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There's Always Reminders

Summary:

A bat and a fairy have a chat in a tree.

Or, even with magic, nothing heals quick.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“If you notice, by dipping the bat in a series of paints…”

It’s kind of thick and tastes kind of tangy. Like mud but it tastes worse than mud. Not that you eat mud or anything. That’d be weird. No. There’s colors, too many colors, but you probably shouldn’t open your eyes (or mouth, for that matter) when you’re IN the stuff. Yeesh. Times like this you wish it was true that you didn’t have any rods in your eyes because you were a bat.

“All our cosmetics are non-carcinogenic!”

Technically true, but it took some tries to get there. Besides, stuff made you look like you came right out of a clown car. First clown in a line, pinned under a bunch of other clowns, while the canned audience laughter plays. You’re not a clown. You know the laughter’s canned. You do want to know how they can it.

“More nitrous oxide, Thomas…”

Darwin was the only Darwin in the lab, he’d figured that one out quick. Humans had a weird habit of repeating names a lot, but he was the only Darwin, good to know. At least you knew which human’s name to instinctively tense up in fear at. Wasn’t sure who Thomas was. Maybe one of the graduate students. So many of those. Like cockroaches. Or Lay’s potato chips. Bet you can’t eat just one! He couldn’t eat any of them. Besides the point. Graduate students did whatever Darwin told them to do because Darwin was in charge and if they were working there he could ruin their lives if they tried to tell anyone else about all this, ethics be damned --

“Get me another one. Get me another animal!”

He was hard to kill, he took maybe some weird and smug sense of pride in that --

“Insert the elec --”

Red wires, green wires --

“We’re losing him!”

Red wires, green wires, red wires, green wires, why the wires, he did cosmetics, he did anything, red wires, green wires, and the colors began to blur, he could feel the opening in his chest, and then, and then --

Zzt!

GOOOOOOOD MOOOORNING, VIETNAM!

The bat rocketed awake and tried to find his headphones and microphone, but instead tumbled from his perch to the ground of his little tree-hole cavern. His eyes rolled about dizzily, but he blinked a few times and shook out his head, and everything seemed to settle. Batty Koda pushed himself up and poked around his body, smiling in satisfaction when he noticed his chest was not currently cut open, nor would it ever be again. Hah! He’d laugh in Darwin’s face right about now, if he knew where the man was, and if the thought didn’t make him want to scream in unparalleled terror. Still, he laughed quietly to himself --

“Batty? A-are you alright?”

He looked up with a start. There was Crysta, clearly still tired (how late was it? Ugh, these fairies, making him practically diurnal!) but also with visible concern etched into her face. “Me? Well, ‘course I’m alright, I --” His eyes rolled away as he laughed, antenna giving off a fizz of electricity. “You know. REM. Brain activity high, dreams are vivid, probably just thought with the wrong brain parts and flipped channels or something.”

“You were dreaming?” The fairy asked, perching herself on the rim of his cavern. Batty had made it clear he didn’t like sleeping alone, and that somehow, he felt safer in small spaces when he had to sleep (“And that’s the worst part, they make you comfy with some of the less bad things!”). Crysta was sympathetic, and when the slow regrowing of parts of Ferngully left a tree with a little cavern in it, she’d gladly volunteered to live below him. Batty nodded a few times with a soft ‘mm-hmm’ and she went on, “What were you dreaming about?”

“Um,” Another fizz of electricity. “You know, you know, nothing really important.” A beat. Aw, why was lying to Crysta so hard ? It was like being mean to a baby. “You know how dreams are -- subconscious? Kind of like memories. Maybe they were memories. What’s the difference, really?”

“Memori…” Her voice trailed, and Crysta came into the cavern slowly, her feet hovering just inches off the ground. “Oh, Batty, were you...Remembering bad things?”

“Uh, d-d -- define bad ,” A chuckle. “ Really it wasn’t -- I mean -- it’s not like -- sticks and stones may break my bones , but dreams will never --!” A third fizz turned into a zzt , and Batty’s eyes defocused. “R-S-T-L-N-E, now, three more consonants and a vowel --” He jarred himself out of that by shutting his eyes tightly and shaking his head again. His eyes opened, and Crysta was closer to him now, hands clasped in worry. “Hey! You’ve got nature powers, right? Maybe you can help me! Use your magic, okay, and get this --” He tapped at his temple just under the antenna multiple times rapidly, “Get this thing out of my head!”

Crysta wilted slightly. “You know I can’t…” An exhale, and she looked downwards, focused on her wringing hands. “My magic repairs plant life, it can’t…”

Batty waved the statement off with a wing. “Easy enough to get around! Watch, watch-watch-watch…” He fluttered up and nestled back onto his perch, hanging upside-down and wrapping himself in his wings. He nestled his head behind his wings, snuggling his chin into the fur of his chest. “See?” His voice was muffled, “Or, rather, don’t see? Hah! I blend in pretty nicely. So, c’mon. Regrow. Something something magic incantation. Hocus pocus, sim sala bim, whosey-whatsits, what have you.”

Crysta sighed. Most of the time, she appreciated Batty’s sense of humor, she really did -- even if she didn’t understand all he was referring to, he still said it all in just the right way to make her smile or laugh, and she could tell Batty liked making anyone he could smile. But right now...It wasn’t the time. It felt a bit forced. A little strained. “We can’t undo...Everything humanity’s done,” She said, coming up beside him and biting her lower lip. Batty’s head moved, eyes peeping out of the top of his wings. “Things take time to heal, and we can help that, but...There’ll always be impressions. Scars.” One hand reached out, touching the wall of the tree. “Like -- like this cavern. It’s a scar.”

“Hm, no wonder I feel safer here,” Batty muttered.

“But...Even with scars...Things can get better. And recover. If they try, and...Have those who care about them to help.” A pause. Crysta bit her lip again. Then, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about it? No. No. What’s there to talk about?” He laughed, eyes moving away again, as he pulled his snout out from behind his wings. “It’s like I told you! Brain-fried, electrified, infected and injectified, vivisectified, fed pesticides! Heh, still sounds good even when I ain’t singin’, ain’t that grand?”

“I just --” Crysta exhaled sharply, and she ran a hand down her face. “I don’t want you to think you have to...Keep everything inside yourself. Because you think we won’t understand. I...Want to be able to help, even if I...Can’t imagine what it was like.”

A silence followed. Batty’s eyes refocused on Crysta, though she wasn’t looking at him. “Well, seeing is believing,” He said, voice softer now, less jokey. “While back, you asked me if there were fairies around, I’d tell you, nope! Not a chance! No way! But you sure showed me, didn’t ‘ya? I saw you. I saw you!” That made her laugh, and that made him smile. “So who am I to blame you if you can’t believe what you didn’t see? But I saw it. I saw it, and --” A shiver. “Left it’s marks, it did. Can probably still find the stitches.”

“The...Stitches?”

Batty shifted, opening up his wings. His claws poked around a bit at his stomach, moving around some thinner patches of fur. Sure enough, there were slightly visible markings where he was sewn back together. “‘Least I was medicated for that one -- didn’t feel it, well, mostly anyway, think they screwed the dosage up somewhere near the end. Almost lost me! But the boys in the lab, they jump-started ‘ole Batty back up again. It’s alive! It’s alive!

The fairy softly gasped, her wings fluttering, a hand covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” She near whispered, and Batty wrapped his wings around himself again, looking off to the side. Crysta’s shoulders fell. Distraction, distraction, she needed a… “But you escaped, didn’t you? How did you do it?”

“How did I -- how did I do it ?” Batty grinned as he leapt down from his perch, flipping right side up and fluttering to his feet. “Why, it was a huge, impressive jailbreak, of course!” He began gesturing wildly with his wings and claws, to illustrate. “I decided, enough was enough! I picked the lock of my cage and I dug my way out! Through the bottom of the lab! Using only spoons ! You should have been there, it was all incredibly impressive --” A fizz of electricity went up his antenna, and then a zzt ! Batty straightened up, eyes defocusing again, wings folding close to his chest. “At the start of the evening, Yvette was here, by herself, waiting to offer you all a glass of champagne. I was in the hall. ...I know because I was there.” Zzt ! “I always wanted to go to Bombay, India, and become a movie star. You don’t go to Bombay to become a movie star, you go where we’re going: Hollywood! Sure, if you want to do it the easy way.” Zzt ! “Golden pure creamery butter! Rich, creamy, satisfying! That’s what it takes for the finest buttered popcorn, and that’s what we use! See for yourself why there’s no showtime treat to equal --” Crysta slowly moved herself in front of his eyes, and the bat focused on her blue glowing aura. His eyes refocused and he blinked a few times, sheepishly chuckling. “Uh -- much appreciated,” He said, a claw rubbing the back of his neck, voice and mannerisms a bit more subdued now. “Short-circuit side effects, that one was dizzying…” He murmured, then added, louder, “Truth be told, none of that’s true. I-I just wanted to sound like some kind of hero. I just flew outta’ there one day.”

“You flew out of there?” Crysta’s face scrunched up in thought. Batty nodded. “That...Doesn’t sound right. I mean, not after everything you told me. How did it happen?”

“How did it happen? How did…” A claw tapped at his chin in thought. Some electricity fizzled, but to his delight, nothing sparked. “Well, a window was open, ask a foolish question.”

“A...Window?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know, the holes humans cover with glass because they like looking at nature but they sure don’t like nature itself!” Batty laughed, eyes rolling. “It was opened up, air circulation, get that chemical smell out -- you know, as though it ever leaves ,” She very obviously didn’t know, but he didn’t dwell on it. “And I guess my cage was open too, or, at least, open enough -- show us what’s behind door number three! Door number three being the window, and the grand prize: freedom! Ah, better than any luxury car.” He put on a smile, laughing again.

He’d lost her somewhere near the end, but a few things still stuck out. “If something’s...Opened...Someone had to have... Opened it,” Crysta reasoned, to which Batty snorted and muttered something with a mocking shake of his head. “No, no, I’m just wondering. Did you open it?”

“Did I open -- a human window? With these claws?”

“But if you didn’t...Maybe a human did!”

“Oh, puh-leez , any of them? You’re too willing to see the good in things, Crysta.”

“I just want you open to the idea -- so if another one comes to Ferngully again -- maybe you won’t be so anxious?”

Another one’s coming !?” He nearly jumped out of his fur, antenna fizzing.

“No! No, no no no, it’s -- it’s alright --” She reached out one hand slightly, looking at Batty for consent to go on. He nodded a few times rapidly, and she put a hand on his wing, stroking his fur. His shaking began to subside, electrical sparks dimming. Once the electricity stopped crackling, they sat in silence for a few moments, Crysta’s hand on Batty’s wing. “...I’m sorry,” Crysta eventually said, voice soft. “I...Got a bit ahead of myself. I just want to help you feel...Safe.”

The bat blinked once or twice, staring at her, cocking his head. “What?” A surprised laugh left him. She looked up at him, confused. “A-are you serious? Well, you don’t need to help with that ! This place -- it feels like -- you know the scenes where the man comes off the plane and to his wife’s house all unexpectedly and the kid runs into his arms and the wife smiles and they all join in in just -- the biggest hug?” She shook her head, but Batty’s enthusiasm didn’t dip. “Well, that’s how this place feels to me! It -- it feels like fresh air and ripe mangoes and nights with a moon and stars and the endlessness of space --” His free wing was gesturing slightly, and as he tried to think of the right words, his antenna went zzt ! His face went serious, but his eyes didn’t seem to defocus quite so much. “ -- a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination.” With a look of concern, Crysta curled her fingers slightly, and the sensation against his wing was enough to ground him. His eyes refocused. “...Home,” He finally said. “It -- it feels like home. Wh-which is funny, since...I’unno if I ever knew what it... Felt like before this place.”

Crysta stared at Batty’s softly smiling face, and after just a second, she began to smile back, lighting up. She suddenly engulfed the bat in a hug, and Batty laughed, hugging her back.

“Liquid detergents!” He exclaimed between laughs, “See, see? This is what I meant! They all join in in just the biggest hug, and it feels like this one!”

“I’m so glad!” She gushed, burying her face into Batty’s chest as he spun around once. “I’m so glad,” Crysta repeated. “I hope you stay here forever.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere! I’m not a bat for long-distance travel, you dig?”

That made her laugh, and he opened up his wings, allowing her to pull away. She turned her head, looking out into the darkness of the rainforest -- just illuminated by the stars, the moon, and her own glowing aura. Then she said, “We should go back to sleep. Will you be alright on your own here?”

“On my -- I’m never on my own , you’re right below me, and --” He shifted, ruffling his wings, and said all in one breath, “But if you want to stick around just for tonight I wouldn’t really say no , I’ll get’cha breakfast in the morning.”

Crysta nodded in understanding, leaving only to fetch herself a pillow and blanket. When she came back, Batty was back upside-down on his perch -- and he quickly shut his eyes, trying to make it look like he totally wasn’t waiting for her to come back. A giggle left her, and she set up her little sleeping spot, laying down on the floor of the tree cavern. “Sleep well, Batty.”

“You too!”

And all was silent, save for the ambient sound of the rainforest and an occasional electric fizz.

Notes:

What? You don't write impulsive nostalgia-based fics focusing on your weird attachment to a side character? No? M'kay.

Anyway, this is a little sappy, but it was a lot of fun for me to write. Help this bat, man. Give him a pat.

I hope you enjoyed!