#this is the best information ive ever fucking collected while researching

[cursedwithwords]

Okay I've never actually looked into Fleamont and Euphemia, and generally speaking I take canon with a grain of salt anyways (I pick and choose what I like) but i was researching Fleamont for a future chapter and-

It is hilarious and SO vindicating that it's CANON Fleamont got into fights at school, like that is so fucking funnyyyyyy.

Fleamont in the afterlife watching Lily Luna get into daily fist fights at Hogwarts (and winning them):

Fleamont in the afterlife when James Sirius got into that fistfight with two Ravenclaws in chapter 7:

Fleamont in the afterlife when Albus Severus says he wants to hex Caleb Gaton within an inch of his life:

He's so proud of his great-grand-babies 🤧

[myheartmightexplode]

Tarsus iv

Summary

Big, black holographic letters before a plain white wall. A name seared into his memory like a fresh burn scar that itched, stung and roared when touched, followed by the most bullshitty question he had ever heard, in neat, 20 % transparent letters:

TARSUS IV - Were Kodos' actions defendable?

Anyone who has ever been in a class, has usually met that one guy.

'That one guy' is the guy who, without fail, doesn't arrive a second before he has to. And after a week or so of finding the barely-in-time arrival annoying, you just get used to it, and stop paying it attention altogether.

Therefore, no student really cared when one infamous James T. Kirk deftly slid into the auditorium to the beep of an attendance card and the hiss of the doors sealing shut behind him. This was also why his best friend, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, didn't have to follow his eye roll up with any kind of comment; as Interspecies Ethics 241 approached its end, any snide comments he could come up with had all been said once or twice before.

Neither he, nor Spock - a vulcan exchange student that decided to stay behind on Earth after his semester was up, and also the only of Jim's bedroom encounters with aliens that stayed tangled in the sheets - started when blonde hair and a cheerful grin climbed not as much as leaned over the two back rows of the auditorium and shoved them apart, to press an out-of-breath kiss to green-tinged lips.

"C'mon, Bones, move over."

Bones let out a snort. "If you wanna sit with the cool kids, you gotta be on time." Jim opened his mouth to complain, but was cut off with a sharp, "it's full, Jim! Go sit in the back."

Respect and discipline was two values which Starfleet Academy held highly, so when the guest lecturer started speaking, Jim merely gave his friend an ugly look and struggled himself into the back row, splitting up a couple of friends.

He hadn't unpacked his bag or sunk into his not-nearly-cushioned-enough-but-apparently-ergonomic seat before the lecturer announced the theme of his lecture, and in the same breath, captured Jim's attention like no teacher could ever hope to do.

Big, black holographic letters before a plain white wall. A name seared into his memory like a fresh burn scar that itched, stung and roared when touched, followed by the most bullshitty question he had ever heard, in neat, 20 % transparent letters:

TARSUS IV - Were Kodos' actions defendable?

He stood, and gestured for the girl next to him to stand. When she didn't react, merely cast a look at him that asked him how stupid he was or what he was on, he grit his teeth and shoved past her, probably painfully crashing into knees and stepping on toes and backpacks on the way, but with a numbing anger, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Affronted, their teacher rose from her seat next to the controls to the holo, hissing an accusing "Cadet!" as the door next to her opened with the internal override.

Not turning away from the lecturer, who busily continued as if nothing had happened, Bones scoffed at the vague shape in the corner of his eye of a fellow student flipping the bird on their way out. Some people just had to make a scene.

When the class ended, Bones turned to see that Jim had run ahead of them, which, though uncharacteristic of him, wasn't surprising. Bones knew better than to expect Jim to act a certain way; the guy always ended up doing the exact opposite. Whether it was because he liked to fuck with people's heads, or it was just in his nature to be unpredictable, Bones had yet to find out.

Spock didn't talk a lot unless prompted to do so by Jim, so the walk to the absolutely packed cantina was a silent one. Traveling through Monday morning hallways was a game of pinball with not-quite-awake latecomers and last minute crammers reading up on whatever subject their test would be on, which meant that securing a table was a privilege of the students quick to exit class. Neither Spock nor Bones rushed needlessly, so the discovery that Jim had secured a table for the three of them was a welcome one.

How Jim had already acquired lunch as well, though, was a bit of a mystery. That Bones got an avoidance rather than an answer when he asked as much was even more of one.

"Sorry. Just had to run ahead," he answered, attempting to fit half a sandwich in his mouth and not chewing thoroughly before gulping the chunk down in a manner similar to a bird of prey in a hurry. "I skipped breakfast this morning, so I was— I'm—" Jim cut himself off with an odd expression in favor of shoving more food into his oral cavity.

Bones stared expectantly. "Starving, Jim. You can say it if you try hard enough," he teased. Spock, as per usual, misunderstood him, and saw his chance to demonstrate his knowledge to his inferior human companions.

"Indeed, it is not a word considered 'taboo' amongst humans, especially since a famine has not occurred since late 21st century, due to advanced—"

"The fuck it hasn't. Just because Vulcan and Earth has a limitless food supply, it doesn't mean that the rest of the universe is as lucky."

Spock didn't appear offended, but something about his face made it clear that he didn't appreciate much being interrupted and belittled in the same sentence. Leonard assumed that his own face was just as expressive.

"'The hell, Jim? We're talking about Earth, not the rest of the universe. What crawled up your ass and died?" He would probably be amused that Jim had managed to eat half his lunch with an impressive three bites, but was a bit too busy feeling secondhand offense from Spock when all Jim saw fit to answer with was a scoff. "Don't get all touchy over Tarsus IV. 'S only a week long subject."

Spock suppressed an instinctual wince as James' metal chair scraped over the stone floor, creating a noise that cut painfully into his ears.

"I forgot my PADD in the classroom," he stated, abandoning his lunch as he collected his jacket and bag, throwing over his shoulder as he went: "See you in Nonverbal Communication."

Spock had, and suspected McCoy had as well, seen his beloved store away his PADD in his bag as they were approaching his acquired table, and therefore immediately revealed the statement to be invalid. What reason Jim would have to make the untruthful statement, however, Spock didn't know. He decided to voice as much. "I am struggling to understand the human tendency of 'lying white.'"

"White lies, Spock. It's 'white lies.'" Bones was torn between wanting to laugh at the vulcan, and buy him an educational book on FSE expressions, but thoughts of Jim distracted him. He sighed. "Yeah, me neither."

The day after, Jim was wholly absent from class. Spock would easily admit that he did not understand this sudden behavior of James'. While his 'boyfriend' might certainly not be the most logical of humans, he could always be trusted to do his very best in every situation, and always 'come out on top.' While often absentminded, always listening. While perpetually late, never did he skip class. Unless he was not feeling well?

Jim had taken up the habit of always calling Spock sometime between 23:48 and 00.07 every evening, which meant they had half an hour for talking before Spock begun his meditation. Their nightly conversations were illogical, as they rarely had anything of importance to discuss that could not be discussed at another more favorable time, but most nights, they provided Spock with a sense of calm, which aided him in his meditation later, and he felt himself growing fond of them in a way that surely was not vulcan.

There had been no such call the previous night, and as Jim always was the one to start the conversations, Spock had taken this as a need for privacy, and refrained from calling Jim himself.

Now that the classroom doors sealed shut, preventing latecomers from disturbing the rest of the class, Spock was left unsettled. McCoy, beside him in the same seats as the previous day, looked around the room, restlessly.

Seeming not to find what he was searching for, he settled down with notes from the previous lesson in front of him. "Probably slept in," he mumbled, as the lecturer started speaking.

Unsure of how to put words to his 'gut feelings,' Spock kept quiet.

Tarsus IV was an uncomfortable topic, and also one of the reasons that Bones wasn't all that fond of the big, black, star spangled silence up there. After all, Earth was a very safe place to live, with everything you needed at least somewhere nearby, and a lot of safety nets if something should go wrong. Serving on a star ship, or at a base somewhere on a barren planet several lightyears away from civilization, you had no safety nets. Limited supplies and death in all directions.

And still, the only place he truly belonged.

Even if Tarsus IV reminded him just where he was going and how bad an idea it really was, he kept a straight face and his fingers steady when they broke up in groups for discussions, listened to witness descriptions and took notes during the lengthy lecture on theories and controversies on and around the still touchy subject. The lecturer treated the whole topic tastefully, theorizing rather then concluding, which was a rare find, as most people seeking to comment on the incident either were theorists who painted it as a cruel massacre and wholeheartedly believed Starfleet to be behind the whole thing and Kodos still alive, or professors who had found proof that everything had gone to plan, and no innocent life had been stolen.

Bones did find the guest lecturer interesting, but not half as much as Spock, it seemed. He had attempted to mock the vulcan for it, but black eyes had turned to him sharply, and merely stated that "the conflict between logic and ethics is extremely fascinating, and Dr. Durmeg seems to have conducted thorough research, with valuable findings that may be the most relevant information pertaining to the discussion of Tarsus IV ethics." Sometimes Bones wondered why he bothered.

The walk towards the lunch hall was less obstructed on a late tuesday, and for once, Spock elected to talk during the whole walk. Bones didn't know if the vulcan brain allowed vulcans to process more information at one time than the human brain did, or if it was just Spock, but the young man had come up with some 'extremely fascinating' theories that had Bones wondering if he shouldn't be right up there beside the lecturer.

He wasn't done talking when he reached the table that Jim - mysteriously - had captured a second day in a row. Gracefully sliding down into the chair opposite his boyfriend, Spock busied himself with his brought, vegetarian, lunch.

"It is most unfortunate that you missed this class," he said as he released the smell of a vulcan salad from its container. It seemed to smell pleasing to him, but Bones felt mildly nauseated by the odor. Unaware of his friend's discomfort, Spock elaborated: "The Dr. Durmeg expressed interesting and valuable viewpoints on the Tarsus IV crisis."

Jim's vague hum seemed to confirm the statement, and discourage rather than encourage an elaboration, but the tone was either lost on or ignored by Spock.

"Indeed, he made some quite convincing arguments that Kodos' action were entirely justifiable—"

"Nothing about Kodos is justifiable."

Spock seemed to consider the statement for a second, tilting his head. "Had you attended class—"

"We're through."

"I beg your pardon?"

Jim stood, locking his PADD and putting it away. "We're over, Spock."

And in the next second, Jim was gone.

Spock tried, futilely, to grab onto a sensible thought that would explain these actions. He turned to McCoy.

"I am not entirely sure that I understand the full meaning of this particular human—"

"He…" Bones narrowed his eyes at the hallway where Jim had disappeared. "He just broke up with you."

He hadn’t slept for days, hunger gnawing at his insides as if his body could eat itself inside out and survive that way, dull teeth scraping at his nerve endings as he felt as if he had a black hole inside of him that was pulling at him, rendering him immobile and whimpering.

Tara had fallen to her death, slipped somewhere she should’ve been safe but wasn’t because she was sluggish and blinded by the gnawing, and Yvonne had fallen asleep, but not woken up the next morning or the one after, and now they were down to ten, ten almost- and just-barely teenagers, nine who should’ve been safe in their beds maybe even with their parents by their sides if they were lucky and hadn’t decided to throw away the fact that they were so blessed as to be chosen for the sake of saving one single blind passenger, save him for nothing because now they were all going to die, all alone and hopeless, now that the darkness came and stole him away, as he passed out because he was too hungry and too cold and too hurting to fall asleep but his body couldn’t take anymore and—

Jim didn’t awake with screams and moans anymore, mainly because the nightmares didn’t plague him any longer, but also because they weren’t as much nightmares as bad memories, and if there was one thing Jim didn’t do, it was linger on the past. However, the experiences left him shaking, cold and with a wave of nausea washing over him as he stretched out under the sheets, just to feel the soft cotton all around him, just to forget the sensation of wet, dirty, sandy clothes clinging to his body.

The room was completely dark, but the window let in a slight shimmer of blue light that caressed his desk, the spines of the books in the book shelf, the night stand and the empty right side of the bed. With a shaking breath, he reached for his cell phone, ignoring the glaring numbers of the display in favor of thumbing through his programmed contacts, not trusting his voice to carry the voice commands correctly.

It wasn’t until his thumb rested over the name so dear to him, that he realized what he had actually done not too many hours previous.

Releasing the device with a sigh, he curled back up under the cold sheets, staring at the insides of his eyelids. Spock wouldn’t be mad, Spock would probably understand and brush it away as emotional human behavior, and act as if nothing had happened, but the sudden realization that he had broken up with Spock left him inexplicably shaken, to the core, and feeling alone and very small and like he didn’t belong.

If he didn’t cry himself to sleep, it wasn’t because the black hole in his chest didn’t hurt.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you worried before."

The observation wasn't anything but that: An observation. Interestingly enough, seeing as almost every reference McCoy made to his behavior came in the form of an insulting attempt to, presumably, elicit an emotional response.

In the same fashion, Spock voiced his observations on Jim's behavior, and the questions it had raised within him.

" I don't delude myself as to think I have gotten him pinned down, but as I've for a while studied Jim's behavioral nature, this sudden 'breaking up' seems to me unmotivated and uncharacteristically not thought through. Additionally, I have come to the conclusion that this could be related to the current lecture subject and our discussions of it, which leaves me 'puzzled.'"

Leonard cringed visibly from the strange, if not audibly painful mixture of informal and formal federation standard english. "Keep working on your colloquial english, Spock. Anyway, would've thought vulcans didn't worry."

Spock opened his mouth, to answer one remark or the other, Bones assumed, but was interrupted by the lecturer's arrival. He thought he might've caught a glimmer of disappointment in those expressionless eyes as Spock sat down next to him, swiftly entering vulcan notes into his PADD ("quite logically, seeing as the experience would not only ensure easier and more correct recalling of the lesson, while simultaneously provide exercise in FSE to GV translation.")

The belated beep of the attendance card distracted him, though, and he turned in his seat to face his romantic partner - his boyfriend - who again had arrived barely on time, his appearance speaking of an insufficient amount of sleep. Beautiful blue eyes sought his, and Jim sent him a tight smile.

When Spock returned his smile (or what he hoped came across as one) with a slight nod and warm eyes, Jim could finally breathe out, and try a happier expression. He sunk into an end seat in the back, and drew out his PADD.

He didn't particularly want to be there, but then again, he didn't particularly want to be single any longer than he had to, (although he was pretty sure Spock had no idea what "we're through" meant anyways.) So he tuned out everything else, and started drafting up an explanation that wouldn't set off Spock's internal lie-detector, or leave anything for his vulcan curiosity to latch onto.

An hour passed by without making itself known as Jim debated family problems, insomnia, existential crisis, hell, even male PMS, and he had a good thousand words worth of half-assed stories when he became aware of the silence. Not break-silence with co-student chattering, not lecture-silence with the lecturer mumbling to himself during stops in his presentation, not note-taking silence with tap-tap-tapping on PADDs. Just silence.

Worrying that he might have been asked a question he wouldn't have the faintest idea of an answer to, he drew a breath, and looked up.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't the gazes of a hundred and fifty six students, one guest lecturer and one teacher simultaneously directed at him.

He sent a look at Spock and Bones, fully intending to have them explain what was going on via eye contact, but the sad, pitying? look on Bones' face, and Spock's suddenly calculating eyes made him wary.

Turning his eyes to the front of the auditorium, his mouth went dry, and the black hole returned.

Spock returned his eyes to the hologram that had put a stop to the lesson.

Younger, thinner, paler, more haunted, hair dirtied by dust or dirt and with barely discernible tear tracks burrowing their way down a blank face, stood his boyfriend by a rescue shuttle, the Platon, the first shuttle to touch down on Tarsus IV after the Kodos incident.

The hologram was highly pixelated and taken from a low angle, and this, along with the folds of clothing that obscured the motive, suggested that a compact device had been used in secrecy, to obtain the picture. Had anyone seen it be taken, the photographer would likely be reprimanded, and the picture deleted. It should have been deleted, even if it was not discovered while it was being shot. Wouldn't there be witness protection? Wouldn't someone be hired to ensure that any picture of such nature was deleted from—

Opening classroom doors spurred him from his somewhat hysterical inner debate, and before he really was aware of his actions, he had packed up and went out the door, chasing Jim's hastily retreating back.

Leonard, on the other hand, was rooted by the sudden revelation, and didn't retrieve control of his limbs until the doors swished shut behind Spock.

Swearing under his breath, he, too, rose from his seat. Every step he made towards the door and every number on the override code felt incredibly awkward and loud in the silent room, but awkwardness wasn't really what was on his mind at the moment.

Sinking down into a corner of the fire evacuation staircase, Jim didn't really feel much. There was the insane, pressing pain in his chest and burning in his eyes, and maybe he twisted his ankle on the way here, but it felt as if his mind was just a floating mass, incapable of holding a thought, resulting in a buzz, like a wrongly configured communicator. He became aware of an arm snaking around his shoulders, uncharacteristic of Spock, and a warm hand massaging his shoulder, very characteristic of Bones, and maybe it relieved the pain a bit, or maybe it didn't.

He let out a puff of laughter. "I drafted like…" He did a headcount. "Fourteen different lies to tell you."

Spock needed no further explanation. He cocked his head "I think the appropriate expression is: 'Truth will out.'"

Jim neither corrected or laughed at the erroneous use of the saying, and instead snorted out a quick "maybe."

Leonard ground his teeth, rubbing his best friend's shoulder in what he hoped was a soothing manner, while he tried to sort out his thoughts before his mouth could spew something that went unchecked by his brain. 'I'm sorry' were the most pressing words, but they were lame, and Jim would probably appreciate them as much as he appreciated a fucking hologram that confirmed him as one of the nine Tarsus IV survivors being stretched out over the holoscreen in front of a whole class of starfleet cadets.

It wasn't very surprising that Jim was the first one to speak, because there wasn't a whole lot to say. The words surprised all of them though. Including Jim himself.

"I wasn't supposed to be on Tarsus IV," he confessed, grabbing a random thought out of his head and pulling it out of his mouth. And when he started talking, everything else came detached, easily:

"I snuck onto a ship to get over there. I was just so sick of Frank and Winona and Iowa that I figured I'd go somewhere they couldn't get to me. Somewhere they couldn't just… Go act all worried in front of the police and get them to haul my ass back into the house when I wanted to be alone."

He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision again, and dared a glance up at the two best people in the world. They radiated endless patience and comfort, and something that the black hole didn't take, blossomed in his chest.

"Uh… I was in eight or ninth grade, and there was this summer camp, or school, I guess, over at Tarsus IV. An advanced academical course for kids and language courses for parents and guardians, and everyone would live in really cramped houses. I was bored out of my mind with regular school, so I really wanted to go, but Winona wouldn't take me, and hell would freeze over before I took Frank, and I obviously couldn't go alone, so I snuck aboard the ship."

The three of them were all sitting down now, and even if he leaned a little heavily into the arm that was still slung awkwardly around his shoulders (he appreciated the gesture too much to shake it off, even if it felt strange,) it felt like they were just hanging out, talking about whatever crossed their mind. Even now that there was only really one thing on their minds.

"I hid in the room of my classmates on the ship over, and hacked into their databases while they were still unprotected to put my name into the class. I still had to hide in Thomas' closet when we got to Tarsus, though, because I couldn't figure out a way to assign myself some sort of housing, but you know. It just became a kid's game. Hiding from the parents, unless I wanted to be sent back home. Class was challenging, but that's what I went there for, so I had a really great time.

"I guess you know what happened next." He shrugged. "Food went bad, communication lines went down and Kodos decided it was time to play god. Fuck, he had like, a screen to relay public announcements on, and at first, we thought it was really funny in a very pretentious way, but…"

Jim didn't realize he was crying until a salty tear ran down into his mouth, and when the taste hit his tongue, his throat started tightening up. "Just, seeing a huge face of some guy who you really, really trusted before, because he was the fucking governor of the colony, saying that you and you and you have to kindly go die…

"This guy in my class, Kevin Riley, his parents were on the dead list. What kind of monster kills the parents of a kid, and expects the kid to go on fine?

"…When they rounded up the people who were going to die because their 'existence represented a threat to the well-being of society,' it was kind of obvious that he favored kids over adults. I have no idea what he was trying to do. Build his own society, I guess. I think he just wanted to see what he could make us do.

"Anyway, they made all the people on the dead-list gather together, and people were holding onto each other and kids were trying to get through the energy field when they managed to separate all of them. And then, in one second, they were all there, and in the next, everybody had just disappeared. Not a trace there'd been anyone there. I guess we were all in shock, because no one started screaming or anything, and I was just thinking that I was really lucky that I wasn't on the living-list, because it meant I'd sure as hell not be put on the death-list."

Jim chucked darkly. "God, I'd just thought the thought, and the moment after, the peace keeping forces, peace keeping, yeah right, they point their phaser rifles at us, and Kodos isn't looking nice anymore, and he just says that 'there are some blind passenger on Tarsus IV,' and my blood just froze. I was sure they knew who I was and where I was, and I had no idea what to do. He started saying something about how even one more person alive would mean 'slow death to the more valued members of society,' and we kids just panicked. I don't know how many of us there were, but someone pulled me along, and half my class started running for anywhere else. I can't even remember where we hid, I just remember trying so hard not to get caught.

"We had to hide away for one and a half weeks. They fed the 'valued members of society' in a closed area, and no one got to bring any food out, so we tried to find food elsewhere, but it just wasn't ever enough, and god, I thought a day without food was bad, but that was just hell. Freddie from our class gave up after a while and ran to Kodos' soldiers to get some food, but I don't know what Kodos told them, that they had to obey him or something unless he'd kill them, maybe, but they just took him somewhere, and he never came back.

"We hid around the housing area for another half week and I thought we were going to die that one day, but suddenly, someone got the communication back up working, and they signaled starfleet to come and rescue us, and I guess Kodos heard about that, because the soldiers just started firing away at everybody, so we just, we ran away as far as possible from any building we could see, so we hid in some unfinished buildings, and Tara fell off the top of the building and died, and Yvonne and Mark just stopped waking up after a couple of days of hiding."

Suddenly, his words came like a rush, as if he couldn't get them away from him, out of him, fast enough. They tasted like poison on his tongue.

"They found us, two soldiers, or three I guess, and they fired at random into the building, so we found some crates to hide in and under and behind, but Linn wasn't fast enough and she disappeared, and Thomas was just barely, by a hair fast enough to only get half his face blown away when we ducked. We hid away for three hours just holding our breath and not making noises, and then we had to take off our t-shirts to press them against Thomas' face so he wouldn't bleed to death. I have no idea why we didn't just let him bleed out, because it was just naïve and stupid to think that anyone would come to our rescue after all that time, but they did, they did, and…"

He doubled over with a choked sob, and both Spock and Bones were there to catch him, embrace him, rub at him and warm up his shaking, inexplicably cold body.

"I don't know why I'm crying," he whispered, voice hoarse. "I'm over this. I left it behind. It's so, so long ago."

"Bullshit," mumbled Bones right back. "You'd have to be made outta titanium to just leave behind something like this."

"Sharing worries and 'venting emotions' seem to be an effective way of dealing with such problems, Jim. There is no shame in attempting to relieve your pain."

He shook his head. "Four people died because of me. Possibly five."

Warm lips pressed to his temple. "And I grieve with thee, Jim, but--"

The warmth in his chest was back, and the black hole felt as if it had lost it's strength. Even as he untangled himself from the unbelievably emotional display, he felt comforted. He smiled, mainly to himself. "No one's ever told me that before."

"'Bout time we did, then." Bones stood, and offered a hand, which Jim took.

"Let's get to lunch," he said, patting his friends' backs decisively. "Let's count the stares I get when we get to the cafeteria."

Bones thought Spock looked vaguely amused, and saved the visual for future reference. However: "Your face is all red and puffed, by the way."

Jim started rubbing furiously at his face, which probably wouldn't help at all. "Shut up, Bones. Your face is red and puffy. What happened to 'you did a great job, Jim?'"

"I'm a doctor, not a psychologist. I've dashed out enough comfort today," he snorted. "Time to get you to act more like Jim always-arriving-late Kirk and less like a wuss."

"Hey, I don't always arrive late."

"Yeah, you really do, actually. You're gonna be late for your own funeral, someday."

"You're like the worst friend ever. Spock, tell Bones that he's the worst friend ever."

"As I have not yet befriended every person 'ever,' as you say, I cannot ascertain that he is the worst friend ever."

"Spock, you're the worst boyfriend ever."

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at the accusation, tuning out the inevitable jab at Jim's 'taste in men' that Bones was very likely to make. Instead, it seemed impossible to tear his eyes away from the wide grin that spoke warmly of the human trait of getting through anything anyone 'threw their way.'

[pinkpoundcake]

DESERT DEVIL

CH. 5  FROM THE MEADOW

All Might/ Reader as Female OC

NSFW AU

7K+ Words

Here we go! Finally. I had to pause and do quite a bit of research for this one. I’m pretty happy with the chapter, but I’ll go back and catch some mistakes later! I’ve been coloring in PS and typing  on GoogleDocs all day so my eyes are tired and won’t catch much. We’ll be taking off from here. I’ll warn that there’s no smut in this chapter, but you can anticipate some for the next. It was just out of place, sorry, lmao. 

I’m not sure of the next time I’ll be updating, but you can anticipate sometime next week. Thank you if you stop by! All Chapters are in my desert devil tag. 

I.

“You may not like this, but you all have to understand! It's for the best.”

The crowd erupted into irritated chatter and groans. This was one of those stressful downsides to using your quirk in this way. It would be easier for you to be the conduit for translation, if so many different kinds of minds weren't giving you so much feedback. Speaker, you, all the joined hands in the crowd. All the joined hands in the crowd, you, the speaker. So many different minds you had to help understand.

Your eyebrows tensed hard enough for muscles to spasm beneath your horns. You were bearing a lot of stress, and your main client, the mayor, hadn't picked up on that yet. His little, white paw was still clutched around your first two fingers while you kneeled down on the soap box next to him. Aizawa had taken your other hand, and then his other hand was linked to the next person. Like one big, unhappy pow-wow. Now, the Mayor, he was so eager to console his constituents, you didn't have the heart to tell him his time was almost up.

“How is that any fair?!” Your eyes were clamped closed. You recognized that voice, but you didn't have the head-space to pin a face. High and kind of whiny. That was probably one of the Inn keeper's daughters.

“The raised fee for violating curfew is incentive, my friends! For all of you to reconsider breaking this protective law. Two hours after sundown, we expect everyone to be locked up, or at least within the bounds of town!” Mayor Nezu responded in his usual chipper tone. His beady black eyes drifted over the crowd of grubby, exasperated faces.  

“A majority of these deaths were discovered far out of the edge of town, you see! And by the fees we've collected these long days and nights, some of you have not taken the previous encouragement seriously!” The Mayor spoke more sternly, though he was still smiling. “If you follow the law, you won't have to pay a hundred pieces, and you won't be ripped apart! How lovely is that!”

“So what are y'all gonna do with all of them extra coins, huh?!” You knew who that was without having to open your eyes. It was this young, plucky fella who always loitered outside the general store eyeing women patrons in their nicest dresses on Sundays. The purple gumdrop always liked to inform you that he didn't mind being around too tall fillies like you, and that always made you wonder where in the goddamn his mother and manners were.

“As always,” Mayor Nezu paused “these fees will be added to our tax well for railroad imports and provisions from Tucson. Public works projects, as well, that will improve our water storage for the future. The budget is always available for a gander at City Hall! I might look like a rat, but I'm no thief, ahahahaha!” You would laugh, too, if you could. He was easy to trust, but the Mayor was strange…

“Please, please, any other q-,” the Mayor blinked with surprise as you yanked your hand away and broke the chain. That was all you could handle. You needed a rest if you still had to hold Sheriff Todoroki's hand for the last portion of the itinerary.

Ah...well, alright. They were going to have a brief recess.

II.

The pounding in your head had subsided a portion. You were glad most folks were distracted with chattering amongst themselves in groups while they allowed you to rest up at the stone edge of the empty, town fountain. You were supposed to let Deputy Aizawa know when you were ready to translate again, which should probably be soon. You didn’t know what time it was, but you could feel the sun rising up higher over your head. It was nice for a little while, but now the bright beams were making your horns uncomfortably hot.

Off to your left, you sensed someone’s shadow sweep over. You thought they were someone in a passing group of gossip, but they stepped a little closer and draped something soft over your head. Your eyes ached, but you cracked one open to see who’d come to pester you. You already had an idea of who it was. “I didn’t think the sun was helping.” Yagi stabbed his cane in the dirt, and then sank down next to you. You heard distinct popping from the joints of his knees. He grunted his same, endearing grunt. This was his usual spot, wasn’t it?

“Thank you. It wasn’t.” You muttered. He understood you couldn’t sound as delighted to see him as you wanted. You sighed and brought his yellow shawl up higher to cover up your forehead and a portion of your eyes. It wasn’t medicine, but it felt and smelled nice.

“I don’t have too much time to talk.” “I understand.” Yagi crossed both of his big, rough palms over the handle of his cane, and then rested his chin over his knuckles. He leaned far and set his eyes on wads of familiar and unfamiliar people still discussing the first half of this morning’s meeting.

“Dove,” Yagi didn’t turn his head, but you could feel his eyes roll back in your direction “are you going to be alright?”

“After a few days of rest, I’ll be fine. I promise.” Yagi’s hands were beneath his chin, so you touched and rubbed his side instead to assure him. Maybe this was a little taboo, but no one was paying attention. He was resisting the urge to move closer. You’d never touched him before, not that he could remember. There was a wonderful heat and softness from your fingers that penetrated the thinned fabric of his shirt, and swept each scarred rib. He felt soothed ( oh yes, he was nervous) , but his intention was for him to comfort you, not the other way around.

“Togo.”

You, almost a little too hastily, tugged yourself from Yagi’s side. As if nothing strange had happened, you stood to your feet, and then gave the older fellow his shawl back. You didn’t know when Deputy Aizawa had approached, or how long the sneaky son of a gun had been standing there. By the look on his face, you could tell he had a certain amount of judgement and disbelief for the both of you. He didn’t have any comment, thankfully. Yagi wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m ready now.” You cleared your throat. Time to hold Mr. Boss-So-Roki’s hand.

III.

Ah, so you and I aren’t going to see eye to eye, boy?

It was a sick joke from a man who had no real eyes. Yagi had ripped them out from the sockets years prior when his heart was broken, and thirsty for revenge. He didn’t regret it. Men who didn’t respect this precious land didn’t deserve to ever take in its beauty.

“You smell like shit, you old fuck.” Yagi loathed to spit acid like a snake, but he deserved every shred of hate contained in his young body on that day.

The Gambler smelled like what he was made of: dirty money and brimstone and mosquito water.

What a nasty bark, you dog!

You look out of sorts, pup. Could it be that arrow you still have there? Here...let me help you pull that out.  

He had liked where Yagi was. Leg mangled. Curled up on the side of the trail like road kill. The vultures were waiting; circling the sun like the grim reaper spun his scythe. That’s what the boy was after all! An animal pretending to be a righteous man.

“DON’T YOU PUT YOUR FILTHY HANDS ON ME.”

And then Yagi was screaming in agony. The Gambler pulled the arrow out nice’n slow, making sure to twist and turn the carved bone of the head into the most sensitive, spewn places. He didn’t like all the mess on his new, priceless equipment, so he found it proper to smear the blood off on Yagi’s already red, enraged face.

Shut up.

Listen very well, dog. Maybe your body can’t die here, but I hope this lesson breaks your spirit like you broke all of my bones.  In stature, it was certain that The Gambler had never healed right. His body was twisted and gnarled like the lichon.  

Yagi did what he had to do after the whole gruesome ordeal was over. He never, ever wanted to kill another man of his own will after that day.   Uh huh…

So, did his spirit ever heal right?

It hurt his heart to try and answer.

IV.

He hated to dream. They weren’t fair. You were supposed to be able to alter your dreams; be whatever you want and do whatever you want. These were all memories he couldn’t do a thing to change. Perhaps he should have been grateful he woke up still clean, and in his own bed this morning. But at what cost…

He needed to stop thinking about it. Yagi had roped up Bell wrong for the second time since he started packing. He rubbed his mule’s neck and she affectionately bumped him on the shoulder with her nose. He didn’t like bringing her so far out from home, because she was his friend, but he had things he had to do as usual. He was going to meet you after he had his student come to watch his property for the two or three weeks you’d be gone. You needed to arrange your own trustworthy house sitter before you both began your long journey.

Yagi had been worried about you the days after the meeting, more than he should have been worried for himself. There was a lot now to consider. He was well aware that you were both lying to each other by omission. You wanted him to track the Devil. If you hadn’t taken the belt buckle back, he probably would have forgotten not to put it on. He hadn’t told you where you were both going for his part of the deal, either, or why he needed you to read. He had advised you on what to pack, and how long you’d be gone, and you just followed the instruction without question.

Did you really trust him that much? You were both traveling alone. In secret. You were lucky law enforcement only patrolled for law breakers, and didn’t go door to door every night. They couldn’t pay enough for all of that.

When he was finally able to meet you, the crown of the sun was starting to peek over the hard, flat line of the horizon. The sky was split in soft streaks of pink and orange. Pretty. There was no wind for haze. The air was still and cool. If only it could stay like this.

“Are you sure you have everything?” Yagi asked you while fixing the girth that strapped his mule to his small, travel cart. He came up to her mouth and made sure the secures there weren’t too tight. She made a quiet, but shrill sound through her nostrils. “I know you don’t like the bit. Be quiet.” The scolding was affectionate and punctuated with a kiss on her nose.

“Yes, and Kissy’s the same way. I think he tolerates it.” He wasn’t raised for riding, but he handled it well enough. Besides, he was the only horse you had.

You were sure you had all you needed. You had rolled up some provisions and plenty of water into your BaBa’s old saddle bags. You really hoped with your combined items, it was all enough. Traveling made you excited and nervous. You hadn’t been outside of town in years. You both had terrible timing, and would probably be in a heap of trouble for giving no notice of leave when you got back. Still, a potentially dangerous journey. And you’d both be alone.

“They all tolerate a lot.” Yagi shrugged his shoulders and sat up on the seat of his cart. “Let’s get moving, quickly!” He boisterously  thumped his closed fist over his chest since neither of you had a rally drum or trumpet.

You wondered if the Devil would lurk the canyon. The thought of you both running into him in the dead of night, or the beast ravaging your camp made your heart jump up somewhere in your gullet.  Yagi must have understood that risk, and he was still taking you to read whatever it was he wanted you to read. You could in fact translate language if you could touch the surface, but it’d been a long while since you’d done so. Most things of importance were printed in English, and a lot of folks couldn’t read no how, so they didn’t bother you.

“Yagi, do you mind telling me where we’re going?” You asked him after mounting. He took off his big brimmed vaquero hat and flipped it upside down. You could see some of your own wool stuck beneath the cap, but what interested you the most was what was embroidered to the underside: a map of the entire valley. Some parts of the thread were old and dirty, but other portions still retained the vibrancy of being freshly stabbed through. You were a little mystified.

”Up north east.” You expected Yagi to produce a compass, but he didn’t. He knew exactly where to go. He’d never been lost before.

“You’ll see, Dove. I won’t lead you astray.” He made a little beat on his chest again and grinned.

“Well...alright. I’m trusting you, sir.” You squeezed Kissy with your heels.

Yee haw! You were both off.

V.

Yagi was puffing out smoke and steam through his nose at the sight of you. His heart was a rumbling, rolling train and he hadn’t finished pounding in all the tracks.  The sun was setting in the distance. Vibrant hues from that sweet goodbye highlighted every plump curve of your naked body. When you turned in the water’s edge and brought your toned arms up above your head, your outlines rippled and writhed in a fog. You shook out your tail like a tambourine, and glistening droplets whipped around your figure.

His dry tongue lolled from the corner of his mouth. Clamoring on all fours, he was clawing the dirt and sand to make it to your mirage. You smiled at him with all your front teeth, and your pretty eyes, and then beckoned him closer with your long fingers. You were emerging from the pool; prowling to meet him halfway. Everywhere your hands and knees touched turned a luscious green.

Almost there… Come here, Come into me, Yagi.

The sun fully disappeared behind the mountains, and the storm clouds swarmed. He was stabbed with daggers of lightning. His big body and hands were all over your soft, fuzzy hide in a monstrous flash. He was pulling your legs apart because now he was long and strong for you. You clamped his waist, clawed his back, and called him by his real name while he was pumping his piston. With his rain and wind and thunder, and your good green earth, he had you. That's right, with your back down in paradise.

Just like he promised.

VI.

“UGH,” Yagi rubbed the faint cut left behind on his forehead. It stung. He had woke with a jolt and hit the side of the rocky perch he’d chosen for the night. You didn’t have a tent, so he let you have his to yourself. A woman, ugh...ow...needed her privacy. He smeared pebbled and already clotting blood on his sleeve. He hadn’t changed his stance on his own dreams.

He was glad you were paces away. It had to be that way. His excuse this time, was that he needed to be a look out for raiders and bandits. That was one thing, but really, he didn’t know when his body was going to change. Dangerous games. Dangerous thoughts. Dangerous dreams. Yagi glanced down at the personal tent pitched in his trousers. Uh...no, he wouldn’t have wanted you to see him like this.

He’d wait to calm down, water the horse and mule, and then wake you. You’d both been traveling for three days, and you had two days of long, hot, dry, travel left.

VII.

When you both finally made it to your destination, the sun was preparing to rise. Yagi was adamant about wanting to push through the night. You had taken such a long break in the afternoon, that it bled into the evening. You had wanted to go back to sleep so badly. You almost fell off of Kissy’s back twice. Yagi, while flustered and spooked, offered to change his mind on the urgency, but you told him it was alright. You just needed to wake up and put up. You were both on a tight schedule.

The clouds were rolling overhead and you wondered (hoped) that they would block the sun or consider banding together for some traveling rain, but they didn't. The trip had gone relatively pain free, it almost made you paranoid. You had to suffer somewhere, and you hoped the continued drought was it.

“Not too much further,” Yagi pushed up his hat and revealed a smile that gave the rising sun a run for its money. For a man who hadn't been sleeping much, he seemed awfully chipper. Dear lady, you had no idea how full of nostalgia he was. The familiar change in terrain gifted him fond and not so fond memories.

“Is that…” you covered a yawn “is that it?” You squinted through the sleepy tears in the corners of your eyes. In the morning haze, you could pick out blocky structures built into the side of a rock face. At another gander, you noticed some fencing holding in several huddled, sheared sheep. Thatched houses peppered the land on the other side of livestock pens and dry, unharvested crops . It didn’t look like a big, busy town, but it was certainly a settlement. It wasn’t too far off from the murky edges of the Colorado River, and the sight of that provided you even more relief. You didn’t know if you had enough water on hand to make it back to Struggler.

“This is it.” Yagi whipped the reins in his excitement and urged his mule on. She wheezed and groaned with some protest, but picked up her pace. You clicked your tongue and bumped Kissy with your heal so he could match speed. You were both kicking up a trail of dust behind you. Being somewhere new made you nervous, but the energy Yagi radiated made you feel more sure. He had his smile on full beam, belting out something incomprehensible at the top of his lungs with your mounts’ hoof-beats. That almost made you pull your draft to a hard halt. Nothing was wrong. No one was coming after the both of you, and he certainly wasn’t hurt. He was going to see his old friend again.

VIII.

There were plenty of times in your life where you felt a little out of sorts. You didn’t feel awkward exactly, just a touch shy. There was a small crowd gathering around Yagi as some reservation dwellers came to properly greet him, or see what the commotion was about. Some natives looked a little on edge, or as unsure as you did, but then the older fellow Yagi was so focused on, finished greeting the sunrise, and then approached. You figured he was probably somewhat in charge, because everyone politely made way for him, or minded themselves and went back to their early tasks. “Aa,” he was grinning from ear to ear just like Yagi was “how are you, my friend? This is a surprise!”

“I’m...well.” Yagi rubbed his neck, and then removed his hat to return the politeness.

“You made quite some noise on the way here! We were worried about a bandits,” the older man’s eyes were wrinkling around the tanned, weathered corners. He was very tall, though not nearly as tall as Yagi, and wore working clothes like the cowboys who traveled far yonder from Texas. You were amazed at the length of his graying hair. It fell behind him in a long cord, and was wrapped up in a braid with bright, crossing threads. He had a lovely, boxy, woven pattern in his shawl that you couldn’t help but eye up, too. Following the loop of his cover, there was a long scar that crossed his neck, and zig zagged down until it was hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. You knew better than to rubber neck that. Didn’t want to be rude.

You felt him sense your wondering eyes, and take a reserved look at you after allowing Yagi to exchange a bow. You were trying and failing to hide behind your big horse. His friend from another land had no one else for company, just you. His bushy brows rose. You assumed your appearance probably surprised, or tickled him. You were used to that, but he was actually assuming something else.

“Aa, this is your wife, Yagi?”

“No, no!” Yagi awkwardly laughed. “This is…” He trailed, trying to think of something that didn’t sound quite as suspicious. “My friend. I brought her here to translate something, if your clan will allow it. We won’t stay for too long, I promise.”

The fellow’s jaw slackened. He brought his hand to his chin. He looked between Yagi, who was anticipating an answer, and then you who were waiting for the same. You came all this way. You hoped that you wouldn’t get turned away and the journey would be for nothing. Whatever Yagi wanted you to read must have been important, or private, if you had to formally ask permission.

“You want to see the old messages? Don’t you?” The other man hummed.

“Yes, I...think it will help me understand.” Yagi had lowered his voice without meaning to.

“Understand what?” You cleared your throat. They were both looking at each other like there was some kind of secret afoot. If you were translating, you were going to know eventually, right? Yagi’s friend frowned at him. This young woman didn’t know? It wasn’t his place to tell you either. It was his request to offer a yes, or a no. “I’m looking to know a little more about this land’s past,” Yagi dug his cane into sand between the toes of his boots. He leaned on it a little, and then brought his still carted mule in closer with his other hand. “There’s some very old language here that a lot of Mustang’s family can’t completely read anymore. His family has been here for quite some time, many many many years,” he had turned his head in your direction while he dropped you this hint “so I’m hoping to find some warnings or helpful superstitions.”

Ah! Now you understood...sort of.  You wondered what Yagi’s interest in the past was, apart from solving the mystery of the Devil, but you didn’t know him well enough to poke and prod that business just yet. Yet. It did make sense, though. More sense than what you were reading. The Devil roamed this land in particular. Should probably consult who’d been here the longest.

“You’re a scholar, young ma’am?” Mustang asked while directing you both to come into the shade and relieve your mounts. By appearances, he wouldn’t have pegged you for someone familiar with his ancient heritage, but then again, when he’d met Yagi, he was quite skeptical of what a stranger would know, too.

“No, sir, it’s my Gift. I can translate speaking and writing if I touch or focus.” You held up your palm to illustrate. His eyes lit up and he clapped his hands once, then twice.

“You’re both blessed with two gifts, then!” Mustang was smiling again. “If you can understand, we will need to accompany you to record. We would like to remember the past, and hopefully our friend here will find what he’s looking for.” Hearing about your gift looked like it was truly a delight, and that made you feel pretty damn special.

“Oh, of course, I don’t mind. I’d be happy to help as long as I get time to rest.” You were trying to wrap your head around something, but Mustang was ushering you both along to where you and Yagi could set up your tent and tether your animals. He trusted Yagi heavily, so he trusted you, if Yagi also considered you a friend in such a sensitive affair. He was already talking about giving word to his family and friends to prepare a hardy meal for Yagi’s return, and then some other things you didn’t quite catch.

You slipped back into your shy sort of self while the two fellows talked on middle ground. You were unloading some items from the saddle bags, and then in the next moment, Yagi was ushered off somewhere else. You got Kissy and Bell somewhere comfortable and in the shade at a stable near to your allotted portion of the settlement. You were thinking about how...different Yagi seemed here while you were watching from afar. He towered over their hosts, readily available to offer his help, or carry things to and fro, even on his bad leg. He cracked jokes with them, and his smile had yet to really let up. He was louder, more open, though he still minded his manners. You were almost a little envious, but you understood. Yagi and Mustang, and some of his siblings have probably known him for years. You wanted to know him like that, too, but for now, you liked that he called you his friend.

After a while of settling, they were picking out sheep for a meal in the dry wood pen paces over. They did ask you if you minded, which you found a little funny. No one here had an appearance Gift that covered their whole body quite like you, so it was the first thing anyone noticed.

Uh, sheep...lamb. You’d never had it before, and didn’t want to try. So, they offered steer, but you had to decline that, too. It just felt weird. Like unofficial cannibalism even though you only looked like an animal. “My father is a bull, and my mother is an alpaca.” You used your other gift to join hands and inform your hosts before you and Yagi had split.

You got plenty of requests to touch your hair. You were used to that, too. You came out of some of your shyness to allow some touches. It was so white, they said, whiter than bones. And soft without needing to wash it so many times. Did you shear it? Well, of course you did. It grew too fast not to. Do you trade it?  Absolutely, let’s bargain.

You spurred an impromptu trading crowd without meaning to. Everyone watched in wonder as you cut off a cottony wad with your pocket knife, and a new patch of wool readily grew in its place. You had bread, and ground corn, and beads, and one young fellow who was very keen about you staying here with him if you were looking for a partner. You remembered you brought some melons full of seeds along, so you topped off that flurry with a big, beautifully loomed blanket on your arm.

When Yagi found you again, he was trying to hide a laugh behind his hand. There you were at your tent, corralling all of your new treasures and spoils. You were a tradeswoman anywhere, weren’t you?

IX.

“Yagi?” The world was dark and silent. It was hard to sleep while you were so far from your cot back at home. The canvas edges of your borrowed tent quivered with the rustle of the wind. It was kind of cold, so you were glad you had your new blanket, and some of the blankets that Yagi had given you. You did that idiot thing were you didn’t bring your own. You were afraid of losing, or messing one up. Every blanket you had was special. Even your new one.

“Yagi?” You whispered again. You could barely see his dark outline on the other side of the thick fabric. He didn’t snore, so you could never tell when he had gone to sleep.

“Yagi?” You tried one more time. Maybe he was asleep? Better not bother him. But finally he stirred. He rolled over to his other side in the dark, and then poked his head through the opening. He looked exhausted in the eyes, and full by the temporary pudge in his belly. “Are you alright?” Yagi mumbled.

You were okay, just stressed in a certain kinda way. And paranoid. You lied awake with your heart heavy with anxiousness waiting to hear it; the hiss… “I..Would you…” You stammered, heart picking up a beat now that you actually had to ask your question. “Do you think it’d be alright if you were here? If you stayed in here with me?”

Your question woke him. You could see his eyes had brightened. He held that expression while he considered his answer. There were plenty of reasons for him to decline, but oh...you were making that worried little face. He knew you were hoping that he’d say yes, so he did, and dragged the rest of himself inside. He stretched out long legs that barely fit on the inside and rested somewhere on the other side of you.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t ask him to move any closer, though you really, really wanted him to. You wanted his pleasant scent fresh and not just wafting your nose from his blankets. And you wanted him to wrap his arms around you and maybe pat you over the head right between the horns like he did from time to time. Oh good glory, would you listen to yourself? Go the hell to sleep.

X.

Should you be touching this? It felt like you shouldn’t have been touching this. The rock surface Mustang had lead you to on horseback was high up. It took you a quarter hour to climb, and another quarter to catch your breath. Yagi had to climb after you with his head craned to the side so he wouldn’t be looking up your bare legs while your clothes were tied out of the way.You were glad the goat in you didn’t mind, otherwise this traverse would be difficult.

You were expecting writing, but you could read the cluster of rock carvings just fine. You squinted while activating your Gift. Things didn’t come together right away. It’d been so long since you’d used it this way. After another try, you finally started to understand.

A majority of the drawings and glyphs were just entrees. A documentation of the days passed. On this day, the men on horseback arrived. On this day we left to travel elsewhere. On this day the canyon was taken with floods. It wasn’t what Yagi was looking for, but Mustang was recording everything on some dried skin as you moved along.

And then, as the carvings grew older, you read out some stories. You could feel a headache brewing behind your eyes, but by now the intrigue had struck you harder, and you wanted to press on and know more.

The spider woman who taught the weaving. This one was hard to read, it was overlapped with other carvings, but Mustang told you that he was already very familiar with the tale.

The warrior with the heart of a bear. He was drawn robustly with his club leading his people to victory in a battle.

The winding serpent that made the river. It slithered and slunk down the entire length of the race face, splitting into other stories and recordings.

The story of good the meadow where the soil was fair and water plenty.

The Oasis on the other side of the sun, and her warrior protector. To you this one read the same, but it felt important. There was a buzz in your fingertips and the cogwheels in your thick skull got to turning.

You’d stopped relying the info without knowing, too. You had gone silent as the symbols stacked in your mind and made a structured narrative before your eyes. The Oasis’ protector became something beyond being a man, chasing off imps on horseback swinging their knives and  shooting their guns and bringing their greed. The spirit of mother earth entered the crown of his head and made him undying. And when his job was done, and he had to leave to return to the other world, the will of the earth entered the heart of a worthy someone else, and it would be that way for forever and ever.

“Dove?” Yagi touched your shoulder. You grabbed on to him to keep from falling over and hitting your head. You blinked a few times to call yourself back to this realm. Both men were staring at you with concern in their eyes.

“You said you wanted to know something about the land? This,” you let go of the hold on your Gift so you could actually think and respond. “This one talks about the Oasis.”

XI.

“I’m glad that you’re all doing well. Very glad.” The flickering light from the dying fire fluttered over the contours of Yagi’s face. He rubbed the bags beneath his eyes, and then rubbed the skin of his arm. It was faint, but he could feel the itch and tingle; the urge to be his other self. He should have been asleep, but he couldn’t. He had even more to think about now.

“It’s because of you, you know.” Mustang took his seat with the grunt of a grouchy old man, though he held none of that in him. “If you had not come for us, we would have had to leave. We’re always going to be grateful. But now, what about you? You don’t look like you’ve been well, Friend.”

“I haven’t healed.” Yagi thumbed through his book. He’d copied what Mustang had scribbled from your readings in his own personal book; one of the ones he kept hidden beneath his bed. It was all in Japanese, since his English on paper still wasn’t the best. He’d been reading it over and over again since you returned to the settlement. It was too dark to read it now, even with the stars out.

“It doesn’t look like you have. How is your leg? And your chest?” Mustang placed his hand on his belly.

“I need to use a cane most days. Sometimes I spit up blood, but I’m still living, and that’s all I can ask for. I tend to horses’ feet now. I’m no longer in the mines.” Yagi tucked his book away in his shawl.

“Is it…?” Mustang’s eyes hastily darted over to where you were supposedly sleeping. Your eyes were closed, and your full lips gently parted with your gentle breathing. You wrapped yourself up in your new blanket, and the young weaver you bought it from couldn’t have been more flattered by how much you adored it.

“I always thought that you would have your own clan, Tall One. Young women always liked you.” He lifted his arm and flexed it as he reminisced on the old days when they were chasing off blue coats.

Yagi huffed through his nose, and then dryly laughed. “So did I, but time’s gotten away from me.” His eyes fell on you briefly. He was already asking a lot from you. The last thing on his mind was courting (even though it was absolutely one of the first things on his mind). He couldn’t let himself fall prey to whims.

“It’s not too late to not be lonely.” Mustang shook his head. “You might want to, before a younger man with more horses and more silver comes along to bargain for her hand. I can see that you like her. Your eyes are very bad at hiding your spirit.”

Yagi scrunched his nose and screwed up his expression. “I would like to, but I don’t want to hurt her. Mustang...I must tell you something.” He relaxed his face and turned on the log he sat on to properly look his old friend in the eye. There was a heaviness that settled in the pit of his chest.

Mustang held up his hand. “I’ve heard of the Desert Walker from the traders.” His brows were drawn up tight. The bags beneath his eyes were rimmed in red as the fire was on its last log. “The Desert Dweller. Desert Devil. Canyon Demon. Valley Eater. I’ve heard many, many names. We can speak of it, but there’s something else much more important that I must tell you.”

Much more important than his murdering spree?

“Toshinori,” Mustang drew in a breath “I am glad, and grieved that you’re here, because now I must tell you something I know you don’t want to hear.”

“What..what is it?” Yagi’s feet were cold in his boots. Coldness had settled over his forehead and shoulders. The muscles in all of his limbs were crawling and twitching with sheer instinct.

“You know how we’ve struggled here. How we’ve had to fight. How we almost had nothing.” Mustang bit the inside of his cheek. His bottom lip wrinkled and puckered as this news left a foul taste in his mouth and nostrils.  

“Yes, I know.” They’d accepted him. His master had accepted him when he came to this side of the world with nothing but his nose, and the will to work.

“They want to bring the railroad through here. They don’t ask, they just take and assume you’ll show your belly. I smelled something in the air one day, and then a ghost appeared to me early in the morning bring in all of his evil.”

No…

No, it couldn’t be.

“I saw him die, Toshinori. I saw you slay him with my own two eyes, and the eyes I keep behind me.” He touched the closed lids hidden deep beneath his hair with his palm. “But I saw him again, and he made me my family an offer that tempted and troubled me.”

Yagi couldn’t respond if he wanted. His jaw was tensed so tightly that his temple twitched and his teeth ached. All of his tanned knuckles were white.

“He’s like a twisted root. No right arm, and walks with a cane just like you do, friend. He has money like these white men now, they think he’s one of them. He offered my family supplies, and protection if I allowed him to rip this land apart. I refused, and he simply took his leave. I think this troubles me the most.”

You had been awake and listening for a while now. You fought your instinct to adjust your position, but you remained still and kept your breathing slow. You were glad you didn’t snore. That would have been hard to fake. What were they talking about? Or rather, who?

Yagi took deep breaths through his flared nostrils. Just the mention of Him set his blood on fire. His stench wasn’t in the air tonight, but it was burned into his most vivid memories. Dirty money, and brimstone, and worm water, and rotting. A thief, a cheater, a liar, and a gambler. The real demon of the desert had no heart, and no real eyes, and he thought he could own anything like he boasted he could own anything, anyone, and any Gift.

“Perhaps, old friend, there’s still work to be done.”

He still had a promise to keep. To do what this world asks of him in return. And then maybe, just maybe he could keep the promise he made to you.

“I think...I think so.” Yagi rubbed the writhing out of his arms and the prickle from the pores of his scalp. He had to try and hold it in, but he was angry. After all the blood and guts, and the skin of his teeth; putting his body on the line. Adaka’i was still carrying on his business.

And Yagi wondered what business it was. Somewhere in the desert…

XII.

The fire was gone.The world was dark and quiet again on the other side of your closed eyes. There were no hushed voices to listen to, just a bunch of sheep who should have been sleeping, too. So, you crawled back on the inside of Yagi’s tent to dream before you had to head back to Struggler tomorrow. Your head was so heavy and tired. Tired from growing all of that wool, tired from showing off the shapes you could make with your horns, tired from doing all of that reading, tired from doing all of that thinking.

Could you really call this dreaming, though? This was just shameless hoping and wishing. You still wanted Yagi to hold you, and pat your head, and tell you that you were silly. He wasn’t far from where you were, not physically. He came to rest beside you in the tent after Mustang and his little wife had wished him goodnight.

You hoped and wished that he’d bring you up to his chest and let you sleep with your faces close. You hoped and wished that he’d fancy giving you a kiss, too. And you hoped and wished he’d kiss you in places the Devil kissed you. Your body opened your eyes for you before you could get too carried away in that distant land. You were greeted with the dark, and the slow rise and fall of Yagi’s long, bony side.

The Devil...whoever he really was. You wondered if he was looking for you, or if you should even be thinking of him. What were you supposed to think of him? A lover? A monster? A murderer? A demon to sit on your chest? Or a vengeful spirit? You couldn’t have them both, and one stallion was stronger than the other, you knew that for sure. If you were with Yagi, would the Devil finish the job? You just didn’t know. You shouldn’t have been thinking about it now. You were just making your headache worse.

Or maybe you should have. You read for Yagi, sweet, handsome, Yagi, and now it was his part of the bargain.

Without thinking (you were good at that), you pushed yourself up from where you lay and crawled over to Yagi. His breathing changed, so you knew he was awake, but he didn’t move. You were holding your breath as you relocated yourself up against his back. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder. It was kind of hard, like you were expecting, but he was warm and he always smelled crisp. You were almost blue, expecting him to turn over and ask you what you were doing at any moment, but he still didn’t move.

You felt him relax. He was asleep again, and so were you curled up close like a house cat behind him.

[howellrichard]

Our Miracle Boy (a Tribute to Buddy)

Hi Dear Friends,

I’ve loved animals from the time I was little. In fact, I had more animal friends than kid friends. They just understood me better and I, them. Much to my Mom’s dismay, I was always rescuing someone. Frogs, cats, inch worms—everyone was welcome in my home. I even made little outfits for them by cutting holes in my baby clothes—another thing she wasn’t too keen on.

My beloved pets helped me through college, heart-breaks, job changes and moves. For me, life just isn’t the same without furry friends. Cut to today. We live on 17 stunning acres in beautiful Woodstock, NY—my sanctuary. When we moved here, I dreamed of rescuing lots of animals. I also dreamed of expanding our human family—but that wasn’t in the cards for us.

Living with a rare, slow-growing stage IV cancer, with no cure or proven treatment options, has had some consequences. But, the hardest one has been having to potentially choose between my life and having children.

My oncologist described it like this: “Picture your disease like a rock balancing on top of a mountain. Right now, that rock is stable, not causing you any harm. If something (like pregnancy) were to change that, your rock may start tumbling down the mountain. If that happens, there’s a chance we can catch it. We just don’t know if we can put it back on top of the mountain—where you’re safe. There are just too many unknowns, so think hard before you potentially wake the sleeping giant inside you.”

Now, I’m a risk taker but this was too big of a risk for me. And sure, there was adoption, but it’s a lot harder for a stage IV cancer patient like me to qualify as a candidate. Plus to be honest, we just weren’t up for the journey at the time.

So, my rock-solid husband and I made the tough decision not to have children. We vowed to live big, fully and out loud to squeeze the most out of the life we did have. Though our decision was right for us and even healing, it was also the only time I’ve ever felt broken. Fuck you, cancer.

Now, as I was processing all this soul-growing stuff, I decided it was the perfect time for a second dog! I was a mama to our gal, Lola, and my aching heart wanted more unconditional love and sloppy kisses. So, I started to petition my man. Though he shares my love for animals, he didn’t exactly have more fur-babies on the brain. In his mind, I traveled too much for work and life was too complicated—bad timing. “It’s not a no, it’s just not a yes right now,” he said.

Miracles come in all shapes & sizes—including big, furry hound #dogs. Our job is to notice & thank them: http://bit.ly/2nXbfcV @Kris_Carr

But, I grew up with parents who used that kind of mumbo jumbo on me, and I do not give up easily. So, my petition turned into an all-out marketing campaign for our next pooch. A week didn’t go by where I wouldn’t pitch my “top 3 reasons why our new dog would transform our lives”. Complete with infographics, pie charts and analytics.

Finally, he relented. Praise God! It felt like Christmas, my birthday and the time the Easter Bunny gave me a training bra in my basket—monumental. We celebrated our glorious decision (AKA my hard-fought win) by going on a long hike on our favorite mountain trail. Naturally, I couldn’t contain my joy, and I expressed it with each strenuous step.

Then, the miracle happened.

We rounded a corner and there he was. Our miracle boy. Our Buddy dog. He was emaciated, matted and covered in filth—we fell in love instantly. Through the kindness of strangers, a group of people helped us slowly get Buddy down the mountain. Someone offered a blanket and a nice man gave him part of his sandwich for strength. Brian took off his belt and made a collar and leash and, when that wasn’t enough, he carried him. From that moment forward, it was a collective #gobuddygo rescue effort.

As we quickly learned, Buddy was in bad shape, days away from dying. The vet informed us that he was about 50 pounds underweight and very lucky to be alive. Due to certain clues, we think he either ran away from an abusive situation or was dumped. I scoured the local papers, Facebook posts and lost pet registries, but no one was looking for him. We even went town to town looking for posters and fliers—nothing. (Thank God! We didn’t want to give him back to anyone.)

As we were trying to understand what happened, we learned that Buddy’s breed is often used for hunting and our gentle fella probably wasn’t very skilled. Sadly, it isn’t uncommon for hunters to abandon animals that don’t perform. This isn’t always the case, there are many hunters who love and care for their dogs. It’s just more of an issue with Buddy’s breed than we knew, so we couldn’t rule that out. Especially because he hated guns, thunder and raised voices. Think more Turner Classics and less NRA.

For months, we poured our hearts into helping our new boy heal. I often joked that his angels instructed him to be at that location on that very day. To look for a yammering blonde and her patient hubby. “She will know what to do. He will do whatever it takes.”

We researched the best diet, supplements and holistic remedies. We even brought in an acupuncturist (until Buddy signaled that needles weren’t his thing by trying to bite the nice man who was thankfully very understanding!).

When the weight wasn’t coming on fast enough for his recovery, we added softball-sized servings of raw ground beef to the mix. Twice weekly, this vegan would head to the butcher in a baseball hat and sunglasses. I even ran into Elizabeth Lesser there once. “Of all the places to bump into you!”. Yeah, tell me about it.

Over time, Buddy went from looking downtrodden to totally radiant. It was amazing to watch his spark come back. His matted coat became shiny and his body functions normalized. But as he was healing, his energy was introverted and cocoon-like. He didn’t like to be touched too much or handled in an unconscious way.

Once, I plopped down on the sofa he was sitting on and unintentionally startled him awake. Well, he snapped at the air like a Great White Shark leaping for a seal. Buddy’s message was clear: “Be mindful around me, especially when I’m in a vulnerable state.”

I can only imagine how scared and alone he felt while starving in the woods. Were there predators? What about all the rain and thunder? Did he think he was going to die? It was traumatic so, naturally, any sudden movement when his defenses were down wasn’t gonna fly. “Got it. Sorry, Buds.”

After a long (mindful!) winter, Buddy totally recovered, and then blossomed. His personality slowly emerged and we were delighted to meet the real, funny him. A gentle, goofy giant, who went from being frightened of touch, to moaning for ear noogies and full-body hugs.

When he wasn’t holding court and welcoming visitors as the mayor of the porch, he was on patrol, checking the perimeter. Thankfully, six of our acres are fenced and dog-friendly. It was my guess that his nightly missions made us safer (or so he believed).

And boy, could our fella move! We called him a shape-shifter. One minute, we were on one side or our football field-sized lawn, the other minute he was on the opposite—until you said the word “cookie”. Then, the woods would shake as he suddenly appeared, galloping full-speed toward his treat.

Buddy fell in love with everyone, especially butterflies and small dogs and gentle winds that brought worlds of information to his gigantic schnoz. He even loved his little sister, though it took her a while to return the feelings. I swear that boy taught me more about kindness and resilience than some of the greatest teachers on this planet.

Especially after what came next.

For a while, we thought his gait was weird due to an accident or perhaps an issue from birth. His left leg made these goofy little half-moon circles when he walked, and he often stood like a ballerina (with his back legs in second position). Odd. Hmmm… Though we didn’t think too much of it, we thought we should get it checked out. So, we took him to a specialist, and that’s when we learned that Buddy had Degenerative Myelopathy (DM), a disease that’s similar to ALS in people.

Like ALS, there’s no cure and the end isn’t easy. Paralysis would work its way through Buddy’s body until he couldn’t move or breathe and there was nothing we could do about it. Maybe he has 6 months to live, at best. Fuck you, DM!

Then, I really knew why he chose us as parents. His angels said, “That one. See her? She’s your new mom and she has a chronic disease, too. She and your new dad will know what to do and they’ll give you the best, longest life possible.”

And, that’s exactly what we did.

As Buddy’s disease progressed, he started to lose his ability to fully use his back legs. So, we bought a harness and held him up as he walked. At first, he only needed us to stabilize him but, over time, his backend got heavier and heavier. When we could no longer be his legs for him, we had Buddy fitted for a wheelie cart—which he loved and zoomed around in—often flipping it while chasing squirrels or his little sister.

When his front legs started to go, we got him a super-Cadillac cart that supported both his front and rear (Thank you, Eddie’s Wheels!). Around this time, he stopped being able to relieve himself without assistance, so we learned how to express his bladder and his bowels. To say I’d be a good proctologist is an understatement.

We didn’t think it was gross (ok, sometimes we thought it was really gross!) and neither did he. Right before each bowel expression, I’d sing “someone’s knocking on the door, let me in, let me in”. He’d dance. I’d get a poop out. Sorry, I know this is really graphic, describing how I put my gloved finger in our dog’s ass to stimulate a bowel movement, but it’s the truth. And, you thought my life was glamorous!

As the months went on, caring for Buddy became a nearly full-time job. And to be honest, sometimes it was really frustrating, especially in the snow and rain. But, it taught us lessons in patience and the values of showing up every day. I stopped traveling for work, cut back on speaking engagements and socialized less (sorry we missed your wedding Kate and Mike, and sorry to so many other friends). But as many of you with pets who are like your children know, there’s no difference between our love for them and other family members. It’s unconditional.

So, we carried on. But, we also looked for signs from Buddy. Was this the life he wanted to live? The shitty thing about DM is that animals who have it are often still fully themselves, even as their bodies are dying. Even though he was bed-bound, he still took his job as mayor of the porch very seriously. He was still full of life and love and so much personality and possibility—a gentle ambassador for rescues and disabled animals—but his body was failing and his time with us was slowly coming to an end.

I talked to him about dying, and I asked him to signal us when he was ready. I also prayed to God to help us know when it was time. We didn’t want him to suffer or be unhappy. He deserved peace.

I also asked God to let me know if we were being selfish. Were we keeping him around because we couldn’t bear to lose him? Or, were we doing what was right and giving him the best life?

I talked to our vet and he said we were doing the right thing and praised our efforts and love. I even invited our dear friend, Kathy, over for her professional opinion. Kathy is the founder of the Catskill Animal Sanctuary and I knew she’d tell me the hard truth. This tough and wonderful broad has rescued thousands of animals and she’s also had to compassionately put some of them down when they were suffering. No one knows this journey better than Kathy.

“Girrrrrl, this fella still has a lot of life in him! Keep going, he’s not ready.” Oh, what a relief! More days… More months… More precious time with our precious miracle boy…

And then, one day, he was ready.

Though we had some damn good times in those last months, Buddy’s symptoms progressed and he started letting go. I watched as he retreated back to that internal cocoon-like state. Though he still loved our attention and cuddles, his spark was fading. It was time.

On the day Buddy died, I told him that he was about to meet my grandma, grandpa and favorite cat, Crystal. That he’d see Brian’s dad and my biological father, who both loved dogs. Plus, he’d be embraced by so many other angels, too, including my Aunt Maria, who jingled when she walked and was a fabulous Flamenco dancer.

I let Buddy know that I’d follow him one day, just not right now. And until we saw each other again, he should run in fields, play like a pup, smell flowers, eat way too many cookies and cuddle with the stars.

That afternoon we made a love fort in the middle of the living room. Our vet came over and so did Buddy’s best friend, Michelle (the therapist who lovingly got into a tank with him several times a week to give him the hydrotherapy treatments that extended his life).

We held Buddy in our arms and told him how much we loved him and, right before he passed, he popped his head up and looked straight into my eyes. In that profound moment, I felt his love, gratitude and presence.

Then, he peacefully left his body.

Buddy truly was a miracle, our miracle boy. He lived a year and a half longer than the doctors expected, a year and a half more of joy, life lessons and bringing beauty to the world.

We miss him deeply but feel so blessed for the time we had together. I think our bond grew especially strong because he was so dependent on us. But, what I hope he knew is that we were dependent on him, too. He helped me heal a grieving heart. He showed me a greater capacity for love. And, he reminded me that life is very precious and all beings deserve a chance to live it.

Miracles come in all shapes and sizes. Little bundles of joy and big, furry hound dogs. Our job is to notice and thank them. The more we do, the more blessings we receive—they just may not always come in the exact form we intended. In the end, loving Buddy was some of the best loving I’ve ever experienced. Yet another blessing.

Thank you to everyone who cheered him on. Thank you for following our #gobuddygo posts on social media and for loving him from afar. Buddy warmed and brightened countless hearts around the world and I know many of you were deeply touched by him. Bless you.

If you’re ready to bring a pet into your life—go for it. And, send me pictures! I’d love to see your fur-children. But, please rescue. Adopt, don’t shop. And, don’t forget the old ones, the banged up ones, the misfits and the rebels—the ones who are often overlooked—they’re the angel babies who will love you the most.

We love you, sweet Buddy boy.

xo,

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