Part 5: Powerless

Cold. That was what struck Toby when they played Tebratta. Tebeish was a small planet with a small equator to match. So much so that non-human vehicles could pass between hemispheres with ease. Tebratta was a town on the lower hemisphere, not terribly far from Da-hwinn, which housed the human settlement that he technically still lived in. Admittedly, the miserable winter weather didn't make for the best concert environment. Their dinky metal platform hadn't been rained out, but hanging clouds, settling frost, and puddles that could drown him meant they had to fight harder to keep the crowd enthralled.

Mae had already sung her last. Ending shows with a massive instrumental finale had been a tradition of theirs since they started. Playing without a vocal line to support massively changed their dynamic. She hit so many notes that he honestly doubted any human drummer could compete. Her feet were a blur on the kickdrums. Rolls, fills, and crashes blazed a trail for his humble groove.

He kept it simple. A good bassline was all the crowd needed to follow along through the madness of Mae's solo. Offstage, he was just another weak little human. But here above the crowd, instrument in hand, he could make them move however he liked. He could forget those creeping feelings of powerlessness and feel tangible again.

But it wouldn't last, of course. Mae eventually slowed down, finishing with one final crash that snapped those tree sized drumsticks in two. The thought of what that strength could do against him would have made him shudder if he didn't need to keep up appearances.

“Goodnight Tebratta!"

Mae waved back to the crowd, looking and sounding completely overjoyed. Stage Mae had returned in spectacular fashion. Persona or not, he was happy to see his friend in high spirits after what Hare'ker put her through. Off the kit and with freshly wiped hands, she hopped to her left and offered him a ride with all the flair of a true showman.

She whisked him away once again. Huge, stocky, indomitable fingers surrounded him in their protective hold. Her hand used to feel so much safer, but it was hard to feel safe when he felt like a burden. She never levied any complaints, though? Of course she didn't. She had training. They probably beat out any of the complaints she had about pampering a tiny, useless alien long ago. Toby did love bullying himself with these thoughts, but he didn't have time to entertain them. Mae had walked them down the stairs at the back of the stage, bringing them back to their patiently waiting road crew.

“Great job guys!" Endi said, upbeat and chipper.

Cass's mech motioned as if to pat him on the back. Though reason prevailed, and he stopped himself. “That was pretty decent. For you, anyway."

Cass hadn't converted him or anything, but all that talk about training and how the giants perceived his kind rattled through his mind. They would have to follow up at some point, whether he liked it or not. “Yeah, whatever." Toby murmured, as he tried his hardest to bury those lingering thoughts. “Party's tonight. Remember the drinks."

He heard a concerned whine from above him. Mae obviously wasn't a fan of the idea. “Do we have to do this?"

Mae felt tense again. Even with his newfound doubts, he still felt the instinct to calm her down. Some things just stuck. “Mae, it's gonna be fine. They got rid of Hare'ker, you can't tell me nothing came of that."

Mae brought him in a little closer to her stomach, tightening her protective hold.

“Firing one man won't guarantee your safety." Endi lamented, causing Mae to tense up around him even more.

“Agreed. Who knows how many shitebags like him'll be there?" Cass added.

Toby barely contained his exasperation. They could be incredibly overbearing sometimes. “Yeah, he's just one guy. But that must have sent a message, right?" He strained to persuade them.

Mae looked away from him. Cass's mech turned to Endi, who herself looked quite unsure about what he'd just said. Toby didn't blame her, he didn't know if he even believed it himself. But he still had hope. He needed it. “Besides. Attendance is mandatory anyway. Says it in the rules. So, we're fucked."

Mae and Endi shuffled uncomfortably. Cass scoffed. But they all backed down. It was strange, hearing them say the same thing for different reasons. Annoying, but strange. He hated these parties as much as they did. However, they were a mandate. If Cal-Gea wanted him to go, then he would go. That didn't change just because he was a squishy little human.

“Well, why don't all four of us go at the same time? It'll be much safer." Mae offered.

Toby moaned. She was making compromises for his sake. That wouldn't do. “Won't we be late to our own party?"

Mae laughed softly. He would've loved to hear it before, but it didn't bode well for his plans. “Endi and Cass were fine last time. It's not even 'our' party, technically. It says it in the rules!"

Using his own logic against him. He hated it when people did that.

“Mae's right." Endi doggedly agreed, “We should go together, Toby."

Endi backing her was no surprise. It was two to one, but he still had a ray of hope. Cass, his fellow human in a world of giants. Endi would listen to him, surely. “Come on Cass, back me up here." He pleaded, embarrassingly desperate.

“Nah, I'm with the girls. No one'll be squishing you on our watch." Was Cass's disappointing reply.

Toby rolled his eyes. He hated having these exceptions made for him, but he'd been outvoted three to one. His only option, as he saw it, was to admit defeat. When he agreed to go with them, Endi wasted no time. She pat Cass's mech on the arm as if he could feel it. Perhaps he could. Toby would never know.

“Let's start packing Cass." Endi said sweetly, holding the mech's hand, as she tried to drag him up the stairs.

Cass's reluctant mutterings echoed off the walls. He could have stood still all day, and Endi wouldn't have budged him in the slightest. Yet Cass never let his guardian down. The way he dragged his feet up the stairs, while an excitable Endi took the lead did cheer Toby up a little bit. Now that their friends were off doing their actual jobs for once, Toby and Mae were alone once again. Her nerves didn't fade. Her ears folded again. A few steps below trembling, but a clear indicator that she was still troubled.

“Something wrong?"

Her eyes darted back and forth. She held him closer to her chest and leaned in. “Toby, please. You don't have to prove anything to me with these parties."

Toby just turned his back on her in the hopes that she'd stop. It worked, and he didn't have to meet those massive eyes anymore. He knew she might have convinced him if he hadn't.

--

Mae didn't quite know what to make of the venue for their latest afterparty. It was another bar, decked in holographic garnishes that the club they went to before would have eaten up. It clashed horridly with the woodgrain aesthetic, but she kept her critique to herself. Security had never been tighter. They had not one, but two neishor bouncers at the door. A ripple effect what happened a few days ago, no doubt. Hare'ker must have had a criminal record, since they were scanning for those now too. The bouncer from the other nights was absent. A shame. She'd just began to like him.

Entering the bar was a different story. Not a soul was clad in formal wear, and the place was alive with conversation. Even walking among them was still an intimidating prospect. Endi locked arms with Cass's mech like a lost child. Toby had fallen into a dour silence. She wasn't quite as used to his body language as he had to hers, but she knew resignation when she saw it. Perhaps he'd only insisted on coming here because he'd set some silly goal for himself? She really wanted him to talk about it, but that wasn't how Toby worked.

Seating was a pain. Just about every table in the room was occupied. Cass wanted to leave his mech, but there was nowhere he could safely park it. Endi prodded her on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper some advice. “We might have to sit with someone else."

Mae sighed. She knew Endi was right, but that hardly helped her nerves. Deciding to share a table gave way to a whole new problem: Finding a table with the least potentially 'handsy' occupants. That task proved about as tough. The occupants might have been decent people, but, sadly, prior parties brought out an ugly judgmental streak Mae never knew she had. She kept seeing Hare'kers in every shadow and ArKios around every corner. That was, until she caught an amazing sight in the far-left, stowed away where nobody could bother them. Mae just had to call them out.

“Humans!"

Three parked human mechs sat at a table for six. Their owners sat near them, nigh invisible from so far away. She didn't know if he could see them at all, but Toby's excitement was infectious. If the relative safety of having humans among humans didn't convince her, his adorable reaction did.

Mae didn't forget the etiquette this time. She approached quietly enough not to startle them. Much as she loved humans, they could be jumpy little things. Some of the looks she received from the other partygoers were terribly off putting. She picked up no malice. At worst, she could only see sympathy. Sympathy she didn't want the slightest piece of, especially from people like them. She cupped a second hand around Toby, eliciting a groan from him. The humans were a few paces away when she could finally make them out properly.

They were likely around Toby's age. One was slumping, drunk, clad in red, and had dyed his hair as white as her fur. Next was a brown-haired man, buried in some game on his yutri and fated never to return to reality. The third was bald, as the humans called their hairless, and bore some of the darkest skin she'd seen on their species. He was by far the most lucid of the group to boot. He was in the middle of trying to console the first of the bunch before Mae and company were finally noticed.

“Oh, hey!" The bald human said, taking his hand off his drunken friend to smile and wave at their group.

Seeing the opportunity to indulge her curiosity, Mae deactivated her translator. Partly out of courtesy. Partly because she hadn't spoken English with anyone other than the boys in ages. “Hello! Do you mind if we sit here?" She pleaded, her inner nervousness peeking through.

The bald man became much friendlier. “Woah, you speak English?"

Mae nodded, proud and free of her lingering panic. Despite her misgivings about her English-speaking accent, the rare moments where she could impress an actual human by speaking their language always drummed up her confidence.

“Well, come on over! Tell us about yourselves."

The man waved her group over to his. His accent sounded like the voice clips she studied in her early English lessons. It was almost nostalgic for her. She and Endi took their seats, while Cass gingerly parked his mech next to the factory gray models that their hosts travelled in. Mae laid Toby next to his fellow humans, quite disheartened that he hadn't given her any of his touch signals. Cass wasn't far behind. Though he was slowed down significantly by the beverages loaded up into his arms.

According to the bald man, who went by Warren: The humans were a band called Lucy's Favourites. Warren was a fellow drummer. Owen, the one currently buried in his yutri, was their guitarist (whatever that was). Lastly there was Andrew, the bass player. Something about the latter's name seemed familiar, not that she could place it right away. Regardless, she introduced herself and her friends in short order.

“Sixth Eye? We heard a lot about you."

Warren walked up to Toby and shook his hand. The candor and goodwill threw him through a loop, but he reciprocated the gesture anyway. Cute as it was, his reaction was oddly reassuring to Mae. It confirmed once and for all that she wasn't alone in being unused to people recognizing them. Endi, however, was entirely uninvested in the pleasantries. Her priorities were fixed on Andrew, beyond any and all reason.

“Endi? Something wrong, girl?" Cass called out to her.

With her translator off, Mae got blasted by a full dose of Endi's real voice. Her native tongue warped Andrew's name beyond any reconciliation. There was even something that sounded like a 'Z' in there, she struggled to process. There was a reason beyond novelty that the humans didn't mind her English, if that display was an appropriate indication.

“Ah hell, it's the rat lady!" Andrew slurred out, fearful for some odd reason.

Endi followed up with one of the strangest gestures she'd ever seen. She pointed at her eyes with two fingers, then spun them around to point at Andrew. The meaning soared above Mae's head, but the white-haired human cowered at it, leaving Cass to pick up the pieces.

“Look, Endi. Gal pals for ya!" Cass pointed to a pair of smartly dressed ra'lai women a few tables away.

Luckily for Andrew, Endi was one to listen to her charge. She ran off to badger the other party goers, and unintentionally saddled Mae with the task of making sense of her behavior. The only explanation would be if this Andrew was the same one who masterminded the 'second tail' debacle, but the odds of that were minute at best. Then again, the odds of forming a band with a lovely human like Toby must have been much smaller. Destiny was a strange thing. Cass quickly attempted to course correct the embarrassing scene. “Sorry lad. I taught her the whole 'I'm watching you' thing with her hands." He grinned through gritted teeth.

Warren grinned along with him, if out of understanding or pity she couldn't tell. Andrew let out a piercing wail, grabbing the eyes and ire of everybody present. “Hey guys, I have to try and calm him down, do you mind?"

She and Toby nodded, and let Warren tend to his friend. Not that she didn't feel sorry for him. He sounded awfully tired. “I don't think he's coming around anytime soon." Toby told her.

With the way Andrew's stream of consciousness had started to pan out in the background, she couldn't help but agree. Endi must have felt taken advantage of, however they came into contact, but Andrew seemed flat out unstable. Good person or not, something about a suffering human always pained her to witness. Mae yelped in surprise, when Endi prodded her shoulder again. The ashar was downright inspired, which Mae almost had to take as a threat nowadays.

“What is it, Endi?" Mae demanded to know, reactivating her translator.

“They want a word." Endi jabbed a thumb back at the women Cass convinced her to talk to. The pair of them waved, tails up in greeting. Despite that, Mae was still hesitant. Endi tended to keep questionable company.

“Endi, I don't think that's a good idea." Mae couldn't avoid the dread that dropped into her voice. She wanted to give Endi a less ambiguous refusal, but she couldn't quite summon Mae'eliis tonight, and thus Endi continued on. “But one of them was Hare'ker's drummer. Talking to her could be good for you."

That alone nabbed Mae's attention. If this was the same drummer Hare'ker tried to replace, then perhaps Endi was right. Still, bad things happened when humans were on their own, and so she erred on the side of caution. That was, until a tiny voice told her otherwise. “Mae, I think Endi might be right about this. Go talk to them." Toby soothed her.

Much as she worried about him, Toby was his own person. If he wanted her gone then she wouldn't force herself to stay. Besides, those eyes of his let him get away with far too much. She just hoped the hold they had on her didn't somehow lead to his demise. She faced Endi again. She tried to look resolute, but she could tell that wasn't how it came across. “Alright, but can you please bring them here?" She begged.

Mae saw all there was to see of them when Endi brought them over. One of them almost looked like a female Hare'ker: a tall, muscular ra'tieen. The other was a ra'ihash, visibly halfway through a pregnancy. She was much shorter, with deep black fur that shimmered in a blue tinge. Judging by the dazzling formal wear, neither were shy about their wealth. Endi leaned against the wall, while the two ra'lai took their places. They gave her and the humans a sizeable amount of breathing room, as luck would have it.

“You're Mae, I'm assuming?" The taller woman asked her, a sympathetic look in her eyes.

Mae answered truthfully despite her apprehension. The woman's ears swiveled in acknowledgement.

“The name's Kamh'sen, Hare'ker's former drummer."

She extended a hand, expecting her to shake it. A strangely human way to greet a fellow ra'lai, which Mae obliged. “Endi told me what he did. The way he thought he could treat you and Toby. Sickening."

Mae was visibly astonished. Finding a decent person at these parties was almost too good to be true. “Me and Toby?" A quivering hope rummaged beneath her words.

“Of course. Trying to grab a human like an animal, how low can he sink?" She scoffed.

Mae had to stop her jaw from dropping. Kamh'sen was almost as disgusted with him as she was. Miraculously, serendipitously disgusted. Kamh'sen must have picked up on how shocked she was, since her demeanor wavered a little. “Sorry, did I say something-- “

“No, it's just... nobody's been this sympathetic to him before. They don't even use his name!" Mae barked, the frustration at their behavior biting through.

Kamh'sen matched her intensity. “You're joking! The nerve of some people."

Mae let out a relieved laugh. Their subject matter was the furthest thing from funny to her, but finally finding the kind of people she'd wanted to meet since starting the band was too incredible for her not to laugh. Kamh'sen's ears flicked up as a thought entered her head. “Then again, the level of human integration is garbage on this world."

“How so?" Mae quizzed her further, her curiosity piqued. Her only point of reference was Tebeish, after all.

“Have you played a concert to a human audience?" Kamh'sen asked her back, answered by Mae's guilty silence.

“Exactly, because you can't. Other worlds are making establishments where people of different sizes can meet up. Far more mechs and the like than I've seen here. I doubt this world would even bother with proxies when they're done being tested." She derided.

Kamh'sen's assertions were very interesting to her. The closest thing to an establishment like she described was the rehearsal space where Toby auditioned for her. Even then, that was just a public collection of big empty rooms. One thing in particular, however, fascinated Mae.

“Proxies?" It sounded like English, but the word itself was completely unfamiliar to her.

“Don't tell me you haven't heard of them." Kamh'sen gasped, “They're all over the news."

Mae felt her tail flick behind her in confusion. “Not in any news on Tebeish."

Kamh'sen mumbled something about 'lazy colonials' under her breath.

“They're still in the testing phase, but they're these little human sized machines that walk on two legs. There's working prototypes now. But in less than a decade we'll be able to use them to enter human cities on their scale."

Mae couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd longed for the day when she could visit a human settlement, and yet the safest means to do so was already being worked on. She was dumbfounded that Tebeish's media hadn't printed a word about it. “So, I can see their cities like they would?" The words clogged in her throat, the surprise of it sinking in.

“Sure thing," Kamh'sen huffed, amused. “Once they're cleared for public and private use. I'll spare you the details for now, but Rij and I know somebody who's testing them. If you want, I could--“

That moment, the pregnant woman's conduct became too unsettling to ignore. She had been staring at Mae throughout their whole conversation. Now that she'd registered it, the woman was making her nervous. Staring was well and good when she was on stage, and absolutely nowhere else.

“You didn't introduce me to your friend." Mae stoked her tail to diffuse her nerves.

“That's Rij. She's an off-world medic." Endi cut in briefly, before re-entering the world of her yutri's photo gallery.

'Rij'. Clearly a nickname, if a bit of a questionable one. Mae kept herself focused on one question above the others. Throughout her life, there were only a few reasons that people stared at her like Rij did. Considering that it was a Cal-Gea afterparty, she had one good guess. “Have you never seen a Ra'hamiir before, Rij?"

Rij gasped in horror, pressing both hands on her cheeks in dramatic fashion. “Don't insult yourself like that! I won't have a pretty young lady like you put herself down with that kind of language. Be proud of yourself, girl!"

“Huh?" Was all Mae could respond with.

Rij's sudden school teacher-esque strictness caught her entirely off guard. Rij had her hand on Mae's shoulder, trying for a motherly vibe despite them outwardly being of similar age. Mae felt a bit hot under her fur after the sudden blast of compliments. The awkwardness of the whole ordeal had more than set in. “Uh, thanks. But why were you staring for so long?" Mae tried to return to the meat of the conversation.

Rij offered a shrug. “Force of habit. My word, I don't even think I caught your name!" Rij gulped, tail thrashing behind her excitably.

How somebody built up the habit of staring at strangers for minutes on end was beyond her, but Mae raised no complaints. Her name was the least she could give her. “Mae'eliis Delphin."

Rij's ears and tail shot up in surprise. Something must have clicked. “Oh, I- No. I think I've heard the name before. Don't know where. It'll come to me."

Mae had her doubts, but she elected not to pelt Rij with more questions. She doubted she'd be recognized on the street, but enough people here knew her as 'the lady from Sixth Eye' that Rij's reaction wasn't out of place. In any case, their little talk stopped dead in its tracks. Sensing the oncoming awkward silence, Kamh'sen stepped in to fill the void. “Your friend told us that you speak the humans' language."

Endi shot her a cheeky smirk in the background. When Mae confirmed the fact, Kamh'sen nearly jumped for joy. “Can you say something to us? I've always wanted to hear it spoken in person."

With a reaction like that, Mae couldn't help but oblige her. She turned her translator off, and everyone but Endi did the same. It wouldn't be a problem. Every ra'lai present spoke the same language anyway. It seemed Kamh'sen was full of nice surprises. It would have been silly to think she was the only one remotely interested in their tongue, but these parties had almost made her believe it. Mae cleared her throat. A little build up was necessary for such a momentous occasion, after all.

“I like protein bars." Mae said, completely stone-faced.

The two ralai applauded like she'd just played a concert. Funny as it was, Mae was just glad that she'd been able to say 'protein' in English without mangling the vowels.

“That was amazing!" Kamh'sen gasped, awestruck. “What did you say?"

Mae shot a quick glance at the snickering ashar to her right. In the spirit of her friend's inexorable honesty, Mae told them exactly what it was.

“Something a friend told me."

--

For Toby, the party had already been quite the uneven experience. A tiger and a panther sucked Mae into some indecipherable conversation. By all appearances, were exchanging contact information. He wouldn't know. He lost track around, 'The name's Kamh'sen'. The experience wasn't helped by the fact that he and Cass were stuck on a table with three weird Canadians. Warren seemed nice, at least. Even if his friend Andrew had him hunkered down trying to provide emotional support.

“You think we should help him?" Toby asked Cass.

Cass gave his head a resolute shake. He sat cross legged, dragging their two six packs with him. “What'd we even say to him anyhow?"

Toby shrugged, joining his friend on the table's surface. “Fair point. Dealing with white-haired drunkards isn't my field of expertise."

Jovial soul that he was, Cass wrapped an arm around him. “What feckin field is that, then?"

“Calming down sixty-foot cats." Toby pokerfaced, understated and nonchalant.

Cass smirked, nudging Toby's arm with an elbow. “Surely you wanna stay sober to think over the implications of that?"

He managed to roll his shoulders enough to shove Cass off his back. “Haha! Mate, thinking about shit like that's why I drink in the first place."

Toby snatched away a six pack, pulling a freshly refrigerated can from the clutch. The cold aluminum stung his fingers. Just the way he liked it. “How about a toast?" He proposed, lobbing a second can into Cass's loving arms.

“What've we feckin' got to toast to?" Cass jabbed, sarcasm belying what Toby thought was a decent question. It made him think for a moment, at least.

“Making it this far, I guess?"

Cass grimaced in mock disgust. “Ugh. Wretched. Why don't we toast to the girls, instead?" He suggested.

Mae and Endi. Even with the strange emotional limbo he'd tossed himself into, Toby had no idea where he'd be without them.

“Wow, that's a way better idea." Toby nodded, satisfied.

“As my ideas tend to be." Cass shot back, sounding worryingly serious. Egotism wasn't a good look on him.

“Keep it about the girls, Cassidy."

Cass laughed at himself, which was a huge relief to Toby. It was a sign that his friend hadn't lost his mind completely. Cass raised his beer to the ceiling, a gesture Toby reciprocated. “Alrighty then. To the girls!"

With that, Toby and Cass clinked their cans together and cracked them open at last. To Toby's immeasurable disappoint, hardly a drop of foam gushed from the top. Moments after his first sip, Toby spat the disgusting brew all over his share of the table. He couldn't erase the rubbery flavor from his mouth, no matter how much he coughed and wheezed. “Christ, what is this?!"

Toby felt a light smack on the back of his hand. Followed by Cass pointing at him like he'd been caught in the middle of a crime. “Language!"

Toby's eyebrows nearly shot themselves into space. “You swear all the time!"

Cass smacked his hand again, a tad harder just to make sure that he got the message. “And I do it without taking the Lord's name in vain."

Toby pulled back his wounded hand to recover from Cass's assault. Satisfied, the man himself took an almighty swig of his beer, half emptying the can in seconds.

“Do your taste buds work, man?" Toby croaked.

Cass wiped his mouth of the excess. “Feck how it tastes. Just drink it."

Cass downed the rest of his beer as if to demonstrate. If Toby were a God fearing man, he'd have said a prayer for Cass' liver. “You're Irish, man. Shouldn't you have better taste in beer?"

That remark earned a derisive scoff from Cass. “You're English, man. What footie team d'you support?"

Toby acquiesced after that. He needed to stop saying things that his friends could reverse on him so easily. “That's what I thought." Cass said with a smirk.

Having been thoroughly bested by Cass's superior wit, he moved the beer as far away as his arms allowed. Cass snatched it away before he could blink. He wouldn't have been surprised if Cass dropped dead from alcohol poisoning the next day. “At least Donny wasn't all precious over his drinks." He grumbled between sips.

In an instant, all the fun had been sucked out of the room. Donny. He'd tried saying that name at one of the other parties too. Tipsy or not, that was no accident. “Cass, don't bring him up now." Toby internally begged for him to stop.

“If not now, when will we?" Cass retorted.

“Later." Toby told him, meaning 'never'.

All that did was make Cass angry. He climbed to his feet and bore down on him, just about ready to jump on Toby at any second. “There won't feckin' be a 'later!' Not with you!"

Toby stood to meet him eye to eye. He wouldn't let Cass intimidate him. “The hell do you even want me to say?"

Cass put two hands on his shoulders, almost trying to shake the apprehension out of him. “Anything! Don't you get it? Concerts? Aliens? Different planets? You're living the kid's dream right now, and you haven't as much as said his name! It's like you forgot he even existed! The feck is wrong with you?!"

Toby felt a wash of guilt. He tried to put it out of his mind for years, but he'd still not fully internalized what happened with their old friend. His first instinct was to argue. But Cass was right to be angry, and he knew it. He would have conceded if Cass had left it there, but, of course, he simply didn't know when to quit. “Doubt he'd have been too thrilled. What with how most of 'em see us."

Any sympathy Toby might have had for him drained away. A vein clenched in his forehead. If Cass was saying what he thought he was saying, then this was the most tasteless thing he could possibly have done to win an argument. “Cass. If you brought up Donny just so you could whinge about the fucking aliens again--."

“He's right!" Slurred someone on their left.

It seemed that mop haired Andrew had broken away from his friends. He hobbled his way over to face Toby, huffing and sneering with the reddest alcohol flush Toby had ever seen. Cass took a few steps back, presumably not wanting to stir up any more trouble. That, and he seemed to be at least a little remorseful over what he said. Even Cass wasn't so callous.

“That Irish guy, he's right. They don't care about us." Andrew proclaimed in a drunken stupor.

“Course they fucking care." He spat, “We wouldn't be in the UTO if they didn't care about us, man."

He looked back to Cass. He wasn't overjoyed that someone like Andrew agreed with him, but he didn't quite reject him either.

“Then why don't they help us integrate, huh?" Andrew snapped back, his voice somewhere between enraged and paranoid. “They didn't lift a finger when half the fucking settlement lost their jobs, did they? Cause they don't give a shit!"

Toby stayed silent. There was a grain of truth in Andrew's ramblings. He'd been laid off months ago, like a lot of other people. Back then, everybody blamed the human leg of the government for what happened. But Toby had been gone a long time. Either they'd started blaming the aliens en masse, or Andrew was just insane. He hoped it was the latter.

“And you! You invite this shit! You form a band with that leopard-tiger thing, and they think everything's fine!"

Andrew flew into a full-on fury. He jabbed Toby with a finger, poked him, anything to rile him up. Between the man's pungent beer breath and his comment about Mae, he was way too good at it.

“My bandmate is not a 'thing,' dickhead!" Toby snarled.

Toby felt the building urge to knock him flat. Andrew only became more incensed and less coherent, as he rambled on. “Who cares? You play in their stupid token band, and our alien overlords can pretend they're doing something! We sleep in cupboards and talk to some batshit crazy AI all day! But you? You got a direct line to them with your 'bandmate,' and you don't say shit! Why? Cause you're a goddamn token! Fuck you!"

Before he could retaliate, Andrew knocked Toby onto the table top with a shoulder tackle. He fell fast and hard onto his shoulder. The bruising had already set in. Warren was stunned into silence. Cass tried to pull Toby onto his feet, hindered only by his attempts to minimize further injury, but Toby's mind was made. All this time he'd been faced with impossible odds. He couldn't fight that that kiori and her fingers. He couldn't fight Hare'ker's claws. But fighting some white-haired drunkard who threw the first punch anyway? That was quite doable.

Propelling himself from Cass's hands, Tony roared and threw his fist into Andrew's jaw. The blow made the drunk howl in pain, but, unfortunately, he stayed on his feet. Funny. Toby used to knock kids out with punches like that. He was out of practice, wilted, sloppy. He didn't care. He was in a fervor, intoxicated by a mix of bully punching nostalgia and righteous indignation. No more ranting at titans. Finally, something, someone, he could hit. But that was the thing about the fights he picked. He never hit someone who wouldn't hit him back, and Andrew hit hard.

Andrew retaliated with a heavy blow to his eye, and Toby crashed to the ground in a heap. He was half blind, doubled over in pain, mouth awash with the taste of blood and bile. Andrew wrapped himself around Toby's arm in a bone shattering pin. The others tried and failed to pull him off, but his rage had made him unshakeable. Toby always believed success would shape him up, make him better than he once was. Now, he was just some idiot, one who was about to have his arm broken by a guy he met five minutes ago. It would have been funny if it weren't so dangerously, career endingly, sad.

But despite the pain and noise, one thought conquered his mind. Mae. His big, timid drummer. She didn't deserve any of this. Giant or not, and whatever her reasons, she'd shown him nothing but the utmost kindness. He confronted someone twelve times his size just because he cared about her. Sixth Eye was her dream, but it could all be over because he was too insecure to let sleeping dogs lie. Andrew's grip only tightened. He would snap the bone if he kept this up. Toby braced himself for the pain. If Mae suffered because of his selfishness, then he deserved everything Andrew was about to give him. He let her down.

Yet the ear-piercing snap never came. Instead, the table quaked beneath them. The vibration dizzied Andrew enough to put Toby's humerus out of mortal danger. A turn of his head revealed the source. A massive, white furred forepaw that had slammed down upon the woodgrain.

Mae came back for him. She was all he could see, and so far removed from the Mae he knew. Angry, looming, and utterly intimidating. Claws that could shear humans like kebab meat effortlessly chipped the wood. Her fur bristled with rage. Teeth like swords met the open air. And a deep vibration rippled from her throat, a growl that shook the table like only a true predator's could. No anxiety hounded her. No concessions were made for their frail human sensibilities. Mae had a point to make, and she made it loud and clear.

“Get the fuck off my bass player!"

--

Toby was always in danger when she held him. Mae knew that, and it took the strongest of emotions to distract her from it. Whether it was the afterglow of a great show, or the sheer fright of seeing less careful hands try to touch him. But in those cases, it had only been one emotion that pierced through all the others. Now anger, disappointment, fear, and concern tugged her in dozens of directions. Toby didn't seem to share her dilemma. Despite the awful situation he'd thrust himself into, he sat and smiled in her hand like nothing happened.

“You said fuck! I'm so proud of you!"

He sounded so upbeat. So willfully oblivious that it terrified her. Humans were incredible at suppressing their emotions, if Toby was any indication. As they left the bar, Mae was soothed by a measure of clarity. The many badgering scents, sounds, and voices were gone. Cleared by the assault of winter rain on the mud and grass before them.

Wanting all the privacy she could find, Mae carried him out onto the frothing planes as fast as she could go without harming her living cargo. Rain weighed down her fur. Squelching mud had launched itself up her legs and into her boots. None of that mattered to her. She pressed on and on, until she found refuge under a small tree. It was then that Mae freed Toby from the protective cup she'd made with her hands. He and her paw pads were dry as could be. It was then that she addressed him properly.

“You're hurt."

He was going to say it again, that horrible little phrase he used when he had a problem to ignore. She felt it.

“I'm fine."

Mae couldn't take it anymore. She snapped. Her anger at him took over, near surpassing the ire she threw Andrew's way. “No, you're not! People who are fine don't get into fights with strangers!"

Toby looked horrified, but his good eye told her a different story. He was going to lie, try and spare her feelings like always. As if they couldn't stand being honest with each other after so long.

“Mae- “

“No! No more lies!"

She should have been angry. She was angry, yet she could still tell how miserable he was. Remorse clawed its way through her. Her ears folded back in guilt. Her lips rolled over her teeth once more. “Please, Toby. What's wrong?"

Toby was silent for a moment, the patter of rain engorging the empty space around them. She was much gentler that time, but it wasn't a put-on. Her anger and remorse were equally real. Toby might have known that, and perhaps that was what made him open up.

“I'm powerless."

The words hung in the air. Part of her wanted to protest immediately, but that would only have closed him back up.

“You saw what happened at those parties. I couldn't keep them off me, off you! I'm useless." He explained.

“You're not."

“Then why didn't you want me going?"

“Because I was worried!"

“Because I'm useless, that's why!"

The shouting startled her so much that she reeled back in fright. Any anger or energy he had drained from his face. Shouting at her must have made him feel even worse. She knew the feeling.

“Don't sugar coat it, Mae. All I do is take without giving back. I'm tiny, can't protect myself for shit. I can't even use a mech because-“ He stopped himself.

He convulsed, whether from the cold or forcing the words out she didn't know. “For God's sake, I don't even know if you can feel it when I touch you! I'm too small. I'm always gonna to be too small. I thought we could be equals despite everything, but I don't even know if that's true anymore. What am I to you? Your friend? Or am I just… small?"

A second hand cupped over her first. No wayward rainfall would hit him, no unworthy sound would accost his ears. She had his undivided attention, and she'd need it. Nearly everything he said was the opposite of the truth, and she had to show him that.

“Toby. Can't you be both?"

The way he looked at her, so puzzled, so deeply uncomprehending of that thought. She hated that she'd let him forge these doubts. But regrets wouldn't get them anywhere. “Yes, you're small, and you always will be as long as I can hold you like this. But you're so much more than that! You're brave, talented, thoughtful. You make me smile and laugh when I'm at my lowest. You guide me with every word you say, every time I feel your touch. I'd be so lost if you weren't here, Toby. You're my little light! Is that uselessness? Or powerlessness? It doesn't sound like that to me."

She didn't know if he could feel it, but her heart nearly beat out of her chest . It was strange to be saying so many of the things she'd been thinking out loud. But Toby needed to hear it. His face was a picture. At once sad and confused, yet the embers of joy simmered under the surface. The time had time to stoke those flames.

“But you're always so worried about me."

He didn't have the same conviction he spoke with before. At long last, he was listening to her. She brought him up until he was level with her collarbone. Intimate, even for them, but Mae didn't mind. The closer he was, the more she could see of him that she couldn't before. Humans were adorable. There was no dancing around that. But they also had a unique beauty that often went unsung. Each one was like a little work of art. Rich in detail and character that demanded attention and respect. She leaned in close, whispering words that couldn't languish inside her any longer.

“Toby. You're the best friend I've ever had. Why wouldn't I worry about you?"

He stared up at her, mouth agape and stuttering. She could see him so clearly now. Wrinkles, veins, pores, smile lines. All the things that she could only see in pictures, now made stunningly real by his proximity to her. They were beautiful. He was beautiful, even to the touch. That was when it hit her.

She just touched him.

She was so lost in the sight of him that she hadn't realized she was doing it. A careful finger ran down Toby's back. He flinched, but he soon leaned back into her touch, fully immersing himself into the warm fur. She'd tried to force this kind of contact for so long. Perhaps all she needed was to let it happen on its own. Even then, Toby surprised her with something she never thought she'd see him do.

He cried. Her brave, talented, thoughtful little friend wept openly in front of her. Pained, mournful sobs dampened her fur, spiriting the hurt and bitterness out of his body. She couldn't dream of interfering. He needed this, and he'd needed it for a long time. Eventually the tears slowed, and through them he could find happiness again. Her fingers along his back. His emotions pouring forth unfettered. No walls between them. It all felt so right.

When his final tears were shed, and he could stand once again, he looked years younger. The tears did him a lot of good. That much was clear.

“Alright. No more bottling things up. Anything you want to know, I'll tell you."

Mae felt her ears flex in surprise. She was ecstatic. No more secrets. Not anymore.

“You mean it?"

He laughed. The answer must have been so obvious to him.

“Of course. You're my best friend, right?