Four Times Acronix Reassured Krux that he wasn't Weird...

by Purplefern

Summary:

... and One Time he had evidence to prove it.

(A quasi-five times fic focusing on the idea of neurodivergent Time Twins.)

Notes:

Welcome to my steep and rapid descent down the Neurodivergent Time Twins rabbit hole.

Chapter 1: Sensory Sensitivity

A young, 7 year old Krux walked out the changing room, pulling anxiously at the neck of the new tunic his mother had just purchased and told him to change into. He didn’t know what it was made of, but it itched . Everywhere the new fabric touched felt like thousands of little bugs biting at his skin. He scratched at the arm, rolling the sleeve up so it would get off of him . 

 

“Isn’t this a nice shirt?” his mother beamed when he walked up to meet her, while he alternated tugging at the sleeves, hem, and neck with no verbal reply. His mother seemed satisfied with that, and turned away to get back to shopping. 

 

Standing uncomfortably, he looked around the store, making sure that his mother was busy browsing shelves of hanging shirts and tunics, probably looking for something for his brother (who was busy running randomly around the store.)

 

Fed up, and satisfied that his mother was distracted for the moment,  the boy eventually slid the whole shirt off of him, walking out of the store and throwing it into the dirt road. He sighed in relief at finally getting rid of the scratching clothing, leaning satisfactorily against the store’s entryway. 

 

“Krux!” shouted the woman almost immediately, sweeping past him to grab the discarded clothing from the dust, sweeping at it even as she leveled him with a disappointed glare that made him wince. “ Why would you throw a perfectly nice new shirt like this into the dirt?” 

 

“It was scratchy!” he protested, wrinkling his nose at the shirt that his mother held up and was looking at forlornly. 

 

“That is no reason to be so disrespectful! I just bought that for you, you can’t just be throwing it on the ground!” she lectured, waving her finger at him scoldingly. At the raised voices, his brother had halted in his running in circles, and came over to stand supportively at Krux’s side. (Which he definitely didn’t need, because he definitely wasn’t tearing up. Crying at getting in trouble was for babies, which Krux certainly wasn’t.) 

 

“But I don’t want to wear it!” he argued with all his seven year old might, crossing his arms tightly over his bare chest (and suppressing a shiver. He’d rather be cold than wear that painful thing again.) 

 

“Yeah, mamma, he doesn’t wanna!” chimed in Acronix, thinking it a very strong endorsement on his brother’s behalf. 

 

“Nixie, please, you aren’t helping,” she said levely to the slightly younger twin, who stared, aghast at the fact that his masterful persuasion had been so easily dismissed. 

Looking around the very public but fortunately empty street, she turned back to her older, and still shirtless, child, the mother’s mouth forming into a tight frown. Krux stepped closer to his twin apprehensively. “We all have things in life we don’t like,” informed his mother sternly, tugging his hands down by his side and putting the tunic back over his head despite his struggling. 

 

“No! I don’t like it ,” he cried out, wriggling to escape from the material that was already making his skin crawl just from being over his shoulders. 

 

His mom sighed sadly, pulling the shirt back on her difficult son with a final yank. “Why are you so stubborn, Krux?” Kneeling down and looking at her son sympathetically, she put a hand on his small shoulder (effectively pinning him in the shirt he was already trying to escape, though that wasn’t her intent). “Son, I can understand that you might not like this shirt, but you can’t just take it off. Sometimes you just don’t like things that you have to do.” She gave him a crooked warm smile, hoping he understood. 

 

But the shirt was already back to burning and Krux was anxiously shifting his shoulders trying to get away from it and didn’t reply. 

 

His mother took the silence as a sign he was done arguing, and planted a kiss on his forehead, telling him, “I still have to do some more shopping. You and your brother be good.” She lifted her hand from the older twin’s shoulders, ruffled the unruly hair of the younger, and turned back into the shop. 

 

As soon as she left, Krux was already picking at the shirt, trying to worm away from the feeling of biting bugs. He desperately wanted to tear it off again, but forced himself to resist to avoid angering his mother again. His brother seemed to pick up on his discomfort, his bright gold eyes observing his twin perceptively. “Are you alright, brother?” 

 

Krux pulled at the hem of the cloth, muttering, “I can’t wear this, Nix. It’s all burny .” 

 

“Then don’t!” his twin helpfully suggested. 

 

“I can’t do that. I don’t want to get in trouble with mother again,” he complained, shrinking from the memory of his mother staring at him so disappointedly. 

 

“Hmm,” his brother, tapped at his chin with his index finger, tapping his foot rapidly as he tried to find a solution for his twin brother. Realizing something, he exclaimed, “ Again! What if you didn’t get into trouble the first time!” Shaking his brother’s shoulder excitedly, but letting go quickly when he saw his distress at the gesture, he explained with a mischievous smile, “Use your powers and go back to before mother yelled at you-- before you put the shirt on. I have a plan.” 

 

Krux looked at his brother skeptically. His parents said not to use his powers except for an emergency, and he didn’t want to have to wear that power blocking necklace his brother always ended up wearing when he got into trouble with their parents. Plus, Acronix’s plans were usually...not the best. But his skin was still crawling painfully, and he didn't exactly have a better idea, which to his young mind was an emergency. Concentrating, his fist glowed yellow as the young boy called on his powers. Making sure to take his brother along with him, he turned back the clock, his mother walking backwards towards him, resting in front of him, and then walking backwards further-- going back to the racks of clothes where she had been when this all started while he went back inside the changing room. 

 

He sighed in relief when he was back in his own comfortable shirt, the annoying new one now just laying in his hands. He stared worriedly at the changing room doors, hoping that Acronix knew what he was doing. A minute passed, and he started to fidget nervously. 

 

Right when he was considering peeking out of the room to see what was going on, his brother peered into the room, hair even more messy than usual and grinning impishly. “Alright, brother. Mother is distracted for the moment. Now we can put my plan into work.” 

 

“And what plan exactly is that, brother?” questioned the boy, following his brother as he sneaked along the edge of the store. Krux heard a distant commotion, but didn’t want to think about what his brother might have done for his amazing idea so tried to ignore it and just follow alongside his twin. 

 

He pointed to the shirt, explaining with a self-satisfied smirk, “You hate that stinky tunic and it hurt you. So you ditch it and grab another one, and mother will never know!”

 

“ That was your big plan?” questioned the past-powered youth, knowing even at his young age that that was a pretty straightforward tactic. Not exactly impressive. 

 

Acronix crossed his arms, pouting, “Well, it’s working so far, isn’t it?” 

 

Well. He couldn’t really argue with that. Shrugging, he peered at the selection of shirts and tunics in his size, touching each of them to see if they were any better than the one his mother had bought. Periodically, his brother would run off to do FSM-knew-what to keep their mother away from him. Considering his grin grew steadily more evil every time he returned, Krux decided that he was better off not knowing. 

 

Eventually he did find something he could actually tolerate, and quickly pulled it on, tossing the tunic his mother had paid for into a pile of clothes to hide the evidence. And then burying it under a few more layers just because he didn’t like it and wanted to spite it. There. Now he had a top he could actually manage to wear, and his mother and the shop keeper lost no money. It sounded like the perfect conclusion to the young boy. 

 

The time twins both nodded satisfactorily at their plan’s success. At least, until their mother returned, gasping for breath and staring at a suddenly sheepish Acronix. “We will be having a talk when we get home young man!” She scolded, catching her breath. Her gaze softened when she looked over at Krux, who was staring up at her innocently. She gave him a smile, ruffling his hair. “Well. At least one of my boys wasn’t getting into trouble. Thank you Krux.” 

He glanced over at his younger twin, grateful and also surprised that he would be willing to get into trouble for him. 

 

“Well. At least we’ve got that shopping done. Now you two have some nice presentable clothes. Let’s go home.” their mother declared, and the two boys nodded aggressively in agreement. 

 

As they left the shop, Krux was glad that he could finally feel comfortable again, and was grateful (not for the last time) that his brother was so daring. He wasn’t one for hugs, but he did bump his twin’s shoulder appreciatively, telling him quietly so that their mother wouldn’t hear, “Thanks, Acronix. There’s no way I would have been able to wear that terrible thing.” 

 

“Not a problem, brother,” he replied, grinning cheekily, “That was fun!” 

Notes:

Do I have any concrete, canon, evidence for any of this? No. Not really. But I have completely fallen in love with the idea of neurodivergent time twins. I think it adds a lot of depth to their characters and especially their motivations for going against the other Elemental Masters. And it obviously gives a great opportunity for brotherly fluff, so what’s not to love about that?

I'm going to add these chapters literally as I finish them. So the gap could be hours or days (but more likely hours because I'm in love with this concept.)

Kudos, comments, etc are always much loved. Hope you enjoy so far, see you next chapter.

Chapter 2: Over stimulation / Meltdown

Summary:

A ten year old Krux has a meltdown, Acronix finds him and is a good bro (but when isn't he a good bro? :3).

Krux was not in a good situation. His brother had wandered off at some point when the two ten year olds had been sent to market to buy some groceries, and now the older twin was by himself in the bustling street. 

 

He pushed himself forwards, moving against the crowd of people that seemed to get larger with every step, telling himself that he was the older twin (alright, the older twin by three minutes, but still the older one. Father and mother always told him he was the responsible one, anyway). He was in the double digits, and he was just going shopping . He was definitely not struggling. 

 

But the deeper he got into the busy shopping square, the louder it became, and the more aware he became of the people passing around him. Every second it seemed like someone was brushing up against him or bumping into him, and each time it happened it just jostled him more and more. So many people were talking, and the voices were all so loud , conversations layering over conversations and the whole thing forming a discordant wave that made his head pound. Another person brushed by his side and he flinched away. The grown up gave him an odd look at his cringing, and he forced a smile onto his face even though his nerves were screaming. 

 

Forget shopping, he decided. He just wanted to find his brother and go home. It was just too crowded out here today. He started chewing on his nails nervously as he turned around and tried to find his way back. His view was just met with an overwhelming swirling pattern of colors as people went about their business, flocking from stall to stall, and he lost all sense of where he was. The murmuring voices had risen even louder, submerging all of his other thoughts. He stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily as people continued to push by his side around him, each touch sending his thoughts screaming. And there was still so much noise. He just wanted it to stop . 

 

With a high pitched scream that caused the people around him to pause in their actions and stare at the child with a collection of puzzled, annoyed, and disturbed looks, Krux collapsed into a ball on the ground. Fisting his hands in his hair, he wailed again, this time a sphere of red light surrounding him and all of the people around him, their expressions frozen in place. Oblivious to what he had caused around him, the time user rocked on his heels, hands moving over his ears to drown out the noise while he yelled sensely at the people to just shut up . 

 

On the other side of the marketplace, Acronix looked abruptly up from where he had been browsing an interesting looking gadget in a storefront when a large red light shot above the building roofs. “Krux?” he exclaimed while the other shoppers muttered to each other worriedly and confused. He knew his brother’s power when he saw it, and he could feel the telltale tingling of temporal displacement that happened whenever one of the brothers used their powers. Immediately dropping the item he had been looking at, he rushed over to the location of the bright light. 

 

He entered into the red bubble, scanning worried yet impressed over the people paused in the middle of their shopping. In one case he couldn’t stop himself from adjusting the trajectory of an item trapped mid-air, snickering when he thought about it missing its mark when this subsided. Hearing a shouting voice that he knew was his twin, he immediately yelled at himself for getting distracted and settled back into a light jog towards the sphere’s center. 

 

Huddled in the middle, surrounded by adults caught mid-stare, sat his brother, curled up into a ball and shouting seemingly at nothing. Acronix frowned, knowing that this wasn’t the first time he had found his brother like this. 

 

“Krux?” he asked, in a much more gentle voice than most people would think him capable of, approaching his older twin carefully. His brother had stopped shouting, but didn’t reply to him-- staying in his protective ball position. Getting a little closer he prompted again, “Krux? Brother?” Normally Acronix couldn’t stand being slow or quiet -- too aware of the feeling of time passing to want to waste any of it -- but this had happened before and startling Krux while he was like this only made it worse. So, slowly he made his way to his brother’s side, sitting down beside him in the middle of the dirt road. 

 

“Krux? Are you alright?” he asked a third time, and this time his brother seemed to finally become aware of his presence, dropping his hands from his ears slightly and actually looking at him, though he still said nothing and the people all remained paused around them. Catching his twin’s eyes, Acronix gave a shaky smile, but kept his distance (his brother didn’t like physical contact at the best of times, and as much as he wanted to hug his brother for his own comfort, he had a feeling it wouldn’t help anything right now.) “This was one of those bad days, wasn’t it, brother?” He asked knowingly. Sometimes there were just days where everything seemed more difficult for Krux. None of them knew why, but the time twin’s mother had taken to calling them his “bad days”, and Acronix had become pretty skilled at spotting them. He felt a small surge of guilt at not noticing earlier, and leaving his brother by himself. He had just found this interesting store, and he had gone to look at it, he hadn’t thought . Krux was still staring silently at nothing, the world on pause around him, and Acronix took a deep breath and pushed the thought away. That was in the past, and it certainly wasn’t helping Krux now. 

 

So he sat next to his brother quietly and waited, longer than anyone who knew the energetic child would have thought he was able. The true amount of time he spent there was impossible to place while the world remained frozen in its tracks around them. Acronix gazed over the looming faces of the on pause passing adults unashamedly, making faces at the ones that he thought looked especially rude. Eventually, after he made one particularly mocking expression at an adult whose face was locked in a disgusted glare directed towards Krux, his twin made the first sound in a while, giggling lightly at his brother’s expression. 

 

“Brother!” remarked the ten year old at the sound, glad to have his twin back. Turning towards him he asked, concern gleaming in his eyes, “Are you alright, brother?” 

 

Krux took a shaky breath, uncurling slowly from himself both physically and mentally, and nodded. 

 

Acronix whoosed a large sigh in relief, before jumping to his feet and gestring broadly at the scene around them, “I have to say, this is impressive, brother! Look at them, stuck!” He barked out a laugh at the surrounding adults' frozen faces. 

 

Krux did look at them, feeling the exact opposite of his brother’s amusement when he saw the looks on the grown ups’ faces. Indignant shame welled up in him as he noticed all of their shared startled and appalled expressions. They looked rather like he felt about himself at the moment, and he crossed his arms tightly to himself with a scowl. 

 

Acronix noticed when his brother fell silent once again, and promptly plopped back down beside him. “What? You are not the least bit proud that you managed to time stop so many people? And for so long?” 

 

“No, because I should not have had to. This was just supposed to be a simple shopping trip,” he took another quick look at the faces around him, hoping that Acronix wouldn’t notice. 

 

Unfortunately, his brother was all too perceptive, and worried about his brother at the moment, so he caught on right away. He followed the older twin’s gaze to the especially-disgusted-looking older man that he had just been mocking. “You don’t have to worry about them brother!” he snorted, waving towards the man dismissively, “I mean, look what you did! They are fools to look down on people with powers as amazing as ours.” 

 

Krux could feel his confidence boost by his brother’s statement, the feeling growing as he really looked at the scene around him. There had to be at least ten people trapped in his time bubble, which, now that he thought about it, was pretty impressive. He felt a smile work its way onto his face at the realization-- one which his brother enthusiastically echoed. 

 

Despite his confidence lifting his mood, all at once he felt drained, and slumped over where he sat. This had been an exhausting experience, and more than anything he just wanted to go home. With an in-syncness that only twins could share, Acronix seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and shot to his feet, reaching down to grab his twin’s hands and pull him up as well. 

 

“Let’s go home, brother,”

 

“But, the groceries…” he halfheartedly complained, worried still about his role as the responsible one. 

 

Acronix waved it off, scoffing, “Forget about them. We’ll just tell mamma and pops that you were having one of your bad days and they will just have to deal with it.” Looking around one more time he added with a wisdom born from experience, “Let’s not tell them about this time stop bubble, though.” 

 

He smirked confidently at his twin who couldn't help smiling back. He joined hands with his brother, something Krux usually disliked but at that moment it kept him calm and assured they wouldn’t be separated again, as they navigated their way through the still crowd. Once free from the bubble Krux was dead set on heading towards the gate that led to the dirt road leading back home but his brother teased with a mischievous grin, “Hold on Krux!”

 

The younger directed his twin's attention to the stasis bubble as it finally dissipated, no longer being maintained by the time elemental’s presence. Krux tensed ever slightly as the whirlwind of movement resumed (even though they were far enough away at this point to not make contact) but was pleasantly surprised at what his brother had done. As the disgruntled adult’s time lurched forward once more he was met with a heavy playball in his face that Acronix had moved from it’s arc. 

 

The two shared a rebellious laugh. “If adults can’t see how great you are then they'll get whacked in the face! It was only fair after all,” Acronix chuckled at his brother who’s mood had changed dramatically from the withdrawn and frightened boy of mere minutes prior.

 

The walk back was calming and quiet, which Krux liked very much. With his brother there, he was able to distract from the crowds that flowed in their continuous wave around them as they walked through the square and towards the road to home. Acronix chattered about interesting things in the shop, the possibilities of using their quickly developing time powers for even funnier pranks, and the occasional ridiculous one liner that he insisted was the next big phrase. Krux just listened, letting his brother's voice drive away the others the whole way home.

Notes:

ANODDER ONE!

This was fun to write. I love thinking about how emotional states and powers interact, especially when it comes to the Time Twin's powers.

Kudos, comments, etc, always appreciated, hope you liked. See ya in the next chapter. :)

Chapter 3: Social Communication

Summary:

Krux always hated the pre-meeting small talk at the Elemental Master gatherings. He never knew what to do during it. If only there were a way to skip it all...

Notes:

Forgot to mention, the Twims are about 18/19 in this story

Small talk. It was always small talk. Because of his twin and his cursed accelerated perception of timing, they always ended up early to these Elemental Masters’ meetings. Which meant that Krux had to spend far more time than he liked standing around in the Monastery's courtyard with practical strangers who seemed to have no trouble at all just making conversation with one another. Meanwhile he stood to the outside, hanging tight against the inner walls of the monastery and just did his best to grin and bear it, hoping none of the other elemental users could catch on to how truly unmoored and uncomfortable he felt. He and his brother prided themselves on being the strongest of the elementals. If the others knew it took something as small as this to unnerve him they would be undone. 

 

“Master of the Past,” he finally realized the deep voice of the Master of Ice was addressing him, and looked over at him, not quite catching the elder master’s eyes. 

 

Looking gruffly satisfied that he finally had the young man’s attention, Ice noted dryly, “I have been attempting to get your attention for some time.” 

 

He had? Krux honestly hadn’t noticed. Outwardly, he simply scoffed, retorting just as dryly, “Apologies if you are not important enough to claim all of my attention. I’d rather focus on business than pointless small talk,” he defended. 

 

There was a certain satisfaction from having the Master of Ice’s expression turn to annoyance at his intentional smartassery. Good. Better to appear disdainful of the proceedings rather than the unsure that he actually felt. With any luck the smart remark would get the Master of Ice to stop talking to him. 

 

Regrettably, the man’s eyes narrowed, and he commented with the scolding air of a disappointed school teacher, “This is precisely what I was wanting to speak with you about.”

 

Krux stiffened defensively, mouth pulling into a sharp scowl. 

 

Ice frowned right back, lecturing, “You -- and your brother but I’ll talk with him at a later date -- could attempt to be less rude to your fellow masters. The both of you act like you are so much superior, avoiding people’s eyes, behaving as though you’re too good to speak with the rest of us, or if you do, taking over the entire conversation.” 

 

Krux grit his teeth at the elder man’s string of complaints, and sharply looked away. He knew of the issues that the Master of Ice spoke of. He never could get through a conversation right. He knew his flaws. But he did not need to be hearing this from the Master of Ice. He was not Krux’s teacher, he was not Krux’s father . 

 

“Krux,” spoke Ice again, his voice now far less stern. Krux hazarded to look back up at him again as the man said his actual name rather than his title. The older man’s scolding expression had faded, and was instead staring at the young time elemental with a strong sympathy, “I only say this because I don’t want you -- or your brother-- to become disliked. We are a team, here. We are stronger if we are all unified. Avoiding your fellow Elemental Masters, or shutting them down before they can so much as say a word, will only serve to isolate you two.” 

 

Krux chewed on his thumbnail, looking to the monastery wall instead of the ice elemental and desperately wishing for this conversation to end. He had no idea how to respond to that. With no other ways to reply at hand, he ripped his hand away to cross his arms, and simply hoped that Ice would take his silence as more disdain.  

 

He became a painful squirming mixture of relieved and ashamed when the Master of Ice heaved a heavy disappointed sigh, and turned away. Good riddance he thought, at the same time feeling pointendly how much of a failure he had been just then. As powerful and smart as he knew he was, it always burned when he came to a complete blank on what to say to someone. 

 

Oblivious of his state, the rest of the room carried on with its casual air. The Master of Ice had drifted over to converse with the Master of Lightning, the two going through an effortless back and forth and laughing. Krux’s eyes bored onto the scene with envy, especially when the Master of Gravity joined the group with ease. The Masters looked over at him with unsubtle stares, and in that moment, he hated them. Hated how they, inferior elements that they were, did with ease what he himself struggled with regularly. Hated how they dared to judge him for whether he talked with them or not. Hated their stares that all-too-easily labelled him ‘other’. He hated the whole enterprise and felt like leaving right then and there. 

 

It was while he was silently fuming in these thoughts that his brother sidled next to his spot on the wall from where he had been more than happily blathering about anything and everything to his elemental allies. His default smile turned crooked as he observed his brother’s attitude. “Oh no. someone’s mad,” he said snarkily, going to lean on the wall beside his seething older twin, settling into a crossed arm stance as well. 

 

Krux just grunted angrily in reply, still staring venomously at the other elementals. 

 

Rolling his eyes and tilting his head against his shoulders, his brother asked with an exaggerated sympathy, “Alright, brother. What happened?” 

 

“The Master of Ice felt the need to bestow some helpful advice,” he explained bitterly. 

 

“Ah, ole’ icy heart and cold consul himself. I’m sure that was a very fun conversation,” joked the master of future time, having been on the receiving end of Ice’s scoldings quite a few times himself. 

 

“‘Fun conversation’ sounds rather like an oxymoron,” mused Krux dryly, tapping a finger against the crook of his elbow, golden eyes watching intensely as the crowds and conversations shifted and flowed to a rhythm he could not step in time to. “I despise all of this useless chatter. Small talk is pointless,” he complained tersely. 

 

Acronix frowned, a split second away from telling his brother he was being a stick-in-the-mud, but was paused by one of those twin feelings that said this was more than Krux being a grump. Shrugging, he instead suggested, “Well, then, we can simply leave. All of these meetings are boring, anyway,” while he personally enjoyed the pre-meeting niceties, he had had his fun and was more than alright with skipping another one of Wu’s inane lectures. 

 

To his disappointment, the other hand of time shook his head. “We still need to attend the meeting, brother. There is a war going on, and we would do well to stay informed. It’s just all of this wasting time before the meeting that I despise.”  

 

Acronix thought on that, he grinned fiercely and held up a green glowing fist, quipping, “Well, I could just, as they say, ‘skip the formalities’. Or rather, ‘skip to the formalities’, in this case,” he amended with a lopsided smirk. 

 

The older hand of time considered the suggestion, looking between his brother’s glowing fist and the groups of chatting elementals. Setting his jaw determinedly, he nodded sharply, saying, “Do it.” 

 

The future twin grabbed his brother's hand, and with a green flash of his power, the two were transported to the center of the monastery grounds, the crowds breaking up around them at a rapid pace. When time resumed its normal paces once again, Wu and his brother were standing to the front of the crowd, calling for silence. Rather than the friendly groups of before, every elemental was standing to attention, focusing on the displayed maps and plans laid out by the masters of creation and destruction. 

 

From where he stood next to his brother, both twins still set a little apart from the rest of the elementals, Krux subtly sighed. He was more than content to listen to the presentation. At least then he wouldn’t be expected to contribute, following along to rules he couldn’t comprehend. The rules of a presentation were simple. Be quiet and be spoken to. He could handle that. 

 

His brother, on the other hand… 

 

Krux gave Acronix a side-eyed look, where he could tell he was already bored with the proceedings. All the more reason for him to pay attention, he decided, taking mental notes for when he would inevitably have to re-explain all of this to Acronix. That was alright, though. It made him feel useful. (It was also the least he could do for his twin in return for his assistance.) 

Notes:

Canon: "Krux and Acronix betrayed the alliance because they were arrogant and power-hungry."

My brain: "But what if they actually did it because they had poor social skills and were treated differently by the other Elemental Masters?"

This got a little more intense than I originally pictured, but I like it anyway.

Kudos, comments, and the like are always appreciated, thanks for reading. :)

Chapter 4: Hyperfixation (and masking)

Summary:

Alone in the present and frustrated with disguises, Krux reminisces.

Notes:

Aahhhh this one’s kinda a mess

Another field trip, another group of unappreciative brats that Krux -- as Sander Saunders, naturally --  had to lead through the museum. And this one was even worse because-- 

 

“This is so boring!” whined the redheaded loudmouth of the group, who had not made his complete disinterest of the exhibit unknown. 

 

“Oh, no!” he protested in a forced light tone, keeping a tight hold on his character all the while, “It’s really all very interesting! The battles, the art, ‘s very exciting!” It was physically painful to keep the dumb smile on his face, but Krux supposed that was the price one paid for a proper revenge plan. It was, supposedly, best served cold. (Even though deep down it continually irked him how no one ever seemed to care about his interests and constantly demeaned his thoughtful presentations. Really, working at the museum was the one thing he enjoyed about this whole pretext, and all of these uncaring children and adults only ever ignored him. Behind the fake moustache and the manufactured grin, it made him mad.) 

 

“I guess,” mumbled the kid, and Krux had to make himself satisfied with that. 

 

They had only gone past a few more exhibits when he heard the same high-pitched brat’s voice complain to his classmates, “Dr Saunders is so weird .” 

 

He grit his teeth at the statement, forcefully reminding himself that that was the point of the character, before he could lash out at the youth. He was supposed to keep the Dr Saunders persona eccentric, goofy, friendly, so that no one would be able to tell it was him. 

 

The insult rankled all the same. He had heard similar remarks tossed behind his back at various points in his life, and his hatred of that word had never left him. Knowing he would never have been able to keep the Saunders act up if he tried to retort, he just carried on and acted as though he hadn’t heard the remark. 

 

Finally the tour was completed, and he was able to retreat back into his hidden workshop for a moment of peace. With a relieved sigh he tore off the fake moustache with a wince, throwing it onto a blueprint-covered work table, before sitting down at it himself. Finally free from his disguise of friendliness, he tapped his fingers against the tabletop and allowed himself to scowl to the empty room. 

 

If I didn’t have to keep up the Sanders Saunders disguise, I would have a word or two with that brat’s parents about respecting your elders he thought angrily, tapping picking up in pace in time with his ire. Really, who was that child to be calling him weird? His mind flashed back to other Elemental Masters, neighbors,and other children who he had caught using the same insult at him before, his frown deepening. Who were any of them to call him anything ? He was a Master of Time. One would have thought that would earn him the respect he was due. And, well, as for the brat, even if Sanders Saunders was supposed to be odd, he still should have known better than to insult a teacher practically to his face. He sighed. Maybe he shouldn’t have made his alter ego quite so eccentric. 

 

Though he knew the necessity of his disguise, and would continue every effort to make sure he had the plan ready for when his brother arrived, he was starting to get tired after day after day of pretending to be someone he was not. 

 

Days of pretending he scoffed, Perhaps a bit more like decades of pretending . Leaning on the worktable, he mused that maybe there was a reason he found it so easy to pretend to be a different person. He often had to lie away his deficiencies, anyway. Lying that he wasn’t interested in conversations, when actually he didn’t know what to do in them. Lying that he was just too busy for parties and gatherings, when actually the crowds and noise levels overwhelmed him and sent him spiralling. Forcing himself to refrain from talking about his true interests when it was clear that no one cared. Really, he was already used to playing a role, perhaps that was why it was so easy for him to put on the guise of Sanders Saunders.

 

All at once, he deflated in his seat, his head falling down to be cradled in his hands against the table. Not for the first time over the course of these long decades of work, he missed his brother, a panging loss that ached just as much as his missing powers. Perhaps because of his twin’s more outgoing personality, others would always think twice before saying something negative about him when his brother was around. And even if they did, Acronix was always ready with a smirk, a witticism, and an assurance that there was nothing wrong with him. (Or, Krux thought with an ironic grin, a payback plan to enact against them.)  

 

 “You don’t have to worry about them brother!” , he recalled his brother’s child-self voice reassuring him, right after one of Krux’s earlier memories of realizing how differently everyone looked at him. “They are fools to look down on people with powers as amazing as ours.”

 

Another moment, another memory, when he had been a teenager on that awkward precipice of child to manhood, his footing in his place in the world uncertain and unformed. He still attempted casual acquaintances then -- young enough to try, but old enough to be more heavily affected by constant rejection on the preface that he was ‘strange’. As it turned out, not many were interested in the topic of Pirate-era Ninjagan architecture. They all had thought he was weird when he had wanted to talk about nothing else, and he had forced himself to silence. 

 

When he had glumly squared off against his brother in training later that day, his twin had noticed his strained silence (all while his storm of ideas pressed against his lips and he desperately wanted to lay them all out). His brother, with his uncanny abilities to somehow know what Krux was thinking even when everyone else didn’t (Acronix claimed it was a special “twin-sense”. Krux suspected it was just his natural perceptiveness), got him to relate the whole story of his failed attempt at connecting with others. 

He had just scoffed. 

“If they will not listen to you, do not bother with listening to them, then!” His brother had told him. “If they do not like your ideas, that is their loss.”   

 

And several years after, during their first (horrible failure of a) victory celebration with the Elemental Masters there had just been something about that day, between the earlier battle, the energy of the party, and the Elemental Alliance’s constant attempts to speak with him that had caused the party to end with him curled into a ball against the wall -- looking for all the world like he had used his pausing powers on himself somehow. He did not remember any of the party itself -- the whole event was a blank void in his mind-- but he remembered vividly how Acronix was there sitting next to him at the end of it, all of the other party-goers turned to slow-motion around them.

 He also remembered, with a clarity accompanied by a sharp anger, seeing even in slow motion the look the Master of Earth was giving him. He had looked at Krux with the surprise of watching someone do something particularly stupid, or like he was a child. Krux wasn’t sure which interpretation made him fume more. “Who cares if they do not understand us?” Acronix had said, waving of the stares of the other Masters. 

“We know we are worth more than every member of this alliance put together. And you’re more intelligent and cunning than any of them. Well, except for myself, perhaps.” 

Roughly shaking his head, he allowed his brother’s voice to reassure him from the past. Exhaling slowly, he flipped open his pocketwatch and watched the second hand click ever forwards. Time continued on, and the moment of his brother’s return was getting ever nearer. With his brother once again by his side, the rest of the world’s accusations and insults would mean nothing. Together, with his twin who truly knew who he was, they would enact the plan and Krux would be vindicated at last. Then they would show them weird . 

 

But he thought -- harshly flipping the watch closed with a satisfying sharp click -- the plan will never be achieved if he does not adequately prepare. 

 

“Back to work,” he pronounced to the quiet room.

Notes:

Ugh, this one was more abstract than the others and really fought me the whole time. Like, I need to keep people in character as much as I can, so I wanted to make Krux sympathetic but also keep him the total vengeful SOB that he is. (Doesn’t help that Acronix isn’t actually there so I have to bend things a little bit to fit the theme.) But I really wanted to look into how he did during that 40 year gap, so I struggled through it.

Then these two kind of mini-stories happened and they were too cute to fight so...

I’m not as sure with this one, so I hope you liked it, such that it is. Comments, kudos, etc always appreciated, please come scream with me on these HCs so I don’t feel so lonely. See you in the next & last chapter. :)

Chapter 5: Diagnosis

Summary:

Krux and Acronix have reunited in the present. Acronix learns that the internet could hold the answers to some life-long mysteries that have always been puzzling about his brother, and is eager to share those answers with his twin.

Acronix slipped out of the hidden door to Krux’s lab, and wandered down the after-hours empty halls of the museum. Alright, so his brother didn’t technically want him ambling around (presumably out of a fear of being caught, but the future twin suspected Krux just missed him), but the only vending machines were outside the hideout. It wasn’t his fault that Krux had no fun snacks, was it?  

 

He had made his way past a large skeleton of some sort (taking a moment to observe it in fascination), when he heard the distinct sound of music drifting into the exhibit room from a distant wing. Curiosity peaked, he followed the sound to see if he could find its origins, listening intently as he walked. It didn’t sound like it was one person’s phone (from what he knew of the devices, they couldn’t get that loud. Then again the technology of the future was very impressive, so he might have been wrong on that front), so he couldn’t help but wonder who would be playing loud music in a closed museum or for what purpose. 

 

Turning a corner, he got his answer fairly quickly. People were scattered all over the wing, many of them holding flutes of bubbling liquid while light hearted music played over the scene. Acronix quickly stepped away from the obvious party to avoid being seen, but continued to watch with interest. Scanning the participants’ well-to-do dress (apparently fashion was one thing that hadn’t changed all that much since he had been gone), and the general fun-yet-restrained atmosphere, he gathered that this wasn’t some elicit party being thrown by trespassers. Seemed like it was some kind of museum event, even though it was a little strange that Krux wouldn’t have thought to mention such a thing. 

 

His suspicion was confirmed when a gray haired man with large round glasses stood in the center of the loose crowd, and tapped at the side of his champagne flute for attention. 

 

“Hello, everyone! I hope you’ve all been having a good night!” 

 

The crowd murmured and nodded positively in response, and the man smiled. 

 

“Well, thank you all for coming down to our celebration for the opening of the ‘Ninjago Hall of Villains Exhibit’! We certainly had our rough patches getting this all open in time, but thanks to everyone’s hard work, we got it done!” 

 

There were light cheers, and louder ones from guests who had had a little more celebratory champagne than the rest. The speaker let the joyful buzz die down some before his smile turned a little more serious. “Of course, a lot of this is thanks to the work of our dedicated curator of history, Dr Sanders Saunders! He unfortunately couldn’t be here tonight, but let’s give a toast to his efforts all the same, huh?” 

 

As the party goers cheerfully raised their glasses to "Dr Saunders", Acronix now wished he had recorded all of this. To think, they were having a whole party in his brother’s honor (technically), and he hadn’t even shown up for it! Of course, he thought with a fond crooked smile, that was Krux for you. He had always hated parties of any kind, and apparently in forty years that hadn’t changed at all. 

 

Really, it was too bad his brother despised parties, though. If he didn’t, perhaps he could have gone to this party being thrown for him and brought his brother along while he was at it! Everyone looked like they were having fun; the music was playing an exciting rhythm, people were laughing, and there was a generally genial air all around. 

 

His smile wavered some when his imaginings were interrupted by reality. Looking back over the crowds of people, he could all-too-clearly picture his brother standing as far to the side as possible and becoming completely miserable. Or possibly even falling into one of his “bad moments”, like he once had at one of the first Elemental Alliance parties they had attended. That was, if he still even struggled with those? Acronix had no idea. He and their parents had never even learned what those moments were let alone knowing whether they could disappear. 

 

In a flash, he looked to his borgpad with newfound realization as these questions weighed on his mind. Creeping away from the celebration, he opened up the web browser, and asked the internet all the problems they had never had answers to. Perhaps, with so much new knowledge in the world, there would be new knowledge on this as well! A wide grin grew on his face as he searched up his query in a flurry of typing. 

 

He opened multiple tabs of research as he learned more and more-- getting closer and closer to solving what had always seemed like a life-long mystery. After coming across many articles that all said the same thing -- and sounded exactly like his brother --the findings were an epiphany, a sudden lightning bolt of knowledge that finally leant the missing puzzle piece to the seemingly unsolvable puzzle that had been plaguing his twin his whole life. 

 

ASD, autistic spectrum disorder, an invisible illness! Modern science was truly amazing, that it was able to find explanations for the seemingly unexplainable, and even more so that he was able to find these explanations with simple searches. 

 

Tablet in hand, he ran straight back to the hidden room -- thrilled at the exciting prospect of presenting his findings to his brother. He would certainly be glad to hear what he had discovered.  

 

As the secret door closed behind him, his brother was still seated at the work table tinkering with something, just like he had been when Acronix had left. He also didn’t seem to notice that his brother was back. The younger time twin rolled his eyes fondly at that. Even when his brother looked so different now, he really hadn’t changed all that much. Forty years ago he would get so involved with projects that he noticed nothing else, and it would seem he was still doing it today. 

 

“I’m back,” he pronounced cheerfully, walking up to the table his brother was at and leaning against it. 

 

“Back? You left?” asked his brother, looking up from the plastic tubing he had been messing with to frown at his brother, “I thought I said not to go wandering around the museum,” he lectured, pointing accustorily at his twin with the screwdriver in his hand. 

 

Wow, okay. Now his brother was just uncannily reminding him of their father. He shrugged the thought off, since there were more important matters at the moment. “You did,” he retorted lightly, “I was just going to find one of those devices that distribute snack foods. You have nothing to eat in here, brother,” he complained, leaning further into the table and crossing his arms. 

 

Krux grumbled unintelligibly as he jotted notes on a piece of paper in front of him, but seemed to have no further refutation to that. 

 

“Oh, by the way,” the younger twin related as though he had just remembered, but with a weight that suggested he was leading up to something bigger, “While I was searching I ran into a celebration the museum was doing. Something about opening up a new wing of the museum, it would appear.” 

 

Krux paused in his writing and shifted in his seat, but offered no more reaction than that. All the same, Acronix saw it as a sign that he was listening, and continued, waving towards his seated brother, “It seems they were even throwing it in your honor, brother. Or, well, at least in the honor of that curator persona of yours.” 

 

“What of it?” dismissed his brother, going viciously back to his work, “You know I hate parties. Utter wastes of time.” 

 

Waving his brother’s protest off, he rolled his eyes and snarked back,“Yes, yes. They’re ‘below you’ and ‘back-patting for the intellectual inferior’, you’ve said many times,” theatrically building up to his final point, he tapped at his chin, exaggeratedly reflecting, “Really, I believe you just hate them in general. And I started asking to myself, ‘why is it that Krux despises parties so?’ And, well, then I discovered a few things...” 

 

Acronix took a deep breath, and slid his borgpad-- showing the results of all of his research -- onto the table. His brother glanced up to give it a scathing glare, but did not look at the screen further or investigate what his brother could mean, instead looking back down at his paper, even though Acronix knew he wasn’t working on anything on it anymore. He was just being ornery. 

 

Acronix frowned, knowing that his brother’s stubbornness about hating everything new was going to prevent him from hearing this information that could be helpful. He didn’t want to see his twin brother be hurt any further because of some ridiculous feud with modern knowledge. 

 

Trying a different tactic, he turned around where he stood to face his brother, sighing loudly, “Krux,” he spoke, his voice for once free of sarcasm, sass, or jesting, instead it was layered with genuine concern that was only ever heard by his brother. And only then when he really meant it. The tone got his older brother’s attention, though he still did not look up from his pretend work. “Brother, I know you always hated it when others called you weird…” he started again, this time without preamble. 

 

That got Krux’s attention immediately, and he finally looked up, glaring daggers at his young twin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deflected harshly, not having talked about this topic in over forty years, and certainly not prepared to do so today. 

 

“Please, I’m your twin, brother,” he scoffed, leaning his elbows against the table to be more at his older twin’s eye level. Tilting his head to the side, he continued, “I know that that did bother you. Do you truly think I didn’t notice?” he chided earnestly with a sad sort of smile. 

 

Leaning over the table, he tapped at the tablet meaningfully, and declared to his brother confidently, “Well, I have discovered something. Something, I think you will like to hear,” picking the tablet back up, he turned the screen towards his twin, showing him all of the proof he had found as he scrolled through it, explaining hopefully, “It is not you who are weird, brother, and I KNOW I’ve always said that, but now there’s scientific proof to support me (not that there was any doubt to my knowledge in the first place),” he paused in his scrolling on the results screen of a test he had taken in curiosity, the declaration and description of signs clearly on display. He held it out further, an open invitation for his brother to take the device and look for himself, and informed him with a hopeful smile, “From the look of things, you just have something they call  ‘Autistic spectrum disorder’.”

 

Krux’s response was immediate, and livid, and Acronix’s smile fell at the unintended result of his discovery. 

 

“Oh, of course. It was all only because of some illness that they have only now ‘ discovered’ ,” he snapped bitterly, tapping his index finger against his own crossed arms. Sarcastically, scowling snidely he mocked, “Thank goodness, modern science has invented an excuse for my failings.” 

 

“No, it’s not like that,” Acronix insisted, shaking his head in exasperation of his brother’s dismissal of his suggestion. Gesturing empathetically he tried to convince him, “It isn’t an excuse or a falsehood. It is a proven biological discovery that it is not your fault you have been doing things wrong, brother. It’s not...you being a failure. Your brain...ah, how did this article phrase it?” He scrolled back through the webpage, trying to find the paragraph that had caught his attention,  “Your brain is just ‘wired differently’,” he tried to explain, gesturing the example of tangled wires and tubing that lay scattered across the work surface. 

 

“What I’m attempting to say is, as much as you have always beaten yourself up for your perceived failings, none of it was your fault.” Grinning in victory, he harshly chirped, re-crossing his arms in a way that said he would take no further arguing, “Now when I defend you, I have inarguable proof. You are not weird. Advanced modern science says so.” 

 

Krux still doubted that was factual, but he was, admittedly, intrigued by the theory. But there was no way that he was going to let his brother know he was actually considering the suggestions of modern learning (he had his pride, after all), so he quickly distracted him, changing the subject abruptly, “Weren’t you going to go acquire snacks from one of those machines in the lobby?”

 

Acronix’s posture drooped from its confident stance when he realized that his brother was just trying to get him to drop his argument. He was going to protest and push his point harder, but noticed that his older brother was flickering his gaze to the tablet that sat on the table. He suppressed a grin, knowing that Krux probably was thinking about what he had said, he just didn’t want to admit it! Well, fine. Acronix could play along if that was the way he wanted to be. 

“That’s right! I completely forgot to get those,” he exclaimed, putting a surprised hand to his forehead (doing a very convincing job of looking distracted, at least he thought so). Turning around, and conspicuously leaving the tablet laying on the table, he pointed to Krux and said in parting, “Think about what I said!” as he ran back out of the lair. 

 

With his twin gone, Krux sighed to the empty room, and giving the piece of tech a wary glare, picked it up and looked through the research his twin had done. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Acronix, but he had always had a tendency towards confirmation bias. Even all those years ago, he would usually only consider the information that supported his cause and ignore everything else. Krux was sure that tendency would only be worsened by the foulness of the internet. 

 

Fumbling with the screen momentarily as he struggled with how to work it, he soon figured it out enough to scroll through the articles that his brother had displayed, reading through them all with a scientific critique. The more he read, looking at the studies, symptoms, and first person descriptions, the more the more the realization hit him like a punch in the gut -- but in the best of ways. It really was the truth, he realized as he read through the very apt results of a test Acronix had clearly taken on his behalf, and then the scientific argument behind them. He doubted and hated modern science, but he was no fool. Acronix was actually right . (And, even if he wasn’t, and this was truly just a modern farce, Krux desperately wanted it to be true.) 

 

He felt a surge of self-assurance and confidence that he hadn’t felt in years (in forty long years). He wasn’t a failure. It was this autism’s fault, not his own weakness. Knowing that his constant struggles were from something no one -- not even a Master of Time -- could control took a life-time weight off of his chest. For the first time, he actually felt right in the world. 

 

“At least modern science is finally good for something,” Krux remarked to the empty room, setting the borgpad back down onto the tabletop. 

 

In the middle of his epiphany, Acronix wandered back into the lair, eating handfuls out of a bag of something highly-processed and likely artificial-cheese flavored. Krux picked his screwdriver back in hand, pointedly not looking at the device he had just put down. Acronix may have been right but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that new science actually had its merits. 

 

Acronix’s eyes flicked knowingly between the tablet and his brother all the same, even as he sucked the cheesy chip-powder off of his fingers. 

 

“Must you do that, brother? Grab a napkin or something,” complained his brother completely normally, acting like the conversation had never happened. 

 

The complaint did nothing to stop Acronix, who just stuck another finger in his mouth and shrugged. 

 

Krux hissed in disgust, and shook his head remarking, “You shouldn’t eat those artificial ingredient laden monstrosities,anyway.” 

 

The younger twin rolled his eyes, willfully ignoring his brother. “So, did you think about anything I said?” 

 

“I might have,” came Krux’s noncommittal answer, setting the screwdriver down and crossing his arms once again on the tabletop. 

 

“Brother,” exasperated the younger twin. 

 

Starting to nibble on his fingernails, Krux thought about what he had learned and looked between the internet that had held so many answers, and his brother who had gone to the trouble of finding them all. The brother who had always assured him he wasn’t strange, no matter how many others may have thought so, and who now gave him the proof that it wasn’t his own failure. The knowing of the existence of the thing was a relief in and of itself, but there were still so many questions he had always had. The answers were apparently there for him to learn, but he just couldn’t look for them himself. 

 

Looking away from his brother, he snapped, “I’ve thought about it!” Biting at his thumb, still not looking at his twin, he cautiously admitted, each word delivered halted and harsh, “The basic description… does sound fairly accurate to my experiences. I still think this could be an invention by modern learning, but...we could look into more deeply. Just to be certain, I suppose,” he slowly conceded. 

 

Acronix beamed, knowing that was basically his brother’s version of asking for help (which had somehow gotten even ruder and gruffer, but he still knew his twin). “Of course, brother. We’ll find out more about this -- and about you -- together.”

 

“Hmf,” huffed Krux in agreement. “Well when we have the time anyway. We do have a plan to work on,” he reminded him, gesturing at the glass containers of snakes scattered throughout the lab. 

 

The younger twin laughed, remarking, “Of course. We still owe that stuffy Elemental Alliance some payback!” 

 

Krux laughed as well. The idea of revenge had always sounded good, but now that he knew all of his more unlikable actions weren’t even his fault, he felt even more vindicated at striking back at the Elemental Masters. 

 

And when the Hands of Time worked together, no one and nothing would stand in their way. Not even autism. 

Notes:

Krruuuuxx that wasn’t exactly supposed to be the take-away, here, bud. XD

 

Anyway, there it is! Not perfect, but I do like it. I loved writing all of these, honestly, because these headcanons just feel so right for these two!

Might end up writing more of these kind of stories, but, for now, I hope you enjoyed this fic. Kudos,comments, and etc are always loved. Thanks for reading along to my descent into madness!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Neurodivergent Time Twins Fics