sixwordstories | (no subject)

I suppose that depends on your definition of normal.

Pretending we're like them. Pretending we aren't what we are. [This is how he says "nice to see you again, Six, how you been?"]

I prefer a looser definition [Hands in pockets, he ambles on over] But hey, who wants to be normal anyway? From what I've seen it looks pretty boring.

Boring. Pointless. [Unattainable, but maybe he'll let that one go unsaid.] Like I said. It's an illusion.

Normalcy is simply a label given to the majority of people who all do the same thing. And it's also vastly overrated.

Right and right again. And to think I used to think it was something I wanted. [One's tone leaves very little unsaid as to what he thinks about it now.]

I don't think any of us were prepared to deal with the real world. Do you ever... [He pauses, chewing the inside of one cheek.] ...do you ever think about what would have happened if we stayed?

Yes. [No hesitating there, although the word is said in a tone so neutral it's almost painful. Yes, he's thought about it, pros and cons. No, he hasn't decided whether he'd rather die than go back, or . . .

Well.] Do you?

Yeah. [There's something going on behind his eyes then, a memory that doesn't quite reach the surface before ducking back down again.] But we all had reasons for leaving. At least, I did. [Eight very good ones, in fact.]

. . . yeah. [Like going where his "siblings" went, that had been One's big deciding factor. But he'd had others; like the creeping sensation that life back there had been draining what was left of his personality away a little at a time.

Truth told, though? He's half-convinced they got out too late for him to salvage enough of a personality to matter.] And good ones for not going back.

If they ever catch up to us, I'm not letting them take me back. [He made up his mind about that a long time ago. Death doesn't scare him half as much as being forced to wipe his siblings' minds of all their memories does.]

I still can't help but wonder if they're all watching us right now. We haven't been as careful as we should have. [And if Four could use his skills and find out that information trail, he knew others could too.]

Makes a hell of a lot more sense than believing they let a couple billion dollars of R and D rabbit out and never bothered chasing it. They're still out there. Sooner or later we're gonna have to deal with that instead of running from it. [Because running sucks, honestly, and One's tired of it. And the thought that they might catch up to his siblings when he's not there to help deal with them? Keeps him up at nights.]

Now that we're all back together, going on the offensive might not be such a bad idea. Let's go find them before they find us. [He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.] Now I feel slightly paranoid. Great. Tonight, I'm gonna be sleeping with both eyes open.

Paranoia's not a bad thing when they're really after you. It's common sense at that point.

Yet the word still inspires images in my head of nerds in tin hats afraid the aliens are reading their minds.