[fanfiction] smile as I respire ('cause I know they'll never win) part 2

[kisforkurama]

At Bulletproof Heart's insistence, they stop at the mailbox first. It's a dingy metal structure about her height that's out in the middle of nowhere, and Bulletproof Heart scrambles out of the car when they get there. Her fingers are curled around New Perspective's wrist, and he lets her guide him. New Perspective stands behind her when she holds the letter in front of her for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before putting her letter in.

"Okay," she says when she's done, "Your turn now, New Perspective."

Nodding, New Perspective steps forward, standing just in front of the mailbox. He takes a deep breath, just like Bulletproof Heart, before he pulls his letter from his pocket and deposits it in the mailbox. It makes him feel better, somehow, and that's . . . different. He hadn't expected to feel light and at-ease once he put his letter in the box, but he does. There isn't much time to revel in the feeling before Bulletproof Heart is slamming into his side, though, wrapping her thin arms around him. New Perspective ruffles her hair like Jet Star did, and she beams up at him before letting go and grabbing his wrist again to lead him back to the car. He waits for her to climb in first before climbing in himself, noting that no one else had come out to the mailbox.

His eyes meet with Party Poison's in the review mirror, and Party Poison gives him a smile. It's small, and New Perspective thinks it mostly seems like a thank you for playing along with Bulletproof Heart's antics, but New Perspective doesn't know if he deserves that. In some ways, he's just as much of a child as she is and he wants to believe that there's a magical mailbox that can deliver his letter to his (potentially nonexistent) mother, no matter where she is. The others probably think it's stupid, but he doesn't care.

New Perspective's quiet on the ride back to Peter Pan's, mostly smiling at Bulletproof Heart's drawing. He folds it when they stop and tucks it into the pocket on the inside of his vest. Peter Pan looks happy to see them again, and he tells them to go on inside while he talks to the Killjoys. They do, New Perspective immediately gravitating toward the walls and running his fingers along the machinery tacked up until he finds something particularly ill. This time it's some kind of box or speaker, New Perspective's not entirely sure. It says its name is Sonic. New Perspective hums to it while he sits on the floor and takes Sonic apart, fixing the bits that don't connect correctly and mending the knob that doesn't quite turn. He's done by the time Peter Pan comes back in, and Peter Pan crouches down next to him when he's checking to make sure he's closed Sonic up correctly.

"I don't even know how you fix things up so fast, microchip, but you got a real talent for it. Guess you're gonna fix up everything here while you're staying with me, yeah?"
"If you want," New Perspective pats Sonic, "There's a lot of things I can fix, but I can't fix everything."
"Wouldn't expect you to. Anyway, I hear you go by New Perspective now. That right, microchip?"
New Perspective nods, "You don't have to call me that, though."
"I like it," Peter Pan laughs, "Come on. You and your group must be starving, and I've got good rations."

There's something about Peter Pan that's infectious and New Perspective follows him into another room. Ghost Note, White Album, and Photo Finish are sitting at a piece of wood balanced on a drum of some sort with slightly mangled metal stools all around it. It's even more haphazard than the diner, and somehow it feels more like a home rather than just a place where people live. New Perspective grabs a stool that was probably green once and is now chipped greenandgray. He sits while Peter Pan rummages through a box until he's got five cans with peeling labels and dusty sides. Despite the questionable look of the cans, New Perspective thinks that when Peter Pan said he had good rations, he hadn't been lying. They're the fruit kind, and New Perspective has to remind himself to eat slowly so he doesn't get stomach cramps.

"So tell me your stories," Peter Pan says once they've finished their rations, "Where are you guys from?"
"Ghost Note and I are from Casino City, originally. We moved to Battery City when we were pretty young, though. Do you even remember Casino City, Ghost Note?"
Ghost Note shakes his head, "Not really. I remember it being bright, that's all. I wouldn't call Casino City my home. Battery City is my home."
"You already know I'm from Turbine City," Photo Finish says, "I think you and your crew saved me from vamps once or twice."

Peter Pan squints at Photo Finish for a moment and then grins, a little manic.

"Photo Finish! I remember saving you when you got into a little trouble with Beckett and his crew for deserting. You came and helped us out when we got into a patch of trouble in jail too, didn't you?"
"I did," Photo Finish says, "How'd you get out here anyway? And what happened to your crew?"
Pete shrugs, "We followed the vamps Beckett sold out here when they became Dracs, but they found that zonerunning was a little different than hunting and went on to more exciting things. You know how it goes. So, how'd you end up all the way out here?"

Photo Finish looks down into his ration can, tapping his spoon on the bottom aimlessly and avoiding Pete's gaze. New Perspective can tell it's not really something he wants to talk about in the same way he can tell that Pete didn't really want to talk about what happened to his crew.

"My crew," Photo Finish says finally, "Tom and all, they wanted to come out to Battery City 'cause Beckett's got a tight, tight grip on Turbine City now and it's pretty much get with him or get out. We came to Battery City because of the Dracs, same as you, only we weren't as good or maybe we just got caught on a bad day and my crew got ghosted. I almost ended up ghosted too, but then skinny little White Album over there came and dragged me to a Wavehead bar and patched me up good. We were gonna run together when the Wavehead bar got raided and everyone was rounded up and taken away to Better Living. I don't even know what happened to those other kids."

New Perspective does, but he thinks that they're probably better off not knowing. He doesn't want to tell them how they take kids that won't be missed, the Toublemakers that Do No Good For Society, and turn them into Dracs. Doing so provides a never-ending supply of human labor for their cause, which had seemed like a decent thing to do when the teachers explained it to him, but he can see it's not very reasonable now. Peter Pan nods, like he's aware Photo Finish doesn't want to elaborate, and then turns to New Perspective.

"And what about you, New Perspective? What's your story?"
"I was raised by Better Living Industries to show people The Way," New Perspective says, "I appeared in literature and commercials, smiling and telling people that it was for the better. That the pills and false cheerfulness was for their own good. It's all I've ever known, but I'm learning that it's not exactly what I thought it was. They probably had me fix machines used for terrible purposes and I did it without thinking."

Ghost Note, who's sitting closest to New Perspective, slings an arm around him and squeezes. It's comforting, like it should be, and New Perspective smiles at Ghost Note a little to let him know he's okay. Peter Pan stands up, coming up behind New Perspective and wrapping his arms around him and squeezing. It's a little awkward, but New Perspective realizes what he's trying to do and he appreciates it. He's much more fond of human contact than he ever thought he would be-nobody touched him without good reason at the facility.

"I'm fine," he says, "seriously."
"Microchip," Peter Pan says solemnly, "you're awesome and you'll do good things. Don't ever forget it, okay?"
"I won't."

It'll be hard to remember, but logically New Perspective knows it's true. He can't be blamed for the fact that Better Living Industries never told him the full story. He can't be blamed for believing what he was taught and no one telling him that it could be wrong. It doesn't actually stop him from blaming himself for horrible things that may or may not have happened. New Perspective takes a deep breath and lets it out. He's fine. Everything will work out okay.

"So," White Album says, breaking the silence that's stretching thin, "now that we're running with you, what are we doing? Party Poison wasn't that specific, just said you'd be happy to let us run with you."
Peter Pan shrugs, "I figure that microchip here is just going to fix all the broken junk I've got lying around, and then one or two of you can come raiding with me while someone else stays here and protects the base against Dracs and suchlike with New Perspective. Sound good?"

White Album and Photo Finish exchange a look, and then White Album glances over to Ghost Note, who just shrugs in the same nonverbal way he generally communicates with White Album. Eventually New Perspective hopes that he'll be able to have silent conversations with people too. He figures it's just something that comes with spending a lot of time around people, which he really hasn't.

"White Album and I will go out with you," Photo Finish says, "Ghost Note and New Perspective will stay here and hold down the fort. New Perspective is a pretty good shot, and Ghost Note isn't so bad himself."
"Cool," Peter Pan grins, "I'll probably slowly introduce my clients to you guys so that they'll feel comfortable dealing with you guys and not just me, but for now we've got radios that you can call me back with and I'll try not to head out too far. New Perspective is friendly enough, and Dr. D should be putting out a report on you guys so that no one will try to shoot you. Hopefully. By the by, New Perspective, can you fix the radio up? It's been on the fritz."

Since New Perspective is pretty sure he could fix up anything that Peter Pan threw at him, he says yes. Following Peter Pan's directions, New Perspective locates the radio (his name is Shack) and brings it back to the table before he opens it up and looks at the insides. There's just some crossed wires that New Perspective fixes easily, and then he closes Shack back up and sets him on the table. Peter Pan does some fiddling, and then a smooth voice is pouring out of Shack and filling up the room.

"If you're running out in the zones soon, just know that Peter Pan's crew has gained some new members, young motorbabies, recently and it'd be much appreciated if you tried not to shoot them. Their names are White Album, Photo Finish, Ghost Note, and New Perspective. And now, here's a signal caught fresh off the airwaves for your listening pleasure."

Music fades in, something strong that makes New Perspective want to pick up a ray gun and ghost some Dracs. He's nodding his head along before he knows what he's doing, and everyone else seems to be joining in. Ghost Note's tapping out the beat on the table and Photo Finish's fingers are moving along some imaginary music-makery. New Perspective, for his part, mostly wants to open his mouth and sing, but he doesn't know the song so he hums along instead. It's a little less toneless than what he does when he's repairing machinery, but he still thinks it's not that great. White Album and Pete are both looking at him a little strangely when he catches their eyes, but he chalks that up to their respective weirdness rather than anything else.

When they tune the radio down to just a pleasant background noise, Peter Pan turns to New Perspective.

"Sing something for me, microchip."
"I don't know any songs," New Perspective says, "We didn't have music at Better Living."
"We'll have to teach you some then. Ghost Note, you drum, right?"

Ghost Note nods, Timpani in a corner with Fidelity and their ray guns.

"Do you play anything, White Album? And I assume you still know bass, Photo Finish."
"It's been a while," Photo Finish shrugs, "but I'm sure I can manage."
"Before," White Album says, "I played guitar. When Ghost Note played drums."

Nodding, Peter Pan wanders into the other room and starts collecting things off the wall. He brings them back at intervals, until everyone but New Perspective has some sort of music-makery. There's some conversation between them about what they're going to play, and then they start on a pretty simple melody that New Perspective is nodding along to. White Album starts to sing, soft and a little cracking, and New Perspective notes the words. He hums along, remembering the words. When they're finished and they start up again, New Perspective tries to sing along with White Album, but all the words haven't stuck and he ends up laughing instead.

"Let me go get you the lyrics," Peter Pan shakes his head, smiling, "maybe that'll make it easier."

Peter Pan rummages around in a box before he produces a sheet of paper with funny symbols all over it. He points to the little line of words under the symbols, and New Perspective nods, trying to figure out how the words correspond to the little marks above them. He sings most of the correct words this time, tongue twisting over some of the phrases, and both White Album and Pete are smiling at him.

"Clearly," Peter Pan says, "when we're not raiding to get goods to sell, we have got to put together some music to send out on the airwaves. New Perspective's voice is something that really shouldn't be wasted-it would seem he's a microchip of many talents."

New Perspective looks down, a little embarrassed, but he's happy that he belongs somewhere for once. If singing makes them happy, then New Perspective doesn't mind doing it. It's no trouble to him. They talk more about music, and New Perspective slips out to run his fingers over the wall of machinery again. Most of the things are a little fritzy somehow, whether from age or dust, but only a few things are really sick. He prefers to work with those first, because it makes him feel like there's fewer things suffering and because he really hates the way machinery sounds when it's weak.

There's a radio that's coughing, but New Perspective skips over it in favor of a flat thing with lots of buttons that's barely clinging to consciousness. Removing it from the wall carefully, New Perspective sets it on the table and pulls up a stool (this one blueandgray). His name is Sharpe, and New Perspective hums to him while he takes a look at what's wrong. There's a lot of cut wires and wrong connections, and New Perspective wishes he had a soldering iron because it would make his life a lot easier. He can make do, though, and he starts fixing the easy bits of the wiring while he's trying to figure out how to do the more complicated bits without a soldering iron. It'll be a little complicated, but New Perspective is sure he can figure out a way.

Sharpe tries to talk to him while he's working, but New Perspective shushes him and tells him it'll all be better in a little while. He touches one of the chips, finding that the problems aren't really in the wiring at all. Smoothing down the code quickly, New Perspective then starts patching the smaller breaks, smaller bits that aren't quite right. This is the easiest part for him by far, because it's just molding the code into what you want it to do and that's not hard at all once you know what you're looking for. The teachers used to say, in the closest they ever got to a joke, that New Perspective talked to machines first and people second. It was true, for most intents and purposes, because New Perspective found that the people around him usually treated him like he wasn't there at all and machinery never did that. Machinery was more than happy to talk to New Perspective, so the machinery at Better Living Industries became his friends in a way that the teachers didn't. Even White Album, Photo Finish, and Ghost Note don't quite know how to deal with him yet.

Moving on to a different chip, New Perspective frowns. The code for it is the messiest he's ever encountered and he wonders what made Sharpe this way. It makes him sad to see that people have mistreated something like this and he's so into soothing Sharpe for hurt long gone that he startles when Photo Finish comes up behind him.

"Sorry," Photo Finish says, "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's fine," New Perspective smiles, touching his fingers to Sharpe and brushing over the plastic gently, "I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings. This is Sharpe."
Photo Finish tilts his head, questioning, "Do you name them all or do they name themselves?"
"They just have names," New Perspective shrugs, "I don't ask how they got them, I just ask what they are. I doubt they'd know anyway, it's not like machines are intelligent in the way that people are. Sharpe, for instance, could tell you what all these keys do, but he couldn't tell you how to work a radio."
"Should you really be talking about them like that?" Photo Finish smiles, "Can't they hear you?"
New Perspective shakes his head, "They can't hear me if I'm not talking to them directly. Kind of like how the teachers thought I worked, only I can still hear people even when they're not talking to me."

There's something sad in Photo Finish's eyes, and New Perspective wants to tell him that it's okay, but he knows it wouldn't help. All the new people he meets are sad about the life New Perspective's lived, and he can't do a thing to change it except lie and there would be so much to lie about he'd never be able to keep it straight if he started lying. He'd learned a long time ago that lying was the most effective when you kept it simple and easy to remember. Photo Finish pats at New Perspective's shoulder.

"Your life kind of sucked, dude."
New Perspective shrugs again, "Can't change it now. Did you need me for something?"
"Oh," Photo Finish shakes his head, "Yeah, just wanted to tell you that Peter Pan got a call about a good loot supply so we're going to head out. It'll just be you and Ghost Note while we're out. Try to be a little more alert, yeah?"
New Perspective nods, "I will. Be safe, okay?"
"I will," Photo Finish pulls New Perspective close, "I'll come back, promise."

Letting New Perspective go, Photo Finish gives him a wave when he walks out. There's the screech of tires, and then everything is quiet again. Ghost Note comes over and sits across the table, setting their ray guns down next to the communication device Peter Pan gave them and watching New Perspective. New Perspective gives him a smile and then gets back to working. He doesn't focus so hard on what he's fixing, staying aware of his surroundings like he used to when the teachers were talking about him while he fixed the broken machinery they handed him. It was how he learned the most.

"I don't understand how you do it," Ghost Note says, "Just . . . fix things."
"It's kind of hard to explain," New Perspective says, frowning as he patches a particularly stubborn bit of code, "Part of it is just knowing electronics, which you could do too, but most of it is smoothing out the code in the chips. I don't think you can do that."

At least that's the impression that New Perspective got from listening to his teachers. They seemed to think what he did in that area was special, because they didn't teach him the electronics part until later. Working with a soldering iron isn't easy, and New Perspective doubts he could have done it when he was younger. When he's finished smoothing out most of Sharpe's code and Sharpe seems pretty okay, New Perspective closes him back up to work on later. He tilts his head, considering, at Ghost Note.

"You want to learn how to fix machinery? The electronic bits, anyway."
"Sure," Ghost Note says, "but I'm probably going to suck at it."
New Perspective smiles, "That's okay. I sucked too when I first started. I blew up a radio."

Strictly speaking the radio only smoked a lot, but Ghost Note doesn't have to know that. Saying it blew up is a better story anyway. Turning, New Perspective walks over to the wall and runs his fingers along things until he finds something that doesn't sound sick but still sounds wrong. New Perspective settles on a radio that should be fairly simple to repair. He brings it over to the table, moving his stool so he's right next to Ghost Note, and opens it up. It's name is Frequency, and he tells that to Ghost Note as he scans its innards. The problem is some crossing wires making a short circuit, and he points them out to Ghost Note.

"See those? They're touching and they shouldn't be."

Ghost Note leans in close, peering at the wires and probably not quite understanding but that's okay.

"What happens in electronics is that the electricity wants to get from negative to positive really quickly," New Perspective continues, "and so if there's a shortcut that the electricity can take, it takes it. Those two wires touching makes a shortcut, and that's bad because we want the electricity to only go where we want it to, not wherever it wants. So, we make the wires unable to touch."

New Perspective wraps one of the wires in the black electrical tape he'd found lying around, and then bends the wires so they wouldn't touch anyway. He surveys Frequency's innards again and can't see anything else fritzing, so he closes it back up and pats it.

"See? All better. A lot of the time," New Perspective says as he goes to return Frequency to its spot on the wall, "machinery gets broken by things like wires touching. Things that are easy to fix."
Ghost Note leans forward on the table, watching New Perspective, "But you don't just fix that stuff."
"No," New Perspective sits down and leans on the table too, "I fix stuff like the way the parts talk to each other and the way the machinery interprets what a user does. I can also make machinery do things it's technically not supposed to, but that's not such a useful skill out here."
"Are you kidding?" Ghost Note sits up again, "You realize how zaps are powered, right? Batteries. And those batteries come from vending machines that you can coerce into giving up everything they've got. You could be King of the Zones!"

There's something nice about the faith that Ghost Note has in New Perspective, but New Perspective's not sure if he'd ever use his powers for something that seems so purely evil. Sure, he's done stuff like that before, but it had been stuff geared toward his survival. New Perspective didn't know if he could do something so ruthless, and he didn't even want to be King of the Zones anyway. He just wanted to be New Perspective.

"What if I don't want to be King of the Zones?"
Ghost Note shrugs, "I dunno. Help me become King of the Zones?"
New Perspective raises an eyebrow, "Do you want to be King of the Zones?"
"Not really," Ghost Note leans forward on the table again, "It mostly just sounds cool, but I bet everyone from Battery City to Zone 6 would wanna ghost you if you were King of the Zones and that just wouldn't be cool."

They sit in silence for a moment, and New Perspective wonders why Better Living Industries would want to control everything. There's no real benefit behind it, and personally New Perspective thinks that life out in the zones is much more interesting. There's color, there's music, and (best of all) there's people who actually make you feel like you belong. Reaching into his vest pocket, New Perspective pulls out Bulletproof Heart's drawing. Smoothing it out onto the table, he smiles down at it and hopes that they can have this for a little while longer, if not forever.

Maybe that's the benefit to Better Living's way of doing things. There's no uncertainty in life when every moment of your day is planned out, and there's certainly no worry that what you have today could be gone tomorrow or the day after without warning. New Perspective doesn't know what loss feels like, doesn't know how you deal with that even though he's aware it's something that can happen. He thinks about asking Ghost Note, but somehow he knows that Ghost Note won't know either. When Peter Pan comes back, New Perspective thinks, he'll ask him. Peter Pan knows, if New Perspective understands his story correctly, all about loss. He may not want to tell New Perspective about it, but New Perspective feels like it's something important to know because he doesn't want to be floundering in loss when it happens. He wants to be prepared, at least slightly, for whatever terrible thing loss is.

Folding up Bulletproof Heart's drawing and putting it back into his pocket, New Perspective doesn't tell any of this to Ghost Note. He just picks Sharpe up and sets him back on the wall. The others won't be back for a while, most likely, and he should probably repair something else, but he doesn't feel like it and he doubts Ghost Note wants to watch him and be bored. Instead, he brings Shack in from the other room and sits him down on the table. Fiddling with the knobs, New Perspective manages to get Dr. D's station. Ghost Note brings his chair closer to New Perspective's, and they listen to the radio until Photo Finish, White Album, and Peter Pan get back. There isn't much else to do besides listen to the radio and repair things, honestly. New Perspective thinks that maybe they should ask Peter Pan to bring them back a game or something if he can find one. Hopefully something that Ghost Note knows how to play, because New Perspective doubts he will.

The only games he played at the facility were memory games, designed to test his memory and see how much he was paying attention, and he doesn't think that Ghost Note would be interested in that. They listen to the radio instead, humming along and talking about stupid nonsense until Photo Finish, White Album, and Peter Pan get back. By that time, New Perspective's forgotten the question he was going to ask Peter Pan.

New Perspective actually doesn't remember until Dr. D and Show Pony show up on their doorstep, wanting a night of shelter and a new microphone. He lets them in after they introduce themselves and helps Dr. D navigate around so he can pick a microphone off the wall. Show Pony sits on the table, legs swinging slightly, and chats with Ghost Note while New Perspective repairs Dr. D's choice, fixing up some loose wires that'll cause problems later and smoothing out the way it sounds.

When he hands the microphone over and Dr. D sets up his broadcast station in their base, New Perspective watches him and almost asks what loss is. He thinks that'd get interpreted wrong, though, so he waits for the others to come back and listens to Dr. D's broadcast instead. It probably wouldn't be a good thing to alienate Dr. D and Show Pony.

When White Album, Photo Finish, and Peter Pan come back, after Dr. D and Show Pony are safely asleep in the other room, New Perspective sits down next to Peter Pan, who looks up when New Perspective sighs. Peter Pan tilts his head, as if asking what New Perspective's come over about. New Perspective frowns, not sure how to articulate what he wants to say, and Peter Pan waits like he has nothing better to do even though he probably does. New Perspective finally decides there's no delicate way to say it.

"Peter Pan," he says quietly, "what's loss feel like? I wanted to ask Dr. D earlier, but I didn't think he'd understand what I wanted to know. Not really, anyway."

There's a silence, and Peter Pan sets down the ray gun he's been cleaning. He looks at New Perspective, searching for something that New Perspective can't identify, and then he sighs.

"Loss is the worst kind of feeling, microchip. Loss is when you lose something that's so dear to you that you lose yourself for a little while, wander around not really knowing what you're doing or where you're going until some finds you and smooths you hair back. Until someone finds you and says you are found, don't worry and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they're right. That can take a couple months or it can take forever, depending on stars and destiny. Does that answer your question?"

Because he doesn't really know, New Perspective assumes it does. It's good enough for right then anyway, a start to prepare for losing someone because that's an inevitability of his life now.

"Yeah, I guess," New Perspective says, "Thanks."
"Any time, microchip," Peter Pan grins, "any time."

White Album calls Peter Pan over then, and New Perspective stays on his stool and wonders if he was lost before White Album, Ghost Note, and Photo Finish found him. He feels like they brushed back his hair, smiled, and told him that he'd finally been found. He feels like they're everything that Pete said, but he wonders what he lost before that if they found him. Thinking, New Perspective can't come up with anything he knows that he lost. Better Living Industries isn't really something he lost, more like something he was saved from, and New Perspective doesn't really know anything outside of that. His mother? Maybe, but New Perspective still doesn't know if she exists.

It's not really that big of a deal in the end, so he stops thinking about it and goes to help White Album and Peter Pan with whatever it is they're doing. He pushes it out of his mind and tries to keep it out, although every time Photo Finish, White Album, and Peter Pan go out to raid someplace or something New Perspective can't help but think of it. Fixing the machinery and teaching Ghost Note how the electronic bits work helps him push it from his mind, but New Perspective always watches the sun and waits for them to come home. He's always worried that one day they won't, keeps the fact that it's a distinct possibility in the very front of his mind whenever they go out, and gets agitated whenever they're not back to base on time.

Photo Finish always promises he'll come back safe, just like he did the first time, and one day New Perspective knows that's going to be a lie. He doesn't want it to ever be a lie, but it's going to be one at some point because they do dangerous work and that work means that Photo's Finish's promise is an empty one meant to make him feels better. And it does make him feel better, but New Perspective just has this overwhelming sense of fear that one day they're not all going to come home safe and he can't do anything to shake it off. It's hard to articulate to the others, really.

"Don't worry about us so much," Peter Pan tells New Perspective when he brings it up, "we can take care of ourselves. You're getting worked up over nothing, microchip, and if you worry too much you'll get sick. We don't want you sick, so just believe we'll be fine and we will be."

Logically, New Perspective knows that the chances that all three of them will come back safely is high and that he's probably not helping anything with his worrying. Whenever he feels the worry coming over him and ready to hit like a heat wave too early on in the day, he goes to see Bulletproof Heart and draws with her or writes a letter to his mom. Even Bulletproof Heart thinks that he worries to much. She says that sure, her dads might not all come home one day, but until that day happens? She has nothing to worry about. So New Perspective tries to take a page from Bulletproof Heart's book. He tries not to hover when one of them is hurt, tries not to shake with worry when they don't get home, tries not to worry himself sick, and he mostly succeeds.

This time, though . . . Something is different about this time, and New Perspective couldn't tell you what, but he knows something is wrong. Ghost Note is trying to calm him down, only New Perspective already knows something's gone all Costa Rica, because no one's answering their communicators and they've been gone for three hours longer than usual. He paces the length of the table, and Ghost Note is saying things that are supposed to soothe his worry, but New Perspective can't take the overwhelming fear that's settled in his heart. There's no contact, so New Perspective has no idea what's happened. He starts thinking of worse and worse situations as time stretches out, unable to shut off his imagination.

They encountered Dracs. They encountered Dracs and they were outnumbered. They encountered Dracs, were outnumbered, and were far from base. They encountered Dracs, were outnumbered, were far from base, and their communicators were busted. They encountered Dracs, were outnumbered, were far from base, their communicators were busted, and it was getting dark. They encountered Dracs, were outnumbered, were far from base, got their communicators busted, it was getting dark, and one of them was badly hurt.

His family (and he thinks of them as his family now) coming home badly hurt was really his worst fear. He didn't even like when they were banged up, regardless of the fact that he and Ghost Note got into their fair share of claps that ended in bruises and cuts by defending the base. They never got seriously hurt, though, and that was the big difference. White Album and Photo Finish come home with gaping ray gun wounds that sluggishly bleed and get all over everything. Peter Pan comes home with burns and scrapes all over his arms from falling off his motorbike.

It isn't really that far from seeing a serious injury to imagining one of them ghosted.

His worst fears are confirmed when White Album and Photo Finish burst into the base, half-dragging a mostly unconscious Peter Pan between them. New Perspective resists the urge to run over, instead heading toward the coffeepot and starting up a strong brew like they've told him to do so he doesn't hover nervously. Peter Pan coughs like sick machinery, and New Perspective wills the coffee to prepare itself faster as White Album and Photo Finish set Peter Pan out on the table.

"It'll be done in a minute," New Perspective calls out, more for himself than anyone, "just hang on, Peter Pan."
"Don't bother, microchip," Peter Pan says faintly, "I'm not ghosted, I'm for real dead this time. Guess I ran out of lives playing it too close to the edge. Guess us vamps aren't made of stuff as strong as you humans."

He laughs, and White Album tries to quiet him, but Peter Pan waves him away and laughs some more. It dissolves into a terrible sounding cough, and New Perspective doesn't want to do this, can't do this. He's not ready for loss. He doesn't want his first loss to be something so huge.

"Funny thing, that," Peter Pan closes his eyes, "Beckett always said we vamps were immortal, were gonna live forever. Guess that's just another lie he told me, but it doesn't matter because that's old history. Gather up, motorbabies. I've got some real important stuff to say and I can feel the clock tick-ticking away."

Glancing at each other nervously, they all gather close to Peter Pan and wait for him to say whatever it is he has to say.

"I know I'm running out on you," Peter Pan breathes, watery, "but you guys have something solid. You guys can do something great, something that this world needs. White Album, I know you've been scribbling poetry down on scraps of paper. New Perspective, I know you've been tapping out some pretty rad music on Sharpe. You guys have to work together, okay? You have to bring live music to everyone, infect the airwaves with it until everyone knows all the words. This is your weapon against Better Living, guys. This is how you're gonna fight the man. So you promise me, okay? You promise me that you've got each other's back and that you're gonna do what I was too chickenshit to: make the world remember that music isn't something to ban. Music is something everyone can do, everyone should do. You're gonna make them remember that, and you're going bring a revolution to the world. Transmission received?"

Peter Pan opens his eyes, looking at the four of them. They look at each other, and then nod solemnly.

"Transmission received," they say in unison, "Peter Pan."
"Good," Peter Pan coughs once more, "Alright, motorbabies. Time to head to the getaway mile in the sky. I better not see you there any time soon, you guys hear? You stay alive. You live for me."

The last words are whispered, barely audible as Peter Pan slips away, and then it's just the four of them standing in a base that's theirs-but-not and staring down at the person all of them would probably call dad. Loss is nothing like what New Perspective imagined, not even anything like what Peter Pan explained. He expected to feel hurt, to feel a little lost because of the loss, but this is something on another level. This is New Perspective's heart being ripped from his chest and squeezed until it bursts.

He drops to the floor suddenly when his knees unable to hold him up anymore, and then he's being hugged tightly, so tightly, by White Album and Photo Finish and Ghost Note. They hug him like they're never going to let go, and New Perspective doesn't want them to. He doesn't want them to leave too, can't bear the thought of losing one of them if this is what losing someone he doesn't love with every fiber of his being is like. They're all he has, the only people he's considered his family.

"We'll be okay," White Album whispers, "We'll be fine. I promise."
"Peter Pan lived a full life," Photo Finish says, "We shouldn't be sad. He died fighting, with honor."
"Don't cry," Ghost Note pleads, "if you cry I'm going to cry too."

And New Perspective tries not to cry-really tries, because Ghost Note asked him to-but he's already shaking apart and ready to burst with tears. He breathes in, and it comes back out as a sob and then Ghost Note is sobbing too. White Album starts after Ghost Note, because Ghost Note crying always makes White Album cry, and Photo Finish cries too because he's strong but none of them are that strong. None of them.

When they've cried themselves dry as the desert outside, White Album cleans up their faces with his rainbow headband and they stand. Ghost Note and Photo Finish go outside to build a fire to the heavens, and White Album starts putting Peter Pan into his best clothes so he can be memorialized in style while New Perspective contacts Dr. D so he can broadcast the news. When he's done that, New Perspective helps White Album carry Peter Pan out to the fire, blazing and blasting their location to anyone, anywhere. Photo Finish and Ghost Note help lay him in the fire, and then they stand around the flames and watch Peter Pan transform into glowing ashes that get carried away on the night breeze.

The fire burns and burns until nothing's left and they should probably put out the fire but they don't. Instead, they carry all the rations and things of value to them out to the van and load it up before setting fire to the place they've been calling home. The location is no longer safe, is what New Perspective tells himself, but he knows that's not the truth. The truth is that their base only felt like home because Peter Pan made it so and now, without him, they have no ties to it. It's time to find someplace new, someplace theirs and theirs alone.

White Album starts up the car, revving the engine and waiting for everyone else to climb in before he starts driving. They're all looking behind them, watching the bright orange flare of what used to be home go up in brilliant flames that threaten to eat up the whole desert. None of them say anything.

As morning light starts to rise, they're four boys without anyone diving fast on the getaway mile and looking for somewhere to call home. Behind them, everything burns.

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