The present is already waiting for me when I get back to my room.
I crane a glance over my shoulder, hearing a quiet rap on the doorframe. My sister pokes her head in, matching my smile. "It came during dinner."
"Oh. Thanks. How did I miss it?"
"I don't know." She looks down at her socks, where our cat has also made an appearance, winding around her ankles. "I took it straight here when I found it."
She scoops up the kitten, a fluff of gray mass shifting in her arms. "It's... light, this month," she remarks, as soon as I pick up the diminutive box to confirm.
It's not particularly sizable this month, either. Possibly the smallest, slightest out of all the past ones he's sent- boxy cardboard that's less than a half a foot long on each of the three dimensions.
I can pick it up with one hand. Bringing it close to my ear, I try to get some insight on the contents. "What do you think it is?"
"Don't shake it, stupid-"
"Oh. Sorry."
She grins, reaching up to brush away a strand of hair that's fallen in front of her eyes. The hand returns to cradle the responsibility still in her arms. "Also, how am I supposed to know what he sent you?"
I make a face. "I'm just being nice, by letting you guess-"
"It feels like there's nothing in there," she giggles, leaning off the door frame before beginning to wander away. Her voice becomes fainter as it travels farther down the dark hallways, but the amusement is audible in every suggestion. "Socks? Sticky-notes? A nice card, perhaps?"
"A nice card?"
But 'light' is nowhere near an indication of 'bad'. The ear piercing he sent last month had weighed close to nothing.
It took quite a while of subtle- or just outright -convincing, for me to actually put it to use. And then, of course, that led to the mess of a reveal on my stream a few nights ago.
These monthly gifts might as well be a tradition now, even if it may have started as an accident. All the way back in February, in the days before a certain holiday I had never looked forward to as much as this time around.
Back then, the idea of sending each other gifts had been fondly awkward, borderline cheesy, and I have clear memories of us self-deprecating on just how 'grossly-cliche' we were becoming. But I would be lying, if I said not even a small part of me was enjoying the perks of it.
The surprise, the feeling of expectation. To give an actual, official Valentine's Day gift to an actual, official valentine fell no short of exciting, even if it was a bit run-of-the-mill. I remember being so enthusiastic I tracked the delivery and its progress overseas, with growing delight that only peaked when it arrived exactly on time.
While his... didn't.
The flurry of texts had begun to storm my phone before I had even considered the possibility of the gift being late. At first, the way he had rushed us into a call had seemed overboard for just an untimely shipment.
Then he explained.
Very simply, he had just forgotten that, well, shipping takes time.
A distance as far as ours is quite a damper on the delivery process. In the spirit of the 14th, he had placed the order the day of, and only after clicking confirm did he realize it would take a whole 2 days to ship over.
He was apologizing profusely, and it was okay, it's literally fine, nowhere as near as big of a deal as he saw it as. The present was lovely. The delay couldn't matter less. We laugh about it now.
Apparently to him, it did matter. Exactly a month later, another present had been shipped and delivered and wound up at my house.
I asked about it, he laughed, I asked again, he insisted.
That was it. Until the same thing happened in April, and he finally admitted that it was a bit he was doing. Not really an apology - although he hates any mention of his mistake - he claims it's purely out of the 'overwhelming goodness of his heart'.
So on the 16th of every month that followed, there would be a new present in the mail, at a random hour of day but never early, never late. It's become somewhat of an inside joke too, as a mere mention of the number will prompt hidden but identical smiles.
I thought it was far more than necessary for a one-time slip up, and it is. But I can't deny that I look forward to it almost as much as he does.
And it's nice.
The gifts are nowhere near overboard- easily sent over in a compact cardboard box, thin-walled with the occasional wrapping paper and the even rarer bow.
In essence, they're nothing more than little reminders, unspoken promises; that the distance isn't so far, that these keep us close.
Another bag of coffee mixes, the same brand as the Christmas gift. LED lights, identical to those in his room, that now line the underside of my own bed and along the crooks where the four walls meet the ceiling.
There's a common theme to the items he sends. Always a memory tied to it, with a taste or a feel from our meet-up that I can recall from holding something tangible.
But of course, there are exceptions. Like last month, the earring; small and unassuming but screaming out the suggestion.
The lightweight of this month's surprise makes it as intriguing as ever, and I dare say even more so. My attention goes to my monitors, clicking around before entering the unoccupied voice channel.
I keep half an eye on the empty space, wrist and gift both flicking around lazily. Along with the monthly presents are a video call for my reaction. Not like we don't already spend hours and hours in the same channel- going about our days despite the difference in time zones, a lingering presence in the other's ears that still makes for pleasant company.
It was his idea; an awkward ask in a sweet sort of way. But it's somewhat of a glimpse into his thoughts, a better understanding of him and this gift-giving virtue he's always, always had.
Or maybe I'm just reading complex messages into it all. "Quackity called you a simp today."
"... huh?"
I watch his newly appeared icon momentarily receive a ringed outline, and laugh. "Hi Dream."
"Why did he call me that?"
"I had to tell him why I had to leave his call. Because you sent me something." Sex Havers. I wrinkle my nose at the name of the subserver. Underneath, Quackity and Karl's icons still remain, and I can only imagine what they're talking about now. "Oops."
"I'm... not."
"Uh-huh." I bite back a smile. His camera blinks to life, and the defensiveness in his voice doesn't match his expression, either. "Oh, hi Patches."
The image of him grins, letting the cat step onto his computer desktop and occasionally block some parts of the camera. "I wonder if she misses you guys."
"Will she even remember us?"
"I guess we'll see." Dream pushes her away gently, receiving a tail flick that nearly takes out his eyes. "Stop laughing. Where's the present?"
I hold it up, shake it slightly, and see, there's no issue. "It's light."
"I know. You haven't opened it, have you?"
"Of course not."
"Alright." He leans forwards slightly, picking his feet up to sit cross-legged on the mesh chair. A creaking sound fills my headset. "Let's see, then."
I turn the hollow cube of cardboard over several times, trying to find the right-side-up amongst the identical faces.
A hesitant smile tugs at my lips; there's a number of things off-putting about it. Picking it up again, I hold it close to my ear and shake.
Dream furrows his eyebrows at me, but the grin remains. "What?"
"It literally sounds empty." I move my headset back to cover my ear. "What if you put nothing?"
"That." he declares, "would be a fucked-up thing to do."
"Yeah, and for all I know you could have done just that-"
"You know I wouldn't," he tosses. And I do; there are times for jokes and pranks, but this little exchange of ours holds a surprisingly treasured place in his heart.
I use a fingernail to pry at the top flap, casting an amused glance. "Here we go, then."
"Yup."
The flap slips out. I keep my eyes strictly on the monitor, turned away from the present. Carefully, watching his face, I lift it open and blindly feel at whatever's at the top of the pile.
My fingers close around soft, thin strands. Lifting it up, there's a bracelet pressed in between my thumb and first finger. "Ooh."
"The fans sent that," Dream muses. "Well, actually, there were two. I'm wearing the other one right now."
And there it is, on his wrist as he holds it near the camera. I can see the other bracelet as well- the one he got for us on Christmas - and become subconsciously aware of the identical trinket on my left wrist.
There's an amusing minute or so as I try to pick apart the frustratingly tight knot, and end up giving up anyways. "Okay, we're just moving on."
The second thing I take out is a plush. "Oh, this is so cute." It's me, except in the white blob style that he is, with little goggles and a blue shirt sewn on over the soft fabric. I balance it on the flat of my hand, laughing as the rounded bottom nearly makes it topple off. "You didn't make this, no way."
"Of course I didn't," he scoffs. "Do you think I can do that? I just got that in the mail with a note to send it over."
"The fans also made this," I comment, inspecting it before placing it near the set-aside bracelet. "Is it, uh, 'fan-made-gift-month?'"
"Hmm." He grins, and it might as well be an answer in itself. "Keep looking."
I tug the box towards me, and lift up the flap for good. And the rest of what's inside are... pictures.
Stacks of them. Slightly unruly, piled up in all sorts of different alignments and maybe I shouldn't have shaken the box so much, but there's not much room for them to move around anyway. Carefully, I let them fan out onto the desk, making sure I don't miss a single one.
Half of them have clearly been sent in to him- various pictures from our streams and edited to our amusement, so perhaps 'fan-made-gift-month' just might be true. The others, however, are all him.
Snapshots of the meet-up, in angles and moments I didn't even know he took pictures of. We trace through them together as each unburies a memory or a joke that otherwise would've been lost to time. I've seen some of them before - sent digitally in our group chats - but to hold a professional, glossed copy in my hands makes it all more real.
The sort of trip down memory lane is nice and all, but he tells me that 'the best part's at the bottom'. I'm staring at the now-disorderly spread of photos, slightly concerned because it's so shuffled that I have no idea which one was ever at the base of the stack.
"The bottom of the box, idiot."
And I frown, because when I had dumped the contents onto the desktop it certainly sounded empty. But when I look back to the discarded package, there is, indeed, one last thing.
"Oh.. my god." From her mouth to his ears. " A sticky note?"
It's plastered to the flat surface of cardboard, and my interest spikes as I carefully peel it off.
A laugh breezes out of him, a carefree sound in my ears. "Read it."
I'm holding it upside down. Unsticking my fingers from the small adherable strip at the back, I look over the swoopy letters written in his sturdy hand.
"Your ticket to Orlando."
The evident doubt on my face earns me an even heartier wheeze. I stomach a grin, showing the note to the camera. "I don't know about you, but this doesn't really look like a plane ticket-"
"I know, you idiot," he snickers. "It's more of a... proposition."
"And... what does that mean?"
"For when the time comes," he answers, humor slowly cooling into something more earnest. "Because we haven't set dates yet, but think of it as a ticket because all you have to do is agree, really."
I jam my mouth against my knuckles, trying to hide a smile. "So you're paying for my plane ticket?"
"Mhm."
The confirmation slips out like nothing, until my silence makes him look back at the screen and an exasperated look dawns on him. "Don't say it-"
"Alright." Fondness, unimaginable fondness bubbles up in my chest. "Simp."
He shakes his head, looking done. "Shut up, oh my god." The words escape in between dry bouts of laughter. "I didn't get you much this month, so I'm more making up for it, than anything else."
My amusement grows soft. "It really, really doesn't matter like that."
His mouth passes over invisible words before settling into a happy curve. "Yeah. But it's safe to say, I'm running out of ideas," which earns a quiet giggle from both of us. "And... I feel like it's a good time, for you two to finally come back."
The plan- for all three of us to move in together permanently, living our lives like we always have except a thousand miles closer. We've talked about it before, but the transitory of the thought as it came and went made it seem like a destination so far away, a goal so unreachable.
Now, from a mere scrap of paper in my fingers, it's the first time I truly comprehend how soon it could be.
From January to now has only been about a half-year, a whole 6 months. I don't know what I expected to pass before I would see them again, but it does feel like time has absolutely flown by.
"It's a good time?" I echo, in some distant sort of wonder.
"It is."
Patches wanders in front of his camera again. He reaches a hand to pat the space between her ears, expression tender. "I miss you guys a lot, and we might as well, right? The world's getting better again."
Cases dropping, spirits rising, more and more resemblance of normality with every passing day. The difference between now and January is real, but only through the slow, slow progression of half a year.
It's the subtle things. The sun's a little brighter, evenings are a bit kinder; the world does seem better. I linger my gaze on the screen, where he's still busy coddling sweetness into the cat's ears.
What has really changed, honestly. It started, with late night calls.
It ends in late night calls too.
Until...
"August 11th," I read over the fine print, or just a small footnote that looks like nothing more than a fleeting thought. "Does this date mean anything, or did you just make it up?"
"I did some research," he chirps, sounding awfully proud of himself in a way I can't help smiling at. "The weather's still nice and sunny, but not too cold. It's that small part of the year where it's still basically summer but without the, you know, humid. And it's the week before school, so families aren't out and about, so the flights should be pretty empty-"
"Oh my god," I press a hand to my cheek, face hurting from the ear-to-ear expression it's decided to take on. "It was a yes-or-no question."
He makes a face. "I looked through too many airport details for that. The date does mean something."
"Isn't it also... the day before...?"
A beam cuts across his features. "Yes. Birthday."
"That's nice."
"Isn't it?" He tucks his cross-legged position tighter, smiling earnestly. "It's like a birthday present."
"You finally get something from me," I gape, stretching out the syllables with sarcasm. "Instead of the other way around."
"I don't know, I like to think I'm kind of a gift myself-"
"Mm. I don't think so."
"Blessing to your life, yanno-"
I snort, and it breaks a heave of laughter out of him as well. "Yeah, sure."
But it's an empty, empty claim and we both know it. The stupidly wide smiles linger on each side of the call, amidst the quiet clicking of his mouse.
His eyebrows draw together in subtle concentration, gaze darting down from the keyboard to the screen as he types. Muttering a quiet okay, he then cranes his neck to look at the side monitor where I presume our call displays.
A small smile slips onto the expression. "You are agreeing, right?"
I jam my chin into my elbow, pulling a deep frown just to watch his smile crinkle up further. "Nah, I'm good."
"You're an idiot. But seriously, I'm about to get Sapnap in here to plan this all out. I'm a click away. A click, and if there's some reason at all you want to back out, do it now-"
I struggle, to imagine, a face of the earth where that would even come close to truth. Even now, I can feel the cautious bloom of excitement stirring beneath my chest, encouraged by the bright, bright future that beams down at us.
The world's getting better.
I take another look at the screen, at the smile I've missed so, something a mirrored image on a flat display can't truly convey. To think that so soon I'll be able to see the sight in real life, in all its ways that wind into my heart like nothing else ever could, "I can't wait."
He looks slightly startled, but it's in the best of ways as his expression swells unashamedly. Even I know -my voice, and words like that without sarcasm- it's quite a rare thing to hear.
There's a few moments of happy, filling silence and our big, stupid grins. We're able to wallow in it for a bit, before Sapnap's cheery presence splits the screen into two as both their rectangular icons take up half. Greetings are flung, laughter exchanged, energy running high as Dream pitches the plan and the enthusiasm is returned on all ends.
My head hits the pillow that night, brain exhausted after the tedious hours of planning, and finally the hard-earned reward of a date set in stone. Yet underneath the echoes of both their voices, loud laughs, quiet mutterings, easy banter and official sounding words from even more so documents...
Possibility sings.
~
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haha 16th of every month also we're getting sibling appearances i wonder what this means
just in case people are confused, basically this took place in July, and in the one sentence midway through Sap's chapter about blah blah 'they have dates and flights already set' blah blah so ig we went back in time a little bit. :)
we are so close to the end I cannot even comprehend this holy how