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Amir was taught that labels are bad.
When he was seven years old, a teacher at his school wanted to give Amir something called an assessment. Amir would have to answer lots of questions, but he would also get to play lots of fun games and puzzles. It sounded great.
But his parents said no. Said they didn’t want to be labelled as a bad mother and father. Said that they didn’t want the [Stigma].
Not that that stopped people from giving Amir labels as he got older. [Naughty], [Disruptive] and [Difficult]. And because it was Amir being these labels, his parents punished him when the noises made him scream or the emotions were too big. Which made the noises louder and the emotions bigger. Which made the punishments worse.
That is, when Amir was home.
Amir’s mother rarely wanted him underfoot because he was a [Nuisance], so he had to “go out and play with the other children”. And the other children gave him labels like [Weird], [Freak] and [Ugly]. When Amir played with the other children, it was as their [Victim].
Amir was taught that he wasn’t made to be loved.
The first creature he says “I love you” to is Bunny. He doesn’t remember how he got Bunny, she had just always been there since he was a baby, with her floppy ears and sticked on eyes. [Toy], [Companion] and [Security Blanket].
But Amir was taught that labels are bad, so she was just Bunny. And to her, he was just Amir. And sometimes when his mind was too fast and the world was too much and everything was too everything , Amir would pull Bunny from her hiding place and sit curled up on the floor under a blanket, rocking and humming.
It didn’t stop the world from hurting, but it made him a bit stronger. It slowed down the pain, to pull the blanket over his head like a hood and hide from the everything that is too everything until his mind and the world were at the same speed again.
But then his Father found him. And more labels are given. [Babyish], [Pathetic] and [Weak]. He punished Amir by throwing Bunny in the bin because his son was “too old” for “silly toys”.
He ignored his son beggin, or maybe he enjoyed the tears.
He hates sleeping, because there are always nightmares.
Amir was taught that he didn’t deserve help.
During his last year of Junior High, Amir’s mind became so fast that it finished the loop and became too slow. His body slowed down with it, and there wasn’t enough of anything to get out of bed in the morning. [Lazy], [Stupid] and [Malingering].
He hid in his room, under a blanket, and rocked. Sometimes chewed his thumb knuckle. Sometimes hummed. Until his Father dragged him to school and told him to grow up. Told his teachers to be hard on him.
Amir passed Eighth Grade by the skin of his teeth.
Amir was taught to hide.
And then Amir joined The Hex.
Amir lost a Hell-Scrubber, which is to say that the Scrubber dissolved and techrotted into a creature straight out of War of the Worlds that he, Aoi and Marty barely manage to bring down. And Amir says nothing as Quincy shouts at him [Liability] and as Arthur glares at him [Disappointment] and he feels Eleanor start to touch his mind and he mentally screams until she disconnects because he is not [Babyish] and he knows that he doesn’t deserve to be helped.
It was just too much today. He couldn’t keep up. He wasn’t fast enough. Just like he wasn’t/won’t be fast enough on New Year’s Eve. [Stupid].
He waits until The Mall is quiet, and then he runs away from it all.
There’s an area of The Mall where the Techrot has eaten away at the floor, allowing access to the basement. It’s heavily infested. Cold. Damp. Smelly. Because of that, no one goes down here, so Amir knows he will be alone.
He sits under the slightly torn blanket, and covers his head to hide from the world. In that safe little bubble, he hums.
He doesn’t suck his thumb knuckle. The warframe carapace is too uncomfortable against his teeth.
[Naughty], [Disruptive], [Difficult], [Weird], [Disappointment], [Freaky], [Ugly], [Victim], [Disappointment], [Babyish], [Pathetic], [Weak], [Liability], [Disappointment], [Difficult] and [Weird]
“There you are. ” Eleanor kneels down in front of him, her hair free from its ponytail to instead fall in beautiful loose tresses around her face and shoulders, framing the blue glow of her eyes. “ Why are you hiding down here, Amir?”
[Naughty], [Disruptive], [Difficult], [Weird], [Disappointment], [Freaky], [Ugly], [Victim], [Disappointment], [Babyish], [Pathetic], [Weak], [Liability], [Disappointment], [Difficult] and [Weird]
“You are none of those things .” She holds out her hand for him to take. “ Come on, Little One.”
[Little One]. A label, a nickname, but also a promise flooding Amir’s mind with droplets.
[Tired?], [Hurt?], [Cold?] and [Frightened?]
Amir doesn’t answer the tiny questions out loud. Words are too hard. But he does think about the answers and he does take her hand, letting Eleanor gently guide him to his feet, still under the blanket and now also her arm wrapped around him.
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
“Can you feel that? ” Eleanor chuckles as she speaks. “ I’m giving your brain a hug. And you know, you can have one whenever you need it. You just ask.”
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
They sit on the sofa in Eleanor’s furniture store, Amir’s threadbare blanket replaced with a heavy throw that feels like a cloud against his skin and carapace. Eleanor’s powers are another blanket around his brain, and she hums with him in his mind while they watch the television together.
He doesn’t remember sleeping, because there are no nightmares.
There is nothing more dangerous on the planet of Earth than a bored Quincy. And a bored Quincy is why Amir’s room is currently full of packing peanuts.
And Amir laughs even as anxiety hits his stomach because his room is a mess and…no, Momma and Father aren’t here. They’re back in the USL, far away. Far away.
He’s distracted by Aoi running past them and diving into the chaos like a child diving into a ball pit, picking up a handful and throwing it at Amir like it is snow. “Come on, it’s fun.”
And Amir tapes cardboard to the bottom of the door as a barrier, and Quincy joins in, and it is fun. Amir laughs, and shouts, and Kalymos has the time of her life making little tunnels in the peanuts and for that beautiful afternoon they are not soldiers in a fight against an apocalypse, but three friends and a cat just free from responsibility and darkness. The world is full of fun and laughter and packing peanuts, and the world ends at Amir’s bedroom door.
[Fun], [Laughing] and [Playful]
And for a while, Amir doesn’t worry about whether he's a liability tolerated out of pity or not. He doesn’t find himself immediately panicking about something he’s said, or overthinking Aoi and Quincy the way a detective might overthink a crime scene, in case he’s done something [Weird]. He just relaxes in the moment, because these are his friends, his siblings laughing and playing with him.
And if they can do that then maybe, just maybe, Amir was made to be loved.
And then the energy drink fuelled high spikes and comes back down again, and Amir crashes into the peanuts with a boneless thud, eyes drooping as he curls up on his side against the flurry.
“Too much fun today, Cuz?” Quincy winks at him before pulling him to his feet. “Bed’s under all this mess, innit. Come on, got a sofa in my room. But you snore, and you’re out on your arse.”
“I don’t snore.” Amir mumbles, petulantly.
Quincy lays Amir onto his bed, not the sofa, and the sniper tucks a duvet around him while Amir looks at the pictures on the wall.
“Did you take those?” He asks, a sense of childlike wonder in his voice.
“Yeah.” Quincy nods, looking over the photos.
“I like that one?” Amir points.
Quincy grins. “Got real lucky with the light that day.” He takes the photo down and hands it to Amir. “Real lucky.”
Amir studies the photo while Kalymos curls up at the foot of the bed, purring when Quincy scratches her between the ears. Then he pulls a box out from under the bed, sorting through and picking out a cassette tape.
“You mind this? Helps me sleep.” The tape goes into the cassette player with a loud click. “Been learning space facts to impress Marty with.”
A soft female voice fills the room while Quincy settles himself on the couch.
“ Venus has what is known as a retrograde rotation. This means that, if you were to stand on the surface of the planet, you would see Sol rise in the west, and set in the east. You would be waiting a long time to see it though. It takes 243 Earth days for Venus to finish a rotation. In fact, the solar days on Venus are so long that they are longer than a year. It only takes 225 Earth Days for Venus to complete an orbit of Sol. ”
“Do you think Marty’s watched Sol rise on Venus?”
“Go to sleep , Amir.”
“I bet it’s amazing.”
“Another planet with an unusual rotation is Uranus. The axial tilt of this planet is 98 degrees, meaning that Uranus doesn’t orbit so much as roll around Sol.
Amir giggles at the mental image. “It’s playing roly poly.”
“Amir!”
“Sorry.” He curls onto his side under the duvet, putting the photo on the bedside table. [Nuisance]
“Nah, Fam. You’re okay. I put the tape on. Just been an active day, yeah. Need my beauty sleep.” Quincy looks at the ceiling, mumbles something that might be a prayer to Sol, then turns back to Amir. “You know, Marty’s got a fancy Orrery in their room. Maybe they’ll let us study it tomorrow. I’ll practice showing off my facts with you.”
“That would be...”
” If you go to sleep now.”
Amir smiles, and closes his eyes.
“Venus’s thick atmosphere is over 95% carbon dioxide…”
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
He doesn’t remember sleeping, because there are no nightmares.
Quincy keeps his promise the next day, and they watch the planets slowly spin round and round.
“Got a little brother, Lua has.” Quincy points at the gap just past Earth’s moon. “3753 Cruithne. Bet they drive Lua as mad as you drive me.” He ruffles Amir’s hair, and the younger man giggles and watches the Orrery spin round and round and round.
[Brother]
Quincy grins. “Guessing Cruithne is some fancy space hotel in the year 1999-99.”
Marty shakes their head. “Actually it’s a Grineer Ship Killer Platform.”
Quincy winces. “Not as cool, Cuz.”
Next to him, Amir’s eyes light up. “A Ship Killer . So it’s like a huge Space Cannon?”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“Wow.”
The stormfall units are called and Quincy shoots one out of the sky. The doomed soldier lands next to Amir, and he hears every bone snap against the concrete. Eyes open, screaming silently, fixed on Amir.
All the eyes are looking at Amir.
He screams as lightning explodes from his hands, hitting Arthur. Killing Arthur. Hollow melting eyes staring at Amir.
Blaming Amir.
And he’s surrounded and surrounded and it’s too much and everything is too everything and his heart is blasting against his chest THUD THUD THUD and he can’t take a breath he needs to take a breath it’s too loud and too fast and too everything and he can’t…and … … calm.
He finally takes a deep breath, feeling it fill his lungs inch by inch, a tingly sensation starting in the base of his skull and spreading down and up his spine.
“Amir .” Marty’s voice is both being heard and being felt. “ It’s okay. I’m just going to breathe for you for a bit. There we go.”
He doesn’t feel fear. He doesn’t feel anything. It’s…calm. And his heart is slowing down.
“Marty? Are you inside me?”
”Sorry. I’ve seen The Kid do this to help Umbra before. I should have asked but…”
“It’s okay.” Amir says. “Thank you.”
“Amir?” Arthur’s voice, and there he is at the foot of the stairs…the stairs? When did Amir get to the forecourt? He was in the arcade…
Amir feels himself take another deep breath. A burst of static, and then the Drifter is standing in front of him, dressed in pyjamas, a hand against his chest and another on his shoulder.
“I think it was a panic attack.” Marty says to Arthur. “Must have been one hell of a nightmare.”
Arthur nods, stepping to one side to allow Lettie to pass him and place her hand on Amir’s other shoulder, and there’s the familiar warm glow of her Blessing ability, as comforting as it is helpful. It makes Amir feel sleepy, and for a second the only thing holding him up are Marty and Lettie.
Arthur approaches, posture confident. “Thank you for helping him, Drifter. We’ll take it from here.”
“No problem.” Marty nods, giving Amir’s shoulder one last squeeze. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Arthur repeats, before turning back to Amir as Marty climbs the stairs to their room. At least that is what Amir thinks must be happening. He has his eyes shut and his gaze fixed down.
Because he’s having nightmares? Really? Like a little child?
He hasn’t been through anything that Arthur hasn’t been through. That Lettie hasn’t been through. But unlike them he’s [Pathetic] and [Weak].
He can feel it scratching at his mind, the need to hide. The need to just crawl under the blanket and hum. His skin itches with the need, and he scratches at his arm.
“Shh. Stop that, niño .” Lettie whispers. “You’re hurting yourself.” She rests her gloved hand over the carapace, and the pain from the scratches fades.
“Do you need to feel pain, Amir?” Arthur asks, calmly.
He shakes his head, eyes still closed because he doesn’t want to see how much of a [disappointment] he is.
He’s on the edge. He is glass making that crick crick crick noise it makes before it shatters. A computer on a blue screen.
“Maybe you need to run off some energy.” Arthur asks. “We could go out with you on the tommys.”
Lettie laughs. “Don’t think my tommy can keep up with Gonzales at full speed.”
Would they do that, just let him run? But why go with him? To keep an eye on him? To keep him safe? [Safe].
“If not that.” Arthur steps closer, and his voice grows softer. “Amir, can you show Eleanor what you need, if the words are too hard?” Arthur takes Amir’s hands, holding them safely between his own against his chest.
Amir is trembling now, he just wants to hide. Hide. Hide. Hide. And Lettie’s hand is stroking through his hair and he opens his eyes, still staring at the floor. It’s all fuzzy, he left his glasses in the arcade, and his eyes let go of the first few tears.
And once they start, they don’t stop. As Arthur pulls him into a proper hug and Lettie strokes his hair and Eleanor brushes against his mind.
“You don’t need to hide this, Amir.” The telepath whispers, softly. “You won’t be punished Little One, I promise.”
Amir turns his face into Arthur’s chest, and the hug tightens. He feels Arthur nod against his head, perhaps confirming something with Eleanor.
“Amir?” Arthur says, eventually. “Do you remember the day we met? When we sat in the alley.”
Lettie’s hand slows in his hair, but doesn’t leave his scalp.
Amir trembles again, but then steps slightly out of the hug, holding up his shaking hand to just touch the scarred side of Arthur’s face.
A kind gaze meets his. “Not that part. Afterwards, when we sat together in the alley?”
“That’s how I found you.” Lettie smiles. “Arthur was holding you, and you were fast asleep, niño .”
Arthur looks down at him. “Let’s sit like that again for a while. Lettie and I have been catching up on old times tonight.”
“And drinking cerveza .” Lettie chuckles.
“But you don’t have to listen or talk if you don’t want to.” Arthur promises. “Just sit with us. Come on, Little One.”
And there it is. That same nickname Eleanor used. That promise . [Little One]. That understanding that Amir is not a child, but sometimes he wishes he was free from the weight of adulthood, just for a while.
He walks between them, losing time until he is on the sofa in Arthur’s room, curled up with the leader’s chest as a pillow and a heavy blanket cocooning him. Hiding him.
Lettie sits on the coffee table in front of them, giving Amir one last quick study, and another Blessing that makes him even sleepier than before.
“Lettie.” Arthur’s voice is quiet. “Would you mind fetching Sebastian?”
“ ¿El osito de peluche? Sure.” Lettie grins at him, and then disappears into the corner of the room, returning a moment later with a small teddy bear.
“Thank you.” Arthur takes the bear, holding it in front of Amir. “My little secret, Amir. I like to talk to Sebastian here when I have things to get off my chest. He’s a very good listener.” He rests the bear against Amir’s chest. “And you don’t even have to talk out loud. He’s like Eleanor, he can hear your thoughts. So you tell him about those nightmares you’ve been having. And then maybe later, if you’re feeling up to it, you can tell us about them.”
Lettie nods.
Amir holds the bear in a tight hug while Arthur adjusts the blanket, hiding Sebastian and also making a hood for Amir, a hood large enough to droop down and hide his face.
And that’s…it. Amir sits under the hooded blanket. Arthur and Lettie talk about old combat units, missions both crazy and humorous. Laughing at good memories and groaning as they recall bad ones. Beer is drunk and Arthur’s chest rumbles under Amir’s ear whenever he laughs.
The hacker is not encouraged or forced to join in. Lettie offers him a drink but does not push the point when he shakes his head. He’s warm, safe, and allowed to just float. Free from the responsibility, pressure and pain of the adult world beyond this little bubble Arthur has built for him.
He hums under his breath, holding a bear who will never replace Bunny but now does the same job. He says I love you in his mind, where Sebastian can hear it.
He kisses the top of the bear’s head, and closes his eyes, and continues to float. Every now and again, Arthur rubs his back. Every now and again, Lettie gives him a Blessing.
Amir was taught that labels are bad, so he doesn’t give a label to this.
But he does think that if he did, it would be something that his inner child has yearned for for a long time. [Acceptance], [Love], [Family].
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
[Sleep], [Comfort], [Warm] and [Safe]
He doesn’t remember sleeping, because there are no nightmares.
[Little One]