#captain romac

“Hey, uh, Engie?” I frown, looking around at the other man, who had very suddenly become quite rigid with a slight shake to him. He’s panicking over something, I realise, sighing softly and putting down my own bags to go over and try to coax out what’s wrong with the guy. “What’s up?”

". . . Don’t feel well. I’ll be. . . outside. Fresh air. Call me when it’s safe." Engie almost whimpers, scrabbling to put down all the stuff he was carrying and head right back out of this hole in the side of the building that was probably once an entrance way.

I watch with an increasing frown. Fresh air? In this world? He probably got spooked by something, and I know I should stick around and watch to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble in the rain - from the safety of the hotel, of course, making my way over to another hole in the wall to look out from. Not even a minute passes before a high pitched screech reaches the ears of both me and Engie, the latter ceasing up in panic while I fumble to grab my gun, only for the source of the noise to reveal himself. Pilot sprints at Engie, yelling something about “playtime on the beach with Doctor Angie”, and in turn the poor doctor spins on his heel and runs in the opposite direction. I can’t help but laugh.

“Careful, Pi, don’t hurt yourselves!” I call out, watching them play this impromptu game of tag, mostly saying that to ensure that Pilot doesn’t inadvertently kill Engie somehow, and that both of them stay out of trouble. At least the DEX has turned on someone else for a while, I think to myself.

It’s a long while of watching them both sprint up and down the beach, stop for a moment to let Engie catch his breath, occasionally with Pilot coming up to gently pat him on the back or sit them both down in the damp sand, only for him to give chase again the moment Engie tries to get up and move away, before I realise that something is missing. Rather, someone. Where did Captain go off to? Considering the other two are busy, the job of finding zeer comes down to me. Not that I mind all too much in reality, but I’ll certainly make a deal out of it.

Turning away from the makeshift window I’d been watching out of, I proceed to start my search off on the bottom floor. I check the lobby, cringing a little at the decaying skeleton behind the counter, then checks what was probably a dining hall and joined kitchen (with some interest, but I find no edible food to speak of, much to my disappointment), and then finally resign myself to searching each and every room on this floor. Dammit. At least I won’t have to bust my shoulder breaking the doors down to look in the rooms, since, presumably, if Captain’s in one of the rooms zee would have already opened the door.

It’s some time into my search until a harsh, discordant sound reaches me, accompanied by a distant grumbling. For a moment I wonder if it was some kind of monster, but the grumble sounded just a bit Captain-like, and I’d have to check it out anyway, just in case. I head in the direction of the sound, only just pushing the door of the room I thought it came from open when a sound - music - suddenly fills the air. Actual music. . . it’s rather soft and light. When was the last time I heard anything like that? It takes me a moment to register the actual room before me, seeing the source of the music as a slightly battered record player with a somehow intact record spinning around on it, and next to the table it’s resting on is a very familiar trench-coated figure.

“SNIPPEY! LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE FOUND!” I can hear the smile in zeer voice, as if zee’s mask didn’t constantly convey a smile anyway. Softening just a little, I walk over as zee gestures excitedly at the record player.

“How did you even find this?” I ask, frowning softly. “I thought these things were made obsolete ages ago, and if there were any left they’d be in pretty bad condition. And to find one in a hotel, of all places?”

“SHUSH-SHUSH-SHUSH. A GOOD WIZARD NEVER REVEALS ZEER SECRETS!!” Zee gently presses a finger against my mask as zee shushes me, resulting in a slightly confused frown from me. “AND, A GOOD HOLIDAY ALWAYS NEEDS GOOD MUSIC!”

“We’re not. . . this isn’t a holiday.” At this point, I should find it useless to dispute Captain’s logic, especially since I typically give into the narrative anyway. It’s at this point I spot what probably would have been glass doors at the back of the room facing the ocean front, leading to a little boardwalk with steps down to the beach, but the glass has long since been blown in. Through them, I can still see Engie and Pilot running around outside, to which I sigh. “Oh. . . those two are still at it? They’ll be soaked through.”

Captain turns to see what I’m looking at, delightedly clasping zeer hands together and sighing softly. “AH! MEINE FAMILIE. PILOT IS ALREADY PLAYING ON ZEE BEACH WITH GRANDPA ENGIE!” While I’m trying to figure out how Engie is a grandpa and how the rest of us would supposedly fit into a typical family dynamic and just how flustered I am about the conclusion I get to, Captain waltzes over to the doors and dramatically throws them open. “WE CAN WATCH OVER THEM FROM THE STEPS! AND WE WILL STILL BE ABLE TO HEAR OUR MUSIC!!” Zee announces, before stepping out into the rain and pretending to take a deep inhale of the sea air, then goes and sits on the steps. “GO GET HIM, MEIN PILOT!” Zee calls once down, alerting both runners to zee’s presence and stopping them in their tracks. There’s a faint "SIR YES SIR!" from Pilot before he begins to chase again, with a newfound vigor, much to Engie’s presumed dismay.

In the meantime, I was trying to inspect the record player to ignore the fluttering feeling in my chest, trying to figure out how on earth it’s still able to function. Did Captain really luck out? But finding not only an intact player, but also a record to go along with it - the odds had to be impossible, right? But the proof is here, right in front of my eyes. . . Sighing deeply, I decide that I shouldn’t think too much about it. What song even is this? I feel like it should be familiar, and it is, vaguely. When and where I would have heard it, I don’t know, but that feeling in my chest doesn’t go away as I listen to the lyrics.

“Fill my heart with song,     And let me sing forevermore,         You are all I long for,              All I worship and adore. . .”

I walked away to the doors before those feelings could get even more bothersome, looking out into the rain to squint at Pilot and Engie running, then to Captain sitting on the steps, now looking back at me and gently patting the space next to zeer in a silent invitation. “I’m not sitting out there. It’s raining.” I grumble, crossing my arms.

I can almost feel the pout in Captain’s slightly disappointed stare, but then, zee seems to light up. “AHA! BUT, DEAR! I HAVE AN UMBRELLA!” To which zee promptly pulls an umbrella from seemingly nowhere, and to which I have to pretend very hard that my face isn’t reddening under my mask, arms crossing tighter in an attempt to hide just how tender being called “dear” made me feel.

We stare at each other for several moments, until I sigh and shake my head, reluctantly stepping out and walking over to sit next to Captain. Usually I would ensure that there would be a respectable distance of a few inches between us, but since it’s raining and I’d really like to not get wet, I sit right next to zeer, gently bumping shoulders. There’s no harm in this, is there? No, I convince myself, this would be fine. So why is my heart beating so hard in my chest? Is it the lyrics of the song, the fact that Captain chose it, the fact that we’re both sitting so close to one another now, or a combination of the three? I know that it shouldn’t bother me so much, there’s no way that zee means it in the way I think zee does, it’s just another layer of eccentricness. And besides, we’ve been closer at times, and there was no absolute confirmation then. . .

The music stops for a moment, dragging me out of my thoughts enough to lay them to rest. Whatever I think, it doesn’t matter, there’s no use being nervous over it when things like this will happen again. So, there’s no use in worrying over daring to get a little closer, daring to relax, to space out a little watching my friends run about in the closeness and warmth of someone I like with music playing gently in the background. And so, I dare to. Exhaling a soft sigh, I rest my head on Captain’s shoulder, inching just a little closer. This is allowed, I won’t be rejected, I’m allowed to do this, please please don’t reject me--

And then Captain gently curls an arm around my waist, and immediately everything feels okay. Not around my shoulders like a friend would do, no. Around my waist, like a. . .

Huh. I really do talk myself down, don’t I? I should really stop letting my anxiety control me. Especially when I feel every shred of worry melt away as Captain pulls me just that little bit closer with a content hum, resting zeer head against mine in turn. Was zee just waiting for me to realise, or have we both been drifting closer without noticing until now? How long have we been this. . . gentle and tender in each other’s company?