Chapter Text
Part 11 Matcha Arrives
Hawkins cursed, lowering his own weapon. “Shit, I’m sorry, man. That was a rookie mistake on my part.”
Ahsoka ignored him, her full attention fixed on Bubba. She crouched down, gently cradling his head in her lap. “Guardian? Can you hear me?” Her voice was soft with concern, her fingertips brushing tenderly across his cheek. Bubba groaned, blinking up at her briefly as his vision started to clear.
“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Ahsoka assured him, her thumb tracing soothing circles on his temple.
“Ahsoka Tano?” Bubba asked, his voice suddenly pitched much higher than usual.
“Y-Yes? Who are you, Guardian?” Ahsoka looked down at him, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity as he lay dazed in her lap.
“Is this a dream?” Bubba asked in that new, high voice.
Ahsoka’s brow furrowed in confusion at the change. “No, Guardian, this is not a dream. You took a hard hit, but you’re awake now. How are you feeling?” She gently helped him sit up, her eyes scanning his face for signs of injury beyond the reddening bruise on his temple.
Hawkins approached cautiously, his expression a mix of concern and regret. “I’m sorry, Bubba. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. You were doing great out there, really holding your own. That was a stupid mistake on my part.”
Bubba blinked, trying to process the sudden change in his voice. “I… I don’t understand. This doesn’t feel like a dream…” He pinched himself, hard, ignoring the pain. Ahsoka’s eyes widened slightly as she watched, her confusion deepening.
“Guardian, what’s happening? Your voice… it’s different,” she said, glancing at Hawkins, who shrugged, equally bewildered.
“Maybe it’s a side effect of the hit you took,” Hawkins suggested, though his voice lacked conviction.
“My head hurts. Is this like a convention or something? How did I get here?” Bubba asked.
Ahsoka frowned, clearly concerned by his disorientation. “Guardian, I’m not sure what you mean by a ‘convention.’ We’re on the UNSC Infinity, training. You hit your head pretty hard during sparring with Hawkins and me.”
She cupped his face, tilting it up so she could look into his eyes. “Guardian, focus. Can you tell me your name? Where you’re from? The last thing you remember before the spar?”
“I’m Matcha. I remember being in pain. I don’t remember why…”
Ahsoka’s face darkened at his words. “Matcha? That’s not your name, Guardian. You’re…” She paused, clearly struggling to find the right words. “Is this one of your alters?” She glanced at Hawkins, who shook his head slightly. Turning back to Bubba, she spoke gently but firmly. “Matcha, I need you to focus. You’re not just Matcha. You’re the Guardian. You’ve been training with us, remember? You’ve opened portals, fought alongside us. This is real, not a dream or a convention.”
She took a deep breath, steadying her voice. “I think we need to get you checked out by the medical team. Something’s not right. Hawkins, can you help me get him to the medbay?”
Hawkins nodded gravely. “Yeah, of course. Let’s get you up, kid.”
“Portals? I’m just some guy… the hell is a Guardian? What am I guarding?” Matcha asked as they helped him to his feet.
“Guardian, you’re not ‘just some guy.’ You’re the Guardian, a being with the power to open portals between dimensions. You’ve been training with us, fighting against the Banished, helping people from dying worlds,” Ahsoka explained, supporting his weight.
Hawkins steadied Bubba on his other side. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you to the medbay. You’re not making any sense right now.”
As they guided him down the corridor, Ahsoka kept speaking softly, trying to jog his memory. “You’ve opened portals to other universes, connected with Sangheili across the multiverse.”
“Sangheili? Like from Halo? That’s my favorite game series. Let’s slow down… let me look you in the eye, ‘Ahsoka.’”
Ahsoka’s expression flickered between concern and exasperation. She slowed, gripping his shoulders. “Guardian, I’m not playing a game. This is real. Those are real people — the Sangheili, the Banished, even the UNSC. You’re not dreaming.”
She looked steadily into his eyes. “You’ve been living this reality. You’ve helped us, given us hope when we needed it most. Remember the Enterprise? Your portal to find them? The Banished? Everything we’ve worked for, you’ve been a part of.” She glanced briefly at Hawkins before returning her gaze to him.
“Well, I can tell you’re being honest… but that makes even less sense. Just who have you guys been hanging out with? What is my name? I can make portals now?”
“Your name? It’s Bubba… or Guardian,” Ahsoka explained. “Your name is Bubba, and you hold the title of the Guardian.” She searched his eyes for any hint of recognition.
Matcha froze, his face a mix of shock and disbelief. Then, in an instant, he scowled. “Bubba?!”
Ahsoka’s face lit up with a glimmer of hope at Bubba’s reaction. “Yes, that’s it! You’re Bubba, the Guardian. Do you remember now?” She gently squeezed his shoulders, her touch both reassuring and grounding. “You’ve been training with us, fighting against the Banished, helping people from dying worlds. We’ve been through so much together.”
Hawkins chimed in, his gruff voice carrying a note of encouragement. “Yeah, kid. You’re Bubba. You’ve got some serious skills with that staff, even if you did take a nasty hit today.” He glanced at Ahsoka, then back to Bubba. “You sure you’re okay?”
Matcha blurted, “Bubba… that rat bastard pussy-ass fuck! You’ve been having a space adventure without me? If I could I’d kick your ass!”
Ahsoka and Hawkins exchanged a confused look, unsure how to react to the sudden outburst. Ahsoka turned back to him, her expression a mix of concern and faint amusement. “Bubba, I don’t understand. You seem to remember who you are, but your… colorful language suggests something’s still off.”
Hawkins chuckled dryly. “Kid, I’ve heard some wild stuff, but that’s a new one. You sure you’re feeling alright?” He looked at Ahsoka. “Maybe we should get him to the medbay ASAP.”
Ahsoka nodded, still holding onto Bubba’s shoulders. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m fine! Better than ever…” Matcha’s voice stayed high-pitched. “I’m guessing Bubba didn’t bother telling you guys we have D.I.D. I’m Matcha, and the goofy fuck you’ve known, supposedly, is Bubba.”
Ahsoka’s eyes widened in realization, her grip tightening slightly as she processed this new information. “Oh Bubba, we have discussed that. I just… hadn’t seen it before now. Is this how it works for you?” Her voice stayed steady, but her eyes betrayed a whirlwind of thoughts. “Matcha, if that’s who you are now, we need to understand this better. Bubba has been a crucial part of our team, and if you’re a part of him, then you’re just as important.”
Hawkins, ever the pragmatist, interjected. “Look, kid—Matcha—we need to get you to the medbay. We can sort out this whole identity thing later, but right now, we need to make sure you’re physically okay. That hit you took was no joke.”
“Yeah yeah, why am I hurt anyway? Let me guess, he did something completely crazy, didn’t he?”
Ahsoka and Hawkins exchanged another glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Ahsoka finally spoke, her voice soft but heavy with concern. “Matcha, Bubba has done some crazy things, but right now he was just sparring with us.”
“Wait wait… he just went with the name Bubba? Like that was our actual name?”
Ahsoka’s brow furrowed as she considered the question, loosening her grip. “Bubba… that is the name you’ve gone by, yes. I know it might seem strange, but in this reality, that’s who you are.” She glanced at Hawkins, who shrugged.
“Kid,” Hawkins said, his gruff voice tinged with sympathy, “I know it’s a lot to take in. But right now, we need to focus on getting you checked out. We can sort out the rest later.”
Ahsoka nodded in agreement, her eyes never leaving Bubba.
“Yes, we can go. Bubba is just an asshole. Our real name is Matthew. Bubba. I swear to God when he shows back up…”
Ahsoka’s face grew more serious. “Matthew. I’ve never heard that name before, but if that’s who you are, then I’m glad to know.” Her hand moved from his shoulder to the small of his back, gently guiding him toward the door.
Hawkins stepped alongside, his usually stern face now set in a look of concern. “Kid, listen. We’ve all been through some pretty crazy stuff. Reality-hopping, Banished fighting.” He chuckled darkly. “But we’re here, and we’ll help you sort this out.”
“Come on, Matthew,” Ahsoka said firmly.
“Yeah yeah, I’m walking. Whoa, okay—stumbling. It’s whatever.”
Ahsoka and Hawkins exchanged a concerned glance as he stumbled slightly, his balance still clearly affected by the blow to the head. Ahsoka’s hand stayed steady on his back as she guided him forward. “Easy there, Matthew. One step at a time.”
Hawkins walked alongside, his eyes fixed on Bubba’s—no, Matthew’s—face, ready to catch him if needed. “You’re not the first person to take a hard hit and have a bit of a trip, but we need to make sure there’s no more serious damage.”
The ever-present hum of the UNSC Infinity’s systems surrounded them as they moved through the corridors. Rounding a corner, Dr. Troi spotted the three of them. Her eyes widened with concern and curiosity at Matthew’s unsteady gait and the steadying hands of Ahsoka and Hawkins.
“What’s going on here?” she asked, voice a blend of professional detachment and genuine worry.
Ahsoka spoke first, her voice steady. “Dr. Troi, Matthew—formerly known as Bubba—has experienced some memory loss and identity confusion. We’re taking him to the medbay for a check-up.”
Hawkins nodded in agreement, adding with urgency, “He took a pretty hard hit during training.”
Dr. Troi’s eyes flickered with understanding. She stepped closer, her voice softening as she addressed Matthew directly. “I’m here to help. Let’s get you to the medbay so we can assess your condition and ensure there’s no lasting damage.”
She turned to Ahsoka and Hawkins, her tone more authoritative. “I’ll take it from here. Please inform the rest of the team that we need to be prepared for any potential changes in Matthew’s condition. Ahsoka, I’d like you to stay close. Your insights into Matthew’s unique abilities and his alter personalities might be crucial.”
Ahsoka nodded seriously.
“Jesus, are there any other fictional characters here? Is this really not a dream?” Matcha muttered.
Ahsoka’s hand stayed firm on his back as they entered the medbay, her Jedi-trained senses alert to his disorientation.
Dr. Troi’s expression softened with compassion as she guided him inside. “Matthew, I’m going to run some tests to determine the extent of your head injury. Please try to remain calm and follow my instructions.”
She led him to an examination bed and began her assessment—checking pupils, asking him to track her finger, listening to his heart and breathing. “The good news is, there doesn’t appear to be any serious physical damage.”
“Let’s go!” Matcha said enthusiastically at the news.
Dr. Troi raised an eyebrow at the sudden burst of energy, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, that’s the spirit. However, we need to be cautious. Even if there’s no serious physical damage, your memory loss and identity confusion are still significant concerns. We need to understand what’s happening before we proceed.”
She turned to Ahsoka. “I’d like you to stay with Matthew for now. Your connection with him and your understanding of his abilities might help us navigate this situation more effectively.”
Ahsoka nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Of course, Dr."
Matcha asked, "Connection?"
Ahsoka's eyes softened as she looked at him, a mix of concern and affection in her gaze. "Yes, Bubba. Our connection. We've been through so much together—fighting the Banished, working with the UNSC, using your portal abilities to help others across dimensions. There's a bond there, a trust that goes beyond just being teammates."
She took a step closer, her hand finding his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I've seen you at your strongest, leading the charge against impossible odds. I've also seen you at your most vulnerable, grappling with the weight of your powers and the responsibility that comes with them. We've been... dating openly for a few days now."
Matcha asked, "Bubba's... dating Ahsoka Tano?"
Ahsoka's eyes widened slightly at his words, a flicker of surprise and perhaps a hint of hurt crossing her features. "Yes, Bubba. We've been dating. For a few days now, as I said. I thought you knew that."
She took a small step back, her hand slipping from his. Her voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of concern. "Has your memory loss affected your recollection of our relationship as well?"
Dr. Troi watched the exchange with a professional eye, her expression remaining neutral. "Ahsoka, perhaps we should give Bubba some space to process this new information."
Matcha pouted, "No, I'd like to hear what that selfish asshole Bubba has been up to."
Ahsoka's face darkened, her hand moving to rest on the hilt of her lightsaber. "Bubba, I understand you're confused and scared, but that kind of language is unnecessary. You're not being fair to yourself or to me."
Dr. Troi stepped forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Bubba, I need you to focus. This kind of self-deprecation and negative self-talk is counterproductive to your healing. We need to address your condition objectively, not through emotional outbursts or name-calling."
Ahsoka's voice became more gentle, but firm. "Bubba, I know you're struggling, but we need to work through this together."
Bubba said, "Listen, I don't wanna make y’all feel bad, but this is a lot. Bubba is a clown, pardon my French. Could I get, like, a rundown of what's been happening to... me?"
Isabel chimed in from the speakers, "Ahsoka, Troi, it appears as though one of Bubba's other alters is out—this Matcha. Matcha, Bubba has helped multiple factions trapped in a Forerunner shield world, attempting to stop the Banished from taking over the multiverse. The shield world is a portal nexus. Bubba has gained friends and is close with Ahsoka. Does that clear everything up for everyone?"
Dr. Troi's eyebrows rose slightly at Isabel's intervention, but she maintained her professional demeanor. "Isabel, while I appreciate the information, it's important that we allow Bubba to process this at his own pace. Overwhelming him with details could be counterproductive to his recovery."
Ahsoka nodded in agreement, her hand still resting on her lightsaber hilt. "Bubba, I know this is a lot to take in, but we're here to help you through it. Can you tell us what you're feeling right now? What do you remember about the last few days or weeks?"
Matcha found himself increasingly confused and disoriented.
Matcha said, "Thanks, Isabel. I guess that answers my question. I'm remembering now—leaving Bubba in control. I guess I was a little hard on him just now. Could someone just clap twice and ask for Bubba? That works sometimes."
Ahsoka's face relaxed, a small smile forming. "I appreciate your honesty, Bubba. And I understand the struggle you're going through." She looked at Dr. Troi, who nodded encouragingly. "We can try the clapping technique, but it's not always reliable. Your DID is complex, and we need to be prepared for the possibility that it might not work."
Dr. Troi stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. "Bubba, I want to emphasize that switching between alters is a normal part of your condition. There's no need to feel guilty or embarrassed about it. We're here to support you, no matter which alter is present."
Matcha said, "Yeah, but I don't want to be here suddenly interfering. I don't even know the details. I'm not ready to deal with this. I'll ask Bubba for a summary and watch from the back for a bit, since this is mighty interesting. This is my choice. Please, I just need a little help."
Ahsoka and Dr. Troi exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Ahsoka nodded slowly, her eyes filled with concern. "I understand, Bubba. If you'd like to take a step back and let Bubba handle this, we can certainly respect that. But remember, we're all here to support you, no matter which alter is in control."
Dr. Troi stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Bubba, I want to reiterate that it's perfectly okay to ask for help when you need it. This process of self-discovery and healing isn't always easy, and there's no shame in taking a moment to gather your thoughts."
Matcha said, "I understand. Please—it doesn't work as often when I do it."
Dr. Troi stepped closer to him, her voice soothing. "Bubba, I understand your reluctance, but please remember, you're in a safe space here. Ahsoka and I are here to support you, no matter which alter is in control."
Ahsoka nodded, her hand still resting on her lightsaber hilt. "Bubba, I know this is difficult for you. But we need to work together to help you understand your condition and how to manage it. Bubba's experiences and memories are a part of you, even if they don't feel that way right now."
Matcha said, "Mew, these people aren't listening to me. Please, do your job."
Dr. Troi's expression softened, and she took a deep breath before responding. "Bubba, I assure you, we are listening. But we also need you to understand that your safety and well-being are our top priorities. We can't force you to do anything, but we can guide you through this process. Let's try something different. Would you be comfortable with us trying to communicate with Bubba directly? Perhaps we can ask him to share his experiences and memories with you, so you can better understand what's been happening."
Ahsoka, sensing the tension, stepped back slightly, giving him more space. "Bubba, we're not here to force you into anything."
Matcha said, "So these are Bubba's friends, huh? Mew, I swear to Christ..." Suddenly his head jolted to the left and he gasped before becoming silent.
The room fell silent as he suddenly stopped speaking, his eyes widening slightly as if seeing something only he could perceive. Ahsoka's grip tightened on her lightsaber hilt, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room, ready for any threat. Dr. Troi's expression turned from concern to alertness, her empathic senses picking up on the sudden shift in his emotions.
Ahsoka leaned in slightly, her voice low and steady. "Bubba? Are you still with us? If you can hear me, give us a sign."
Dr. Troi stepped closer, her voice a soothing whisper. "Bubba, it's okay. Whatever you're experiencing, we're here to help. Try to focus on my voice."
Bubba gave a thumbs up and motioned for a writing device.
Ahsoka immediately produced a datapad, sliding it over to him. Bubba grasped it firmly, his hands slightly unsteady as he navigated to the notes app. After a moment, he started typing quickly, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency despite the clear signs of agitation.
Dr. Troi stepped closer, speaking in a calm and reassuring tone. "Bubba, whatever you're typing, please remember we're all here to help you. If you feel overwhelmed at any point, just say the word and we can stop."
Ahsoka stands near, her eyes flickering with understanding. "I see you writing. Take your time, Bubba."
Mew wrote, "this is mew, Bubba will be back at some point, think I just need a nap. sorry about matcha, to be fair he did just ask for one thing. I don't speak, sorry."
Dr. Troi nods sympathetically as she reads Bubba’s message, her eyes flicking between Bubba and the datapad. "Bubba, I understand that you need rest. However, I'm concerned about the rapid switching between alter personalities. Have you experienced this before? Does it typically precede a longer episode?"
Ahsoka leans in, speaking softly. "Bubba, I know you're tired. But we really need to establish some ground rules here. You can't just leave us in the dark about your condition. If you're switching between personalities so quickly, it could be dangerous. Do you think you could stay here and let us monitor you for a bit? We'll make sure you're safe while you rest."
Mew continues typing, "guys this is perfectly normal for me, or it was, Bubba has been the host recently, 3, 4, and matcha all went dormant for a while. there are usually more of us here switching every few hours or even more often. yes I usually switch in just a split second. I’m fine, my head just hurts from the light injury. I don't have episodes, we've had this under control for a few years now. I've just never been struck in the head I guess, not in many years, I've been careful."
Dr. Troi reads Bubba’s message, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Bubba, I appreciate your insight into your condition. However, I must point out that rapid, uncontrolled switching between alters can indeed be dangerous, especially if there are physical injuries involved. Have you ever had a medical evaluation for your D.I.D.? It would be prudent to have a thorough check-up, both physically and mentally, to ensure there are no underlying issues we need to address."
Ahsoka steps closer, her voice soft but firm. "Bubba, I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to understand—your safety and the safety of everyone around you is paramount."
Mew wrote, "I’ll do your tests if you have to but I promise I’m fine now, the body was just discombobulated, I control the body and the switching, i.e., I was under the weather for a sec. the staff that hit my head wasn't that bad, it's not even bleeding. please relax, Ahsoka, Troi. I am in control now, Bubba probably is just resting after such a crazy few days."
Dr. Troi nods slowly, her eyes searching Bubba’s as if trying to peer into his very soul. "Bubba, I understand your desire for control and independence. However, I must insist on a thorough examination. Your wellbeing is our primary concern, and we cannot in good conscience let you leave without ensuring there are no hidden complications from your injury or the rapid switching of alters."
Ahsoka steps forward, her expression a mix of concern and determination. "Bubba, I know you're capable and strong-willed. But right now, we need to put your safety first. A thorough check-up will give us peace of mind and ensure you're in the best possible condition to continue your work."
Mew wrote, “very well, you would like water though. Let the tests begin! :).”
Dr. Troi smiles gently, appreciating his acquiescence.
"Of course, Bubba. Ahsoka, would you be so kind as to fetch a glass of water for our patient?"
As Ahsoka nods and heads off to the dispenser, Dr. Troi turns back to Bubba, her expression warm and reassuring. "I know this may seem daunting, Bubba, but I promise you—we're here to support you, not to judge or restrict. A thorough examination will help us understand your unique condition better and provide you with the best possible care."
Ahsoka returns shortly with a cup of water, which she hands to Bubba with a soft smile. "Here you go, Bubba."
Mew gave a thumbs up and smiles.
Dr. Troi returns his smile, though hers is tinged with professional concern. "Thank you, Bubba. Now, I'm going to start by asking you some questions about your physical symptoms. Have you experienced any dizziness, headaches, or changes in vision since the injury to your head? Any nausea or vomiting?"
Ahsoka stands nearby, alert and ready to help if needed. Her hand rests near her lightsaber hilt, a habit she's developed after so many years of combat. She meets Bubba’s gaze, giving him an encouraging nod. "Bubba, I know you're tough. But remember—we're on your side, always. Take your time and be honest with Dr. Troi, okay?"
Mew wrote, "Headache, was dizzy, could use migraine meds. Vision clear."
Dr. Troi makes a note of his symptoms on her data pad. "Very well, Bubba. I can prescribe something for the migraines if needed. Now, let's move on to some more detailed questions about your D.I.D. Can you tell me about your alters? How many are there? Do they have distinct personalities and memories?" Her voice is warm but probing, clearly looking for any additional insights into his condition.
Ahsoka watches intently as Bubba responds, her brow furrowed slightly in concern. "Bubba, we both know you've got a complex system in there. But if you can provide some specifics to Dr. Troi, it might help with the evaluation."
Bubba wrote, “20–22 alters. Yes, although we don't usually separate memories in the present, like matcha would have gotten a summary of memories thrown his way if we hadn't been hit in the head."
Dr. Troi's eyes widen slightly as she processes his response. "Twenty to twenty-two alters, you say? That's quite complex, Bubba. Have you ever lost time due to switching? Any gaps in memory or confusion about where you are or who you're talking to?"
Mew wrote, “Yes, no to the second aside from just then with matcha.”
Dr. Troi's face relaxes slightly, relief visible in her expression. "I'm glad to hear you haven't been experiencing significant memory gaps, Bubba. That's an encouraging sign." She pauses, considering her next question carefully. "Now, I'd like to ask about your triggers for switching. Have you noticed any patterns or situations that tend to bring on a change in alter?"
Mew wrote, "Ahsoka relax darling I'm truly fine. I, mew, have been here this whole time in the background. I sometimes get triggered when I see something that would have pissed my parents off. Or me off... otherwise I don't get triggered in a negative way. Well, maybe extreme depression for a few hours sometimes. But that's rare now.”
Dr. Troi's face softens with understanding as she listens. "Thank you for sharing that, Bubba. It's clear you have a strong support system here, which is crucial for managing D.I.D." She makes another note on her data pad. "Now, about the depression—have you noticed any patterns there? Any particular events or situations that seem to trigger it?"
Ahsoka's grip on Bubba’s arm tightens slightly, her eyes narrowing in concern. "Bubba, I'm glad you're feeling better. But if you ever need to talk about anything that's bothering you, you know I'm here, right? We all are."
Mew wrote, “Thanks Ahsoka, I’m aware y’all are just trying to help. Please understand my perspective. I fully grasp what's going on and am fine now. I guess if I get whacked in the head I might have memory loss and switch for a bit. No big deal. I get depressed for a few hours pretty easily, over small stuff, like when I think people don't like me or say no to me. It's the bpd. I try to manage it and understand people."
Dr. Troi nods, taking in his words with a thoughtful expression. "Borderline Personality Disorder, you mentioned. That's a significant piece of the puzzle, Bubba. It's important to address both the D.I.D. and the BPD to ensure comprehensive care. Let's focus on managing both conditions effectively." She turns to Ahsoka. "Ahsoka, could you please step out for a moment? I need to conduct a few more sensitive tests and ask some personal questions that might be easier for Bubba to answer without you present."
Ahsoka nods, understanding the need for privacy. She gives his arm a gentle squeeze before standing up. "I'll be right outside if you need me, Bubba. Just call out."
Mew wrote, “Relax dear. Go calm down, I'll be fine. Sorry to scare you, like Bubba said, we’re pretty complex.”
Dr. Troi watches Ahsoka leave the room, then turns back with a gentle smile. "Thank you for your understanding, Bubba. I know this process can feel intrusive at times, but I assure you, it's all part of helping you get the care you need." She pauses, considering her next question carefully. "Now, I'd like to ask about your alters. Specifically, can you tell me more about the one who was present when you were attacked? Matcha?"
Mew wrote, “Matcha is like 12 to 15 years old and usually is a good guy. He and Bubba fight sometimes, that's all. Matcha is probably jealous of Bubba and Ahsoka and worries she won't like him as much, which triggers my bpd I guess.”
Dr. Troi makes a note, her brow furrowing slightly. "I see. That's a complex dynamic you're describing, Bubba. The jealousy between alters can be particularly challenging to manage." She leans forward slightly, speaking in a gentle, confidential manner. "Has there been any violence or self-harm associated with these internal conflicts between Matcha and Bubba? Any times when the two personalities came to the surface at once?"
Her voice is low and deliberate now. "This kind of conflict can be incredibly painful, Bubba. I'm here to help you work through it and find healthier ways to manage your alters' relationship with each other, and with your primary identity as well."
Mew wrote, “We frequently co-host and share the mind and body. They usually get along fine. No self harm aside from nail biting.”
Dr. Troi's expression relaxes slightly at this reassurance. "That's a good sign, Bubba. It's crucial that we foster a sense of cooperation and understanding among your alters. It sounds like Matcha and Bubba have a contentious relationship, but it's positive that they haven't resorted to self-harm." She pauses. "I'd like to try a few exercises to help you communicate more effectively with your alters. This will help us understand their needs and concerns better."
She took a deep breath, her voice steady and calm. "Let's start with Matcha. Can you try to invite him to the forefront, so we can have a conversation with him directly?"
Matcha suddenly said, "Can I just fricking—" but Mew cut him off, glaring sharply to his left.
Dr. Troi raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in Bubba’s demeanor, her eyes flicking to the left as if trying to follow his gaze. "Matcha, I presume?" she asked softly, her voice steady and non-judgmental. She leaned back slightly, giving Bubba space, and waited for a response.
The room seemed to grow colder, and the air felt heavier. Bubba’s eyes narrowed, his voice shifting subtly into a more youthful, defiant tone. "Yeah, it’s me. What do you want?" Matcha said, his voice laced with both curiosity and hostility.
Dr. Troi nodded calmly, acknowledging the younger alter’s presence. "Hello, Matcha. I'm Dr. Troi, and I'm here to help Bubba and all of his alters. I understand you and Bubba have had some conflicts, and I want to work with you both to find a healthier way to coexist."
She paused, letting Matcha process her words. "I know it can be frustrating and painful to feel jealous or left out. But I want you to know that you're an important part of Matthew, and your feelings matter."
"Matthew doesn’t exist," Matcha growled. "He’s just a concept. We exist, no matter how shitty life gets..." He sighed, his voice softening just slightly. "I guess I’m glad Bubba’s having fun. I worry it’ll blow up in his face though. We have bad luck. Very bad luck."
Dr. Troi nodded, her eyes reflecting empathy and curiosity. "I see, Matcha. It's not uncommon for alters to feel that way, especially when they’ve been through a lot. But let’s focus on the present and how we can make things better for all of you."
She leaned forward, voice soft but firm. "You mentioned that you and Bubba have had conflicts. Can you tell me more about what triggers them? What thoughts or emotions lead to these disagreements?"
Matcha’s expression softened a touch, though defiance lingered in his voice. "It’s just…"
Mew shook his head and wrote, "No. I’m not ready to divulge every little thing to you right now, sorry. I’ve already had a long day. I need rest. I am fine."
Dr. Troi nodded again, warmly. "I completely understand, Matcha. It’s okay you’re not ready to share everything. Healing is a process, and it’s important to respect your own pace."
She leaned back slightly. "You’re right, it has been a long day. Let’s take a break for now. You’re doing great—brave and open-minded. I’m really proud of you."
"Thanks," Matcha replied, before continuing, "I’m going to my room now. Thanks again, doc. Sorry for the trouble. Wait—I guess I should find Ahsoka."
Dr. Troi smiled warmly. "No trouble at all, Matcha. You’re never a bother. As for Ahsoka, I believe she went to the mess hall."
Matcha nodded, a small smile forming. "Alright, thanks, doc. I appreciate it." At the door, he paused. "And hey, don’t worry about me and Bubba too much. We’ll figure it out. We always do."
With that, Matcha slipped out into the corridor. Dr. Troi watched him go, jotting down a few notes.
A short while later, Matcha entered the mess hall. The room bustled with crew members, voices merging into a low hum. He spotted Ahsoka in a corner, sipping tea and gazing out the viewport at the stars.
"Yo, I’m healed, haha. It’s Matcha. Looks like I’m here till after we sleep, I bet. Mew says hi. Mew wants to hug you."
Ahsoka’s ears perked at his voice, a warm smile spreading across her face. She pushed out a chair with her foot. "Well, hello there, Matcha. I’m so glad to see you." She leaned forward, eyes fixed on him. "You look tired. How are you feeling? Mew says hi! And wants to hug me? How adorable is that?"
She opened her arms, and Matcha embraced her with unrestrained joy. The warmth was grounding.
"Mmm, right," he murmured, shivering slightly. "Thanks. Um, I just wanted to let you know I’m fine. I need to sleep this headache off."
Ahsoka’s face softened at the wince. She cupped his cheek gently. "Of course, sweetheart. You’ve been through a lot today." Standing, she moved closer, her presence soothing. "I’ll walk you to your quarters. You shouldn’t be alone right now, not with that head injury."
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him toward the exit. The mess hall blurred away. "Do you want me to stay with you for a while? I can bring tea, or just sit until you fall asleep."
"Um… I don’t know. Yes and no."
"That’s okay," Ahsoka said, still holding him close. "Why don’t we get you back to your room, and we can talk more there?"
They walked through the corridors of the Infinity, the familiar hum of the ship fading into the background. Reaching his quarters, Ahsoka keyed the door open and led him inside. "Why don’t you change into something comfortable, and I’ll make us some tea?"