#or it'll give me a route and say actually some of these roads are closed and there's no other route so good luck

[killerchickadee]

The GPS on my phone is fucking bonkers, man. Like idek what it's doing half the time.

Me: driving down eastbound I-94.

My GPS:

The route I'm on is faster than the route I'm on? Which is currently sideways for some reason? It keeps doing this and it's baffling and mildly annoying when I'm driving on a route I know, but INCREDIBLY frustrating when I'm, say, driving in Chicago and don't know where I am.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 5)

[Donnie x fem reader]

sfw, chapt. 4 here

Just as Donnie had predicted, the night air was cold on his scales. Right upon leaving, Mikey brought up to Leo going in pairs this time, to cover more ground, he said. An extra thorough patrol. Donnie honestly couldn't make up his mind and so by then he was flying by the seat of his pants, not objecting to Mikey's plan, but also not agreeing. He doubted Leo would be convinced, anyway. They didn't do duo patrols that often. 

"I was thinking we could split up this time, you know, me and Donnie, you and Raph?" suggested Mikey, closing the manhole behind himself.

"I thought you liked it when we're all together," Leo commented. 

Donnie shot Mikey a look, trying to tell him to cool it, but he shrugged, "Come on, it'll be like some kind of training or...something," Mikey went behind Leo and shook his shoulders, "aren't you into that?"

Internally, Donnie facepalmed. Unless he actively tried to stop this, it was going to happen, wasn't it? One way or another, probably; it all depended on how Leo was feeling that night. Raph was indifferent. He didn't care whether they were all together or in pairs, just that he got to flex his combat skills some. If he could, he'd go out and do it on his own, even. 

Leo looked around, considering Mikey's suggestion. "Okay," he agreed, eventually. "You and Donnie take East, Raph and I will cover the usual route and then—" 

"No," Mikey interjected. Both Leo and Raph's brows furrowed as they stared at their brother. He motioned toward Donnie, "Me and Donnie can take that, you guys just go on ahead," he smiled. "You know I like checking out the skatepark!" 

"No skating," Leo said. 

"I'll just watch whoever's there, then." He pouted.

Raph snorted. "Yeah, make sure he actually pays attention, Donnie." 

"As usual," Donnie sighed, and looked at Leo. 

"Well, what do you think, Don?" 

The decision is up to me? 

Turns out it was his all along, but he wanted to feign innocence in saying that Mikey was the one to drag him through it. Easier to not take responsibility and let life happen at you rather than making a conscious effort, at times. 

"I guess we can do that," Donnie answered reluctantly. He could have said no. Why didn't he? In the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey beam, giving him a discreet thumbs up. 

"Alright, meet back here by four AM, and if either of you run into big trouble, call. We'll come," Leo said. "Same for us."

"Yeah, we'll holler for ya," added Raph dismissively. "And nah, a big dog doesn't count as trouble, Mikey." He sounded gruff, but in actuality, he was still chuckling to himself over that years later. After they got over being annoyed that he had called them from that far while they were on a supply run. Chased by a junkyard dog—some of their least favorite parts about visiting those places. 

"Hey, it was mean! And way fast!" Mikey protested as they parted ways, them taking to the East and red and blue the opposite way. 

As per course, Donnie and Mikey took their normal route, and his heart skipped a beat when they met the scene of their last run-in with criminals. Not because of them, no, but because of the familiar apartment building that was now more intimidating than he'd expected. They circled the area like they normally would have, but Mikey came to stop them on a roof just opposite of the complex, eyes searching each window. Obscured by the height of the building, he sat on the edge. 

Donnie didn't know what to do with himself. He stood back a good ten feet, somehow paranoid of being spotted even though he knew it was not possible from their angle in the complex. Mikey was comfortable, and weirdly at peace as he sat there quietly on the edge, assumed to be waiting for his brother to make a move. But Donnie was stuck in place. 

"What are you waiting for, D?" 

The sudden question broke him from his stillness. It was true; he didn't know what he was waiting for. 

"I—I don't know what you want me to do, what are you thinking?" Donnie asked in return, stepping back a little further as he noticed movement behind the curtains of a lit window. 

"Get your phone out and talk to her," Mikey told him, waving his hand at the apartments. "What did we come out here for if you aren't gonna make it right, bro? Do some smooth talk, tell her you're sorry and you wanna get to know her better…"

"This is absolutely a ridiculous plan," Donnie said, though as if his hands had thought of their own, they reached for his phone, and a moment later he was looking at the messages. Still nothing. Radio silence on both of their ends. How would he approach it? "I'm sorry I went from hot to cold so fast. Please talk to me again." Too strong. "Sorry, can we get a redo?" Too casual. "I'd like to apologise for being a jerk." Okay, that's just not good. Reconciling was going to be as difficult as he'd thought it would be. 

Mikey came over and looked at his phone screen and his brother floundering, thumbs stuttering across the keyboard, deleting the text, retyping it over and over again for perfection where he wasn't going to find any–

"I got this, let Love Doctor Mikey handle it," he said, taking the phone right from Donnie's hand. 

"You've never been in a relationship, not even talked to anyone, how would you—" 

Mikey shushed him. Donnie was going to snatch the phone away but he spun around, draping himself over his shoulder.  "Just let me work my magic, dude!"  

Donnie couldn't watch; he had to turn away. How sure he was that Mikey was going to say something uncalled for, something weird or bone-headed, and the wait was killing him. What if she didn't even respond? Was that better than doing damage control for Mikey's shenanigans? For someone usually decisive, he could not for the life of him make up his mind about what he wanted at that very instance. 

The phone vibrated. 

Mikey cheered. "Got her on the line, now you just gotta reel 'em in," he grinned, handing the phone back to Donnie. 

"Hey :/

I thought you wanted to stop?"

Mikey kept trying to lean over to catch a glimpse of the screen, but Donnie felt that it was a personal moment, so without skipping a beat, he activated the electric current in his staff and poked it behind him into his brother's plastron. 

"Fine," Mikey whined. He stepped in one last time, "But don't hold out on me here!" 

Trying to find an graceful way to patch this all up, Donnie replied: 

"I apologise for that, and I know you probably want an explanation, but it's hard to explain

Moment of weakness? 

I guess... 

Anyway. I'm not expecting you to suddenly be cool with it, if you don't want to talk to me I understand 

Sorry."

Mikey noticed Donnie's dismal expression and he mellowed out accordingly, standing close but not putting a hand on him, nor saying anything. He didn't watch the phone, but Donnie's face and slumped shoulders. He'd thought it would have been going better by now. 

"I won't lie, I'm still confused 

But if you're going through something, I'm right here for you

Don't worry about it. Just don't give me a spook like that again, I thought it was me  

lol 

Okay it's not funny but this is a little awkward" 

Donnie's heart sank reading that. He'd made her feel bad, even question herself over his problem. Never had he wanted to make her think it was her that drove him off. 

"No, no, it was never you 

Again, I can't really explain…

Is it okay if we just try this again? 

I understand if not."

"Jeez Bo, I already said it's alright 

I WANT to keep talking to you, you're cool

So let's forget about it, yeah? 

Friends again :) "

And like that, his heart took a leap. A smile slowly spread across his face, and without looking away from the screen, grabbed Mikey by the shell, pulling him toward. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. 

"You see it too?" he quirked, pointing at the apartment complex across the road. 

Donnie paused and looked over his shoulder at him, "What?" 

On one of the balconies sat a lone girl, on her phone, and if Mikey looked hard enough, he could see a smile. Definitely a smile. 

"Ah!" yelped Donnie quietly. He scurried back against the wall of the attached building behind him, as far as he could. 

"Dude! Come on, this is perfect!" Mikey nudged him, and when he didn't hop up onto his feet, dragged his brother near the edge of the roof. Donnie was boneless but unwilling, his mind stuck on the fact that she thought he was cool. Him, cool. Was he? She didn't know even the half of it. She didn't know he was a martial artist, technically a genius, and that he'd gone against some of the worst the city had to offer. And without that, she still thought he was cool, as an average guy. 

As average as what my circumstances will allow me to be. 

Feet dragging all the way, Donnie's stomach did a flip as they met the ledge, peering carefully over it in a crouch. They were prone, watching the girl who was completely unaware of their presence. He was, simply put, enraptured, for a second there, studying her features as much as he could from where they were. The details of her face were not distinct due to the distance, but he could tell she was both nothing like he'd imagined and so much more. For once, he didn't immediately question the validity of the situation; there was no "it could be a coincidence", or "it's too unlikely that she would be out just as they were". Not right away. But it hit him when Mikey spoke. 

"You're so lucky, D," he said wistfully. "Really." Head rested on his forearm, his gaze fell on not one thing, but the whole scene, a somber smile gracing him. He was excited, happy for his brother. But deep down, Donnie knew that though Mikey wasn't envious of him in a resentful way, it had to have stung to witness such a thing unfold for someone not himself. Their youngest had always craved connection the most. He looked away from the girl, "I wasn't gonna let you throw away an awesome chance, was I?"

Releasing a heavy breath, Donnie crawled away from the edge, but his eyes remained on that balcony. It was weird to watch someone who didn't know they were being watched. Not in that context. 

"I...guess I may be," Donnie responded. But it would only get more complicated from there. His phone vibrated, breaking his trance, and the message he found read:

"Anyways, with that out of the way, what are you doing?"

Just watching you from a roof, nothing much, Donnie thought. 

"Currently out enjoying the night" 

"Isn't it kinda cold?" 

"What about you?" 

He knew what he meant, because he was there watching her as a chilled breeze rolled through, but she told him she wasn't doing anything. Only relaxing and talking to him. 

It took him a few minutes to get his bearings. To know that he now had tangible evidence that she was a girl, an ordinary person, and that said person really thought he was cool. Worth the effort. He felt exceedingly difficult for not being able to give her a rightful explanation, but comforted by the fact that he wasn't being demanded of one. He felt light. Almost weightless, with Mikey next to him instead of his other cynical, skeptical brothers. For a moment, he had nothing to worry about. 

From across the roof, he could still see the yawn escape her mouth. Probably an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He didn't want her to stay up too late; it was already odd that she was up at such an hour, almost two AM, but glad nonetheless. 

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah

I think I'm gonna hit the hay

So goodnight, Bo

Talk to you later (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞" 

She got up, leaning on the railing which faced them. 

"I want to stay up with you but—"

Donnie sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up, just barely able to see from underneath the balcony above her. He snagged the strap on Mikey's shell and yanked him back with him away from the edge of the roof, taking cover behind the wall. 

"Shit," hissed Donnie, "do you think she saw us?" 

These shells, they make us look so big! 

"Relax, bro, even if she did, it was only a little bit. Besides, we could be anyone from this far, they don't have pigeon vision." 

"You mean 'eagle vision'?" 

"They're both birds!"

Donnie deadpanned and peeked over the wall. She'd gone in. Three minutes later, he hadn't gotten any texts yet about something weird on the rooftops, so he could finally relax, groaning lightly. "Too close," he breathed out, "Mikey, we need to go, Leo's going to notice we're not back in time if we don't hurry up and get the rest of this route done."

"Already on it," he whooped, vaulting onto the next roof.

As Donnie was scaling the wall of the attached building, he felt his phone vibrate, and curious, he checked it one last time before getting on his way.

"One question before I go

You ever see stuff you can't explain but even if you did you'd sound crazy?"

Oh, no.

"No, I don't."

Chapter 6

[local-cry-baby]

It's A Promise (Barry x Reader)

so sinnoh remakes (and premakes?!) has been confirmed and of course the first thing I had to do was write a short fic on one of my favorite rival of all time

Sorry but I had to ten year old me had a massive crush on this character lol

writing; short story

word count; 2781

genre; friendship & hurt/comfort (very subtle romance)

reader; gender neutral

au; takes place after the events of DPPt (also Barry has freckles if that counts)

summary; your plans for summer has been hijacked by a certain hyperactive boy

Image

Half asleep you heard the Starlys chirp and trill and the Kricketots chime in harmony with one another, announcing the arrival of morning. You shifted slightly in bed, pulling the covers closer to you and yawned. The best feeling in the world you believe was hearing the sound of the world rousing to the start of a new day and knowing you didn't have to wake up along with it. With a content sigh you roll on your side, slowly drifting off to sleep...

Tap! Tap! Tap!

You furrow your brows slightly at the sound but quickly relaxed, smiling softly to yourself...

TAP! TAP! TAP!

You assume it was just a Starly or two messing outside your window so you chose to ignore it, opting to pull the covers over your head. You sighed again, this time in annoyance, as you try to fall asleep...

Click! Scree!

"Psst! (Y/N), are you sleeping?"

Your eyes open in disbelief as you immediately recognize the voice and just process the fact that he happen to somehow open your bedroom window to ask the obvious. 'Say it ain't so.’ You turned to face your window to see Barry there, arms resting on top of the sill as he watched you with a curious expression which was soon beaming with excitement once he saw you. "Oh good, you're awake!" Like you weren't sleeping to begin with.

"Wha? Barry what are you doing here?" You asked groggily. "Aren't you suppose to be at Pastoria City with Wake?"

"It's summer, duh! Crasher Wake gave me the week off and since your school is closed for vacation I thought it was perfect to catch up and hang out together this week!" Barry had this lively vibe around him that practically made him glow like a ray of sun leaving you dizzy with exhaustion. You plop back in bed with a groan knowing your plans to sleep in till afternoon for the whole week was ruined. "So at first I was thinking of going to the Great Marsh like we use to for old time sake" Barry began as he climbed right in sitting at your windowsill. "But I heard today would reach the hottest temperature ever in Sinnoh history!"

"Really now?" You asked in a monotonous voice. How hot can it possibly be in the coldest region in the world.

"Get this, 72 degrees! Can you believe it?!" As someone who was born and raised in Hoenn, a region where temperatures can reach up to the high 90s during the late summer you weren't exactly impressed. "So change of plans! We're going to spend the day at Sandgem Beach so pack your things!"

You glanced at the digital clock on your bedside. It read 6:22AM. "Barry it's too early! Can't we go like at 10 or something?"

"No way! We have to go now otherwise it'll be full if we go any later!"

"When is Sandgem Beach ever full!? You can barely even call it a beach!" You turned away from your friend, wrapping yourself up in your blanket. You were not getting out of this bed.

"Come on (Y/N)!" Barry whined. "We haven't hung out in so long! I literally spent all night planning this week out and you're just going to turn me down?! If Lucas and Dawn were here they would've agreed in going!" You can hear the irritation in his voice but underneath it was a hint of dejection. Shortly after your journey with the trio came to an end things changed. Dawn moved to the Kalos region a year ago to continue her study on Pokemon and just a few months afterwards Lucas left to Unova for reasons unknown though you had a hunch that it had something to do with that officer Looker. Barry spend most of his days at Pastoria’s gym, training intensely with Crasher Wake. As for you your parents never supported your dreams of becoming a Pokemon Trainer and your battling skills were left to be desired so you dropped it to continue your studies and follow a more reasonable career.

Although you didn't look at him you can feel him gazing at you, presumably with a pout or with Lillipup eyes. You groaned in defeat. "Fine."

Barry barely let you finish your sentence as he responded, "Really? Awesome! Don't forget to bring your Pokemon along with you, alright? And don't show up late otherwise I'll fine you!" With that he jump out your window and let out a yelp. "Don't worry! I'm alright!"

You sighed, wondering how anyone could have so much energy so early in the morning as you practically dragged yourself out of bed to start the day.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Sandgem Town was quiet, the majority of the residents still asleep or just starting their day. You haven’t been in Sandgem in quite a while yet walking down the somewhat familiar road invoked a nostalgic feeling. You paused, looking at the houses on the street till you spot the familiar lab down the road. Professor Rowan’s lab. It almost felt like yesterday when you took your first step through Route 201 alongside your friends Lucas and Barry (although the latter practically raced his way there) to get here with your first Pokemon, Riolu. You couldn't help but smile at the memory before going on your way to Sandgem Beach. And, as you predicted, it was empty saved for Barry.

He stood at the edge of the boardwalk, his back facing you as he perform some stretching exercise. His team was already out of their Pokeballs, enjoying themselves. Infernape was meditating, Roserade, Snorlax, and Staraptor were sunbathing, Floatzel was swimming, and Heracross was attempting to bury itself in the sand, seeking warmth. Taking out three Pokeballs from your belt you released your team: Lucario, Lopunny, and Vaporeon. Your Pokemon looked around their surroundings before glancing up at you in surprise. When was the last time you actually brought them somewhere that wasn't home or your school’s campus? “Go on you guys. Have fun!” With that said your Pokemon went off to do their own thing.

Lucario sat beside Inferape, joining it in meditation and Lopunny bounded excitedly over to its long time crush, Roserade, the Bouquet Pokemon vastly annoyed that its peace was disrupted as it escaped from its crushing grip. Lastly, Vaporeon decided to take a swim, dipping into the ocean and blending itself into its surroundings, disappearing from sight.

The commotion between Lopunny and Roserade caught Barry's attention as he looked over to notice you. "Too slow!" He yelled running over to you. Not even giving you a chance to say something he grabs your arm and drags you over to the boardwalk. Once he lets go he begins to take off his shirt.

"Ready for what?" You asked.

“Barry!” You never saw your friend shirtless before so you couldn't help but feel flustered. Though he didn’t seem to care as he carried on anyways. As you assumed, Barry had a lean figure, what you didn't expect however was the amount of freckles he had. Although Barry had freckles dusting his cheeks and nose they were barely noticeable compared to the ones on his back and shoulders which were far more prominent. Realizing you were staring longer then normal you quickly turned away, trying to hide the awkward blush.

Luckily, Barry didn't notice. "Ready?"

"To swim!"

You look down at the blue water before dipping a bare foot in. It was ice cold. "It's freezing!" You exclaimed.

"It's not that bad!"

"Thanks but I pass" you said, waving a hand dismissively.

Barry pouted but it was soon replaced with a mischievous smile. "Alright then, suit yourself." He said, surprising you. Barry wasn't one to easily let things go without trying to convince you first. He's up to something, you know it. You were about to ask but he had already left your side as he jump right into the water, splashing you head to toe causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips from the sudden shock of being doused in icy water. Barry pop back up to the surface with a triumphant smirk, his bright eyes gleaming with playfulness.

"You suck!" You yelled causing him to laugh as he dived back underwater. Soaked to the bone there really was no point in staying out of the water in hopes of drying off soon, not with this cold breeze that made it impossible to warm up. You remove your hoodie and shorts revealing your (color) swimsuit before setting them down on the boardwalk and slipping into the water. Since you were already cold the frigid water didn't get to you, feeling more welcoming then before.

You looked around for your rival, trying to spot the blonde in the murky water but only saw his Floatzel which was lazily floating around. "Barry?” Something suddenly grabbed onto your ankle causing you to scream in surprise and flailing to get away, kicking away whatever touched you.

Barry appeared right beside you, clutching his left cheek. "Ow! Seriously?! You just kicked my face!"

"Well you shouldn't have grabbed me like that!" You said. He only stick his tongue out at you before swimming over to the boardwalk, crossing his arms and resting his head atop of it. You watched him as he stared up at the blue sky with a content expression, droplets of water clinging on to his hair as it shined in the morning light. Seeing him like this gave you the same flustered feeling from before. You couldn't quite wrap your head around as to why though. You’ve known him since kindergarten. So why all of a sudden you felt awkward around him?

"What’s up?" You didn’t even realize that he had stopped gazing up at the sky in favor of looking at you.

“What do you mean?” You said, turning elsewhere though it was in vain since he already caught you this time around.

“You were staring at me just now. It was pretty weird.” You try to think of something to say, mainly to defend yourself but to your relief he changed the subject. “So how’s school?”

You shrugged. “It’s alright. Senior year isn’t difficult compared to the other years since we’re more focused on applying for college.”

“Do you know where you want to go?” You noticed his words were a bit quiet and reserved unlike his usual chipper and noisy self.

“Well I was hoping to go to University of Unova since it’s known for having the best (career) course” you explained. “Though my parents aren’t too keen on me going that far so I might just stick to Goldenrod University.”

“I know that but...” He trailed off for a moment, thinking of what to say. “Can’t you just go to Canalave College instead?”

“Goldenrod!?” Barry’s sudden sharp tone made you flinch. “Why so far?” He was looking at you with a hurt expression that made you feel guilty despite the fact you didn’t do anything wrong. At least, you felt like you did nothing wrong.

“Well compared to Unova which is practically halfway across the world. Johto is just south of Sinnoh.”

“Barry, Canalave College doesn’t even have programs on what I’m going for.”

“Ugh, this is why I’ve always hated school” Barry grumbled, letting go of the boardwalk just to sink further into the water leaving just his eyes visible to you, glaring down at nothing in particular. He almost resembled that of a pouting child.

You didn’t understand why he was so upset about your plans or why he was trying to make you change your college decisions. Unless… “You don’t want me to leave?”

Barry barely let you finish your sentence as he quickly got up. “It’s not that!”

“Then what’s the problem?” You pressured.

At this point Barry wasn’t even looking at you, opting to just randomly glance around the area. “There is no problem! It’s just...” With a sigh he finally looked at you. Honey colored eyes stared at your (e/c) ones, his cheeks gaining a bright shade of pink. “I thought even though Lucas and Dawn left at least I still have you around.”

You couldn’t help but frown. You didn’t realize just how attached Barry was to you and the others until now. Naturally you felt bad but you certainly couldn’t change your plans for him either as much as it hurts you to see him like this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would be this upset about it but it’s just how it is. Eventually we have to go our own way to live our lives. Right now you’re training with Crasher Wake to become one of the best Pokemon Trainer ever. At some point you’re going to leave Sinnoh to follow that dream, right?” He remained silent but nodded in response. “Just because we’re not going to be together like old times doesn’t mean we’re no longer friends. You’ll always be my best friend no matter what.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I was being over dramatic.” You couldn’t help but smile when you saw his expression brighten. That was until he started giggling leaving you perplexed.

“Huh? What’s so funny?” You asked

“Sorry I just found the whole ‘you’ll always be my best friend’ bit kind of cheesy.”

“I was trying to cheer you up you douche!” You snapped unable to control your blush of embarrassment as Barry continued laughing. Seeking petty revenge you bought your fingers to your lips and let out a sharp whistle. Without warning your Vaporeon splashed out between you both before spouting water right in his face. He sputtered in surprise as he attempted to shield himself.

“So that’s how it’s going to be huh?” He challenged before calling for his Floatzel who immediately appeared by his side. Already getting the cue of what was going on the Pokemon retaliated by spraying sea water over you by spinning its propeller-like tails. Oh, it’s on now. Barry however was already a step ahead of you as he mounted onto his Pokemon’s back. “Good luck trying to catch me Slowpoke!” He taunted with a smirk before promptly swimming away from you. You knew Vaporeon was nowhere near as fast as Floatzel but you sure as hell weren’t going to let him get away so easily. You got on Vaporeon’s back and began swimming after the two, unable to contain the childlike excitement and determination you were getting from the chase.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

For the first time since you moved to the chilly region you truly felt the warmth of summer in Sinnoh. You and Barry sat on a bench right outside Sandgem Beach, not bothering to change out of your swimsuits as you ate popsicles and watch the afternoon go by. Residents glance at you both with odd looks since beachgoers rarely, if ever, visit their town but neither of you mind at all. After having that impromptu water fight you both decided to have a Pokemon battle, for old time sake. Of course you lost but you didn’t mind. Its been so long since you felt the fun and adrenaline that battles gave you that you completely forgot why you enjoyed them so much in the first place.

“Hey (Y/N)?” You looked at Barry who took a small bite from his orange creamsicle. “I know I said it was cheesy but is it true? I’ll always be your best friend no matter what?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” You had just finished your (flavor) popsicle, dumping the stick in the trash can beside you. He remained silent and although he said he was fine you notice still a hint of sadness in his expression as he stared off in the distance. Placing a hand on his shoulder you diverted his attention to you as you beamed at him. “It’s a promise.”

There was a sudden shimmer in his eyes and you wonder if he was tearing up when he quickly rub at them. “It better be otherwise I’ll fine you ten million PokeDollars if you replace me!” You couldn’t help but giggle, Barry joining in.

“So what’s the plan tomorrow?” You asked.

“Well I was thinking the Great Marsh maybe. If you’re fine with that.”

You nodded. “I bet I can catch more Pokemon then you.” You smirked when his smile faded into an annoyed expression.

“As if! I’m totally going to kick your ass!” He said swatting away your hand when you attempted to ruffle his hair just to irk him.

Needless to say, you were pretty glad he woke you up this morning.

[bellylivesthepoguelife]

i need you. [part 2]

Note: I can’t say “THANK YOU” enough to @mbabystein​ for beta-ing this! I sent it when I was *thought* I was done, and she said, “hang on a sec.” After discussing, I added 1,000+ words to it, and it is SO much better than what I initially wrote! I can’t WAIT to hear what y’all think of this one! ;)

Also! I got this request a few days ago and it fit SO perfect that i HAD to use it for part2!

Request: Hey can I request "I just want you to hold me." with jarah b??!💗

Word Count: 2.8K

(Part 1)

It's an hour later when their tears stop, and a numb, tingling sensation creeps into their bones. They don't speak for the longest time, each unable to escape the funnel of thoughts ringing too loud in their heads. Sarah is the first to break the silence. Sitting up straighter from where she was slouched against John B's chest. She doesn't look at him as she speaks.

"How mad are you." It's not phrased like a question even though it is.

She feels him swallow and clear his throat. "I'm not mad, Sarah."

Her eyes almost roll, and she's thankful that they're not looking at each other. "What are you then?" Silence. "I know you're feeling something."

His head makes a soft thud as he rests it against the wall he's leaning against. She'd bet a good amount of money that his eyes are closed as well.

"So many things."

She tries to ignore the thumping of her heart, tries to even out the quickening of her breaths. "Please tell me." She whispers. "I need to know what you're thinking."

There's more silence as he forms his thoughts. "I'm scared." He confesses.

She wraps her arms around him, hoping she can make him feel some of the comfort he'd been providing her. "Me too."

"How are you feeling?" His hands run up and down her arms, his unconscious way of comforting her.

"I'm terrified." A kiss is pressed to her hair, and the tenderness of it catches her off guard. The tears come before she even realizes, and she sits up straight, wiping at her eyes. "And I want to stop crying!"

John B smooths her hair back a couple times. "It's okay, you can cry."

"I don't want to cry. I want to talk."

He pulls his knee up to rest his arm it so he can still play with Sarah's hair or rub her back. "So let's talk."

She's quiet for a long time, staring straight ahead. John B stays silent, allowing her the time to think and gather her thoughts but he's still the first to break the silence. "You know if you want to talk about things, you have to actually say the words you're thinking?" He smiles and plays with a piece of hair before tucking it behind her ear. "Don't shut me out, Val. Please. Let me into that pretty head of yours. Let me help you carry some of this." Sarah turns to look at the man sitting on the floor with her, the only thing he wants is to help her. "You can start from anywhere, and we'll work our way through it."

Nodding, she takes a breath and allows him into the hurricane of her thoughts "Okay, well obviously I'm going to get fat--bye-bye bikinis..." She rolls her eyes and John B has to focus on not letting a smile break out on his face; because of course that would be the first thing out of Sarah Cameron's mouth. "...and I'm going to get sick all the time, which is obviously no fun." John B echoes something that sounds like "definitely no fun" and the commentary makes her smile. "Then there's telling everyone, and--fuck--what is everyone going to think." She runs a hand through her hair. "Who even is everyone? I don't exactly have the best parental figures in the world. My dad and my brother are in prison. How am I going to be able to even look at Wheezie." John B nods. "We obviously have to tell JJ, Pope, and Kie, and they're just gonna give us even more shit for being irresponsible."

"I think they may surprise you."

"Really?" She deadpans. "You really think they're going to be excited about this and not give us any shit?"

He sits up straighter. "I don't know about any shit, especially knowing JJ, but he'll just give it to me. I think they'll be nicer than you think."

"They're gonna be weird about it I know it." John B doesn't comment, and she shakes her head to herself. "Can you get me a drink?"

"Of course." He knew better than to push. Especially given the current high-stress environment, he decides changing the topic might be a better route. "When did you find out?" He stands up to stretch before walking over to the mini fridge in the corner to grab a couple waters that he knew would be stashed inside.

She pulls her knees to her chest, and rests her chin on top. Her arms come to hold each other in the pyramid of space her legs make. "This morning."

"Before you called me?" He clarifies, walking back over and handing her a water before moving to sit on her bed.

She nods in agreement as she takes a sip of water, standing up and stretching before moving to sit next to him.

They sit side by side, against the wall that the dorm-standard twin bed was pushed up against, legs extended out, Sarah's head on his shoulder, while John B's arm rest across her thigh. Sarah rubbed his arm, giving him time to process.

"We should probably get you to a doctor," is the first thing to come out.

Her body tightens when she realizes what he might be insinuating. She tries to seem nonchalant, aloof, as she gauges him warily. "Why?"

"I mean, isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"I guess..." The impulse to narrow her eyes at him is intense.

"Well, I'm assuming there's some medicine, or something that you have to take, right?" His eyebrows furrow together, and he looks at where his hand rubs circles into her thigh. "Or something to help you with getting sick all the time?"

Sarah looks up at him as he continues, but she's more comforted knowing that his only concern is her.

"There's tests you have to get too, right? Like--I don't know blood tests or something? I don't really know a lot about this." He looks down at the water bottle he's playing with in his right hand.

"Neither do I." She admits. Sarah Cameron knew how babies were made, obviously, and even had thought about having them with John B one day. One day that was years down the road, not when they were only 19. She didn't even know if John B even wanted kids. Sure, they had talked about it in passing but never with any serious intent. He and JJ were the free spirit, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, don't-make-plans-more-than-a-year-in-advance kind of people. She wasn't expecting him to be excited by the news by any means. Hell, she's not even thrilled with the idea right now. But he's still here, with her. She knows he loves her. Has to keep reminding herself so the fears of "he's going to be so pissed" and "he's going to leave you" stay far away. Having him here helps reinforce it.

His breath hitches, and breaks her train of thought. "I mean, they have to make sure you're okay, right?" His words are coming a bit quicker now. "That you're okay. That you and- and..."

She meets his eyes, and sees nothing but fear and concern there. Her hand rubs against his on her leg. "You can say it, John B, it's okay."

His eyes close, and he clears his throat. "That you... and the baby... are okay." He whispers. His breath jerks again just before she sees the first tear slide down his cheek.

"John B." She has to wonder if this is how he felt this morning, when he was still unaware of the situation. Only knowing that she was hurting. She straddles his legs, gently pulling his shoulders from the wall and into her embrace. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

"I know." It comes out sharper than he probably intends, but he's quick to cover it up. "Sorry." He pulls back, running a hand over his face. "Anyway, what else did you want to talk about."

"I want to talk about you."

He gives a humorless laugh. "We're not talking about me, Sarah."

"You're a part of this situation, too." She gives him a look that dares him to defy her. "So, yes, we're talking about you."

"I'm not the one going through this."

He's deflecting and she knows it. "Maybe not, but you're involved just as much as I am. This is half of you, too."

"Dammit, Sarah!" His outburst startles both of them. She sits back on her heels, legs still on either side of him. "I'm trying to help you! Trying to--be strong for you because I know how scared you are. I don't care about how I feel--I don't want to talk about me because I'm the one that put you in this situation in the first place! So just--just let me take care of you! Please!"

As painful as it is to watch him break, she knows that this is what he needs. Sarah immediately pulls him into her, again. This time his hands wrap around her back, squeezing lighter than usual. She holds his head to her and plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, taking on the supportive role, and allowing him to be the one to break down for once. "I'm so sorry."

She pulls back enough to place a kiss to the side of his head. "It's not your fault. Vlad, we're going to be okay, I promise. It'll be okay." She's not sure if she's trying to convince herself or him, and she doesn't know who needs to hear it more.

It's as if the tears shed stimulate the need to make the fear known because he's pulling away to put his hand on either side of her face. "Sarah," there are still tears falling, and Sarah thinks there's no way she deserves the man sitting in front of her. "You're already getting sick. You're probably only going to get worse! And you're here, and I'm in the OBX, and I don't know the first thing about any of this! I don't know how to take care of a baby! I know they're expensive, so how the hell am I going to be able to support one when I've never even held one! And now there's one inside of you, and..." the thought seems to remind him of something else, because all of a sudden he's frantic. "And you're going to have to go through labor to get it out--oh god. Oh god--"

"John B." He's going to have a panic attack if she doesn't interrupt his spiraling thought process. "John B, look at me." His hands have moved to his head. She's pulling at them, hoping that looking at her while she speaks will ground him.

"You didn't ask for this, Sarah!" He pulls his hands away, and the anguish in his eyes brings tears to her own.

"You didn't either!" The short laugh that leaves her throat is unexpected even to her. "Babe, I love you, but you are completely freaking out. You make it sound like I just told you I only have 6 months to live."

He doesn't respond, and she feels a tug in her chest.

"What do you need, JB." Her voice is soft as she brushes a thumb under his eye. "What can I do to help you?"

There's a ragged breath, another couple moments of no one speaking. "Can you... I just want you to hold me. Please." Sarah's arms are locked around him in an instant, and the confession brings both of them to tears. Just like earlier, they allow themselves to feel the push and pull of the emotions that come in waves.

"This isn't a death sentence." She breaks the silence thinking maybe he needs the clarification. He said he doesn't know anything, but she hopes he at least knows this much. "I'm pregnant. Not dying." She kisses his shoulder to reiterate. "Yeah, you live in the OBX, but I can take a break from classes--"

"I don't want you to have to do that." He interrupts.

"It wouldn't be forever." She concedes. "And if I didn't want to do that, I could always switch to online. Point is: there's ways around that." She runs her hands through his hair, giving him another grounding technique. "Babies are expensive, yeah, but we've got some of the gold money to hold us over, and that's more than enough to support us and a baby." There's a pause, and he nods, rubbing a hand across his face to wipe his cheeks. The tears have subsided for the most part now, and Sarah's hoping that her words are getting through to him. "And yes, I will have to go through labor. But that's way down the road, and we will be able to talk through all of this so we will know what to expect, and make plans so we're prepared."

His eyes slide closed, and he mentally prepares to be his most vulnerable. "Sarah, I can't lose you."

"And you won't." A kiss to his forehead brings a smile to his lips. "You're not."

His arms wrap around her torso again, holding her like his only lifeline. "I'm just--I guess I'm scared that you're going to be upset with how this is going to change everything... you'll blame me... resent me..."

Sarah presses her forehead to his. Looking in his eyes so he knows she's serious. "That's how I felt this morning. I thought you wouldn't want it... wouldn't want me. I mean it's not like this is something we planned on." He starts to explain himself, most likely in disbelief that she would think that of him, but she cuts him off. "But now you're here. Holding me... and we're talking... and now that I know you're not angry and resentful... I don't know. There's a part of me that might be a little excited." His face softens then, her confession easing the tension that had taken a permanent hold on his body. "Do you think that maybe... maybe at some point down the line you might be excited, too?"

He kisses her then, hard and long, like there's a time limit. "I can be excited." He breathes. "I just can't handle the thought of you suffering, or hurting."

She kisses him this time. "I'm pregnant." She repeats. "I'm not dying. There's going to be some hard things, sure, but there's going to be some really beautiful things, too." He smiles then, and she thinks they might be okay.

"Do you think..." He starts, but then thinks better of it.

"Do I think what?"

He shakes his head and looks a bit embarrassed. "No, it's dumb."

She smiles at the change in their conversation, wondering how they both aren't suffering from emotional whiplash. "No it's not. Please ask me. What do you want to know?"

John B plays with his signature bandana and takes a minute to gather his courage, though it comes at the price of making sure there is no chance of eye contact when he asks. "Do you think... that maybe... I might be able to see the test?"

Whatever it was that she thought her boyfriend was going to ask, it sure as hell wasn't that. She just stares at him while her brain takes a minute to process the request. "You..." When she realizes what he's asking, she immediately jumps up to retrieve the piece of plastic from her desk drawer. "yeah. yeah, of course." She scrambles back on the bed, and sits on the edge of where he now had his legs folded underneath him. She hands over the test, and watches warily.

His hands are on both sides of it as he studies the two lines that shifted their whole lives. "Wow." He breathes, glancing up to see her smiling back at him. "Wow."

"Yeah." She agrees. "It's kind of crazy, huh."

"Crazy..." It's as if he can't stop looking at it. "So there really is a baby inside of you."

She nods, though he can't see it because he's still staring at the test in his hands. "There is. A baby that is half of you and half of me." He looks embarrassed again, and she can't help but wonder what's going through his head. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Can I..." He doesn't elaborate and doesn't look at her.

Here eyebrows furrow. "Can you what, John B?"

He doesn't answer, but moves to sit beside her, even though they're facing each other. His hand reaches out hesitantly, and her throat tightens with emotions that she refuses to let show. "Can I?"

She closes her eyes to stop the tears from falling, and nods silently. She can sense his presence close to her, and the feather-light pressure of his hand on the stomach forces a whimper to escape her throat. She feels his other hand brush the side of her face, and leans into the touch.

"I love you, Sarah Cameron." is the whisper that leaves his mouth before he presses it to hers.

[shirlleycoyle]

The Boy on the Mountaintop

Our subletting Funbagger Drew Magary’s third novel, Point B, was released yesterday. A reader once said Drew’s novels read like a really long answer to a Funbag question. So it is with Point B, which asks the question, “Hey, what if you could teleport anywhere you wanted, simply by using your phone?” The following excerpt provides one of many, many answers.

THE BOY ON THE MOUNTAINTOP

By Katy Wagner, GizPo

9/21/2030

(COOS BAY, OR) — Melanie Greenberg has a plan for what to do if she ever meets the Kirsch family. She's rehearsed her speech in the mirror for over a year now. Late at night, when she's mired in the private hell of insomnia, she'll jot down tweaks to her working script, each word chosen carefully for maximum impact. She's learned to write legibly in darkness; rarely does she misspell a word or write one word over another despite writing blind. She can feel the pages for indentations from where she's put pen to paper, so she can locate free white space beneath. And she has sharpened the words down to a blade, so that when she sticks them into a Kirsch, they'll leave a mark.

Can you tell me what you plan on saying?

"The words 'you killed my son' will be in there somewhere."

You think they killed him.

"I know they did. Emilia Kirsch runs the company. Jason Kirsch invented the technology. Tell me who else would be responsible."

Do you want to physically harm Emilia and Jason?

"Yes, but I know I can't. I've convinced myself it's the wrong idea anyway. I want them to live with the hell of being themselves. Emilia and Jason can stay rich. They can stay free. But they'll always have to live inside their hateful bodies, and I want that to hurt them."

It wasn't always easy to get to Coos Bay. You used to have to drive here from Portland, taking the 5 South down to Route 38 and then across to 101, a tattered ribbon of a country highway that would test even a cast-iron stomach. That slim passageway through the wild, coupled with eternally damp weather, was enough to keep Coos Bay relatively isolated in the beginning of the century, especially as shipping jobs began to dry up and drugs took hold over this otherwise anonymous bit of Oregon shoreline.

"We'd have campers and tweakers," says Greenberg. "But now you get these clusters of surfers and fishermen, all zapping in together at exact times and making a goddamn mess before zapping right back out again. And, of course, we have a few port refugees from here and there."

But the greater impact that porting has had on Coos Bay hasn't come from people bypassing the endless roads to come here, but rather its original residents leaving. When the world opened up, the youth of Coos Bay fled in droves. So many kids have dropped out of nearby Marchfield High that the school has been forced to shutter entirely.

One of the kids who dropped out was Melanie's son, Jeffrey. If you're conjuring the stereotype in your head of what a high school dropout might look like these days—lazy, disaffected, porting at random, addicted to black market opioids, etc.—Jeffrey's story will alter that image drastically. He was a straight-A student. He was lead trumpet in the school marching band. He never drank or smoked. A sophomore at Marchfield during the advent of porting, he was already receiving letters from prominent Pac-12 schools with hints of scholarship money in the offing.

"I think, in some ways, porting has been worse for the smart kids," Melanie tells me. I'm in her house right now. It's a split-level abode nestled deep in the woods. This is an area that gets little port traffic, although that hasn't stopped Melanie from keeping dozens of guns handy to fend off aggressive trespassers and would-be squatters. She makes me a fresh pot of coffee but, in a moment of absent-mindedness, forgets to put a filter in the coffeemaker. Hot water and loose grounds spurt all over the kitchen counter.

"Jeffrey wanted to leave Coos Bay, and I don't blame him. I mean, this place was a meth hole. He was excited to get out and see the world, and I was excited for it, too. I just think you have to be ready, you know? No one was ready for it."

She held off buying Jeffrey a PortPhone for as long as she could, but after he saved up hundreds from his own personal landscaping business, she couldn't fend him off any longer.

"I remember where he ported to first," Melanie says to me as she rinses the soaked coffee grounds out of her pot and puts in a fresh filter. "It was Cancun, which is predictable for a 16-year-old. I made him promise only to go for a couple of minutes. So he zaps out, and I'm waiting, and waiting, and I've got half a mind to go to his pin and thrash him in front of all of Mexico. Then he finally came back."

And what was that like?

"He wouldn't stop laughing. That ever happen to you? You're so happy you start laughing, and you don't know why? It was that. And I saw that look of joy from him and…" she begins to cry, "I'm a mom, you know? When you see your kid happy, you want them to stay that way forever. It's like when you give a small child candy, and they go crazy for it. It makes you want to give them more. To spoil them. Because it's so easy. Spoiling them makes them happy. But you know you can't spoil them always because if you keep giving candy to them, it'll…" She can't finish the thought. She presses her hands against the counter and lets out a long exhale.

Jeffrey began porting every weekend, and then every night. Once PortSys began offering unlimited plans, Melanie felt powerless to stop him. He always managed to talk his way out of having the phone confiscated. Sometimes they would port together places, but more often it would be Jeffrey out in the world on his own, Melanie dying a little inside every time he vanished.

"Everything was different overnight, and I needed more time to adjust to that. We all did. We all still do! But PortSys? They never gave a shit. They weren't careful. They didn't bother preparing anyone for this kind of world. They charged ahead because they knew no one would ever have the courage to stop them."

One Sunday in May, Jeffrey told his mom he was going to Los Angeles with fellow bandmate Paul Gallagher. They had an agreement that he would share his pin with her anytime he went somewhere. This day, the destination was the Santa Monica Pier. Melanie watched Jeffrey port out, then ported to Atlanta herself to visit a friend before coming home to wait for him.

But Jeffrey never showed. Melanie called her son. She texted. Still no answer. When she checked her own PortSys account, she realized that Jeffrey had unfriended her that morning, leaving her unable to see his port history. By the time Monday morning arrived, she had turned frantic, porting to Jeffrey's chosen pin on the beach and wading through hordes of unimaginative tourists to look for her son, a human needle in the haystack. When she called PortSys to try to verify his current location, they refused to disclose it.

"Sometimes," Melanie says, "You trust your children too much, you know? Jeffrey was such a good kid, I'd have trusted him with any decision he made. But then I would forget he's still just a kid."

What Melanie didn't know was that Jeffrey's trip to Santa Monica was actually a premeditated ruse. He and Gallagher weren't going to California at all. Rather, they had spent the better part of a month sketching out a plan to port to the summit of Mount Everest. They studied storm patterns. They borrowed mountaineering gear from a friend (lightweight, to adhere to PortSys' YOU PLUS TWO guidelines, which allow for teleporting an extra two kilograms on your person in addition to the mass of your naked body) plus bottles of supplemental from a more experienced summiter. They went on long runs in high altitude cities: cities that Jeffrey had truthfully told his mother he was going to visit, while keeping hidden his ulterior motive for the jaunts.

The plan was port to increasingly high altitudes, get acclimated, and then hit the summit. Once on the roof of the world, Jeffrey and Paul would take in the view of the surrounding hemisphere, get a selfie, and then leave in an instant.

It is, of course, not legal to port to the summit of Everest. Since the advent of porting, only the South Slope of the mountain is open to climbing, with the North Slope formally closed by a Chinese government that outlawed porting from the start and has no plans to reverse that policy. Thus, oversight of Everest's unlicensed port tourism has fallen mostly to overwhelmed Nepalese officials.

The path to the summit was awash in litter and human excrement long before the advent of PortPhones, and porting has only exacerbated the problems at the top of the mountain. As with other national landmarks all over the world, port tourists have overwhelmed and desecrated what were once carefully preserved lands. In a bit of morbid irony, the deadly environs of Everest have help protect it from being completely overrun. Other parks and attractions lack such natural deterrents.

And standard tourist attractions are even more vulnerable, particularly spots highlighted by popular WorldGram travel accounts like @GoHere, which can create nightmare crowding situations the instant it recommends a porting destination. The Eiffel Tower in Paris is patrolled by armed forces at all times because port tourists stampede in at all hours, but the Tower is fortunate enough to be able to afford that security. Prominent amusement parks like Cedar Point in Ohio now must charge by the ride instead of charging gate admission because they can't build a portwall large enough to secure the grounds. Pebble Beach golf course in California now has PINE agents on carts patrolling the holes 24/7. Other hotspots, such as Monte Alban in Oaxaca and parts north of the aurora oval in Alaska, lack the funding to afford a portwall or beefed-up security, and have thus suffered environmental and ecological decay due to massive increases in foot traffic.

The summit of Everest, despite its hostile climate, has also suffered likewise. Perhaps it hasn't suffered the same amount of damage as Uluru in Australia, but any damage done to the roof of the world is substantial and permanent. New mountaineering laws have not helped. Anyone caught porting to the summit of Everest is subject to arrest and fines in excess of $500,000. But catching violators and enforcing fines is nearly impossible. While Nepalese officials were glad that porting eased some of traffic to the summit, they have had little control over the inevitable overcrowding that now routinely happens on it, especially when weather conditions prove favorable. How can you control the top of a mountain when anyone can get there by pushing a button and stepping into a wormhole? You can't keep a police force 33,000 feet up in the sky. You can't patrol it from the air. Proposals to create a portwall around the summit have proved unworkable.

To prevent being identified at the summit, Jeffrey Greenberg and Paul Gallagher left their passport lanyards behind in a still-unknown location. Jeffrey's callowness meant that he had vastly overestimated his ability to execute the Everest plan. As they ported from one acclimation point to the next, Jeffrey complained to Gallagher that he felt nauseous and dizzy: unmistakable signs of altitude sickness. An encroaching storm system—not exactly a surprise development around Everest—forced Jeffrey and Gallagher to accelerate their plans and shorten their acclimation intervals so that they could port to the summit and get out before the squall bore down.

That would prove to be a fatal error, because Jeffrey's lungs were already starved for oxygen. At the peak of Everest, the air only has roughly a third of the oxygen contained in the air at sea level. That thin air, combined with the drop in air pressure, can tax the lungs of even a seasoned climber. And Jeffrey was far from that.

The instant the two boys ported to the South Summit, with an altitude of 28,704 feet, Jeffrey collapsed and began to convulse, the result of a cerebral edema. Gallagher, now terrified, tried to program Jeffrey's PortPhone to port his friend back to safer ground, but couldn't get his bandmate's finger to hold steady on the phone's scanner prompt. Even if Gallagher had succeeded in this, Jeffrey never would have been able to take the crucial step to complete the porting. He was stuck seizing at the summit, his body desperate to hyperventilate but too weak to do so. His diaphragm cramped into a hard knot. The oxygen supply to his brain got cut off entirely. When Gallagher called American medical startup 1RSPND and begged them to have first responders port to the summit, the company told him that they were over their monthly porting data limit, and that PortSys had throttled their service. Mountaineers that had secured official permits to summit the mountain began to openly grouse at the two boys clogging up the summit, which has a surface area roughly the size of an apartment closet. No one was going to help Jeffrey Greenberg.

It was all over in less than a minute. A nearby team of experienced climbers, who had made the summit the old-fashioned way, rushed to administer CPR to Jeffrey, but by then he had no pulse. With the storm closing in quickly, Paul Gallagher, who would only agree to speak on background for this story, had little choice but to abandon his friend right there, 100 meters below the highest point on Earth.

Jeffrey Greenberg's body remains on Everest to this day, scattered among the hundreds of other corpses resting on the mountain that cannot be removed, neither by porting nor by law. He is far from alone in being the only young person to meet a gruesome fate by porting somewhere he didn't belong. There was the case of Taylor Garrison, a college student who accidentally ported into the middle of the Pacific Ocean and drowned. There was the case of Megan Abay, who got stuck in a faulty wormhole that teleported her back and forth from her apartment in Chicago to her parents' home in Addis Ababa every microsecond, splitting her into two places simultaneously and destroying her mind. There was Leann Egan, who was ported 200 feet above her intended pin in Maui thanks to what PortSys described as a "glitch" in its famously guarded algorithm. She fell to her death.

And then there was the strange case of Anthony Drazic, a seven-year-old who, through yet another system "bug," ported directly into the body of a full-grown man named Joshua Klim, killing both instantly. Drazic's body had to be surgically removed from Klim's abdomen in a gruesome Caesarian section that would take a Serbian coroner thirteen hours to complete. To this day, it remains the only violation of PortSys's supposedly ironclad law that solid matter cannot port into other solid matter. And then there are, of course, the tens of thousands of runaways and refugees shot and killed by interior patrols lurking in the United States, the United Kingdom, Spain, Russia, and every other country looking to crack down on port migration.

These deaths, be they the result of direct failures in PortSys's algorithm, or the result of PortSys failing to curtail its users' more reckless impulses, have invariably resulted in solemn statements issued by the company, along with any number of discreetly agreed-upon cash settlements. Melanie Greenberg was offered $28,000 to settle her case against PortSys. When she refused and filed a formal lawsuit, the case was thrown out in Federal court after Congress passed a law that made it illegal to sue "any porting carrier" (curious wording, given that PortSys is the only porting carrier in existence) for accidents resulting from the use of their products.

Calls for PortSys to restrict how users port—into private homes, into war zones, and to dangerous terrain—have been rebuffed by the company in the name of port neutrality. The closest PortSys has come to fixing the problem is establishing two-factor confirmation for any user wishing to port into "conflict zones," areas marked as dangerous by the company (of course, those designations have often been met with vehement protest by residents of said zones). They promise that the bugs that killed Josh Klim and Leann Egan have been fixed in later software updates. The company's parental controls, ostensibly introduced to help parents monitor where kids port, remain cumbersome and lightly used.

When Jason Kirsch was confronted with these facts in an email exchange with me, he remained defiant.

"Our terms of service are clear," he told me. "Our port moderators do not advise people porting to certain areas they have declared as unsafe, but we are not going to close off those areas and restrict the God-given freedoms of those who are experienced and hardy enough to tackle that kind of terrain. I myself have ported to such locations. Have you been to the top of Devil's Tower? I have. It's breathtaking. It is incumbent upon users to follow both their better instincts and the laws of anywhere they choose to port."

"So you're absolved of all responsibility in these deaths?" I asked him.

"Let me make it clear, Katy: This company saved the world. You know that. I know I speak for my mother when I say it's a terrible thing any time someone experiences a porting malfunction."

You mean a porting death.

"No, these are unfortunate malfunctions. In the event of someone harming himself during the porting process, we mourn just as his family mourns."

I don't believe that.

"Believe what you want to believe," Jason Kirsch wrote back. "I have the facts on my side, and what the facts say is that porting solved this planet's energy crisis, along with its housing crisis and its traffic crisis. People can now evacuate from natural disasters in a snap, and rescue workers can port into those same areas with equal speed. Once we get China on board with porting, we'll have improved modern civilization by orders of magnitude. To me, it's insane that some people don't appreciate this. WE INVENTED TELEPORTATION. How can you not be astounded by that? I'm astounded by it every day! Do you understand how many lives this company has saved? 40,000 automobile related deaths in the United States alone. Every year. All saved. Why is that not the focus of your story?"

(Jason Kirsch is not entirely correct here: While passenger automobile deaths are now nearly extinct, trucking fatalities have increased over 500% since the advent of porting, thanks to decaying highway infrastructure plus huge increases in demand for construction and shipped goods in formerly remote areas.)

Melanie Greenberg has never seen her son's body. To visit Jeffrey, she would either have to pay an outrageous amount to have it removed from Everest, or she herself would have to port to the summit, something she is terrified to do both from a physical and legal standpoint. For now, Jeffrey's body remains on display in a permanent, open wake she'll never be able to attend. She long ago forgave Paul Gallagher for his role in Jeffrey's death. Instead, she saves the bulk of her ire for PortSys and the Kirsch family. Sometimes, when she wakes up in the morning, she discovers that she's written hundreds of words in frantic night scribbling. She shows me the notes, which take up an entire filing box.

Are all those notes for the Kirsches?

"Not all of them. I spare more than a few for myself."

I don't think you're alone in having a hard time reckoning with how much freedom to give your children.

"Yeah but my son is dead, so I have hard proof I did a lousy job, don't I? I caved when I should've been stronger. And I let him have this power, because I wanted to have it too."

This is when I notice a rectangular bulge in Melanie's pocket. She takes out her old PortPhone6, the screen slightly cracked and the chrome edges nicked and scarred. She knows what I'm about to ask, so she goes ahead and answers in advance.

"It's for the Kirsches. It's my only way to get to Emilia and Jason. When they do one of their bullshit listening tours, or when Jason stages one of his insufferable new product launches, that's when I'm gonna port in and tell them about my son."

And then?

"And then, I swear to you, I will throw this thing in the fucking ocean."

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