#FIRST PHYSICAL BAWK PIECE . . . .

[bawkrya]

ONE OF MY COWORKERS MADE BAWKY FOR ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[pillsarchive]

Otto Octavius / Reader - '13 squids' Chptr 1

In which you rip a piece of glass out of the Doctor's arm and he starts to feel things, feel things for a person. Ew, gross, that's never happened before. Maybe he's lost more blood than he thought he did? BAD AT SUMMARY'S _ PLEASE READ.

Authors Note: Its like 12 monkeys except the plot lines aren't similar at all and it's 13 instead of 12 squids instead of monkeys. Im going through my drafts and publishing anything good, I dont have time to think of a better title.

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When you moved to new york, you assumed the place would be……well new york. Rats on the street, strange people asking you even stranger questions, the normal everyday weirdness that came along with living in a big city. New york was “quirky”, that’s what everyone kept telling you.

This definitely was not fucking quirky.

You let a string of profanities as you ducked behind the bar counter, the garbage can hurdling through the window of the restaurant barely missing your head. You crawled over to the corner of the counter as fast as you could, curling up into a fetal position and trying to steady your breathing. Hopefully the hard wood would shield you from the fight going on outside, but you doubted it. Heroes and villains brawling on the street was something you’d never get used to. You supposed it was just the way things were now, in the 90s people had portable cd players, now they had iphones. 10 Years ago people had cops, now you had people made of sand and skinny kids in spandex injected with spider DNA. You weren't the type to care about superhero politics, people were fallible and it felt weird to idolize or demonize them based on a handful of chaotic events where no one actually physically there could really fully understand what was going on, flying cars and screaming usually made it hard to pay close attention to things. You just wish they weren't allowed to destroy property. This sucked. Another piece of scrap metal flew over your head and you yelped.

“GIVE IT UP OCTO DOCTOR”

Aaaaah. So that’s who it was. You’d seen spiderman when the fight first began, but you werent sure who he was scuffing with. Otto Octavius, the guy with four metal arms attached to his spine or something. Pretty intimidating. You’d seen videos of him, robbing banks, ripping tank sized holes through government buildings, he’d use his arms for support and just hang there like a ragdoll, smiling and looking at the crowd through his sunglasses. You wondered if he ever walked around anymore. You felt the earth shake and rumble, for metal tentacles gripped the ground and a pair of black boots floated along the top of the restaurant window.

“What doc, you running away? They should start calling you doc bawk bawk baaawk in the papers!”

Jesus, this kid had to work shop his quips.

“If you -” He coughed loudly.

“If you know whats best for you you’ll stay out of my way, spider.”

You cringed into yourself at the sound of his voice. That cough sounds nasty, is he sick?

With that the tentacles scampered away, as did the black boots.

As you sat on the floor and shook you realized the commotion outside was over. No more loud noises. Slowly, you got up off the floor and poked your head out.

Nothing. Just an empty, fucked up street outside.

The lithe figure in the gaudy spandex jumped after the doctor and you crumpled to the floor.

A few tears spilled down your face and you laughed. Loud noises, banging, abrupt movements, it all terrified you. You were jumpy, you didn't know where it came from - luckily most people found it endearing. That or they tried to make you dance purposefully, slamming books closed, yadda yadda. You’d gotten a lot of that in grade school.

After a few minutes you got up and brushed yourself off. Time to clean up. Yaaaaaaay.

You were pissed. If you left the restaurant like this your boss would be angry angry, you could call him but you’d rather not deal with another bout of yelling and loud angry noise tonight, you might actually have a breakdown if anyone else spoke to you or touched you for the rest of the week. After you cleaned the debris off the floor you’d figure out an excuse as to why you didnt want to talk to him unless it was over text. Old people and cell phone etiquette.

You got a rag and wiped all the glass and concrete off of the counter top onto the floor, stacking the barstools ontop of the bar to get them off the floor. Now for the fun part - sweeping. You actually quite enjoyed cleaning most of the time, you found it relaxing to put on your big clunky headphones and dance around the restaurant while you got it sparkling. That’s one of the reasons you’d taken the closing shift - less people, more interesting conversation, more alone time. The bigger broom was kept in the big back storage room, you walked towards the rear of the floor and dug the keys out of your pocket - about to open the door.

That’s when you heard it.

“Ah, ah, good god.” Someone was behind the door. They were in pain.

Immediately you rushed for the first aid kit and the bat your boss kept on the wall (Your boss gave every female employee working alone mandatory “self defense” lessons with the thing, they usually ended with the guy going on tangents about his favorite ball team.)

It was probably someone that had turned into collateral during the fight, hiding in the storage room because it was the only door in the back alley that was open.

…..The only door open.

Your stomach fell. It wasn't open, you remembered locking it right after the delivery guys left. That door was made of metal and hardwood, at least an inch thick, and you knew from experience that it was nearly impossible to break down. Once you’d gotten locked in that storage room for 15 minutes - it was in the dead of winter and you thought you were going to die. You clipped the first aid kit around your lanyard and got ready to swing the bat, whatever was back there was strong as shit and you really didnt want to see what it was. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if your heart was supposed to beat this hard, maybe you were having an attack? Swallowing your fear you quietly unlocked the door and swung it open.

“DONT TRY TO HURT ME, I WANT TO HELP YOU SO JUST DON-”

You began to yell out your demands when you realized who it was.

Doctor Octavius.

His blood was all over the floor and he was gripping his shoulder, trying to apply pressure you guessed. His tentacles were cooing and chirping, almost like they were concerned for him. Crying for help.

The baseball bat clattered to the floor.

“Oh Jesus, ok. -”

You kneeled down next to him and the arms hissed at you. The doctor seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness, he just looked at you and blinked, not saying anything. You stood your ground, the arms continued their hissing.

You raised the medical bag in the air.

“I thought you were an intruder, someone trying to rob the storage room. I'm sorry if I scared you, I just want to help. I'm not a professional, but I've been to a few emergency first aid classes. I wont hurt you, I promise, but if you dont let me help he’ll continue to lose blood and he might die. “

You looked the metal arms in their red eyes as you spoke, they seemed to almost understand what you were saying. Maybe they were sentient? Like little robots? One of them cocked their head to the side.

“Please.”

As much as you didnt want to deal with this, you couldn't watch this man die. You didnt know why he robbed banks, stole chemicals and metal, but you assumed he had a good reason for it. He had been a doctor once, well respected, a genius, whatever he was doing had to be right (in his mind at least). No one was completely one thing.

The tentacles seemed to confer amongst themselves, then to your amazement they cleared away from Octavius. One of them nodded towards him and cooed. They were giving you permission.

You paused for a moment and then scrambled closer to the man.

“Otto? Dr. Octavius? Dont fall asleep doctor, you have to stay awake for me okay?” His slumped over form slowly turned to look at you.

“You dont have to talk, just stay awake. Im going to take your coat off to see if I can get a better look at the injury.”

One by one you lifted his limp arms through his jacket and shrugged the leather off of him. Jesus fuck. There was a piece of glass stuck into the top of his arm, it was massive. Nearly half the size of a mug and halfway stuck in. You opened the medical bag and grabbed a sizeable pair of plier grabby things. You did mention you weren't a professional. You sanitized the pliers and looked at him.

“I dont know if you can hear me, but this is going to hurt. Im really sorry.” You turned your gaze to the metal arms moving and wriggling around behind his back.

“Understand that im not doing this because I want to hurt him, when I pull it out I need you to make sure he doesnt kill me, I need you not to kill me, can you do that for me please?” The tentacles chittered and one wiggled up and down, nodding at you in agreement.

You took a deep breath, squeezed the doctors other shoulder lightly, and yanked on the glass with the pliers. It came out smoothly.

Suddenly the doctors eyes turned from half lidded and sleepy to wide and glassy. He moaned in pain and reached for his shoulder, you grabbed his dirty hand before he could touch the wound and guided it to the ground, holding onto it for a moment while you pressed a clean cloth to the cut to stop the bleeding.

“Shhhh, you’ll be okay. It hurts right now, but it will get better. Just pull through for me, I need to stop some of the bleeding, sanitize the wound, and then give you stitches. It wont take long, you’re going to be okay Octavius. Alright?” To your surprise he actually responded. He hissed a quiet “thank you” and squeezed your hand.

You gave a solemn nod.

“I'm sure anyone else in my position would try to do the same.” He flinched when you sanitized the wound, but for the most part he was still. Even while you were giving him sutures he stayed still and looked at the room, or your face. After the offending object had been pulled out of his arm it seemed like the pain was mostly downhill. When you were completely done you realized you had no clue what to do with him. He was a wanted criminal, obviously, that's half the reason you chose the home operation approach, where were you supposed to take the big dude now? To his villain lair where he couldn't reach anyone if he needed help? Did he even have a place to live?

He was mostly conscious at this point, but he still stayed silent.

“So, what now?”

He turned to you, confused.

“What now?”

“Yeah, what now? I assume if you knew how to take care of semi big injuries like that the tentacles, arms, im sorry, they’d know too. They’re smart. I cant leave you here, your tussling with the spider kid kind of totally fucked up the resteraunt and now I have to call my boss - he’d kill you if he found you here -” The doctor chuckled.

“Would he now?” You cracked a small smile.

“He’d give it a good college try. So, that being said there are a few options. I get you a hotel room for a few nights and sneak you in, I take you back to your house - lair - dungeon - whatever and check in on that arm wound once every few days, or……you stay at my place I guess.”

His smirk enduring, he tried to shrug his jacket on.

“NO- “ You put your hand on the leather.

“I dont wanna know what the last time you had that thing cleaned was. If that gets on the wound ,even while it’s dressed, there’s a serious chance you could get a very very gnarly infection.”

He rolled his eyes, but to your relief he put the soiled piece of leather down.

“I was, before my…. Social fall from grace, one of the best scientists in the world. You dont think I know enough to treat an arm wound?”

“Im not saying that, im saying

A: I’ve known a few scientists in my time, when I think of them I dont think ‘personal hygiene, self care, awareness of their needs.’ I know a guy, he’s in college majoring in quantum physics and I once saw him drink cold chocolate ensure for a month straight because he ‘didnt have time for ramen.

B: It would be easier with an extra pair of eyes, you cant see the back part of your own shoulder too well.

C: It would make me feel better. I already have an anxiety thing, if my brain knows there’s a guy somewhere that I stitched up, who may be dead, alive, or dying, ill freak the hell out.”

He sneered.

“I dont need the help of a college student.” “Im not in college. Im a free lance artist. I just go to shows a lot, there’s a really good Oingo Boingo cover band that plays around here, that's how quantum and I met.”

“Even worse. Your practically asking me to babysit you. What makes you think I wont just leave, you cant stop me.” You stared into his deep green eyes and cracked a smile.

“If you wanted to leave you’d already be gone.”

He stayed silent.

“If you dont need my help, that’s fine, ill just see you on your way and go home. I just thought it would be nice if you had someone that could help you when you couldnt help yourself. You’re a grown man, im not forcing you to do anything.”

He looked at you. He was clearly thinking about something, but there were no clues about his answer to your question on his face. He was stoic, his greyish brown hair was fluffy and his skin looked soft despite the wrinkles and marks that peppered it. His glasses were crooked on his nose and…..and he had no……shirt. How you failed to realize this earlier you were not entirely sure - but oh wow. He was a soft man, and his stomach was covered by a metal plate that looked attached to his skin, for the arms you guessed. You wondered if it hurt him, you’d have to inquire more about the arms later. As you looked at his face you realized he was sort of beautiful. Hopefully he did keep in contact, you wanted to ask if you could paint him. A voice derailed your train of thought.

“If I need you, lll find you….”

You watched as he reached out to you and ran his gloved fingers through your long hair, brushing it over your shoulder exposing your name tag.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Telling from the look in his eyes he was being completely genuine. He began to get up when you stopped him.

“Wait”

He looked down at you, smirking, and he pulled a cigar and a lighter out of his pocket.

“What?”

The air smelled familiar. He smoked clove, the same as you. Yours were herbal cigarettes, though. Non addictive. As attractive as you thought smoking once in a while was, other people begged to differ. You’d saw your own leg off before you doomed yourself to a life of unwanted, unwarranted medical advice and shaming from strangers on the street.

You looked at his arms.

“What should I call them? I’ve been referring to them as tentacles in my head, but that’s just because the papers gave you that nickname. I dont want to offend them.”

He stopped. A look of genuine surprise crossed his face, then he put the mask back on and continued to smirk at you. He processed what you said, and then he laughed.

“Smart, smart girl. Good job, it takes most people a while to realize they’re somewhat sentient. Actuators, that’s what they prefer. Though they dont mind arms either, just not tentacles. They really should ask before they print that sort of thing in the news, i’ve never met a - for lack of a better term - supervillain that likes their nickname. Except the green goblin, but…. You know-”

“He’s just kind of weird, man.”

“Yeah, that.”

The actuators chittered, trying to get the doctors attention. He turned to them briefly, the same look that proud fathers get when they talk to their children crossed his face, then he turned back to you.

“They like you.”

You blinked, and he was gone.

He doesn't hover.

[her0brine]

Here’s the final part to my little three piece fic about Steve and Alex meeting each other, I genuinely had a great time writing this down and thanks to the peeps who liked it as well!!!

As daylight breaks across the horizon, it makes it’s way into the large window that encompasses Alex’s new makeshift bedroom, the gentle warmth of the sun soon awakening Alex from their slumber. It took them some time to fall asleep from their tumultuous night, from their surreal first meeting with Steve and enduring the pain from drinking that potion to heal their relatively intense wounds. As they gently writhed in bed, their green eyes blearily look towards the newly crafted nightstand adjacent to their bed, spotting a bundle with a note pinned underneath it.

They push themselves up, now more fully awake as they tussle their hair back into its proper place as they grab the bundle and note with their other hand. Before opening up the bundle, they begin to read aloud the note, noticing however it seems to be pretty fresh as the charcoal writing on it has begun to rub off on their fingers.

“‘Good morning. By the time you wake up, I should be outside tending to my livestock. This is my daily routine, so don’t be scared if I’m not inside right now. The entrance to my farm is right in the kitchen, to the singular door in it. I also went ahead and washed and mended your clothes. Apologies in advance if you think this was a bit rude as I had to go into your room to get your clothes, and I swear I did not even look at you as I took them off the floor. I also made you a new sword. I made two of them just in case, one out of gold and another out of netherite. I wasn’t sure if you liked welding netherite items so I made a gold one to replace your own gold sword, since I couldn’t go back and get the pieces of your original gold sword. It was just too dangerous to go out again. I hope it’ll be at least a decent replacement before I can go back there later to pick the pieces up to rebuild your original one. Please let me know if you need anything else. Just shout at me outside for what you’d like for breakfast if you want, I’m willing to serve you for as long as you stay here.’................... Netherite?..... They had a pickaxe made out of that........”

Alex now looks down at the bundle in their lap, slowly nudging at its string. Netherite was quite the incredibly rare material, but Steve is making it sound like it was as common as iron. Alex gently pulls at the string, as the bundle suddenly spills out what Steve wrote about in the note. Alex’s once bloodied clothes were now perfectly clean and fully mended, alongside the two swords. Alex looks on in awe at the craftsmanship, as the two swords boldly gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Alex did like their own gold sword, but this new one essentially blew it out of water. It looked somewhat even more sturdy and there was intricate carvings within it’s handle, all cubic-like patterns merging together to wrap around the handle. The netherite sword was also equally stunning, as the odd sheen of the dark material made it look incredibly lustrous. Alex mumbles to themselves, wondering how Steve seemed to cram day’s worth of work into two swords, in just a few hours. Then again, this was the person who gave them a bedroom that was overflowing with different shulker boxes, each filled with rows of bundles that were each filled with a singular type of item, so Alex could only assume it was possibly a set of spares they had lying around.

They began to get out of bed, now putting on their clothes, and seemingly was shocked at how fresh they felt. Not even when they mended their outfit from damage during their own various explorations, it never really felt this smooth and comfortable. It felt like when they made their outfit on their own for the first time ages ago.

It really does seem like anything Steve touches has this surreally excellent degree of craftsmanship, and Alex definitely wanted to achieve such a skill set like that.

Alex soon opens up their room’s door to see the living room, which still was a marvelous sight to see, and even more so in the day. As they walk across it to the kitchen, they can already hear the gentle clucking of chickens emanating from the door there. As they make their way to it, they pass where they once sat in the kitchen table’s singular chair, noticing now the bloodstains they left behind on the floor were now gone, as if nothing occurred at all there.

As they crack open the door, the smell of fresh air and grass hits them, as the bleats of sheep and the soft mooing of cows soon follows. Alex smiles as they walk past the various pens, watching as the animals look towards them, some even being excited by their presence and walking up to the posts, wanted to be petted. They stop to pet a sheep a sheep that was dyed blue, as it gleefully bleats as Alex rubs their head. The whine of a horse suddenly catches their attention though, and Alex looks past the pens to spot a small stable, as a lone chestnut colored horse was attached to it. It looked directly at Alex, before whining again but strangely not in a aggravated way. Alex soon felt like every animal there was oddly gravitating towards them, as if they’ve never seen another person other than Steve and was begging for new attention.

Before Alex can continue to dwell on this, a small yelp rings out, as a flurry of bawks and chirps follows it. Alex whips their head around to see the cause of this commotion, to see Steve kneeling in a nearby pen full of chickens, as they all surround them, flapping feathers all around and some attempting to climb on top of them. In Steve’s hands are some freshly harvested eggs, which is probably the reason why these chickens suddenly got into such a fuss.

Alex giggles to themselves, seeing Steve be overwhelmed by such a relatively harmless swarm of poultry. Some feathers have gotten tangled up in their short brown hair, and various seeds were scattered across their pants, as they used them to try luring the chickens away from their eggs. Their giggles wanes though when Steve finally stands up from the pen’s floor, and notices Alex directly staring at them once again.

“hhgGhh!!......hhHhellloo!-oh! oh...........”

“Oh uh good morning to ya Steve! I see you were uh, kinda preoccupied there. I didn’t want to make more of a mess though so uh, I didn’t go inside there. Uhhhh.... Ah! Are those eggs for breakfast? Since I know you uh, said you can make me breakfast today. I can make it myself though!! You don’t have to cook for me, I’m feeling much better now!”

Steve eyebrows fly up, as they now gesture towards Alex that they’re fine with cooking breakfast, but it just comes out as a flurry of erratic hand waves.

“No no it’s okay Steve! You were kind enough to let me stay over and to even fix my clothes, and to add on top of that, you just gifted me TWO swords! Please, let me just do this for you, I don’t want to be more of a bother.”

“AHHH!!! N-NO PRO-PROBLLEEMM!!!” Steve suddenly shouted, before once again going into a coughing fit. Alex could only watch on once again as Steve struggles to catch their breath, but luckily they did not crush the eggs that were still in their grasp this whole time.

Still wheezing, they make their way out of the chicken pen and goes on a beeline towards the kitchen door, as Alex quickly runs behind them, still willing to cook for themselves. As the two of them go through the kitchen door, Steve once more waves towards Alex, but to make them sit down on the single chair in the room. Alex eventually agrees to this, but clearly looks a bit concerned when looking at Steve.

They seem to have deep grey circles underneath their indigo eyes, and even though they look like they bathed and put on a fresh set of clothes, Steve still looked on edge and exhausted. They proceed to go to a red shulker box, reaching into it and pulling out different cuts of raw meat, looking back at Alex to see their response.

“Oh. Uh..... d-do you have uh pork? Bacon and eggs is great, but if you don’t I would still eat anything you serve! Again I don’t want to make a fuss out of this!!”

Steve seems to physically wince at hearing that last part, as they quickly turn around and store the other cuts of meat that weren’t pork. They turn their smoker on, as they proceed to prepare the breakfast meal.

Alex sits alone at the table, now intrigued by the carvings on it’s sides. It seems similar to the same engravings on the swords they were given. As they look around the kitchen, it seems like this cubic motif is all around them, in both the wooden furniture and walls. Before they can ask Steve if they did all of this on their own, the sound of a plate clicking against a table snapped them back to reality. It was a large plate absolutely filled to the brim with large cuts of bacon, along side four cooked eggs that were begging to be cut into.

As Alex says thank you, Steve shyly turns around to get the utensils, alongside a cup of milk to go along with the meal. They place those next to the plate, as Alex proceeds to dig in. While they chow down on the plate, Steve begins to walk towards the door again, before Alex stops them dead in their tracks.

“Wait, why are you leaving? Come on, stay here! See if you can build a new chair real quick, I want to chat with you! Well, you kinda know what I mean by ‘chat’, like I’ll just uh, ask you some yes and no kinda questions to pass the time. Will ya?”

Alex smiles towards Steve, as they slowly walk back towards the table, arms deep in their pockets as they proceed to pull out some wood blocks to quickly assemble a chair. As they sit down, Steve keeps their eyes glued to the floor, murmuring to themselves as Alex begins to send a barrage of questions towards them.

“Do you live alone? This house is like, absolutely MASSIVE, and yet I kind of feel like you only live here?”

“....... y...yea........”

“Okay, how about pets then? Do you have any at all? I have a tamed wolf back at my home, along with some tropical fish! I know those don’t really do anything, but I think they’re pretty to look at!”

Steve seems to recede deeply in their chair at hearing the pet question, before slowly shaking their head side to side.

“Ah. Well. Damn. Well do you have livestock, and a lot of it! They’re kinda pets I guess, and they’re so cute!! Maybe try telling me about them?”

Steve seems to be more interested in this question, as they straighten themselves up on the chair, and begins to write on a spare note they had.

By the time the duo finished ‘chatting’, it was way past noon and Alex’s plate was wiped clean, and there was a large pile of notes in the middle of the table. Both Alex and Steve were giggling like mad, delirious from learning and laughing at each other’s experiences and various misadventures. Steve also seemed to finally soften up fully towards Alex as well, as their on-edge and morose appearance soon melted away, to reveal that they’re actually quite gleeful. They still had those grey circles though, and soon asked Alex if it was okay for them to leave and rest up, as they genuinely did not sleep at all during the night.

Essentially owing so much to Steve right now, they of course said yes, as it was the least they could do for them. As Steve proceeds to leaves the kitchen, Alex stands up as well to go wash their plate and utensils in the sink. As they wash off the grease on them, they could hear a loud thud, followed by some guttural sound.

Alex soon rushes out of the kitchen, fearing that something bad might have suddenly happened to Steve, before immediately seeing them lying face flat on a nearby couch, snoring loudly. Alex could only assume that Steve was really fatigued from one lost night of sleep, and walked around the sofa to sit in a cushioned chair near to it. As they stare up towards the glass ceiling, they begin to reflect on their surreal luck with stumbling across a seemingly perfect benignant human being. They have lived on their own as well for some time, traveling from village to village and rarely stayed at one place for too long. They’ve barely stayed at their original home for some time, and hasn’t checked up on their tamed wolf either, just relying on their villager neighbor to look after their pet.

Perhaps, they should stay a bit longer, to see if they can pick up some skills from Steve such as how they managed to amass such a large amount of raw material and finalized goods on their own, and why their craftsmanship is so incredibly good. As they think about this to themselves, Steve is in a deep state of sleep, wondering if they should tell Alex to stay over for some more time as well........ they don’t want them to see them leave so soon..........

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (16/?)

AO3

Cady almost drowned once.

She was a kid, and thankfully her dad managed to save her before it got too far. Her parents were observing a nearby river and decided to take her with them. She had wandered off, her parents distracted by their work, and leaned too far over the side and she fell in. For a split second there was nothing and she remembers when she hit the water, the way the water rushed in and filled her lungs, her naïve attempts at breathing failing. She had tried to swim, or even just to move, but she was six, and all rational thought fled her mind and one word replaced it; “help”.

That’s how she feels now. She opens her mouth but nothing comes in or out. The phone is pressed against her ear, her fingers still and cold like a statue’s around it. It was late evening when Janis had called her, but now time has lost all meaning. It may well have been hours since she picked up the phone, she doesn’t know. All she knows is what Janis has just old her, and they’ve sat in silence as both their worlds crumbled around them, the amount of time is anyone’s guess.

Janis breaks the silent first, and there’s a stab of guilt in Cady’s chest when she does.

“Caddy?” Cady bawks a little at the sound, the nickname reserved only for Janis. “Caddy please say something.”

“I…” She wipes her face, her fingers coming away stained black with streaked mascara. “I’m sorry, Janis.”

“Oh… thanks.” Her heart breaks even more than it had when she hears Janis sniff, and that wasn’t something she had thought possible. “Yeah it um… it sucks, I guess.”

“It does.”

‘Sucks’ is too weak a word for this, but Cady can’t think of the right one either. Nothing works, and what might work sounds fake. As does everything she could and wants to say now. She can’t ask if she’s okay because it’s obvious she isn’t, nobody would be. She doesn’t want to ask for the details because it will either break one of them or both of them. And she doesn’t want to change the subject because only a complete and utter jerk would do that.

And she also really, really doesn’t want to hang up, or for her to hang up either.

At least they seem on the same page with that.

“So who else did you tell?” she asks finally. Her pillow is held close to her cold chest, her fingers toying with the fringe around it.

“Damian,” she sighs. Of course. “My parents were already there when I heard so that was a bullet dodged. I think they have to be here. Because you know, I’m a children. I need parental supervision apparently.” A fraction of a smile tugs on her lips and there’s a faint, faint warmth in her chest, present but barely making an impact against the cold. She’s still her Janis, no matter what. “And then I called you. I thought at least this time you should hear it from me.”

“Thanks.” It’s not that she holds it against her for not telling her the first time, not at all, she had her reasons and Cady can’t be sure she wouldn’t have done the same.

“And… Regina.”

“Regina?” That gets Cady up to attention, the shock so fierce it actually manages to distract her. Janis talked to Regina? Willingly? About this? She looks up and tries to see if she could find any flying pigs zooming past her window. “You told Regina?”

“Yeah,” she replies, her voice shaking. Then it all comes out, rushing like water through open floodgates. “I don’t know, I was scared and upset and I needed to talk to someone but I didn’t want to hurt you or Damian and… that happened.” Cady leans back on the bed, digesting the information piece by piece. On the other end, Janis pants heavily like she just ran a marathon and while reason says it’s from her confession, her anxiety starts to climb. “Are you mad?”

Is she?

“No,” she says. It’s the best answer. “I’m… a little confused. Surprised, maybe. But not mad.” She shrugs then. “You had your reasons.”

“You’re the best,” Janis sighs. As they fall silent again, Cady’s mind wanders and she imagines what Janis must be doing now, what must she look like. Sitting on her hospital bed probably, clad in her pyjamas and beanie, looking out at the black sky outside. It hurts her just picturing it and her arms ache with how empty they are. If she could be anywhere else, she’d be over there with her, wrapping her arms around her and pressing kiss after kiss to the back of her head.

“Hey, Caddy?” she whispers in a broken voice.

“Mm-hm?”

“You know when you… when you found out?” she asks. “And I said to you that if this gets too hard for you to handle that you can… That I need you to promise to walk away if this gets too much?”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t like where this is going-”

“It’s just that the next few months are probably going to be really hard on me. On us,” she cries. “And I know how much you have on your plate.”

“It’s not like the last two months were peachy either,” they remind her.

“That’s different,” she says. “We thought we had an endgame then and now…. Caddy I’m just saying that the offer still stands.” She swallows thickly. “That you can…. You can leave if you want. If this gets too hard.”

Cady lets out a long exhale, their fingers digging into the covers. Back then they had mentally crossed her fingers when she made that promise and that hasn’t changed now. If anything, her resolve has only grown. They don’t think she could even get the words out.

“And I’m just saying that I’m not leaving,” they say steadily. Tears sting at their eyes, their breaths coming out ragged. “If you’re in this then I’m in this Janis. To the end.”

Janis is quiet for a while after that, so quiet that Cady fears she may have hung up.

“Wow,” she croaks. “That was passionate.”

“Yeah, well,” they shrug, pushing their hair off their shoulder. “We Leos are like that.”

“So you believe astrology now?”

“I didn’t,” they say. “But Gretchen did this whole thing at lunch the other day and mapped out everyone’s birth charts. And I don’t know, I was kind of into it. Besides… it said that Leos and Scorpios are most compatible.”

“And who are we to argue with the stars themselves?” Janis asks, bemused. It feels good, both to hear her happy and to smile herself, if a little out of place.

Cady lays down on their side, face pressed into the pillow.

“So you believe me then?”

“I’d be a fool not to,” Janis says. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” The words feel strong, stronger than anything she’s ever said before. She doesn’t think she’s ever meant something quite like she means this. “I am.”

“Okay. Okay.” She shifts on the other end, groaning and muttering something under her breath. “Caddy…. I-I appreciate this. Thank you, a lot. I mean it.”

“Thank me by getting better, okay?” they say. “Then you can take me on the big fancy three course dinner.”

“Given my bank balance it’ll be a Taco Bell,” she says. “But it’ll be the best damn Taco Bell you have ever had in your life.”

“That’s fine.” A fresh wave of tears runs down her face, her voice so tight it’s in danger of fading altogether. “Janis, I…”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know.”

She wipes her face again, her sweater hanging over her hands. The conversation’s run its course now, nothing left to say, but the idea of hanging up doesn’t feel right to her. She doesn’t know if it’s because of what she just told her, her need to be with her more because of it, or if it’s just plain old-fashioned missing her. What she does know is that thinking about saying goodbye hurts, a physical ache in her chest.

Luckily, Janis is on the same page as her.

“So what are you doing right now?” she asks. “Or… what were you doing, I guess?”

“Homework,” she sighs. She rolls onto her back and looks up at the ceiling. “Studying. The usual.”

“You know I never thought there would be a time where I actually missed math,” she sighs.

“Well how about on Friday I come over and teach you equations?”

“Ooh, you really know how to flirt don’t you, Heron?” she teases. “Romantic evening with you and some quadratic equations. Sounds like fun.”

“Oh I wouldn’t bore you with quadratics. I’d throw in some limits and functions too. I’m flexible.”

“I love when you talk nerd to me,” she mumbles and laughter lines her voice. Cady rolls onto their side, legs tucked up a little and despite everything that’s happened, a sort of golden warmth blossoms and spreads through her. She wishes she could somehow bottle this feeling and carry it around with her. Hold it close on the days when it feels far away. “How’s the tutoring going?”

“It’s going.”

“See normally when people say that they mean ‘it is going terribly’,” Janis tells her. “It’s what the waitress tells you during rush hour.”

“Fair enough,” she laughs. “But it is. It’s going good.” She hears a hum on the other end and then she somehow feels Janis smiling.

“Tell me about it.” It’s a soft request if there ever was one, and Cady sinks even further into the pillows.

And she tells her and answers her every question and laughs every snarky comment. She closes her tear-filled eyes, just to try something and when she does, it feels as though Janis is lying next to her, her face just inches from hers, her hand close enough to touch.

                                                                                               *****

She goes into school early the next day, when the sky is still dark-ish and the streetlamps are still on. Her breath forms in smoke in front of her face, dancing before her eyes. At some point last year, when she was still pre-Plastic, Janis blew in her face and played at being a dragon. She smiles at the memory, her cheeks warming as she does.

The janitor must have just turned on the heat when she comes in, her hair damp from the shower that just started as she was crossing the courtyard. She heaves a heavy sigh as she pulls it into a ponytail and heads towards her locker. Her schedule is pretty packed for today, her free periods used for tutoring and then a Mathletes meeting after school, so thankfully she had packed a substantial lunch for today.

Maybe she should have taken a snack bar too, she thinks as she judges the paper schedule taped to her locker door. Or at least an extra bottle of water.

“You’re crazy,” she mutters to herself. That’s what the water fountains are there for aren’t they? With her backpack balancing on her knee, she starts taking what she needs and putting them away again, knowing she won’t have time to get to her locker until lunch at the earliest. Her shoulder twinges as she puts it on and she gives it a rub. It’s fine, really. Nothing she can’t handle.

She throws the other strap on, closes the locker and turns to make her way to homeroom. She wasn’t so early that the school was deserted, but none of her crowd are here. A few freshmen wander around the halls, now adjusted to North Shore and even building their own little groups. Cady has to admit, it hurts her heart a little when she sees them sometimes; they look like reflections of her own peers last year. Not quite as fragmented yet, but the cliches are distinct even if people can move between them. Last week the walked past a girl with flowing hair, a powerful strut and two others following in her wake and she had to do a double take to make sure she wasn’t actually walking past Regina.

“Cady!”

“Woah!”

This time she actually was walking past Regina, nor more accurately nearly walking into her. She catches herself just in time and backs up, not out of fear, just out of courtesy, the way she’d treat anyone else.

“Sorry,” she breathes. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Do you ever?” she asks but there’s no cruelty in the words anymore. Cady laughs and adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Regina’s hair is tied back in a ponytail and a gym bag sits on her shoulder. Cady winces. “Early morning practice?”

Regina gags and sticks out her tongue, giving Cady all the answer she needs.

“Running around in the mud at 7am, great way to spend a day,” she moans. “It wasn’t too bad, really.” Cady raises in eyebrow, sceptical, and Regina huffs a laugh. “Why does the soccer team get the nice, warm gym and we’re made to practice outside.”

“It’ll benefit you in the long run,” Cady reasons. “You know, practicing in the elements. You watch, the soccer team won’t have that advantage and then they’ll screw up their first game.”

“I hope so,” she says firmly. “They deserve it for putting us through that. Walk with me to my locker so I can put this away?”

“Sure.”

“I also think it’s because we’re girls,” Regina goes on. “And Mr Duvall doesn’t want to give girls’ sports the same level of importance he gives boys’ sports.”

“Oh come on, Mr Duvall isn’t sexist,” she tells her.

“Maybe, but the sports department, I’m not so sure.” Cady snorts a laugh, but it’s only a seconds-long distraction from the tight feeling in her stomach. Despite the easy conversation with Regina, there’s something bubbling below the surface and she can’t be the only one who feels it. She definitely isn’t. And the more she tries to ignore it, the more it lingers. By the time they reach her locker, Cady feels it standing over them, breathing down both of their necks and she can’t ignore it any more.

“So… I heard you talked to Janis.”

It comes out like an accusation and Regina freezes at it. her mouth falls open and eyes remain forwards, trained on a spot in her locker.

Janis had asked if she was mad, and she wasn’t. At least she thinks she wasn’t. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling and it’s a not a good feeling when you don’t know anything, let alone your own feelings. Regardless of that, she just offers a casual shrug when Regina finally faces her.

“Um… yeah,” she says. “She just needed someone to talk to. Believe me I was as shocked as you are.”

“I’m not shocked,” she says. “That much.”

“It’s okay,” she tells her. “Really.” She closes the door and leans up against it, her jaw set. “Are you okay?”

She nods, the word ‘yes’ forming in her throat but not making it to her lips. Regina lets out a long breath and drums her fingers on her arm.

“It definitely sucks,” she says.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Regina opens her mouth a fraction, but before she can say whatever it is, her phone pings and with it, Cady’s heartbeat triples, quadruples, in less than a second. Without warning, every possible scenario flies through her head and the few seconds she takes to check drags out into hours, and Cady bites back a scream.

“It’s Karen,” she says. “She says um… flamingo emoji, bus emoji, book emoji, two girls holding hands.” She rolls her eyes fondly. “I can’t decipher any of this, can you?”

It’s only when she looks at her that Cady realises she hasn’t breathed yet. She nods and looks at the screen as she tries to remember how her lungs work.

“Um, well…. She uses the two girls holding hands emoji when she’s with Gretchen,” she mumbles. “And then she’s on the bus, probably doing homework.” She hands Regina back her phone. “Not sure what the flamingo means.”

“Okay…” Her voice trails off as she puts her phone back into her jacket, her gaze never leaving Cady. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She winces at the sound of her voice; how high it is. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Regina doesn’t answer exactly, but the face she makes says ‘literally every reason under the sun’. Cady runs a hand through her hair and shakes it out.

“I’m fine,” she tells her. “Really. Just a little worked up.”

“Oh.” She straightens up and smiles, and for a second Cady sees a glimpse of the old Regina, only minus the malice. All the sweetness she feigned when they met seems real now, but her pull is as strong as ever. “Well, come on, I’ll walk you to your home room.”

Cady nods and lets Regina put her arm around her and talk whatever at her, her nerves calming but never disappearing for a moment, sparking under the surface of her skin all because of one text message that wasn’t even to her or from Janis. The floor she walks on feels like it’s made of glass, and she keeps her footsteps light so that it won’t break.

As they walk, she slips her hand into her jacket pocket and taps her phone, waiting to feel it buzzing On her very first day here, way back when, she had listened intently when Principal Duvall told her that phones were to be kept switched off for the school day and only meant to be used in an emergency. She took that seriously, so seriously that seeing Janis with her phone out at lunch nearly gave her a heart attack. She only began breaking that rule when she was full plastic and that was only to take silly pictures of herself or check her socials.

At least she’s breaking rules for a good reason this time around.

Her hand barely leaves her pocket all throughout the day. It’s either in it or sitting around it, tapping the back of her phone to make sure it hasn’t disappeared on her and she doesn’t-she can’t calm down all day, not even for a second. Not even when she gets to calculus, which is meant to be her safe haven. No amount of numbers in all their beautiful logic can calm the frantic humming of her mind, nor can it quell the incessant tapping of her pencil against the desk.

She mumbles an apology to her desk partner Jason before he goes and sees him rolling his eyes when he thinks he’s out of eyesight. She heaves her bag onto her shoulder and heads for the door with her books clutched against her chest, her hair falling forwards past her face. She’s just a foot away, maybe less, when she’s caught with a hand on her shoulder.

“Cady!” When she turns, Ms Norbury is standing behind her, wearing the same kind of warm, inviting smile she had the first day she met, the kind that makes Cady feel like she could collapse into her arms and tell her everything. “You got a minute kid?”

“Sure.” It’s lunchtime anyway so the room isn’t being used and her friends won’t mind her being a few minutes late. She follows Norbury and perches herself on the desk, her feet swinging slightly. Norbury raises an eyebrow, but she doesn’t react. Perks of being a Mathlete, Cady guesses.

“So… how are you doing?” she asks, leaning on her own desk. She doesn’t quite meet Cady’s eyes and the tension in her grip on the wood tells her everything she needs to know.

“You know, don’t you?” she asks. “About Janis.”

“Her parents like keeping the school updated,” she answers. “Keep us in the loop. It’s nice of them.” Cady hums and after hours of her trying to push it down, the lump in her throat only grows bigger and threatens to choke her. “And I know it’s hard on you.” Another hum and Cady wonders if she’ll actually be able to do full sentences today. Norbury cocks her head, biting her lips a little. “Cady? You okay?”

“Fine,” she says. She looks down at her clasped hands, only noticing for the first time how ragged and short her nails are. It must have been months since she last picked at them, but now the skin is red and raw and there’s barely room to put nail polish on them if she wanted to. She swallows thickly and allows a little more to creep out. “It’s hard, I guess.”

“You guess?” she asks. Cady almost smiles at that and pulls her cardigan tighter around her. “It’s okay, Cady.”

“Yeah.” She presses her palms together tightly, her shoulders squeezed tightly.

“And I’m sure you’ve been told this by just about everyone in this place,” she says. “But if you ever need anything… I’m here. If you need to talk or anything.” The image of her and Norbury having a heart to heart in the math supply cupboard flashes through Cady’s mind and while it’s funny, it’s not exactly far-fetched. After Janis and Damian, Norbury is probably the person she trusts most, and who knows her best. She may not have had every detail of last year, but she saw enough to piece it together. She was the one who got her out of it really. Showed her who she really is. “Or if you need to lessen your workload-”

“No.” She shakes her head so firmly and so quickly that her neck twinges. Norbury’s mouth falls open, a near-silent ‘oh’ escaping it. “I don’t need- I don’t want any kind of special treatment.” She shifts on the desk, pressing her hands together. “Thanks.”

“It’s not any kind of special treatment, Cady,” she tells her. “If you’re sure-”

“I am.” Her voice is so much stronger than she thought. And stronger than she feels. “Besides, I’m handling it. And it’s-it’s good isn’t it? All this work?” She shrugs. “Keeps my mind busy I guess.” Norbury nods, an understanding smile on her face.

“Well, if there’s anything you ever want to talk about, I’m here.”

“I appreciate it, Ms Norbury. Really.” She feels there should be a hug here, hell, she sort of wants there to be a hug here, but they’re both still in school and school rules still apply. So for now, the soft smiles they give each other are enough.

“Okay you run along now,” she says, making a shooing motion with her hand as she does so. “Don’t want to hold you back from your lunch.”

She huffs a laugh at that and readies herself to go, but when she looks at the door, all she feels is this sinking feeling in her chest. Suddenly the hallway isn’t made of linoleum tiles but of quicksand and walking to the cafeteria won’t kill her, but it may take a lot out of her. In here she feels the safest she has all day, away from people’s prying eyes even if they are well-meaning. She could go and eat in the bathroom, but bathrooms are breeding grounds for gossip and she’s not that pathetic, not any more.

“Ms Norbury?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Can I…. can I eat in here?” She doesn’t know if eating lunch in her math classroom with your teacher is better or worse than eating in a bathroom stall, but she’s willing to try. Her head snaps up, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “I mean, it’s fine if you can’t, you’re probably busy.”

But her face breaks out into a smile, and she puts her lunchbox on the desk and nods.

“Of course you can hon,” she says. “And as it would happen, I was just about to whack on a podcast. You ever listened to Mathematically Speaking?” Cady shakes her head. “Oh you are in for a treat. Come on, I’ll put the volume up. Don’t just sit there, get out your food!”

Cady grins and takes out her own lunch before sending Damian a quick text about a lunchtime study group. Odds are he’ll figure out that it isn’t true sooner or later, but odds are also that he’ll understand. She crosses her legs on the table and leans on her elbows as Ms Norbury explains everything about the podcast and her failed attempts to get the rest of the math teachers into it. It may be considered geeky, to spend lunchtime sitting listening to people talk about math, but Cady loves it all the same, and more importantly, she can breathe with relative ease throughout it and she only worries when she door opens for two seconds, only for it to be another teacher asking to borrow textbooks. The best part is that she can have her phone sitting in her lap, in full view, and Norbury doesn’t even question it.

At the end of the day she’s almost tempted to skip the Mathlete meeting. Despite her brief reprise at lunch, the whole day had sucked all the energy out of her, leaving her feeling like a shadow by her last class. Not just feeling, when she went to the bathroom she saw the dark smudges beneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin and the mess that is her hair. Even if it’s nothing a bit of borrowed make up can’t fix, it still shocks her quite a bit. Maybe she could fake sick and get out of it. Maybe she wouldn’t need to fake it, she thinks.

But the idea is tossed aside quickly, so much so that she nearly scowls at herself in the mirror. The Mathletes needed a leader after Kevin G graduated and she’s taken up that position. Besides if Kevin knew that she was even thinking about ditching he’d be mortified. Betrayed more than any human being has been betrayed and he would certainly tell her as much. Probably with a Star Wars analogy.

So after a moment spent alone in the bathroom, Cady lifts up their chin, reapplies their make-up and heads off to the classroom, powering through the halls as heads turn in their direction. Like everything that happens here, news about Janis must have spread by now. Someone says something to someone, who says it to another someone, who says it to another someone. And on and on it goes until everyone knows, even the people who never knew her. But they know she’s Cady’s girlfriend and the weight of the pitying looks propels them faster down the hall until they practically stumbles through the door.

“Hey Africa,” Tyler greets from where he sits on the desk, his legs crossed. The nickname has stuck eve if they’re far from ‘the new kid’. It feels nice, strangely, although they’d hate it coming from anyone else. It keeps her connected to her roots. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Right,” she sighs. “Today’s agenda.” They shake their head and would slap themselves if they were alone. This isn’t time for emotional Cady, or distracted Cady. This is time for Mathlete Captain Cady, the Cady who has everything organised down to the bathroom schedule and who walks into team meetings with a smile and a bounce. That’s the Cady they chose to be their captain, and she took on that mantle with pride. The only issue is that Captain Cady seems to be having trouble coming to the front right now. “Um… so last week we looked at strategies for our next contest. And we started going back over trig.” They let out a breath, their hands steadying. Maybe this will be easier than they thought. “And at least we’ve gotten past qualifiers now.”

“Yeah but that was the easy part,” a girl speaks up, an AP Calc girl whose name Cady should know. Something beginning with a J, they think, but the rest is blank.

“Yes thank you for that,” they mumble. Heat prickles at their back and they shift from one foot to the other, their chest suddenly tight. Maybe it’s the running they did to get here. “Um… can we open a window here?”

“A window, it’s freezing.”

“Okay, strike that then,” they mumble. They take out their planner and flip through it, the paper slipping through their sweaty fingers until they find the right page. “Okay so for today I thought we’d move on to statistics. I know a lot of us have that down, but we can’t afford to slip up on it, especially since, as we saw on the videos last week, that tends to be the area most teams ignore.” They smile and wipe their hand on their jeans. “Sound good?”

“You’re the boss,” Tyler says, and they’re almost put at ease by it.

“Okay, so I got out these packs and, oh shuck!” They slap their palm to their head in an almost comedic fashion. “I’m so sorry guys, I completely forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“The packs,” they groan. “I downloaded these amazing packs from the Internet, made by this guy who was the captain of his school’s winning mathlete team, and I printed them out, I-I think I printed them out, and they’re either in my room or in my locker.” They try to rack their brain, but their head feels far too warm and everything is disorganised; a jumbled, incoherent mess that they can’t even hope to sift through. In their mind’s eye they see a half-formed picture of them putting them in their locker, but they can’t work out if it’s real or just wishful thinking. “I-I know I printed them but I can’t remember where I put them.” They run their hand through their hair two, three times and when they blink, there’s the unmistakable feeling of tears in their eyes.

Oh God, they can’t be crying. Not over this.

“Hey, Cady,” Tyler says softly. He’s risen from his seat, his hand extended towards her. “It’s okay. Really. I mean our next contest isn’t until when?”

“When?” they echo. “Oh, oh God, um…” They flip through the planner again, through pages of carefully glitter pen. “Oh, it’s not for another three weeks.”

“See, so we’re good,” he says. They nod and try to take a deep breath, giving Tyler a grateful nod. “Okay, so for this week, I say we start going over statistics. Start from the basics and work our way up. We all have our textbooks right?” The room nods at her, but it doesn’t do anything for them. They wish more than anything they could collapse into one of those chairs and bury their head in numbers, to let someone else take the reins for once, but unfortunately, that’s not in the cards for the captain. Instead they take out a whiteboard pen and open the textbook, swallow the lump in their throat, and get to work.

Ms Norbury slips in a bit later, coffee in hand and mumbling an apology about a staff meeting having ran late. By that time they’re already half way through the chapter and Cady has managed to keep the fact that they’re completely falling apart mostly under wraps. For once they’re thankful that so few people join Mathletes. They’re not so sure how they’d fare in front of a bigger crowd than this.

They call for a break not long after, the rest of the room leaning back in their chairs and exhaling loudly, heads dangling backwards. They all love Mathletes, but as they days get shorter and school piles up, they take all the breaks they can get. Cady tries to follow her peers’ leads, to let their shoulders drop or to even exhale, but their body won’t obey. They feel like a wound-up toy, just one turn of a key away from snapping and falling apart.

“Cady?” Ms Norbury appears at their side, hand on their shoulder and concern in her eyes. “You doing okay?”

“Fine,” they say. They push their hair out of their face, wincing at their fingers catch on the knots. “Fine. I um….” They try to breathe, but they feel like someone is pushing down on their chest and as they look around, the room seems to shrink. “Uh… I’m going to go check my locker. I think there’s some- you weren’t here but I said I printed out some stuff and I might have left it in there. So I’ll-I’ll go check.”

The hallways aren’t much better- the walls far too close no matter where they stand and the ceiling pressing down over their head. At least they’re alone, no other people to push past or questions to avoid.

They pull to a stop beside their locker, their clammy hand on their chest, finding their heartbeat frantic below their shirt. A small, pained whimper escapes them and a metallic taste hangs around in their mouth. They lean against the locker and inhale and exhale until they feel some degree of normal. Maybe they should have skipped Mathletes today, regardless of what Kevin would have said.

Slowly, they reach into their back pocket and pull out their phone, the screen cold and soothing to their warm skin. When the screen lights up, the one thing they find is an email from a magazine they subscribe to. No messages, not even when they go through every social media they have to double check.

Trembling slightly, they hold the phone against their chest. No news is sometimes good news-that’s what their mom likes to say. Lately it often feels like any news is bad news, at least on the Janis front. And they’re just waiting from update to update with a growing feeling of dread. They don’t know if and when something will happen, if tomorrow morning they’ll wake up and find that she’s either better or worse, if this ends or it goes on. And it’s exhausting, all this waiting. Especially since if something does happen, they probably won’t be the first to know.

“Cady?” They nearly jump into the ceiling at the sound of their name. When they look up it’s not Ms Norbury they find but Tyler, wringing his hands awkwardly. Their name almost sounds unfamiliar in his voice, having been called ‘Africa’ so many times. Tyler holds up his hands awkwardly, either in surrender or defence. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” they say. They turn around and fiddle with the locker combination, their fingers slipping and fumbling around it. “I was just-”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he says. “Um… look Cady, some of us where talking.” The hair on the back of her neck pricks up at that and her fingers freeze. “We know you’re under a lot of pressure right now. I mean, we all are but…. I think you’re going through more than the rest of us.” They hum, trying to sound as casual as possible, but in reality their knees are shaking. “And you know… if you wanted to maybe step down or take up a co-captain… that’d be fine.”

“No.” Their voice is surprisingly strong given how weak they feel. They turn around to face Tyler, their hair swinging behind them, and their hands curl into fists. “Look Tyler I know you mean well… but I’m not stepping down.”

“Hey, it’s not like that,” he tells them. “You’re definitely one of the best captains we’ve ever had. I mean you’ve got us so much further already. Kevin picked a good one.” He smiles at them then, and Cady can’t help but smile back, even if it’s muted. “I’m just saying that I know you’re going through a lot with Janis right now. Maybe taking some stuff off your plate might help you out.” He shrugs. “We just want you to be okay. We’re not kicking you off the team, Africa. We’d be idiots to do that.”

Cady bites the inside of their cheek, the tension slowly releasing from their hands. Tyler isn’t not like some others in this school, he might be a bit of a Dude sometimes, but he’s sweet and he’s honest, even if it’s brutally, and most of all he cares about them, about everyone. He looks out for people. He doesn’t talk down to people, not intentionally.

And he might have a point.

Kind of.

“Thank you,” they say eventually. “But… no. I’m fine. I’ve got this. I’m just…. Adjusting.” They cross their arms over their chest. “It’s been a rough day.”

“Yeah… I heard,” he says, his voice small. Cady nods. They don’t ask how, they’re pretty sure they don’t want to know. “But… if you’re sure you’ve got this.”

“I am. Besides,” they grin. “You losers wouldn’t last a week without me.”

“Oh that’s for sure.” A giggle passes between them and Cady turns around and opens their locker. As luck would have it, they find the folder sitting on the shelf and pull it out, waving it in front of Tyler.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” They close the door and slide up to him, the folder held against their chest. “Just a little wobble. But I’m fine, really.”

“Aye, aye captain,” he says.

“But I appreciate the offer,” they tell him. “Now come on, we should get back before people start thinking that we’re off making out somewhere.”

“I don’t think anyone would do that,” he says, offering his arm. They take it, chuckling, and the two set off down the hall. “They know you’re with Janis. And that I am a confirmed bachelor, single by choice.”

“Yeah, everyone else’s choice,” they tease, but it’s good natured and Tyler laughs at it, and agrees. Secretly, Cady is glad he offered his arm, not just because it lightens the mood, but because they’re not sure they could make it down to the classroom on their own.

“Hey… you know that we’re all here for you, right?” he asks. “Me, the rest of the crew. We’ve all got your back. You’re one of us, Africa.”

“I’d like to think so. Otherwise the jacket was a huge waste of a purchase,” they respond. Then they rest their cheek on Tyler’s shoulder and sniffles. Tyler, of course, he doesn’t judge. “Thank you.”

It’s dark enough when they get home, winter has dug its claws in tightly, and the rain from this morning has made a reappearance. Their mom greets them with a hug and a pat on the head and tells them dinner won’t be long. They grin and thank her but ask if they can have it in their room.

“Just got a lot of work to do,” they say. In reality, they hardly touch the plate, and sneak it down an hour later mostly full. They didn’t lie, they do have a lot of work to do, deadlines closer than they’d like, but they find themselves unable to so much as pick up a pencil, instead sitting on their bed and staring at the wall, their eyes heavy and their soul heavier. Their phone sits in their lap and they sit on edge, waiting for it to vibrate or light up and give them something, anything. It stays silent and they finally give up.

They climb into bed earlier than usual, and sleep comes almost as soon as they close their eyes.

[paladin-andric]

Jotober, Day 7: Enchanted

A follow up to last year’s Spell! This is a what-if. Based off of a “bad ending” where Mazid’s spell doesn’t backfire, and now he’s the victor, the village entirely at his mercy...but are things as grim as they seem?

There was once a brave reptilian named Nasir. This young man was the son of a famous heroine, known throughout the land for her unwavering valor in battle.

Soon however, tragedy struck. The humble village she was from had been harassed by a dark wizard, and at the same time, the soil grew barren, and crops failed. She withered up and died, as if from a curse.

The young man, driven with determination to avenge his mother, struck out for the wizard’s tower and struck him down, saving his home and everyone he cared for. He was celebrated as a hero, just like his mother, and had a promising future ahead of him.

However, it was with a fair amount of luck that he completed his mission. The wizard, Mazid, hadn’t yet mastered the art of polymorphing, hoping whatever it turned Nasir into would render him harmless. It had turned him into a griffin, and soon enough the wizard was undone by his own power.

But what if that hadn’t happened? What if Mazid had lucked out and made good on his threat to make the young warrior his familiar? How would things have played out?

…

A large eagle flew out from under the wall, soaring towards the rooftop. The eagle was a deep brown all over, with piercing eyes that seemed to hold more knowledge than a simple animal should…

The bird landed on the wall along the side of the rooftop, eyeing the man leaning against it.

“You summoned me?” the bird spoke, eyes downcast.

The wizard before him sighed. “Yes, yes. You know I did.”

The wizard was a reptilian with pale green scales, and a blue set of robes that covered everything but his head. The robes had a large collar and fanciful decorations along it, showing off that it was a fine piece of tailorship.

“Well?”

Mazid turned to the eagle and snarled at it. “Don’t speak to me in that tone.”

The eagle remained silent.

He upped the ante. “Or perhaps you need another lesson in the water chamber, Nasir?”

The eagle’s eyes widened, and his tone quickly changed. “N-no, no!”

“Then are we in agreement?”

“...yes.”

“Good.”

Mazid had performed a grand ritual with the helpless, transformed man after defeating him through a stroke of dumb luck. He had bound the warrior’s body and soul to him for a limited time. These rituals were extremely taxing, and he was nowhere near the level to allow a permanent binding. That wasn’t too big a deal, though, as long as he kept renewing the ritual every few months. The ritual to keep Nasid bound in soul anyway, as a final reinforcing of the polymorph left it permanent.

Nasir was stuck as an eagle, and was bound to Mazid in several ways. He had to remain close by, and he couldn’t disobey orders directly.

That didn’t mean he had total control over the man, though. His thoughts were still his own, and he resented his situation with a fierce passion.

Mazid was not skilled in the magical arts of mental manipulation. He focused on altering the physical, rather than the mental. It was how he learned how to bind and polymorph the would-be-hero before him, and how he had learned how to curse the crops of his village.

For now he had relied on two old fashioned, non-magical solutions to his servant’s disobedience; punishment and mental manipulation. It worked surprisingly well, and Nasid’s once fiery temperament had been broken down until he was quiet and servile.

He now only offered feeble, half-hearted resistance that quickly melted away at the slightest threat. It had been a lengthy and stress-inducing process, but Mazid was pleased to see the great progress he had made with his “familiar”. He now acted like one, scrambling to meet him at his mental summons and carrying out his orders without scathing words.

“We’re leaving on a mission, little eagle, and you are to accompany me.”

“Where shall we go?”

The wizard cracked a grin. “Oh, you’re going home, little eagle.”

The avian servant bawked at that. “Y-you mean…”

“Oh yes. We’re going to Alsim.”

Nasir shook his head violently backing away. “N-no, please...please don’t…”

Mazid cocked a brow. “Hmm? What was that, pet?”

“D-don’t...don’t hurt them...please…”

“Oh, I have little interest in slaying your friends, little eagle. Have I not told you my ambition?”

“To become the despot of Abinsil,” Nasid replied robotically.

“Yes. I have my fortress, but a king is more than his castle; he is his kingdom. I need the grain, and taxes, and trade and manpower the surrounding land provides...and small little Alsim will be my first county. Once I have the power, I will absorb the nearby towns and cities, and soon...I will march on the capitol.”

Nasir shivered.

“What’s the matter? I told you the deal. They will be my subjects. Nothing more.”

“D-do you...promise?”

The wizard snarled again. “I SAID they will be my subjects...unless they resist me. If you truly want to save them, show them they must bend the knee. Understand?”

“...yes.”

Nasid was quiet on the journey there, more so than usual. The wizard probed, and the truth emerged.

“D-do I have to enter the village?”

“What’s the matter?” Mazid asked mockingly, “I thought you missed home!”

“Please...please let me stay outside. I promise I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Why are you being so difficult, Nasid?”

“...”

“Answer me!”

“I...I don’t want them to see me like this,” Nasid admitted, “I don’t want them to know what I’ve become, how I serve you. I-it’s...it would break their hearts. Please, Lord Mazid, please don’t make me.”

The wizard frowned. The eagle looked like it would have burst into tears, if it could have. His voice was so weak and broken, timidly pleading for this last bit of dignity…something about it woke a softer side in Mazid.

In addition, he’d just called him Lord. The warrior, while broken, was still hesitant to fully accept being the lesser of the two. He had yet to willingly call the wizard his master...and this was a step in the right direction.

“...I apologize, Nasid, but no. You must come. I have need of you.”

Despite his refusal, his gentle answer seemed to calm the eagle. “Why?”

“Precisely the reason it hurts you to do so. We must show them what the price of defiance is. If you truly want no harm to come to them, you must batter their resolve, so that they fall in line. It may hurt you, but it may save them...and you are the selfless type, are you not?”

Nasid blinked, in disbelief. “M-Mazid…?”

“Well? Are you going to help me take this village without bloodshed or not?”

“Y-yes, of course!”

It hurt even worse than he had imagined.

His own father couldn’t bear to look at him, after discovering the truth. He was inconsolable to the rest of the village, and got violent when Nasid himself tried to approach, even as the eagle poured his heart out over how much he loved his father. Both of them left that encounter with heavy hearts.

Next, the girl he loved, the one he’d promised he’d return victorious or dead spat venom. She screamed how he was a snake, a traitor, less than worthless.

It got so bad she attacked Mazid and he nearly drowned her in flames...but Nasid interfered.

He begged for mercy on the people’s behalf, promising that there would be no more trouble if he didn’t raise a hand against them.

It worked. Mostly. The woman he once considered himself in love with had to be jailed, too fierce and furious at the wizard to be convinced to stand down. After pleading from Nasid, and threats from Mazid, the village fell into line, agreeing bitterly to the terms that they now had to send their food and taxes to Mazid rather than the king.

Mazid quickly lifted the curse from the land, allowing the village’s harvest to flourish. Now that it wasn’t resisting him, there was no need to hamper it.

Thus Mazid’s rebellion began, a lone wizard claiming lordship over the surrounding lands. He made a few gains, but the tide quickly turned against him.

The kingdom had plenty of wizards and sorcerers at its disposal...several much more skilled than him as well.

Much time passed in a state of war, Mazid getting more and more absorbed in magical study, as he hoped to discover deeper magic powers that could help turn the tide of the war.

One day, as Mazid and his servant watched the tax collectors press their subjects for their monthly payments, Nasid finally mustered the courage to ask the wizard a simple question.

“...why?”

Mazid eyed the eagle warily. “Hmm?”

“Why did you do it?”

“I’ve done much, Nasid. You’ll have to point to something.”

“You know what you did!” the eagle cried.

Mazid blinked. The former reptilian hadn’t managed to scrape up any bit of the old fire in his heart for nearly a year now. This was a sudden and drastic turn from the docile familiar.

“How dare you?!” Mazid bellowed, standing up and staring down at the sandswept eagle.

“How dare I?! How dare YOU!” it screeched, “You...YOU!”

Mazid was shaking now. “Do you want to go back to the early days, to the water and snakes?!”

“Do it!” the familiar challenged, “Kill me!”

Nasid used to be brave, but he had always wanted to live. The wizard learned early on that he did in fact fear death.

The reptilian took a step back, eyes narrowing. “What’s come over you…? You were good for so long…”

“I can’t take it!” Nasid yelled, “I needled you to be good to these people and you did so! I asked you to treat others with kindness and you did so! You have the potential to be good! Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this?!”

“I want to be king,” Mazid offered, quieter than his usual self, “You know that.”

“Why did you have to kill her to do that?” Mazid gave the eagle a confused look. “Her?”

“You know who I speak of.”

The wizard shook his head. “I’ve yet to kill anyone but soldiers in this war.”

“No...no, you’re lying! You killed her! You killed her and I had to watch her die!”

“...what on Earth are you talking about?”

“Have you forgotten your victim already?!” Nasid asked, distressed, “You don’t even remember her...so cruel…”

“No...no, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Mazid said loudly, “Who?! Who died?!”

“Mother!” Nasid cried, “You killed my mother! I loved her, and you took her from me! That’s why I came to stop you! Why I hate you!”

The wizard took a moment to think over the situation. He ran it through his head time and again.

“What?! What is it now?! Are you going to laugh?! Hit me?! Throw me into the pit?! Do it! Free me from this torment, villain!”

“...Nasid?”

“What?!”

Mazid shook his head. “...I never killed your mother.”

The eagle actually froze for a moment, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“It’s true. I wouldn’t hide it if I did.”

“B-but...but...I saw it.”

“What did you see?”

The eagle looked off into the distance, into the sandy dunes of the desert. “Your curse...it made her wither away into nothing. She lay in bed suffering for so long before you ended her completely.”

The eagle spoke the words so tearfully, reliving the moments from that past life. Of the family he loved, unable to be saved.

“Nasid...my curse killed the crops, not people. I never targeted it on anyone.”

Nasid turned and looked up at him. Despite the avian visage, he seemed truly lost and confused. “But...she withered away, shriveling and dying...just like the crops you cursed…”

The wizard looked at the eagle in surprise. “Nasid...did your mother...did she ever eat Conwei?”

Nasid looked down for a moment, puzzling it together. “Wait...yes, yes she said she liked cooking with it.”

The eagle looked up at the wizard, only to see him staring down in horror.

He cocked his head in a very birdlike manner. “Mazid? What?”

The reptilian groaned. “Oh, by God and his Prophet. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

The bird’s gaze narrowed. “You DID do it!”

“Not on purpose.”

Nasid was confused again. “What?”

“Nasid...Conwei is an ingredient used in all manner of alchemy. Its use is essential and pronounced in nearly every potion and tonic known to the world.”

“Why does this matter?”

“Because...of its use. Its used in magical mixtures because it absorbs magic around it like a hungry sponge. It draws effects from other things and brings them out in a most powerful way. Nasid...when your mother ate that food…”

The eagle quivered. “S-she...she took on the curse…”

The bird stared down at the sands, at his own two taloned feet. His world had been thrown upside down. He felt sick, dizzy, helpless and alone...so very alone…

“Nasid.”

The man looked up, and he saw not the cold face he was familiar with...but a face of deep sadness and regret.

“I’m sorry.”

Nasid sniffled. “M-Mazid…?”

“I didn’t want this to happen. I...I didn’t...I…”

The pair looked away from one another. Both of them found it hard to muster the courage to continue, but after a minute of silence, Nasid spoke up.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Mazid was taken aback. He stared down at the eagle, looking up at him with those big, wise eyes. “Nasid…?”

“You didn’t mean to.”

The wizard let out a short laugh. He shook his head, arms behind his back. “Hmm...to think things would take a turn like this. To think such a simple misunderstanding pitted us against one another…”

Nasid paused for a moment. This was a lot to ask, but…

“Master Mazid?”

The wizard perked up. He’d never admitted that Mazid was his master before. “Y-yes? What is it?”

“Do you think...do you think you could...turn me back?”

“Nasid…”

“I promise I’ll still follow you!” the eagle said hurriedly, “I just want my body back is all! I’ll still help in exchange for it!”

Mazid looked away from the eagle, a tense sigh signifying something was wrong.

“Err...Mazid…?”

“Nasid...I’m sure you would continue following me, but...I actually don’t know how to dispel binding rituals yet.”

The eagle’s hopeful expression melted away in an instant. “O-oh…”

“...besides, you still have some work to do for me. The war is grueling, and I need a pair of stealthy eyes to slip into fortresses and watch my enemies.

“I see...very well. That’s how it will be, then.”

Mazid gestured for the eagle to perch upon his arm. He did so without hesitation, and the wizard cracked a grin.

“Let’s go win us a war, Nasid.”

“At once.”

Months passed. Mazid did not emerge victorious. The enemy was far too powerful, and both outnumbered and outmatched him. Eventually he was forced to abandon Alsim and even his own tower. He vanished into the night, the army of Abinsil finding no traces of resistance when they arrived.

And so things returned to normal. The rebellion was defeated, and peace returned to the land. The life went on.

But every once in a while, Nasid’s father would find a package on his doorstep. Inside, he would often find gold, gems and other expensive things left as gifts. He did not question where they came from. He already knew.

As for the others? Once in a while, travelers would speak of a wandering wizard, on a search to discover a method to break transforming magics. Behind him, his loyal eagle always followed.

Unbeknownst to him, Nasid’s encouragements for him to be better, be kinder and use his powers for good actually rubbed off on him. He was a far different person than he had once been. Now, that he knew how people reacted when he was kind, that he had someone that liked him, would listen to him...his way changed steadily, until his old ambitions were but a distant memory.

Nasid found himself in a better position soon enough. Without all the fighting and lording, Mazid had him do little more than accompany him on his long journey, the journey to find one skilled in purging magic. They swapped stories, shared food, and laughed together, their past hatred forgotten.

He may have been cursed, but to him it was less extreme, less saddening than a curse.

Like he was simply enchanted.

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