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Nick never thought he’d miss his toothbrush, but after weeks in the Forgotten Realms his mouth tasted disgusting. He bared his teeth at the cloudy metal panel that served as a mirror in their shared bathroom. It wasn’t very reflective to begin with, but it was also covered with a layer of grime that made it even nastier. Kind of like Nick’s teeth.
He stood on tiptoe, leaning over the water basin to examine his teeth. They hadn’t turned blackened and rotted yet, but what did cavities even look like?
He rocked back down onto his heels with a sigh. The bathroom echoed as he dipped his hands into the water. It was frigid, just like everything in the stupid tower. Cold floors, cold walls, cold air, cold fingers. As miserable as it was, though, he had to admit the stones made some sick acoustics.
Nick paused, finger sticking out of his mouth where he was scrubbing at his teeth. A grin slowly crept over his face. The rest of the boys were quiet in the next room. The whole tower was quiet except for the howling wind. The echoes and the threat of their grandparents kept the boys voices low and conversation scarce.
Nick wasn’t sure how long they’d been there. He didn’t even know what time it was. The perpetual storm surrounding them kept the tiny windows in their rooms dark at all hours. Their grandparents only seemed to feed them when they remembered and with whatever food was lying around. Usually something bland and borderline rotten. So keeping time based on meals was out.
Nick was sick of not knowing shit. Sick of the cold, sick of the quiet. He decided it was morning. They’d all woken up not that long ago, so it might as well be. He wasn’t sure Grant slept, honestly, but close enough. It was morning. He could do anything about the cold or the hunger, but the quiet? Nick was an expert in noise.
His voice wasn’t quite low enough yet to pull off his plan exactly, but he’d never let that stop him before. He took a deep breath into his stomach like his dad taught him, supporting his diaphragm, filling his lungs, and pushed out the first eight notes of the song. By the fourth, he heard scuffling in the next room.
Only slightly early, Lark and Sparrow burst through the bathroom door, their higher voices picking up the melody in a not-quite harmony. Their parents never let them play Halo, but they’d watched Nick play it plenty of times. Certainly enough to recognize the theme in an instant.
Smile splitting his face, Nick looked past the twins, through the open door at Terry and Grant. Terry glanced around anxiously, but Grant finally turned away from his station at the window. His eyes looked a little more focused than they had since he arrived.
Nick slowly raised his arms, palms up, keeping eye contact with Terry Jr., willing him to let loose just a little. The twins joined him, lifting their hands to the heavens, faces serious.
A snort from the other side of the room pulled Nick’s attention to where Grant Wilson was slipping off the windowsill. An almost-smile twitched on his lips as he shook his head before adding his own slightly deeper voice to the mix.
Sparrow whooped, breaking through his serious facade, and darted forward to grab the bigger boy’s hand and drag him into the cozier bathroom with its superior acoustics. On their way past, Grant clapped a hand on Terry Jr.’s shoulder. Terry looked up at Grant, and his posture finally relaxed a fraction. He wasn’t even fighting his smile as he followed the boys into the bathroom, singing along quietly.
The loop ended as Sparrow clicked the door shut, but Nick just picked it up from the beginning again. Nothing wrong with leaving a game on the main menu if the song slapped.
The closer walls of the bathroom bounced their voices around, creating an ethereal echo and the illusion that there were more than just five boys in the tiny room of the frozen tower in another dimension.
They let the song end, and the echoes faded, but their absence was quickly filled by cheers and giggles. The boys squished nearly shoulder-to-shoulder in the cramped space, jostling each other and bumping elbows, breathing each other’s air. But it was warm.
The door in the other room creaked open, and they froze, waiting to see which of their grandparents had come to reprimand them.
The tension relaxed marginally when they heard the perpetually groggy Bill Close calling into the room. “You boys keep it down in there. It’s not even noon.”
“Fuck off,” Nick said. Terry winced, but Nick was pretty confident in how far he could push his grandpa. Bill was a lot like Glenn. But, like, way worse, obviously. Not nearly as cool. And Glenn never forgot to feed him. Or at least leave money for dinner.
Nick could practically see Bill roll his eyes through the door before he said, “Just a note. You know, from a professional musician, you’re a little pitchy.”
The door shut behind him, and the lock clicked into place. Nick rolled his eyes. He glanced at the other boys. The spell had broken, it seemed. Terry was once again a ball of tension, biting his fingernails anxiously. Grant had drifted out the door, listless. A chill breeze took the place of his warmth in the circle. Lark took his brother’s hand and started to drag him out, probably to discuss one of their many escape plans. Before he left, though, Sparrow looked back over his shoulder to Nick.
“You know the Katamari theme, too, right?” he asked. Nick matched his wicked grin.
“Hell yeah I do! Next practice, same time tomorrow,” he said.
Sparrow nodded eagerly and followed after his brother.
Nick glanced back in the dingy mirror. His teeth still felt nasty, he was still hungry, but, despite the other kids' dispersal, he still felt warm.