Johnny was gone, the relic removed.. Filled in with some wiring ‘saka had put in the ‘fill the gap’, you were getting back on your feet. Walking, coherent, able to call people again. You’re not sure why you call Kerry first and not Misty, or Vik, and you’re not exactly surprised when the man picks up like a dog thrown a bone, smiles as always since you’d pulled him from his depression.

You explained the story, grew quiet when Kerry’s oddly attentive tone came out.

He’d pulled some strings, pulled favours from the 2020’s just to get you back down to him. Back to Earth.

So you’d bet your ass he was there in his shitty public disguise of a baseball cap, an old jacket and his classic aviators waiting for you at the side of an AV set for Florida.

“Hey, V.” He greets, same way he always did, bringing you in for a careful hug. He’d read some shit about astronauts being all jelly-legged after spending however many months in orbit and thought better of throwing himself at you for once. “High time I showed you what a real beach looks like, huh?”

You don’t really remember the short flight to the state you’d never been to. Slept through most of it, Kerry had a few calls to take so you left him to it aside from the occasional mumbling to yourself between spouts of sleep; forgetting there was no more Johnny grumbling in your ear.

When you wake up you’re on the couch of some well-furnished beachhouse in Orlando, pale floors and high ceilings — No guitars or musical memorabilia strapped to the walls. It looked like something out of a 2025 Zillow ad you remember Johnny cursing about. Kerry had managed to get the fucked up coffee machine up’n’running a few minutes after getting your sleeping form inside the house with the help of a security bot, now peacefully sipping a mug of it from where he sat on the patio; back turned to you, just staring.

…Is this what life is like when you can afford the hefty price of peace and quiet?