#anthea being the GOTCHA doesn't sit right with me

[aelitaslittlereminders]

Was it a Trap? - An Aelita fanfic

I did not rewatch the episode this is based on so went off of several years old memory. Why did I feel compelled to write this? Will I post it on Ao3? Dunno. Anyway, enjoy!

Was it a trap? Probably. 

In fact I was 90% certain this was a trap. But just in case we were in the universe that fell into that 10% I had to check.

“See you in a minute, my dear.” The last words he spoke to me on Earth. They stared back at me as text on a now glitching screen.

90% chance Xana was using my emotions to manipulate me.

10% chance I got to see my father again.

I got up and walked to the factory. 

It was cold out. I didn’t really get where the idea of cold being “biting” came from but it sure did sting a little. I realized, partway out the door, that I forgot my coat in my hurry. Oops. It was fine. I could deal with it.

Everyone was going to have such a nice time on their winter breaks, with their families, and… Well, anyways, it made the campus very quiet. I could hear my footsteps echoing out, like I was doing something wrong and I was going to get caught. I actually looked over my shoulder a few times to make sure Jim, or, for some reason, Jeremie, wasn’t around to catch me.

I could handle myself. I could do things on my own. I wasn’t going to bother them.

If that message was the real deal, there wasn’t much time. It was risky to send a communication like that. That was the sort of thing Xana would find and use to track dad down. Into the sewer, into the factory, delayed virtualization and into the inviting scanner.

This was a bad idea. This was probably a trap. I had to do it anyway.

I landed on Lyoko. Ice sector. It had been…quite a while since I’d been here alone. The time I called this place my one and only home felt so far away. As I approached the coordinates I was given, nostalgia of things both remembered and not wracked my brain.

Any second, I expected Jeremie to get on his headset and tell me to turn back, that I was being stupid. I found myself looking over my shoulders more than usual, in case any of the others virtualized here to come after me. And to see if any monsters were around, of course.

No monsters, no friends.

But just ahead, the simulation bubble. I slowed to a stop just short of the bubble’s threshold. There was a lot of vulnerability in stepping into a simulation bubble. You let someone else hijack your senses and decide what it is you experience.

It was ok. I had my wits. I had my exit strategy. It was going to be ok. It was going to really be him.

A new sensation of anxiety. I’d been thinking so hard about “what if it isn’t really him” that I didn’t consider “what if it actually is him?” The idea of my father, the memories of him…what I saw in his video diary. They painted a very strange picture. Of course I wanted to see him…I wanted to see who I remembered. Would he be that? Was I the person he wanted to see?

Would we both just end up disappointed?

I stepped inside.

Snow. The cabin in the mountains where I grew up, before mom…yeah. I looked behind me. I knew there was a wall, but right now it just looked like a continuation of a snowy path. Ahead was the cabin. The snow crunched under my feet with uncomfortable accuracy, and my footprints stayed put as I plodded on toward the cabin.

The music floated toward me, the same song that played on my computer, along with the message to come here. My heart rate spiked, why could I feel my heart here? I broke into a run and flung the door open. I couldn’t help myself. Daddy!

He sat at the piano, back to me, like in so many of my nightmares. He finished the measure and turned, disturbed by the noise. We looked at each other for a moment, and then a warm smile spread across his face and he crossed the room to embrace me.

I froze, for a moment, my breath caught in my throat. Then I melted, I hugged him back and felt tears streaming down my face. That was being simulated, too? After what felt like a long time, but not long enough, he pulled back, hands on my shoulders, and took a long look at me.

“We have much to discuss, my dear.”

“We do.” Of course. This was. We had to discuss strategy while the opportunity presented itself. We couldn’t just. We couldn’t just spend time together.

“Please, take a seat. I made some hot chocolate. Your favorite, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, that’s right. Thank you.” I managed a smile and sat on the soft white couch where she once sat, and flashes of memory lit up my synapses. Christmas presents, playing the piano, late nights waiting up for dad to come home, early mornings seeing him off with a hug and a cup of coffee and…

Well.

There weren’t a lot of good memories to remember. The ones that really stood out were the bad ones, the big dramatic ones. Most of the other stuff was just…gone.

“Aelita?” dad asked, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Yes?”

“You seemed distracted.” He handed me a mug of hot chocolate. I took a sip. It was strange, it wasn’t the taste of hot chocolate, but the memory of the taste. I guessed it was too hard to simulate taste dynamically.

“There’s a lot. Do you mind if I ask before we…talk strategy, are you alright?”

Daddy took a pause, holding his own mug in his hands. Like he was trying to decide how he wanted to answer that question.

“Xana is a dangerous and crafty enemy. It takes all of my intellect just to stay alive. I’m as alright as one can be in that situation. But seeing you, in front of me, alive and safe, is a weight off my shoulders.” I shifted my weight uncomfortably. “Are you alright?”

“I’m about the same.” I said, but then perked up a little. “But! I have my friends. We help each other a lot. Oh, speaking of friends. William-”

“Yes, your friend William. It’s a real shame, what happened to him. How goes your progress in recovering him?”

“Well, right now we’re using our virtual submarine the Skidbladnir to try and track down his location in the digital sea.” I smiled, I was sure he would appreciate that we named the ship after a precious memory.

“The Skidbladnir. What a strange name.” he mused. My heart sank.

“It’s the name of the mythical ship you used to read me stories about.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I must have just forgotten.”

95% chance Xana was using my emotions to manipulate me.

5% chance this was my father.

I had to think and had to think quick. There had to be a way I could check. What was something my dad would know that Xana would not? It would have to be something from before Xana was created that wasn’t in the diary.

Then it came to me! My mother. He avoided talking about her in his video diary. It was probably too much for him. I took in a deep breath, and noticed that there was no scent.

“You know…everything here is perfect, down to the last detail.” I started.

“Why, thank you, I made this all for you.” He gestured around.

“Except for one thing.” I cut him off. He furrowed his brow.

“What would that be?”

“My mother.” That gave him pause, so I continued. “You should know better than anyone how much I want to see her again.” There. If this was Xana, it would back him into a corner, he would make some sort of mistake. Franz frowned, was it really? I didn’t want to be right about it being a trap, but-

“Aelita. You’re asking me to puppet around a hollow image of my wife? Don’t you think that’s a little cruel?”

Oh.

“I’m sorry…” I said, without thinking. I looked over at him. Maybe he really did just forget about the Skidbladnir. It had been a long time since those bedtime stories. I really wanted him to be the real deal. But before I could relax, before I could really and truly talk to him, I had to be sure.

“...Then maybe, instead, you could let me see my big pink teddy bear? You know, the one I always slept with and greeted you at the door with and had tea parties with?”

Another slight hesitation before he spoke,

“Yes. Of course, if that would make you happy. Forgive me if some of the details are incorrect. It has been quite some time.” And he pulled a big pink stuffed teddy bear out from behind the chair he was sitting on and he smiled, satisfied. “There. Now, if we could talk about-”

But there never was a pink teddy bear, and there never were any tea parties. I made it up.

99% chance this was Xana’s trap.

1% chance this was still my father…

“There never was a pink teddy bear.” I said, standing up. “I think I should go.”

I rushed over to the door, and opened it. On the other side, William was waiting. He smirked, grabbing my wrist. From behind, I could hear distorted laughter.

0% chance.