Chapter 15
ZIP FURR
Zip Furr really needed to put a lock on his door.
Well, what he really needed was to lock his door. There were locks on every door to the room of an SFPU member; he just needed to actually fasten it.
After the Moonfall Precinct had left, Charlie had promptly vanished and Zip had nearly sprinted to his room, already on the verge of a meltdown and desperate to avoid it, if at all possible.
He kept the lights off and wrapped his weighted blanket around his shoulders as he crawled into bed, closing his eyes and focusing on the pressure. His breaths came short and shallow, mind still scrambled from having the Moonfall Precinct come and execute their search warrant.
The unpredictable nature of working in the SFPU was ok. It was fine. Zip could never accurately guess exactly what the day would bring, but it held some semblance of routine, of knowing what came next. The camp was always the same, the SFPU members were always the same people, he always controlled his projects. Even tracking down poachers always retained some form of familiarity; the goal never changed and the methods used changed depending on the situation, but it was predictable since he was always aware of how things would be different.
But having twenty or thirty unknown people bustle around the camp with next to no warning was far too much.
Zip shifted further back on his bed and pressed his spine into the wall, curling up on his side and burying his face in his pillow to drown out as much stimuli as he could. He fiddled with the buttons on his coat, snapping them in and out of place again and again.
He teetered on the edge, hovering on the verge of a meltdown. He could feel it building up within him, a looming storm on the horizon clouding the skies into something dark and eerie.
Zip knew what the Moonfall Precinct was at the camp for. Knew the reason behind it. And he agreed with it full-heartedly.
But he was still trying to figure out what the new normal would look like without Ashley. Still trying to figure out what emotions he was feeling regarding Ashley's murder. Still trying to get through the aftermath of the shutdown he experienced after learning of Ashley's death.
Having the Moonfall Precinct arrive with only a brief period of time to get ready pushed him to the brink of a meltdown, and masking to appear as normal and socially acceptable as he could manage only sent him ever closer. Pyxis laying across his legs and the pressure it gave had let him hang on until the officers were gone, but by the thinnest of threads.
Zip twisted the blanket around his body until he was cocooned within it and could barely move, though his fingers holding it tight scratched at the surface. He counted out breaths, matching the lengths of inhales and exhales and tapping out the seconds against his skin to get the physical sensation of time.
Despite his best efforts to fend off the meltdown, he spiraled higher and higher, drawing closer and closer to the point of no return. The point at which he lost control and could only wait it out as his body found some sort of balance again.
Zip's door wasn't locked — the thought that a lock actually existed never crossed his mind as he fled to his room to try and calm down.
Ferris opening the door pushed him over the tipping point, and something inside of him snapped.
"NO!" Zip cried, lurching upright. The burning in his eyes gave way to hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He knelt on his bed. Ferris was across the room, but it felt far, far too close. Like they were both right next to each other, and Zip thrust out a hand, unable to form his thoughts into words.
Ferris frowned, but he stopped and stepped back until he was standing in the doorway, understanding Zip's gesture.
"Are..." Ferris trailed off and didn't speak for several long moments. "What's going on?"
Zip tried to arrange some sort of explanation, a sentence that would get something across. But his mind was spinning, brimming with thoughts that hurtled around, battering the tattered fringes of his brain. He shook his hands on the sides of his head and then tugged at his hair, breaths shaking in his chest. If he could just formulate a sentence, he could tell Ferris that he was sorry, that he hadn't meant for this to happen. But his voice wouldn't work.
"It's ok if you can't answer right now," Ferris said. "I'm going to stay right here. If you need anything, just let me know. I don't know if you have your phone, but you can message me, if that would be easier for you. Or write it down."
Ferris didn't move from the doorway, but leaned against the frame before sinking to the ground with a dull thump and a groan of discomfort. A part of Zip jumped at that. He knew there was something he was supposed to do, but he couldn't think of it. Something he was supposed to say, but he couldn't remember what.
Zip rocked back and forth. His room felt too small, choking confinement, but anywhere else felt too exposed, open air.
Get a grip. Act normal. Get over it. You're too sensitive. It's not that loud. It's not that bright. It's not that bad, you just need to get over it. Normal people don't do that.
The words chanted in Zip's brain, voices distorted but still recognizable to those he heard as a child. They taunted him, venom dripping from every syllable and tones dipping into something monstrous. Demons stretching out their talons to take seize his chest and shred his flesh until it was torn into ribbons.
Zip struggled to get his breathing under control, to slow his racing heart.
Ferris didn't move or say anything more. He didn't press or insist upon an explanation. He didn't say to stop stimming, to quiet his hands and sit still.
He just gave Zip space.
xxxx
The first time Zip had a meltdown as a member of the SFPU, it was something he had known was likely coming for about a week. He had put so much effort into coming across as normal as he was able to and had pulled out all the stops to mask as best he could. The SFPU was a haven he had never gotten, and he didn't want to risk losing it, not when he felt the most like himself he had ever felt.
But masking slowly pushed him to a breaking point. He had ignored it and hoped that perhaps the haven of the SFPU camp would be enough to fend off the meltdown, though he knew that wasn't how it worked.
And one morning it happened. Tracking down a poacher stretched far into the night, and knocking his smoothie across the counter was the last straw. Masking left him drained and running on energy he didn't have, staying up for so long left him exhausted down to his bones, and spilling his smoothie pushed him over the edge. He didn't remember much of the meltdown; his mind was static. But he knew he shoved Charlie and shouted as she tried to ask what was wrong. He knew he had shattered a glass when he scrambled backward to try to escape.
After the meltdown, the group was confused, and Zip wondered if that was it and he was going to have to leave. He had braced himself, tried to ready himself to hear that he needed to pack his things and go. Except all that happened was an attempt at understanding what had happened and what they could do in the future.
xxxx
As Zip slowly calmed down and his thoughts cleared, he shuddered in his blanket and sighed. He didn't mind being autistic. It wasn't some sort of superpower in his mind, yet it wasn't something he wished to be cured of. It was just a thing about him —like that his hair was curly or that he enjoyed eating pizza— that was neither positive nor negative.
But the meltdowns sucked.
"Sorry," Zip murmured once he could formulate a sentence in his mind.
"It's ok," Ferris replied, looking up from where he still sat in Zip's doorway. He scratched the back of his neck. "I apologize. I think I might've, uh, triggered the meltdown when I walked in here. I'm sorry."
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"I was..." Zip trailed off as he pieced together the string of words. "So close by the time you... opened the door. If-if... Wasn't you, would've been something else."
"I wish we'd known the Moonfall Precinct was coming so we could've had some time to adjust and get ready."
Zip shifted further back onto his bed until he was leaning against the wall. He curled his legs beneath him and kept his gaze on the desk on the opposite side of the room. Having any form of eye contact felt far too intimate and uncomfortable, especially now. "Didn't... didn't want us hiding things."
"Still."
Zip hummed in reply.
"Ren is making some sandwiches if you'd like."
The idea of food made Zip's stomach contort and protest, but he knew he should at least try to eat something. He was sure there was something that would sound... if not appetizing, than not unappetizing.
And so Zip found himself slowly nodding and untangling himself from the knot of blankets wrapped around his limbs, wiping at his eyes to clear away the drying tears.
Ferris gave a small smile and allowed the time he needed to get out of bed, steady himself as he stood up, and make his way to the kitchen.
The house felt empty, hollow in a way it never had before. Like everyone was holding their breath, waiting on something.
Something that could never come, Zip thought as he rounded the corner and paused at the edge of the room, though Ferris continued on to the fridge.
Ren sat at the counter on one of the stools and assembled a sandwich, stacking lettuce on top of cheese with a robotic precision that didn't fit them. They moved with a graceful ease, yet this was almost jerky, movements sharp in a way that didn't look right.
Kristin had his back to Zip, though tension was written across every cell of his body and he almost seemed to be vibrating.
"Do you want me to make you a sandwich, Zip? Your usual?" Ferris glanced back as he pulled out a bag of carrots from the fridge.
"Yeah," he replied, folding himself onto a chair on the opposite side of the table from Kristin.
A partially made sandwich lay in front of Kristin, as did a jar of peanut butter and another of jelly. He gripped the knife tight enough that his knuckles paled, and the slices of bread on the plate in front of him each bore indents and gouges around the toppings spread haphazardly.
Zip didn't say anything as Kristin pushed some more peanut butter around and managed to stab a hole through one of the slices of bread. He cursed softly, and the knife clattered on his plate when he threw it down. A tear rolled down his cheek.
Ren silently pushed a glass of water across the table before they sat down next to Ferris, who was just beginning to eat. The ham and cheese sandwich Ferris placed in front of Zip was identical to the one he ate most days, but now it looked as though it was comprised of cardboard.
Kristin took a deep, trembling breath, eyes squeezed shut and fingers curled into bloodless fists. He exhaled sharply through his teeth and his lip curled. Ren glanced up but didn't say anything.
"Kristin," Zip started.
"What?" Kristin's voice was as tight as a bow string.
"Could you... the workshop-. I-I... Need your help." Zip winced as he spoke and hoped that his voice was stable enough.
Both Ren and Ferris narrowed their eyes.
Kristin looked up and frowned. Zip squirmed under the combined attention. "You need my help?"
Zip nodded.
"What do you need my help with?"
"I... show you? It would... it would be easier."
It was several moments before Kristin replied. "Fine."
He followed Zip out of the house, leaving his sandwich abandoned on the table.
xxxx
When Zip reached the workshop, he held the door for Kristin and then sat down at his desk and ruffled through the papers strewn across the surface and the bits and pieces of prototypes for various ideas he had. He pulled out the latest sketch of Hades. The edges held scribbled-out notes on the coding he would likely need to do, possibilities on what wheels he could use and where he would be able to get them, and the middle was filled with a loose drawing of the driving structure of the robot, with colored lines and shapes representing the wires, bolts, and the parts needed to assemble Hades successfully.
Zip drummed his fingers on the desk as he modified a few joints until the structure of what would become Hades looked right.
Kristin stood just inside the doorway, head tilted to the side, until he pulled out one of the stools beneath the table in the center of the workshop and sat down, perched on the edge and hands folded in his lap.
He didn't say anything and stayed that way for close to ten minutes, only breaking the silence when Zip got up to paw through the boxes of parts on the shelves on the side of the room opposite the desk to see if he had the right motor for the wheels of Hades.
"What do you need my help with?"
"Nothing," Zip said, picking up one of the motors to take a closer look.
"You don't need my help?"
"No. I'm working on Hades. I... yeah. That'll work." He returned to his desk.
Kristin exhaled. "So why did you ask for my help?"
"You..." Zip paused as he pieced together a sentence he hoped was right, setting down the motor beside the sketch. "You looked like you-you were going to cry... but you didn't want to."
"You thought I was going to cry, so you lied and said you needed my help so I would come here." It wasn't a question.
Zip shrugged, glancing back at Kristin for a brief moment before turning back to his desk. "I thought maybe... maybe you would want to be somewhere else. Usually works for me. Sorry for lying. Didn't know if you would've come otherwise. Sorry."
Zip felt Kristin's gaze on his back. His shoulders sagged like a popped balloon, and he let his pen fall from his fingers. It dropped to the ground, but he didn't pick it up.
Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. He should tell Kristin he could leave. He should, right? Zip's mind scrambled to figure out what the right thing to do would be. He had told Kristin he was sorry, although words didn't always line up with what someone actually meant. Perhaps there was a way he could show that he was sorry? Something he could do?
"Thank you," Kristin said.
Zip spun around so fast that the back of his chair slammed into his desk. Did he hear that right?
"Thank you," he repeated.
"You're welcome," Zip replied immediately.
"Why'd you lie, though, if you don't mind me asking?"
Zip paused for a moment, but when he started speaking, the words flowed out of him faster than he could think them through. "I... I saw you were crying. Er, looked like you were-were going to cry. And then there was the... the tear. I-I... I don't know what to do in those situations. I still don't know what to do. Now, too. I thought that... that perhaps if I-I asked you to-to help me, then you'd leave and you'd be more comfortable somewhere else-. Somewhere else where there-there were less people. Fewer people, sorry. But I... it seems maybe I didn't do it right. Sorry."
"You're fine, Zip. No need to apologize. I appreciate you bringing me here. You were right," Kristin said with a short, humorless laugh, and he sucked on his teeth before continuing. "I didn't really want to be at that table, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. It just... it doesn't feel right doing anything. Not when..."
Kristin's voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"I miss Ashley, too." Zip pulled his legs to his chest and tapped his fingers against his knees.
"It doesn't feel real."
"It doesn't," he echoed.
Kristin took a breath. "Do you think I was right to not tell the Moonfall Precinct about Ashley's journal?"
"Do I think you were right to... have us not tell the-the Moonfall Precinct about Ashley's journal?"
Kristin nodded.
Zip tilted his head to the side, repeating Kristin's question again as he pondered over the words. "I... I don't know what's in the journal. Apart from-from the little part we've read, 'course. S-so... so I don't know that... that I can really say."
"I know," Kristin sighed. "I keep feeling like I made a mistake in saying not to tell them about his journal. Maybe it would've... would've blown a big hole in the unknowns surrounding Ashley's-. Surrounding his... his... his murder. But maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe it's just a journal about what he did each day and it's got nothing that would give any indication as to any reason why... why someone would do that-. Maybe it's got nothing to do about that."
"I... don't know. I don't think anyone knows. Er, w-well. Except for... for Ashley."
A silence fell over the room, a hint of tension settling in but remaining soft. Not easy —Zip doubted that would return any time soon, if ever— but not a choking and smothering quiet.
Zip turned his chair back around and fiddled with the wheels on Hades, twisting wires together and arranging them around the robot's frame to ensure that both everything was connecting how it should and that there would be room for every element needed in the robot.
Kristin rested his head in his hands. When Zip heard the first shaky inhale, he froze and glanced back, unsure of what to do. He gave it another few minutes before standing up crossing the room to stand near Kristin.
"Do you want a hug?" Zip asked, scratching the back of his neck.
"Do I want a hug?" Kristin echoed the question after a moment of calculating quiet, eyes narrowed. His voice cracked and his lip quivered, but neither of them mentioned it.
Zip nodded.
"Do you want a hug? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"I guess." He shrugged and shifted on his feet, fingers fiddling with the hem of his pants.
"'I guess' isn't consent for a hug. If you don't want a hug, we won't hug. There are other ways to find comfort. Just being right here... this is really quite nice and quite comforting. Thank you for bringing me here, Zip. I really appreciate it," Kristin said, wiping away a couple of tears from his eyes. "You don't have to give me a hug just because you think it's... necessary or something."
Zip chewed on his lip for a few moments. "I know," he started before trailing off. "I... I do want a hug, though."
He held Kristin's gaze for longer than he normally would have, hoping to show him that he really did want the hug. Kristin seemed to find whatever he was looking for, because a few moments later, he stood up. "Alright."
Zip stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kristin's middle, keeping his grip loose in case Kristin stepped away. But he didn't, and he placed his hands on Zip's back, touch light.
Zip didn't usually like hugs. Physical touch often felt too intimate, too uncomfortable. He usually preferred offering support and comfort in different ways, mainly quiet company. But when he didn't mind them, hugs felt warm and pleasant. His hug with Kristin was just that.
Kristin's grip on the back of his shirt tightened, as did Zip's.
When Kristin pulled back, he had a small smile on his face. He patted Zip's shoulder, touch lingering, before taking a step away. "Thank you, Zip. I... I really appreciate what you did."
Zip ducked his head in a nod. "You're welcome."
"Can you tell me about the robot?"
"Ok."
Zip returned to his desk, standing off to the side to allow Kristin to see better, and walked him through the plans for Hades and what the robot would be able to do once complete: disable vehicles and keep them from starting, either by blocking the exhaust pipe or, perhaps more simply, slashing the tires.
Kristin seemed distant as he listened, but Zip didn't mind talking about the robot, especially if it would offer him a bit of comfort.