Lost Connection

He was younger, then. He sat on the floor with an even younger child, a decade his junior, teaching her to read. Pointing up to letters projected on a screen on the wall, he stopped as the screen flickered, blinking, darkness falling.

Later. He was alone now, and held something familiar in his hands, already well versed in how to use it, to react quickly and efficiently. He sped through each test with ease, but those actions weren't his own, and his body moved without him. Left him behind.

He was with her again. They spoke - he didn't know what about, didn't understand what was discussed. He was watching them from a distance, watching himself speak to her. She was older, now. So was he.

Their surroundings altered, a sense of danger and unease pervading. There were others. Intruders. Enemies. He could only watch helplessly as the puppeteer guided him to his weapon, held it up against them. Against her. He felt sick, terrified as his own finger pulled the trigger, and he was powerless against it, only able to watch as the shot was fired.

Henry woke with a start, yelping slightly. Sweat had gathered on his forehead, running down as he sat up. Breathing heavily, he waited for his pulses to slow before rising from the bed, going to get a drink.

He had woken like this before. He was frequently troubled by these uncomfortable dreams, but as soon as he woke up, the memories were gone. What had it been about? Walking to the kitchen, he took out a glass and filled it from the tap, drinking quickly. Once it was drained, he filled it again and took it with him, walking back towards the spare bedroom. He jumped slightly as he saw something moving in the dark, his nerves skyrocketing once more - a click sounded in the room and it suddenly flooded with light, making him flinch. His eyes adjusted and he saw Eight, standing at the light switch.

"You could not sleep?" she asked.

He blinked, waiting briefly to calm down before responding. "...No."

This wasn't the first time this same situation had played out. Eight had grown used to his waking in the night, no longer noting it on most occasions, but when he had first arrived she had been wary of him, watching with an uncertain focused gaze when he got up in the midst of the dark. She nodded to him, going to get a drink of her own, then crossing to the sitting room and settling on the sofa.

"I could not, as well."

This was a first. If she did check on him it would usually be brief, her soon returning to her room, but apparently not today. Unsure of himself, Henry paused for a while, eventually slowly going to accompany her. He sat at the far end of the sofa, leaving plenty of space between them as he perched on the edge of the cushion. Eight was looking down, fidgeting with her glass, rubbing her fingers along it. There was silence between them, for a moment, before she spoke up.

"Do you have bad dreams?"

She hadn't asked before, why it was that he was up so frequently. "...Yes." While he didn't recall the contents of the dreams, he supposed that must be what they were, given the state it left him in upon awakening.

"I have them sometimes, as well." She brought the glass up, drinking from it briefly. "...I never wanted to fight. I do not remember a many lot of things, but I do remember this."

"Oh," Henry said. What would that be like, to fight without wanting to? Something about that seemed familiar. He furrowed his brow as that twinge of recognition held strong. "...Perhaps I didn't want to, either."

"You had to fight?" Eight asked.

"...I don't know," Henry admitted. "I still don't remember… But… something about not wanting to… felt familiar."

"I see," Eight said quietly. "Perhaps it is better for you not to remember. Some of the things are… hurting to remember."

"What is it that you remember?"

Eight was quiet, not answering immediately. She kept her gaze straight ahead when she continued. "I think I remember having to fight Badger. And feeling like I would have to fight to kill, or be the killed." She shivered slightly, drawing in on herself. "I do not think I ever wanted to be a soldier. But I do not think I was to choice."

"I'm sorry," Henry said. He wasn't sure what he was sorry for, but it was the only thing he could think to say. That felt familiar, too - not having a choice. He may not know what his former life had been, but it certainly didn't seem like one he'd had any say in.

This was the longest conversation they'd had together, at least with just the two of them. Thinking back, the only time they'd really had any other lengthy talk involving him was back when he first arrived a couple of weeks ago, with Marina and Pearl.

---

"Henry."

Henry looked up nervously as he was addressed, Marina looking down to where he sat on the sofa. Eight was just behind her, holding her arm and looking away with an almost guilty expression. Next to them was Pearl, also with her eyes on him. The attention made him feel small.

"Y-yes?"

"I know you haven't any experience with life amongst society, so there's no reason to expect any particular behaviours would've rubbed off on you… But given the circumstances, it still feels important to make things clear," Marina began, her tone gentle but her gaze wary. "If you do anything to hurt Eight, there will be consequences."

"Hurt her?" Henry blinked, shocked. "Why on Earth would I do that?"

"'S a weird situation, aight?" Pearl said. "She's, like, a teenager, and you're a dude lookin' to be in your mid twenties. That's weird. It's kinda susp."

"It is…?" Henry looked down uncertainly. "I… I'm sorry. I… didn't know…"

"Well, we were the ones who offered for you to stay here," Marina reasoned gently. "It's not like you demanded to be here. And, well… It shouldn't really be an issue, should it?"

"N-no, of course not," Henry said quickly. "I, I'm grateful to you all for giving me somewhere to stay… I wouldn't dream of repaying that kindness so poorly. I have no interest in doing anything to hurt her."

Marina said something aside to Eight that he couldn't decipher, and the younger octoling turned to him nervously before muttering back in similar tongue.

"'S not like we really expected you too, or anything," Pearl said. "Just double checking. And she was kinda nervous about it, so hopefully havin' talked about it will help."

"I… see…" Those words weren't really true. He hadn't done anything by accident, had he? Or… was it about his past behaviour, that which wasn't truly his? That made more sense. "...I understand. I would never willingly harm anyone, not of my own choice."

Marina spoke with Eight in those words he didn't recognise again, and he watched anxiously. Having to be warned about his behaviour… didn't feel particularly welcoming. He wasn't sure enough of himself to feel very comfortable regardless, but when it was clear he wasn't trusted… He only felt even further out of place. An outsider. Alone.

---

He never had gotten to feeling comfortable here, or anywhere else for that matter. His life held far too much uncertainty, about himself, what had been in his past, what he should do with his future - he had no clue about any of it. He simply felt lost.

Eight let out a quiet breath, drawing his attention out of his thoughts slightly. She seemed pensive, looking up at him. “Do you ever speak to Lavender about… how you were before?”

Henry glanced over to her, thinking briefly. “…No. I… Well, it seems the time I have no memories of is time I spent being controlled by that AI, so… It’s not like my actions then would reflect who I was, just what it told me to do.”

Eight was silent for a moment. “Lavender does not seem to think so. She says you were always gentle, and she does not think that came from the AI.”

Thinking back to what brief encounter he had with it that he recalled, he could certainly agree that any semblance of kindness wouldn’t have come from that. “Is that so…?”

Eight fidgeted slightly where she sat. “I… After talking to her, I thought about what it might have been like for me, if when I woke up on the Metro I had not met the Captain and Pearl and Marina. I was alright then, because people were kind to me. So… I am sorry if before I have not been kind to you.”

“Oh… Um, it’s alright,” Henry replied uncertainly. He hadn’t expected anything like that. “It’s not like you’ve been unkind to me… And you do let me live here…”

“Hmm…” Eight sounded dissatisfied, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Maybe. But you seem like… How I might have felt if I had been alone.”

Henry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. That was true enough – he did feel alone, despite the others around him, despite what Peppermint had told him so soon after they met. Everyone else had their friends, got along with each other, trusted each other, yet he was on the fringes, lagging behind, simply there by association. He couldn’t find anything to say, uncertainty gnawing away at him. The silence stretched, awkward and uncomfortable.

“Um… Tomorrow, Lavender and I were going to go for turf war… Would you like to come with us?” Eight asked.

Henry blinked. He’d played a little with them before but didn’t have quite the same enthusiasm for it as them, ending up stopping earlier than them and going to a coffee shop with his earnings for some quiet. He wondered if that had left the wrong impression, as he hadn’t been asked if he’d like to join them again after that, at least until now. “…Yes. It’s been a while since I played… It’ll be good to get out.”

Eight gave a small smile, standing then. “That is good. I will try and sleep more. …You should, too.”

Henry nodded, sipping slightly from his water as he stood. “Mm. I will.” Walking back to the spare room, he heard Eight pause on her way to her own.

“Goodnight,” she said. “I hope you can sleep better.”

“Mm. Goodnight,” Henry replied. “The same to you.”

---

The rest of the night passed undisturbed, and Henry woke feeling significantly better in the morning. Yawning as he stretched, he soon got up, going to have breakfast. Eight was already up. He’d noted she was an early riser.

“Good morning,” she said, still in pyjamas and already with a plate of toast in hand.

“Good morning,” Henry replied, getting out a bowl for cereal.

“Were you able to sleep more?”

Henry paused slightly. He hadn’t really expected much more than the bare minimum of a greeting, used to that. “Um, yes. Did you?”

“Yes, a lot better,” Eight said with a slight smile. “Um… Lavender is not awake so early, so we will not be going out for some while.”

“Oh… I see.” Not sure what else to say, he finished making his own breakfast and went to sit with it to eat. Eight was quiet then, and a silence fell between them as they ate. Once Eight finished up her toast, she took the plate to the kitchen, then pausing once she was back in the sitting room.

“What things do you usually do in the day?” she asked.

“Hmm?” Henry thought briefly. “I… go to coffee shops… or the library. Places where I can sit quietly, really…”

“Oh, I see. Quiet places,” Eight replied thoughtfully. “Have you been yet to the museum?”

“Museum?” Henry echoed questioningly.

“Yes. It is quiet, and full of things to learn about. I learned a lot about the surface and inkling culture there,” Eight explained. “Perhaps you should go there one day.”

“I’ll have to keep it in mind,” Henry said quietly. With that, Eight went to her room. Finishing his own breakfast, Henry washed up what was by the sink and went to the spare room, picking up a book he’d borrowed from the library, reading until he heard Eight knock at the door some time later, ready to go and meet Lavender. The walk to the square was a little over half an hour, but the train service got there significantly sooner. It wasn’t long before they arrived outside the lobby, and Lavender was already there waiting for them.

“Hi, Eight, hi Henry!” she chirped, waving to them as she walked over. Eight waved back, smiling. Henry gave a brief wave of his own as she joined them.

“Hello, Lavender,” he said quietly.

“It’s been a while! How are you?” Lavender asked.

“Oh… Um…” He felt like saying he was fine was a stretch at best, but didn’t really want to bring down the conversation, hoping to deflect the question instead. “I was hoping I could ask you about… me, I suppose. Eight mentioned you talked a little about me before…”

“Mm-hmm, I did,” Lavender replied, looking up at him brightly. “You taught me stuff and ­­took care of me when I was young. I mean, I guess now we know you were doing that ‘cause the AI made you, but… You were always kind. That doesn’t seem like something that it would have told you to do… So I wonder if a little of how you are yourself still got through anyway.”

“Is that so…?” He took care of her? Thinking about it, something about that did feel a little familiar. Lavender in particular seemed slightly more familiar to him than anyone else, presumably just because they’d spent so long together that even with most of his memories gone there was enough of her in what little remained to recognise her.

“Yep. I never really thought about how I thought of you back then, because it was like… Well, you were the only one there, so there was no need to actually put it in terms, because there wasn’t anything else to distinguish it from. But now that I’ve been out here with everyone learning more about people firsthand and what different people are to each other and all, I think I always saw you as family. Like my older brother or something,” Lavender continued.

Henry was quiet, considering that. There was definitely a sense of familiarity here, definitely something lurking under the surface that he just couldn’t drag forward, couldn’t bring the memories up. On top of that, though, a feeling bubbling up, one he couldn’t name that made it a little difficult to focus. When he tried to voice either of those things, though, he found he couldn’t, the words sticking in his throat.

“So, um, on that note,” Lavender said, still smiling but a little nervously now. “Would it be alright to… get a hug?”

Henry nodded, still not quite finding himself able to form words, and there was a lump forming in his throat. “Mm.”

The nervousness quickly melted from Lavender’s face and she beamed. “Thank you!” Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, and that feeling of recognition grew stronger, along with the other emotion surging. Henry looked down at her, hugging her back, and felt a wetness on his face. Sniffing, he realised he was crying. Lavender heard him, looking up and gasping slightly.

“A-are you okay?” she asked quickly.

“I- I don’t know,” Henry said, his voice cracking slightly. He sniffed again, blinking, and new tears fell from his eyes.

“Aww, Henry. It’s okay. That’s okay,” Lavender said comfortingly, rubbing his back as she continued to hug him.

“Um- um- sh-shall we sit down?” Eight asked nervously, looking towards some of the benches.

“Yeah, let’s go sit,” Lavender agreed, letting go and taking hold of Henry’s arm, gently pulling him over to the bench. As soon as they sat, she hugged him again, continuing to rub soothing circles on his back.

“Th-thank you,” Henry mumbled, struggling to push the words out. He didn’t know what had brought this on but the tears kept coming as he sobbed, sniffing as he held onto Lavender. He couldn’t bring himself to let go, not even to try and wipe away the tears. She was familiar, something about that was comforting, and he clung to that, that little bit of something that felt like he might know it, somewhere. He tried not to be too loud as the crying continued, but neither of the others tried to subdue him, instead letting him do so. It was a long while before he quieted, running out of tears. Lavender was still hugging him and rubbing his back as she spoke up.

“It’s okay,” she said again. “It’s okay if you’re a bit of a mess. I think it’s pretty impossible not to be, what with what happened to you…”

He nodded mutely, sniffing. It took a while longer for him to collect himself enough to let go, slowly drawing back. “Thank you…” he repeated.

“I haven’t had a chance to see you so much since we got out, but… That’s given me plenty of time to think about it all, and even if the thing was controlling you before, I still feel the way I did,” Lavender said. “Like you’re family to me. The circumstances may have been… weird… but you’re still the one who was there with me.”

He sniffed again, unsure what to say. Quiet for a moment, he tried to work through his own feelings, what had brought them up, what he felt. “I… wonder if I might feel the same,” he said quietly, interrupted slightly by a hiccup. “I definitely feel like I recognise you, at the very least. And…” he trailed off, wondering just what his emotions meant. “I think… No, I’m certain I care about you. And that… feels familiar, too.”

Lavender looked up at him, a realisation spreading on her face then, a smile growing with it. “That proves it, then!” she announced excitedly. “If it feels familiar, then it must have happened before. So somewhere, even despite the AI controlling you… You cared about me. You did.” She breathed out a sigh of relief. “So… You are the person I always thought I knew. I… I’m really glad,” she said, her own voice cracking just slightly. “When I found out it had been the AI, I was really scared by that. You were the only person I’d ever known until then, you were my family, and it felt a little like that had been ripped away from me. But… It really was you. Not the AI. You’re… still here.”

She leaned against him, and he put one arm around her. She seemed certain of who he was, more so than himself. He wasn’t sure just how correct she’d be about him, but what he’d said then, that was true. For the first time since waking up with everyone and getting out of the test centre, there was something he felt sure of. It helped calm him. They sat there quietly for a moment longer, Henry feeling his breathing slowly return to normal. Eight watched them silently from next to them on the bench. Eventually Lavender spoke up.

“Are you feeling alright now?”

“Yes, I think so,” Henry replied, drawing in an unsteady breath.

“Ready for turfing?”

“…Yes,” he said shakily, standing. “I… this has given me a lot to think about, but… not right now, I think. A break from that would be appreciated.”

“Then let’s go,” Lavender said cheerfully, getting up. Eight stood with her, still looking a little nervous, but Lavender wasted no time in marching towards the lobby. Eight glanced up at Henry.

“Are you… definitely alright?”

“Mm.” He nodded. “I am, now, thank you.” He looked after Lavender, already on her way to register for a match. “I’m glad I came. I have a lot to consider now… but it’s been a good thing.”

“Yes?” Eight smiled ever so slightly. “That is good.”

Henry followed Lavender into the lobby, Eight following beside him. Lavender was waiting by the lift, ready to go. She smiled at the both of them as they joined her, bouncing slightly in anticipation and hopping in as soon as they caught up. Eight began chatting with her as they joined her, going into the lift. Henry hung back quietly, content to let them talk without him, but Lavender quickly turned and spoke to him, too, asking what kind of weapon he might want to try if he got more than just the splattershot jr given out to the new players. Being invited into the conversation was new. Lavender had such a warm attitude towards him, and it left him feeling a little more certain.

A little more welcome.