Work Text:
Endless blue skies. An endless perfect day, with the people he loves most. He did a good job, he is praised for doing a good job- praised for helping them win the election.
Sometimes, they blink in and out. For just a millisecond his dads don’t exist. With these tiny moments comes a feeling of dread which threatens to overwhelm him. He wants to print a million responses.
Those moments have never happened after they do. It becomes wonderful again. Only buckets full of happiness, a town hall draped in bright colors.
There is cheering, and he is loved.
He is-
he is-
?
that’s not right.
it must be, though.
they’re right there. they’re-
?
they’re gone again, but only for a second.
they always come back! so-
?
they care. they’ve never left him before. his dads would never-
?
is he loved? are they here?
? ?
the sky looks so small. it all looks so small.
? ? ?
where is he? where are his dads?
? ? ? ?
where where where where where where where
———
“Oh. So wait, this is it. This is the start.
This is season eight.”