden jolts or anything. Grollis tries to watch her hands and understand how she does it, but before long ze has to admit that ze’s enjoying the ride a little too much.

Something beeps, and Engine barely spares it a glance before adjusting course. “Almost there.”

“Almost—“

The end of the sentence dies in Grollis’s throat. Ze would know the way the clouds part above Tokyo from grainy footage, let alone the way the truck swoops through the atmosphere and slices down.

“Galvanic was right,” Engine murmurs. She doesn’t seem shaken by landing in the same place where she took off from. “Looks like we’ll be coming home pretty often.”

Grollis nods. Ze’s afraid that if ze opens hyr mouth ze’ll choke on the bile in hyr throat, rising at the unnature of it all.

“Drink your coffee,” Engine says, not unkindly. “Long day ahead.”

It’s shaping up to be a lot of long days ahead. The hardest part on the second night isn’t staying awake, it’s just waking up on time, and then on the third night when Domino volunteers to take a night shift the hardest part is falling asleep. Grollis doesn’t really bother decorating hyr little bunk room to look like anything, but ze does take the time to unpack a little. It still feels like a hotel room, but at least it’s hyr hotel room.

On the fourth night, Grollis arrives at the cockpit for hyr shift to find Domino, with what looks like a YouTube video about juggling. Ze squints, and Domino shrugs, setting down a couple of loose baseballs. “Gotta find a way to pass the time.”

Grollis nods and holds up the book. “I’ve got a plan.”

“Nice.” Domino claps hyr shoulder as ze squeezes into the cockpit. “Engine’ll be there in the morning.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

And then it’s Grollis, a couple of balls to juggle, and an old book that ze’s just about done with.

Ze settles into the captain’s seat and starts reading. It’s not very comfortable, but it’s easy enough to get engrossed in the story. Ze wants to know what happens next, the whodunnit of it all.

In fact, ze’s so engrossed that ze ends up throwing hyr book across the room when the radio screeches to life and someone says, “Hey, which team is that?”

Grollis stares at the radio. The radio sits in comfortable silence for about forty more seconds, during which time Grollis just about remembers how to breathe. And then the same voice says again, “Oh, sorry, I forgot to say over. Hey, who’s in the spaceship, over?”

Ze blinks and then cautiously picks up the radio. Ze’s pretty sure ze remembers how to work it, so ze presses down a button on the side and says, “You don’t have to say over. It’s the Lift.”

“Lift!” the voice exclaims, about as soon as Grollis lifts hyr finger from the button. Maybe they should be saying over. “Love you guys. Hey, where did you all get the spaceship? It feels like everyone went and got cool spaceships except us.”

For a second, Grollis considers putting the radio back down and ignoring this. But this is more interesting than the swirling star-laden Immateria, and it’s more interesting than the detective novel, too. And besides, there’s something nice about talking to someone who doesn’t know hyr. Hyr teammates have been too busy giving hyr strange looks. Ze likes this. The rhythm of a conversation.

Ze lifts the radio to hyr mouth, swallows hard, and then decides to stop thinking. Ze knows how to talk to people. This is fine. “It actually belongs to one of our batters. It’s a space truck, not a spaceship.”

“Space truck,” the voice repeats. “Gotcha. We’re just on the yacht, you know how it is.”

Yacht. Who has a yacht? “What team are you on?”

The following silence is so long that Grollis has enough time to find hyr book and make sure that none of the pages got creased when ze threw it across the cockpit. At last the voice says, “Right. I forgot you guys weren’t around back when the party yacht was a total legend. This is Captain Dogwalker of the Miami Dale.”

“Do you make your team call you captain?”

Another silence, but this one is shorter. When Captain Dogwalker speaks again, their voice is laden with a laugh. Grollis wonders if they were laughing to themself. If they were laughing alone. “I couldn’t get my team to call me captain if I tried,” they say cheerfully. “They call me Qais. You can too. Who am I speaking to, Starship Lift? Sorry, Startruck Lift.”

Grollis makes a point of holding down the radio button as ze laughs. “Grollis Zephyr, at your service.”

“Zeph!” Qais exclaims, like they’re long lost best friends or something. “You throw a mean slider.”

“Nobody has ever said that about my slider before,” Grollis says dryly. “That’s why I bat now.”

“Yeah, well, I remember it just fine. They got you working the night shift all alone?”

“I volunteered.”

“Me too,” says Qais. Grollis can’t see the shape of the yacht in the immateria, but if ze looks at one of the many screens in the cockpit, there’s a shape in the space-radar that looks like it could be yacht-shaped, more or less directly behind the ship. “My people, we like to party at night, you know? But I don’t do that as much, and someone needs to make sure we’re going in the right direction.”

“There’s not much steering involved,” Grollis says, half hesitant to point it out. Ze hasn’t mentioned it around Engine or Domino yet, because the last thing ze wants is to be taken off the rotation. But this thing is blaseball through and through, league rules and fans powering them more than any actual engine. Grollis is pretty sure that ze could try to whip the truck around and go the opposite direction and it would just continue sliding backwards in whatever direction the fans voted.

Qais, for their part, doesn’t seem concerned. They just say, “I’m monitoring,” breezy as anything.

“How much longer are you going to be up?”

“I get a replacement in four hours.”

Grollis is there for something like six more hours, until Engine wakes up. Ze doesn’t say that. Instead ze says, “How do you pass the time?”

“I’ve been listening to a lot of music.”

“Anything good?”

“Depends what you like.”

“I’m not a music person.”

“Then yeah, it’s the greatest music on the planet,” Qais says. Grollis lets out a laugh, a little surprised and undignified, that bounces through the cockpit. “What about you?”

“I have a book.”

“A good book?”

“A detective book.”

“I love detective books,” Qais says, a little dreamily. “I used to watch Kit Honey cartoons, the good ones, before they tried to reboot it. The dubbed ones, too, where instead of shooting people she banished them to a prison in an extradimensional space. Don’t you guys have that Kit Honey impersonator on your team?”

“I’m not sure she’s an impersonator.” Grollis pauses. “She might not even be sure if she’s an impersonator.”

“Well, she owes me an autograph.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll leave you to your book,” Qais says. “If you want to just hang out and read.”

Grollis would love to just hang out and read. But Grollis is also enjoying this conversation, far more than expected. So instead of worrying, instead of letting hyrself get confused, ze skips past all the anxiety and logic and everything else and says, “Do you want my cell number? So we don’t have to keep pressing down buttons to talk.”

“Are you pressing down a button?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m just talking. I don’t know how the yacht works, I just assumed it’s like a non-evil Blalexa.”

“I have a hand radio, like a truck.”

“Then by all means,” Qais says, and Grollis swears ze can hear the smile in their voice. “Give me your number, Grollis. And I’ll bug you while you’re reading.”

Qais has terrible opinions on detective stories. They have a sense of humor that Grollis completely doesn’t understand, a little too American. But they explain willingly, and ask Grollis about Japanese detective novels, and seem totally delighted when Grollis understands it when they curse in Arabic. That last one is a holdover from Yusef. Ze’s glad that it’s worth something.

“I’ll be working this same shift tomorrow,” they say, when someone is about to come and let them go to sleep. “You?”

“I think I am too.”

“Feel free to call me once you’re settled. Assuming it’s around the same time.”

Grollis swallows around a lump in hyr throat that’s there for, as far as ze can tell, no reason at all. “Yeah. I probably will.”

“Good,” Qais says warmly. Grollis likes calling them better than ze liked the radio. Their voice is clearer. Ze can understand it better. “Talk to you tomorrow, Grollis.”

“You too, Qais.”

Unlike Qais, Grollis doesn’t go to sleep after hyr shift. Instead ze stays around with Engine, eats breakfast, gets ready to land in Tokyo, chats a little with Domino and Theo, checks in on Cudi. It’s a standard morning, but everything feels a little more magical. A little more bearable

A matter of minutes before the Lift’s next game starts, Grollis gets three texts. The first is an incredibly messy looking schedule, full of pen marks in clashing bright colors. When Grollis squints, ze can see Qais’s name in bright pink next to a handful of overnight shifts for the next week. The second text is a streaming link to a hyperpop album, because Qais had been aghast that ze didn’t know any hyperpop. And the third is a smiley face.

Grollis sends back a smiley face, slides on hyr headphones, and presses play. It’s not hyr normal pregame music, but it’s a fun change of pace.

As with anything, there’s a rhythm to it, even though it takes a while. The truck lands in Tokyo, Chicago, Atlantis, Breckenridge. They play a game, and then Grollis goes to bed as early as ze can. About two nights out of every three, ze goes to the cockpit in the wee hours of the morning. And a little over half the time, the first thing ze does is call Qais.

They always have something to say. A lot of the time they don’t even bother saying no, they just jump right in. “Grollis, if you could add a blaseball team to any city as an excuse to travel there, what city would you pick?” Seoul, because ze has good memories there. “Grollis, how’s your guy in the shell?” Fine, other than the shell. “Grollis, can you read me a book?” Always. Ze starts stopping in bookstores in whatever city they’re in, getting random cheap paperbacks. Qais heckles the books most nights. Some nights, they sit and listen quietly, and Grollis keeps reading.

And, oddly enough, sometimes Grollis has something. Sometimes, they call and say, “Qais, what was it like when reverb was first introduced?” Loud as hell, mostly. “Qais, what music did you listen to when you were growing up?” A lot of hip-hop, all of which they send hyr. “Qais, do your teammates ever visit you while you’re driving?”

“Sometimes,” Qais says to that one, and that’s how Grollis starts meeting the Dale. Jode doesn’t say much, but she likes to heckle the books alongside Qais. Rigby has the best stories. Jomgy is always ready to talk, especially on nights where neither Grollis nor Qais are.

The Lift don’t really visit Grollis while ze’s on shift. But ze doesn’t really visit them either, so that’s fine. Ze’s a little solitary. Qais is an exception. Certainly not the rule.

Landing in the Hellmouth is the worst of it. Not because it’s the Hellmouth, but because it’s scattered. Grollis stands in the cockpit and watches the descent into something that looks too grey and misty to be familiar.

Spending time around the Sunbeams is just as unsettling. Grollis doesn’t understand how they’re in the Solarium but also in the Desert, and the blankness of their eyes never stops being… creepy.

That night ze settles into the cockpit. Qais is calling almost before ze reaches for hyr phone, and when ze answers they say brightly, “Grollis, what was your favorite dessert when you were a kid?”

Grollis opens hyr mouth, but nothing comes out. Ze can’t remember any dessert. Ze can only think about the flatness in Eugenia Bickle’s eyes. The way that the Hellmouth felt dead beneath hyr feet.

“Grollis?” Qais says.

Ze doesn’t mean to say anything. Ze really doesn’t. Ze wants to answer the question. Instead ze says all in a rush, “What’s going to happen to us?”

“In the Horizon?”

“We’re in the Horizon,” Grollis says. It’s true: they both are now, drifting away sometimes, but more or less parked at the edge of a black hole. Sometimes ze thinks ze can feel it pulling at hyr feet. Other times ze tries to tell hyrself that’s impossible.

“Grollis,” Qais says gently. “What happened?”

Plants that didn’t bite at hyr ankles. People Grollis has gone out for drinks with, looking at hyr like they’ve never seen another person before. Looking at one another like they’ve never seen another person before, even the ones who knew each other for fifty years. Hands grabbing clumsily at bats like a baby trying to grab a toy.

It would be easy to say that it’s the Sunbeams. Qais would understand. Qais has seen so many impossible things because of blaseball, what’s one more?

But instead, Grollis’s brain skips past the logic, past the thing that makes sense to say, and instead ze says, “Did I ever tell you I used to be an actor?”

“No,” Qais answers. There’s a distinctly wary note to it, but they won’t push. Ze knows they won’t. “When?”

“When I was a kid.”

“Really?”

“My parents were tokusatsu actors. Science fiction with loads of practical effects.” Hyr mother was a cult celebrity when Grollis was born, not that Qais needs to know that. “And so when I was born, and then my brother, we became a part of the franchise. We were superhero actors.”

“How old were you?”

“Young.” Seven or eight years old, maybe. “Too young to be famous.”

“Were you famous?”

“Oh, yes. We had a TV show.”

“Was it good?”

“I never watched it. My parents said it was bad luck to watch your own performances, unless it was at a movie premiere.”

“Did you like it?” Qais asks, which is the most frustratingly Qais question of all time.

“I was seven,” Grollis says, and then, “Not really. But it’s what I did for years.”

“How long?”

“Until I was fifteen or sixteen, and I told my parents I wanted to go to fashion school.”

“Did you?”

“I dropped out.”

“Are you fashionable?”

“Fashion is objective.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you could see my outfits.”

“Try me.”

Grollis’s phone vibrates after half a second. Ze opens it to a picture of Qais, posing with a street sign that ze can’t quite read. They’re wearing a bright orange hoodie, cropped so that it’s really just sleeves, over a camo denim jacket and the most ripped up electric green tank top Grollis has ever seen. Their pants look like they’re made out of reflective gold material that makes hyr skin crawl, because it must be terrible to touch.

They have pink dreadlocks, longer than ze has ever seen, piled on top of their head, and warm brown skin lit up gold by the streetlights. They’re laughing as they’re posing, the closest ze has ever seen to a smile literally stretching from ear to ear.

Grollis swallows. “I’ve seen worse,” ze says. Hyr voice comes out shakier than intended.

“I’ve worn worse,” Qais answers in a heartbeat. “I don’t plan outfits. I just wear things.”

Grollis flips through hyr pictures and sends off the first outfit picture that’s decent — it’s a little old, but the floor-length patchwork coat is one of hyr favorite things ze’s ever made, and that makes it a picture worth sharing even if it’s not a great picture. Ze doesn’t like pictures of hyrself. Never has.

“Oh, what the hell,” Qais says immediately. “You look like a model. Tell me you didn’t make that coat.”

“I made the coat.”

They groan exaggeratedly. “You’re killing me, you know that? You’re not supposed to have taste.”

“And why’s that?”

“C’mon,” Qais says, a little softer, and Grollis — Grollis doesn’t know what that means, but hyr stomach lurches anyways.

“I have excellent taste,” Grollis says, aiming to be lofty even through the swirling anxiety. “Just because you can’t appreciate Higashino-sama’s books—”

“Oh, not the books again—”

“—doesn’t mean that you don’t have taste. The pants in that photo do, though.”

“I love those pants!”

“You’re proving my point.”

“I know,” Qais sighs. “I don’t care if they’re ugly. They’re mine. You know something?”

“What?”

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you out of uniform.”

It’s probably true. Grollis doesn’t like Dale parties, because they’re always a little overwhelming. Even the sensory-friendly ones that don’t make hyr feel like ze’s melting into dust tend to be too intense and intimate for hyr. Ze comes after games and leaves as immediately as ze can.

Yusef stays at parties. Yusef has DJ’ed sets at Dale parties before.

“We’ll have to fix that,” Grollis says. At least, ze tries to. Hyr voice comes out far too shaky, and ze mumbles in Japanese, “Damn it. Come on.”

“Grollis,” Qais says quietly.

Ze drags a hand down hyr face. “I don’t want to talk about it,” ze says slowly. “But just so you know, the Sunbeams being scattered is terrifying. And also, just so you know, I got out of kind of a long queerplatonic relationship recently, and every now and again things are… hard. If they remind me of that.”

“Understood,” Qais says. Grollis doesn’t doubt for a second that they do. “Steer the conversation wherever you’d like, Captain Zephyr. I’ll send you more of my wardrobe.”

“I don’t know if I’ll survive that.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine.”

Grollis lets out a laugh. “Yeah, probably. Hit me with your worst shot. We’ll make a fashion icon out of you yet.”

It’s not even a week later before Qais calls one night and says quietly, “You weren’t kidding about the scattered teams.”

Grollis swallows. The Sunbeams are, by and large, strangers to Grollis. Ze’s not sure which team Qais was playing against, but whoever they were, they were almost definitely Qais’s friends. “It’s hard.”

“Can you—” Qais cuts off for a second. Grollis waits, and it’s a long minute before they say, “Can you read me something? Or just… talk?”

Ze doesn’t have a book today, but that’s okay. There are things ze can talk about. “Have you ever gone urban exploring?”

“Never. What, are you an expert?”

“Something like that.”

“Full of surprises,” Qais says. Grollis has to turn away from hyr phone, in case they can somehow tell ze’s blushing at the admiration in their voice. “Tell me everything.”

So ze does. About the friends ze met at the stint in fashion school who loved to go exploring. About how that’s part of why ze moved from Okinawa to Tokyo. About how to get gear, and then for a while about all the gear that ze’s accumulated.

Not about the Lazarus Pit, not yet.

Ze doesn’t know how long ze talks. Ze barely notices when another voice says, “Grollis?”

“Isaac,” ze says, mostly a guess. “Hey.”

“Qais is asleep.” He lets out a breath. “I was starting to think they’d never sleep.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Yeah,” Isaac says, and that’s the end of that. “Thanks, though. For looking out for them.”

“It’s my honor,” Grollis says. Ze means it as a joke, but it doesn’t come out like one. Probably because it’s the truth, really.

It starts over breakfast, a team affair with people traipsing in and out of the mess hall the day of a game against the Jazz Hands.

“Where are we playing next?” asks Yusef. “Somewhere warm?”

Coolname grunts. “Home series. Against the Dale, I think.”

“Oh, fun,” says Engine, and looks directly at Grollis. “Why do they all know you?”

Grollis stares. “Why do who all know me?”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Domino chimes in. “Sometimes on night shifts, the Dale will radio, and they always ask about you.”

“Always,” Grollis repeats skeptically. “All of them?”

“You’re dodging the question, kid,” Engine says. “Since when are you so tight with Miami?”

It’s not an interrogation, but Grollis shrinks a little anyways. Everyone’s looking at hyr. Yusef’s looking at hyr.

And Qais is going to land in Tokyo tomorrow.

“They’re good to talk to,” ze says at last. “During late nights. More fun than any of the other teams down here.” It’s half true at most; Qais has invited former teammates into radio conversations before, Wings and Crabs and Worms that they cheerfully say they haven’t played with in decades. But it’s not that the Dale are more fun. It’s that Qais is the best friend Grollis has right now.

“They’re good to party with,” says Domino musingly. “Do you think we could throw a big party in Tokyo?”

“Not on my ship,” Engine says peacefully. “But out in the city, sure.”

Theo says the name of some club, and Coolname grimaces, and the conversation moves on. Grollis slips hyr phone out of hyr pocket and texts Qais: did you know you’re here next series?

Qais doesn’t reply until later, but when they do it’s with a string of exclamation points and emojis. Grollis can’t help but beam.

The Dale yacht arrives in Tokyo six minutes before the game is supposed to start, and they explode into motion, pouring into the Legscraper with a cacophony of noise and motion. Most of them shout hellos and greetings to the Lift and then rush to the away team dugout to get ready.

Qais doesn’t. Qais makes a beeline directly for Grollis. Ze knows, because ze’s also rushing towards them, arms open wide.

“Zeph,” Qais says, low and bright and pleased, and then Grollis is being folded into one of the tightest, best hugs of hyr life. Qais smells like something floral and sweet, and Grollis finds hyrself pressing hyr face into their neck as closely as ze can. It’s strange to realize that ze’s a good couple inches taller than Qais is, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s still… normal.

“Hi,” ze finally remembers to say, and Qais’s answering laugh gusts into hyr hair. “Wow.”

Grollis knows who Qais Dogwalker is. It would be impossible not to know who Qais Dogwalker is. It’s hard to remember a time before they were just Qais, but ze’s pretty sure ze met them a couple times before they actually knew one another. They seemed larger than life. They were famous, they were an idol, they were a big deal. There were news stories about them getting reverbed to the lineup. They’re a fan favorite. They weren’t nervous in interviews.

One of their thumbs is pressing in between Grollis’s shoulder blades. Their mouth is close to the back of Grollis’s neck, and ze can feel it when they say, “Wow.” Grollis’s arms tighten around their waist, around Qais Dogwalker’s waist, except it doesn’t feel like Captain Qais Dogwalker. It’s just Qais.

“We have to play a game eventually,” Grollis says at last, and Qais groans loudly. “But after—”

“I have my outfit all picked out,” Qais answers cheerfully, and now it’s Grollis’s turn to groan. They pull back and Grollis lets them go reluctantly, but they only pull back enough to look hyr in the eye. Qais’s eyes are the closest thing to sparkling that Grollis has ever seen in real life, dark and inviting and joyful.

“It’s really good to see you,” Grollis says. It feels like the most trite understatement in the world, but Qais’s eyes crinkle in delight, and Grollis can feel hyrself smiling in response. “Like, really good.”

“You too,” Qais says. Their answering smile isn’t that same giant ear-to-ear smile from the photos, but it’s not smaller, exactly. It’s careful, gigantic and private, completely full of warmth.

“Grollis,” someone shouts, and ze’s expecting it to be someone on the Lift but instead it’s Jomgy and Rigby, waving excitedly. Jomgy cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Hi!”

Grollis can’t help but laugh. “Hi,” ze yells back. Qais laughs and then drops their head to thud gently against Grollis’s collarbone, and ze can’t help but laugh. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good to see you at not four in the morning,” Rigby calls back. “Can we have our captain?”

“No,” Qais mumbles against Grollis’s chest, but they straighten with a sigh and turn back to the away team dugout. “Can’t I have a nice moment?”

“We have a whole series for you to have nice moments.”

“We’ll talk after,” Grollis says, and Qais gives them a nod, still smiling that luminous smile, and heads back.

“I feel like I missed something,” says Terrell, standing somewhere behind Grollis. Ze braces hyrself and turns, and sure enough, the Lift are all… gawking feels like too strong of a word, but it’s definitely more than an average stare. “But Dogwalker’s a good kid.”

“We talk a lot during night shifts,” says Grollis. And then, because that feels painfully inadequate, “It’s great. Spending time with them.”

“I told you the Dale ask about you,” Domino says, sounding just a little smug. “A whole series for nice moments, huh?”

“Domino,” Theo sighs. “Let hyr be.”

“Does this mean you’ll be going to parties?”

Grollis pauses. For Qais? Ze probably would. “We’ll see,” ze answers. “We haven’t talked about it.”

Which, now that Grollis thinks about it, is a little unusual. Ze’s a planner. Ze has ideas, certainly, but not… plans. Judging by the way everyone’s stares elevate into full-blown gawks, they can tell it’s unusual.

“Can we please just play the game,” Grollis says, approaching on desperation. Luckily it works, because everyone starts wandering back to the dugout. Yusef and Coolname and Engine are all giving hyr strange looks, so ze turns around to avoid them.

And stops, because across the field, Qais is looking back. The Dale are all watching.

Grollis waves. Qais waves back. So do Isaac, Jomgy, Rigby, Richmond, Rush, Sixpack, and Fran. But the most important part is that Qais does.

The Dale yacht is predictably loud and overwhelming and bright and huge. Grollis has been on board for all of five minutes before Fran gently takes hyr elbow and leads hyr to Qais, who’s in the middle of an animated conversation with Theo and Domino. Judging by the hand gestures, it’s something involving engineering.

“Found hyr,” Fran says, and Qais turns, beaming. “See you around, boss.”

Qais waves her off and gestures to Grollis. As soon as ze’s close enough they loop an arm around hyr waist, and ze leans into it easily. The Lift are a lot of things, but they’re not physically touchy, and it’s been a long time since Grollis has had someone to hold onto hyr like this.

“You didn’t tell us Qais had a mech,” Domino says to Grollis, bordering on accusing.

Grollis shrugs. Qais has talked about the Dogstar on plenty of late nights. Grollis doesn’t really understand what goes into it, but ze knows that it’s incredibly cool. “You know now.”

“We’re talking shop,” Qais says. There’s a question lingering in there, soft and implicit.

Grollis waves a hand. “By all means, keep going.”

Qais’s smile widens, and they turn back to Theo and Domino, describing something that goes over Grollis’s head immediately. They keep gesturing, their hand around Grollis’s waist occasionally twitching like it’s trying to complete a motion. But they don’t move their arm. They barely move at all.

Grollis listens as intently as ze can. Just because ze doesn’t get it doesn’t mean ze doesn’t want to hear.

“Not that I don’t trust you,” Qais says. “But is this… safe?”

“Completely safe,” Grollis says, and opts not to add that it’s mostly safe because of blaseball-related invulnerability. “I don’t do this before every game, but I do it before a lot of them. More often recently.”

“Urban exploration?”

“Yeah. But this specifically.”

Ze offers Qais a hand, and they step around a couple stalagmites. Grollis can already see the gentle, eerie glow shining around all the rocks. Qais doesn’t seem to have noticed yet, which is fine. This is best experienced as a surprise.

They duck through a small opening, and then they’re at the mouth of the pit. “Here it is,” Grollis says, and turns to see Qais’s face.

“What the fuck,” they breathe, totally astonished. Which is probably a justified reaction to the Lazarus Pit. It doesn’t seem like it should belong in Tokyo, let alone underneath a massive sports complex. But here they are, barely a short climb down, looking at a greenish pool of perfectly still water, radiating with light.

Ze gives Qais’s hand a slight tug and starts picking hyr way down towards the edge of the pool. “This is actually how I joined the team,” ze admits. “This place was an urban legend on the forums that nobody thought was real. Did you know that there’s a cavern underneath Tokyo that moves around the city? That kind of thing. It was impossible.”

“But you found it.”

“But I found it. I found the manhole and I didn’t think about the consequences, even though it was dangerous. I just wanted to see if the stories were true. If there was actually something down here.”

Ze stops short at the edge of the pool and bows once, as deeply as ze can. Qais stops next to hyr and does the same, then looks at Grollis. “You’re connected to this place.”

“I am.” Slowly, ze gets down on hyr knees at the edge of the water, still a healthy distance away. Qais follows suit, still watching hyr. “That first time, I found the cave and did exactly this, and then I paid my respects and left. And after that it was like the place was following me. I would go across town and find the mysterious entrances everywhere. It turned out that the kami of the Pit liked me, and she wanted me to be an attendant. Sort of like a steward.”

“You said yes.”

“And that was how I learned this place is connected to the Legscraper.”

“Which is why it’s still so real,” Qais says softly.

Grollis stifles a grimace. It’s not that Tokyo isn’t real anymore. All the cities they go to are still real. But it’s not… it’s not right. It feels like there are fewer people every time they land. They can’t travel as far. Menus in cafes aren’t as detailed as they used to be. There might be a real Tokyo, but Grollis isn’t sure that it’s where they land every time there’s a game.

Except for the Legscraper. Everything about the Legscraper is perfectly real. And, luckily, that means so is the Lazarus Pit.

Ze swallows. “Mizuumi-sama likes the Lift,” ze says softly. “Ze put in a good word for me with the Legscraper, and that’s how I met everyone. I used to be a much better attendant. I took good care of this place. Stood at the edge of the water and looked out, and made sure everything was clean.”

“What made you go in the water?”

Grollis looks at Qais in surprise. They lift a hand, hovering questioningly just above Grollis’s face. Ze nods, and they rest their hand on hyr cheek, thumb planted just below one of hyr eyes. “You’re glowing,” they say quietly. “I wasn’t sure you knew.”

Ze turns away slowly, and Qais drops their hand onto Grollis’s knee. Ze feels a prickling rush of embarrassment. “I used to come here with teammates a lot,” ze mutters. “Not so much anymore. I haven’t been with another person in a long time. I didn’t have anyone to tell me I’m glowing.”

“Just your eyes.” Qais squeezes hyr knee. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Grollis shakes hyr head, thoughts swirling. “It was… it was a lot of things.”

“Like?”

“Gerund died. I had been fighting with Yusef. I noticed that my parents and my brother had been aging — I don’t know why it took me so long to realize. It was slower than the average person, but still aging. Still faster than me.”

“Yeah,” Qais says, voice heavy. “That’ll happen.”

Ze reaches a hand to the surface of the water and lets it hover, palm flat, without quite touching. “And I realized one day… I realized that everything changes. Everything changes and I’d been coming to this pit for decades because I wanted it to stay the same. But that day all I could think was that I wanted to be the kind of person who did something different. I wanted to be the person who went into the water.”

“So you did.”

“So I did.” Hyr fingers curl into the water. The glow of the water moves, swirls rushing inward and streaming, until there’s a much stronger light emanating from where Grollis’s hand is dipping just below the surface. “It didn’t hurt me. And it doesn’t hurt now.”

“What did it do?”

“Lazarus Pits are supposed to restore your health. The strongest ones can bring people back from the dead.” Grollis lifts hyr hand, and the glow slowly spreads back out to the rest of the water. Ze holds hyr hand above the surface, letting the water drip back in. “I think for me, it just… allowed me to realize that I had been sad. That I wasn’t happy with my life, or my relationships.”

“Yusef,” Qais says.

Grollis nods, an ache in hyr throat. “I love him,” ze says quietly, “but it wasn’t good for either of us, pretending we were the same as we were thirty years ago. He needed to change, and I needed something constant. It wasn’t a very good breakup. We’re still working our way back up to being friends.”

“I’m proud of you,” Qais says. Grollis turns sharply, brows furrowed, but Qais just smiles and squeezes hyr knee again. “For figuring it out. Even if you had to go into a mysterious pit to do it.”

The tears take Grollis by surprise. Ze doesn’t normally cry over small things — but then again, this isn’t small. This is one of the biggest feelings that ze has ever felt. Here’s Qais Dogwalker, wearing the most horrific bright blue high-top sneakers that ze has ever seen, kneeling at the edge of the Lazarus Pit, smiling at hyr.

Carefully, still holding hyr wet hand over the surface of the pit so ze doesn’t get any water on Qais, ze leans in. Qais understands immediately, shifting to face hyr and get a better angle for the hug. One of their hands sinks into the short tufts of Grollis’s hair, and it feels incredible, and that makes hyr want to cry even more so ze does, even though ze doesn’t understand.

“Also, this place is cool as hell,” Qais says. “It reminds me of you.”

“Because we both glow?”

“Sure, Zeph,” Qais says, and Grollis knows they don’t mean it. Ze’s almost afraid to ask what they do mean, but that’s okay. That can wait for another day. “Because you both glow.”

Qais stays on the truck for the second night, because everybody refuses to switch shifts with Grollis. Instead of going home, Qais plops into the copilot seat and commandeers the radio. They’re delighted by having to actually press down the button to radio, and so they spend the whole night calling every other ship they can think of. Grollis talks to Avila, and Farrell, and Summers, and they all have people to introduce too.

Engine shows up and says “Go get some sleep,” and so Grollis drags Qais to their single room, and they look around with complete awe at the closet, the sparse decorations, at Grollis sitting on hyr bed.

The night is a blur, and ze already knows that the day will become one too. But this is clear: Grollis lying in bed and Qais lying alongside them, offering to lie head-to-toe so they have a little more room and Grollis says no. Because ze wants to look at Qais’s face a little while longer.

And this, too, is clear: after the game, when they can’t wait any longer to fly away from Tokyo, Qais finds Grollis and holds them a little while longer. Neither of them say anything, just stand for a while, wrapped up together.

This is the moment that Grollis realizes with perfect clarity that ze means just as much to Qais as they do to hyr. It makes hyr hold on all the tighter.

There are nights — comparatively rare, and getting rarer all the time — where Grollis works the night shift without Qais there. Most of the time ze actually reads books. Every now and again, if ze wants someone to talk to, ze’ll radio the Crabs and Worms, because there’s always someone there willing to talk.

Ze shouldn’t be surprised that after the series with the Dale, the Lift are taking an interest in the night shift. Ze really, really shouldn’t be surprised when there’s a knock on the door and ze knows it’s Yusef. It’s funny, the things you remember, all the way down to how people knock on doors.

“Come back with a pillow,” ze calls through the closed door. “The copilot chair is stuck tilted back at a weird angle, you’re going to need something.”

“Got it,” Yusef says, and footsteps trail away. Grollis closes hyr book, curls into a more comfortable position, and waits.

The second time, Yusef doesn’t knock, just opens the door. Vae has a pillow tucked under one arm and a thermos of tea, which vae holds out to Grollis. “Coolname made it, not me.”

“Oh, so it tastes good,” Grollis murmurs, and takes the thermos. “Thanks.”

Ze waits for Yusef to get settled and drinks some tea, earthy and peppermint, and watches. Finally, Yusef sits in the copilot chair and looks at hyr. “What do you do in here anyways?”

Grollis considers dodging the question for a second, but there’s really no point in it. Yusef was at the party; Yusef has been to the Lazarus Pit; Yusef was at every single game. “Most nights I call Qais,” ze answers. “And other nights I bring a book.”

“How did…” Vae makes a vague hand gesture. “You two seem close.”

“We are. They work the night shift a lot too. They’re good company.”

Yusef doesn’t say anything for a while. Grollis takes the opportunity to drink some more tea and look at vaer. It’s strange how different vae looks, and how completely the same vae is. Maybe it’s the details. Maybe Grollis is different, which is strange to consider.

“Yus,” Grollis says after a moment. Vae glances over. “Are we friends?”

“Are we friends,” Yusef repeats. “I don’t know. Are we?”

“I don’t think we have been.”

“So much for a friendly split,” Yusef mumbles.

It hurts to hear, but not as much as Grollis would’ve expected. Mostly, ze realizes, it makes hyr sad. There was a long, long time where ze thought ze’d spend the rest of hyr life with Yusef in some way or another. Two aromantic people who found the truest loves of their lives together.

Then, blaseball. Then, Grollis always being second best to Gerund. Then, Yusef spending an offseason elsewhere. Then, Stijn dying. Then, Gerund dying. Then, Yusef trying to be everything. Then, Grollis not knowing what to try.

“I’m sorry,” Grollis says finally. Yusef turns away, but Grollis knows better than to take it personally. “That the end was hard. That we weren’t right for each other.”

“We were right for a long time. And then we weren’t. I’m sorry I wasn’t good for you, either.”

“Do you want to be friends?”

“Yeah,” Yusef says, like that’s easy to say. Maybe it really is easy for vaer. “If we can figure it out.”

Grollis nods, mulling it over. There was a time when ze wouldn’t have wanted to be friends. Ze would’ve wanted everything or nothing, and so at the end ze chose nothing. Ze doesn’t think this is the first conversation they’ve had since they split up, but it’s probably in the single-digits.

“Do you?” Yusef says. When Grollis glances over, vae’s already looking back. “Want to be friends. You didn’t say.”

“Oh,” Grollis says. “I think so. I don’t know how. I don’t feel like we were ever really friends, we just…”

“...we were us,” Yusef finishes. “Yeah. Do you want to figure it out?”

“I think so.”

There’s something about the rhythm that makes Grollis want to reach out and grab Yusef’s hand. But ze doesn’t. That’s not them, not right now. And if it is, ze wants it to be a choice, not a product of the rhythm.

“Are you keeping me company all night?” ze asks.”

Yusef shrugs. “Maybe. I’ll see how late I can make it.”

“It’s not very interesting.”

“You have a way of making things interesting.”

As if on cue, the radio sputters to life. “Paging Lift truck,” says Ji-Eun Loubert. “Who’s on tonight? I could use some company.”

Grollis picks up the radio. “Hey there, Ji-Eun. You got me and Yusef Fenestrate.”

“A new voice!” Ji-Eun crows in excitement. “Good to have you. I’m bored out of my mind. Let’s chat.”

Yusef leans over, and Grollis presses the radio button. “Good to talk to you, Ji-Eun.”

“You too, my friend,” says Ji-Eun. Grollis can’t help but smile. “You too.”\

It’s funny that with the world ending, all of the other problems have a way of becoming smaller. Take, for example, other weather: the Lift got hit with a reverb at one point, but other than being annoying, that wasn’t a particularly big difference between life before and after reverb.

Things are changing, becoming less clear. There are no nights out on the town anymore. Teams park next to stadiums and stay there, because they’re barely landing in Tokyo anymore. They’re landing at the Legscraper, at the Bucket, at the Amphitheater. Not in cities. There aren’t really cities.

Grollis still calls Qais every night. The conversations aren’t strained, but there’s an elephant in the room. The Boss is going to die. It’s inevitable. Parts of stadiums are vanishing. They’ve been waiting at the edge of the Horizon for a month and something is going to happen.

The thing that happens, oddly enough, isn’t the Horizon swallowing anyone whole. It starts with blackness crowding the Amphitheater. Grollis hates playing in night weather because there’s so much squinting involved. It’s hard to see anything. Ze has to rely on instincts to know when to swing, and ze really hates that, because the instincts tend to be some kind of… blaseball magic. Not actual instincts.

It’s a normal game. A quiet game. There’s a night shift on the Tigers that Grollis can barely see, and ze doesn’t know the person who’s taken by the darkness. Ze hits a single and bats in Engine, ze thinks. It’s hard to see the scoreboard, the pitcher, the dugout.

So ze’s not really sure how ze knows when Kit disappears into the darkness. There’s no reason for hyr to know. It just feels… heavy, all of a sudden.

Grollis gets to hyr feet. Yusef looks at hyr. “Groll?”

Before ze can answer, the announcement booms through the stadium. “Deep darkness takes Kit Honey,” says the voice, and Grollis starts inching towards the field. “Val Hitherto clocks in.”

“Val?” Grollis calls. It’s a silly instinct, but it’s hard to see. The last time Grollis saw Val was a couple years ago, during the same offseason where ze broke up with Yusef. It was at his wedding to Nerd Pacheco. Grollis mostly remembers drinking champagne and thinking about how it must’ve been a cold day in hell: Val Hitherto married, and hyr sitting there without Yusef.

Val doesn’t respond, at least not with words. But Grollis thinks ze can hear breathing. It doesn’t sound good. In fact, it sounds pretty shaky. Grollis remembers coming out of the shadows with a voicemail, and it was strange, but it wasn’t painful. It doesn’t sound like… this.

“Val,” Grollis says again, and this time when ze takes a step forward hyr boot hits him. Ze immediately drops to hyr knees and shuffles forward, and the darkness parts enough that ze can make out the shape of him huddled on the ground, then his face. “Val, what happened?”

“What—” Val’s throat works furiously. His eyes dart around, and then land on Grollis. “Where are we?”

“Hades.”

“How?”

“Night shift.”

Val spits out a curse in a language Grollis doesn’t recognize. He’s shaking furiously. One of his hands is flexing like he’s trying to hold onto something. The other is braced in the dirt, barely holding him upright.

Slowly, Grollis reaches a hand out and grabs his shoulder. He looks at hyr, and this time for the first time it feels like he sees hyr.

“Val,” Grollis repeats, slow and intentional. “What happened?”

“The Pies are gone,” Val rasps out.

Grollis’s blood runs cold. Ze knew that Val was traveling with the Pies for Nerd’s sake, but ze didn’t think— ze had never thought, not even after the Breath Mints and the Fridays— ze swallows. “The supernova?”

“No,” Val says. “No, they’re not dead, they’re gone. The black hole.”

Grollis stares, uncomprehending, and then it slots into place. Things have been nullified left and right, and, and. “Oh, god,” ze says, and Val is staring at hyr with wide eyes like ze’s willing hyr to understand. “Oh, god, Val—”

“They’re gone,” Val repeats, voice cracking clean in half. “All of them, Grollis, they’re—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish. Grollis doesn’t know why ze wraps him in hyr arms, but ze doesn’t hesitate. His hand is still flexing, a grip on nothing at all, and Grollis holds him all the tighter. An ump will break them up when it’s time.

So the end of the world starts with people disappearing into the black hole, technically. But what it starts with for Grollis is the way Val sobs without crying, horrible gasps into hyr shoulder. It starts with the two of them on the ground of the Amphitheater, and Grollis finally thinking to wonder if ze’ll ever return to Tokyo again.

They end up pulling an extra cot into Grollis’s room, because Engine can’t make any jokes about throwing Val into the brig after seeing the state of him, much less actually do it. Val won’t say anything about what actually happened, and Grollis is silently relieved about it. Ze doesn’t want to know.

“Grollis,” Val says, sitting cross-legged on the cot, “I have a big favor to ask.”

“I’m not going to throw you in the black hole,” Grollis says. Probably not a funny joke. Made even less funny by the fact that ze’s actually been considering what ze would do if Val asked hyr to do that. And that ze’s been trying to figure out a good hiding place for all of his time travel devices, so he doesn’t scramble his atoms throughout the timestream trying to undo a tragedy.

Val shakes his head. “Give me something else to think about.” He twists his wedding band in a circle around his finger. “Anything at all.”

Grollis sits down on the bed next to him. “Anything?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I haven’t had much going on. I work the night shift on the ship, I don’t see a lot of people.”

Val gives hyr a curious look. “Night shift?”

“Someone needs to monitor things overnight. That’s me.”

“Divorce is a bad look on you,” Val mutters.

“That’s rude,” Grollis says without reproach. “And besides, I—”

The sentence dies in hyr throat. Ze knows exactly what ze was going to say, and the thought of actually saying it is… is…

Val, though, for all that Grollis loves him, is a total bastard. And he needs a distraction, so he pounces. “You?”

“I met someone,” Grollis says quietly. “And I might be in love with them?”

Val rocks back. Ze has his full attention, at least. “Grollis.”

“Yes, Val.”

“I can’t help but notice that you’re aromantic.”

“As far as I know.”

“And that you just described yourself as being in love.”

“I’m not sure it’s romantic,” Grollis says, which sounds ridiculous. Val arches an eyebrow, and ze groans. “I don’t know. It’s not like it was with Yusef.”

“Thank god,” Val mutters.

“Shut the hell up,” ze says amiably. “It’s the kind of thing that I don’t know if we have words for. Maybe it’s romantic. Maybe it’s a new type of queerplatonic. Maybe it’s something else. Do I need to know?”

“No,” Val allows. “But you should probably make sure whoever it is ends up on the same page as you. Do they know?”

“Not yet.”

“Will you tell them?”

Grollis opens hyr mouth and then shakes hyr head, grimacing. “I don’t know how.”

“Who is it?”

“Qais Dogwalker.”

Val goes quiet, doing some kind of mental math. At last he says, “I haven’t been keeping terrific track of where all the teams are, but I believe the Dale are here at the edge with us.”

“They are.”

“And that’s why you won’t tell them?”

“It’s part of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

Grollis groans and buries hyr face in hyr hands. “How do I say anything?” ze says into the heels of hyr hands. “How can I — how do I explain that I’ve never done this before? That I’ve never felt anything like this? That the world is ending and all I can think about is that I might not see them aga—”

Ze cuts off and peeks at Val, who gives hyr an unimpressed look. “This isn’t the distraction you hoped it would be.”

“Not entirely, no.”

Val shakes his head and seems to slump all at once, like someone cut the strings that were holding him up. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he murmurs dreamily. “Realizing that I meant it this time. I’d been in love before, real love, and I’d tricked myself into thinking it was real. But with Nerd, I was terrified, because it was… real. It was real in a way that I couldn’t ever explain to someone outside myself.”

“But you told them,” Grollis says, half a question.

“Yes,” Val says. Then, “No. Sometimes I think that everything I’ve ever said to them is a shadow of how I feel. That they’ll never actually understand. And I have to live with that. Something is always going to be lost in translation when it goes from inside your mind to inside someone else’s. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to say.”

Grollis nods slowly, absorbing this. “Did you ever think we’d be here?”

“In a spaceship, at the edge of a black hole?”

“Space truck.”

“Eberhardt can bite me.”

“I didn’t mean the space thing, though. I meant with you giving me relationship advice.”

Val throws his head back and laughs. Or, well, half-laughs, mostly-screams. “God, Grollis, of course not. I was a real shit when I met you.”

“You’re a real shit now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Thank you,” Grollis says. “And also quit looking so smug. And I have to work the night shift tonight, so you’d better let me sleep.”

Val waves a hand. “I’ll drag my cot to another room and go bother Galvanic or something. Don’t worry about me.”

“Shut up,” Grollis says, “of course I’m worried.”

All that does is make Val smile. “I know,” he says. “That’s what you do. It’s a bad look on you. Let me wander.”

“If you insist,” Grollis says, and clambers into hyr bed. “Leave, for all I care. I’m going to sleep.

Ze wakes up to Val still in his cot, fast asleep in hyr room. It’s a quiet process, shuffling out of the room and down to the cockpit.

Ze opens the door without knocking and is completely unsurprised to see both Domino and Theo there. Theo looks like he’s barely staying awake, but he still smiles brightly at Grollis. “You here to relieve us?”

“Go to bed, Honeywell,” Grollis says. “I’ve got it from here.”

Theo gets sleepily to his feet, and Domino follows suit. It’s only when the two of them are almost out of the cockpit that Domino turns around and says quietly, “Dogwalker asked you to call them.”

Grollis nods, which hopefully doesn’t betray the absolute panic that they feel at that thought. Domino closes the door, and ze pulls out hyr phone and plops into the pilot’s seat.

Qais picks up on the first ring. “Grollis?”

“I’m here,” ze says, and instantly knows it’s the wrong thing to say.

They take in a breath. “Grollis,” they say, “the Pies.”

“I know.”

“I’ve known some of them for fifty years.”

“Yeah,” Grollis says quietly. “Yeah, Qais.”

They go silent for a second, and when they speak again their voice is choked with tears. “Can you say my name again?”

“Qais,” Grollis says without hesitation. “Qais, it’s me.”

“Do you want to know something terrible?”

Grollis wants to know every terrible thing that Qais could tell hyr. Ze settles for saying, “Yes.”

“I forgot to be afraid of this. And now it’s like I’ve remembered all at once that we were never safe.” They draw a shaky breath. “I should’ve known, after Raúl.”

Grollis barely suppresses a grimace. They remember what happened to Raúl. They remember everyone saying it should’ve been impossible, and the Dale being distinctly subdued for a little while. They hadn’t had to be afraid of death for so long. And now there’s something new.

“What do you think it’ll be?” Qais says softly. “On the other side, I mean. Will it feel like dying?”

“No,” Grollis says, sharper than ze intends. “Qais, I’m not going to do this with you. That’s not… it’s not healthy.”

Qais sighs a long, shuddering sigh. “I know,” they mumble. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know how to react to this at all.”

“Neither do I,” Grollis admits. “But I’m on a ship with my team. And I’m talking to you.”

“I wish you were here,” Qais says. Grollis takes in a breath, as slow and measured as ze can manage. “I mean it. Even just… sitting in the same room with you, I think I’d be less afraid.”

“I wish I could be there,” Grollis admits. “Or you could be here. Or we could both be somewhere far away.”

“Seoul,” Qais murmurs. “You like Seoul.”

“I like Seoul,” Grollis says, heart in throat. “Qais?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to see you again.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I believe it. I like Seoul, and you like hyperpop, and I’m going to see you again.”

Ze could say that ze’s in love. Or that ze’s not. Ze could say any number of things. But instead ze waits for Qais to take in a breath.

“Grollis,” they say. “Grollis Zephyr. I’m going to see you again.”

When ze smiles, it’s a little shaky, but no less heartfelt for it. “See? It’s better if you can say that and mean it. I’m going to see you again, Qais. And I’ll make fun of your clothes and you’ll say your wrong opinions about Higashino—”

“Oh, come on, Grollis—”

“And it’ll be okay,” ze says. “It’s better already.”

“It’s better already,” Qais agrees. “Thank you.”

“Any time. I mean it.”

“Can we talk about anything other than this?”

“Qais,” Grollis says, very seriously. “Tell me about the worst pair of shoes you’ve ever owned.”

When Qais laughs in surprise, it’s one of the best things Grollis has ever heard. And when they say yes, that’s one of the best, too.

The end of the world comes while Domino is trying to teach Grollis cribbage.

It’s pretty mundane, all things considered. An intercom crackles to life, and Engine says, “The horizon’s acting up. You all might want to come to the cockpit.”

Grollis and Domino look at one another and start disassembling their game. Domino puts the pegs away, Grollis takes the cards, and they shuffle in silent unison towards the cockpit. Theo joins them, one arm wrapping around Domino’s shoulders. Grollis only stops to make sure Val is awake and finds him on the other side of the door, looking grim.

The whole active roster sits in the cockpit, some of them on consoles, some in chairs, some on the floor. Grollis stands near the back, and Val grabs one of hyr hands, holding on tight.

The immateria looks… volatile. The horizon is liquid, pushing back and forth. Grollis can see it lapping at the edge of the Crabs’ ship.

Quietly, ze pulls hyr phone out and types a single text to Qais: I love you.

The answer is immediate. Love you too.

Ze slips hyr phone back into hyr pocket. In a heartbeat Yusef is there, wrapping an arm around hyr shoulders, and Grollis leans hyr head onto nir shoulder.

“Well,” Engine says. “I guess I should say it’s been an honor.”

“Only say it if you mean it,” Terrell says lightheartedly.

“Then it’s been an honor,” Engine answers seriously. “I’m not interested in sitting and waiting to be swallowed. I’m gonna punch it into this son of a bitch, and we’re going to find out what’s on the other side. Everyone ready?”

Yusef mumbles a prayer in Arabic. Val presses a kiss to his wedding ring. Grollis closes hyr eyes and tries to visualize the Lazarus Pit, kneeling next to Qais at the edge of the water.

The wait feels like an infinity. And then the truck whirs to life beneath them, floor rumbling, and there’s forward momentum and motion and Grollis thinks Qais and thinks what’s going to happen and then ze doesn’t have time to think anything else until

When ze opens hyr eyes ze’s crumpled into a heap on the floor of the cockpit, lying underneath Val.

“G’off,” ze mumbles. Val just groans. “Val, w’r alive, get off me.”

“No,” Val says. But ze can feel him moving. Yusef is too, and across the cockpit ze can see Domino sit up quickly. Advantages of being a robot or something.

“Sound off,” Engine says from the pilot’s chair. “Who’s dead?”

There’s an answering chorus of groans, which is pretty encouraging as far as Grollis is concerned. Ze pushes hyr hair out of hyr face and squints out the front of the ship. It doesn’t look like they’re in space. It feels like solid ground, but everything is just textured black.

There’s a loud bang on the side of the ship. Grollis yelps out loud, and then punches Val when he smirks at hyr. Then there’s another bang, and a muffled voice calls, “Tokyo, how’re ya doing in there?”

Both Val and Yusef bolt upright. “Jaxon,” says Yusef. Val is scrambling to get out, barely bothering to avoid stepping on people as he goes.

Grollis looks at Yusef uncertainly. “Jaxon from…”

“Jaxon from the Pies,” ne says.

Ze looks at nem for another second and then— “Wait, the Pies are alive?”

“Buckley,” Val is yelling , and one of the doors is thrown open. “Where’s my wife?”

“We’re alive,” Yusef says, with no small amount of wonder. “We still exist.”

Grollis lunges forward and wraps nem into a clumsy hug, holding tight. “We still exist,” ze breathes into nir ear. Behind Yusef, Coolname clumsily pats at nir back, and then taps deliberately on the back of Grollis’s hand. Grollis smiles at it, and it gives hyr a nod.

“We exist,” Yusef says, “and you’ve got somewhere to be.”

Grollis drops a kiss to the top of Yusef’s head and pulls away. “I do,” ze says. “But thank you for getting here with me.”

“Thank you for staying with me.”

Ze squeezes nir shoulder and then gets to hyr feet. Everyone else is starting to sit up now, and so it’s easy for Grollis to pick hyr way towards the door of the ship.

Up close there’s a difference between ground and sky, although it’s not an easy one to see. When ze steps outside hyr foot sinks slightly into the ground, but not so much that ze can’t move. Like sand, or foam.

Ze takes a few steps away and looks around. All of the teams look like they landed close together, so it’s only a minute of scanning before ze catches sight of the front of the yacht, pointing outwards.

Grollis walks slowly, heart pounding with every step. Hyr phone buzzes in hyr pocket and ze ignores it, moving past Wings, Worms, Crabs.

“Grollis!” shouts someone. Ze looks up at the yacht, and on the deck is Rigby Peacelily, staring down at hyr with shock.

“Hey,” Grollis yells. “You all okay?”

“Stay right there,” Rigby calls back, and then rushes inside.

Grollis stays and tries to breathe as deeply as ze can. Hyr phone stops buzzing, and then there’s shouting, and then footsteps, and on the deck of the ship—

“Qais,” ze says, punched out of hyr in a single breath of relief.

“Shit,” Qais gasps, and jumps off the yacht onto the ground. They don’t even break their stride, just run towards hyr, and Grollis catches them with as much grace as ze can manage. Ze stumbles back a handful of steps and sinks to hyr knees, and Qais follows the motion, leaning on them. “Grollis, Grollis—”

“I told you,” Grollis says, giddy with relief. “See? I told you we’d see each other again.”

“Grollis,” Qais says again, and then they lean in, and then Qais is kissing hyr.

Grollis has kissed a few people a few times, but it was all before blaseball, and none of it was with anyone that ze cared about. Maybe ze shouldn’t be surprised at the effervescent bubbling in hyr stomach at the feeling of Qais’s hand warm against hyr shoulder, at the strange and gentle motion of their mouth against hyrs.

It ends as quickly as it began, and Qais is staring at hyr, wide-eyed. “Was that okay?”

Grollis nods, feeling a little frantic. “I think so.”

“You think?”

“Uh,” Grollis says. “I mean, I don’t think we’ve talked about this, but I’m aromantic and haven’t really done much of that, and I don’t know how I feel about you but I know I feel a whole lot of something and—”

“Me too,” Qais bursts out, and Grollis’s mouth opens in shock. Their shoulders are shaking, and ze realizes they’re about to start laughing. “I mean, I’ve— I haven’t really—”

“Oh my god,” Grollis breathes, and the two of them explode into laughter, Qais still hanging on to hyr shoulder for dear life. Ze isn’t sure how long they stay like that, but then Qais catches their breath enough to smile broadly at hyr, and Grollis… Grollis wants to be the kind of person who kisses Qais Dogwalker just because they’re sitting in front of hyr. Grollis wants to be the kind of person who figures out the details later, so long as they’re on the same page now.

So Grollis leans in and kisses Qais’s broad, smiling mouth. Ze doesn’t care if ze’s in love and ze doesn’t care what this means. The only thing ze cares about is how warm Qais’s answering laugh is against hyr mouth before they kiss hyr back.

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