Multifandom Short Stories

~ "And how does that make you feel?" ~

Fandom: Crash Bandicoot

Author's Note reserved for end

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A pair of thin, tired legs approached the stones that made up the porch. The owner of these legs reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a scrap of notebook paper. "This is the place," he assured himself. He made his way from the long dirt path to the front steps of a rustic cottage. There was a soft light he could make out from one of the cottage's windows.

Someone was definitely home.

The man knocked at the wooden door gently, not wanting to come across as rude. "Excuse me? I'm here for my four o'clock," he announced.

There was a brief period of silence before the door opened. In the doorframe stood a gingered man, slightly taller than his visitor. Both fashioned similar lab coats and black pants, which they both found humorous. Whereas the visitor's coat was ragged and covered most of his black underclothing, the host wore his coat freshly dried and loosely laid on top of a pleasantly green plaid shirt.

"You're Neo Cortex?" the home's owner asked.

Cortex nodded. "The one and only."

The other man smiled warmly. "It's been so long. Please, do come in." He stood aside and held the door open, allowing Cortex to enter the home. Neo looked around curiously. Not far from the coat hangers that hung next to them were a few recliners, a tall lamp off to the side, a coffee table that hosted several books, and a large maroon rug that all of these furnishings rested upon. Each recliner had a complimentary plaid blanket, Cortex noticed. He found that in particular to be a nice touch.

"Nice, isn't it?" the host asked. "I do put quite the effort into creating an atmosphere anyone can find comforting."

"Well, duh, you're a licensed therapist now! Private practice and everything!" Cortex said, turning back to the man. "We honestly have a lot of catching up to do, N. Gin! Especially regarding that... incident. How have you been holding up since then?"

Gin shrugged. "Sometimes I experience nightmares or even anxiety attacks from thoughts of the missile. But look," he said, gesturing at his face. "It never came near me. Physically, I am fit as a fiddle."

"Yeah..." Cortex replied, unsure of what to say.

N. Gin laughed. It was gentle, like the rest of his demeanor. "There's better places to discuss these things further. Come, to my study. That's where I tend to host my appointments." He sauntered past the cozy living room, and Cortex soon followed behind him. "You seem exhausted," he noted to Cortex.

"I am, actually," Cortex replied. "I had to walk all the way here. I have to walk everywhere now. I barely have enough money to get by now." The two passed a kitchen, a sight so tempting in itself to Cortex that it caused his stomach to grumble. "...sorry."

The therapist halted. "Oh, no," he interjected. "It was rude of me not to offer you anything. Please, help yourself. You may eat during our session. I have tea prepared in the study as well, if you'd like."

Cortex nodded feverishly. "Thank you." He hurried towards the cupboards and grabbed himself a box of crackers. "I think this'll be enough for now."

N. Gin continued his slow pace down a small hallway, and Cortex followed suit, box in hand. It was painful to wait any longer to eat, but he wanted to abide by the house rules. After all, he hadn't seen his old friend since they were in private school as children, only one of his few companions there.

He also happened to be the only one left, dead or alive.

"Here we are," N. Gin announced, opening a wooden door that rested at the end of the hallway. "Do make yourself comfortable. I will give you the tea once you sit down."