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On an almost hidden block of a perfectly normal London street stands a small antiques shop called Trinkets & Tragedies. There are rumors about the little shop that never seems to close; mostly because people that go in generally don’t come out quite the same. The shop is almost always open all hours of the day, apart from random week-long intervals where it has the same ‘Closed for Repairs’ sign up on the door.
Karl Jacobs, the owner, made the sign himself. He runs the shop by himself, and he procures the items he sells by himself. All of it is in hopes that, one day, he’ll hit a time period where all of them are together again.
There’s a display in the front of the shop with several items in it, all of them labelled as not for sale. There’s a back room that contains a pair of goggles and a purple and green sweatshirt. Occasionally, Karl puts the sweatshirt and the goggles on, and then he travels through time.
It’s through his time travel that he collects most of his items and brings them back to his present day. He knows there has to be a time period on this thread of reality where they’re all together; he just hasn’t found it yet.
But he knows, deep down, that it’s this one. He just has to wait for them to come to him. He’s done everything he can, by bringing each of their items together in one place; they’ll flock to him, now. That’s how it’s supposed to happen. That’s how it’s meant to be.
The front display case contains the following items, all carefully collected by Karl himself, most of them taken off the dead bodies of the past and future reincarnations of his friends. There’s a white bandana that came from the American Revolution; a pair of goggles from the late Industrial Revolution; a large mask from the Renaissance period; and a beanie from the early 60’s. Scattered around the shop are two music discs, one guitar, a multitude of weapons, two crowns, a striped bucket hat, a pair of sunglasses, and more.
He doesn’t know what will happen when they find him, if they’ll remember him, if they’ll know that he’s switched dimensions to search for them here. He couldn’t save them in the SMP; the Universe gave him another chance. He is Karl Jacobs, the time-traveller, the dimension-hopper, and someday his friends will find him, and they probably won’t remember him.
Oh, how wrong he is.
Generally, when customers arrive, Karl hides behind the register. He doesn’t really like talking to people- he’s done too much of it in every generation, and sometimes words slip in that he doesn’t mean to, slang that makes him seem odd. Not that people don’t already think he’s odd- he’s seen the way his neighbors peer at him through their windows.
Today is no different. The woman that runs the bakery down the street peers in the window, her wife tugging her along. Today, however, she comes inside, and the moment the bell rings, something feels right.
“Hello?” a familiar voice calls out, and this woman doesn’t look like the Niki Nihachu he knew, not in other dimensions or other time periods, but she sounds like her.
“Come in!” Karl calls, his heart in his throat. She smiles politely at him, her wife trying to tug her outside, but she persists. He tracks their movements throughout the store and watches as possibly-Niki comes to rest near a row of ancient swords.
Slowly, he approaches. Her wife is still holding her hand, but she’s staring at a large hat with a feather sticking out of it.
“Can I help you?” he asks softly, trying not to startle her. She jumps anyways, as if pulled out of a trance. Her fingers are hovering over an ornate blade.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know I’m probably not supposed to touch, it just feels so…”
“Familiar,” her wife answers, staring at the hat, and that is undoubtedly the voice of Puffy. Karl swallows harshly and forces a smile onto his face.
“It’s alright,” he says. “You can touch it. Try out the weight. And you can try on the hat, too.”
Possibly-Niki smiles at him and reaches out for the blade again. At the same time, Possibly-Puffy sets the hat gently on her head.
It’s like time stops, and Karl knows what time stopping feels like. For a moment, the rest of the world falls away, and it is just the three of them in Karl’s little shop, Niki holding the blade in her hand and Puffy placing the hat on her head, and then time starts again.
“Holy shit,” Niki chokes out. “I- Puffy?”
“Yeah?” Puffy replies, turning back. “Oh my god, Karl!”
“Hi,” Karl says, and Niki spins on her heel, takes a moment to process, and then throws herself into his arms with a squeal.
“Karl!” she shrieks, and oh, yes, the Universe loves them, the Universe is kind, the Universe will not see them end. “You’ve been down the street this whole time, and you never visited?”
“To be fair, I didn’t know it was you,” he admits as Niki pulls back. Puffy places a hand on her shoulder, beaming; she looks completely at home with the hat on her head. “I’m surprised that you found each other before remembering.”
“Of course we found each other,” Puffy snorts. “We’ll always find each other. Even across- have we switched dimensions now, too?”
“Yeah,” Karl admits. Of course they’ve found each other, he thinks, but he hasn’t found Sapnap yet- if Niki and Puffy get to be together, why can’t they? He tells himself it doesn’t matter, he’ll find Sapnap eventually, and turns back to his friends. “You guys- you guys are a different Niki and Puffy, I think, just with the memories of the others. But I’m the same Karl.”
“Holy shit,” Puffy says again. “And if I take the hat off- will I forget?”
“I don’t know,” Karl shrugs. “You’re the first ones to have found me in this time period.”
“Oh,” Niki says, realization dawning across her features. “So you’ve been alone this whole time?”
Karl nods, suddenly choked up, and Niki reaches out to squeeze his arm. She keeps her hand there as Puffy slips off the hat and sets it down.
“I remember,” she says a moment later. “But- can I keep the hat?”
Karl lets out a watery laugh. “Of course you can.”
She does, and Karl sees her wearing it almost every day when he goes inside their bakery for lunch. The food tastes exactly like he remembers it from a different world. It tastes like home.
He thinks Niki and Puffy will be the catalyst for the others, but it’s almost a year before anything else happens. In that time, they’re able to deduce that yes, while Karl is the same Karl as the one who existed in the SMP, Niki and Puffy are not the same Niki and Puffy from the SMP. Touching their items, however, allows them access to the memories of the others, ones from past lives here and across other dimensions.
“I can’t believe you’re a time traveller and a dimension hopper,” Puffy says teasingly. “The Universe must really love you.”
It’s nice having someone that remembers the same places and people and events that he does. On what would be the anniversary of L’Manberg’s final explosion, they plan on having a party. Niki promises to bring a cake to the small flat Karl lives in above the antiques shop. Karl spends the whole day thinking about everything that’s passed, in this lifetime and a hundred others.
It must be fate, then, that the boy who stumbles into his shop happens to do so on that day. He looks like he’s running from something. Karl gets the feeling.
“Hey, kid,” he says, and the kid dives back behind one of the rows of shelves. Okay, then. Karl watches out the window as a group of larger boys rushes past moments later.
“Sorry,” the kid says, poking his head out, and holy fuck, Karl knows that voice, that’s Tommy’s voice, and Karl’s words die in his throat. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of stuff in here, I’ve never been in here before-”
The kid stops at a display of a jukebox. Hanging on the wall next to it are two discs, labelled Cat and Mellohi in Karl’s best handwriting. Possibly-maybe-definitely-Tommy is staring at them. He reaches one hand up toward them. Karl doesn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt, but the kid startles and turns around anyways.
“Sorry,” he says. “Antiques. No touching. They just look-”
“Familiar?” Karl asks. “Go ahead. You can play them if you want.”
The kid smiles at him and reaches up, debating. He settles on Mellohi and Karl holds his breath- nothing happens when probably-Tommy slides the disc into the jukebox, but the second the opening notes begin to ring out, he stiffens.
“Recognize the song?” Karl asks, a smile beginning to spread across his face, and Tommy turns around with a wide grin.
“Holy fuck,” he says. “Karl, big man! What the hell-”
Tommy stops for approximately ten seconds (Karl counts, they feel impossibly long), the smile dropping off his face.
“Niki runs the bakery down the street, doesn’t she?” he asks, and Karl nods. “Does she know?”
“She does.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Puffy. You’re the third. Fourth, including me.”
Tommy’s face breaks into a grin again. “I think I’m going to be able to get you three more.”
With that, he runs out of the shop. Karl stands still for a moment before he follows, running straight for Niki and Puffy.
“We’re gonna need more food at tonight’s party,” he says breathlessly after he bursts into the bakery. “Tommy’s here.”
An hour later finds Karl back at the shop and Tommy dragging three people in behind him.
“Why are we here, Tommy?” an older voice demands, and Karl recognizes Philza.
“Because!” Tommy’s voice says insistently. “It’s really cool, just- look around! Please? For me?”
“Only for you, gremlin child,” Wilbur’s voice drawls. Karl watches as the man who didn’t speak instantly goes to an ornate crown, one that belonged to Technoblade.
Holy shit, of course the four of them ended up together, in this life and in every other. The Universe is kind, indeed. Not kind enough to give him Sapnap, to give him the other feral boys, but- at least it’s been kind to everyone else. That’s the most he can hope for, he thinks. Tommy looks at Karl with a shit-eating grin.
“Feel free to touch anything,” Karl calls, his voice echoing around the small shop. Technoblade glances back with a look on his face that Karl can’t quite place before reaching out for the crown. Karl sees him set it on his head carefully, and something dark flashes across his eyes.
“Tommy, you little shit,” he growls out. “I can’t believe you.”
“Boys,” Phil’s voice says warningly, and then there’s a gasp.
“Dad?” Wilbur asks. “You okay?”
“Wil- where’d you get that guitar?”
“Karl,” Technoblade says, low, warningly. “You have some explaining to do.”
“I will,” Karl promises, trying to fight off a smile. He’s also a little bit afraid, but he can’t let Techno know that. “At dinner. Niki and Puffy are coming over to celebrate the anniversary.”
“Anniversary of what?” Wilbur asks, poking his head around one of the shelves. “Techno, do you know this guy?”
Wilbur’s clutching a guitar. Techno’s gaze locks in on his.
“Wilbur,” he says. “Play the guitar.”
Wilbur gives Techno a confused look, but he strums the guitar. Karl can see the moment the recognition passes across his face.
“Holy fuck,” he chokes out. “Phil-”
“Yeah,” Phil says, approaching them quickly. He’s got on the green-striped bucket hat, and he’s grinning. “Can’t believe I don’t get wings in this life. Karl- what the hell’s going on?”
Karl explains everything as best as he can. Tommy seems enraptured- the other three seem unimpressed. But they seem happy to remember knowing each other across all their different lifetimes, so Karl considers that a win.
Niki enters the shop with Puffy and a cake in tow, and she doesn’t seem to recognize any of them, at least, until Wilbur opens his mouth. Then she’s shoving the cake in Puffy’s grip and diving into Wilbur’s arms.
Karl’s soul feels nothing but joy and a little bit of longing. He wants to be able to do that, he wants his platonic soulmates and his romantic one here and real and tangible and not just a memory in his mind-
Soon, he tells himself. Soon.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait a year before the next person comes around. Tommy takes to hanging around in his shop every day after school, to the point where Karl (almost) just offers him a job. But shockingly enough, Karl doesn’t actually make that much money, and the only reason he’s still able to rent the place out is the fact that he was accidentally part of a gold heist in the ‘Wild West’ during one of his time-travelling trips. He’s still got some leftover cash from selling the several large bars of gold from that one.
The reason Tommy hangs around so much is because he thinks Karl will be able to identify Tubbo and Ranboo by sight. Karl explains to him multiple times that it doesn’t work like that, but Tommy finds every social media presence of every kid in their area whose name is remotely similar to Tubbo’s, and they come up with nothing. Tommy doesn’t stop trying, though, and after about a month, his efforts prove worthwhile.
“Hello?” a soft voice calls out, and Jesus, Karl thinks, that’s gotta be Tubbo. “Sorry, are you open?”
“We’re open!” Karl calls. “Come on in!”
A boy wanders his way toward the register and offers Karl a shy smile. “Sorry, I just- I’m supposed to be meeting one of my online friends here. Do you know anyone named Tommy?”
“I do,” Karl says, playing along with whatever bit Tommy’s got going. “He’s a regular, he should be here soon. Feel free to look around.”
Probably-Tubbo smiles at him and turns to browse through the shelves. Quietly, Karl peers after him, watching as he comes to rest near a large display of swords. His hand finds one that he carefully picks out and tests in his grip.
“You like that one?” Karl asks, and Tubbo nods. Then he startles and glances up, falling reflexively into a defensive position.
“Karl!” he cries. “Holy shit!”
Karl laughs, and the bell rings only seconds later.
“Did he do it?” Tommy’s voice demands.
“Tommy!” Tubbo practically screams, and a moment later there’s a blur of color shooting past Karl in the direction of the door. The sword clatters to the floor and Karl turns around to see the two embracing. “How long have you known?”
“Only a month,” Tommy promises. “I’ve been trying to find you since then, little did I know it was my online best friend.” He grins at Karl over Tubbo’s shoulder, and Karl offers him a thumbs-up in return.
Slowly, over the next few months, more of them begin finding their way to his shop. Skeppy picks out a diamond ring, then hours later returns with his fiance and shoves him toward a large red and black jacket. Bad nearly hits Karl when he realizes. Eret wanders in one day and Niki introduces them as her new best friend, then guides them toward the sunglasses that have been sitting on a shelf alone for what feels like eons.
A teenage boy wanders in with Tommy and Tubbo, and they all-but shove a crown onto his head until Ranboo is looking around in wonder. Wilbur drags an annoyed-looking redhead toward a black cap, and suddenly there’s a father-and-son reunion in Karl’s shop between Fundy and Wilbur. More of them still wander in and pick up swords, axes, weapons of every kind, and they remember. Each time, Karl texts their ever-growing group chat to let them know that someone else has remembered. And still, none of the people Karl wants to see the most enter his shop.
The day comes that they’re the last four. Quackity, Dream, George, and Sapnap are the last four to be found, the last four to come home.
And Karl- Karl feels so alone. He’s surrounded by people that love him, and he still feels so alone. All he wants is them here, he wants to meet them again, because he’s seen them in a hundred different lifetimes but they haven’t known him in a single one. He wants to laugh with Quackity and George and Dream and he wants to hold Sapnap in his arms, damnit, that’s all he wants and that’s all he’s ever wanted.
The Universe loves him. The Universe is kind. The day comes that a couple comes wandering into his shop. He smiles at them kindly, figuring that they’re just browsing, as couples do. But the shorter of the two tugs the other over to the counter.
“Sorry, do I know you?” the taller asks as the shorter examines the items in the display case. And that’s Dream’s voice, he’d recognize Dream’s voice anywhere, and the shorter points to the smiley-faced mask and tugs on his partner’s arm.
“This looks familiar,” George’s voice says. He looks up at Karl. “May I have a closer look at that?”
Of course, Karl thinks, George feels a stronger connection to Dream’s mask. Of course Dream is staring at George’s goggles. Karl pulls both items out of the display case carefully.
“Are we allowed to touch them?” Dream asks, his voice hushed. Karl nods, and Dream wordlessly picks up the goggles.
“Where did you get these?” he asks. “They look so… familiar.”
“They were a friend’s,” Karl says, swallowing harshly. “I got them from a friend. All the items in the display case, actually-”
“The mask looks like it would fit you perfectly,” George murmurs, picking it up and slipping it over Dream’s face. Dream freezes the second the porcelain touches his skin, but George doesn’t seem to notice. He takes the goggles out of Dream’s hands and slips them over his own eyes.
“It fits me perfectly,” Dream breathes out. “George-”
“Dream-”
Karl takes a step back, feeling like he’s interrupting a moment. Before anything further happens, George is suddenly scrambling over the counter.
“Whoa-” Karl starts, and George practically tackles him into a hug. He grins and wraps his arms around George in return as Dream vaults himself over to wrap both of them in his arms.
“Holy shit,” Dream chokes out. “ Karl -”
“Hey, guys,” Karl says, and he’s trying not to cry, he’s trying so hard not to cry.
He doesn’t cry.
A man wanders in on his own a few days later. Dream and George are both upstairs in the flat with Bad and Skeppy, and their raucous laughter is carried down the stairs. The man meanders toward the display case, looking into his carefully.
“May I see that beanie?” he asks in Quackity’s voice. “It looks familiar.”
“It would,” Karl replies. The man that is undoubtedly Quackity gives him a confused look as he takes off the hat currently on his head and slips on the beanie. Karl’s made his way around the counter, and he grins as Quackity turns to him with a beam.
“You remember?” he asks.
“I do,” Quackity chokes out. He tosses his other hat aside and practically jumps on top of Karl. Then he goes pounding up the stairs, and Karl can hear the screams of excitement from the others as he makes himself known. He bites back his tears. He doesn’t cry.
The moment that Sapnap shows up is the moment he lets himself cry. Sapnap doesn’t even need to speak for Karl to recognize him, Karl would recognize him anywhere. It’s been two days since Quackity showed up, and he, Dream, and George haven’t left Karl’s flat since. It feels like destiny that Sapnap is here now.
“Hello,” Karl says, desperately trying to keep his voice from breaking. “Can I help you?”
“Just looking,” Sapnap replies. “I’ve wandered past here every day all week, I keep feeling like I have to come inside.”
“Well, have a look around, let me know if you see anything you like,” Karl says, his forced smile feeling harsh on his face. Sapnap nods, and his eye catches on the display case.
“Why’s there a bandana in there all alone?” he asks curiously.
“There were more items, but they found their way home,” Karl responds. “You can look at it, if you’d like.”
Sapnap nods, and Karl carefully pulls it out of the case. Sapnap’s hands wander over the fabric, and slowly, he ties it around his head.
Karl can literally see something flashing across his eyes, terror, panic, and then- joy. Wonder.
“Karl?” he asks, and Karl grins and nods, unable to speak. They lunge at each other over the display case at the same time, and Karl buries his head in the crook of Sapnap’s neck. He smells the same. He smells like home.
“Hi,” Karl chokes out, tears hot in his eyes. “It’s been a long time.”
He explains everything while he’s still wrapped in Sapnap’s arms. Sapnap just holds him tighter, and tighter, and tighter.
“I missed you even when I didn’t know I was missing you,” he breathes out when Karl is finished.
The Universe loves him. The Universe is kind. The Universe has let his family come home.