“Next time, you shouldn’t have gotten too close for me to notice you,” Tim says as the man scrambles to his feet, running away around a corner and Tim makes sure he has his wallet and his watch along with a few valuables. The star crystal hits his chest lightly, reminding Tim of its small presence.
“Wow, Tim, nice defense,” Chris approaches him with a plastic bag, a large grin on his face. "You got better."
Tim shrugs. “I'm not about to risk getting anything stolen. Got the food?"
“Yup, and you got my favorite jerky,” Chris takes the bags that Tim has so close under his arm and puts it into the bag. “You know, I don’t even need to protect you now; you’re all good on your own.”
“You only have a responsibility to protect me because I’m 13,” Tim points out as they walk.
“Well, that too,” Chris says and when Tim looks up at him, he’s rubbing the back of his head, looking sheepish. Tim cocks his head a little in curiosity and in question when Chris doesn’t say anything more.
They enter the house, leaving Tim exhausted after their little shopping. He lays in bed, welcoming the sheets as he hugs his pillow. He takes out the star crystal, holding it up to the sunlight and like what happened in Aly’s shop, thousand shards of light illuminate the room. Tim stares at the dancing light in fascination and Chris whistles low.
“It’s like a disco ball,” Chris says, putting away the food. “Shiny and club-like.”
Tim rolls his eyes. He puts down the crystal, shoving it under his shirt. “Like you’ve gone to one.”
“Actually, I did. But I came back out because it wasn’t that fun and exciting,” Chris replies and Tim hums.
He’s not surprised. Despite how hardworking Chris was, there were times Chris need to let some steam out. He was sometimes out for something to take his mind off of and that was mostly through street brawling. He might’ve gone into a club after a brawl for a drink or two and then come home, feeling better. It was one of the things Tim knew about Chris that Chris didn’t know Tim knew.
Tim moves onto his side, looking out the window. He could see the shining panels of the skyscrapers in the capital, their bright colored windows standing out in the midst of the slums washed out ones. Even without his visors, Tim can already see the majestic aero technology humming in the skies there, their intricate and careful designs standing out among the hover cars.
Tim can’t help, as an engineer and a mechanic, but become awe-struck by Nova technology. It’s so interesting that sometimes Tim gets so wrapped up in his work, he gets kicked out from the workshop early. It’s a blessing to be kicked out from work so early but at the same time, Tim didn’t get to memorize the ship’s controls and designs. At least not thoroughly.
“Tim?”
“Hmm?” Tim hums as Chris sits by Tim’s bed. The bed dips under his weight and Tim flicks his attention to Chris, who looks contemplate. “Chris?” Tim calls in question.
“You think we’ll get out of here?” Chris asks after a moment. “Out of Genecis?”
Tim looks at Chris, meets his eyes, and smiles ruefully. “No,” Tim says honestly. “Not with the trackers at the back of our ears.”
“What if we took them out?” Chris insisted and Tim frowned. Why was Chris suddenly asking these questions?
“Chris, we’d die trying to,” Tim says. “The tracker, this device, it’s embedded into our nerves. If we try to get it out, we’d be dead before we try.”
Chris’s shoulders slump and Tim almost feels bad. He’s only being honest yet Chris seemed to ask Tim with such hope that it shatters his conscious to destroy it. Then Chris shakes his head, rubs his face and looks sheepish. “Sorry, Timmy,” He lays on top of Tim, his weight making Tim grunt. “I’m just so tired of this, you know?”
Tim stays still. “Me too, Chris,” Tim says quietly. “I’m tired of it too.”
Chris looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna live my whole life like this. I’m 17; I’ve got so much I can do. But here we are, being forced to work, pay taxes, monitored, enslaved.
“And, I just feel so helpless. I hate waking up and having to work, you know?” Chris says and he sighs. “I hate them. The aliens. This is our planet. Our home,” He says with a little more anger. “And,” His voice goes soft. “I miss Mom and Dad.”
Tim feels his chest ache. He missed his own Mom and Dad too. He missed their normal life, filled with love and happiness. He missed their small home, always warm and cozy in the winter, cool and airy during summer. He missed sleeping in their embrace, knowing that he was safe and protected.
Tim focuses his stare on the wall. “Me too,” Tim says and his eyes grow misty. “Me too.”
Chris’s expression falls and he’s sitting up... “And you’re only 13, Timmy,” He says, “You’re still a kid.”
“You’re only 4 years older than me and I’m not a kid, I’m a teenager,” Tim defends.
Chris chuckles and pulls away. “Yeah, yeah, Timmy.”
Tim smiles and Chris ruffles his hair.
We may not be able to escape but we can still live to our fullest every day. Tim thinks as he and Chris watch the sunset.
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