Work Text:
At this point, Dot Patterson should have been used to elections being utterly disruptive in their life. Every season, they braced themself for what was coming next. Blessed by the Gods, dragged from team to team, even after they had found a home, even after they had found their family. And when that wasn’t enough, Blaseball demanded they be someone else entirely. So their name coming up in the Season 23 election, they didn’t bother to wait for the sentence to end.
“Vault Swap: York Silk will leave the Vault and take the place of… PolkaDot Patterson!”
The cameras had cut to the crowd outside of Blaseball HQ, who cheered, the roar giving way to chants of “OUR DORK! OUR DORK!”
Dot packed that night. They called Alto over for a family meeting, and the three of them talked everything over. They would go into the Vault, so that York could come out. They pushed Dot to reconsider: Alto could go in instead, and Dot pushed back. Alto needed to stay out here, and Dot needed to do this. Any argument they had, Dot had one ready against it. This was for York.
If Dot had noticed the pointed look between Alto and Workman, they didn’t let on. Alto sank onto the couch, idly stroking Beasley’s ears — Beasley snored away contently on Alto’s lap, everyone he cared about was around him and safe. Then, almost pointedly, Alto pulled out their phone and began typing furiously.
Dot hadn’t slept that night. None of them had. Instead, when Alto left, Workman watched Dot pace around their apartment, and when the Boss sent the limo in the morning, they rode together, holding hands, and sitting in silence.
The Vault was an absolutely massive building, white and shining in the sun, lined with gold, giant banners of Legendary players fluttering in the wind. A crowd had formed around it, and the limo slowed until security could part the crowd and let them through. At the entrance to the Vault, they had built a stage where the ceremony would take place. A red carpet led to the entrance, and Dot and Workman were escorted down it, past the waiting press and screaming fans. Normally, Dot would have spent hours signing anything the fans pushed at them, but today they kept their eyes forward, wanting nothing more than to get this all over with.
Dot and Workman were escorted to an office that had been turned into a sort of private green room, complete with a guard outside, and a couch and table and a nice spread for lunch inside. Workman took a quiet moment to hug Dot, just holding them close, not knowing if this would be the last time they could. Soon after they arrived, Alto was let in, Beasley trotting in behind them. On a closed circuit TV, they could see the crowd, hear the cheering. Dot turned the volume down, and then they flopped down on the couch. There was nothing to do but wait.
A commotion started outside, shouting, people scrambling to keep their footing. Workman peeked outside, just in time to see their guard fall to the ground. Greer Lott stood over him, baring her teeth. She looked at the guards rushing at her and hissed.
“It’s okay,” Dot said, coming to the door. “She’s with us.”
The guards reluctantly backed off, helping their buddy off the ground.
"Hey," Greer said, pushing into the room. "What the hell was that all about?"
"Ha," Dot said. "Apparently I'm a Legend now, and that's the kind of security Legends get."
Greer snorted. “With that kind of security, you must not be that much of a Legend..." She looked around the room. "This is weird.”
Dot only shrugged.
"Hey, you three," Greer said. "Can I chat with the Legend for a moment?"
Workman gave Dot a Significant Look, and left the room. Alto followed, scooping up Beasley, who did his best to be as difficult to pick up as possible.
When they were alone, Dot said, “What are you doing here?”
Greer slipped her hands into her pockets. “We used to be rivals,” she said.
Dot nodded. “This must be hard, seeing me become a Legend before you.”
Greer scoffed. “Yeah, that’s right, I’m here to shake my fist at you and curse your name. This isn’t over, Patterson, et cetera and so on.” She looked around. "You're really going through with it?”
Dot could see more people arriving on the red carpet, and they turned, putting the TV behind them. The cheering from the crowd swelled. “Yes, I am. This is for York-“
“Yeah, so what?” Greer narrowed her eyes, looking off to the side. "What's that little shit done for you? He goes off to Baltimore and he thinks he's too good for you, and when that wasn't enough he goes to Seattle because Baltimore wasn’t far enough away from Halifax.”
Dot frowned. They weren't sure what Greer was getting at. "York still needs people.”
"Well, he needs to act like it. All this ego stuff has turned him into an insufferable jerk." Greer folded her arms over her chest, dropping her eyes to the floor, and for a moment, she looked small and vulnerable. Dot gasped. "You can't be the one to take it for the team, when the team doesn't care. Will that brat even care you went in to the Vault for him?"
The cheering outside rose, and Greer looked annoyed, almost growling at it.
"Maybe it isn't about who cares-" Dot started.
"Holy shit, shut the fuck up," Greer said. "This isn't some noble sacrifice. You're not saving anyone here. What are you being devoted to? The Boss? BLASEBALL? Haven’t you given up enough of yourself to Blaseball? Is there any PolkaDot Patterson left to give out?”
"You wouldn't understand," Dot said.
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND," Greer said, throwing her hands up. "I don't get why you're doing this. This is stupid and you're-" She caught herself, looking surprised at herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away. "You asshole. You don’t even know who you're hurting.”
Dot watched Greer, hesitant, bewildered. "Greer, I didn't..." They reached out and put their hand on Greer's shoulder. Greer looked up at her, locking eyes.
“It’s either me, or it’s Alto,” Dot said. “If I go, Alto can stay here. I’ve had enough of this. The fans treat the name PolkaDot Patterson like a totem or… or a bartering chip. I’m nothing to them. And neither is Alto. Maybe the name needs to go away. And when it does, Alto can live a happy life.”
“You’re an idiot,” Greer said.
“Maybe,” Dot said. “Maybe I’m just tired of all of it.”
Greer shook her head and sighed. They eyed the TV over Dot’s shoulder. The crowd roared again, and Greer stared. She scrubbed her face with her hands, and then looked up at Dot, locking eyes again. A smile began to tug at her mouth.
“Well,” she said. “I think that was enough of a distraction.”
Dot blinked. “what”
From the TV, Dot could hear The Boss addressing the crowd. “Ladies and Gentlemen and Non-Binary friends, and of course, all of our Unknowable Void Creatures,” The Boss said proudly. “We are proud to welcome to the Vault PolkaDot Patterson!”
“WHAT” Dot rushed out of the room, out to the stage. Security grabbed them, holding them back. On stage, The Boss held Alto’s hand up, showing off their acquisition like a proud child. The crowd waved their hats, taking pictures on their phones, shouting and cheering for Alto. Dot struggled against the guards, trying to will themself past their grip.
“Alto!” Dot cried out.
Alto, looking startled, turned back to Dot.
“What are you doing?” Dot asked.
Alto let go of the Boss and walked slowly back to the back of the stage. “Hi, Dot.”
“What are you doing??”
"Well," Alto said, looking a little embarrassed. "There's only one PolkaDot Patterson that's in the ILB. And only one PolkaDot Patterson that can go into the Vault."
"Alto!"
"And there's only one PolkaDot Patterson that's made a real difference in people's lives. That one isn't me. But I can go into the Vault, and the one that changed people's lives for the better can stay out here and keep doing that."
"Alto, you can't."
Alto gave Dot a small, sad smile. "I already did." They held up their finger, smudged with blood, blood they had used to seal the contract. "Dot, you’ve done so much good in my life, and in Workman's life and Beasley's life and... and in York's life. And so many others. What have I done?"
“Alto, you’re amazing! You’ve played entire games almost by yourself, you-“
“But I’m still not the PolkaDot Patterson they want. And not the PolkaDot Patterson they deserve.” The let their eyes drift, and they laughed to themself. “And, you know, maybe I kind of want to be a Legend…”
Dot surged forward again, but the guards held them back. “I can pull you back! I can-“
“Dot,” Alto said, looking tired, and sad, but also so focused, a focus Dot knew too well. "For once, let someone sacrifice for you." They looked back at the Boss, who watched impatiently. "Goodbye, Dot. I love you. Thank you for everything."
Dot pulled their jaw tight, their hands, all of their hands, balled up in anger and betrayal, and if they were being honest, they were embarrassed at how humbled they felt.
"Oh," Alto said. "Shirai and Gia have my stuff. Watch my clubs for me? I might need them again."
Dot nodded.
Alto smiled, proud and triumphant. They turned back to the Boss, gave one more celebratory wave to the crowd, and started towards the Vault. Dot watched them go.
——
The guards didn’t dare force Dot out of the green room. They quietly closed the door and left Dot alone. Dot sat at a table, looking down at the commemorative Flun-ko Pop of Alto that had been given out to everyone in the crowd. It barely looked like them, but Dot wouldn't let it out their sight. They had cried all of the tears they had, but the despair was still there. Workman and Beasley were giving them room at their request, and Greer left satisfied at a job well done, but not before Dot punched her firmly in the jaw. Greer touched her busted lip, looking at the blood on her fingers.
"Hey! Where has THIS PolkaDot Patterson been?" She gave Dot an interested grin. Dot walked away.
Dot had so lost themself in their thoughts that they didn’t hear the polite knock on the door, and didn’t notice when the door opened.
“Mx. Patterson?”
Dot looked up, right at York Silk. York waited just inside the door, watching Dot carefully. They gasped. “Mx. Gloom and Ms. Lott said you’d be in here.”
Dot motioned to the chair across from them. York sat down.
"Did you come here to see me?" York asked. He was still covered in the carapace that he had placed over his scars, the scars from his time in the Pods, but somehow it was a look that was beginning to work for him. He carried it with a wary dignity.
“No…” Dot said softly. “I didn’t. But I’m glad you’re here.”
York nodded. “I am too. Mx. Patterson, uhm…I can’t stay around long because everything is crazy right now. I have a tour already? Apparently I have to go meet a lot of people. But I want to catch up with everyone. And… uhm, I’d like to come back to Halifax… if that’s okay.”
Dot studied York. This was not the York they had been expecting. He seemed shy, humble, gentle, the York they had known, the York they had put their life on the line for. He wasn’t a kid anymore, clearly, but under everything, he was still their Dork. “Yes,” Dot said. “Yes, of course. There’s not a lot of the Talkers you knew left, but we’d all be happy to have you.”
York smiled, looking satisfied, and also relieved. “Is your number the same? I’ll text before I get there.”
Dot nodded. “It’s the same.”
York stood, and he offered his hand to Dot. Dot tilted her head, and they shook it. York pulled them up, and hugged them. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, but it means a lot to me that you’re here.”
Dot smiled, just a little, despite everything. “Me too. I’m glad I’m here, too.”