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[aileen-hollingsworth]

Polaris In The Family ~#15

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A/N: GUESS WHO WROTE ANOTHER THING. what do you mean you already knew it was me? smh. This takes place after Haiden’s pick of the last three. Random day, then a few days later, same day this fic written by the marvelous @aliyatyson hello, cass takes place. So like...there’s a section where that rp was supposed to go if I’d had time to make it from Aileen’s pov, still referenced it later on so it makes sense without her pov tho, so do not fret, I think. Anyhow...starts with Colleen, has other kinda important things. There’s third person pov at the end in italics. Ft. Cole, Sam, Ray (thanks for the rp cass), Uncle James, Lyra, David and Robbie. Also Biscuit.... I hope this isn’t to bad and makes sense?

“That’s not fair!” Robbie yelled as he stared at the game board in disbelief.

“Let’s not raise our voices.” Uncle James scolded from the living room.

Cole smirked in victory and I rolled my eyes with a grin of my own. “I think he played it right, Rob.”

“But—but—I was winning!”

Cole leaned on the chair’s backrest triumphantly. “It’s all in the strategy, kid.”

Robbie examined the game board once more with a frown but gave no other protest. I leaned closer to Cole and whispered, “How did you do that? Robbie never loses on this.”

He suppressed a smile. “Wendy was obsessed with this game when we were younger. I had to come up with good plays to stop her from winning all the time.”

I snorted in an attempt to contain my laughter and his grin widened, “Such a Lady, Firework.”

I shoved him and he laughed right before Lyra declared an “AHA!” from the couch in the living room.

Sam glared at her, reorganizing the papers he’d dropped when he’d been startled by her yelling. David, on the other hand, wasn’t bothered; bobbing his head to whatever song blasted through his headphones—making annotations every few seconds on a notebook—most likely working on some lyrics while Biscuit slept on one of his legs. Uncle James was just too used to it all and kept reading the newspaper without even acknowledging Lyra’s sudden outburst.

“Aileen, look at what I found!” She made her way to us with a mischievous smile and sat down next to Robbie, turning the magazine she’d been reading around to slide it across the table. I read the title out loud. “Love Quiz: Do you really know your partner?”

Cole continued reading after I raised an eyebrow at the title. “Worldwide leaders in research and couples therapy found out that one of the most important characteristics of successful relationships is the quality of the friendship between partners. Do you really know your partner? Take our quiz on the next page to find out!”

“You should take it.” Lyra cooed and I laughed.

“What do you say, Cole? Do you really know me?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s a magazine.”

“It’ll be fun, come on.” I pushed the magazine back to Lyra. “We’ll do it.”

“Perfect.” She flipped the page. “Can you name your partner’s best friend?”

Cole groaned. “That’s not fair. You have like 5.”

“Not true. Just three and you gotta pick one.”

“Fine. I’ll go with Haiden.”

I looked down at my hands, the word "maybe" echoing in my head. “I guess if we ever get over this fight.”

“You mean when you get over this fight.” He corrected and nudged me with his elbow. “Your turn.”

I glared at him. “You don’t have a best friend. You don’t like talking to people.”

“Great response,” he smirked and looked back at Lyra. “Next question.”

Lyra tilted her head. “You seem like a talkative person here.”

“I am when I want to be.”

“He’s just never done much of an effort at the palace.” I snickered and he gave me a sideways glare.

“Next question.”

Lyra smiled and put her gaze on the magazine again. “Do you know what stresses your partner is currently facing?”

Cole and I looked at each other for a moment, having a silent conversation.

I knew he was stressed about the whole rebel fiasco. He’d been sitting with different papers for hours trying to think of something he could suggest to his uncle—King Ashton—but he still hadn’t figured out what the rebels hoped to gain by killing a royal and then stealing documents. It seemed like two completely different courses of action. To me, it made even less sense.  

As for my stress, it mostly came from worrying about Haiden or not knowing how to handle being around Sam sometimes. Either it felt like the good old days or it felt like we’d missed out on everything because he left. It was harder when it was just the two of us at home. He was still working on getting his job transferred to Angeles.

We both mumbled a “yes” at the same time. Lyra continued without asking for specifications. “Can you tell me your partner’s life dreams?”

Cole answered music production for me, and I said fencing and political science for him. We were both correct.

“Who’s the family relative your partner likes the least?”

Cole looked at me. “What was your great aunt’s name again?”

Lyra replied before I could answer. “Ugh, Miss pretentious pants? None of us like her.”

Uncle James, who had gone to the kitchen for a glass of water, stopped to stand near us with a frown after Lyra’s last words. “Who are you talking about?”

I gave him an amused grin. “Great aunt Marge.”

He made a face raising the glass to his mouth. “Oh, that woman is crazy.” Biscuit barked from the living room as if he agreed with the statement.

Cole laughed. “Why do you all seem to hate her?”

“We don’t hate her. She hates us.” Robbie finally chimed in, leaving the game board alone.

I nodded, staring at Cole. “I told you she never liked that my parents got married.”

Uncle James shook his head before adjusting the military dog tags around his neck—from what he’d told us he’d only served for a year—but he always had them on for some reason. “She still thinks they shouldn’t have gotten married. No matter how good things go for Miles. She’ll never accept Tessa married a Three.”

We all nodded and Cole laughed again. “Why does she hate all of you though?”

“Cause she knows we think she’s crazy.” Robbie pointed out.

His father gave him a glance, but Robbie only shrugged. Then looking back at Cole, Uncle James added, “She knows we don’t think lower castes should be frowned upon.”

“And therefore she knows we frown upon her.” Lyra finished.

“Well, she is wrong,” Cole muttered and I patted his shoulder.

“And that’s why she gets the title of the least favorite relative.”

Lyra stared at the next question with wide eyes, trying not to laugh. “Do you think there is fire and passion in this relationship?”

I burst out laughing and Cole struggled not to do so too. David, who had finally joined us, took the magazine from Lyra’s hand to read the question himself. “What kind of magazines are you reading?”

I looked over at Cole, dramatically standing up and placing a hand over my heart. “Tell me my love; is there fire and passion in this relationship?”

He snorted. “There sure have been a lot of fire references.”

I eyed him. “Fire and passion, Cole.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat before standing up and placing a hand on my lower back, in an equally dramatic voice saying, “Yes, my love. There has never been more fire and passion in a relationship before.”

“Does it burn like the fire of a thousand suns?” I declared, staring into the distance like they did in movies.

A small chuckle escaped his lips before he composed himself, taking one of my hands and bringing it to his heart. “Yes. You can doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move his aides, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

“Hamlet.” Lyra acknowledged with amusement and soon enough we both laughed.

David shook his head with a smirk. “Why do you make him embarrass himself in front of everyone?”

“Oh, he doesn’t mind. Do you, Cabbages?”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you reenact dramatic scenes for the sake of it?”

Robbie made a gagging sound, “Boyfriend?” Sam perked up at the word as well, even though he was still in the living room, and I laughed at both reactions.

There was no denying we were a couple, and we were dating, but we’d never called each other boyfriend or girlfriend out loud. “So it’s official then?” I asked and he smiled.

“If you want it to be.”

Saying I had butterflies in my stomach was an understatement. I had butterflies everywhere.

Taking my trusty hairpin out of my braid I placed it on his free hand. He raised an eyebrow at it, however, grinned at me knowingly. I had told him the story behind that pin. “It would be my honor.”

He leaned down for a short kiss, but Biscuit tackled us before he had a chance, deciding we’d been standing close to each other for long enough and it was his turn.

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The house was pretty much empty except for me, Sam and Biscuit. Lyra had a sleepover and Robbie had a camping thing of sorts. David was working on some new song at the studio and Uncle James was off with him too.

It was odd, but not entirely bad after an hour. We’d just kind of minded our own business at the beginning; which wouldn’t have been bad if it hadn’t felt like we were trying to avoid each other. After that, Sam had suggested we eat dinner, and since he was still not any good at cooking, we had to settle with Ramen.

At some point, the conversation had spiked into something comfortable and we’d ended up playing Robbie’s favorite game with me winning.

“Wait…how did you do that?”

“It’s all in the strategy, kid.” I grinned, quoting Cole from a few days ago, even if Sam was older than me for years.

“Loverboy teaching you his plays?” He mumbled with an eye roll and I laughed.

“I convinced him to teach me some, yes. They’re pretty interesting.”

He grumbled a “mhmm”, staring down at the board and I snorted. Sam hadn’t been around when I’d dated Josh, so I’d never seen how he would act around me having a boyfriend. The part of me that still mourned the years lost tried to creep its way out at that thought, but I pushed it aside and focused on massaging Biscuit’s ear. Don’t ruin the mood, Aileen.

“You really like him, don’t you?” his question took me off guard.

“Uh…yes. I do.” Clearing my throat to calm myself down I added, “He’s a good guy. Funny when he’s frustrated, patient when it’s needed, and he cares about others more than he lets on.”

“It’s pretty obvious when he’s around you.”

I blushed. “Yeah…a couple of people noticed he liked me before I did.”

Sam laughed. “Not surprised.”

I gasped. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re actually not that bad at reading people, Aileen, but whenever it involves you—in any way—it’s like you suddenly become blind.” I could hear the amusement in his voice and huffed in response, crossing my arms over my chest.

That’s when Biscuit started barking. I did my best to shush him. He just ignored me and rushed to the backyard’s door, scratching on it repeatedly. I groaned, blaming David for not teaching him any manners while I was in Dominica. “Ok, I’m coming, calm down will you?”

He wagged his tail with his tongue sticking out, patiently waiting for me to open the door. Once I did he ran out and started sniffing the border of the house, occasionally whining. I frowned, and moments later Sam was standing next to me, giving Biscuit the same confused gaze.

That’s when we heard the footsteps and whispers.

“I thought Uncle James said Mr. Westfield would be out of town for the week with his family…”

“He did,” Sam clenched his jaw and we both listened again. There. I walked back inside, ready to go inspect when he grabbed my wrist. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Don’t you wanna know what that was?”

“Yes, but I don’t think going there is the smartest choice.”

“Someone lost his sense of adventure.”

“I’m just saying—”

Not letting him finish I wiggled my hand out of his grip. “I don’t care. Are you coming or not?”

He gave me stern look. In a way, I knew I was daring him. I was daring him to say something. Anything. I was daring him to impose himself as the older, wiser brother. I wanted him to be the guy that scolded me for playing in the rain and getting a cold afterward. The guy that warned me not to look for fights with his friends because they were bigger jerks than he was. The guy that shook his head at me when I came home with a raccoon saying I wanted to adopt him—don’t ask how I caught it, okay?

But Sam only sighed and averted his gaze before saying, “Fine, let’s go.”

THINGS ENSUE. READ @aliyatyson FIC HERE TO SEE WHAT IT WAS. Next section continues after that...but I think you can still understand what is happening without entire context tho

Sophia had gone to the bathroom a few minutes after the doctors took Aliya away. I’d let her go alone considering she probably wanted some space to think. I’d heard she was in charge of the mission and could only imagine how she felt. Brownie eating chic, that apparently was named Ginny, had left to check up on her after a while.

Sam and I stared at each other as Ray paced the hallway frantically on the verge of tears. Feet away a couple of doctors whispered to one another, eyeing him, the conversation ending when one of them walked off to a security guard and made a ‘watch that guy’ gesture. That can’t be good. When we’d arrived the doctors had been reluctant to help Aliya out because of her possible caste and Ray hadn’t been precisely polite. I didn’t blame him for it, but it could be problematic.

“I’ll go talk with them,” Sam whispered to me, patting my knee reassuringly before standing up. He cocked his head at Ray before walking away. “Maybe calm him down?”

I nodded and watched him approach the doctors. Once they seemed to be in a civil conversation I stood up from my chair and walked over to Ray. He kept muttering to himself, “I hope she'll be okay. Oh god, let her be okay.”

“Hey,” I tried to place a hand over his shoulder as comfort. “She'll be fine.”

“She has to... Thank goodness for Twos having a hospital close by.” He mumbled it with relief but considering the conversation we’d had back in Mr. Westfield’s house I could tell he wasn’t a fan of higher castes.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, “Right.” Then discreetly looking around I noticed one of the nurses nearby giving us both a disapproving glare. I knew she’d heard Ray’s outrage at the doctors when we’d come in. “Um...maybe just try to be nicer to the doctors next time?”

He snapped at me, practically giving me a disgusted glare, “Why? He didn't want to help her because she didn't look like a Two!”

The nurse gave us another look. Ugh, this kid doesn’t get it. I pulled him to a different hallway and whispered between gritted teeth. “Stop yelling, will you? You think your attitude is going to help?”

He didn’t calm down. “Does anything else?”

“Yes, literally anything is better than your yelling!” I sighed. “Right now you have us, okay? Sam is already talking with the other doctors; he’ll tell them they don't need to worry about the stupid money. If Aliya's family can't pay our uncle will.”

“She can take care of herself, they-they can pay. You just never had to deal with something like this.”

I was done with his attitude. Aliya and I were in the same freaking caste for God’s sake. “Can you stop doing that? You treat us like we have perfect lives and therefore simply ignore everything else around us. Yes, I know I haven't gone through the same struggles as you, I know I have it better than others. I know.  But you're being as bad as any condescending Two if you keep treating us like we just automatically don't care because we have it good.” I was born a Three as much as any Seven was born a Seven. At least I didn’t treat anyone like they were beneath me just because of a stupid number plastered on my birth certificate.

Ray looked at me like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Good, I’m not done. “I know you're used to higher castes being like that, but if you apply that line of thinking to every Three and Two you meet then its prejudice. And fine, it's usually earned, but what have I shown you so far that makes you think I'm like that?” He had to realize he was just treating me differently because of a number as well.

“I- But-” he looked down at me with a frown. I could see him trying to come up with something to refute my claims, but he came out empty. “You're...you're right, I guess. It's just that almost every time I meet a higher caste, they look down on me, so the bad people outweigh the good...”

“Well...” I sighed “they do, so I don't blame you for usually thinking that way. But trust me, not everyone that donates to charity does it to look good. Some of us do it for real because we can. I've seen people I care about—from different castes—affected by this system.” I looked at where Sam was standing; now trying to convince a nurse to allow him a call on the hospital’s phone. “I've seen some of them do stupid things because of it...” Very stupid things. “And I know you think it's not fair for them to care about Aliya's caste here at the hospital of all places. Newsflash: they shouldn't care, but either you learn to work with what you have until change comes or you get kicked out.”

He averted his gaze from mine after my last sentence and mumbled, “My dad got kicked out too” but before I could ask about it, he pursed his lips and looked at me again. “But fine, I'll try, okay? Maybe there are more Two's and Three's like Ali, and” he cleared his throat “like you and your brother. T-Thank you for helping me get her here.”

I smiled and punched his arm lightly. “See, it didn't hurt that much to be nice. As for Aliya, it was no problem. We weren't the closest friends back in the Selection, but I care about her. I want her to be okay.”

“She cares for a lot of those Selected it seems, even loud and crazy Tracie, so I have no doubt she cares for you too.”

I laughed. “Ah yes, Tracie. I'm pretty sure they're best friends so you better watch out. She likes baseball bats and if you hurt Ali she won't be afraid to use one.”

“So I won't be safe now then...” he muttered, and it took me a second to understand what he meant.

The panic in his eyes as Aliya’s blood covered his hands flashed in my mind again and I wondered if that had been the look on my face when Cole had been gasping for air on the floor.

“Don't talk like that. She'll be fine. This wasn't your fault.”

“Sure...sure... Just don't let the person you love get shot, I can't recommend it.”

I clenched my jaw. “Um, I've been there actually.”

“Oh God...I'm sorry- is he or she, uh, okay?”

“Yeah...he's fine now, thankfully.” Thinking about the whole attack still send shivers down my spine, however. “He recovered quickly since nothing vital got hit, but I had to wait for a day to see him.” I stared at the floor. “I didn't know there were two types of rebels... I would have never forgiven Ali if she'd joined the northern ones.”

“You mean the Sothern’s” he corrected with a small smile.

I frowned at the ceiling. It was getting so confusing. “Uh, I don't know. Which one is which again?”

“We're Northern,” he said, pointing at himself. “Those people who killed the Queen were Southern. Sorry about that too while I'm at it, I don't know if you knew her or something.”

“No. I never had the pleasure of talking to her in person, but her loss hurts people I care about, and the Southern rebels were the ones that shot him, so...I don't think I'm a big fan.”

“Then we have something in common. They're idiots.”

“Agreed... How exactly did you Northern rebels come to be though?”

“Years organizing in secret. Finding people isn't that hard, a lot of lower castes are unhappy, so it grew fast. We have our symbol, so we recognize each other, stronger together as they say.”

I tilted my head, “Symbol?”

He lifted his index finger revealing a star tattoo. “Yep. So, I suppose I can trust you with this?”

“Of course, I wouldn't want to put any of you in danger,” I assured him, examining the star with a frown. It was the North Star, “Hmm.”

“What? Is it too covered in blood?” He asked, staring at his own finger and desperately trying to clean it.

“What? Uh, no,” I reached for his hand and lowered it. “It just...” reminds me of Uncle James’ squadron? No, it can’t be, I thought to myself, shaking my head. “I'm probably imagining things. For a second I thought it looked familiar.”

Ray thought about it for a moment. “It could, we're bigger than we look. You could have seen it anywhere.”

“I-I guess…” I was pretty sure it wasn’t random though. “Are you all composed by lower castes?”

He gave me a confused look. “I think so, but it’s not like I’m in charge of everything. Why?”

“Nothing…I just—”

Sam was in front of us before I could finish my sentence. “Aileen, we need to go.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What? But Ali—”

“I know, but I just talked with David and Uncle James wants us home soon.”

“Did you tell him I have a friend in the hospital?” I scoffed and he sighed.

“Yes, but it’s getting late.”

“I think I’m old enough to handle a couple of hours after curfew in an emergency.”

“Remember the doctor said you should sleep enough.”

“Uh, Doctor?” Ray asked, clearly puzzled.

I pinched the bridge of my nose with a grunt. “Southern rebels. I got a concussion. Sleep is important.”

“Oh…you should probably go home then.”

“No, I want to stay.”

If the situation had presented itself years ago Sam would have dragged me out of that hospital without giving it much thought, I was sure of it, yet despite knowing that, I would have never guessed he’d have the bravery to do it now.

“Come on, we’ll be back first thing in the morning.” He reached for my wrist and started walking off.

“But—!”

“No buts, Aileen. We’re going home.” Staring over his shoulder at Ray he added, “I’m sorry.”

Ray nodded. “I-I get it.”

I gave him a glance before we turned a corner. “She’ll be okay. We’ll come back tomorrow. Be nice and don’t do anything stupid!”

He nodded again, that time with the hint of a smile.

We walked in silence.

I was still surprised Sam had actually dragged me out of that hospital, not because it was something he wouldn't do, but because it was something he hadn’t done since he’d been back. It was one of those things he avoided, those things he didn’t feel like he had the right to do anymore as a brother, those things I'd been desperately waiting for him to do again.

“Wild night, huh?” He ventured, and I looked at him, managing a weak smile. Suddenly sleeping seemed like a good idea. “Definitely.”

“That Aliya girl…she’s an ex-Selected?”

I bobbed my head up and down. “Sophia is so too.”

“I see.”

Silence again.

“Aileen...I want to thank you.”

“For what?” I frowned.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “For forgiving me.”

I examined the pavement at my feet again as we walked. “We already talked about this. I forgave you a long time ago, Sam.” I’d forgiven him during the second year of absence, the moment I realized there was no point in holding a grudge. That didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt the other four years though.

“I know you did... but tonight, when Aliya asked you... you said I was your brother.”  

“You’re her brother?” Ali had asked, and I’d seen the way Sam’s anger for Ray had diminished into uncertainty in a second—the way his eyes had glanced at me reluctantly—shame and sadness taking a hold of him.

I’d managed to mumble a yes, but Aliya kept on pressing, “I didn’t know you had one?”

I’d spent years telling myself I didn’t, and Sam visibly shifted further away from Ray after the statement like he’d been hit by it. He didn’t seem surprised though, just vulnerable and I hadn’t liked it. “Well…I do,” it had taken me a moment to admit it, but I knew I had to, “Sam is my brother.”

I pushed away the memory from barely an hour ago. “What about it?”

“She seemed surprised to even hear you mention the existence of a sibling; I know you stopped telling people about me. You haven’t called me brother since I came back, just Sam. Hearing you say it…it was good.”

I wasn’t sure if it was because I was tired or stressed, but after his words tears blurred my vision and I stopped walking.

“Well, you are my brother are you not?” It was a simple question, yet I could feel the tone I’d given it. The defiance. The reproach. “You are my brother are you not?” My voice broke at the question I’d screamed for years in my head.

How could you leave me?

You are my brother are you not?

How could you disappear like that without telling anyone?

“Are you not?”  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked up at him. There was pain in his eyes as well. “Tell me, Sam! You are my brother, aren’t you? Aren’t you!” My eyes stung and my head throbbed. I just wanted to sit down and hug my knees closer to my chest. “Come on Sam, tell me!”

He pulled me into a hug before I started sobbing. “Yes. Yes, I’m your brother, Aileen. I’ve always been your brother... I-I’m sorry for not acting like one but I’m not leaving you again. I promise.”

I clenched my fists around his shirt and let myself cry. He still smelled like that stupid cologne Mom used to buy for him all the time and I buried my head deeper into his shirt as he hugged me closer to him. “I’m sorry, Aileen. I’m really sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I was a jerk, you didn’t deserve this.”

It felt like I was eleven again, coming into the kitchen with excitement just to receive worried looks from everyone else, Uncle James sitting me down to try and explain the few things he even knew. “You shouldn’t have left.”

“I know.”

I didn’t say anything else and he just let me cry in his arms, his hand gently stroking my head. “I think I ruined your shirt,” I mumbled, wiping away my tears, crying finally replaced by sniffling.

He gave me a tired grin. “That’s okay. Let’s go home.”

He carried me on his back the rest of the way, and it truly felt like when we were young again. No external thoughts to ruined the moment, just the sense of familiarity. I was half asleep by the time we reached our block. “Am I not too heavy now?”

“I can still handle you, Alien.”

I smiled at the nickname. Apparently, when I’d been born, six-year-old Sam hadn’t known how to read my name and thought it said Alien. Even after Mom and Dad told him what it really said the word stuck with him, and when I grew up he always brought it up as a joke.

“I missed you, Sam.” I slurred, almost asleep.

“I missed you too, Aileen.”

I woke up with Sam nudging me, “Rise and shine.”

“Five more minutes,” I mumbled back.

He took my blanket away. “Come on, you said you wanted to be there as soon as possible. Ray called and said Aliya was out of surgery, don't you want to be there when she wakes up?”

I snapped my eyes open at the word surgery and the previous night flashed in my head. Mr. Westfield’s house, the rebels, all that blood. Aliya’s blood. And then it wasn't her, it was Cole’s. It was his pained eyes. His blood on my hand... I pushed the thoughts away. No, he’s okay now, worry about Ali.

Sam placed a hand on my shoulder with concern at my daze. “Aileen?”

I rubbed my eyes and stood up, my head pulsing. “I’m okay, it’s just the headache.”

He nodded. Morning headaches had become a thing most days after the concussion. The last week they’d been residing, but after everything that had happened the night before it felt like they were compensating for lost time. “How bad?” he asked like David normally did during breakfast.

“Maybe a seven?” I wasn’t really sure; it was just killing my temples.

He stopped rummaging for clothes in my closet to glance at me. Normally my answer was a solid four. “Take the pills and don’t even consider skipping breakfast.” It was not a suggestion.  

“Ah yes. The concerned, protective brother has returned,” I mumbled with a smile.

Sam gave me a crooked grin in return. “Oh, he never left; I was just keeping him at bay. No need for that anymore though. Now I can ask Cole how serious he is about this ‘boyfriend’ thing.”

I groaned, sitting back on the bed, but I was glad to hear him say that. It meant Sam was back. Truly back. My brother was home.

“Why the sudden interest exactly?” James asked his niece as she examined his military dog tags during breakfast.

She pointed at the North Star engraved on the back of each tag before asking, “You said all your squadron had these, right?”

He tilted his head but continued to stir the sugar in his coffee without alarm. “Yeah, it was my training squadron. We named ourselves the North Star.”

Sam, who was eating on the counter with Aileen, looked at the symbol too. “Didn’t Dad have a pin with a star like that?”

Aileen nodded, eyeing her uncle warily. He watched her carefully as well. “Yes, he still does. And Mom has it on a pendant, the one made of a wax seal?”

His nephew continued chewing on his food, clearly not following the same line of conversation her niece was trying to hold. “Oh, yeah, I remember that one.”

“Well,” James took a sip from his cup calmly, trying to figure out if he was imagining his niece’s implications or not, “The North Star is a common symbol, Polaris marks the way due north and the rest of the stars wheel around it. People used it for navigation centuries ago.”

Sam listened to it all with mild interest. David was too busy not overcooking his eggs. Aileen, however, was remembering Ray’s words from the night before.

We have our symbol, so we recognize each other, stronger together as they say.

She tried a different tactic to get the information she wanted from her uncle. “You know, my friend is in the hospital because she got shot.”

Sam looked at her with wide eyes as if asking ‘what do you think you’re doing?’ but she ignored his warning glare and kept her eyes on her uncle, hoping he would understand. She needed to know. It couldn’t all be a coincidence.

Her uncle had paused, his cup halfway to his mouth. Not just anyone got shot.

David finally stopped staring at the frying pan to frown at his cousins. “Is she okay?”

Aileen dismissed his concerns; the conversation was not aimed at him after all. “Yes, she’s fine. We were in Mr. Westfield’s house.”

“What? Why were you in Mr. Westfield’s house?” David was very confused, but James’ expression had changed from interest to mild suspicion.

He’d told Angelo that house was perfect to send supplies, and like always, he’d stashed its' basement with things, expecting the young team to think it was originally from the house they were in. That was the protocol with Angelo. If her niece’s friends had been in the house that same night it could only mean one thing…

We have a symbol, Aileen kept thinking. “Oh, it’s a long story, David. Not really important. But she was with a couple of friends.” She handed her uncle his tags with a grin. “I think one of them was part of your training squadron.”

He weighed the chain in his hand, his sight never leaving her as the shadow of a smile tugged at his lips, “Really, someone from the North Star?”

“I’m pretty sure. I think I would only need confirmation from you.”

He didn’t bother hiding the knowing smirk that took over his face. “Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he were. I’ve always supported the North Star. It wouldn’t be that strange for them to be nearby.”

Sam and David were both giving them weird looks now, not understanding the real conversation at hand.

“Have Mom and Dad ever met your squadron?” Aileen wondered, now sure of what her uncle was. James let out a small laugh and started releasing one of the tags from his chain.

“They have,” he admitted, offering his niece a tag with pride “and I guess now you have too.”

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[thebadchoicemachine]

Danganropa au where they’re all normal high schoolers but Monokuma started a fucking among us club and everyone decided to join. Murder just occurred naturally from that point I think.

ASDJHFL