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Sometimes, when the numbers and patterns and rhythms and noises in Alex’s head get too loud, he has to retreat inside the house, wrapped in his favorite, softest blankets, until the overstimulation goes away, and he can process the outside world again.The others have learned to recognize his Loud Days, and for that, Alex is grateful.Bond, James Bond doesn’t know how to stay quiet on the best of days, so he hands Alex a cup of his favorite tea and leaves the house until Q tells him to come back home.Q sits on the other end of the couch, or at the foot of Alex’s bed, or on the floor by his side and rambles about mathematical series and infinite loops and his newest computer programme. It’s enough to counteract the tangled mess in Alex’s mind, and familiar enough not to overwhelm him, but sometimes even that is too much, so Q simply plops one of his cats onto Alex’s lap and follows Bond, James Bond out the door.And Danny.Danny pulls out his favorite book, or queues up his favorite film on his laptop. Danny curls up against Alex’s side, a comforting, quiet warmth. And Danny sits with him, silent but present, as Alex sorts through the information in his own head.And as the noisiness fades, and the world slips back into its normal calibrations, Danny is there for Alex to lean against, to touch. To anchor him to reality once more.
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“James, can you pass me the thing?”“The—Danny, what the hell are you on about?”“You know, the, the clicky thing right there.”“This?”“No, not the laptop, the clicky thing!”“What are we discussing in here?”“Q, what does Danny mean by ‘clicky thing’?”“Hm. Is it this?”“No, I don't want Alex's laptop, guys, come on!”“If you could be more specific, perhaps?”“Piss off, James! Alex can always figure it out.”“Sorry, but we aren't half as brilliant as Turner. Clearly.”“All I want is the—Alex! Can you pass me the clicky thing?”“Sure.”“Thank you.”“You just passed him the stapler.”“Yes.”“It doesn't even click!”“Shut up, Q!”“Sometimes it almost does.”“Don't defend him, Alex, Danny's just weird, that's all.”“Yes. But not in a bad way.”“Wow, thanks, Alex. Hey, while you're over there, can you grab me the bubble thing? Thank you.”“...It’s called a fizzy drink!”
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They say we remember things from our past lives. Old addresses, our partner’s preferred HoloCell brand. Little things.Until now, I’d never believed it. But looking at the slim man in front of me, I am struck with a strange sense of déjà vu.His HoloSuit is worn, his eyes tired. Where have you been? I want to ask. I've been looking for you.“My name's Denny,” the man offers.No it isn't, I think. Not quite."My name is Joe,” I say.No it isn't.Not-Denny hums thoughtfully. "If you could pick any name for yourself, what would it be?”I ponder it. “Alan.”Not quite. But it’ll do.Not-Denny beams. "Okay, Alan. Would you like to come to lunch with us?”I nod. He leads me over to two other men.“Alan?” the man with HoloLens prosthetics says as we’re introduced. “I'm your new best friend, Quinn.”The other man snorts and extends his hand. “Brown,” he says. “John Brown.We sit and place our orders.“Do you have two cats?” I ask Quinn, randomly.“No way in hell,” Brown says.Quinn rolls his eyes. “I don’t,” he tells me. “But I’ve been thinking of getting some.”Brown groans.The HoloServe arrives with our meals. I watch them all as we eat. Denny’s hands curled around the fork, Quinn’s bangs, Brown’s eyes.“Something wrong?" Quinn asks me.I hesitate. "I feel like I've known you all forever,” I admit.They all smile at me.“Me, too.”
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James starts barking as Alex arrives, and he scurries over on all fours to paw at Alex’s leg.Alex reaches down and scratches behind his ear. “Q, why is James acting like a dog?”Q sighs. “My newest gadget malfunctioned.”“Can you fix it?"“I hope so.”James leaves and returns with a ball in his mouth. “Really?” Q asks, but he throws the ball. James chases it, barking wildly.When he looks back, he sees Alex with his phone out.“What are you doing?” Q asks him."Filming this for Danny,” Alex says innocently. “He'd never believe me otherwise.”