Chapter Text
It was a totally normal day all things considered, which was milquetoast at the very best. He woke up damp with sweat and smelled worse than usual, which okay, he can live with it. His hot coffee was nauseatingly bitter and cooled significantly from the pay counter and 5 steps out the door. Really, he would rather be holed up inside his apartment for the rest of his life.
Colt disagreed, insisting that he shouldn’t waste the rest of his life moping. Ryland thinks that’s a little over dramatic. So what, if he wants to cry and lay in bed all day, so what? He’s a grown man. He is living off of his own savings and Colt’s dime so he does force himself out so his brother doesn't worry himself a wart.
Whatever, forced gap-year be damned. He does enjoy himself often enough to declare that this vacation, sabbatical nonsense was needed. Ryland does miss hearing the Dr. in front of his name, does ache for the challenge, itches to be what he was.
He wipes a sweat off his brow, no need to think about that anymore. It is done and over.
It was a normal day, a little below average but that’s what he aims for. So it is a little heartbreaking when a bright pink blob races towards him with no plan to miss their target, Doctor Ryland Grace.
He squeezed his coffee cup in his hands, took a quick scan of any savior willing to risk themselves for him, and when the coast was filled with bystanders waiting for the impact, he shut his eyes and braced.
The man didn’t say anything other than a loud and scared Wahhh! The sound of the roller blades breaking hard and rough on the cement following.
For a second, Ryland thought he was safe and opened his eyes.
A nicely toned man, skin even and tanned, perfect in a way he has never seen before. A huge hulking man flew towards him. He dropped his coffee and got into a clumsy excuse of a catching pose, but alas Ryland had stopped working out for a few weeks and this man was perhaps 200 tons of muscle and accessories.
They crashed onto the hard concrete, a hand behind his head the only thing stopping himself from cracking his head open. Other than that, he was pretty sure his chest was caved in and he was in a flat Stanley situation now. Crushed and completely humiliated, he kept his eyes closed to spare the spectacle that he became.
The man on top of him whined out a pathetic, “Owwwie, ow ow ow owieee.” As he slowly lifted himself to lean right over Ryland, sniffling and his whines becoming wet and sad. “I’m sorry man, that really hurt. Are you okay? I’m not, just so we’re clear.”
Ryland opened his eyes and promptly shut them again. This position was too intimate, embarrassing, he nodded his head so this beast would get off. “I’m not bleeding or dead, so yes. Please, get off of me,” he pleaded.
The man easily sat back and onto his legs. Great now his legs were flattened even more.
“Are you a scientist? That’s crazy, I never thought I’d meet a real one,” he hit his head, “I didn’t mean that. Scientist Barbie is a real scientist, I’m horrible. Barbie would hate me.” He put his head into his hands, real tears coming out.
He sat up also, ignoring the stares for just a second to look at the real spectacle happening on his lap. “Wha-? How did you know that? I am, what, Barbie?” he tried to question but the other man was having a genuine fit.
Grace put a hesitant hand on the hysterical man's shoulder, ready to pull it back in case he goes for a chomp. “There, there..” What is he saying!? “What’s your name?” as a messy attempt to distract. He cannot do this today, he barely even wanted to do today as it is.
“K-Ken..” he wiped at the steady stream of tears, “and I really needed to see you. I’ve been seeing you.” He doesn’t explain but puts a warm palm on top of Ryland’s comfort hand. His sudden fit seemed to leave just as quickly as it left, only the red around his eyes and nose were telling signs of crying. “I’ve been searching for you, compadre…”
Ken guided a slow hand behind Ryland’s head and then pulled their foreheads against each other in what usually would be a little intimate, but with Ken it felt on the cusp of edging friendship and understanding. Grace abhorred the feeling because for one; he did not want to be friends with Ken, and two; he didn’t understand anything about this entire situation.
Ryland pulled his head back and took a hard look at the strikingly blonde man in front of him. Ken smiled bright, all his bright white teeth showing, matching his bright blue eyes, and bright, neon clothes. Lord was this man bright. Definitely not brilliant by any means, but like a massive, suffocating firework.
He looked like he was supposed to match someone, no man wore neon pink and yellows without matching with another person usually. Typically. Ken didn’t seem like a usual, typical man though. Ken was all sunshine and took up the entire world's space.
Also, achingly familiar. Ryland’s heart squeezed because this man looked exactly like Colt. He looked exactly, “..Like me. You look like me.”
Ken tilted his head, looked him up and down, and his lip turned up a bit. “Oh.. you sure?”
“Yes, look at us.”
“If you say so,” Ken took in a hiss of air through his teeth like it hurt for him to say.
“I know so, what’s so wrong about that, huh?” Ryland gave himself a once over. Sure, he has had much better days, but he didn’t look bad by any means. He looked worn and had wet splotches from the coffee splash.
He wrinkled his nose up, “You need a change. This is not it at alllll.”
Ryland had about enough of this nonsense, “I need to change? Look at you! -And get the hell off me!” He took a deep breath and a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry please, could you please get off me.”
With shattered legs and a stiff back now released, ignoring the hand ready to assist him, he got up with a groan. Brushing the dust off of him he raised his head to look Ken in the eye, “Who are you? Why were you looking for me?”
Because maybe this is some sick joke pulled on him by his past peers. Some sick and crazy stunt pulled by the man who he insulted in front of respected colleagues. What if this could be ignored?
His luck didn’t go further than finding the occasional heads up penny so he should’ve known to walk away while he had the chance.
Ken didn’t seem to be perturbed by the cold behavior, didn’t even notice it really. He got on his right, swung his arm over Ryland's shoulders, and started commanding a walk towards the beach. “I see you in my head sometimes, like little things here and there. I was at Find Your Inner Ken yoga that Barbie holds for us sometimes and I must’ve gotten too into the Ken zen cuz’ I saw you!”
Ryland tried to stop their stride, “Wait- Ken, what are you even talking about!? Are you having an episode? Do I need to call the police?” He wishes Colt was here, should he call the police or Colt?
He ignored Ryland, “I tried calling Barbie, but she stopped answering my calls after the 273rd time and said to be my own Ken..” whatever that means, “and now I won’t be able to ever see her again. She lives here, got a vagina or something like that, and she never wants to see me again all because of me” Ken’s waterworks started to pick up again, “Oh Barbie.. My baby doll sunshine…”
“So how did you find me?”
“I remember, when we first came, Barbie sat on a bench to find out who was making her think of death and cellulite. I don’t remember enough because I went through a whole thing where I stopped listening to her when I discovered horses and the patriarchy,” he waved a droopy hand around, “all because I wanted her to be my long-term, long-distance, short-term, casual girlfriend.. Ryland.. My heart aches for her! How could I-”
Ryland now gets in front of him with wide eyes, “How do you know my name?”
“I sat on a bench.”
Ryland was seconds away from wringing out Ken.
“But.. I saw you. After seeing you, I kinda think whatever has been happening to me is because of you.”
“Because of me?” He didn't like the accusation. No matter what it was, he was at fault for many things in life, but it was usually his own misdoings. He knew when he was in the wrong, he knew when he went too far, or when he said too much. Ryland knows what it is like to be at fault for these things. What does Ken know about blame responsibility, what does Ken know about being on the other side of his spit.
“I never think about science or math, it was scary seeing all those numbers and lines..” Ken got a little quieter, contemplating his next words. Ryland saw a shaking dog, afraid of the sky popping and lighting up, of the unknown. “I’ve been.. aggressive, angry towards the Ken’s and Barbie’s. I would never yell at a Barbie again, Barbie wouldn’t like that, but I shouted at a Barbie during yoga for no reason yesterday. I was so mad, but when it was over I cried and my chest hurt so bad.”
Ken didn’t loudly cry like he’s been doing, but the look on his face was pitiful. The sight was painfully familiar. “There is something wrong with me.”
Ryland took the glasses off his face and fidgeted with them. This was dumb, beyond stupid, useless, and dramatic.
“Your name is Ken..?” waiting for a last name.
With hopeful eyes he grinned like Ryland hung the stars, “Just Ken!”
He really didn’t know what to do now. With both Ken and himself. They had only made it a little ways from the original crash spot, he was still wet, and even though there was a new rotation of people who didn’t see anything, Ken was still a massive sight for sore eyes to the general public.
He should call Colt.
“Can you give me a second? I should make a call.”
“For sure, to the Supreme Court or something?”
“I- Sure, whatever, just don’t go far from me,” he said, spinning around to put some distance between them. Behind him a long whine started up but Ryland didn’t get much of what was said.
The phone didn’t take long to pick up before a crackly voice greeted, “Ry-Ry! What’s up?” The call would cut in and out the background noise from a function that Ryland had interrupted, whoops. His heart squeezed for calling so soon before even trying to navigate the entire Ken thing by himself, Colt had his own life that didn’t need Ryland in it anymore.
“Don’t call me that, it’s Dr. Ry-Ry Grace.”
Colt’s voice got clearer, “Doctor then, what can I help you with?”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?” he asked.
“No,” Colt softened his tone the slightest bit, “Never, always call. Always.”
Ryland didn’t have a response, but the assurance lightened the weight. His ego took a horrible nose dive after the entire shabackle named ‘An Analysis of Water Based Assumptions and Recalibrations of Expectations for Evolutionary Models’ hit his pentagon. Of course, it's all his fault. But it was nice to have his brother.
“I have a little, tweeny, wincy, tiny problem…”
“With who? What happened?”
He peaked around his shoulder to look at Ken who was chatting with a stranger, pointing in his direction as if Ryland was his handler. “Just Ken? Sorry, but are we the only ones? We didn’t come out as triplets or anything?”
Colts rusty gears started to turn over the phone, “Well.. I’m not sure but confident. Why?”
“Ken looks, genuinely, exactly like us! It’s unreal.. I’ll send a picture and then tell you the rest- Ken!”
Ken instantly bounced over waving at his very exasperated friend/stranger, “At your service!”
Ryland sighed, “Can you sit still so I can get your picture? It’s for my brother-” and Ken was on the move.
He struck a pose, sunglasses—that weren't there before?—fell down perfectly, his fists balled into a fake gun. “Okay,” he flexed, “I’m ready.”
Silence took over the city of San Francisco, letting Ken hold most of the empty space. Bright, flashy colored clothes with the personality, presence, and aura of a class clown multiplied by three thousand. People giggled and took long looks at Ken as they passed, he didn’t budge. He actually seemed pleased with the attention.
Ryland, not so much.
“What is he doing? Ry?” Colt knocked him out of his stupor.
“Posing for the picture obviously,” he plucked the sunglasses off. Before Ken could cause a riot he spoke, “They cover up your.. beautiful… eyes, say cheese.”
No cheese was said else Ken’s facial pose would have been altered and what a crime that would be.
“Was they totally sick, awesome, or what?”
“Or what,” Ryland put the phone to his ear again, “Did you get it?”
Colt was possibly shocked dead until he rushed out, “What the hell is he wearin’? He’s so blonde- Ry, what the hell? Is this a joke?” His brother continued half asked questions, half shouting out curses.
“Ken said,” he inhaled, “he comes from Barbieland, that he has been having bizarre visions of me, and that he needs my help.”
“Ryland.”
“And I think he might need my help, from me or anyone. I don't know, I’m out of my element here..”
Ken pretended like he didn’t hear anything, or it all went in through one ear out the other because he was whistling, skating in a circle. All innocent. Ugh.
“Sooo,” he knew Colt was worrying his brow, “filming doesn’t wrap up until a few more days, after that I’ll come visit you, bring Jody too. Just please be safe, keep me updated, talk with him, and.. yeah. I know you want to help, but don’t help a lost cause. I’ll dig around online and through records, but I really do think it was just us and, ya’know who.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then Col’.”
“Hey,” Colt stopped him from cutting the call, “You’ll be what?”
Ryland groaned, “I’ll be safe and I’ll see you soon. Good. Bye.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too, Colt.”
And he cut the call before Ryland could even finish.
He rubbed at his phone for a second before looking towards Ken with a friendly smile, “You wanna get something to eat?”
Ken, messing around in the sand with his foot, looked up with a new sparkle in his eye, “Yes!”
Just from that, Ryland already knew he would regret this.