#{ I am so sorry this is late . One my aqua has been asleep and two i started a new job and I have few days off now !

[bisexualsforprompto]

Worth Chapter 3

(*DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER USES VULGAR LANAGUE AS LILA IS A COMPLETE BITCH IN IT, I HATE HER AND SHE’S STUPID AND UGLY, WOW THIS DISCLAIMER TURNED INTO A RANT ABOUT HOW MUCH I HATE LILA)

Also yay! We finally are given the baddie of the plot, though it’s up to you to figure out who it is. Since I don’t want you to know who it is I’ll be referring to he/she as “you” (that’s a little trick I learned from Jennifer Lynn Barnes, my favorite author).

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Dark hair, blue eyes, and French. That was your MO. The skin tone didn’t matter, which is what had the GCPD so mixed up and frazzled. You laughed to yourself as you poured a glass of Chardonnay. There’d been a lull in your girls, mostly the French part. Last time was so...unsatisfactory. She was only a quarter French and she didn’t scream like the others. You disposed of her quickly, and even though she wasn’t what you had hoped you still took a lock of her hair and added it to your collection. You were missing the adrenaline, but you told yourself to be patient, a French class was coming soon. There’d definitely be someone there, maybe even international news. The justice league would probably thank you personally when they found out who the person behind the mask was who rid the world of its scum. You smiled to yourself, ‘I’d be famous worldwide and another French bitch would be out of the world for good.’

Kay wasn’t an early riser, neither was Marinette. That could only end disastrously, luckily, a certain Wayne family decided to call their friend’s daughter for a wake up call. Purely so she wouldn’t be late to their tour, although they did enjoy talking to her. Steph and Kay were very close friends, the closest out of the rest of the family, though Dick did enjoy Kay’s positive personality. Steph was extremely aggravated when she learned Kay was coming to Gotham because she was with Barbara and Cass for a girl’s week. Kay promised to make it up to her though.

So when Kay’s phone went off blasting “Candy Store” she immediately knew that the Wayne family was calling to wake her up. She smiled to herself as she turned off the alarm, it was nice to have people care.

“Oof what time is it?” Kay asked. “We woke you about an hour before you have to leave for the tour.” Said Dick. “Dope, thanks Dick! See ya soon!”

To be honest, Kay was afraid that she would sleep and nobody would wake her up, causing her and Marinette to miss the tour. She dug in her suitcase until she found her favorite shirt, it was the same color as her aqua blue eyes and it read, “Theatre is my sport” (side note I also own this shirt). She laughed at her friend who was still fast asleep, “Mari.” She said walking over to her friend and poking her.

Nothing.

“Mariiiii.” Kay said louder. “Marinette, Marinette, Marinette, MARINETTE!!!”

Still nothing.

“God I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this especially so early in the morning…” Kay cleared her throat and leaned down to Marinette’s ear, channeling her inner Christine Daaé she sang the highest note she could hit.

Marinette shot up, rubbing her pounding head. “The hell? Why do I have a ringing in my ears?” Kay shuffled away with a guilty smile, “I mean- somebody may have sang an E6 in your ear, but in all fairness you weren’t waking up!” Marinette groaned and shook her head. “Thanks for waking me up, even though the means weren’t…what I was expecting. I thought I was going to miss the Wayne Enterprises tour for sure.” Kay giggled, “Honestly me too. Sounds like some shit Lila would try to pull. I wouldn’t worry too much though, Dick would never let us miss the tour.” Kay winked as she walked into the hotel room’s bathroom.

“Dick? Wait isn’t that the American word for-“

“Yeah but it’s also a name. Short for Richard. Bruce Wayne, the Wayne Enterprises guy is his father. Well Bruce adopted him technically. The Waynes are the family my mom and I know from Gotham, Damian, the guy I’m totally setting you up with, is the youngest family member.” Kay exclaimed, the bathroom walls were thin but it was still slightly muffled. “Right that random guy you were shipping me with.” Marinette laughed. “You got it!

“I’m excited for you to meet them, I bet you’ll love the whole family and vice versa. Damian should be coming with Dick on the tour, Tim, one of the other brothers, is working there, so we probably won’t see him. The girls are away and Jason is probably- well Jason’s probably still sleeping.” Kay laughed as she walked out of the bathroom in her favorite shirt, baggy jeans, and dark brown hair in long curls.

“What about Bruce Wayne? Oh my god is he coming?! If he is I have to choose a whole new outfit! AHHH NOTHING I HAVE WOULD WORK!!” Marinette panicked as she tossed her clothes across the floor. “Relax Mari! Bruce won’t care if you’re dressed up or anything. We might not even see him!” Marinette slumped, “I still need to dress up a little though.” Kay giggled, “Ok sure. Whatever you say.”

Marinette ended up going with a red sundress and she wore Kaaliki’s glasses she was given from Master Fu, in case Ladybug needed to be in Paris. They transformed into black plastic glasses with a thin rim.

“Cool shades Mari, since when do you wear glasses though?” Asked Kay popping a piece of waffle into her mouth. “Oh these just accent the piece.” Kay laughed, “You’re such a fashion geek.” Marinette threw one of her blouses on the floor at her, “You’re such a theatre geek.” Kay fell onto the floor in dramatic agony, “You’ve wounded me to my very core, how will I ever survive? Unless they get the fright of their lives.” Marinette rolled her eyes as Kay got lost in her own world singing songs from Beetlejuice and eating her waffle. “Come on nerd, we don’t want to be late.” Marinette said as she extended an arm, Kay promptly took it and stood up once more. “I mean, if we’re late that’s one less minute we have to spend with Liar Rossi…”

“Just come on!” Marinette laughed. The girls walked down the hallway until they arrived to the main lobby where the French class was chatting. Alya walked over to them leaving Lila who was fuming that Alya would leave her for Marinette. “Hey girl, can’t believe you woke up early for once. Hey Kay.”

‘No way in Hell is Alya choosing the weird new girl over me!’ Lila screamed internally

Marinette chuckled, “Yep. Without Kay I definitely wouldn’t have though.”

Lila huffed.

“Thanks for keeping my girl straight Kay!” Alya said giving Kay a playful nudge on the shoulder.

‘Oh that is it!!!’ Lila watzled over to the trio of girls. “Hi girls! Oh Kay! Almost didn’t see you! I forgot to mention earlier, people in Gotham don’t really appreciate fags, so maybe turn down your, you know, lesbian urges and stuff.”

Shock. Was all Marinette felt, then she saw red. She vaguely comprehended Kay holding her back, “Oh yeah Lila? I forgot to mention earlier that people in Gotham don’t really appreciate lying bitches, so maybe tone down your psychopathic tendencies.”

“Kay totally uncalled for!” Alya barked. “Are you kidding Alya?! Didn’t you hear what Lila said?!” Marinette screamed. Lila started to blubber, “I’m- so- s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your f-feelings!” She wailed overtop the commotion, adding to the cacophony and causing all eyes to be on them, ‘perfect’. “See, you made her cry! Girl, I can’t believe you’d do this! I always gave you the benefit of the doubt but Lila was right, you are a bully!” Marinette huffed and Kay suppressed screams while still fuming. Alya stormed off, and Lila swooped into the conversation once more. “Kay, do you have a crush on me, or something? Is that why you’re acting this way?!” Kay scoffed, “Please, I have standards. You were right about one thing though, I am gay, but being gay isn’t an insult so I’d take your bullshit elsewhere, because the only insult you doled out throughout this conversation was that I could ever have a crush on someone like you!” Kay pointed at Lila to emphasize her point and before the class could turn on her she took Marinette’s hand and they walked out the double doors of the hotel and waited outside for the bus to arrive.

“Are you okay?” Asked Marinette, placing a hand on Kay’s shoulder. “Yeah fine, I just wish people were more tolerant, and you know that wasn’t exactly my ideal way of coming out to you or the class, but sometimes my mouth just starts moving and I can’t get it to stop.” Kay sniffed, “What’s wrong with me Marinette?” Marinette pulled in her closest, now one of her only friends, in for a hug, “Nothing Kay. Lila is the problem, remember one time when you said she was a- oh what was it? Magic? No, mythic?”

“Mythic bitch. Though honestly Heather Chandler is a step up from that-that” and it all came flooding out. Kay started to cry, something she hadn’t let herself do in a long time. Marinette knew full well why too, any Parisian had to hide their feelings. “I hate her so much Marinette and him too.” Marinette knew which him she was referring to, the one who made them slaves to their own emotions, Hawkmoth. “I know Kay. I do too. Maybe Ladybug will get it right one day.” Marinette felt a drop in her stomach. ‘If I can’t protect the ones I love from Lila how can I defeat Hawkmoth? Maybe...maybe Chat was right.’ Kay looked up, tears still welling in her eyes she wiped them away, Ladybug gave her hope. She was able to muster strength and a smile, Ladybug gave Paris hope, “Come on Marinette, she’s doing the best she can. Ladybug has saved Paris more times than I can count, she’s an amazing hero. One day Hawkmoth will be out of our lives for good, and it’ll be her doing.” Marinette sighed and felt warmth from her friend’s words, at least someone believed in her.

“Miss Kay,” said a proper voice startling the two girls out of their shared moment. “Alfred!!!” Kay grinned, “How are you! It’s been so long! What are you doing here?!” The man, Alfred let out a chuckle, “You’re rambling again Miss Kay, but to answer your questions: I am doing well, and while it has been long Master Bruce has sent me here to pick you and any of your friends up to take you to the tour.”

Kay’s eyes brightened, “Dope!!! This is Marinette,” she said motioning towards the bluenette who smiled and waved kindly. “I think we’re ready to go.” Alfred cocked his head a little, “There is no one else you wish to wait for?” Marinette and Kay shuffled their feet awkwardly, ‘don’t you have any other friends?’ Is what he meant. “Nah, it’s all good Alfred.”

Alfred gave a smirk, although he felt disappointed that Kay only had one friend, she was so sweet, he expected her to be the life of the party. “Oh- by the way,” Alfred started as Kay reached for the limo door handle, “We picked up a guest on the way. I think you’ll be happy to see her.” Kay have an awkward smile and a confused look to Alfred, she opened the door only to see her girlfriend.

“CHLOÉ!!!!!” Squealed Kay, throwing her into a tight embrace. “Yes, yes I missed you too Lené.” She returned the hug pecking her girlfriend on the cheek and seeing somebody she didn’t think she’d ever see again. “Dupain-Cheng!”

“Queenie?!” Marinette asked with a look of recognition, she almost didn’t recognize her friend, after all it had been a year and in that amount of time Chloé put her hair in two braids and had dyed them brown.

“You two know each other?” Asked a confused Kay, as she released her girlfriend to look at Marinette. “Yep. Dupain-Cheng was the only tolerable one in my old class.” Chloé gave her girlfriend a soft smile. Kay thrust Marinette into a hug, “You were the Girl Who Didn’t Believe Lila’s Bullshit! I should’ve known! Thank you for being there for my girlfriend!” Marinette blushed, “It’s not a problem. Chloé was there for me more times than I can count.”

Chloé rolled her eyes while giving a gentle smile, “That class is utterly ridiculous, you weren’t. Of course I was going to be there for you.” Kay wrapped both of them in a tight hug, Chloé still in her seatbelt, “Ahhh my two favorite girls in one place!” Chloé let out a chuckle and gave her girlfriend a pat on the shoulder. “Mmk Lené.”

“Wait Chlo, why are you calling her Lené?” Marinette asked. Kay reddened before burying her hands in her face. “Don’t you dare tell her!” Alfred let out a chuckle before driving off to Wayne Enterprises. “Miss Kay’s real name is Kaylené Khan. She’s embarrassed of it for some reason, a fact that Miss Chloé likes to tease her about.” Kay facepalmed, “Alfred!!!”

“You shouldn’t hide your name Lené. It’s beautiful.” Chloé said twisting her girlfriend’s dark brown hair. “I agree, though Kay is a pretty nickname.” Marinette said giving her friend a playful shove. “Yeah whatever. Let’s go meet your new boyfriend Damian!” Kay teased, “He’s going to be at Wayne Enterprises, isn’t he Alfred?” Alfred kept his eyes on the road while he responded, “Yes Miss Kay, but I have to say I don’t know what you’re talking about in regards to Miss Marinette and Master Damian.”

“Yeah Lené what am I missing?” Chloé demanded before looking out the side window of the limo.

“I’ve made the match of the century Chlo! Damian and Marientte would be the perfect couple!” Chloé scoffed, “No way you can get Ice Prince a girlfriend, though if it was anyone it would be Mari.” Kay smiled, feeling triumphant, “See Marinette it’s meant to be.” Marinette chuckled, “I haven’t even met the guy Kay!”

Kay started to swoon in her seat, “Oh my gosh, I’m going to witness love at first sight!”

Tag list (lemme know if you’d like to be added or I missed you, ps 54 tags?! Omg. Fricking Tumblr said I can’t do more than 50, so those of you on my list will be in the comments ASAP):

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@tog84

@thequestionablyhuman

@thyladyanput

@vixen-uchiha

@novicevoice

@2sunchild2

@zebrabaker

@chrismarium

@mycupisbroken

@winter-gardenflower

@dast218

@bluerosette23

@chocolatecatstheron

@anjuschiffer

@fertileleaf

@drarryismylife101

@zerotosiki

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@krispydefendorpolice

@octoberscorn

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@clumsy-owl-4178

@queenmj10

@shreky-boi

@magic-miraculous

@gingerdaile

@mooshoon

@ladylb

@eve-is-the-dawn

@bee-wrecker

@fiendsangelical

@captainmac6

@7-sage-7

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@st0rmy-w1th1n

@fatimaabbasrizvi

@mindfulmagics

@fics-by-maria

@miraculous-simmer7

@kuroko26

@severelyenchantedwonderland

@shewhoridesonrainbows

@shizukiryuu

@melicmusicmagic

[aestheticsandwriting]

One-Shot a Day, Day 21: Reunion- RvB

Day 21: Reunion. Spoilers for the end of season 12. The reds, blues, Carolina, and Wash are finally allowed to see Tucker after he’s stabbed by Felix at the end of season 12.

“Dr. is he going to be okay?”

“Captain Tucker should recover just fine given time.”

“Yay, Tucker will be fine!” Caboose cheers, pausing slightly before continuing, “wait… Tucker will be fine.”

“Shut up, Caboose, we all hate him as much as you do.”

“Grif!”

“Everyone shut up!” The room goes silent at Wash’s raised voice, Carolina tilting her head slightly, the blond knowing she’s smirking underneath her helmet. “Thank you. Dr. Grey,” the former freelancer turns to the genius, “when can we see him?”

“He’s still out, but he’s stable enough for you all to go sit in his room, quietly. And I must stress quietly; captain Tucker needs his rest, and if I hear one noise complaint I will kick you all out of the hospital until you learn to control yourselves. Now! You’re all welcome to cram into his room if you wish, we gave him one of our few private rooms for discretion purposes. Just down the hallway on the right, room 23.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” Carolina steps off, Wash a fraction of a second behind her.

“Before we go in; if any of you even start to get loud, so help me, I will kick you out before Grey has the chance to, is that understood?”

“Damn, Wash, what got your panties in a twist?”

“Grif!”

“Fine, I’ll shut up.”

“Thank you.” The group crams into the room, shoving themselves into every available open space, though both Sarge and Simmons leave not long later, having put eyes on the aqua soldier, being reassured that he’s alive, Caboose and Grif leaving less than ten minutes after that, leaving the former freelancers alone briefly, until the lieutenants -along with a few privates that had been under their command- all stumble in to see their leader, though none stayed long under the ‘terrifying’ gaze of Agent Carolina.

A comfortable, though somewhat tense, silence stretched between the two as they watched the man on the bed before them as he breathed evenly. “Carolina,” the blond’s voice is scratchy when he finally breaks the silence, “you don’t have to-”

“I know. I want to, though; I know what it’s like to stay by somebody’s bedside for hours and hours, maybe even days, by yourself. It’s no fun at all.”

“Thank you. But what I said still stands; you don’t have to stay here all the time with me.”

“I am getting hungry, would you like me to bring food?”

“Something to snack on, please? I’m not sure my stomach can handle much of the normal rations yet.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to be too long.” The redhead stands, grabbing her helmet from the floor beside her chair and pulling it on again. “Dr. Grey said he should wake soon, hang in there, Wash. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” He lets his eyes follow his teammate out the door, sighing as he turns his attention back to the man in front of him. “Dr. Grey said you should be awake by now, I know the rest is good for you to recover, but the longer you stay under the more I worry,” he sighs again, moving a hand from his knee, removing his glove before placing his pale hand on his friend’s dark one.

“I don’t mean to intrude- oh goodness, I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s okay, Dr. Grey.” He pulls his hand back hastily, glancing at the doctor and then back at where his hand had been previously.

“You don’t have to move your hand, I won’t say anything to anyone. But what I was going to say is that even though I imagined he’d be awake by now, if it’s any consolation, I’m not concerned that he’s not.” She steps into the room further, dropping a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Wake up time varies, especially in a case as traumatic as this. If he’s not at least showing signs of waking by this time tomorrow, then I’d be starting to worry, but for now, I think it’s safe to say everything is fine and his body is just deciding he needs more time dedicated solely to healing.”

“Thank you, that does make me feel better… if only slightly.”

“I just need to check a few things, then I’ll be out of your way. I am changing his dressing, though, so you’re welcome to step outside if that’s going to bother you.” 

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.” The doctor checks a few machines, noting down multiple things on her data-pad, before pulling back the thin sheet and blanket and moving aside the gown he was put in post-op. 

“Oh, god.”

“Are you okay, agent Washington?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. I don’t know what I expected, but that was not it. I’m fine, though, I’ve seen worse. A lot worse.”

After the doctor is done, she leaves him alone again to his thoughts, knowing that Carolina is still a while out with the food as she got called to a meeting with Kimball and Doyle. “Tucker you idiot. I told you not to put yourself in unnecessary danger.” 

“Mmmm?” The man on the bed groans, nose crinkling, as his fingers tighten around Wash’s. 

“Tucker, shhh, you’re alright, you’re safe now. Don’t move too much, you don’t want to rip out the stitches.”

“Stitches?” The question is sluggish as he squints his eyes open, closing them again. “Fuck, why’s is so bright?”

“You’re in the hospital, it’s bright because I didn’t bother to turn the lights down after Dr. Grey checked your vitals and incision a while ago.”

“Incision?”

“Yeah, they had to cut you open more than Felix did to make sure none of your organs were punctured.”

“Felix. Yeah, that’s right. How bad is it?”

“You’ll be down and out for a while. He got you pretty good, you’ve got ten stitches, but Dr. Grey said you’re doing fine. I should probably let her know you’re awake.”

“No, wait. Not yet. I don’t think my head can manage her cheeriness right now.”

“Okay, we’ll wait a while longer. I, um, I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Were you worried about me, Wash?”

“Of course I was.”

“Have the holidays turned you sappy, Wash?” The man in the bed finally manages to open his eyes, dark brown staring back into blue.

“What?”

“Dude, it’s Christmas eve.”

“Really?” The blond questions, incredulous. “There’s no way it’s that late in the year already.”

“Check the date.”

“How have I not noticed this.”

“Wouldn’t be that difficult for you to not really think of the days.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Did you just admit I’m right about something? Who are you and what have you done with agent Washington?”

“Shut up, you prick.” Washington curses himself on the inside as tears form behind his eyes, despite his words seeming as though he’s unhappy with the man lying in the bed. “Wash, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what yo-”

“For once in your life, stop being dramatic.”

“I… fuck, Tucker,” the man pauses, “I thought I was going to lose you. I saw the footage from the other’s helmet cams while you were in surgery. There was so much blood, and you were just there, bleeding, helpless.”

“I’m the one in the hospital bed, I should be crying.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks, I’m lying in a hospital bed, critically wounded.” Tucker shifts, wincing slightly, but content and as pain-free as to be expected once he settles in his new position, slightly reclined so he’s not totally flat. Patting the bed beside him where he’s now made room he speaks again,

“come ‘ere, Wash.”

“No, I don’t want to-”

“The incision is on the other side, we’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate.”

“Wash…” Tucker lets out a long sigh, eyes closing and opening slowly again. “I know we have a lot of… um, tension. A lot of things to work out between us. But for once can you just do something without thinking about the consequences? It’s not like I’m asking for something earth-shattering, I’m asking you to sit or lay in bed next to me to reassure you that I’m alive.”

“Okay.” Wash stands, pulling off the last few pieces of armor to leave himself in his undersuit before climbing slowly and carefully into the bed, Tucker throwing his arm out so that it’s under his neck. “Tucker, I-”

“Shh, not now. Just lie here.”

“Okay.” the two stay there, quiet, the blond eventually turning to gently throw his arm over the other’s chest, tucking his head into the other’s next, each man eventually falling asleep in their own time. 

That’s how Carolina finds them an hour later, dropping the peanut butter and crackers on the small side table, along with the banana that she brought for the other former freelancer, smiling at the two, glad they finally seemed to have worked out whatever was going on between them.

[cadday]

Collateral Damage - Chapter 6

It’s just about around a week later when he thinks about that conversation with Ansem again. He and Lea are sparring, which is a nice way to say he’s throwing random shit at the kid while the kid  tries to use freaking frisbees like a weapon. Bizarre brat needs a better weapon, those plastic nuisances couldn’t protect him from shit. Shouldn’t need protection if Radiant Garden doesn’t fall, won’t fall, can’t…

Braig chucks another stick at the kid, mainly because he’s running out of ammo having exhausted the bouncy balls he commandeered from Ienzo earlier. Which were going to be a pain to pick up but maybe he could push that up on the hot head who just got nailed in the head with said stick he tossed.

Eventually they had petered out into sitting and throwing those bouncy balls back and forth while they took a break for lunch.

“So why is someone trying to kill you? I mean I get you’re an ass but like it’s only half the time.” Braig jumped a bit startled, not expecting the question.

“I’m sorry who’s trying to do what?” He looked at Lea like he had two heads. There was no way the kid had just asked him that.

“The guy who's trying to kill you. It’s why everyone’s weird about things right, and what happened to you, you know. I figure he’s gotta be still around right?”  Lea shrugs like this was a completely normal conversation to be having after training for the past hour.

“...why do you figure that?”

“Because everyone is paranoid if you run off for like any amount of time. I heard Master Ansem talking to Dilan about how he thinks someone’s trying to off you or something but you like don’t want to tell them or worry them or something.” Lea looks nervous and he realizes he should probably get on his case about spying, but Lea, Axel, Lea was always so very good at deception and snooping, honestly it could come in handy if the kid had practice, doesn’t matter he’s never going to be in a situation to use.

Braig stares at him before looking down to the ball in his hand. He bounces it off the wall closest to him and catches it. He thinks about how to respond and tries for something close to the truth. Lea isn’t asking him this completely off the cuff, he’s pretty sure Master Ansem has been hinting at them to try to get him to talk and he isn’t sure he blames him. He hasn’t been forthcoming with information but if Lea goes and reports this well that might be better. It means he avoids the other’s trying to get him to explain more and Lea doesn’t seem like he is going to push for more.

“I don’t think he’s still around...He could come back though and sometimes I go to check to be sure he hasn’t.” Lea does look startled. He realises that the kid probably was expecting him to either lie or tell him that everyone was just fussy old worry warts.

“So someone is trying to kill you! Dude that’s fu…” Braig waved a hand at the kid to get him to stop talking.

“Watch your mouth kid, lord knows Even is going to give me an earful if he hears you cursing. He about took my head off for that time Ienzo said the F bomb after an experiment backfired.”

“Oh my god, I would pay to hear Ienzo cuss.” To be honest he thought it was pretty hilarious too but technically it wasn’t appropriate for a kid his age to say things like that. If you're old enough to lose your heart, you're old enough to...

“Anyway the guy wasn’t necessarily trying to kill me, it’s complicated. But let’s go with this, if you see some guy with white hair and yellow eyes you book it out of there, just in case…” Lea seems to consider this so seriously that Braig is shocked the kid is capable of it. But then again he’s been accused plenty of times of never taking anything seriously.

“...okay.” Lea nods like it’s some sort of promise, and Braig kinda hopes that if it comes to it the kid takes it to heart and is gone before any crap hits the fan again. Can’t be again if it never happened to begin with.

The bouncy ball he chucks at Lea nails him in the forehead and Braig literally falls over laughing.

Later Braig convinces Lea to help him clean up the training room, because he was using the balls just as much technically and really hadn’t Braig technically been helping the kid out or something.

The kid disappears to probably go find Isa, and stare at him when he thinks Isa can’t see like he’s made of moonlight or some poetic shit. Braig returns the balls to Ienzo who when asked why he had so many anyway was just told cryptidly that they were for ‘science’. While that was ominous he decided the best choice was not to pry or risk that ‘science’ be directed at him in some way.

Braig ends up outside when evening is getting close, partially because he was feeling restless but also he did obsessively check the place Terra had shown up, hadn’t shown up. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he did appear. He couldn’t just leave him, last time the guy had amnesia, maybe he could convince him he was more Terra then Xehanort, not like there was a keybearer around to…

Red hair girl has. will have, had a keyblade. He stops in the square and just isn’t sure what to do with that thought. The girl was like Ienzo’s age, maybe younger, he couldn’t imagine her fighting much of anything seriously. He has a hard time taking Lea seriously as it is. Terra hadn’t shown up though and might not ever, but something in him, his heart maybe, was telling him that for all things changed for him that Terra, Aqua, and Ventus were not likely as lucky. The girl needed someone to train her though at the very least and if Aqua was gone then she didn’t really have any options. None of the apprentices besides him really had any information about the keyblades and what was to come. There was that mouse king but he wasn’t sure where he even was and how to contact him, or if he would believe him to begin with. Keyblades drew heartless to them and that put the girl and radiant garden in danger. There was no other keyblade wielders running about during this time though…

‘i could.’ Oh right, other heart. And wait what did she mean that she could?

‘teach the girl to use the keyblade.’ Really that was, well not the craziest option all things considered but their in itself lay a serious issue one that had him uncomfortable at the thought.

‘no, you would stay in control. i am not strong enough anyway, but i can teach you to then teach her.’ That was an option but would that even work.

‘it will have too.’ Braig nodded and then realized that he was nodding to himself in the middle of the square probably looking like a crazy person. He quickly continued on to check for Terra but already was certain that he would find nothing. If more heartless appeared he would see to that girl learning the keyblade. Who knew really if it would ever even come to that?

It’s late when he gets back and he tries to ignore the way all the shadows look like they're creeping closer to him the longer he is out. If he all but runs inside the entrance to the castle well everyone should just be thankful he didn’t slam the damn door. Braig tries not to berate himself for being paranoid as he heads to his room. In the hall outside his room is Dilan, which I mean it’s kinda late so that’s surprising, he thought and kinda hoped they would all be asleep. Dilan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask where he was which is kinda a blessing because he didn’t have the time to think up a lie or even an explanation that wouldn’t sound just as much like a lie.

“Hey, what’s up? Missing out on beauty sleep lurking outside my room you know.” Dilan huffs but it’s more a laugh and Braig grins at little victories.

“I found it.” Braig looks at Dilan super confused because he wasn’t aware anything was missing until he’s holding out a red fabric something and it occurs to him that everyone had said he wasn’t wearing something. Carefully he takes it from Dilan’s hand and isn’t sure why he’s being so careful. He can’t even remember what was important about it.

“One of those things, the little monsters that have been around had it. Don’t know why.” Braig nods stiffly and okay that’s weird he guesses but he isn’t sure what to even say to that so yeah just nodding works.

“Thanks.” Is what he ends up kinda croaking out in a response and Dilan nods slowly but doesn’t really go anywhere. Braig just stares at the fabric in his hand and thinks he remembers it hadn’t always been his, there had been someone else who wore it first, someone important and he realizes suddenly that there's a lot he can’t seem to remember. Because Braig can’t recall how he ended up Ansem the Wise’s apprentice, or what his parents' names and faces were, he can’t remember why this piece of fabric is so important, and all of this has him leaning against his door as he tries to calm down. It occurs to him that either he must have known these things at some point, and his heart and the other heart both agree that somethings wrong. So it’s easy to come to the conclusion that this was freaking Luxu’s fault again. Braig is missing parts of himself, memories of things and he might not be able to ever get them back and he would be pissed if he could actually breathe right.

When he finally calms down somewhat he is aware that Dilan is not only still there but sitting next to him with his arm slung over his shoulder in some sort of side hug thing. He thinks that this is embarrassing for a second then decides he does not give a damn and leans more into his friends side.

“It was not my intention to send you into hysterics.”

“Not your fault dude. Kinda my new normal isn’t it?” He tries to laugh but it sounds so fake even he’s cringing.

“Whatever happens you know I’m not, we all aren’t going anywhere. You're stuck with us I’m afraid.” Braig can’t look at him. That was well rough, because they might not ever go anywhere but Braig had. He had been forced to leave them, and he wondered if they had hated him for it, they had to, for abandoning them, betraying them, lying to them. But he hadn’t done that. It hadn’t happened and wouldn’t happen and they would never know. Except he does. He still remembers and it freaking hurts all the time.

“Dude, feeling particularly sappy today. If anyone’s stuck with anyone it’s more like ya’ll are stuck with me. I’m like glitter, you ain't ever getting rid of me.” Braig is still leaning on his shoulder and neither of them move for a while. When they finally go to bed Braig is still gripping the fabric that had been returned to him and he falls asleep holding it to his chest.

[mimiplaysgames]

The Ocean On His Shoulders (1/2)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 4,272

Summary: She’s been waiting for him for so many years. When he finally sees her, Terra realizes that instead of saving her from the Realm of Darkness, he must save her from herself.

A/N: THERE ARE NO SPOILERS IN THIS FIC - only things that were shown in trailers and my own ideas. So I got this prompt from @steadyknight that went something like this: “A semi-fixed Terra finally has his heart back... But now to save Aqua dearest, heartbroken from her ongoing Darkling transformation, he sees that the only way is to sacrifice that which he longed for so long.” Or in other words - “break his heart into pieces.” WHOOO there are some serious consequences in such a prompt, and I had to actually break this outline into two parts. This part addresses the prompt directly - the other half addresses its meaning. I do hope it’s enjoyable! Thank you for the prompt, it was quite a challenge to get a vision for it. I basically also had to make peace with how salty I am over how it seems that Sora will be saving her, LMAO.

Title taken from Gary Schyman’s piece for Bioshock.

Terra knew what he would be facing. They told him what to expect, where to find her, and how to get there. They told him to prepare himself. It was probably going to be painful to see her that way, and he retorted that saving her was his responsibility and his alone. The journey so far had been a never-ending war, and a nagging thought at the back of his mind wondered if this place was sentient enough to understand what he was trying to do. The hordes of Heartless he’d been bludgeoning the entire way were means to stop him from getting to her. 

And if the Realm of Darkness truly wanted to keep her, the kinds of monstrosities he fought were proof that it meant its threats. Which was part of the problem: she was now the Realm, and the Realm was her.

Put simply, she wasn’t waiting anymore. She was lurking.

Riku and the King had given him enough details so that he’d have a sense of what that meant. Yet, once the dirt he was stepping on finally gave way into sand, and he heard the crashing of waves, and the moon’s light illuminated the beach, he succumbed to what he knew was false hope. Maybe she would agree to go with him. Maybe she’d be comforted to finally see him again, instead of strangers. Maybe she would smile.

Heartless awaited him on that small beach, but they did not attack. They stared him down with those bright yellow eyes that served as their only means of expression on their otherwise impression-less faces: blank and feral. They simply acknowledged his existence as if it was the most important thing to them. And as though they had all shared the same thought, they slithered backward into the water, forsaking him.

Not once did they break their stare from him. They sank, their glowing eyes keeping watch on him until they faded from his sight, until the murky water eventually forced what little light they had through their sockets to disappear. He couldn’t shake the sense that they were still there observing him – he just couldn’t see them anymore.

She wasn’t here, though. He was alone on that beach, and he’d have the sense to start calling for her when a gripping feeling in his throat stopped him. The water. Something was wrong with the water.

The waves were alluring enough, but it was an invitation to suffocate. The rock formations that hugged along the shoreline twisted and stretched out unnaturally. It almost looked like they were meant to be something else, as though they had died the moment they were born.

And then his heart beat. She arrived.

The moonlight brightened the surface of the water enough for a shadow to grow, an open trapdoor to the depths below. Darkness swirled out of this opening like smoke. Two hands crept out, grabbing onto the water as if it was solid ground, and she pulled herself out.

She was merely a shadow, but he knew it was her. Call it hearts being connected: he knew who was walking toward him, the moon basking over a black silhouette of a woman walking on water, her steps sounding as if she was stepping on puddles.

The part that hurt the most was knowing he couldn’t hug her hello. He stepped forward as well, but stopped. He kept his feet on the sand, just inches short of where the water massaged the earth. Everything in his body screamed at him not to take another one further, as if the sea would swallow him in one gulp. Even with his entire suit of armor to protect him, Terra expected it would be torn to shreds once he was in.

It was only when she stood directly in front of him, her own feet never leaving the waterside, that the shadow dissipated and he finally looked upon her beautiful face. Scarred by golden eyes, hair that turned whiter the further away it grew from its roots, and skin that was so charred and so violet, she was clearly turning into something else. The darkness floated off of her as though her skin breathed it. She wasn’t human anymore, even if she looked it, and this precious girl he’d been in love with for years stood there with all the evidence that showed how much she rotted away for all this time waiting.

His nose burned and tears streamed down his face. His helmet was a blessing, hiding the guilt he wore on his face. He didn’t want to provoke her anger with such a pitiful look – he already knew well enough this was his fault. The least he could have done was have the strength to tell her not to follow him as he fell into darkness; he should have been the one to turn into a monster instead of her paying such a price.

Aqua, who once opened her bedroom door when he knocked late one night. He had hoped she was awake to talk away his worries about the upcoming Mark of Mastery Exam. And she welcomed him with a big smile on her face despite how tired she really was. And they talked. For hours. About anything. Until they fell asleep on her floor, dragging her blankets and pillows down with them, just like they did when they were children.  

Aqua now stood there with a look as if seeing him was the greatest offense she could have experienced.

“Terra,” she said with an anger so mute and a face as placid as it could get with such furrowed brows, it almost seemed as though she was trying to stop herself from ravaging him. “It’s been a long time.”

It was hot inside the armor, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. The mucus in his nose didn’t allow him to breathe, and he instead tried to do so through his teeth in order to calm himself. “A-Aqua,” he nearly sobbed. “I-”

“You’re very late.” She stressed that last word, as if to get across how long it had been since they’ve last seen each other.

He was a head taller than her, but he felt as small as a puppy shivering in fear. He hung his head. “I know. I know I am.”

“You know, but you never came.” Her jaw quivered, and she mustered every ounce of control to speak further. “You don’t actually know anything. You don’t know sadness. You don’t know loneliness. You don’t know what it feels like to find the comfort in surrendering to your fate.”

“Aqua,” he pleaded. “I can’t pretend to know anything about what you’ve been through and there is no apology that could ever make up for it. I could give you a million regrets and it wouldn’t change a thing and I’m sorry I can’t do more. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His voice broke, and she had enough mercy to give him time to find it again. “But I’m here to at least do something. To help you.”

“Why do you think I’m like this? How dare you show up here? Now? The only reason I’m here was to give you a chance at freedom. You should have had my back.”

“I can take you home. I can take you back to the Realm of Light.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she raised her voice a notch, without losing her efforts to remain calm. “I’ve hurt myself for years misleading myself in faith. Believing that you or someone out there would take the time to find me.” Her face contorted into fury, her voice nearly growling. “You will rot here, and I’ll show you thirteen years’ worth of misery.”

With that, she lost her self-control. Shadows gripped him like whips, and with a swing of her arm and a yell, she propelled him out onto the water. He hit the surface with a crashing thud, rolling over.

He didn’t sink. It was as if there was hidden glass tucked itself just beneath. It must have been his armor that stopped him from descending, protecting him from whatever was down there waiting.

She summoned a Keyblade – a stolen one. And she skated across the water, closing the distance in between them in one graceful boost, using her momentum to land a sickening blow. He dodged, the water he was standing on bursting out like a geyser the moment she hit it.

“You have every right to be angry!” he called as he managed to get on his feet.

Her face contorted when she heard that. Anger, apologies, help, loneliness – all of these reminders exposed her pain, like jabbing at an open gash. And like a wounded animal desperately trying to survive, she immediately went after him.

He didn’t want to fight her. He didn’t want to touch a hair, or summon his Keyblade in defense. He didn’t come all the way down here just to harm her further than what she’s already been through. The unfairness of it all.

So he ran in circles, dodging her attacks in the hopes that she would get tired. But he was prey that kept getting caught by a predator who knew better. With every stumble, he cast a weak Cure just to keep himself going.

Aqua didn’t give him time to breathe, looming over him with that Keyblade raised.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered to himself, summoning his own to block the attack.

She stumbled back from his counter, taking a moment of her own to collect herself. It wasn’t a powerful block, but it broke her patterns enough to snap her out of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Aqua,” he said, keeping his Keyblade in hand but lowering it as if to mitigate the threat.

Her glare was icy. “You already have,” she said calmly, right before a glowing shadow developed around her. In an instant, several copies of her paraded around the water.

All of them were phantoms and were untouchable when he swung. Yet they had a sustenance, throwing powerful shocks that would bring him down on his knees, again and again.

Then the real one lunged at him, and he barely dodged without getting smeared by her direct hit. She was swift, and picked herself up quickly after the miss to follow up on another strike - until Keyblades clashed and grinded against each other, him on his knees and her towering over him.

She wasn’t stronger than him, yet his weapon vibrated from her force. Magic. She relied on it to build up her stamina and control her technique. This was a method she always used against his sheer brawn, and even in darkness she was the same. However, if he continued this game of cat and mouse, he would lose soon. As much as he didn’t want to cause her pain, failing this fight wouldn’t help her either.

As if reading his mind, she said, “you will drown here with me.”

That was it.

“I will not!” He put muscle into it and pushed her off of him. He stood up tall. “You’re coming with me… even if I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”

As a taller, bigger fighter, Terra’s methods were all about closing in on his opponent with the goal of striking them down, accompanied by such a long, massive Keyblade to support his approach. This was why Aqua developed to be such a nimble gymnast, relying on evading and magic to balance out where she was weak. She’d hit him where he was open, countering quickly enough so that he didn’t have the time to react. Using magic to cast finishing blows and to overwhelm him.

But that Aqua was of the past. This one had new tricks up her sleeve. She had her phantoms. She had control over the water as she commanded it to shift under his feet. She warped. The power the darkness gave to her spells tripled their robustness.

And yet, she wasn’t the only one to learn something new.

Years of struggling under Xehanort’s control gave Terra the time to really customize Master Eraqus’ expertise - chain whips, designed to enslave darkness and regain control of the battlefield. Advanced and powerful, Terra had normally struggled with such an ability, whereas Aqua learned it with ease. But if light was a part of the heart, and the Keyblade merely an extension of that, being separated from both taught Terra the true meaning of maintaining his own will amidst despair.

He now had the skill to control these chains with only his mind, and he summoned them. They spread over the surface of the water, illuminating everything in a warm, orange glow. Every phantom they passed through combusted in an instant. They rose when they reached the horizon, only to circle back and dome over the seashore. And they closed in on her, wrapping around her in a spiral.

He didn’t know if it was denial that made him refuse to accept what she had become: to see these chains of light trap her so easily, constricting over her body like she was darkness incarnate. Light hurt her too much.

To soften the blow, he used powers of nothingness instead. He stabbed the water with the tip of his Keyblade and left it to stand erect on its own. It glimmered, and orbs of light surrounded her. These were explosives, a warp within the fabric of space and time that Xemnas would pull out to power his attacks. A Nobody’s powers, left behind in his body.

When enough of them materialized, Terra slammed a fist to his palm, and the orbs shot at her like lasers, one after another. She yelled from the pain, and he nearly stopped the attack short from hearing it. But he told himself to have nerve. The darkness wouldn’t have her, and he needed to win this fight to make sure he saw that through.

She dropped to her knees, King Mickey’s Keyblade dissipating. She clutched at her side, and all was quiet enough to hear the rhythm of the waves.

With a choke, Terra ran to meet her at eye level. He removed his helmet to see her face to face. To see her with every color that made her who she was, without the tint of the visor. Water dripped from the strands of her hair, and she gazed into the depths of the sea, defeated.

“Aqua, I’m so sorry.” He wondered if this was yet another throwaway apology. Sorry for hurting her. Again.

She slowly raised her head and gazed at him, her golden eyes soothed by seeing his face. She didn’t speak at first, but merely studied him. “How did I do?” she asked.

How did I do? This was a question they asked each other after every spar. Every practice. Even after exams. This was their way of keeping up with their progress. To see where they could improve. To take their chances to praise the other. It was to help them both succeed and become Masters together. It was about making sure they could reach that shared dream without leaving the other behind.

How did I do? It was proof that Aqua was still in there, somewhere. That she remembered.

“You really had me sweating there,” he said, forcing a chuckle. “Only you can make the darkness look that scary.” He paused a bit, deciding to take the risk of teasing her, like he normally would when they used to be happy. “You could use some more light, though.”

He hoped it would make her smile. Please, please, make her smile.

Her eyes scattered around, as if to process what he said. “I’m so tired,” she replied with a breath, her voice low and sad.

“Then I’ll carry you back,” he said without missing a beat. “You can rest while I take you home.”

She slowly shook her head, as if disagreeing with what he said, and gazed into the moonlight that observed the two of them in the horizon beyond. Shadows from beneath her swirled upward, and they spread enough to make him gasp and step back.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, and she fell over, splashing into the water until she sank.

“No, no, no, no.” He darted to where she stood, digging through the water but all he did was swipe at glass as he saw her body sink lower and lower until she started to fade away. The armor still protected him from sinking. “You can’t have her!”

He dismissed the armor and immediately dropped into the depths, swimming after her. At some point, it stopped existing as an ocean, and gradually changed into empty air, as though it was bottomless. And she sank, her eyes closed and her body relaxed.

It was hard.

He grabbed her and held her close with one firm grip before pivoting to swim back up. The moonlight from this point was so faint, it couldn’t give him any way to see what was down here.

He could join her in these depths. It was easier to give up and let it take over. This way he would still be with her for the rest of time. Sad or angry, it was a better existence than to be separated from her at all.

She was heavy.

These doubts were invasive. He should be fighting for the sake of setting her free. His thoughts betrayed her when he promised himself he’d rescue her, and he would find Ventus along with her. With every stroke upward, her weight doubled, trying to pull him back down. Until his shoulders ached. Until it was hard for him to breathe from all the energy spent in swimming up. To swim up. Swim up. Up.

She was in his arms and he could win her back if he just kept his chin up and his legs kicking. Almost there.

The surface. Something pulled at his ankles and tried to get him under again. He let it take him for a second just to gather energy to swim up. Repeat.

The shore. He crawled onto solid, reliable ground, her body carried by one arm. He could feel the waves hit his legs, but it was finally over.

She lay there, immobile, her eyes gently closed. She was breathing so quickly she panted like a dog. The violet on her skin spread, threatening to take her over.

He turned her over and wiped cold water and wet sand from her face. “Please wake up,” he said. “I know you still have light in there. It led me to you. I couldn’t find you without…” He fought back tears. “There has to be a way to fix this.”

She had no response, no movement. Just breathing like an animal.

“Please tell me what I can do to fix this.” Tears poured out from his eyes. “I wanted to make things right. I swear I did. I should have done it sooner, I should have found the strength to be there when you needed me. Please don’t go.”

He saw her continue to fall to darkness, the way the shadows took every inch of her. If she had any light left, it was going to disappear completely.

He had been on this same brink, many years before. Possession was a technique made possible by suppressing the light within someone’s heart, by destroying their connections with others and by giving them one option: to give up just to feel some ease.

Terra couldn’t save himself when it happened to him. What had saved him all these years - what kept him going and what helped him feel less alone - was the connection he had with his Master.

In death, a spiritual bond was made. A heart taking refuge inside another. Each time Xehanort came to convince Terra to snuff out the last bit of flame that kept his light ablaze, it was Eraqus who kept it burning. Eraqus who gave him the comfort and the encouragement to stay alive. To keep hoping for a chance to change things around.

Terra was alive because Eraqus’ heart was embedded in his own, proof that light shown brightest when he had support.

Aqua needed this, too.

The waves lapped over his ankles from behind. The shadows reached her neck, and were spreading over her chin.

Light was like a flame. It was warm, and with enough care and room to breathe, it would spread. It was cleansing, and without it, there would be no existence. Master Eraqus taught all of his early lessons on the Keyblade using stories that used fire as an analogy, with books that depicted colored sketches of flames, who would give to each other their own essence in case one of them started to flicker.

When one wielder stumbled in their path, the other would help them find their way again.

Terra had one choice. It was a forbidden act – never raise the Keyblade against the heart of another. Never threaten the heart of another. Never touch the heart of another. The heart was sacred and was the source of life. Unnamed damages could befall a person who would play with something so delicate and treasured.

If he attempted to release his own heart in order to place it in hers, he could very well turn into what she was. He could become corrupted beyond saving. The waves could grab him and drag him back down, to use him as a replacement.

Damn the consequences.

“I’m with you, Aqua.”

Terra raised his Keyblade and struck his own chest. The pain sheared at him: sharp and intense at first, a severe pull that tried to take his ribs out. He heard fabric tearing. But then he relaxed.

It was the most tempting, coaxing repose he could have asked for. His mind drifted into sleep, dreaming away his worries and fears. His body went limp and soft, every ache melting away. It was peaceful and cozy in the dark, where he didn’t have to remember a single thing or be aware that he had anything to do. He didn’t want it to end.

He woke up. The windows were incredibly tall, bordered by an intricate gold frame. So tall, that he figured he must be in a palace. Except he didn’t recognize where he was. Outside was a gathering of pine trees, rustling in the wind. It was sunny. But that didn’t give him a clue as to his location, either.

He was in a bed. The sheets were silky, the mattress luxuriously firm, the pillows soft as clouds. All of his muscles ached from too much sleep, and as much as he wanted to continue to doze off, he sat up. The room was enormous, fit for a prince, with furniture that showed off exquisite designs in bright colors with a fancy rug to match.

A girl sat on a chair next to him, her head resting on her arms as she leaned onto the mattress, sleeping away. Her hair was a vibrant blue color, so unique that he stared at her for a second. Which was weird. Normally, he didn’t pay mind to these sorts of details and preferred to keep his nose in business where it belonged. But with the way her bangs fell on her face, he just couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Heat rose to his cheeks. This was crazy, and he should get up. Except he wore nothing but a shirt and boxer briefs. Next to a sleeping, beautiful girl. He scrunched up his bedsheets around his hips to hide away his embarrassment.

She moved, grunting from her nap. Her eyes blinked open, revealing the color of a morning sky. They were large and bright, and he swore he could stare at them forever. Especially when she smiled. Now it was overwhelming.

“Terra, you’re awake!” She leaned forward, excited to see him. “Thank goodness.”

This was certainly the best compliment he could ever receive from someone like her.

“Y-yeah,” Terra said, trying his best not to look like a fool. “Where am I?”

“Disney Castle.” She was breathy when she spoke, her grin spreading even further. “Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe.”

She reached out to touch him. He was half-naked under the sheets.

He scurried away from her, despite that he quite liked the idea if he was going to be honest with himself.

She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” he said too quickly, then cleared his throat. He should try to sound in control of himself, try to make a good first impression. “I’m fine, I feel great. Um… who are you?”

It was an innocent enough question. Ask a pretty girl for her name. But her smile fell. Her eyes widened in shock, and the tears that poured out couldn’t be stopped. She gripped her heart with one hand and covered her mouth with the other as if to suppress a scream. Terra felt bad and a part of him ached to have hurt her this badly. How else could he feel when she acted as though she’d been told that her closest relative had died?

[angel-with-a-pipette]

Title: Just a copy

Summary: Saving Ven meant adding another Guardian of Light to the heroes' roster. It also meant heartache, dug up deep rooted insecurities and made Sora question his sense of self.

Rating: General

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney/Square Enix. This has been written for the @kh3countdownchallenge , prompt 27: Loss. Included Pairing: Sokai (duh).

Also available on: ao3 

Please enjoy!

“He was the one who kept my heart safe,” Ven concluded his tale, his eye scanning every person in the room until they fell upon the boy he was talking about. A smile spread over his lips.

“Thank you, Sora.”

Only a few hours ago, Ven had still been asleep. It was thanks to Aqua, Lea and Sora that he was now sitting among them, still a little weak from being out of commission for such a long time, but otherwise upbeat.

And that was thanks to Sora, Ven had explained, by sheltering his wounded heart not once, but twice, and Kairi stared at Sora in awe. Of course, she knew about Roxas’s heart resting inside of Sora’s and two years ago, she herself had been seeking refuge inside his heart. But none of it compared to protecting Ven’s heart for nearly –

“Twelve years,” she repeated and looked back at Ven. It was hard to believe when Ven himself barely looked sixteen years old.

“Twelve years,” he confirmed, but curled his hand against his chin as he grew pensive for a moment. “Well, before that, he already reached out to me when Xehanort split my heart in two.” He slowly started to count with his fingers. “And that was–”

“Four years earlier,” Aqua added. She was sitting next to Ven, occasionally petting his head as if she made sure he was really there. She reminded Kairi of Sora's mother; she, too, had showered her son with affection when he had finally returned after missing for 18 months.

Kairi's smile waned. And now, the poor woman was waiting for her son to return once again.

“Yes! Four years.” A grin spread on Ven’s lips and he threw his hands up to cross his arms behind his head. “So our hearts have been connected for roughly sixteen years, give or take.”

A giggle escaped Kairi.

“I can tell.” When Ven threw her an inquisitive glance, she pointed at his arms.

“Your body language is similar! Sora does this thing where he crosses his arms behind his head all the time. No wonder he does when you've been a part of his heart nearly all of his life. Right, So-?”

His name died on her lips when she heard the scraping of wood against the wooden floor. Kairi quickly turned to her side to look at him, having to crane her neck because he had gotten up.

“Sora?”

“Sorry,” he replied a little sheepishly without meeting her eye.“I just have to check up on something. I’ll be back, soon, okay?”

Upon his words, a heavy feeling spread in the pit of Kairi's stomach, and she lowered her eyes, noticing the plate in front of him. He had barely touched his piece of cake.

“Okay,” she replied anyway and without a single glance back, Sora left the room and Kairi couldn't wait for him to return again.

Except he didn't, even after nearly an hour had passed. By now, it had gotten late and the impromptu party they had thrown together in celebration of Ven’s rescue slowly grew to a close. Aqua escorted Ven to his new room, helping his weak limbs to stay upright, Leon and Yuffie were clearing off the table while Aerith started to fill the dishwasher and Lea hadn’t attended the get-together at all, claiming to feel tired after the rescue.

Kairi grabbed the barely-touched plate of cake Sora had left behind and looked around guiltily. She didn’t want to leave without helping the others, but Aerith waved her off before she could even say something.

“Go, find him. We’ve got this under control.”

Giving her an appreciative smile, Kairi left the kitchen cake in hand as she walked up to the guestroom Sora currently occupied and knocked on the door.

“Sora?”

No answer. She quietly opened the door and peeked inside. The lights were turned off and the bed was still made – he had only entered the room shortly to drop off his backpack. She placed the left-over cake on his desk and left his room again to check on the bathrooms.

They were empty as well.

Great.

It was already dark when Kairi stepped outside into the cold night. She suppressed a shudder and rubbed her upper arms a few times with her hands before heading out to search for Sora.

She shouldn’t have left him alone.

It was rare for Sora to be upset and even rarer for him to run away to be alone. On Destiny Islands, Kairi knew exactly where to find him because it was the same place she visited when she was feeling upset: the secret place.

But Radiant Garden was huge and Sora could be hiding anywhere – searching for him might take all night and that was assuming he didn't wander around. Frustrated, Kairi balled her fist and held it over her heart, scrunching her eyes shut.

But what if – ?

Her eyes flew open again and flickered up to the outer wall of the city across from her.

If both of them sought out the same place of comfort on Destiny Islands, maybe there was a chance that her favorite place here comforted Sora, too?

It was as good of a lead as any and Kairi quickly rushed down the street and scaled the steps that led up to the wall two at a time. She finally arrived at the top of them, her breathing labored as she turned her head left and right, scanning the illuminated wall for any kind of shadow.

She saw nobody.

Her shoulders slumped in discontentment and she was ready to continue her search down the Bailey when she heard a quiet noise that made her whip her head around.

There! On top of a crane used for the restoration of the city Sora sat, curled up on himself with his head buried in his arms as his form shook slightly

Kairi felt her heart breaking.

As quickly as possible, she climbed up the crane and smoothed her skirt down before she sat next to Sora. She felt him wince upon contact and saw him furiously rub his face against his arm before he looked up at her with a forced grin and puffy eyes.

“Hey Kairi.”

“Oh Sora...” she muttered and reached for one of his hands. He squeezed back tightly. “You didn't finish your cake.”

A chuckle broke out of the boy and his shoulders shook gently as Kairi scooted closer to him.

“Talk to me, please. What's wrong?”

He stayed silent for a moment before answering.

“What if I'm not me?”

“I... don't understand?”

Sora sighed and started to absentmindedly caress Kairi's fingers with his thumb.

“The moment Ven's heart left my chest, there was an emptiness that spread inside of me. I started to feel hollow and I still do. And I know that it makes sense, Ven was part of my heart for basically all of my life, but that's the problem. He joined me when I was just a few days old. And don't get me wrong, I am glad he did! It gave him another chance in life and I would never regret that. But what does our connection mean for me?”

Sora turned his head towards Kairi and she saw new, unshed tears shine in Sora's eyes.

“You said it yourself, our body language is similar. From everything I've heard about Ven, we might be brothers, twins even. So what if I'm not actually me? What if I'm just Ven's copy?”

“Sora, every single person in our life influences us. I wouldn't be the same person I am now had I grown up in Traverse Town instead of Destiny Islands. You and Riku influenced me, you shaped me into the person I am today, and the same happened with you and Ven. He was close to your heart, of course you might have picked up some of your mannerisms, but that doesn't mean that you're his copy. You're still you.”

“You saw Roxas. What does he look like?”

Kairi knitted her eyebrows together in confusion, but decided to indulge Sora for a moment.

“He has your facial structure. Blue eyes. Blond hair, wind-swept...” She gasped.

Of course. That explained why Lea had opted to stay out of the festivities; Ven's appearance reminded him too much of his missing friend. Kairi filed this revelation away for tomorrow though, now, Sora needed her.

“Exactly,” Sora agreed and shuddered. “Roxas, my body and soul. He doesn't look like me the way Lea and Axel look the same. Instead, he looks exactly like Ven.”

“Sora-” Kairi started, but Sora interrupted her, his voice growing more solemn.

“Xemnas alluded to it before. He asked me if I can say for sure that I'm not just someone else's copy. And I honestly can't anymore.”

“You can't trust Xemnas! He wants you to doubt yourself, he wants you to give up! He'd tell you anything to make you use the Darkness!”

“That's another thing that troubles me,” Sora confessed and let his head loll against the crane behind their backs.

“You heard Ven's tale, how his heart is full of Light because Xehanort split off the Darkness in his heart, Vanitas?” Kairi nodded. “Ven has a pure heart of Light – and he was inside of me. And everyone trusts me to have a strong Light that keeps the Darkness at bay, a Light that is so much brighter than other people's Light – but what if that's not the case? What if it was Ven's Light all along that shone so brightly from inside of me? And then Xehanort went and tempted my Darkness and now that Ven's gone, my Light is weak? What if Ven's light was the only reason Xehanort couldn't get to me? What if my Darkness proves to be too much for me to handle and I'll disappoint everyone? What if-”

“Then you can have my light!”

Sora fell silent immediately and Kairi felt heat rise up her cheeks and quickly lowered her head.

“I... what?”

“Sora, I know your Light is strong enough,” Kairi clarified as she peeked up at him from under her lashes, “but if you're in doubt, I'll happily share my Light with you – and only you. Not Ven, not Roxas, not anybody else. Just you.”

There it was. Slowly but surely, a true smile started to tug on the corners of Sora's lips and spread over his face as his eyes softened. Without warning, he pulled her into a hug and buried his head into her shoulder.

“Please,” he begged her, “please do. And please… keep believing in me.”

“Always,” she breathed in reply, wrapping her hands around him tightly.

[doubleberry-crunch]

Admitting Fear

Happened the following morning after Pain of Acceptance

Ventus’s eyes drooped as he tried to focus on Riku’s words, but he was so drained he couldn’t focus. Riku took noticed and shook him a little.

“Ventus, if you’re not up to this right now, we can take a break. You seem pretty tired.”

“I didn’t…sleep well. I’m alright though to keep going, I swear.”

Riku frowned, “You sure about that?”

Ventus nodded, trying to ignore the tight feeling he had in his chest; like someone was squeezing him tightly. Riku didn’t seem convinced and walked closer, taking a seat next to him.

“If there’s a problem, we should discuss it. You seem to be holding a lot in right now. I know things haven’t been easy for you since your separation with Aqua-”

Ventus flinched when Riku mentioned her, “Please…don’t say her name right now.”

“All the more reason I should. Ventus, I think you should try and talk about this. It’s clearly killing you to hold it all in. It’s not healthy.”

“What do you know about what’s healthy for me or not?” He bit back, “These lessons aren’t even helping that much. You’re wasting your time!”

Riku stared at him a moment before shrugging and standing back up, “If that’s the way you feel about it.”

Riku started to walk away and Ventus realized he’d let his pessimism do the talking again, and he started to panic. If Riku didn’t show him what to do, then he’d never be rid of Vanitas. Aqua would probably never speak to him again. 

Fucking hell, I’m so stupid.

“Riku, wait!”

Riku stopped and looked over his shoulder at the older boy, “What is it?”

“I…I thought you were supposed to train me?”

“Yeah, that was the original plan, wasn’t it? The thing is Ventus, if you won’t take my advice, listen to what I’m telling you and follow it then you’re right. There is no sense in me training someone who doesn’t wish to do everything they can to change themselves for the better.”

“I’m trying…”

“Not hard enough from where I’m standing.”

Ventus clenched his hands tightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Ventus, do you know how hard I worked to fight the darkness in my own heart left there by Xehanort’s Heartless? I fought every day of my life for over two years. Many times, I thought about giving in, and one time, I actually did. But did I let that stop me from achieving what I’ve become now? Not once. If you wish to conquer the darkness inside of you, then you need to apply yourself just as hard.”

“Yeah, well not everyone has your strength of heart…mine was fractured. And it still is. And I can’t control my emotions anymore! It’s like they’re controlling me…”

Ventus felt that familiar warmth building in his chest, and the darkness started bubbling to the surface. It spread out from underneath him and several small Flood Unversed shot out from the growing shadows. Riku drew his keyblade and waited for them to attack. When they simply stayed there, just watching him he relaxed, but only slightly.

“These are the Unversed, aren’t they? Terra and Sora mentioned them. They’re from the fractured part of your heart, aren’t they?”

Ventus nodded, looking up at Riku who took a step back in surprise.

“Ven…your eyes, they’re…”

“Yellow? Heh…that’s been happening a lot lately. I can’t control that either, it seems.”

“Well you could learn to, if you’re still willing to let me teach you.”

Ventus nodded, but seemed sad, “I can’t even accept him back into my heart. You could teach me everything you know, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“And why can’t you?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well that’s not a very confident answer,” Riku rebuffed.

Ventus glared, “Sorry I don’t have all the answers for you. I just…know that I can’t”

Riku frowned, crossing his arms, “Can’t or won’t?”

“What kind of question is that supposed to be? Of course I would if I could!”

“Then what’s stopping you, Ventus?”

“I already told you, I don’t know!”

“Is it fear?”

Ventus felt his face and his heart burning, “No!”

“It’s alright if you’re afraid, you know.”

“I’m not afraid of him! I’m not afraid of anything having to do with him!”

Riku noticed the Unversed getting agitated and he smirked a little, an idea coming to him, “Well then what’s the hold up, Ven? Why not accept that part of yourself? Right here, right now.”

“B-Because I can’t! How many times do I have to tell you?!” Ventus snarled, drawing his keyblade.

Riku chuckled and rolled his eyes a little, “You keep telling yourself that lie long enough and maybe you will start to believe it.”

The Unversed Ven summoned launched themselves at Riku, who dispatched them with ease. With the final stroke of his keyblade, Ven came charging at him, screaming a guttural roar. Riku caught the oncoming attack. His face turned stoic.

“By all means, prove me wrong, Ven.”

Ventus growled, pushing into him with his keyblade. But Riku held fast, unmoving. Eventually, Ventus grew tired of the standstill, and made to swipe at him again. Riku once again blocked it with ease, and each attack that followed.  Ventus screamed and leapt at him, only to get the wind knocked out of him when Riku drove the butt of his keyblade into his abdomen. He coughed and fell to his knees, gripping his stomach.

Riku looked down at him, eyes hard, “Sooner or later, Ven, you’re going to get tired of playing the helpless child. What are you going to do then? Eventually, you’re going to have to face yourself. So you might as well do it sooner rather than later.”

“I can’t…”

“You mean you won’t”

“No, I can’t!”

“Okay, fine, you can’t. Why not?”

Ventus growled, trying to stand despite the throbbing pain in his stomach, “Because I don’t want him in my heart! He makes me doubt myself! Makes me weak!”

“What else does he do?”

“He makes me angry…because I can’t control him. And he thinks he can control me…”

Riku nodded, not lowering his keyblade, “What else?”

Ventus stood there breathing hard, refusing to speak. But he could feel the words forming on his lips. The ones he’d been dreading saying for so long. He couldn’t, no, wouldn’t utter them. 

“Ventus?”

“What?” he snapped back.

Riku nodded, lowering his keyblade, “Say it.”

Ventus felt his eyes overflowing, and he wiped at them trying to stop the tears. It only made them fall harder and he started to sob, dropping to his knees.

“Say it, Ventus.”

“I’m fucking terrified! He scares the crap out of me because he is part of who I am. I hate that I have him inside me because he’s so twisted and messed up! And I don’t want people to know that I have a side like that! Because…because if they saw the real me, they wouldn’t like him. They’d hate him just as much as I do! Are you happy now?!”

Riku sighed and lowered his weapon, smiling a little, “Hey Ventus?”

“W-what?” he growled through his tears.

“You did it. You admitted your fear.”

Ventus blinked as a strange calm came over him, “Oh…I guess I did.”

“And if you did that, eventually you can accept him too. Maybe not right now, but someday you’ll be able to make him part of your heart; part of your light.”

“Part of…my light,” he echoed.

Riku nodded and hauled Ventus up to his feet, “I think that’s enough training for one day, don’t you?”

Ventus sniffed, and smiled sheepishly, “Yeah…”

“Go get some rest. Take a day or so for yourself. We’ll meet back for training then. Alright?”

“Right, I’ll do that,” Ventus sighed, wiping at his eyes again, “And uhm…Riku?” “Yes, Ven?”

“Thank you…for not giving up on me.”

“You should thank yourself more than me.”

Ventus looked confused, so Riku continued, “I just gave you a small push. You’re the one who ran the mile that followed. Be proud of yourself, you accomplished something today.”

Ventus managed a small smile, “Alright, I will.”

Riku gave his shoulder a pat, “Now go get some sleep, you look like you’re going to fall over.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Ventus laughed before heading back into the castle. As soon as he laid his head down on his pillow, he found himself asleep.

@desertheartsofold

[krissysbookshelf]

Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek Of: Dress Codes for Small Towns by Courtney Stevens!

As the tomboy daughter of the town's preacher, Billie McCaffrey has always struggled with fitting the mold of what everyone says she should be. She'd rather wear sweats, build furniture, and get into trouble with her solid group of friends: Woods, Mash, Davey, Fifty, and Janie Lee. But when Janie Lee confesses to Billie that she's in love with Woods, Billie's filled with a nagging sadness as she realizes that she is also in love with Woods...and maybe with Janie Lee, too. Always considered "one of the guys," Billie doesn't want anyone slapping a label on her sexuality before she can understand it herself. For Billie—a box-defying dynamo—it's not that simple.  

LEARN MORE

  THE SHORT PART before PART ONE

  That’s the way things come clear. All of a sudden. And then you realize how obvious they’ve been all along. — MADELEINE L’ENGLE , The Arm of the Starfish

  NINE YEARS EARLIER

Three-hundred-year-old oaks were good for two things: hiding from playground fights and kingdom-watching. Billie McCaffrey climbed skyward and settled into a sprawling fork to observe her classmates. Over by the four square concrete slab, Janie Lee Miller sat cross-legged with her nose in a library copy of A Wrinkle in Time. Across the field, Woods Carrington was campaigning for a kickball game. Just below, two third-grade boys, Mash and Fifty, fought over a fourth-grade girl in blue bows and light-pink sunglasses. Other boys swung from the monkey bars while a herd of girls huddled, giggling and happy, around the adults. Their teacher, the center of the girls’ commotion, was dressed in a plain denim jumper and wore a bouquet of smiles. She produced from an ugly black handbag her newly awarded Corn Dolly. “Ooooh,” said the little girls. “Ahhhh,” said other teachers, who asked if they could hold the doll. They treated that decorated corn husk like Billie’s daddy treated a Bible.

Billie oooohed and ahhhhed like everyone else, her voice barely above a whisper. No one even glanced up.

Before the end of that school year, Billie had learned from her daddy that if she wanted friends, she couldn’t stay in tree forks. So she stopped climbing up, up and away, and befriended every boy in her grade by either brute force or voodoo charm. Woods, Billie’s new best friend, claimed it was her kickball skills. By God, that girl could kick a ball farther into Mr. Vilmer’s cornfield than anyone in the class. Even the most competitive boys loved her for it. The girls were a different story. They didn’t quite know what to do with her. And Billie didn’t know what to do with them.

Late summer brought water-gun fights, fishing at the quarry, and biking to and from the dam to skip rocks along the mirrored surface of Kentucky Lake. All this good fortune sparked a happy question from Woods.

“Hey, B, will you come to mine and Janie Lee’s wedding tomorrow?”

Billie chomped on an apple they’d smuggled from Tawny Jacobs’s orchard. Juice ringed her lips. “Do I have to wear a dress? ”

“Nah,” Woods said. “You’re my best man.”

After passing the last bite to Woods and wiping her mouth with her shirtsleeve, she considered his request. Seemed fair. Seemed important. “Sounds good to me,” she said, even though it sounded worse than awful.

“Promise? ” He looked concerned that she might go back to her tree-climbing, avoiding-everyone ways.

“Promise.”

She made the mistake of spit shaking. That night she asked her dad, “Will I go to hell if I break a promise? ” He’d assured her that hell did not work that way. But she didn’t know which way hell worked yet, so she tore up all the notes she’d written asking Woods not to marry Janie Lee.

The next day, Woods Carrington stood behind one of those sprawling playground oaks and wed Janie Lee Miller with a grape Ring Pop and a peck on the lips.

Billie wore her cleanest jeans and stood by Woods’s side.

She looked up to her old perch and thought this friend thing was very hard.

  PART ONE HEXAGONS ARE TRIANGLES

First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do. — EPICTETUS

  1

  I’m waffling on my tombstone inscription today. Elizabeth McCaffrey, born 1999—d. ? R.I.P.: She found trouble. Or. Elizabeth McCaffrey, born 1999—d. ? IN LOVING MEMORY: Trouble found her.

“This is a bad idea,” Janie Lee tells me. Which is her way of saying we’re going to get caught.

“We will not be contained by a grubby youth room and pointless rules,” I reply.

Janie Lee peers down the hallway. There’s no sign of my dad, but her expression indicates she’s voting for retreat. The dingy carpet beneath her feet is patterned with repeating arrows that all point the way back to our assigned sleeping room.

I tickle-poke her in the ribs. She giggles and leans into the tickle instead of away. “I’ll protect you,” I tell her.

That’s enough prompting for her to skitter down the hall with me—two handsome thieves on a wayward mission.

We stand in front of a door labeled Youth Suite 201. It’s 3:12a.m. Janie Lee is wearing a sweet pink sweatshirt, flannel pants, and UGGs, which always make me ugh. I am wearing a camo T-shirt, jeans I stole from Mash last weekend, and combat boots that I found at a local army surplus. Clothes I can sleep in. And, well, clothes I can live in.

Elizabeth McCaffrey, born 1999—d. ? IN LOVING MEMORY: She died in her boots.

I perform the prearranged triple knock.

Davey props open the door, and behind him the rest of our boys offer various greetings. He’s the newest of the gang and we’re all still learning him. There’s an awkward pause while we work out whether we’re supposed to fist-bump or shoulder punch or hug. I up-nod, and that seems to be acceptable enough for him to duplicate.

I turn my attention to the rest of the room. I’ve just noticed that Einstein the Whiteboard is leaning against the mini fridge when something hits me. It’s Woods, tackling me to the decades-old carpet.

“Hello to you, too,” I say from beneath him.

He licks my face like a Saint Bernard and then pretends to do an elaborate wrestling move that I don’t evade. (Even though I could.) Without warning, a two-person dog pile becomes a six-person dog pile. Davey hesitates, then lands near the top. He must be learning us a little. Boys really are such affectionate assholes. I am crushed at the bottom and Janie Lee is half-balanced on top of Davey’s back.

“Love sandwich,” she mouths at me.

It is. It’s not. It’s more. Labeling and limiting something as big as us feels somewhat impossible, but usually we call ourselves the Hexagon. On the account that sixsome sounds kinky and stupid.

“Up! We’re crushing Billie,” Woods says, because he’s always directing traffic.

Fifty farts in Davey’s face in a momentous fashion, and just like that, the jokes begin and the dog pile ends, boys sprawling onto the two couches as if it never happened. I digest the scene as I slouch against the door. Boys. My boys. I’ve been collecting them like baseball cards since third grade.

Woods. He’s not pretty, but he’s stark and golden and green like a cornfield under noon sunlight. Tennis shoes; low-cut, grass-stained socks; ropey calf muscles; blond leg hair; khaki shorts; aqua polo; and an unmatching St. Louis Cardinals hat tamping down floofy blondish-brown curls: he is these things. He is so much more. I know exactly what he’ll look like in thirty years when he’s sitting on our porch drinking peppermint tea.

Davey, elfin and punkish in smeared eyeliner, sits next to his cousin Mash, who looks nothing much like him. Fifty always appears a bit smarmy, and tonight is no exception. His dark hair is oily and he hasn’t shaved in a week. Janie Lee sits slightly apart, cross-legged and petite in a papasan chair. She takes up about as much room as a ghost. Then me. Knees up. Chin up. Happy. Taking their mischief like the gift that it is.

Some lock-ins are for staying up all night and playing shit-tastic games. This one is for parental convenience. The youth group is cleaning up Vilmer’s Barn tomorrow—early prep for the upcoming Harvest Festival—and Dad didn’t want to run a shuttle at six a.m. Tyson Vilmer, barn owner, patriarch of Otters Holt, grandfather of Mash and Davey, will be there waiting with his enormous smile and incredible enthusiasm. Despite the fact that we were supposed to be in separate rooms and asleep by two a.m., I am pretty damn excited to help. Two a.m. bedtime was wishful thinking on my father’s part. We are not true hellcats, but the Hexagon is particularly bad at supposed to when we’re all under one roof.

The other four can’t decide who will open the meeting: Woods or me.

I copy Dad’s southern drawl and say, “Let’s start with glads, sads, and sorries and then say a prayer.” They all laugh, except for Davey, who hasn’t been to enough Wednesday night Bible studies to get the joke. I gesture to the writing on Einstein the Whiteboard. “Dudes and Dudette, I predict this lock-in ends poorly.”

Woods will hear nothing of my prophecy. Einstein is among Woods’s favorite things on the planet—a medium-sized board that technically belongs to the youth group but practically belongs to him. Woods developed leadership skills in utero, and he thinks in dry-erase bullet points. Currently, Einstein says: THINGS TO DO WITH A CHURCH MICROWAVE. Five bullets follow, and most of them look like a one-way trip to a stark-raving Brother Scott McCaffrey, my father.

In the bottom corner, someone has drawn a sketch of a Corn Dolly being lifted on high by a stick figure. They’ve labeled the stick figure Billie McCaffrey, which makes me label them all idiots. The joke is so old it has wrinkles.

A Corn Dolly is only a corn husk that has been folded and tucked and tied into the shape of a doll. In the town of Otters Holt, the mayor handpicks this husk on the morning of the Harvest Festival, which is an annual event the town treats like Christmas-meets-the-Resurrection. The dolly is then assembled and bestowed during the middle of the Sadie Hawkins dance to the most deserving woman of the year.

Hence, the joke.

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” I say, slow clapping.

Woods is positive THINGS TO DO WITH A CHURCH MICROWAVE is suitable 3:15 a.m. material. “You say ends badly. I say ends brilliantly,” he says.

Fifty has an opinion on the matter. “The only thing farfetched is Billie actually winning a Corn Dolly.” He laughs at himself. Too hard. We are often forced to forgive this failing since his facial hair allows him a fake ID, which allows us the beer that comes along with that privilege.

I’m eye-rolling. “You asshole.” Just because it’s true doesn’t mean he needs to say it.

Fifty stands up as if to challenge me while Janie Lee buries her face in the nearest pillow and reminds us that teenagers don’t, won’t ever win the Corn Dolly—Gloria Nix, twenty-three, was the youngest.

I wave Fifty forward with both hands, ready to wrestle him down.

“Back to Einstein,” Woods announces before Fifty and I go for a real row. This may have happened a time or two in the past.

“Back to Einstein,” everyone, including Fifty, choruses. The merriment rises to previous levels.

“This microwave thing.” I point to the first bullet point: Cook Pineapple Bob. “I do like it.”

Woods is beaming proudly. “He’s had a good life.”

I agree. Pineapple Bob is, well, a pineapple. Frozen these three years in the youth fridge. Named by yours truly.

“We’ll burn down the youth room,” Davey replies. He doesn’t say it in a distressed way. It’s more of an FYI. Like he’s maybe done something like this before. I’ll light fire to that backstory eventually and smoke out some truth, but right now, it’s all Bob, all the time.

The youth room microwave is from the eighties, black as coal, and built like a tank. No doubt donated by some senior church member who moved to assisted living. Its smell is a mix of baked beans, ramen noodles, and burnt popcorn (with the door closed). So if we properly execute bullet point number three (Melt 50 Starlight Mints), its condition will drastically improve.

Janie Lee laughs nervously, her UGGs bouncing against the wicker of the papasan. She’s sipping hard on some vodka–wine cooler concoction Fifty has made. I give her a little fist-bump love for showing initiative. On both the rebellious drinking and the microwave. She doesn’t offer me a drink. I don’t need alcohol; I get drunk on schemes.

We begin.

The first three steps are disappointing. Pineapple Bob pops pretty loudly, as does the handful of Monopoly houses and hotels we’ve stolen from the game closet. The Starlight Mints have to be scraped off the microwave walls. It’s more eventful when Mash pukes up wine cooler on a half-eaten bag of Twizzlers.

“Come on, man,” Fifty says. “I wasn’t done with those.”

“You okay?” Janie Lee comforts Mash, which is pointless. Every group has a hurler: he is our hurler. He is used to puking. She is used to babying him. They are a very good team.

“Shhhhh with the upchucking,” Woods orders.

Woods and I turn our attention to step four, which is seeing How Many Peeps Is Too Many Peeps? The answer: more than forty. It’s messy and delightful.

Woods and I clean, reload, and move on to bullet five. Fifty moves on to more vodka. Typical. Step five involves boiling a used sock—Woods’s, because he has the worst-smelling feet—in Dad’s newly purchased World’s Best Preacher mug. Two minutes in, we’ve got gym smell and no action. It’s a little anticlimactic to be bullet five.

As we watch the mug-and-sock do its nothing, Woods says, “In basically three hours we have to be in the barn.”

Fifty lifts his head from a plank position on the floor and says, “In three hours, we could be walking Vilmer’s Beam.” This makes Mash throw a blanket over his own head. Everyone is tired of hearing Fifty bellow about walking the loft beam in Vilmer’s Barn. It was a dumb dare in fifth grade. We’re seniors. We’re over it.

I say, “I hate mornin—” and the sock catches on fire.

“Heck, yeah!” Mash says, too loud, and then laughs.

Janie Lee says, “The other room!”  Because there is a group of our fellow youth snoozing in Youth Suite 202.

The fire is small—barely more than a magnifying-glass-on-grass sort of spark—and entirely worth the four steps that came before it.

“Hot cup of sock, good sir?” I ask in a British accent.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Woods says, reaching for the microwave door.

Davey sits bolt upright. “Do not—!”

The moment Woods opens the door, the small fire becomes a larger one. The mug rockets out of the microwave and explodes on the carpet. The fire—well, most of the fire— lands on a fuzzy blanket. The flames poof. Woods snatches the other sock—the one whose mate is now ablaze—and beats at the fire. He only fans the flames.

We are all screaming. There is more fire. More sparks. Both shoot out of the microwave; the antique appliance dismounts the counter and lands on the carpet with an explosive bang.

I imagine my father sitting up down the hall, scratching his head, lifting his nose toward the ceiling, sniffing. A yell gathers in his throat.

“Give me something to beat it out!” I shout, and Mash laughs so hard that he vomits again.

“Puke on the fire, man,” Fifty says.

Davey shucks his jacket; Janie runs into the bathroom and returns with a damp towel. The jacket is working but not fast enough. Janie Lee throws the towel over the whole mess in a big Ta-da-I-will-fix-this fashion.

The fire is suddenly enormous.

“Was that the towel off the floor?” demands Woods as Davey rolls his eyes and says, “I’m calling 911.”

Janie Lee shrinks from Woods’s tone, nodding furiously. There’s commotion in the hallway. The counter, where the microwave previously sat, is also on fire. The alarm begins a high-pitched wail and the sprinklers descend from the ceiling as if they are Jesus in the second coming. We are all getting soaked as Woods yells, “We used that towel to mop up vodka!”

It’s hard to tell what is fire and what is smoke and what is microwave, but incredibly, I see the toe of the sock that started it all. Dad is going to kill me.

“Time to peace out,” Davey says, gesturing toward the exit.

The fire alarm continues to pierce our eardrums. Woods throws open the door to the hallway. “Abandon ship!” he shouts gallantly. Always directing traffic. He’s glistening with sweat. We all are, but he’s glorying in it.

Mash throws last week’s bulletin onto the fire before heading to the hallway. Fifty gives the wall a pound and yells, “Wakey, wakey. Church’s on fire.” Davey issues me a long look. He’s got some I told you so in those eyes. I’ve got some I know, I know in mine.

I grab Janie Lee in her sweet pink sweatshirt and UGGs and drag her behind me into the hall. She’s as soaked as the rest of us and not wearing a bra, and that’s gonna be a problem when we hit cool autumn air.

I think: I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I also think: I effing love Einstein the Whiteboard adventures. I have a moment of true fear when Woods plunges back inside the youth room. Before I even have time to process this, he reappears, coughing, and says, “Help me, Billie.” He darts into the smoky room again.

In I go to rescue Woods, who wants to save his precious whiteboard. Einstein is too near the fire. The edge is already melted, and I assume too hot to touch. “I’ll get you another one,” I promise him.

Not what he wants to hear. I drag Woods away and shove him toward the back stairs.

Around us, kids are evacuating. They’re carrying phones and sleeping bags and pillow pets. Two sixth graders are getting on the elevators while Fifty screams at them, “Take the stairs! Didn’t you learn anything in kindergarten?” A very familiar form is swimming upstream against the evacuees: Brother Scott McCaffrey. My tired and scared and angry father frantically counts everyone he sees. He flings opens doors, yells, moves to the next room. Precise words are impossible to hear over the fire alarm. But as I watch him check Youth Suite 201, I see he’s putting two and two together.

Likely conclusion: where there’s smoke, there’s Billie.

Janie Lee and I quick-walk toward the exit. She pulls me against her and says right in my ear, so I hear it over the noise, “Billie, I think maybe I’m in love with Woods!”

“Jesus,” I say, and hope it counts as a multipurpose prayer.

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