Scenes
430Standing still and quiet, Bortor looks at Nike as he sleeps. The hoophead's form barely fits the bed. Both his feet poke out from under the blanket as he's sprawled on his belly, hugging the pillow.
Bortor takes his time etching the peaceful scene into his memory. A part of him secretly hopes that Nike will wake up. Raise his head sleepily, spot Bortor standing there and lift the blanket in a silent invitation. Maybe he'll even mumble “Come here”, and his voice will hold that trust and fondness that it expresses so easily.
Bortor's about to betray that trust and throw away the fondness.
He shifts his new travel pack on his shoulder. It's full of stolen things, and that's appropriate, as Bortor's head is full of stolen kisses and stolen affection. He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have slept with his uncle. He shouldn't have become his lover, and he shouldn't have enjoyed it as he had. He shouldn't have opened up to that love.
Bortor turns and he walks away, leaving Nike asleep in the too small bed.
437
When Bortor returns home, it's in clean clothes and on horseback, so nobody suspects that he had been begging for food for the past two years. He keeps his poncho on for now, so that his family can't see how thin he has become. He tells stories, but they aren't whole. He doesn't tell anybody that he fell in love with the green Armikrogian that uncle Bobuslaw recommended to him as a guide. He doesn't talk about his little adventure on Mount Aratat. Those memories are for him alone.
He suspects that Nike hates him now. He absolutely dreads what will happen when they meet again.
Still, sometimes he has dreams where he's held in a warm and tight embrace. They leave him feeling guilty, and happy, and secure.
Beside the fading memories, worn thin by having been replayed again and again, the occasional dreams are the only thing left to him. And that's good, Bortor thinks. That's good.
He tries not to feel wistful when Alan and Ceola announce happily that they are getting married.
500
Bortor can't quite believe how wildly his heart is hammering in his chest. He and his family have gone to the Neverhood New Year's party as every year. As every year, he was prepared to hear uncle Krevel complain sadly that he wished Nike was there to celebrate with them. He was not prepared to see Nike celebrate with them.
The hoophead greets the Ottoborg clan loudly and hurries to shake their hands, explaining that yes, he has just got here, Klogg is over there dancing with Klaymen. Bortor waits, jittery, until it's his turn. When it comes, he extends his trembling hand. But Nike ignores it completely and instead sweeps him into a hug, disregarding the alarmed cries of the family. The embrace is over before Bortor can lift his arms to return it. Nike glances down at the four punctures in his belly, then looks up to give Bortor a brief smile. He has not forgotten.
And even though Bortor barely gets to speak with Nike for the rest of the day, he's happier than he has been for years.
500
Bortor watches from afar as the twins, Alan, Ceola, and Plekti play in the crisp January snow. Compared to them he has two extra layers of clothing but he still feels cold. Some health issues never passed even after he regained his weight. Being broken apart and cast back together took its toll on him. He could go and play with them, and it would warm him up, too, but then he'd start having trouble breathing and the twins would make fun of him while Ceola would be worried. He doesn't need that. So he stays where he is, shivering secretly.
The twins are holding each other's hands and creating a giant snowman when they nod at each other and let go. The snowman comes tumbling down, much to Plekti's delight.
“Come at us,” Ottimo yells at Alan, falling into a fighting stance.
“Again?” Alan asks, exasperated. “Just get a teacher or something!”
“But we need someone to spar with,” Tuborg whines. “If we can't learn to fight on our own, we'll be screwed if we get caught apart again. Come on Alan. Please?”
As Bortor watches the Neverhoodian and his brothers brawl clumsily in the snow, his mind pieces together a plan. A part of him is inadequately excited about it. Another part is horrified that even after all these years he would be so eager. His affair with Nike ended. It ended on the morning he sneaked off and abandoned the relationship. He should not be so happy about getting Nike to stay on the Brokenhood for a few years as a trainer.
He can't help feeling thrilled, though.
500
When Nike does arrive, the snow has long melted and it's spring. There was some hold-up with Hoborg. Apparently he wanted Nike to stay home for some time before he had to say goodbye again. Everyone in the family agreed, and Bortor was too proud to contradict them.
Now that he's here, he's more grim than Bortor remembers him. He seems somehow sad, and he's bothered by something. When Bortor gathers the courage to ask, the hoophead gives him a look and says reluctantly:
“I can't talk about it. I would, but, I can't.”
Bortor grows incredibly curious what secret could be grave enough that Nike wouldn't talk about it. But he doesn't pry. He has time. The twins have made it clear that they're talking years when it comes to their training. Half jokingly, they tell Nike not to spare them.
The twins certainly doesn't expect that two weeks after Nike arrives, he'll announce that the training will take place in the family's mountain chalet, as far from civilisation as possible. Bortor doesn't expect it either, and it's a nasty surprise. To top it off Nike declares that the training will take exactly one year, and after it's finished the hoophead will depart on another journey through the klay universe.
Suddenly Bortor's options are very limited.
Which pairing do you prefer?
Nike x Klogg
Nike x Bortor
He considers coming to Nike's room the night before he and the twins depart, but he decides against it. He spends half that night staring at the ceiling. Angry and lovelorn, he curses himself for putting so much hope into this whole business.
500
There has been no contact from Nike and the twins since the letter that they arrived safely and started training. Every time Bortor gets nervous about it, Ceola assures him that if there was a problem, they'd let the family know. Nike is a Neverhoodian and the twins are incredibly crafty. If Bortor survived for seven years alone in the wild, they would definitely be fine in the well-built and well-stocked mountain chalet.
Then a small miracle happens. The radio in the living room crackles on one October day, and it's the twins who have managed to build a radio up in the mountains. They speak of setting up a group call, where they'd all get to chat about how they're doing. Ottoborg checks the radio connection to the Neverhood and confirms that Nike will be able to speak with his brothers as well. Bortor looks forward to it like a child, and he spends his days scolding himself for it. He. Should. Not. Care so much.
So when Nike doesn't speak to him at all during the call and then leaves completely after listening to Klogg blabber about parties on the Neverhood for five minutes straight, there's a part of Bortor that's cocky and satisfied. “See? I told you not to get your hopes up,” it tells him.
He stays through the call nonetheless, trading quips and jeers with the twins. It seems like Nike is driving them very hard. They say repeatedly that he's heartless until Bortor can't take it and lashes out, telling them to shut up since they know nothing at all. Luckily the call gets disconnected shortly after that.
500
For the 500th time, Bortor takes out the small letter and holds it in his hands. He knows the content by heart. “I miss you. Please come. Nike.” It's not too hard to remember. In fact, it's very hard to forget, even for a moment.
Bortor pats Clementine and the horse nuzzles against him, then stomps her feet in the snow impatiently. She wants to go into the stable already. She's tired after the long climb into the mountains.
Knowing that she could easily get sick in the cold, Bortor takes care that Clementine is dry, warm and fed before he walks to the front door and gives it a knock. He waits. When he's about to knock a second time, the door opens and Nike is standing in it.
“Bortor? What are you doing here?” he asks in stunned surprise and Bortor knows that something is very, very wrong.
It turns out that he has been played by Ottimo and Tuborg. The twins own up, after a while of being shouted at, that they brought Bortor because they thought it would make Nike more of a happy man and less of a bully. The hoophead hisses that if they want to leave, they are always free to go. Bortor doesn't think that he's ever seen him so angry, and it frightens him.
“I'll just leave,” he says, wondering whether Clementine would feel up to a journey down the mountain.
But Nike waves his hand. “No. I'd be glad if you stayed here. Besides it's unreasonable to climb down when you've just climbed up. I won't have you exhaust yourself and then get caught in a snowstorm.”
Bortor has to admit that there is some point to that.
501
Slamming the door closed behind himself, Bortor shudders violently and shakes snow off his woollen cap.
“How is the weather out there?” Nike calls from somewhere in the house.
“It's crazy!” Bortor responds, hanging his coat on a peg. “We couldn't see two meters ahead of us.”
“Then it's a relief that you're back safely.”
“Yeah,” Bortor smiles to himself. “Am I late for making dinner?”
“Yes, you are. But it's fine, I'm fixing something up.”
“Oh, alright.” Bortor comes into the kitchen and sits at the table, watching Nike chop onion at the counter.
“Would you like some tea?” the hoophead asks over his shoulder.
“Yes, that sounds wonderful,” Bortor says fiercely. “With honey and…”
“…and eleven drops of lemon juice,” Nike finishes for him, smiling. “I know.”
Bortor is fighting down a blush when the twins make their entrance.
“Hi brother traveller,” Tuborg moans, taking a chair.
“Sorry we're not excited to see you more,” Ottimo say as he sits next to his twin brother. “It's like you only left ten minutes ago.”
“And the ten minutes were filled with five hours of pain and misery,” Tuborg finishes.
There's a sharp crack as Nike slams the cutting board against the kitchen counter. Bortor jumps up. When he regains his composure, he sees the twins staring at the hoophead apathetically. They are too tired to even flinch.
“Quit complaining,” Nike says and the irritation in his voice is palpable.
Instead of complaining Ottimo asks in his most annoying voice: “What's for dinner, uncle Nike?”
“Sandwiches with onion and tomatoes,” Nike replies curtly. “Plus ham, lettuce and mustard for Bortor.”
“How come he gets all the good stuff when we're the ones working our asses off?” Tuborg protests.
“One, you aren't working your asses off.” Nike sets down a cup of tea in front of Tuborg so roughly that it spills over. By the clear colour Bortor can tell that it doesn't even have sugar in it, much less honey. “Two, he needs it more than you do.” Ottimo gets his own cup next, also with an angry slam. “Three, he doesn't act like a bitch on every occasion he gets.” Bortor's tea with honey and lemon is placed down gently, and Nike's frown relaxes a bit when he meets Bortor's eye.
“Four,” one of the twins mumbles darkly, “he's much better in bed.”
Bortor freezes with his tea halfway to his lips. His eyes dart around.
“Whoever said that,” Nike growls and his voice is bubbling with anger, “is not getting dinner tonight. If neither of you confesses, you're both without dinner.”
The twins meet each other's eyes in alarm. Then Ottimo gets up.
“I did it,” he announces and leaves the kitchen. Tuborg's gaze follows him while the younger twin chews his lip guiltily.
When food comes on the table, none of the three find themselves with an appetite.
It's deep in the night when Bortor is awoken by the sound of his door opening and closing. Someone walks quietly up to his bed, then the springs creak as he sits on the edge. He heaves a sigh and by the voice Bortor can tell that it's Nike.
“What is it?” Bortor asks quietly.
“I'm… sorry I haven't been honest with you,” Nike replies, and his voice is smaller and more broken than Bortor has heard in weeks. “At least you, of all people, deserve to know what's going on. With me I mean.”
Bortor's stomach makes a vault but he's not willing to admit it, not yet. “About time,” he says shakily. “I'm listening.”
Nike sighs again. “Just… steel yourself, alright? I don't want to break any more hearts than I have to.”
“…Fair enough.”
Reluctantly, as if untying a knot on his tongue, Nike begins talking. “I was supposed to guard Klogg and to keep him company. When we returned to the Neverhood after thirty years, that would be it. My job would be over. But we ended up spending a lot more time together. And somewhere along the way I came to like him. I didn't realise how much I got used to him. But when we returned to the Neverhood and he ran off to have fun with Klaymen, it was like a cold splash in the face. He belongs there, he loves the place, and…” The next words sound like he's forcing them out. “…And he's in love with Klaymen. So. There's no place for me in his life anymore.”
Nike makes a pause to get his breathing in check before he goes on. “I thought that it would be fine if I just gave it some time. If I spent some time without him. I was wrong. I started missing him, and it only got worse. I'm afraid the twins are taking the brunt of it. They asked for a hard training, they asked not to be spared, but… well. They can tell that I'm fucked up inside. That's why they called you here.”
A terrifying thought flashes through Bortor's mind – has Nike told the twins about their affair? After all Bortor's done to keep it secret?
“I don't know how much they actually know. I never asked and I never will, because that's your war to fight. But they're good at guessing and I can't…” There's a muffled sound as Nike puts his face in his hands. “I can't do that to you again. That time seventy years ago I thought it was fine because we were two consenting adults. But is wasn't fine. If it had been fine, Klogg wouldn't have been able to make you leave.”
Alright, so much for steeling himself. That cut deep.
“I kept thinking about what I'd done wrong… And I came to understand that I had underestimated… well, pretty much everything. It was a fling from the very beginning and I was stupid to expect it to last.”
So. On one hand Nike considers it a fling today. On the other, he expected it to last back then. Bortor knows that he can take both either as good things, or as bad things. He doesn't manage to decide before Nike continues.
“But now you're here… and you have been very kind and helpful. I can't help thinking that you haven't forgotten either, and maybe you wouldn't mind starting something up again. In fact, you probably came here expecting it, seeing that note. But I'm not…”
It doesn't happen very often that Nike is a a loss for words. He grasps for an expression for a few seconds, and then laughs helplessly.
“I don't know which one of you I would be cheating on!”
Spurred by the despair in that laughter Bortor speaks up: “I don't think that you'd be cheating either of us. I can't lay claims on you. Neither can Klogg. In fact, does he even know about it? Have you told him?”
Nike pauses in surprise. When he laughs again, it's startled. Amused, but disturbed. It's not a nice laugh.
“I never thought I'd live to hear that from someone else. No, I haven't told him. Half because I haven't had the occasion, half because I don't need to.”
Bortor shudders. “So he knows you like him and he still throws you away like trash?”
“I'm not sure if he knows exactly,” Nike hesitates. “Like I said, I haven't told him outright. But what's the point? I'm 100 % certain that he doesn't care back. He's spent his entire existence, this life and the past, trying to return to the Neverhood. He loves his homeland more than anything. There's no more place in his heart. It's like Nehmen…” He breaks off, and only after a few seconds adds in a soft voice: “Nehmen and Caline. He also doesn't see anyone else, even if there might be one.”
Bortor rubs at his curl, gathering his courage. “But then you aren't held back by anything. And I'm still here, with you.”
“I wish that it worked this way,” Nike tells him, and it's then that it dawns on Bortor: this man here is too heartbroken to repeat the affair they had seventy years ago. Despite his best efforts he's still too hung up on a person who doesn't love him back to feel free and screw whoever he wants.
But then there's hope.
Because, and the boy can see this clearer now than ever before, Bortor has never really given up on Nike. Not truly.
501
If it were up to Bortor, he'd stay at the mountain chalet until the designated year of training passed and then climb down together with Nike and the twins. But Clementine isn't taking the cold very well and Bortor is forced to take her down to the valley to her stable. When he wakes up in his own bed on the following morning, his throat is scratchy and his head feels thick. Ceola is quick to diagnose a cold and emphatically recommend that Bortor stay in bed.
So it happens that Bortor watches the first leaves bud from the window of his room, while everyone scratches their heads about how he could have survived up there for so long, and only come down with a sickness after he returned below. Bortor is tempted to say that it was the power of love, but he's careful like always, so he only thinks it.
When tulips start to bloom, Bortor knows that Nike is going to return soon. It's like that hope gives his body strength, and by the time the hoophead sends word that they are on their way, Bortor is up and fit as a fiddle. Well. A fiddle that was once smashed to pieces and then glued back together. Gred jokes with him that they're both going to be “the sick guys”.
Even though Bortor has seen them three months ago, he's still impressed at how wide the twins' shoulders have become. Their limbs are thicker, too, and they can run for hours and never get tired. They are also terribly, viscerally afraid of Nike. Bortor wonders if that will ever go away. But they wanted a training harsh enough to mould their bodies, and they got it. They have nothing to complain about. And indeed, after hearing words of praise from their family, Bortor never hears them complain again. Only the fear remains.
The hoophead himself now has to teleport onto the Neverhood, say his goodbyes and leave his home again. He has decided to make a definite thick line behind Klogg and move on. But even though he knows what he must do, he's putting it off. Honestly Bortor can't blame him.
When Bortor asks, Nike agrees readily that he'll drop by at the Brokenhood before setting off on his next journey. No dates are spoken, but Bortor guesses that Nike means months of time. Thus reassured, Bortor doesn't try and get closer. He'll have time for that after the hoophead returns to him, free of all ties.
501
When Nike appears in the teleporter and he's smiling, Bortor guesses that he's happy to have the weight of goodbyes off his chest. But then he notices that Nike hasn't brought his backpack.
Nike's smile fades a little when he sees Bortor there to welcome him, but it springs back onto his face without him meaning to. It's then that it starts dawning on Bortor. That awfully happy for someone who's just said goodbye to the love of their life.
“He'll be coming with me,” Nike announces. “We discussed it and he's willing to leave the Neverhood if it means we get to stay together.”
Bortor hates the quiet, muffled joy in his voice. He reminds himself that this is why he didn't try anything before Nike got matters solved on the Neverhood. It doesn't help. Because he fully intended to try something after Nike got matters solved on the Neverhood.
“You can come with us if you want,” Nike offers.
Bortor asks for time to think.
502
Bortor's head no longer hurts when he comes back to the Brokenhood. But he is, more than ever, utterly certain that Klogg is a certified bastard who does not deserve Nike.
But in the end, who he chooses as his partner is Nike's decision. Bortor is on no grounds to speak against it.
That night, he dreams of being held in a tight and warm embrace for the last time.
