Post-Christmas fanfic
Title: A Shift in Tone
Setting: After something that was sort of like Countdown except it made more sense
Characters: Piper, sort-of-Trickster, Linda and Irey, AU versions of pretty much everybody
Pairings: Piper/Trickster and Piper/Fury in different AU iterations
Summary: Piper spent some time wandering among different universes, eventually landing in a eugenics dystopia and rescuing that world's Trickster. The hurt/comfort gets derailed by visitors from yet another Earth, where things are much more light-hearted.
Warnings: disturbing themes, intentional mood whiplash
Word Count: 3,440
The rats he’d sent out to one of Trickster’s-this world’s original Trickster’s-old hiding places returned with good news. The stuff was still there. They brought what they could carry home with them: identification documents, large denomination bills, lock picks, a few jewels. They had found clothing and weapons there too, but transporting them would require some planning. Piper insisted they stay home for the rest of the day. It was really too cold for little rats to be out after dark. Besides, Piper didn’t want James-Giovanni, he mentally corrected himself-playing with weapons in his present condition, especially weapons he wouldn’t be able to remember making.
Piper made sure the rats were all warm and snug before sorting through the things they had brought. The ID documents were the most important part of the stash. They were very, very good forgeries. With them, Giovanni could start a new life in this universe as . . . Piper glanced at one of the birth certificates . . . Albert Spangler. Albert Spangler? Really, James? What were you planning to do if you ran into one of the millions of people who would get it? Anyway, he could establish a legal identity here. The clothes would be useful, but Piper wasn’t going to send the rats out again in this weather. He’d already started taking the hems out of some pants that had been too long for him when he bought them. When the weather was better and Giovanni was recovered, they could go get the rest themselves.
“Gio? Are you awake?”
“Hmm? Sure. I’m awake.”
“You don’t sound certain about that.”
Giovanni winced as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “No, I’m totally awake.”
“Painkillers worn off? You can take more in an hour.”
“I’m completely fine. Awake, alert, never better . . . well, maybe a little better, once or twice.” Giovanni held out his arms, inviting a hug. He’d been utterly terrified of contact when he was feverish and passing in and out of consciousness. Surprisingly, he had become extremely affectionate in the last couple of days.
Piper sat on the edge of the bed and hugged his guest carefully. Yes, guest was a good way to think of him. This person was not really the same Trickster who had died to protect him. This was someone different, someone who looked like that Trickster (and sounded like him and even smelled like him) but had completely different memories (and different scars, more scars and worse scars, and the story they told didn’t bear thinking about).
Piper managed to maintain control of himself. He pulled back and offered the stack of papers and cards the rats had brought to the house. “I thought these might be useful. The version of you from this world, the one I used to know, was a con man. He kept documentation for different identities in reserve in case he needed to change plans at short notice.”
“So did I,” Gio said, looking through the papers. “It doesn’t look like you could store much data in these.”
“You don’t need to,” Piper explained, picking out a driver’s license. “This is enough for normal, everyday activities. It confirms that you’re allowed to drive a car, and it’s enough to convince people selling alcohol that you’re old enough to drink. The other things might be needed to establish your identity more firmly: birth certificate, passport, social security card. Just make sure, if you carry more than one form of ID, they’re all in the same name, okay?”
“No reproductive card or medical records?”
“Medical records are confidential. Or at least, they should be.” Piper couldn’t stop himself from going on a bit of a rant (it was only a small rant) about healthcare. He did manage to keep it fairly short, although that was at least partly because Gio was looking at him as if the concepts were utterly foreign to him. “Sorry. I can get so worked up about issues like this.”
“Yeah, I know. You remind me of an old friend of mine.” Giovanni smiled charmingly. “So, from what little I understand of what you just said, it sounds like the Eugenics Bureau doesn’t have much power in this world.”
Piper felt the bottom drop out of his soul. “There is no Eugenics Bureau. There used to be a eugenics movement, but that was long ago. It was discredited after World War II, when the Nazi atrocities became widely known. I’m guessing that didn’t happen in your world?”
“It did happen. The Reich took over Western Europe in World War II and everything, but it’s not the only government that still does eugenics. Every space-going country does.”
“I . . . excuse me.”
“Hart, are you okay?”
“You come from a world like that, and you’re asking me if I’m okay.”
“You just look so distressed. Is there anything I could do? Anything at all?”
“Stay with me.”
“What was that?” Giovanni sounded so very much like James when he used that half-teasing/half-wheedling voice.
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Now you sound exactly like the Hart I know.”
Piper stared guiltily at his breakfast. He was quite sure that Giovanni was in no condition to get up and cook breakfast this morning. Eating the food would be tantamount to encouraging Gio to cook for him again, which would, all things considered, be taking advantage. But it was already cooked by the time Piper woke up (and he shouldn’t have slept so long, and he could list a few other things he shouldn’t have done either), and it would be inexcusably rude not to eat the food. Besides, it was wrong to waste food, and that had to be especially true of perfectly cooked golden fluffy pancakes. Piper could never get pancakes just right, no matter how carefully he followed the instructions.
“Well? What do you think?”
“It’s delicious, Ja- Gio. But you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”
Giovanni grinned mischievously. “If you think this is trouble, your other Trickster must have been remiss in his duties. Speaking of trouble, I’ve been thinking about what we’ll do if I ever manage to heal enough for you to stop fussing over me. If there’s no Eugenics Bureau, whose day are we going ruin to celebrate? There’s got to be someone around here who deserves it.”
“It’s . . . complicated. And you don’t care, do you?”
“Nope.” The wicked smile faded. “Did that sound too personality disordered? Because I’m trying to do better. I just want to show you some appreciation for all you’ve done for me, and maybe, if it’s possible, make up for not being as good a friend to the other you as I could have been while he was alive. So if you want to go easy on whoever, that’s fine.”
Piper didn’t know how to respond to that. The sounds of someone-several someones, actually-approaching the house saved him from increasing awkwardness. There were one human, several rats-not any of his-and a somewhat larger animal. “Someone’s at the door. Or will be soon. I’ll go find out what they want.”
Piper opened the door to . . . himself. Well, obviously, it was some other universe’s version of himself-a version that was a little heavy for his diminutive height, with a very round face, enormous eyes, and a rather comical polka dotted costume. “Can I help you?” asked the version of Piper that was supposed to be there.
The other Piper looked up at him with big, shiny eyes. “We’re different iterations of the same person in different universes, so could I please, please, PLEASE stay with you for a few days? People in my universe are being unfair.”
“Unfair?” the less goofy-looking Piper asked. “Just how unfair are they being?”
That set off a flurry of complaints with occasional tears about people being, well, people-not especially evil or spiteful, just thoughtless and careless and rude. Piper ushered his double and the accompanying train of rodents indoors as the other Piper continued pitifully. “ . . . and then he threatened to step on a rat, and Lenny didn’t even make him apologize!”
“Lenny?” Piper said incredulously.
“I tried to call Lisa, but she wasn’t answering her phone. She called the next day to say that she’d eloped with Roscoe. I didn’t even get to help with the wedding. They went to Las Vegas without telling a soul. NO ONE appreciates me except my rats!”
Piper looked at his apparent duplicate’s “rats.” One of them was a guinea pig. The other animals . . . well, they were rats of some sort, but not any breed from this world. Their fur was too fluffy. Despite the fact that their bodies were slightly large by rat standards, their proportions looked babyish: big, round heads with very big eyes, short snouts, and extra-round little ears. These were what fancy rats might look like after a few more decades of selective breeding for the features that humans were most likely to find cute.
“Why is one of your rats a guinea pig?” asked Gio.
“Shh! He’ll hear you!” said the visiting Piper.
“But he’s a guinea pig,” Gio pressed.
The rather silly version of Piper shook his head. “Nicky’s a rat on the inside.”
“So the guinea pig ate a rat?” Gio said with a slightly twisted smile.
The silly being in polka dots looked sick.
“Giovanni, that’s enough!”
“I r a rat,” the guinea pig said. “U can give us teh cheez nao.”
“Nicky can speak in human words?” Piper asked weakly.
“They all can.”
“We r ready 4 cheez & someting 2 drinx,” squeaked the tiniest rat. Somehow, Piper could sense the lolspeak. “Then it can b hugz tiem & then we go 2 sleep.”
“It took us longer to find you than I expected,” silly polka dotted Piper said apologetically. “It’s past time for their snack.”
“I’ll see what we can do for them,” said the more sensibly dressed Piper.
“I tole u we wud get snax,” said one of the absurdly cute rats.
“Snax r L8,” said another. “I r sleepy already.”
Once the new rats were fed, introduced to the established rat population, and tucked in for their nap (yes, the ridiculously cutesy Piper literally tucked them in), Giovanni started scheming about how to use talking rats against humans. He graciously offered to let the Pipers choose the humans. The rather less ridiculous (but equally cute and cuddly, Giovanni smirkingly assured him) version of Piper was beginning to consider insisting that the designation “Hart,” which was Gio’s preferred nickname for persons named Hartley from any universe, be assigned to one and only one of them and the other could be the only person called “Piper” in the house for the duration. Something had to be done to keep things from getting any sillier. That was about the time Linda called.
“Piper,” she said hesitantly, “this is going to sound like a really strange question, but have you encountered a version of yourself from an alternate universe today?”
There were scuffling sounds in the background. From somewhere else in Linda’s house, Irey yelled, “Moooooom! It’s bouncing on my poster again!”
“I’ll take care of it in a minute,” Linda replied. “So . . . alternate selves?”
“Yes, actually,” said Piper. “Is it happening to other people too?”
“Yes and no,” said Linda.
“Mom, it’s still bouncing! It’s going to bend the poster board!”
“Don’t worry, hon, I’ve got this one,” said another woman in Linda’s house. “I’m on my way, Irey-sweetie! There’s a trick to keeping your stuff safe from that naughty thing.”
Piper nearly dropped the phone. “Was that Lisa Snart?”
“In a way,” said Linda. “Apparently, your other self ran away from home, and his friends want him back.”
“Lisa’s calling you?” said Piper’s other self. “From where?”
“From Linda Park’s house.”
“Your Linda or my Linda?”
“I’m not sure it’s right to call them our Lindas.”
The polka dot-clad musician looked serious for a moment. “Self, is the call coming from inside this universe?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I . . .” The other Piper’s eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“Did you hear that, Linda?” asked the increasingly frazzled Piper who was beginning to wonder if he should chalk the whole thing up to hallucinations. “The other me doesn’t know how he feels about that.”
“I was afraid of that,” said Linda. “The other universe’s Lisa isn’t the only one who came over. My house is full of these people. They used the other universe’s Mirror Master to get here; I hit him with a flashlight. I kind of regret that, but when I saw him coming through a mirror I thought it was the usual one. This one doesn’t seem that evil. Anyway, they really miss their Piper.”
“I made them write letters of apology,” chimed in a second Linda.
The first Linda lowered her voice. “Well, ‘write’ and ‘letters’ are a bit generous for some of them. They do seem to be sincere about wanting their Piper back, even the ones who don’t understand why what they did was wrong. But I don’t know the history of the other you, so he might have very good reason to stay away, no matter how sincere they are.”
“You have someone in particular in mind?” asked Piper.
“If it’s Mark, I’m not speaking to him until he apologizes for threatening Crumpet,” said the other Piper.
“It’s like this,” said one of the Lindas, “I wouldn’t trust half these people in any universe. I’m only putting up with this because one of me vouches for them, and I don’t want you to have to deal with them. I don’t want them to stick around here, interacting with Irey and Jai, either. I would suggest sending the other you to meet them at another location, but if they’re not what they seem, that would be cruel to him. Is there someone else we could ask to keep an eye on him? I’m worried that seeing some of these guys might be triggering for you.”
“Even the composer of this very romantic letter?” asked the other Linda.
“Especially the . . . person of the . . . marks on that paper,” said the less trusting and/or less forgiving Linda.
In the end, Irey disobeyed her mother and led the visitors to both Pipers because she’d had enough of watching her stuff get bounced on by a giant sentient quarter note. The Piper who wished he could convince himself this was a hallucination stared in silent astonishment as his double greeted the most perplexing parade of people imaginable. Their James looked like something from the cover of a manga with a lavender spine and acted like he might be legitimately insane in a mostly harmless way. Lisa looked like a Magical Girl with a strange upswept hairstyle, and Roscoe was absurdly tall and lanky. Mark looked like he belonged onstage at a rock concert, and his small son inexplicably had cat ears. The biggest men in the group were gigantic but carried their extra height and bulk in a way that didn’t appear at all threatening. These people looked as if they’d been drawn by a cartoonist who had seen a gallery of Twin Cities supercriminals and decided to exaggerate their different body types for comedic effect and cutesify everyone.
Piper made himself look away from two of them. He didn’t know whether the Mirror Master in front of him was an alternate Sam or an alternate Evan, he wasn’t going to try to find out because he didn’t know what he would do if he got the wrong answer. The other one reminded him far too much of one of his exes. That relationship had ended unusually badly even by Piper’s standards, and watching a version of him grovel at another Piper was unsettling. And when . . . that person and the bruised Mirror Master both awkwardly presented their letters to the other Piper . . . no. Just no.
Unfortunately, the thoroughly disturbed Piper couldn’t get them out of his line of sight without also looking away from Irey playing with the cat-eared toddler. That was much too cute to miss.
“Is that Mike McRory over there?” whispered Giovanni. “The big guy with the hat and the earmuffs?”
“The one I know is called Mick Rory.” Piper watched the massive, bundled-up guy lift the other Piper off the ground in a hug. “Yeah, I think that’s a comedy version of him.”
“I saw him die,” said Giovanni. “I mean, a lot of these people died in my world, but not right in front of me. I saw Mike die. We were in prison, and they were going to ship him off to a dead zone to build planes or space engines or whatever, but then they realized he was crazy . . . not just short-tempered or stupid or a sex offender like most orange card guys, but fire-setting crazy. If you get that kind of crazy, they don’t even bother with prison or labor or reeducation, they just shoot you.” He shivered, and not because of the cold. “They didn’t even bother to take him out back so the rest of us wouldn’t see, they just . . .”
Piper squeezed Gio’s unwounded shoulder. “We should let him wait in the house. He hates the cold.”
“He always did,” Giovanni said sadly. “Sorry, I’m being a downer. I know! I’ll make hot chocolate for those kids.”
Irey was being remarkably patient (for her, anyway) about teaching the tiny cat-eared boy to make snow angels.
“Warm milk would be safer,” said Piper. “Hot chocolate would make them hyper.”
“Exactly! Oh, you’re thinking of that as a bug, not a feature.”
“Are you trying to torment their parents?”
“Oh, come on, I’ve spent days not tormenting anyone. Maybe tormenting your conscience a little, but that’s easy.”
“Is it that obvious that I’m having problems with . . . with thinking about letting go when you don’t need me anymore?”
Giovanni melodramatically feigned exasperation. “There you go again, nattering on about what people who are not you need. Did you ever think maybe I like having another you? I was kind of a jerk to my last you, and I always knew you were sweet on me.”
“We shouldn’t talk about this now,” Piper said carefully. “When you’re ready to be on your own, then you can decide what you want to do.”
“I wouldn’t even be alive to decide if it weren’t for you.”
“Hey, what’s this about?” the other Trickster, the skinny one with huge eyes, demanded suddenly. “What’s going on over here? If you’re the other Piper, how come you have one of me at your house? Are you together?”
“Well, ah . . .” Piper had a hard time deciding how to answer.
“Isn’t it obvious?" said Giovanni. "I mean, we’re all standing here together.”
“But are you two together together? Why don’t you have one of those instead?” The less traumatized Trickster pointed over to where the comically oversized and overly affection Heatwave was passing his own world’s Piper over to what the less silly Piper was still working on accepting as an alternate version of Fury. For some reason, neither of them was inclined to put their Piper back on the ground.
“If that’s who I think it is,” Giovanni said with a smirk, “he’s a loser. Just one of the orange carded bruisers Hart used to run around with.”
The other Trickster’s saucer-like blue eyes grew even wider, in defiance of the laws of human biology and perhaps physics too. “Wait a minute, does this mean Piper is our true love?”
“We’re not exactly the same people because of our different life experiences . . .” Piper began.
“Could be.” Giovanni shrugged with such deliberate nonchalance that he had to be messing with his alternate self.
The other Trickster took off running, shouting, “Stop that! Gimme Piper! He’s my soulmate!”
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” said Piper.
“You’re curious about what they’ll do too,” said Giovanni.
Piper got ready to say something scathing, but at that moment, Heatwave stepped aside, allowing the apparently sadder world’s Piper and the probably even worse world’s Trickster an unobstructed view of an adorable fuzzy animal in a little blue hat and matching scarf. They both dissolved into laughter as they realized that the silly world’s Captain Boomerang was a wallaby.
Setting: After something that was sort of like Countdown except it made more sense
Characters: Piper, sort-of-Trickster, Linda and Irey, AU versions of pretty much everybody
Pairings: Piper/Trickster and Piper/Fury in different AU iterations
Summary: Piper spent some time wandering among different universes, eventually landing in a eugenics dystopia and rescuing that world's Trickster. The hurt/comfort gets derailed by visitors from yet another Earth, where things are much more light-hearted.
Warnings: disturbing themes, intentional mood whiplash
Word Count: 3,440
The rats he’d sent out to one of Trickster’s-this world’s original Trickster’s-old hiding places returned with good news. The stuff was still there. They brought what they could carry home with them: identification documents, large denomination bills, lock picks, a few jewels. They had found clothing and weapons there too, but transporting them would require some planning. Piper insisted they stay home for the rest of the day. It was really too cold for little rats to be out after dark. Besides, Piper didn’t want James-Giovanni, he mentally corrected himself-playing with weapons in his present condition, especially weapons he wouldn’t be able to remember making.
Piper made sure the rats were all warm and snug before sorting through the things they had brought. The ID documents were the most important part of the stash. They were very, very good forgeries. With them, Giovanni could start a new life in this universe as . . . Piper glanced at one of the birth certificates . . . Albert Spangler. Albert Spangler? Really, James? What were you planning to do if you ran into one of the millions of people who would get it? Anyway, he could establish a legal identity here. The clothes would be useful, but Piper wasn’t going to send the rats out again in this weather. He’d already started taking the hems out of some pants that had been too long for him when he bought them. When the weather was better and Giovanni was recovered, they could go get the rest themselves.
“Gio? Are you awake?”
“Hmm? Sure. I’m awake.”
“You don’t sound certain about that.”
Giovanni winced as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “No, I’m totally awake.”
“Painkillers worn off? You can take more in an hour.”
“I’m completely fine. Awake, alert, never better . . . well, maybe a little better, once or twice.” Giovanni held out his arms, inviting a hug. He’d been utterly terrified of contact when he was feverish and passing in and out of consciousness. Surprisingly, he had become extremely affectionate in the last couple of days.
Piper sat on the edge of the bed and hugged his guest carefully. Yes, guest was a good way to think of him. This person was not really the same Trickster who had died to protect him. This was someone different, someone who looked like that Trickster (and sounded like him and even smelled like him) but had completely different memories (and different scars, more scars and worse scars, and the story they told didn’t bear thinking about).
Piper managed to maintain control of himself. He pulled back and offered the stack of papers and cards the rats had brought to the house. “I thought these might be useful. The version of you from this world, the one I used to know, was a con man. He kept documentation for different identities in reserve in case he needed to change plans at short notice.”
“So did I,” Gio said, looking through the papers. “It doesn’t look like you could store much data in these.”
“You don’t need to,” Piper explained, picking out a driver’s license. “This is enough for normal, everyday activities. It confirms that you’re allowed to drive a car, and it’s enough to convince people selling alcohol that you’re old enough to drink. The other things might be needed to establish your identity more firmly: birth certificate, passport, social security card. Just make sure, if you carry more than one form of ID, they’re all in the same name, okay?”
“No reproductive card or medical records?”
“Medical records are confidential. Or at least, they should be.” Piper couldn’t stop himself from going on a bit of a rant (it was only a small rant) about healthcare. He did manage to keep it fairly short, although that was at least partly because Gio was looking at him as if the concepts were utterly foreign to him. “Sorry. I can get so worked up about issues like this.”
“Yeah, I know. You remind me of an old friend of mine.” Giovanni smiled charmingly. “So, from what little I understand of what you just said, it sounds like the Eugenics Bureau doesn’t have much power in this world.”
Piper felt the bottom drop out of his soul. “There is no Eugenics Bureau. There used to be a eugenics movement, but that was long ago. It was discredited after World War II, when the Nazi atrocities became widely known. I’m guessing that didn’t happen in your world?”
“It did happen. The Reich took over Western Europe in World War II and everything, but it’s not the only government that still does eugenics. Every space-going country does.”
“I . . . excuse me.”
“Hart, are you okay?”
“You come from a world like that, and you’re asking me if I’m okay.”
“You just look so distressed. Is there anything I could do? Anything at all?”
“Stay with me.”
“What was that?” Giovanni sounded so very much like James when he used that half-teasing/half-wheedling voice.
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Now you sound exactly like the Hart I know.”
Piper stared guiltily at his breakfast. He was quite sure that Giovanni was in no condition to get up and cook breakfast this morning. Eating the food would be tantamount to encouraging Gio to cook for him again, which would, all things considered, be taking advantage. But it was already cooked by the time Piper woke up (and he shouldn’t have slept so long, and he could list a few other things he shouldn’t have done either), and it would be inexcusably rude not to eat the food. Besides, it was wrong to waste food, and that had to be especially true of perfectly cooked golden fluffy pancakes. Piper could never get pancakes just right, no matter how carefully he followed the instructions.
“Well? What do you think?”
“It’s delicious, Ja- Gio. But you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”
Giovanni grinned mischievously. “If you think this is trouble, your other Trickster must have been remiss in his duties. Speaking of trouble, I’ve been thinking about what we’ll do if I ever manage to heal enough for you to stop fussing over me. If there’s no Eugenics Bureau, whose day are we going ruin to celebrate? There’s got to be someone around here who deserves it.”
“It’s . . . complicated. And you don’t care, do you?”
“Nope.” The wicked smile faded. “Did that sound too personality disordered? Because I’m trying to do better. I just want to show you some appreciation for all you’ve done for me, and maybe, if it’s possible, make up for not being as good a friend to the other you as I could have been while he was alive. So if you want to go easy on whoever, that’s fine.”
Piper didn’t know how to respond to that. The sounds of someone-several someones, actually-approaching the house saved him from increasing awkwardness. There were one human, several rats-not any of his-and a somewhat larger animal. “Someone’s at the door. Or will be soon. I’ll go find out what they want.”
Piper opened the door to . . . himself. Well, obviously, it was some other universe’s version of himself-a version that was a little heavy for his diminutive height, with a very round face, enormous eyes, and a rather comical polka dotted costume. “Can I help you?” asked the version of Piper that was supposed to be there.
The other Piper looked up at him with big, shiny eyes. “We’re different iterations of the same person in different universes, so could I please, please, PLEASE stay with you for a few days? People in my universe are being unfair.”
“Unfair?” the less goofy-looking Piper asked. “Just how unfair are they being?”
That set off a flurry of complaints with occasional tears about people being, well, people-not especially evil or spiteful, just thoughtless and careless and rude. Piper ushered his double and the accompanying train of rodents indoors as the other Piper continued pitifully. “ . . . and then he threatened to step on a rat, and Lenny didn’t even make him apologize!”
“Lenny?” Piper said incredulously.
“I tried to call Lisa, but she wasn’t answering her phone. She called the next day to say that she’d eloped with Roscoe. I didn’t even get to help with the wedding. They went to Las Vegas without telling a soul. NO ONE appreciates me except my rats!”
Piper looked at his apparent duplicate’s “rats.” One of them was a guinea pig. The other animals . . . well, they were rats of some sort, but not any breed from this world. Their fur was too fluffy. Despite the fact that their bodies were slightly large by rat standards, their proportions looked babyish: big, round heads with very big eyes, short snouts, and extra-round little ears. These were what fancy rats might look like after a few more decades of selective breeding for the features that humans were most likely to find cute.
“Why is one of your rats a guinea pig?” asked Gio.
“Shh! He’ll hear you!” said the visiting Piper.
“But he’s a guinea pig,” Gio pressed.
The rather silly version of Piper shook his head. “Nicky’s a rat on the inside.”
“So the guinea pig ate a rat?” Gio said with a slightly twisted smile.
The silly being in polka dots looked sick.
“Giovanni, that’s enough!”
“I r a rat,” the guinea pig said. “U can give us teh cheez nao.”
“Nicky can speak in human words?” Piper asked weakly.
“They all can.”
“We r ready 4 cheez & someting 2 drinx,” squeaked the tiniest rat. Somehow, Piper could sense the lolspeak. “Then it can b hugz tiem & then we go 2 sleep.”
“It took us longer to find you than I expected,” silly polka dotted Piper said apologetically. “It’s past time for their snack.”
“I’ll see what we can do for them,” said the more sensibly dressed Piper.
“I tole u we wud get snax,” said one of the absurdly cute rats.
“Snax r L8,” said another. “I r sleepy already.”
Once the new rats were fed, introduced to the established rat population, and tucked in for their nap (yes, the ridiculously cutesy Piper literally tucked them in), Giovanni started scheming about how to use talking rats against humans. He graciously offered to let the Pipers choose the humans. The rather less ridiculous (but equally cute and cuddly, Giovanni smirkingly assured him) version of Piper was beginning to consider insisting that the designation “Hart,” which was Gio’s preferred nickname for persons named Hartley from any universe, be assigned to one and only one of them and the other could be the only person called “Piper” in the house for the duration. Something had to be done to keep things from getting any sillier. That was about the time Linda called.
“Piper,” she said hesitantly, “this is going to sound like a really strange question, but have you encountered a version of yourself from an alternate universe today?”
There were scuffling sounds in the background. From somewhere else in Linda’s house, Irey yelled, “Moooooom! It’s bouncing on my poster again!”
“I’ll take care of it in a minute,” Linda replied. “So . . . alternate selves?”
“Yes, actually,” said Piper. “Is it happening to other people too?”
“Yes and no,” said Linda.
“Mom, it’s still bouncing! It’s going to bend the poster board!”
“Don’t worry, hon, I’ve got this one,” said another woman in Linda’s house. “I’m on my way, Irey-sweetie! There’s a trick to keeping your stuff safe from that naughty thing.”
Piper nearly dropped the phone. “Was that Lisa Snart?”
“In a way,” said Linda. “Apparently, your other self ran away from home, and his friends want him back.”
“Lisa’s calling you?” said Piper’s other self. “From where?”
“From Linda Park’s house.”
“Your Linda or my Linda?”
“I’m not sure it’s right to call them our Lindas.”
The polka dot-clad musician looked serious for a moment. “Self, is the call coming from inside this universe?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I . . .” The other Piper’s eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“Did you hear that, Linda?” asked the increasingly frazzled Piper who was beginning to wonder if he should chalk the whole thing up to hallucinations. “The other me doesn’t know how he feels about that.”
“I was afraid of that,” said Linda. “The other universe’s Lisa isn’t the only one who came over. My house is full of these people. They used the other universe’s Mirror Master to get here; I hit him with a flashlight. I kind of regret that, but when I saw him coming through a mirror I thought it was the usual one. This one doesn’t seem that evil. Anyway, they really miss their Piper.”
“I made them write letters of apology,” chimed in a second Linda.
The first Linda lowered her voice. “Well, ‘write’ and ‘letters’ are a bit generous for some of them. They do seem to be sincere about wanting their Piper back, even the ones who don’t understand why what they did was wrong. But I don’t know the history of the other you, so he might have very good reason to stay away, no matter how sincere they are.”
“You have someone in particular in mind?” asked Piper.
“If it’s Mark, I’m not speaking to him until he apologizes for threatening Crumpet,” said the other Piper.
“It’s like this,” said one of the Lindas, “I wouldn’t trust half these people in any universe. I’m only putting up with this because one of me vouches for them, and I don’t want you to have to deal with them. I don’t want them to stick around here, interacting with Irey and Jai, either. I would suggest sending the other you to meet them at another location, but if they’re not what they seem, that would be cruel to him. Is there someone else we could ask to keep an eye on him? I’m worried that seeing some of these guys might be triggering for you.”
“Even the composer of this very romantic letter?” asked the other Linda.
“Especially the . . . person of the . . . marks on that paper,” said the less trusting and/or less forgiving Linda.
In the end, Irey disobeyed her mother and led the visitors to both Pipers because she’d had enough of watching her stuff get bounced on by a giant sentient quarter note. The Piper who wished he could convince himself this was a hallucination stared in silent astonishment as his double greeted the most perplexing parade of people imaginable. Their James looked like something from the cover of a manga with a lavender spine and acted like he might be legitimately insane in a mostly harmless way. Lisa looked like a Magical Girl with a strange upswept hairstyle, and Roscoe was absurdly tall and lanky. Mark looked like he belonged onstage at a rock concert, and his small son inexplicably had cat ears. The biggest men in the group were gigantic but carried their extra height and bulk in a way that didn’t appear at all threatening. These people looked as if they’d been drawn by a cartoonist who had seen a gallery of Twin Cities supercriminals and decided to exaggerate their different body types for comedic effect and cutesify everyone.
Piper made himself look away from two of them. He didn’t know whether the Mirror Master in front of him was an alternate Sam or an alternate Evan, he wasn’t going to try to find out because he didn’t know what he would do if he got the wrong answer. The other one reminded him far too much of one of his exes. That relationship had ended unusually badly even by Piper’s standards, and watching a version of him grovel at another Piper was unsettling. And when . . . that person and the bruised Mirror Master both awkwardly presented their letters to the other Piper . . . no. Just no.
Unfortunately, the thoroughly disturbed Piper couldn’t get them out of his line of sight without also looking away from Irey playing with the cat-eared toddler. That was much too cute to miss.
“Is that Mike McRory over there?” whispered Giovanni. “The big guy with the hat and the earmuffs?”
“The one I know is called Mick Rory.” Piper watched the massive, bundled-up guy lift the other Piper off the ground in a hug. “Yeah, I think that’s a comedy version of him.”
“I saw him die,” said Giovanni. “I mean, a lot of these people died in my world, but not right in front of me. I saw Mike die. We were in prison, and they were going to ship him off to a dead zone to build planes or space engines or whatever, but then they realized he was crazy . . . not just short-tempered or stupid or a sex offender like most orange card guys, but fire-setting crazy. If you get that kind of crazy, they don’t even bother with prison or labor or reeducation, they just shoot you.” He shivered, and not because of the cold. “They didn’t even bother to take him out back so the rest of us wouldn’t see, they just . . .”
Piper squeezed Gio’s unwounded shoulder. “We should let him wait in the house. He hates the cold.”
“He always did,” Giovanni said sadly. “Sorry, I’m being a downer. I know! I’ll make hot chocolate for those kids.”
Irey was being remarkably patient (for her, anyway) about teaching the tiny cat-eared boy to make snow angels.
“Warm milk would be safer,” said Piper. “Hot chocolate would make them hyper.”
“Exactly! Oh, you’re thinking of that as a bug, not a feature.”
“Are you trying to torment their parents?”
“Oh, come on, I’ve spent days not tormenting anyone. Maybe tormenting your conscience a little, but that’s easy.”
“Is it that obvious that I’m having problems with . . . with thinking about letting go when you don’t need me anymore?”
Giovanni melodramatically feigned exasperation. “There you go again, nattering on about what people who are not you need. Did you ever think maybe I like having another you? I was kind of a jerk to my last you, and I always knew you were sweet on me.”
“We shouldn’t talk about this now,” Piper said carefully. “When you’re ready to be on your own, then you can decide what you want to do.”
“I wouldn’t even be alive to decide if it weren’t for you.”
“Hey, what’s this about?” the other Trickster, the skinny one with huge eyes, demanded suddenly. “What’s going on over here? If you’re the other Piper, how come you have one of me at your house? Are you together?”
“Well, ah . . .” Piper had a hard time deciding how to answer.
“Isn’t it obvious?" said Giovanni. "I mean, we’re all standing here together.”
“But are you two together together? Why don’t you have one of those instead?” The less traumatized Trickster pointed over to where the comically oversized and overly affection Heatwave was passing his own world’s Piper over to what the less silly Piper was still working on accepting as an alternate version of Fury. For some reason, neither of them was inclined to put their Piper back on the ground.
“If that’s who I think it is,” Giovanni said with a smirk, “he’s a loser. Just one of the orange carded bruisers Hart used to run around with.”
The other Trickster’s saucer-like blue eyes grew even wider, in defiance of the laws of human biology and perhaps physics too. “Wait a minute, does this mean Piper is our true love?”
“We’re not exactly the same people because of our different life experiences . . .” Piper began.
“Could be.” Giovanni shrugged with such deliberate nonchalance that he had to be messing with his alternate self.
The other Trickster took off running, shouting, “Stop that! Gimme Piper! He’s my soulmate!”
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” said Piper.
“You’re curious about what they’ll do too,” said Giovanni.
Piper got ready to say something scathing, but at that moment, Heatwave stepped aside, allowing the apparently sadder world’s Piper and the probably even worse world’s Trickster an unobstructed view of an adorable fuzzy animal in a little blue hat and matching scarf. They both dissolved into laughter as they realized that the silly world’s Captain Boomerang was a wallaby.