Chapter Text
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
There's a lot you’ve forgotten, but you haven't forgotten yourself yet. You've been repeating it over and over in your head, a steady rhythm to march to, following the syllables, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. Your name is PolkaDot Patterson. As long as you remember that, you remember why you're still going.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson. You are going home. You don't know where home is, but you'll know it when you see it. You've seen all the worlds, you saw them the day your own broke, you saw them the day you -- you --
Well, you've been seeing them lately. Passing through them. Learning to take your fourth-dimensional tentacle-hands, pull back the curtains of reality, punch through the windows if they refuse to open for you. Hundreds of worlds. Some of them look the same. Some of them look different. All of them are full of the wrong versions of people.
You don't know how long you've been travelling this path. Too long. Several eternities, you think.
Workman said you'd have forever, someday. You're trying to find it. It already feels like forever since they said that. They said it, and... and they disappeared not long after, them and the others, gone to the place you're trying to find.
You remember you went back to most of your home, after it all. Sat with your team. Watched another election, watched your old team ascend and be replaced by another. Watched Nagomi be denied her reward, snatched away to York’s old team. Watched the Pods fall.
You caught York, when he fell. Helped him stand up and find himself again. Watched him start to laugh with his new friends. Ran to follow him when you met his old team on the field and they still welcomed him with open arms. In turn, he followed you to your first team’s dugout, where Jess had ended up, so you could both talk to her. She understood.
Maybe they weren't okay. But they were back, and they were themselves, even if their selves had changed while they were gone.
The new boss promised peace and prosperity, and you never really believed it, but you still felt betrayed when it fell apart. People started dying again. The Crabs crashed back down, flooding your world and bringing three new teams along for the ride.
The fans sent you to one of them, finding new ways to make your life miserable.
The Core Mechanics were good to you, though. They couldn't even remember what it was like where they came from, but they welcomed you into the chaos all the same. You had to find your own way together as your new team was torn apart by their first season back, you and them and -- and Jaylen, alive again, and you talked to her, didn't you? Found an unexpected friend in a new place. Where did she go? Where did they all go?
Focus. Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and you're going to find them.
You draw aside another curtain, step through an open window. This is the wrong place. You know it as soon as you get there. That's okay. You'll keep going until you find the right one.
You got to come back. You remember that. The Talkers got you back, and it was beautiful at first, and -- and --
He died. You watched him go up in flames. Ultimately you couldn't save him this time, either. Nobody could. But you all fought hard, and you won it for him. Your dork. Yours, the Talkers’, the Fridays’, Nagomi’s. Never the Shelled One’s.
You won the next season, too, and he got to see it on TV, because the fans brought him back, made him a Crab, gave him a debt to pay.
You punch your way through the next window, probably harder than you need to. You don't like to think about him. What they did to him. He was stuck there on the idol board forever, getting those dangerous ego boosts, and eventually he --
Well. You don't know what ultimately happened to him in your world, do you?
You won three championships in a row, and you did not ascend, because the third one was with the Steaks. They stole you, too. You had a perfect season on the mound, a glorious season. And then --
And --
And then --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Dot . That's who you really are. You’re Dot. They tried to replace you -- they -- they replaced -- you're not the only PolkaDot Patterson --
But you always knew that, didn't you? You always knew there were other yous in other worlds. You just -- you -- you -- didn't think they would --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson. Dot. Don't forget where you're going. You're going home. It's okay. You're going home.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson. It's been written on so many doors. Even when you came back to the Talkers, you got a different door. Your name is PolkaDot Patterson. Hold the words in your mind. You remember how they looked, the first time you saw them on every door.
You wonder if Jess remembers. She got dragged around more than you did, didn't she? Mints. Wings. Mints. Pies. Tigers. Lift. She got to go back to her old teams too, for a while. You talked about it. Didn't you? What did you say?
You don't remember.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Remember that.
Remember --
Remember --
Remember --
PolkaDot Zavala. That's their name. Zav. PDZ. Zavala. You remember them. You can't forget them. They… they're okay, right? You used to talk to them. What did you say? What was the last thing you said to them? You don't remember. Weren't they okay? They were when you left, when you --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
You're forgetting someone, aren't you? Someone in the Shadows. Someone -- he -- how are you supposed to remember? It's been so long since you saw --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson. You tug at the next curtain. It never ends. How long have you been doing this? Why are you doing it? Why -- why do you keep trying? All the worlds blur together. Why can't you just give up? You're so tired. You don't think you've ever been this tired. Where are you going that's so important?
Home. You're going home. Don't forget that. Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and you're going home.
They --
They tried --
They took you away --
The Wills --
When you were a Steak -- wasn't Jess a Steak, once -- when -- you were --
They --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
You're so tired.
They --
You fought them. You tried so hard.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
You wanted to stay.
You wanted everyone to stay.
They --
They took --
You don't want to think about it.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Where are you going?
Where did you come from?
You have to think about it.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and they -- and they tried --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and they took you away.
Alternation.
That's what it was.
You pause in front of the next window. They --
They threw you through a window, once. A crack in the world. You tried to break it apart. Tried to seal it away before they used it to ruin your life even more.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and they wanted you gone.
You fought them. You --
You couldn't --
They said --
The gods said --
You couldn't --
You couldn't stay.
You close your eyes in front of the curtains, now. Remembering.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and you were not allowed to stay, because you were not allowed to pitch there anymore, and if you were not pitching, you could not stay. Like how Workman was not allowed to bat there anymore, and they could not stay.
You thought you'd find them right away.
You didn't.
The gods brought you -- somewhere else. You had to play there. For so long. You don't like to think about it. But you didn't forget.
You didn't forget where you were before. Didn't forget who you were.
Didn't you?
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
You've been searching for so long.
The world ended, you think. Something big happened. Something -- bad? good? You don't remember. But it was big, and loud, and bright, and then it was nothing at all, and nobody else was there, and you --
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
You're going to find them. All of them.
You pull back another curtain. Yank at the window. It's a stubborn one. You dig your fingers into the cracks and pry it apart. You don't know where you're going.
You're going home.
Where is it?
You've been through so many windows. So many worlds. You’ve seen people that looked like the ones you knew, but -- but they were the wrong people, and they didn't know how to find the right ones.
Why should this be any different?
Someday. Someday it will be different. They promised.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and you open another window, and slip into another world, and keep walking. Your legs aren't tired. How long have you been walking? Your body isn't tired. Only your mind is tired. It's like blaseball. You get tired, but not enough to stop. You can't stop. But this time it's your choice, isn't it?
What's in this world? It's… hazy. Light. As if the air itself is made of curtains, as if you could find yourself somewhere different with every step. You take a breath. Do you need to do that? Are you still alive? You don't remember.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and someone is calling to you.
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...Dot!”
You blink. Dot. That's you. PolkaDot Patterson. But that's who you are in a lot of worlds, isn't it?
They probably don't really know you.
“Dot!”
You see them approaching. Workman Gloom. You've seen hundreds of Workmans Gloom -- Workman Glooms? Workmen Gloom? -- by now. None of them have been yours.
“It's you!” they say, smiling that familiar smile. “I knew you'd find your way here. I knew it.”
“Is it me?” you ask. “Is it you? I have seen so many of you.”
Their face falls. “Oh, Dot. It's been so long, I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think so much time would go by. But it's me, I promise.”
“Prove it’s you,” you whisper. Is it them? You don't know. You want it to be. They’re all so similar. Workman Gloom is wonderful in every world, but only one of them is yours .
“Okay,” they say seriously. “Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, but you go by Dot. You played for the Mints in your first season, and then you were blessed, and stolen by the Crabs. You had one season with them before going to the Moist Talkers, where you stayed far longer than you ever expected. I feedbacked to your team after you had been there for a season and a half. We were the first two trades they had, and the only people who really understood what the other was going through. The first time we practiced, you said I was better than nobody, and I told you I didn't know what I’d done to earn such a compliment from you.”
You’re shaking. This all sounds familiar. It sounds right .
“And I was joking, of course,” they say. “I knew you were full of compliments, and affection, and love, and you were just afraid to let it all out again. And I was afraid too, for a little while, because I'd lost the same things you had. But we gained each other. Found a home together. Learned to let things out.”
Your tears seem to have let themselves out without your permission. There’s moisture streaming down your face. You didn't know that was a thing you could still do.
“We made it to the semifinals in the fifth season. You pitched twenty-three innings against August Sky, and it was glorious, and I caught the last two outs to help you win, because we're a team, all of us. We still are. We've got multiple teams and we're spread out all over the place now, but we're finding our way back to each other.”
You think you remember what comes next, and you don't know if you're ready to hear all of it, but they continue anyway.
“And then... a lot of bad things happened to our team. And we looked at each other, and admitted that even if we were running out of time, we wanted to spend that time together.”
“And we did,” you whisper, wiping your eyes. “And then…”
“And then we did run out of time, for a while. But not before I promised you I'd always find my way home to you. And I did, once, and I couldn't stay, but I promised you I would do it again, and then it would be forever.”
“And... and this is forever?” You don’t know if you can believe it's true.
“It's the start of forever,” they promise. “But it won't be just you and me. We'll find them all. Your friends and family, and mine, and everyone's. Beasley, Zavala, Jess, Morse, York... Everyone. I promise. The other Hall Stars are here, too. We know where everyone else is, we just couldn’t reach them, but now that we've got your dimension-hopping abilities on our side, you can help bring them back.”
Your friends. Your family. Yes. This is why you kept going. This is what was worth dragging yourself through infinite worlds for. For them. For them, always. You couldn’t just sit back and give up again. You don’t want to be anywhere else but with all of them, forever.
“Everyone?”
“Everyone,” they promise. “It might take a bit of time, but it'll be easier than your path here. We're learning the way together.”
“Together.”
They're smiling at you. This is real. This is them. You've never felt so sure of anything in your life, even though your memories haven't quite finished trickling back in yet.
“Workman,” you say incredulously. “You were right. We found each other again.”
“Always will.” They reach out a hand to you, and you take it without hesitation, and it feels solid and warm and alive and so very much like them, and you grip it tightly, and let them guide you to wherever you need to be next. You think you hear barking somewhere in the distance, several worlds away, but not so far you can’t reach through and pull you both towards it.
Your name is PolkaDot Patterson, and you are finally, forever, going home.