InsaneJournal

New England is chilly.

Tobias frowned in confusion at the small black device in his hands, leaning back against the tree across some grass and the street facing Pickman House.

He was on edge with his ‘normal’ senses dulled by human capability, missing the eyes that saw any and everything moving around him and the wings that would carry him to safety from almost anything in seconds. The feathers that protected him from the damp, chilly breeze. His morphing outfit; a pair of skintight black and yellow biking shorts and a white tank top, did nothing to protect his pale human frame from the bite, even if it did look slightly more in place with him resting just off the sidewalk. He had bushes on either side, he could pass for a jogger, taking a break.

Well, if it weren’t for his complete lack of shoes. And most joggers with scraggly blonde hair hanging past their chin would have it tied back, look sweaty, have a water bottle or head phones or… well, alright. So he didn’t look like much of a jogger, then. The skinny 15 year old grunted in mild annoyance and tried to refocus his mind. That was harder to do in human form too now, somehow. Probably because he already missed soaring on the thermals.

Sighing, Tobias carefully activated the screen. The device was unusual to him but a few days flying around he’d seen these ‘phones’ worked plenty of times, so it wasn’t too difficult to navigate. He even found the chat room that he’d seen other people using to talk to each other about being ‘stuck’ and ‘from different worlds’ and discussing other strange happenings.

That’s where he’d gotten the name of this place, and where he’d heard help was being offered to ‘new arrivals’. Sounded a lot like the Sharing, to him, but then….

He stared at the building morosely, a new message open on the screen but empty.

Should he just play dumb, ask for help? See which charity was suggested, or government agency sent after him to ‘collect’ him? That wasn’t much of a concern to the morpher, but it wasn’t an appealing idea, otherwise.

His stomach growled and his head bowed slightly. Maybe he’d go for a hunt and come back, there was probably somewhere safe and dry he could leave the phone within walking distance from the building.

===

Steve was on his way back to the Pickman house, head down, hands shoved into his pockets, laundry packed into a bag on his back, when he caught sight of a young man half-hidden in the bushes. The clothes and bare feet were a clear indication that he wasn’t one of the locals - a new arrival?

The boy looked a bit jumpy, so Steve slowed his steps, approaching slowly and deliberately. “Hey,” he said as he drew closer. “You need a jacket? It’s kind of chilly.” If the boy accepted the jacket, there would be a pair of shoes and some fresh socks to follow. At least coming from the laundry could do some good.

“My name’s Steve. What’s yours?”

===

Tobias didn’t cringe outwardly, but he did stay perfectly still a bit longer than might be normal for a human teen as the blonde greeted him with a question and an introduction. These human eyes really suck, he mentally grumbled to himself, having seen the other approaching but not recognizing him till he’d gotten closer. Earlier in the day and watching through solid amber hawk eyes, he could have counted ‘Steve’s nose hairs. If he’d wanted to.

He mentally refocused, snapping the phone ‘off’ and blinking. He had seen the other a few times, coming and going from this building. One of a few regulars Tobias had assumed lived there. So, part of it, then. Whatever ‘it’ was.

He grunted, then pulled himself up slowly, coming to just about the same height as the other. That and he was in ‘running’ attire, and even being a skinny teenager he had seen before signs of breathing problems in this one, maybe asthma. That meant a quick getaway was likely easy if Tobias just took off down the street till he found someplace to hide and morph back.

“Um, yeah. Sorta,” he said uneasily, trying to look more lost than anxious. He wasn’t supposed to look relieved about thinking of flying away, after all. Wasn’t supposed to have been spying on this place or its inhabitants. As far as Steve knew, he was just supposed to be a lost teen, maybe a runaway, looking for help.

“Oh, hi. I’m Tobias,” he said politely, then shrugged a shoulder and folded his arms loosely over his chest, nodding to the House. “Um, that place. Is that like, a church or something? Or a food pantry?”

===

Steve was already pulling out a thick sweater from his bag, and offering it over, while his other hand searched and found a pair of socks and his backup sneakers. “It’s more like a boarding house. Rooms inside for people… who find themselves here without any real rhyme or reason.”

He held out the footwear soon as Tobias had taken the sweater. “Here. We can find you something more your style once you’re warm. Do you need a place to stay?”

The boy was showing all the usual signs of one of the displaced, and was not acting like one of the locals in any way, so it seemed safe to assume he was like Steve - pulled from his own time and place, to this drab and somehow magical speck of a New England town.

Not that everyone saw it as magical, but Steve had come more than 80 years into the future and found a whole family of friends that he hadn’t met yet in his own timeline. And he was once again living with his best friend.

===

Tobias shifted awkwardly as Steve started to pull out his own laundry, having assumed there was a bin of donated hand-me-downs inside somewhere. But, the promise of his own clothes later and another touch of fog-laden breeze on his bare back had him give in. He accepted the sweater carefully, then quickly pulled it on, instantly grateful for the slightly scratchy barrier against the east coast air.

He relaxed slightly and then took the footwear without further hesitation since it was offered, grunting with a soft ‘thanks’ and nodding to the other as he pulled the footwear on, breathing a small sigh of relief.

“So does that happen here a lot?” he said a bit louder, then paused and sideglanced at the last question. That sounded like an offer, and there was no way he was going to take that bait. Scoping out a potential Yeerk charity for some supplies and information was one thing, but he’d have a slug in his brain way before he saw a pillow if he went for that.

“No,” he said too quickly, too emphatically. Then he bit it back, blue-gray eyes widening at his own slip. He coughed and leveled his voice. “No, thanks. I have a place to stay. I just… it was just some help getting some clothes,” he said awkwardly. He averted his gaze quickly, not used to hiding the emotions in his own eyes anymore.

===

Steve chuckled a little at the question, shrugging his bag back into place. “More than you would think,” he answered. “This place is kind of a magnet for the lost and displaced. I came here from 1942.”

The sharp response didn’t seem to faze him. Steve just nodded, made a soft noise of agreement, and gave another slight shrug. “I get it. You don’t know me from Adam. Don’t know anyone here. If you have someplace to stay, and it’s safe, then that’s great. We’ve got clothes and cash and plenty of people who like to cook and make extra food, so if you need anything, the doors are pretty much always open.”

He reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and withdrew his wallet. “Are you hungry? I can show you the burger place. Food’s amazing. Or I can just give you some money to get yourself some food.”

Steve didn’t want to offer charity or pity, just help. If Tobias wanted to do things on his own, that was perfectly fine, but he wasn’t about to let the kid walk away hungry and cold without at least trying to do something about it.

===

The explanation was strange enough, Tobias found himself not doubting it. Besides, he’d seen some pretty weird things recently, and well, it fit. He couldn’t explain how he’d gotten here, himself, having just been soaring and enjoying some warm afternoon thermals one moment and then practically crashing into a blast of air coming from a completely new direction. It had been so startling he didn’t even realize the ground was completely different till a moment after.

“Like… World War 2?” he said a bit lamely.

As Steve seemed to back off, Tobias turned to study him again. His friends had told him he had to stare with predatory intensity these days, but he rarely remembered until they were teasing him about it.

There was something about Steve… his mannerisms, the way his smile reached his eyes. The Yeerks had a front for recruiting willing Controllers called the Sharing, meant to be a social/community group that did charity and worked to help people in need. They had bonfire barbeques and bowling nights, and welcomed the desperate or lonely with impressive dedication and attention to detail. Still, their smiles never reached their eyes. The parasite in control of the human face was incapable of the love or selflessness charity required, that friendship relied on. They had no concept of the emotion, and even Tobias’ fierce hawk eyes couldn’t incite the dread of their soulless gaze. Steve was pretty much the complete opposite of that.

“I…” he hesitated, then looked down and activated the phone screen to check the time. He had just over an hour. Maybe he could still scope the place out? Get a few more answers, at least. The panic of his reaction hadn’t erased what Steve had already explained. “No, it’s not that, it’s just… I mean, I really do have a place to stay, and plenty to eat,” he said, leaving out the ‘warm’ part so he didn’t have to lie. It was warm enough for a bird of prey.

He made himself blink and then nodded to the house. “But maybe I could come check the place out? I wouldn’t mind a snack,” he shrugged slightly. “And you can tell me about being a time traveler or immortal or whatever. ‘42? That’s what, 54 years?” The guy looked like he was barely old enough to go to a bar.

===

“So I hear. We were calling it the second Great War. I guess World War II works a lot better. There must have been plenty of greater wars in history.” He still found it amusing that his time was called the Greatest Generation when it was filled with so much unpleasantness - Nazis were only the most visible evil of the time.

Steve was used to intense stares - he’d been receiving them most of his life. He simply looked back at the young man with the same expression he’d been keeping the whole time; kind concern, polite curiosity, and honesty.

“You can always come back,” he said, smile widening a bit. “Let’s get you a snack. Know what you want? My treat.”

He chuckled at the questions. “Eighty-one years. It’s 2023 here. Which boggles the mind, frankly. I turned a corner there and landed here. Don’t get me started on the phones - I didn’t even have a party line in my building in Brooklyn. Now I have a hand-held computer in my pocket that happens to make phone calls as a bonus.”

===

“Oh, right. I think I remembered that, kinda,” Tobias mumbled. It had been a while since he’d been in school, though he’d been a decent student back in the day.

“Sure,” he nodded, then thought quickly. Human snacks, likely. “Um, you have any potato chips? Do they still have those in the future? I’m from 1996,” he blurted out all at once, then innerly could have slapped himself. Still, he didn’t think he’d let too slip. If Steve was being truthful about them being two of many, it wouldn’t automatically single him out. No more than any other non-local, anyway. Then he paused and looked at Steve, arching a brow. “Did they have them back in ‘42?”

===

Steve’s grin widened. “Oh, and how. They flavor them now. We had deep fried potatoes covered in salt.” He turned with a tilt of his head for Tobias to follow, if the boy chose. “Now you can get them with cheddar, or jalapeno, even pizza flavor.”

He took a small notebook from his pocket. There was a small list, handwritten on the pages. “Is there anything in particular from the 1990s that I should look into? I’ve got some movie and book recommendations, and the moon landing, and a friend gave me some books on civil rights leaders and modern socialism - I still can’t believe that was considered a bad thing - and someone else recommended the Beatles, Nirvana, and Marvin Gaye’s Troubleman for music.” Steve glanced back at Tobias with a slightly embarrassed look. “Nice to know what I’ve missed.”

===

Tobias blinked at the enthusiasm, and made a mental note to mind his fingers around the other and any snacks they did pull up together. He’d always thought he had a healthy appetite until he’d gotten nachos in the food court with Marco and Jake. The gleam in Steve’s eye reminded him more of Ax, though, who was like an insatiable, uncontrollable eating machine when he had a mouth, which was still as funny as it was concerning and horrifyingly conspicuous out in public.

He felt a pang as he thought about his friends. He’d started to miss them with an ache that honestly surprised him, but he hadn’t gone this long without seeing anybody in quite a while.

“Oh, I guess. I mean, it always seemed like it went wrong because of the people, not the idea,” he said. He’d never been interested in politics before. Even now he only was if the Yeerks were trying to target a politician.

He tried to think back. “Nirvana,” he said automatically. It wasn’t his favorite band, but if the guy wanted popular music they came to mind pretty fast. He tilted his head. “That’s a band. Though, there was another called Oasis I liked better. I’m not really sure, the music was sort of weird from the 60’s on.” The guy didn’t really look like a Nirvana type, but who could hate Kurt Cobain? That would practically prove Steve was a Controller. His eyes finally lit up as he remembered one of his favorite mix tapes. “Oh, Simon and Garfunkle though, they’re pretty awesome.”

He felt the breeze, mostly around his legs, then tucked his arms in a bit tighter as he slipped the phone up one slightly baggy sleeve, having no pockets to speak of. “Um, sorry, hard to think. Maybe if we talked inside?”

Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was something nagging at him, a feeling like he was being watched. Standing in the open with weak human eyes and limited fighting or flying options wasn’t helping matters. And anyway, if Steve was being controlled by a Yeerk, the thing deserved whatever equivalent the species had to an Oscar. He was exuding warmth, and earnestness, smiling kindly at Tobias in a way that reminded him of Cassie when she was preparing to help a scared, injured wild animal at her family’s clinic, or the look on Jake’s face when he was standing up to bullies on somebody else’s behalf (a look Tobias had seen frequently). The determination to help, to not look away just because something seemed weird or troublesome. They were some of the most genuinely kind people he’d ever known, but something told him that Steve would fit into their company well.

===

Steve nodded, writing down the names carefully. “Someone else recommended Nirvana, too.” Given the second recommendation, he underlined the band. He opened the shop door as they approached and shifted to the side to let Tobias in first. It was chilly, and even though the boy now had socks and shoes and a sweater, his legs were mostly bare.

“Do you want a coffee or a hot chocolate or something?” he suggested. “Just to warm your bones?”

===

“Yeah? For a reason. But it’s loud,” Tobias couldn’t help the grin, or the warning. Suddenly he remembered all the stereotypes of old people cringing in horror at the ‘modern’. He wondered if Steve would hold the same sentiments, or if it really was an age thing where at some point all you really wanted were old rock songs and traditional hymns.

He followed inside gratefully, even if he hesitated at the threshold. Glancing around quickly he tried to play the fear off as a reaction to the cold, giving a not-entirely shiver of relief as he walked in. Still, it was a closed room. Even managing to make a morph would be tricky, and he didn’t spot an avenue of escape a bird could easily make.

“Hot chocolate?” he wondered out loud. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that. An almost blank look of hope wrote itself across a face unused to hiding emotion. “And chips? Are you for real?”

If Steve was a Yeerk wining and dining him, that was a hard offer to pass up purely on principle.