#School left me a lonely hurt mess filled with anger and resentment. I had no friends left during my last year there. I had no friends when

[morningmask27]

I do sometimes find it really annoying that most of the things I do right now are At Least tangentially related to a trauma I lived through.

I am living in a university dorm right now, it's a very typical thing to do, but most people return to their family home during the weekends and only really stay in the dorms because they have classes in the week and having to go from their home to the classes, especially the 9 am classes, can be heavy if they live somewhat further away. I stay in my dorm the entire week. For Reasons I don't want to go back to my old home for longer than half a day to drop my laundry and leave with clean clothes, some food and a chat with my mother. I wouldn't feel good doing so anymore, but mentioning that is weird because most people (except internationals because going to a full on other country just for the weekend, every weekend, would be a bit dumb) return to their home (My dorm feels more like home to me right now than my old house did btw).

When I say I stay in my dorm people are somewhat confused, as it on its own already implies that something must not be that good at the familial home for me to not go there for the weekends. By the simple fact I don't go back it's already implied there is something wrong, and it's true, there Is something wrong, but I can't just start explaining the whole thing, it's not really appropriate for most conversations, and I simply don't want to open up about this part of my traumas. So I just have to quickly and very blatantly brush off that fact and the unpleasant implications to continue the conversation without making it awkward and it's so annoying.

Most of my weird trauma responses at least have the added thing that if I don't verbalize them nobody will really notice. I am good at hiding them, I kinda had to, but this dorm situation is such a blatant sign of something Weird (and not the good kind) that I cannot hide since my actions on their own imply a situation already.

I am somewhat good at dealing with all of these issues, brushing off The Problems is a typical part of normal conversations, but it does get frustrating sometimes when I get severely affected by something traumatic, and it's The Only reason that my problem happened, but I cannot talk about it in casual conversations because of how heavy and intense it is. I have to vaguely mention The Horrors (They Are Complex) and move on before I make my conversation partner uncomfortable. It happened when I had to miss a class because of a severe relapse in my mental health, it happens every time I mention I stay in my dorm the weekends, it happens whenever I get too jittery and weird because of stress (I don't even always know Why I am stressed) and I just cannot explain anything about the cause because it's too heavy for most people to hear. (I do understand that fact, it makes sense you're not going to tell classmates casually about the horrific stuff you went through in your personal life, but it fucking gets annoying when it is fully related to a situation and I have to Shut The Fuck Up anyway.)

It's just frustrating to me that I have to deal with all these Weird Things because of trauma, and everyone sees them, but I cannot explain where they come from truthfully because of how much they are. It's in this weird middle state where people See I am weird hurt, but they don't Know why. I do things differently for reasons they can assume are unpleasant, but I cannot ever truly explain everything to them.

#morningcries #yeah late night frustrations as I just thing about all my friends and such going back to their homes and the occasional somewhat awkward #Lull in a conversation whenever I say I don't return to my kot (so Every time I say that) #Honestly having such a shit childhood really set me apart. But not in a good way #I am weird in many ways. All related to traumas I had and I can't relate to most people #I don't want to return to my home. I don't know what I feel about my sister but it sure as hell isn't a normal sibling relationship. #I have severe attachment issues and fucking cut myself when I was 14 #This mutilation fucked up my brain in the long term too as I now just crassly mention them Like That. They don't mean anything to me anymor #School left me a lonely hurt mess filled with anger and resentment. I had no friends left during my last year there. I had no friends when #I began university. My childhood was horrible and I now have to build something new from the shattered pieces I have left #Some people do help me but in a way my childhood is and always will be lost. I can't relate to what most people got to enjoy #Yes some small moments I do. I went on vacation and stuff and it was fun But somehow something always showed up to make the memory taste ba #When I talk about my past I always have to choose very specific small stories and shave off every negative detail and the grander (bad) #Context

[luzarya]

Without Water

Summary: Yuu walks through a desert, when they find a source of water; then another. Eventually, they end up meeting a duo.

[Post Apocalypse- kind of scenario.]

Ao3 link: here

warnings: small mention of death

word count: 2,462

--

It was difficult.

Life was hard- and barren. Nothing that the eye could see for miles on end, except for the rare flora and the occasional anima; and Yuu was one of the few that survived the onslaught of weather and environmental changes. Finding sources of food was hard, but there was enough for Yuu to make-do.

They haven’t seen another person in years.

It was lonely, at first, but Yuu had grown to get used to it. They didn’t know where they were- no, they couldn’t remember. The city had become submerged in water, forcing many to flee into the nearby desert. At this point, it was likely too far away.

Yuu didn’t know where the next nearest city was. Nor how long since it had started. The days were blurred and Yuu’s sense of time became nonexistent.

The overbearing heat made it difficult to travel, but thankfully, Yuu had plenty of water, after stopping by an oasis that, oh so conveniently, was placed. In fact, it was a bit too convenient.

Just as Yuu would be half-way done with their flask of water, another oasis would spring up. This was not to say that they were incredibly close by- in fact, Yuu was careful to preserve their water supply, but with each instance of bodies of water so close, it made Yuu wonder if it was okay to drink a bit more water.

Yet, every time the thought ran through their mind- they disregarded it. No matter how convenient these sources were, they weren’t eternal, nor would they be convenient forevermore.

Plus, another need plagued Yuu’s mind- hunger. Water could only stave off hunger for so long, and if Yuu didn’t find an animal to feed on soon, they would soon run out of the rations that they had prepared earlier from their last kill.

Yet, Yuu carried on, their eyes looking, hoping, for food to appear.

Nothing.

Yuu shook their head- of course, it would make no sense for an animal to appear right in front of them just when they desperately needed it. Life didn’t function like that, although Yuu sure wish it did.

Yuu took another sip from their flask- it was halfway empty, and if the number of oases had indicated anything, it was that another should arrive soon. And certainly, like they had predicted, they could see one in the distance.

...With two figures around it.

Yuu slowed down their walking, but the two figures never left. In fact, once one of them noticed Yuu, they beckoned for them to come closer, waving their arms around.

“Hello!”

Yuu quietly cursed, resuming a normal pace. The figures, now close enough to see two tan teenage boys, one with white hair and the other with long brown hair, waited for Yuu to arrive. The long-hair individual seemed annoyed, whereas the white-hair boy seemed rather excited.

Yuu noticed a few bags nearby, taking the hint that perhaps that the two were resting. Yuu wondered, had they been any slower, would they still have met?

“A new person!” The white hair boy ran over, taking in Yuu’s appearance, “I haven’t seen anyone for days!”

The long-haired teenager sighed, and said, “It’s only been a few months since this whole mess started.”

...A few months?!

“Is that so, Jamil?” The white-haired boy said, now pondering if there was truth to his words, though, despite the pondering, Yuu could tell it wasn’t serious. Yuu glanced at ‘Jamil’, who scowled.

“Yes,” Jamil replied, his voice straining to hide the hostility towards Yuu, but they still nonetheless picked it up. Though, the white-hair individual didn’t, his face still smiling like before.

“I’m Kalim al-Asim!” The white-haired teenager said, then gestured to Jamil, “And this is my best friend, Jamil Viper!”

“I’m not your best friend.”

Kalim momentarily pouted, but carried on, “So, what’s your name?”

Yuu hesitated for a moment, but they relented.

“The name’s Yuu Kishimoto.”

-

Yuu stayed with the two fellows, as they shared their food with Yuu. From what Yuu learned, Jamil was the rather resourceful fellow, having been able to create the dish- roasted meat with a bit of spice, all from scratch.

Kalim was rather overjoyed with Yuu’s appearance, as he had yet to see another ever since the disaster began, although he was a bit saddened that he wasn’t going to see all of Yuu- since their attire was made so that nearly every inch of their body was covered. So far, they could only see Yuu’s mouth as they ate the food.

Soon enough, night befall, so Yuu set up camp. It was a flimsy tent, but it did keep the sand and rain out, so Yuu didn’t complain. Not that they had much room to, since it was the only thing they could find, after all, the panic caused many shortages of many necessary supplies. Yuu was lucky that they had already owned a few things that had aided their survival thus far.

Kalim and Jamil had their own camp, as the two spelt together. Yuu briefly questioned why, as Yuu noticed that Jamil often had to have great restraint. The boy was quite good at hiding his intentions and emotions, acting as neutrally as he could, but even then, Yuu would find the smallest of hints that indicated Jamil’s distaste, usually towards Kalim.

Though, that was not to say that Kalim was not without fault. If Yuu could describe him in a single sentence, they would say “He’s the blazing sun that shines too much; a pile of sugar, too rich to handle within a few bites.”

Kalim radiated too much positive and optimistic energy than Yuu could ever handle, already draining them of the little energy they had in the few hours of meeting them. If not for Jamil’s good cooking, Yuu didn’t know if they could have survived a few hours alone with Kalim.

Though, for the moment, Yuu was glad to have found some company.

-

Morning came, and Yuu half-expected for Jamil and Kalim to have left them all alone in the lonesome of the desert, yet to a pleasing surprise, Yuu saw Jamil making breakfast when they left their tent.

“Morning,” Yuu politely greeted, refilling the flask with the water.

“Morning,” Jamil replied, yet never taking his eyes off the meal he was making.

“So,” Yuu awkwardly began, “Whatcha making?”

“Just some eggs.”

“They’re not… fertilized, right?”

Jamil shook his head, “Didn’t see a hen nearby. Looks like a bird just laid them and went on with their business. Fresh too, thankfully.”

“That’s good to hear,” Yuu sighed with relief, a hand over where their heart was. “Do you need any help?”

Jamil pondered for a moment, until it seemed like he came to a conclusion, “Are you knowledgeable with your spices?”

“Hm? Well, I suppose..?”

“Then get me…”

Jamil instructed Yuu to get the spices as he continued cooking. It wasn’t an extravagant meal, but with Yuu’s help, Jamil ended up getting more ingredients to add to the breakfast.

Fortunately, an animal had wandered by. It was small and quick, yet Yuu was quicker, surprising Jamil with how fast they captured the small creature. Nonetheless, the contribution aided, and now, they had enough food for everyone by the end of it.

The aroma of the food was strong, no doubt, if there was anyone even remotely close, they would have certainly noticed. Yet, it was only the three of them.

Kalim left the tent, stretching his arms, yawning as he did so. He walked over with a bounce in his step, and gave the food a once over.

“Ah, it looks so good! Thanks Jamil!” Kalim greeted, already taking a seat and a plate.

“Yuu had helped a bit,” Jamil stated, as he, too, grabbed a plate.

Yuu followed suit, placing the meal onto their plate, removing the mask that they adorned to eat the meal. Though, it was the type of mask where the bottom was detachable, so, Kalim and Jamil could only see Yuu’s lips and the color of their skin- yet even with the glimpse of skin, it wasn’t guaranteed that the same pigment would be seen all throughout the skin.

Although, if one thing did stand out, it was the lip piercings. They were a neon blue, contrasting their skin.

“I didn’t know you had lip piercings, Yuu!” Kalim exclaimed the moment he saw them, nearly straining Yuu’s ears.

“Ah,” Yuu replied, as if remembering that they had them, “Yea. Had them for a few years now. Thought they looked cool so I got ‘em.”

“Did it hurt when you first got them?”

Yuu paused, trying to recall the faint memory, yet to no avail, “I think it may have? Just a bit. I’m not scared of needles, so I suppose this was fine.”

“I see,” Kalim’s curiosity seemed to be sated, at least for now. He didn’t prod any further, instead opting to eat his meal. Even while doing so, he radiated an immense amount of positivity.

Breakfast then was silent, not a single word said afterwards.

Perhaps Yuu would come to like traveling with them… if they allowed Yuu to do so, that is.

-

They did.

Granted, it didn’t take much, as Kalim was the one who insisted. It looked like Jamil couldn’t refuse anything that came out of the white-haired boy’s mouth- that if, if you could call him that. It burned in Yuu’s mind about their age. Yuu was on their way to college, just barely graduating from their respective school, yet, Kalim and Jamil gave off the vibes as being younger, yet there was a certain edge to them.

It was odd, though Yuu supposed it was due to their age, being in a weird limbo of being a child and an adult, yet nonetheless, they were still a teenager. Either way, the edge they felt, it was rather odd. Kalim reminded them of the more youthful years, those that were peaceful and filled with happiness, yet, Jamil on the other hand, Yuu could sense a resentment, akin to teenage rebellion and anger, but much more intense.

Yuu didn’t want to bear the brunt of Jamil’s emotions, no matter how good he was concealing them, so for now, Yuu would act in the middle, never swaying towards one nor the other.

Plus, Yuu was certain of one thing- these two individuals were much stronger than them.

Yuu could feel a headache coming on. They let out a quiet sigh, thankfully no one picked up on. Kalim filled the silence with whatever he could think of, yet Yuu was only half-listening.

For now, Yuu decided it would be best to focus on walking and staying near them.

--

It has been hours, and if it was something that had certainly surprised Yuu, it was Kalim’s unique magic. It did explain all the sources of water that they had encountered, yet Yuu would have never imagined that such an ability belonged to Kalim. Yuu briefly wondered what Jamil’s unique magic was, if he had one, though Yuu was certain that the teenager had one.

After all, those with magic usually develop their unique magic by this age, don't they?

Soon enough, the three of you reach your destination. It had surprised you that there was anything out in the desert at all.

“We’re here!” Kalim shouts, lifting his arms in the air in celebration. Yuu stared at Kalim, then glanced at Jamil for an explanation.

“This used to be our dorm,” The hooded man explained, “We had momentarily left to search for-”

“Survivors!” Kalim cut in, grabbing your wrist, “There have been only a few others who had traveled this desert, though most of them had died. You’re the first we found alive!”

Yuu momentarily blanked out from the statement- just what exactly did he mean that Yuu was the only one they found alive?

“Eh?” Was all that escaped Yuu’s mouth.

Yuu could hear Jamil sigh, as the three of them neared the fence, “As he said, you’re the only one alive so far. Every other person we’ve found out there is dead. It’s probably because of Kalim’s unique magic that you’re alive,” Jamil then glanced over at Yuu, “alongside your hunting skills.”

Yuu had to take a moment to process Jamil’s words, and once they did, they soon found themselves on the other side of the fence, Kalim quick to drag Yuu further into the area, looking back to see Jamil hide a set of keys.

As Yuu was dragged, they saw more people busting in and about- more people than they had seen in the past few months. They could glance a few gardens the further Kalim dragged him as he babbled off about something, what it was, Yuu didn’t know.

“-and that’s everything!” Kalim stopped, Yuu nearly bumping into the teenager. Yuu blankly stared at Kalim for a good moment, before saying something.

“Pardon me, but uh… I didn’t quite catch that?” Yuu saw the boy’s expression morph to a pout, before Yuu began again, their words picking up speed, “I’m just a bit overwhelm and hearing that I’m the only one alive that you found really makes me feel really-”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Kalim quickly smiled, as if he then finally comprehended what Yuu was going through, “You’re probably tired after all that! We’ll host a party to celebrate your arrival!”

“Oh, there’s no need-”

“Nonsense! You’re the first,” Kalim replied, “So we must celebrate!”

Yuu didn’t quite like the idea, but it seemed like there was no way to dissuade him.

--

It came quickly, and as quickly as it came, the celebration ended. Yuu ended up helping out Jamil with all the preparation, despite Kalim’s insistence that they shouldn’t lift a finger- to which Yuu had yelled that they should, since they were the cause of it.

Jamil started to tolerate Yuu a bit more, it seemed, as throughout the preparation and the cleanup, there was a comfortable silence, only speaking when needed.

Jamil was the one who showed them to an empty room, of which Yuu was thankful of, as well as allowing them access to their bathroom, since it was past curfew once they had finished cleaning up.

Yuu never once revealed their appearance, and they speedily left Jamil’s bathroom before he could even glance at them. The only thing that he had heard was a quick “thank you”.

Thus, Yuu sat on the bed, the room empty save for them. A mirror stood in the middle, as Yuu recall the past two days. Funny, just as they were to be without water, they were saved.

Yuu could only hope that they were able to find a new sense of normal.

#twst x yuu #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #yuu twst #luzarya writes things yuh

[impishnature]

The Light Keeper (Part 15/END)

AO3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Rating: T

Summary: A beast lurks in the waters. Stan loses Ford to the waves, the lighthouse his only point of contact and hope of ever getting him back. …He used to love the sea, now it’s taken everything from him.

Lighthouse Keeper AU.

Series of One-shots.

AN: Commission and story collab with @sightkeeper based on their Lighthouse Keeper AU (link above). 

The finale is here!!! Ahh this story comes to a close and I enjoyed every second of it!

.

Part 15: The Lighthouse Keeper’s Legacy

“Hey Stan, would you still like to go sailing together?”

Stan woke up within an instant. For a second he had thought he’d heard… but he couldn’t have. It felt like he’d heard the words through a fog, like the light should have been flickering on behind him and he could hear the wisps again, trying to cut deep into his core, wound him in ways he hadn’t thought he could still get hurt.

For a second his heart beat painfully against his ribs, the blink of a small sail boat with a lone figure out on the deck glued to the back of his eyelids and the stale bitter tang of betrayal and disappointment sitting on the back of his throat.

And then it was gone again. His brother sat beside him, instead of out on the waves without him. It hurt, it always had hurt but it was in the past where it should firmly stay. After all, he had his brother back now, they were finally talking again. They had both done things they regretted in the past, he wasn’t going to bring it up. Wasn’t going to ask- How? Why? How could you stand- No. He gulped down the bitterness, shaking his head at the words as if they were a memory from another time, waking himself up further in the process.

He rolled his shoulders, yawning as he turned to Ford, fully intending to ignore the weird thought that had popped into his head before he froze at the look on his brother’s face. He looked thoughtful, half asleep, but definitely thoughtful and intrigued. It was a look that used to amuse Stan, that gleam to his eye that appeared whenever his brother was deep in thought, the possibilities buzzing. It had been a look that didn’t come out with school work, as much as Ford was good at it all, it never really held his attention for longer than he needed to do it.

No, it was his own projects outside of school that garnered that look. Each filled with complex details Stan couldn’t grasp but still he was happy to listen because his brother would get so excited at an audience and Stan knew deep down that Ford at least tried to explain in ways that would interest Stan enough to keep his attention.

And if not his projects, then their project.

…The Stan’O’War.

That was when Stan was really happy to see that look, the one that now seemed so reminiscent of so many years ago. When the pair of them had stood on the beach and looked out to sea and he knew his brother had been just as ready to leave as he was. There was so much to do, so much to explore and they were going to do it together-

But that was then, when the sea was inviting and full of promise and this was now.

Now he was just a bitter old man who had lost far too much to the waves to want to let anyone he loved near them again.

His eyes followed Ford’s gaze to the foamy seas, his own thoughts more disgusted as his eyes skimmed the waters. It had been the bane of his existence for so long, that that dream of his had been well and truly ripped to shreds by the undertow.

He turned to his brother again, with what he could only imagine was abject horror on his face.

“Please tell me I didn’t hear you say what I think you just said.”

Ford blinked awake beside him, turning to him with a puzzled expression and for a second he breathed a sigh of relief. An apology sat on his tongue, an excuse that he must have fallen asleep, sorry, ignore him, ready to unleash as soon as Ford asked what he was talking about.

But the words died, slipping back down his throat to stop him saying anything at all as Ford studied him intently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, though there was an apologetic aura to his body language as he reached out a hand and gripped Stan’s knee. He hadn’t even noticed that his back had gone ramrod straight, that his entire body had locked up when Ford didn’t instantly brush away his worries and let him know everything was OK.

“Stan? Stan, what’s wrong? I only asked…” Ford didn’t finish the sentence, worry and concern overflowing as Stan shook his head.

“No, you can’t be serious.” Stan took a deep breath, staring over at Ford, trying to shake the feeling of impending doom. “Sorry, I must have misheard the question. Shoot, Sixer. Cause right now I’m really hoping that I was asleep and translated the question wrong.”

“Alright.” Ford gave an apprehensive smile, giving Stan’s knee another squeeze as he relaxed. “You worried me for a second there, I wondered what had happened.” He felt San relax as well and gave a small sigh of relief. “That’s it. Sorry for spooking you, probably shouldn’t have whispered anything up here, what with- A-anyway.” He coughed awkwardly, glancing back out to sea, feeling Stan’s eyes on him. There was that small thrill still as his eyes scanned the horizon, that ever present gleam that there was so much to do, so much to explore and learn if only they could get there. He knew, of course he knew, that that insatiable yearning for knowledge and curiosity had got him into this mess in the first place but now his brother was with him again and he felt like a kid again. Like they were sat on the beach, watching the world go by and making big plans together.

He’d thrown himself into research when his brother had been kicked out, anything to not think about anything else. He’d stopped thinking all together about a lot of things – self-destructive, his self-preservation had almost deserted him. He knew that now. Knew that he’d just stopped caring as long as he could solve the next big puzzle thrown in front of him.

He knew now that going off alone, whether on sea or on land, was a bad choice. He just couldn’t trust himself to not get lost within his own head.

Plus he didn’t want to be alone anymore. And he didn’t want to leave his family, they all meant more to him than research ever could.

For the first time in a very long time, not even counting the years below the waves, he finally felt like his thought processes were a little bit healthier in his attitude to looking after himself.

Sure he teased Stan relentlessly about needing sleep but… he just couldn’t resist.

In reality he did know that he needed to sleep to be able to spend time with them all, and he really was trying to.

And so now, sat beside his brother, the early morning rays painting the horizon pink, his thoughts had gone back to what they’d always planned. Not just for research, but because it had always been what they both wanted. His brother was an adventurer at heart, he should never have been stuck in the same place for 30 years, it didn’t suit him. They should have been out, solving mysteries, fighting monsters, the two of them against the world like they’d always said they were going to be.

He wanted to go adventuring with him, wanted to use what time they had left to chase the waves and go wherever the wind took them. Safe in the knowledge that when they returned there’d be people waiting for them, to stop them from going overboard at any point.

A place to call home.

A safety net to make sure neither of them forgot there were people who cared and who they cared about, who they needed to see again.

All the feelings, all the possibilities and wonders of the world were catching up with him on that sleepy warm morning. Everything that he had locked away, deep below his anger and all that bitter resentment after their argument, after Stan was kicked out. Anything good that had been connected to Stanley, all of it, he had pushed as far away as he could because thinking of it brought a wave of sadness that he couldn’t deal with. His anger had been easy, it had given him a drive, given him a route to run down, scorching the earth as he did, but the sadness had always taken that from him, left him lost and painfully alone and wondering where exactly he was running too.

Now, safe in the knowledge that it had all been an accident, that if they’d just spoken, communicated, maybe none of this would ever have happened, those old dreams had reignited. It was all there ready for them, ready for the taking, if only they were ready to go out there and take it.

Wasn’t that what Stan had always wanted too?

The adventure of a lifetime?

Any hesitance that he had had at Stan’s sudden panic vanished out of the window and scattered on the wind. Stan hadn’t heard him properly, that was all, he’d whispered it in a place where Stan was used to hearing whispers while they were both half asleep and it had gotten distorted along the way.

Of course, Stan would be ready to finally go on that trip they’d always said they would.

He should still ask though, that was how it worked, right?

Even if he knew they both wanted it, he still needed to make sure.

Stan probably just hadn’t gotten round to asking him yet.

“What I asked was, whether you’d still like to go sailing? What was it… ‘Ready to sail around the world on the adventure of a lifetime’?”

“No.”

Ford hummed, frowning as his eyes stayed locked on the water. “No? It wasn’t that? Huh, I felt sure you’d said that before when we were kids…”

“No, as in no, Sixer.”

Ford tilted his head, finally turning back to Stan as his face warred between guilt and panic. He felt like a wave had hit him head on and knocked him over, unable to fathom why Stan looked quite so out of sorts, his muscles once again tense and his face refusing to look out of the glass in front of them. “No, what?”

Stan growled, irritation bleeding in through the shamefaced expression. “Ford, this is a joke, right? You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? I just can’t figure out why…”

Ford shook his head, a small pained sound escaping Stan at the motion that made Ford feel even more lost. “What? Why would I joke about-” An inkling hit him then, his face turning serious as he straightened his back and turned properly to his brother. “Stan, you don’t still think I don’t want you around, do you? Is that it? I thought we’d been over all this. I want to spend time with you and the kids, I want to do what we always dreamt of doing! Us against the world, chasing the waves- international treasure hunters.” He grinned brightly, trying to coax out a smile from his brother. “I need you by my side to do that, no use being a treasure hunter alone- we’ve seen where that leads me. So, let’s go! Let’s do it! Let’s sail around the world and explore-”

Stan’s voice cut through his like a knife, echoing around the small enclosed room like a maelstrom.

“What part of No don’t you understand?! Why on earth would I ever want to go near the sea after it- after you- after everything?”

Stan was up on his feet before Ford could even register that he’d stopped talking. The words were spinning around in his head, they made perfect sense and yet at the same time none of them registered enough for him to stop digging himself deeper and deeper as he turned to face his brother. “But you always wanted to.”

Stan let out a squawk of disbelief, pacing around the lantern in a nauseating circle for his twin, obviously needing somewhere to walk in the limited space. “Maybe I did! So what? You don’t think things change?” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “You still do?”  

Ford somehow managed to look affronted, adding to Stan’s ire. “Yes, I thought I was making that obvious.” He shuffled further round to face Stan properly. “Look Stan, we’re not getting any younger. I’ve spent years down there, I want to live now. And part of that is doing what we always said we would! I want to adventure with my brother like we always dreamed. Has it really gone? All of it?”

A small bubble of hope blossomed as Stan turned his head away from him, looking past his shoulder and out to sea, a soft wistful expression on his face as he huffed out a laugh. “Oh wow, Sixer. If you’d asked me before all of this, that night when I came down here… I’d have jumped at the chance. Us two off on an adventure together again…” His expression soured, disgust and bitterness taking over as he continued to stare at the waves, the warm hope popping to fragments of ice as Ford finally understood. “But then it took you away from me.” He locked eyes with Ford, freezing him in his place. “I’ve spent thirty years next to this… unforgiving bay. Thirty years of wondering if I’d ever get you back, of never knowing exactly what happened to you. You think that just vanished now you’re back? That I’d want to go anywhere near it and let it take you away from us again? We just got you back, Sixer, I don’t want to-”

I don’t want to lose you again.

He didn’t have to finish the choked off sentence for Ford to get it.

“S-Stan. That wasn’t-” Ford stood up, letting out the half cut off sentence in a deep sigh. He didn’t want an argument but here they were, with him knowing he was entirely in the wrong for making assumptions, for not getting it. He hadn’t had to live it, he’d been asleep for the most part. Stan would say otherwise, he knew. That the nightmares and what the creature had done to him was far worse than the waiting that Stan had had, but to Ford they were unique experiences. Both painful, both hard, and they had both left them with scars.

Ford wanted to live with the time that he had, it was precious. He needed to push 30 years of sleep into what time he had left and do everything he had ever wanted to do, everything he needed to do.

Stan just wanted to rest. He wanted to protect them all. As long as they were all safe, nothing else mattered.

But they couldn’t always be safe, they needed to live. It almost pained Ford to see how much his brother had changed in that moment. All that gutsy bravado striped away to see the worried old man beneath who just wanted them safe and sound.

Any other time, when it wasn’t Ford that was the issue, he knew he would jump into the fray. But he’d become careful, taken a step back.

He wasn’t about to jump into a fight when there was no need for one, which was what Ford was suggesting. It had taken that long for him to realise that fact. As far as Stan was concerned, Ford had grown more foolhardy. At any other moment Ford might have been proud for Stan’s reckless nature having taken a back seat.

Only he couldn’t be, not in this instance.

Stan had forgotten what wonders the sea held. Forgotten the late night whispered conversations when they were meant to asleep and the excited chattering as the sun set and bathed the Stan’O’War in reds and gold. Forgotten the gleam of treasures, the thrill of discovering things no one else had laid eyes on in centuries. Forgotten the songs and the shanties of the mystical creatures they had both been excited to find.

Now he only saw the monsters.

Now he only saw the darkness.

And Ford ached in the knowledge that he had caused that.

Until just as before, the anger bubbled up, fierce and scalding as a yellow eye flickered when he closed his eyes.

He did this.

“Stan.” Ford took a step forward, arms outstretched but Stan took one back, eyes narrowing and suspicious as he waited for Ford to continue. “Stan, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking.” He waited patiently as Stan gave a shuddering nod, still tense but at least willing to listen by the looks of it. “But that’s not- that’s not the sea that did that! That was that thing down there.” Ford pointed, ignoring the ironic look and the derisive snort his brother gave as he pointed at the water. “Maybe he is in the sea but that’s not the seas fault, there’s any number of fascinating, brilliant creatures to outnumber that thing!”

“But that’s the point, Sixer!”

Ford’s mouth snapped shut, a myriad of excuses and thoughts clawing up his throat to escape but he’d let Stan have his say.

If he really didn’t want this, he wouldn’t make him, but he needed to know if that was the case, needed to know there really was no hope, that Stan no longer dreamed of the adventure at all before he gave up.

Stan gestured out along with him. “You think that’s the only- whatever it is- out there? Really? Just the one? That sea is teeming with them! I know my stories are lies and old wives tales so that people respect the sea more- but I also know that some of them are true. Enough of them are true. I can’t lose you again, Sixer! I almost thought I’d lost the kids as well to that god awful water and I couldn’t- I didn’t mean to scare them but-” The words came out in a choke of fear and Ford could see how much he hated that he had shown that vulnerability to him. He turned away, scrubbing down his face and Ford couldn’t help but reach out, rub his shoulder in way of apology. Stan groaned, a deep sad sound as if he couldn’t convey what he needed to with words then and just needed Ford to know what this conversation was doing to him.

Ford did. A sinking horrible guilt making a soft noise bubble out in response to try and comfort him.

“I just don’t get it, Sixer. I don’t get how you could want to go back out there. After what happened to you last time.”

“Well last time I was all alone and listening to voices that I shouldn’t.” Ford tried to make light of it all, add some humour though the look he got in return made him know it had fallen short.

Dawn had broken over the tree line, and yet somehow the room felt colder than it had all night.

“Yeah. Fantastic, that logic’s going to get you far, nerd. ‘Let’s go back out on the sea so another horror from the deep can trick me again’.”

“Last time I didn’t have you to make sure I had some common sense.”

“Last time? And whose fault was tha-” Stan bit his tongue, eyes instantly flashing with regret but Ford didn’t say a word when he’d brought this on himself. He waited patiently as Stan stood up and away, letting his hand drop from him as he turned to face him, eyes stern and determined.

“You want some common sense, Ford? We’re. Not. Doing. It. How about that?” Stan took a deep breath as if willing himself to calm down. “I am not going out on the water and I’ll be damned if I let yo-”

Stan stopped his tirade, head snapping to the side as he flinched away from the glass.

Ford jumped forward to greet him, concern overriding everything else. “Stan? Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, just the wind.”

Ford frowned, listening intently but he couldn’t hear anything. His eyes stayed fixed to Stan who still seemed perturbed, his expression flitting between worry and that ever present fearful anger that he might do something stupid. “Stan, I can’t hear anything.”

“It’s nothing, where… where were we?”

“Stan.” Ford warned, his tone broaching no arguments as he stared heatedly at him. “It’s obviously not nothing, stop trying to hide things.”

“Hide things? I’m being completely honest with you about this entire argument.” Stan dusted himself off before giving him a grouchy sour expression, one that was at least more natural than that awful fear that had been dancing across his eyes. “I just- that nightmares still got me all jumpy, alright? Happy?”

“No.” Ford sighed, patting Stan’s shoulder comfortingly. “Of course I’m not happy that you’ve had nightmares or that we’re arguing or-”

Stan deflated, his voice quietening as he interrupted Ford once more. He took it as a win even if the voice sounded sadder than it had all night. “This isn’t an argument, Sixer. I don’t want to argue with you. I just- the sea isn’t what we thought it was as kids, alright? It was all just wishful thinking. You think that boat would have survived long enough to get us anywhere? Creatures or not it would have fallen apart before we even lost sight of the shore.” Stan’s voice and eyes turned plaintive, pleading with Ford to stop this nonsense. “Do you know how many storms have taken people here, Ford? This little fishing town is filled with them. You think Wendy would have been that angry at me if it wasn’t because we all know what it can do? One bad storm and that’s it.”

“But they still go out there.”

“They have to! It’s their livelihoods, their skills are all based around the water!” Stan gripped at his hair, obviously struggling to get the words out. “It’s… a necessary evil! One that we don’t need in our lives anymore.”

“But it’s not just that!” Ford knew his voice was rising as Stan flinched away from him and in that moment the fight left him. He wasn’t going to force this, it wasn’t worth the way Stan was backing away from him. He regulated his tone, giving it one last shot, one that even he knew was a low one. “Do you not… want to go adventuring with me?”

From the noise that left Stan he might as well have punched him in the stomach. Maybe it would have hurt less. “Of course I do. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just us two against the world.” A soft smile graced his lips, the first one Ford had seen since the conversation had started. “And two kids who’d love to join in whenever they got the chance. I’ve had some adventures with them over the summer, let me tell you.”

“You have.” Ford’s own mouth curled upwards, a small light at the end of the tunnel that maybe he was getting somewhere. “And we can still. It’s all right there for the taking, if only you could see that.”

Stan rubbed at his eyes, a bubble of dark laughter escaping him. “Oh, it’s me, is it? Me that has to see that? Ford, you’re the one that doesn’t seem to get it that we can still do that. We can go off and travel, go anywhere we want- why do we have to sail to do that?”

“You want to go on a road trip with me?” Ford raised an eyebrow, glad there was at least some humour in the conversation even if his heart disagreed with Stan. The logical part of his brain  was having a moment of utter perplexity that he hadn’t thought of that, but his heart knew that there was something about the mystery of the sea that still beckoned him in. “You’d kill me within a day or two in that tight a space.”

Stan snorted. “You say that as if I wouldn’t strangle you on a boat within a week.”

Ford let out a chuckle, the words holding no bite. “I dunno, you seem to be doing alright up in here and this room is tiny.”

“Yeah well, if we’re stuck in here any longer with this conversation I might punch you.” Stan gave him a long suffering look that Ford could only shrug at.

“Sorry, I just thought you might still…” He looked away, out to sea, the words stuck in his throat as he tried to will up some way of explaining himself. “I get what you mean. Who cares how we get there as long as get there, right? But… there was always something about sailing away that really grabbed us, wasn’t there?”

Stan paused for a moment, following his gaze again to the crystal clear waters and the vast blue that stretched as far as the eye could see. It had never seemed daunting as a kid, just this breath-taking view, so close and so far that could take them away from New Jersey. “Yeah… yeah it did.”

Ford almost didn’t want to break the moment. Stan’s expression had grown nostalgic, that sparkle that his eyes used to hold when he looked at the Stan’O’War deep within the gaze. “Then… will you at least think about it?”

Stan’s eyes darted back to Ford, watching him like a hawk, scrutinising him as he debated on an answer before letting all the air out of his lungs in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll think about it. Don’t expect my answer to change though.”

“As long as you think about it, that’s all I ask.”

“…What on Earth does he see in you?”

Stan stood in the early morning sun, dawn filtering through the trees behind him. He shuddered as another wave broke along the shore, the fine spray seeping past his layers and making him glower darkly downwards at his own shadow, rippling and twisting at the water’s edge. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, hunching his back, his shoulders high around his ears as he tried to ignore the whispering crash and draw of the waves, the constant ever present sound of the ocean pushing and pulling the pebbles across the beach. His efforts only seemed to make it louder though, as if using his shoulders as a windbreak had had the same effect as putting a shell to his ear, the sound surging up to meet him until he was sure the waves would drown him on dry land.

Or at the very least deafen him.

That almost sounded like the better option.

He huffed quietly to himself, relaxing as his thoughts dragged him out of his spiral. If he never had to hear the waves again, if he never had to taste the tang of salt on the air or smell that godawful stench of brine and fish when the ships made harbour… well, that sounded like a dream come true.

He hated it, hated everything about it. The cold, the wet, the taste, the smell.

The sight of it.

And yet… he couldn’t pull his eyes away.

He glared again at the water, the dazzling turquoise and gold, the sun’s rays hitting the mirrored surface and casting a glittering rippling reflection towards him. Tantalising, breath-taking, reminding him of everything he’d lost, everything he’d ever dreamed of. It sunk its claws into that painful, desperate hope that had been crushed all those years ago when he had been forced to leave his home, his family and that dream behind. Pierced the armour that he had encased it in and let the feeling bleed out and bubble to the surface.

The water called to him plaintively. Beseechingly.

Join us…

He had everything now. He had a family. His two bright sparks were set to go home, he no longer had to worry for their safety in his care. His brother was in the house, still asleep but alive and warm and breathing. Not only that, he wanted this. He was the one that had dragged these thoughts back to the forefront. Had been the first chink in the shell, weakening it for his own mind to fill in the blanks and get the heart of the dream beating once more. He could feel the sun warming him to his core, optimistic and hopeful as it pulled him in. His eyes softened, losing their sharp edge, as they followed the blue waves all the way to the horizon and back again, drifting up and down with their ebb and flow.

A small boat caught his attention, dragging his gaze away from the waves as he felt himself slip into a peaceful daze. He drank in the details, the bright white sail, the glistening metal and dazzling paint casting shadows on the water. Sleek and strong and ready to take on the tides.

A small smile slipped across his face as the boat turned, dark black lettering becoming visible as he watched it from his spot.

“Stan’O’War… no, the Stan’O’War II.” The smile crinkled up further as he continued to imagine, to dream up the perfect boat bobbing on peaceful waters.

For just a second the rational, pragmatic part of his brain tried to stop the musings short but the dream pushed past, bright and scalding and refusing to back down.

He’d scrimped and saved for years. He’d done everything to keep the house, to pay off the debts, to keep the lighthouse in working order wherever possible, to make sure Ford needn’t worry once he returned.

They had the funds. If they were doing this, it had to be perfect.

He wondered where it would go first. What exotic warm places they would find. White sandy beaches bedecked with shells. Unexplored islands and deep forests with foliage the sun could only scatter through, littering the floor in a dappled path.

Old rotten chests filled with glittering gems and shiny gold pieces. Cryptic clues and weather aged maps leading to long lost treasures.

Birds covered in an array of coloured feathers, fish skimming the foam with shimmering scales.

The full expanse of the open water around them, the turquoise, tantalising, glittering jewel that would be their home and the open blue sky above.

The full array of stars in all their glorious constellations when the sun went down and the moon turned the waters black and silver, the pinprick stars reflected in the dark waters as he leant over the railing.

Monsters staring back at him from the dark below the surface. Poisonous glowing yellow eyes and sharp needled fangs twisted in a grin, glistening in the moonlight.

Stan flinched back, blinking away the image. The boat vanished with every flutter, the sun leaving twisted mangled shapes behind his eyelids.

“No. No, what am I thinking?”

His face turned sour, a bitter taste slipping down his throat and sinking the dream to the pit of his stomach. Fear bit cold as another gust of wind blew off the sea, the blue open expanse of sky mocking him, making him doubt the sun had really had chance to warm him or the beach yet at all.

It was all a trick, all a mirage. That was all it ever had been.

A hopeless dream.

But-

“No.” Stan snarled, the sound bursting out of him in a boom of energy.

He’d done so much, he’d worked so hard to be stood here. He’d strived and strived to reach his goal, to pull his brother back from the depths. Night after night, day after day. Wherever and whenever he could he had worked tirelessly.

And his efforts had paid off.

Was he going to throw that all away? So they could follow some childish dream that had never stood a chance?

Could he really put them both in that position? Let them try and fail and start the entire process all over again?

All for the hope that maybe this time- this time it would turn out OK?

That just this once they could have everything they ever dreamed of?

Real life doesn’t work that way.

His scowl deepened, his eyebrows furrowing as he turned his back on the water and started the long walk back to the shack before anyone else woke up.

Goals could be reached, but impossible dreams always stayed impossible. And he would not risk it all again.

He wouldn’t be able to live through losing him again, he knew it.

And if he was the one to give the OK, to let that dream fester and grow in Ford until it couldn’t be ignored- it would be his fault and his alone when everything fell around their ears once more.

He’d never forgive himself.

The sea continued to fool him, to trick him. He couldn’t believe he’d almost let himself wonder what it would be like, almost let the dream bubble up through him and eclipse common sense.

Ford would just have to live with it.

There were other ways. They could go explore the world by road, by air, never setting foot on the open water.

No matter how much it called to them both. Called to his heart, seeped into his pores. He tried to ignore the sun on his back as he traversed the steps, his mind on car journeys and the open road. Pulling up at gas stations, liminal spaces in the dead of night that gave the mysterious vibe his brother longed for as they grabbed supplies and asked whoever was there if they had seen anything out of the ordinary- which would be more often than not in places like those. Songs fizzling softly through an old radio as he hummed along, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. The scratching sound of a pen as his brother scribbled away in the passenger seat, glancing up to smile as he sang along under his breath without realising to keep himself awake.

But it all sounded flat even to his own ears, the images grey, dull and lifeless. He tried to drum up the intrigue, drum up the feeling of adventure, the gleam that the ocean held but the roads were filled with dust and sand, the sun baking and burning the images to a painful white or covered by thick clouds that refused to show the scenes in all their glory.

And worst of all, the image of his brother smiling grew sad and wistful whenever Stan stopped looking at him head on, when he thought he was no longer looking at all.

Why? His fists tightened at his sides as he stopped on the steps up, wanting more than anything to punch something. Why can’t I imagine us adventuring the same way?

Why does it have to be the sea? It’s not fair. I don’t want it, I hate it. I hate everything about it. I don’t want to think about it, to debate it. The answer should be simple. Logical even. Why can’t Ford see that? …Why can’t I?

“I can.” Stan didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath until it hissed out of him. “That’s the problem. All I’ve ever wanted was to go on an adventure with my bro, the sea just got all jumbled up in that.” He scrubbed at his face, letting the words pour out of him. Saying them out loud made them real, made them stop swirling in a vicious cycle in his head. “But even though I want to, I know deep down we can’t. I can’t- it’s not an option.” The words began to stutter, his heart beating fast.

It’s too much. I’m terrified. I can’t lose him again, not now, not so soon.

And the one thought that he wouldn’t even admit to himself that laced all of it, and flashed into his dreams to startle him awake was the image of Ford, disappointed with his answer.

The panicked nightmares that his brother would leave without him- again. Would say that he understood but that he couldn’t stay on land with him and no matter what Stan did, he’d always slip away. Like sand through his fingers, he’d blink and there he’d be, out on the water in the dead of night and the water would bubble and hiss and drag him back down to the ocean floor and nothing he did could prevent it.

He could never do anything right. Whatever answer he chose led to disaster, every turn, every offshoot always led to the same fate.

That cackling laugh, the beady yellow lights below the water, and his brother once again somewhere he couldn’t follow.

And no matter what happened, it all connected to the sea.

The sea would be his ruin. The risks were just too large for him to take the plunge.

You can persuade him, persuade him to stay. You’ll think of something.

Stan nodded to himself, opening his eyes as he continued to walk towards the Shack, the lighthouse tall and imposing behind it.

And in that moment his eyes grew wide, his steps faltering for a moment until the momentum of his thoughts kept him moving upwards, onwards.

He couldn’t leave. It didn’t matter if he wanted to or not.

That monster- that thing was still out there.

What kind of person would he be if he abandoned the gateway that kept him locked down there? If he just left the lighthouse with no one to man it, left them with absolutely no clue how to keep the light from ever returning?

Even now he didn’t understand how he’d turned it on, didn’t know how to make sure it never flickered on again.

And that was his job. He’d accidentally become the lighthouse keeper.

His duty hadn’t ended yet.

Ford would understand that, wouldn’t he?

Making sure no one ever fell for the same tricks they did?

Making sure that creature never saw the light of day, never escaped the prison that held it.

Ford could help him figure out the lighthouse once and for all. Wasn’t that the biggest mystery out there? One worth exploring more than anything else?

“Mr Pines? Mr Pines!”

Stan jumped out of his reverie, too in his own little world to notice anything around him until Soos was stood less than a meter ahead of him. He flinched, hand clutching at his chest, his heart beating a painful tune on his ribcage as he bent down low, thoughts instantly distracted. “Christ, Soos, a little more warning next time.”

“Sorry, Mr Pines, I did call out to you a few times but you seemed to be thinking extra hard.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was.” Stan coughed, straightening up, gaze irritated and put out by the interruption, though he couldn’t stay mad at the apologetic look on the boy’s face. “What are you doing here, kid? It’s hours til we open.”

Soos blinked a few times as if he’d forgotten himself before a bright smile overtook him. “Oh! There was a meeting in town last night and I wanted to let you know as soon as I could.”

“Yeah? It couldn’t wait? I’m kind of busy.”

“Oh.”

Stan sighed, his brush off attempts making his heart sink at the dejected noise behind his back. He didn’t need to look to know what expression was on Soos’s face. “Oh- alright. You twisted my arm. What’s so important?”

“No, you’re right. It can wait until my shift.”

Stan growled, turning back to him and gesturing for him to continue. “Nah, you’re here now. Might as well hear you out.”

He tried to ignore how the guilt eased as soon as Soos beamed at him.

“Thanks, Mr Pines! Well, you see- we had a town meeting last night, an emergency one. They’d decided to leave it until it was clear that everyone was alright before- anyway.” Soos seemed to trip over his words but Stan waited patiently, not wanting to slow the process down by asking questions or trying to hurry him. “After you and the other Mr Pines almost got stuck in that storm-”

“Really? You had a meeting about that? I got us out of there, didn’t I?” Stan couldn’t help the interruption, indignation making his words sharper than intended.

“Yeah! I told them that! But the point wasn’t that you did, but how they could have helped more.” Soos’s eyes flickered to the lighthouse. “How a light would have helped more.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah well, you know all about that light and why it shouldn’t ever be allowed on- hell, I think you knew long before recent events.”

“Of course! Abuelita’s always told me stories, she said they’ve been passed down through the generations.” Soos puffed up, a smirk worming on to Stan’s face at the sight. “You should have seen Wendy’s face when I told her my theories had been right all along.”

Stan snorted. “I bet. All those times we…” He sighed then, his hand going behind his head as he grimaced. “Listen, I am sorry, Soos. There were a lot of times I knew you were right about that old lighthouse but I… I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop, not when-”

“Not when the other Mr Pines was down there, I get you.”

Stan huffed. “You know, Sixer has asked you to call him Ford.”

Soos winced. “Yeah, right- I am trying, but that’s gonna take a while.”

Stan shrugged him off. “I know, I know. But back on topic-” His gaze turned suspicious, worried even as he eyed Soos. “This meeting- you did tell them why we can’t have that light on, right?”

“I didn’t have to!” Soos shook off the nerves, smiling brightly. “They’ve seen how that old lights flickered over the years. I mean, everyone knows, or at least thinks they know, you never went up there so they think all the equipment up there’s a lost cause. Plus what with all the ghost stories you’ve told over the years, no one volunteered to go near the thing.” He turned, shielding his eyes as he looked across the small town. “They’re thinking of building a new lighthouse. Over on the other side of the bay. A proper working one, not just a novelty. That way we have light and you can still keep the Mystery Shack open, or- you know, take a break what with your brother being back and all.”

Stan hummed, thoughts ticking over slightly. The hope had returned, peeking its head up through his ribcage, though he had yet to notice it himself yet.

His words ran away with him though.

“Yeah, a break might be in order. There’s a lot of lost time there we need to make up for.”

Soos nodded understandingly. “Yeah, everyone thought as much. You risked your life and almost lost your bro’s as far as they’re concerned. They want to make sure you take it easy.”

“Oi!” Stan huffed at him, hands on his hips. “Soon enough you’ll be calling me an old timer like Windy does.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that it? Was she there yesterday?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Soos looked away from him, obviously lying.

Stan sniffed, turning his head away. “You two little traitors, I’m not that old.”

Soos only hummed, his face innocent though Stan saw straight through him. His face soon turned serious though. “So, how’s other Mr Pines doing?”

Stan’s thoughts shifted, smiling away as he thought of his brother’s progress. “He’s doing great! He’s up and about and raring to go. The old nerd wants to get back to his research. Go out on an adventure like we always planned-” He coughed, his earlier thoughts of sailing manifesting again. “So, I’m thinking a road trip might be in order. Us two on the open road, getting to know each other again.”

“What about the Mystery Shack?”

Stan blinked, Soos trying to hide the sadness but failing miserably. He smiled sadly, understandingly. “Well, it’ll always be here when we return. Heck, I’ll charge a fortune when I get back with a whole new bunch of tales. Make exclusive one of a kind tours.” He winked playfully. “Don’t worry, old employees will get a discount.” He felt his heart sink though as his own words tripped him over. “Though, I mean, I could always use a caretaker, you know. To make sure that no one goes near the lighthouse and whatnot… if you’d want the job, that is.”

Soos’s face shifted guiltily, his feet kicking at the floor as he looked away. “A-actually.” He gulped before straightening his back, hope glistening in his eyes as he stood tall in front of Stan. “As I was always your assistant, the townspeople thought if you didn’t want the job as the new Lighthouse Keeper then… the job was there if I wanted it.” He deflated suddenly, worry blossoming across his face. “I-I mean, if you think that’s a good idea. I’d still look after your house! Of course! I’m still your handyman first and foremost.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you were the Apprentice Lighthouse Keeper first and foremost.” Stan could feel pride warming up his chest, all plans and thoughts of the future put aside as he looked at the young man ahead of him, once more standing tall in his gaze. The boy had been with him for years when no one else had, the family he had accidentally made for himself, a bond he had tried to pretend didn’t exist. “Looks like you’ll finally be getting that promotion I always promised you.”

“You don’t want the job-”

“Nah, I said, didn’t I? I’m having a break from it all. Besides-” He stretched, giving the boy an appraising look flippantly. “I only ever posed as a Lighthouse Keeper, now didn’t I? You’re young, you can learn all the ropes with a new-fangled light. Can you imagine this old dog trying to learn new tricks?” His smile turned ironic, more thoughtfully and glowing with pride that made Soos puff out under the scrutiny. “Look at you. You’re already doing better than me. You’re gonna be a proper Keeper.”

Soos deflated slightly, a frown marring his features. “You were a proper Keeper.”

Stan snorted, looking down at himself. “Kid, I might wear the uniform but you know full well the only reason I worked on that light was to get Sixer home.”

Soos shook his head fervently. “No. You kept everyone safe. That’s the job of a Lighthouse Keeper, isn’t it?”

Stan raised an eyebrow at him, glancing at himself once more. “Kid, I don’t know what you think you saw over the years but I can tell you that you’re wrong there.”

“Is the whole town wrong, then?” Soos smirked as Stan’s mouth snapped shut with a confused tilt. “I’ve got big shoes to fill, but I’ll make you proud, Mr Pines.”

“I’m sure you will.” Stan muttered, coughing slightly as the sappy words left him. “Right, off with you. Go celebrate with your Abuelita or that girl you keep telling me about or something.” He shooed him away, trying to be gruff. “Go on, quick before I change my mind and make you work longer hours today just because you’re here.”

“But-”

Stan pushed at Soos’s back. “You’ve got a lot of training ahead of you, kid, you won’t be able to celebrate later. And remember- I’ll be trusting you to make sure to keep the tales alive. Make sure no one goes near this old lighthouse.”

Soos stumbled forward, thrumming with excitement. “I’ll do my best, Mr Pines!”

“I know, I know- now get going already.”

“Thanks, Mr Pines. I’ll be back though- as you said I need training, and the best teacher available is here.”

“Heh, yeah right. If I gave you lessons, kid, it would be coming out of your pay check.”

“Deal! Let me know when would be best tomorrow!”

“What?” Stan blinked, Soos dashing off in the interim. “Wait, you weren’t meant to agree to that! It was a joke!”

“Then you shouldn’t have said it Mr Pines!”

And with that he was gone, before Stan could argue any further.

Stan closed the door behind him, leaning against it with a proud laugh.

Soos had got one over on him. “I really am getting old, aren’t I?”

His earlier debating thoughts had been halted, the encompassing knowledge that the light would never have the chance to spark to life ever again giving him immense satisfaction.

He was sure for a second he heard an angry hiss, a sharp vicious sound that whistled through the cracks in the door. His smile grew victorious, feral and filled with teeth.

The town knew, the warning was there without their knowledge of the creature.

It was stuck on the ocean bed and no one would ever need to enter the old lighthouse again, never bat an eyelid at the light not functioning when the new lighthouse shone a beacon across the waves for all, with the trusted keeper making sure it never faltered.

Soos would make a good keeper, Stan knew that, the handyman had proved himself time and time again and pride blossomed thick and fierce in his rib cage.

And then the feeling vanished, leaving him hollow, cold and uncertain.

His smile dropped, his gaze glazing over as he slipped back into his spiralling thoughts.

His excuse against sailing away had just been dashed against the rocks.

That bubbling, fizzling hope had ignited without his say so at Soos’s words, his efforts to dampen it being halted at every opportunity.

If he couldn’t even convince himself, how would he ever convince Ford?

“I thought you were going to wake me from now on if you couldn’t sleep?”

Stan jolted out of his small reverie, looking up only when a shadow blocked his view of the TV. He raised an eyebrow at his brother’s hands on hips, the little scolding lilt to his expression that tried to hide an amused smile. A snide comment was on the tip of his tongue at the large cloak of a blanket that was draped around his shoulders but he refrained.

Even so, Ford didn’t need to know Stan was doing anything other than unwinding for the night, didn’t need to know he’d been yet again thinking about his proposition, had been weighing up all the pros and cons just like he always seemed to do when given precious moments to himself. “What? Its midnight, Sixer, that’s hardly late. I was just watching some terrible movies, that’s all.” He shrugged, taking a swig of his drink before shuffling over so that there was space for Ford to sit beside him. “I’m still not used to sleeping, especially not early, so I thought the drone might help me drift off, that’s all.” His eyes flickered to his brother as he made himself comfortable. “How about you? I thought you went up hours ago. Couldn’t you sleep?”

“I was reading.” Ford sniffed, settling in, draping the blanket he’d had around him over both of them before snuggling closer into it. “I thought after a few chapters I’d feel tired but then I… uhh… finished the book?” His words turned sheepish, scratching at his cheek awkwardly before his face brightened. “Besides, if I’d fallen asleep I’d have missed the chance to watch movies.”

“…You are such a child. Always thinking if you sleep you’ll miss out on something fun.”

“Well in this case, I was right, wasn’t I?” Ford grinned, victorious even as Stan snorted and shook his head.

“Right? I already said they were terrible, didn’t I? Though let’s see if I can’t find something a bit more interesting at the very least.”

Ford watched patiently as the TV clicked, letting the quick images that flowed past relax him as he sluggishly wondered what was happening from the short spurts they caught. He yawned, but tried to disguise it. “Can- can you find something with this Casper in?”

Stan huffed out a laugh, covering it with a cough to try and stop him from getting too loud. “Not on your life. You can find out that one on your own.”

Ford sulked, leaning back in the chair with an annoyed grumble. It only added to Stan’s smile though, playful and teasing, and Ford had hoped for that reaction if he was really honest. “I guess I’ve got my first mystery to solve then.”

“Guess so- oh, this is quite a good one.”

He shook his head, letting Stan explain the first twenty minutes of the movie they had missed without prodding back to the earlier teasing. The steady drone of the movie would have slowly sent him to sleep he felt, but Stan’s animated description of what they had missed was doing more to keep him awake than the screen.

Luckily for him, Stan didn’t seem at all perturbed when he laughed at a particularly bad death scene as it appeared, nor the very wooden monster that shuffled out afterwards.

Not that Stan kept quiet about it.

“What you laughing at?”

“Uhh, just the… realistic nature of the movie.”

“Heh. Thought so. I thought we could do with a decidedly unrealistic one.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Good, because we haven’t even got to the best worst bit yet.”

The night continued, the pair getting into the movie more and more as it got deeper into the plot, not because it was necessarily good but because the terrible dialogue and bright pink blood kept waking the pair of them up in fits of giggles.

“Did you see that person in the background?”

“The camera guy? Or the dramatic death that stole the show from the lead?”

Ford blinked, following Stan’s finger to the cameraman who was still on display even minutes after first catching sight of him. He erupted into silent giggles, grinning brightly as they both grew more and more disbelieving at no one seeming to notice him.

“Wow, scrap what I said, this is a terrible movie.”

“That’s what makes it so good.”

Stan bit his lip, shrugging. “That or we’re both more tired than we thought and everything is funnier than it should be.”

Ford nodded along with him, the pair quietening down into a warm, happy hush, small smatterings of mirth intersecting it all.

It was in this warm, glow of a late evening that Ford thought it might be ok to bring up their earlier conversation once more.

He’d given him a few days, he didn’t mean to keep asking but-

The anticipation, the waiting, was killing him.

He didn’t care, or he pretended not to care, about the answer. Only that Stan let him know what it would be.

“Hey, Stan?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you- uhm- you know, thought any more on-”

The air grew decidedly colder before he could even finish the question.

“Never mind. Ignore me, just wondered if you were thinking about… let’s just continue watching the movie.” Ford cursed himself, cursed his insatiable curiosity as Stan’s smile vanished to a thoughtful and conflicted expression. There was something there that made him hopeful, all that confliction, but it also sent a shiver down his spine.

He was causing that turmoil, that inescapable battle that Stan seemed to be locked in.

Maybe he hadn’t made it clear enough.

“Stan, don’t- I don’t mind what the answer is. I only asked you if you’d think about it more, give me an answer then, you know?”

“If…”

Ford’s ears perked up, his back straightening as he leaned forward. “Yes?”

“If I said no… would you still go out there?”

Ford frowned, not quite looking at Stan as the man shifted over to watch him. Too caught up in his own thoughts at the question, he didn’t realise how hawkishly he was being observed, how Stan sat gauging him for any reactions.

“I… are you worried I’d leave you behind again?” The words whistled out into the dead of night. He can almost see them fall flat and heavy in the crystalline air, loud and clear when all he wanted was to drag them back in where they couldn’t sit between them. Stan had frozen where he sat and he could hear his thoughts ticking away, wondered just how much his mind had looped and twisted over that question.

He couldn’t let that question eat away at him any longer.

“Stan, nothing you say will ever make me leave you behind.” He felt more than saw Stan relax and there was a deep seated ache in his core that his brother would- could think otherwise.

“But you want to. Go out there, that is.”

Ford nodded, his fingers fidgeting along the fabric to keep his thoughts in a line. “Yeah, I’d like to but- and this isn’t meant as a guilt trip, I assure you- but it really wouldn’t be the same without you.” He smiled, finally glancing over at his brother apologetically. “I’m not saying I can promise I’ll never go out on the water. There are mysteries on land and on sea that I have to solve, Stan, and if a mystery points out there on the open water… I can’t say I wouldn’t take the chance.”

“Even with that-”

“Even with the monsters out there.” Ford could only hope his determination had overridden Stan’s concerns as his mouth snapped shut.

He watched him give a whistling breath, the air hissing out of pursed lips as he seemed to think everything over.

Ford waited, holding his own breath in anticipation, obliviously hopeful that even if he had no idea why he had asked those questions, that Stan was about to say that he wanted to as well. Wanted to take on the world even with the nightmares that inhabited it.

That was his Stan, the one he remembered, ready to fight the world and win.

The world grew that much colder when Stan spoke again.

“Alright, I get the message. I’ll come with you sailing.” Stan kept his gaze on his hands, his fingers twiddling together nervously. “I can’t have you sailing on your own, I just can’t- so, I’ll come too.”

“No.”

Stan turned, eyebrows furrowed but Ford couldn’t think how to make things right in that moment.

Everything hurt.

Stan didn’t want to sail with him.

But that wasn’t even the worst part.

“What? Sixer, I just said I’d go sailing with you. I thought you’d be over the moon.”

“You said you would. Not that you wanted to.” It was Ford’s turn to scrutinise his brother as Stan’s face twisted awkwardly.

“I mean- I don’t-” Stan sighed, running a hand through his hair before his expression soured. “Fine. Honestly? It’s not the smartest idea you’ve had, Sixer. I’ve been thinking it over and over and over and-” He leant forward, his head in his hands. “It’s not even that I don’t want to, not really- there’s just so much… but what I want doesn’t matter. Not really.”

“It does. Don’t say that.”

Stan waved a hand at him. “No. What matters most is that the thought of you going out to sea on your own terrifies me more than anything else. I mean watching you go under has haunted my nights for near on thirty years.” The words were quiet, muffled, and Ford almost wondered if he was meant to be hearing them as Stan pulled away just enough so that his words rang clear. “What matters is, I can’t stop you going out there. I knew I’d never be able to. And that’s not a guilt trip either, I’m glad that you’re not scared of it all, honestly. But I can’t have you going it alone, so I’ll join you.”

“No. Plain and simple, no.” Ford stood up, letting the blanket drop from him before he squatted in front of Stan. He took his shoulders in his hands, pushing at them until Stan looked up and locked eyes with him.

His eyes seemed so tired Ford almost wished he’d never asked the question in the first place.

“Right, Stan, you listen to me. You do not have to do anything.” Ford shook his head when Stan opened his mouth to disagree. “No, you really don’t. If you really are that scared, then… I’ll think about not going out there.” His brother’s face twisted into a guilty relief, his mouth hanging open, no real sound able to make it past his shocked thoughts. “Maybe, I will go out there, but it wouldn’t be sailing. Not like we always planned. A daytrip or two, that kind of thing… But Stan, when I said it wouldn’t be the same without you I really meant that.” His hands squeezed tighter, his face genuine and sad that Stan had thought otherwise. “And that doesn’t just mean you physically being there. There’s no point us going if only one of us wants to go. I’m sorry if it came across as anything otherwise.” He smiled sadly. “I want us both to want to go adventuring, otherwise there’s no point. And if you don’t want to- that’s OK. I won’t ask again.”

With that, as Stan continued to sit silently, thoughtfully, he stood up, shuffling over to curl back up in the warm. He closed his eyes in silent relief when Stan settled slowly beside him too. “How about you tell me what we’ve missed in the movie?”

“Y-Yeah, OK- and Sixer?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

You don’t need to thank me.

Ford couldn’t get the words out and start another debate, not when his brother’s gaze had softened, relieved and genuinely grateful for his response. He just wanted to get that cosy glow back to the room. When it had been filled with laughter and soft banter instead of cold, thick conversations.

Stan shook off the conversation quickly, for which Ford was eternally grateful, even if his smile seemed less genuine than before. Or as if something was preoccupying him, even as Ford tried desperately to bring everything back around.

Another movie started before he finally felt like the atmosphere had well and truly vanished.

It was a lot later even than that, however, as his eyes drooped and his head rested against his brother’s shoulder that he felt Stan shift and turn his head towards him. He decided not to move, not wanting Stan to know he had disturbed him at all.

“You know, I really was thinking about it. And… part of me does want to…”

Ford held his breath, keeping his eyes closed shut, scared if he opened them the moment would end before Stan finished.

“…That’s the problem. Deep down I want to and it scares the hell out of me.”

His heart sunk, snuggling into the warmth and pulling up the blankets in a feign of sleep to cover Stan more as he shivered. He knew he wasn’t actually cold, and it was the icy presence of whatever his mind was conjuring up that was causing the shakes but it was all he could think to do and still pretend he was asleep.

Stan sighed, tugging at the blanket as well before finally settling down similarly.

He waited until he felt his brother’s breath even out, his muscles relaxing before he sat up slowly, scrutinising him. At least in sleep Stan’s worried frown had eased, his furrowed conflicting emotions evening out to a peaceful slumber.

“It’s OK, Stan. Whatever you decide is OK.”

“Up here again I see.”

Stan huffed, glancing over his shoulder with a subtle childish smirk. “Don’t give me that look. It’s not the middle of the night, Sixer.” He turned away from him, his eyes back on the horizon as he gestured at Ford to join him. “Besides, I did shout before I left, told everyone where I was going. The view up here is great when the sun’s setting.”

“We were a bit busy packing to really respond though.” Ford shook his head, walking to stand beside his brother, his face curious and concerned as he glanced over at him, though he tried to hide it behind a scolding expression. “I thought you were looking for Mabel’s, uhh, ‘Merhorse’ teddy that we couldn’t find so you didn’t have to help pack?”

“I found it.” Stan glanced down, the soft weird teddy still in his hand.

He hadn’t wanted to give it back to her just yet, making up some weird convoluted story in his head that if he didn’t give it back, they would have to come back and see him quicker.

Or at least he could use it as an excuse to phone them or-

“You not ready for them to leave?”

Stan sighed at Ford’s words. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” He gave a sad smile as he looked up, his plans scattered to the winds behind reality. “But summer doesn’t last forever.”

“And neither does anything else. They’ll be back visiting before you know it.” Ford plucked the small fluffy creature from Stan’s hands giving it a once over with obvious distaste. “And as awful as these creatures are in real life, we can’t have our favourite niece going home without her favourite toy.”

Stan laughed as Ford nudged him. “Alright, alright, I’ll give it back to her.” He swiftly stole it back from his twin, hugging it tight, dignity be damned.

He might have to give it back but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take what comfort he could and pretend he was hugging Mabel for a few moments.

“Good.” Ford nodded, gesturing behind them. “Should we-”

“No- not yet. Not now.” Stan scrunched up his face distastefully. “I don’t want to see their packed bags just yet.”

“They’re still going to be here tonight, and tomorrow morning. We’re just getting what we can packed up ready.”

“I know, I know.” Stan gave another long, deep sigh. “It just makes it real seeing all their bright colours vanish from everywhere.”

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence for a while, Ford giving him the quiet that he desperately needed and hated all at once. It was like trying to school himself, back into what it was like before the two whirlwinds invaded his life.

Getting him ready, prepared.

But he still didn’t like it.

And there was still so much hanging over them.

With another small noise of dissent, he spun, putting the small stuffed creature on top of the lantern so that he didn’t do something he regretted whilst they had their conversation. He took a few deep breaths, feeling Ford’s eyes burning into his back before he finally found it in him to turn back to him, his face once again a myriad of emotions that he couldn’t seem to hide.

“Ford, about sailing.”

Ford blinked, eyes widening before he shook his head. “It’s fine. I thought we’d been over this, I’m sorry for pushing-”

“No, now it’s your turn, Sixer. Stay quiet for a second. This is hard enough as it is to explain.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing just like he had what felt like years ago when it was only a week at most. He was grateful when Ford stayed quiet, waiting for him to get his thoughts together enough to push through the block in his mind. Though once he did, the words flowed and flowed and he couldn’t get them to stop. “I do want to, Sixer, really I do. It wasn’t until you said that we didn’t need to go unless I actually wanted to that I finally admitted to myself that deep down- I do. I really do. But we can’t. As much as we want to, I know that we shouldn’t. That creature is still out there, and that’s just one stinking bottom dweller- there’s an entire ocean of them that you want to tempt with a little sail boat. Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you again? If it was all my fault all over again-?”

Ford cut his words off, taking quick strides that silenced him. “Hey.”

“I’m just saying-”

“The truth? Far from it. Stan, if anything happens to me it would be my own fault. Just like last time.” He shifted every time Stan tried to turn away, always keeping him eye to eye. “This is everything we’ve ever dreamed about, Stanley. It’s right there for us to take. You just admitted that you wanted to.” Stan hated how his eyes gleamed the way they did. “Don’t you think it’s worth the risks? Worth a try to-”

“No- Yes- I don’t know!” Stan’s arms spread out, hands flitting uselessly as he struggled again to work it out. “I don’t get it. I hate the sea, I’ve sat here and hated it for so long. But now you’re back, I can’t seem to keep hating it. Why? Why do we both want to go sailing still? After everything?”

“Because you know deep down that the sea isn’t the problem. That the creature was.”

“It’s still out there.”

“So are a lot of things- good and bad. You’ll find them on land too. Both anomalies and humans and everything in between. Wherever we go there’ll be dangers, Stan. It’s just a fact of life.”

“It’s safe here.” He knew he should stay quiet, but he couldn’t seem to, not when Ford was knocking down the last few barriers, making it harder and harder to disagree.

“And is this what you want? To stay here?”

Stan shook his head. “No, not really.”

Ford nodded, eyes twinkling brightly. “Is it the sea? Is that too much? We could start with a road trip if that’s still on the table? You said about that before?”

Stan wanted to agree. Wanted more than anything to relax and nod and let Ford make the compromise but his mouth moved before he could stop it, being more honest than he ever wanted to be. “I want to sail.”

Ford beamed. “Then let’s sail.”

“It’s such a bad idea, though.” Stan pulled away, running his hand underneath his glasses with a small self-deprecating laugh. “Story of my life, why stop now?”

“Stan.”

“Sorry, sorry, everything’s just so jumbled in here.” Stan tapped on his head like there was something wrong and Ford pushed his hand away.

“You’re being logical, you’re thinking over every possible outcome, which means you’re taking this seriously. I’m proud of you.”

Stan choked on the words, not really sure how to take them.

Ford smiled sadly, nostalgia washing over them both. “It’s so unlike you, to not power recklessly ahead when you want something. I’m sorry if you’ve lost that ‘cause of me.”

“I just grew up, Sixer. I know, hard to believe.” Stan winked at him playfully, getting a shove. “I guess I might not have lost my determination but I don’t want to pick fights I can’t win, not when there’s more favourable outcomes by staying on the side-lines.”

“We were never meant to sit on the side-lines.”

Stan rolled his eyes, shoving his brother back, without another word, not really sure where to go with the conversation now.

Was that it? Settled? Would Ford stay where it was safe?

…Was he happy about that? Or just resigned?

“Come on.”

“Hmm?” Stan looked up again, his thoughts having threatened to overtake before he felt the hand on his arm pushing him forward.

Ford smiled gently, eyes flicking between Stan and the horizon. “You came up here to see the sunset, right? Let’s stop talking and watch.”

Stan nodded, eyes back on the view. Many a time had he stood up here alone, watching the sun rise and fall, mapped the ever changing colours and wished he had someone to share the scene with.

In that moment, a small sliver of courage overtook, some semblance of it at least, or maybe the need to prove himself to both of them after Ford’s comments on how much he had changed.

He didn’t like to play it safe, it ate away at him.

At least on some occasions he could be himself, even if not in the bigger scheme of things, when the outcomes were far more important.

“Here, the best view is from the balcony.” The door clicking open made the tight feeling around his heart ease. He didn’t think it would until they’d been stood out there for a while, but taking the plunge at all seemed to have made him relax. There was no taking away the offer now, without a decision to make it felt far more natural to open the door wide and walk out before his brother, clasping the cold metal railing to watch the sky turn a delightful pink without the glare of the glass around them.

He didn’t turn as Ford joined him a few seconds later, as if he hadn’t been prepared for the turn of events and had stuttered to a halt for a second. He gave a low appreciative whistle though as his eyes skimmed the view again. “You’re right, somehow it’s better out here.”

Stan gave an agreeable noise in return, trying to focus his gaze outwards instead of nervously following Ford, his protective instincts still flaring up at them both being so high up. He needed to know he could, needed to know that at least some of his fears were unfounded.

“Hey, Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember what Ma used to tell us about the dark?”

Stan’s gaze shot to him reproachfully, almost wondering whether to dignify the question with an answer. “Of course I do. What do you take me for?”

“Yeah? Well, what was it then?”

His eyes narrowed at the smirk on Ford’s face, sibling rivalry taking over before his brain could question what he was doing by bringing this up. “Ma told us we weren’t imagining things when we heard and saw stuff in the night, because there were creatures out there- that’s what started you up on all this weird anomaly stuff in the first place, wasn’t it?” He couldn’t help the quick quip back, amusement taking over as Ford grimaced at his wording.

“That’s only half of it. Go on.”

Stan shook his head, befuddled. “I dunno, what do you want from me? She told us that we should be careful and cautious of what was out there? But never show we’re afraid, ‘cause that makes things worse with those kinds of creatures-”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Ford leant his elbows on the railing, his eyes focused away from Stan as if worried how he might react. “As long as we know something’s out there, we shouldn’t be scared of it.”

Stan nodded, still not sure what was happening. “Yeah, that was it. I mean, what’s there to be afraid of if you know it’s there? You can fight back if you know what you’re up against.”

“Exactly.” Ford shifted, his face exuberant at the admission. “So, it’s the same with the sea, isn’t it? We know there are things out there now… I just don’t want them to win.”

Stan froze as his brother continued to watch him, his thoughts snapping together quickly as if suddenly everything made sense in a way it hadn’t since Ford had asked him that question and turned everything on its head.

He could hear his mother again, her voice soft and comforting but with that quiet strength he had always found far more reassuring.

“I’m here to tell you a secret. There is something in the darkness. And you can beat it, just like everything else. So don’t let fear drag you into the dark. Keep it close, use it to your advantage, and know you can win.”

“Oh.” The switch had flicked, the hesitance, the steadfast ‘logic’ that had stopped him for once plunging forwards crumbled in an instance. Time and time again he had made sure never to let fear pull him down. Had walked, straight backed when he saw things dart around him as he walked to the lighthouse, as wisps and whispers tried to get into his skull, and staunchly he ignored them all.

He knew what was out there, waiting for them in the sea.

So what was there to be afraid of?

He’d already beaten it once.

He couldn’t find the words to say it though.

“I mean, the monsters only win if we let them.”

“Oh.”

“…Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad one? Because I really can’t tell.”

Stan shook himself, the pained fretful note in Ford’s words bringing him back. He decided to play it up a bit, unable to resist as his twin grew restless beside him. He closed his eyes, gripping the railing harder. “Damn it…”

“OK, bad ‘oh’ it is- just ignore I ever said anything.”

“Appealing to my competitive streak, my one weakness.”

The world grew deathly silent. He chanced peeking an eye open, bursting out into laughter as Ford stared back at him slack jawed. “Trying to catch flies, there, Sixer?”

Ford’s mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he couldn’t quite remember how to speak before he found his voice again. “Does that mean…?”

“That I have no more arguments? Yeah, I guess it does.” Stan shrugged, scratching at his chin. “I said I wanted to, the only thing holding me back is fear- but that’s really dumb, isn’t it? What’s the point of being scared of those things out there? That’s what they want us to do.”

“You really mean it?”

The whisper was so filled with awe, so much anticipation for the future that Stan felt it rub off on him, felt that electric charge, the thrill of adventure finally fill him unhindered. “I really think I do.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll understand.”

“What is this? You getting cold feet now?” Stan laughed, the sound bubbling up as Ford shook his head violently. “Then stop with all that! Just be happy that I agreed.”

“I am- I really, really am!” Ford launched at him, wrapping an arm around him. “I just want you to know you can change your mind at any point. I don’t want you regretting anything.”

Stan grabbed hold of him, grumbling whilst gripping the railing tightly with the other hand. “You’re already making me regret this. That was a terrible idea. Have you forgotten how high up we are?”

“Yeah but we’re filled with them and that’s the fun of it!” Ford seemed to vibrate with energy, eyes lit up and dazzling as his brain started to work through plans already.

“…I guess it is.” Stan looked away, out over the shoreline, over the rocks and rolling waves, out towards where the sun was finally sinking completely from sight, touching the waves for one final time.

Only now, instead of an impossible distance, imposing and daunting, it instead held that childish optimism again. That dream like quality, that sudden urge to at the very least try.

That was where they were headed. On and on and on. Wherever the wind in their sails took them.

And not knowing was half the fun.

“Can we celebrate? Go out for dinner with the kids on their last night here and end today perfectly?”

“Now that really is the best idea you’ve had for a long time.”

We’re here. I can’t believe we’re here.

The excitement that had bloomed when Stan agreed, wholeheartedly agreed that he wanted to go on this trip, had only continued to grow as they had planned it all.

He knew Stan had still had his reservations, of course he did, but with every extra detail, every added precaution and conversation and opening up to one another about what they were hoping for, what they were nervous about, had lifted another weight from their shoulders.

And now here they were, finally on board the newly christened Stan’O’War II.

A dream come true. Finally they would set sail just like they had planned since they were ten years old.

It was hard to keep still. Stan had already teasingly remarked about his childish restlessness on more than one occasion- when they had found the perfect boat, when he found Ford’s giant to do list, when packing was complete and he had nowhere else to store all the energy still bubbling up. Every single time Stan had given that laugh that reminded him of when they were younger, exuberant and just as eager no matter how much he tried to say otherwise.

There was so much to do! So much to explore! He didn’t know where to start!

Should they follow the coastline? See what there was in more familiar waters? Or race ahead? Head straight into open waters and see what lay beyond the horizon?

Both were good options, anywhere was perfect.

The fact that they were doing this was all the incentive he needed to push forward and let the wind take them without a care in the world.

Maybe a plan of action wasn’t always strictly necessary.

The sound of static reached him from the open doorway, pulling his thoughts back to the present with a bright tranquil feeling. Soft music started to filter through as Stan found a station, humming along without a care in the world.

This is what he’d wanted.

This was what home felt like.

Sure the Shack had felt like home, but it wasn’t the building itself. It had been the gleaming sparks that were their Great Niblings filling up all the cracks and open air with just their illuminating presences.

But this, this was their childhood and their future and everything else all rolled into one.

He’d miss the kids, of course he would, but they were still with them.

He shook his head, the thought of the kids reminding him of the task at hand as he continued to fiddle with the decorations they had been entrusted with. The kids had sent a few care packages, promising to send more whenever they stopped off at port for a while and let them know where they were. He was already trying to anticipate what they would send, his elated surprise at their gifts so far warming his heart with pride.

They were such perceptive kids.

The radio for one was a gift from them both, they seemed to have noticed just as much as Ford how quickly Stan filled silences, not liking unnecessary dead air. The chatter in the diner always seemed to relax him whenever they visited, not to mention the inane questions and constant talking from his gullible tourists had somehow settled Stan more than if they were silent once his monologues were over.

He could only guess that it was a comfort, to stop himself from overthinking.

But it seemed Stan wasn’t the only one they had been watching. It was obvious that he liked the warm since coming home, but Stan had already seen to that, an entire box of warm clothing and assorted woollen blankets already strewn across the room. It wasn’t even September yet and they’d both agreed to go to warmer climes as the weather grew colder but even so they were well stocked just in case.

Sure, they had both been sent sweaters. Stan hadn’t been able to stay standing when he saw the octopus sweater that Ford had unwrapped, not until he had opened his own and both of them sat in shocked awe at the lighthouse that bedecked Stan’s own sweater, identical to the one that sat outside up to the actual flashing light near the collar.

The Lighthouse Keeper’s new uniform as Ford liked to call it, making sure the kids knew Stan was wearing it more often than not.

But those had been separate presents, something for both of them.

Stan’s present had been the radio, focusing on sound.

No, instead of warmth, for Ford the kids had focused on lights.

Which was where he found himself now, hooking up the long string of fairy lights that they had sent them, twisting them around as far as they would reach in the cabin so that wherever he looked there was light.

He’d turned them on before they’d left the Shack, a wash of pure appreciation threatening to engulf him when he realised there wasn’t a pure yellow light in sight, all of them switched out for a myriad of other warm shades- white, red, gold, orange- all melding together to make him feel safer and warmer than any blanket could.

A little safe haven on the cold, deep seas.

Because no matter how insatiable his curiosity was, he never wanted to take a trip that deep into the abyss again.

He was happy above the water, it was where they were meant to be.

Safe and off on an adventure.

The best of both worlds. A compromise.

As long as they were careful, the world was theirs.

“Sixer! Aren’t you done yet? The world’s not going to wait forever!”

“Almost!” Ford smiled as the lights flickered to life in front of him. He nudged them all a bit further apart, now able to see exactly where they were needed and where they weren’t as they lit up the small area, dusting his desk and his journal with specks of coloured light. His fingers skimmed across the little bulbs when he was satisfied with their placement, distracted in equal measures by their uplifting glow and by the giddiness in Stan’s voice, his thoughts waylaid from before.

There had been a marked cautiousness to him whilst they were getting ready, double and triple checking everything, making sure they knew what they were getting themselves into and what they would do in an emergency.

But once they were on the boat, all that caution had gone to the wind. He could hear his feet running up and down outside the cabin, tweaking this, fiddling with that. Unable to stop himself wanting to seize the moment and dive headfirst into the journey and worry about the consequences later.

The biggest kid of them all.

But Ford couldn’t fault him. Not when it seemed that seeing the boat had finally shifted the last of Stan’s doubts away and the fire in his blood had ignited all in one fell swoop.

“Come on, Sixer, you really gotta see this view! I was wrong before! The view from the lighthouse was great but nothing beats being out on the water!”

“Coming!” Ford bolted up and out of the small cabin, any thoughts of unpacking the rest of their items vanishing under the glee of what awaited them on the open sea.

It would take time for everything to be as it should be, they both knew that, there was a lot to do, a lot to take in.

A lot to learn. Both about what was out there and about one another.

And time was not on their side.

But they would continue to move forward, small happy chirps and booming laughter echoing through the empty cabin as heavy footsteps reverberated, the ship shuddering as it finally set sail, cutting through the waves. Shiny and new and raring for adventure as much as its occupants.

And unbeknownst to both of them, if you followed the small trail of lights in the cabin, the ones that wound over and under railings, trapped behind anything that would hold it up and keep the lights shining outwards… If you followed each bulb, counting them off one by one, the little fireflies that flickered a bright warm glow all around the room and decked the ceiling in fractured stars…

You’d come across a plug that had never made it to the wall. Both occupants far too preoccupied with the draw of the infinite horizon to remember to finish the job.

But even so each light glowed on, bright and strong and would continue to do so, day and night as dazzling as that first day.

That first day when hope burned bright and even though the lighthouse keeper had passed on his duties to another, the gleaming world of possibilities had opened up before them.

On to a new adventure, a new journey filled with light and warmth and dreams turned into realities.

And with that realisation, as the future finally became clear, each and every place the light keeper dreamed of, each story to tell the kids back home, lit another bulb in the chain. A chain reaction so fast and full of wonder not one bulb was left unlit.

The light keeper had finally turned on the light. And the light had seen fit to stay with him.

His reward for his steadfast service and determination.

All he had to do was focus, keep the things he held dear close to his chest and let them guide him forward. The bright light of a brother beside him, filled with anticipation. The rays of pure sunlight that were his niblings, giving him purpose and guiding him safely home. The pinprick flickering stars, the people he had met along the way and even after all this time, still wished them well and waited for them to come back home.

As long as he kept all those people in mind, ignored the wisps that might darken his doorstep and the darkness that even now tried to slip through the cracks that would take time to heal completely, the lights would continue to glow for him.

And if those lights were to dim on occasion? Flicker and fade and lose their warmth?

If he ever forgot that people cared?

Well, then it’s for the best that neither of them are all alone in the dark anymore.

Sure, there might be a lot of things ahead of them.

Dangerous, magical exciting adventures, trials and tribulations, and a whole world to explore.

An overwhelming journey, both good and bad and everything in between.

They never had been ones to stay put and stay safe. Never ones to stay on the well-trodden trail, to cautiously take a step back and wait instead of carving their own path forward.

But they would always have each other, and there would always be hope to guide them on their way.

As long as they knew where to look.

.

Thanks for joining us on this adventure x There’ll be more in this AU very soon but this story has ended ♥ Thanks again to Ran for giving me this awesome opportunity to write to my hearts content on this one and for giving every chapter a lovely piece of your artwork to really bring it all to life. @sightkeeper You’re amazing, your art’s amazing ;A; love you friend!

#gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls #lighthouse keeper au #stanley pines #stanford pines #bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #the light keeper

[bornfromscarletcords]

A Wolf’s Winter By Malcolm Fidel Jefferson

The wolf's eyes were red. The pair matched the scarlet outline tracing the beast's great muzzle. The boy marveled at how carefully they watched him. Perfect orbs of light; their color emphasized by the white of the stale snow. The beast matched his gaze, its mouth clamped shut.  Blood froze to the grey of its coat, hanging from its chin like cherry ice. 

"Hello," The boy said, "My name is Anthony."  

*****

"And the dreams. Do you still have them?" Anthony looked at Dr. Connolly. His mouth tightened at the doctor's words, and he could feel his nails ripping at the soft leather of the couch. 

"Yes." Anthony said. He turned to face the wide glass pane. The doctor liked to keep it unmolested by the curtains he stashed in the corner of his office. Why he didn't just throw them away, Anthony couldn't tell. He was thankful, though. The view was humbling. His whole town laid out before him like some toy estate. Smoke drifted up from frostbitten chimneys: kids clambered through the snow heaps while their mothers held fast to plush gloves. 

"Did you say something?" The good doctor asked. 

"I said, Autumn died today." Anthony watched soft, frozen, flakes drift lazily down to earth. From the sky to that small town; from the heavens to the trees of the forest that bordered his home. Anthony touched his shoulder; it was warm. 

"Is that where it bit you?" The doctor's words were always slow and deliberate. Was his every word so valuable to him. 

"What?" Anthony said . He turned to face the man. It was the first time he truly looked at him. 

"Your shoulder. You seem to reach for it often. I was just wondering if that's where--"

"Where what? Doctor." Anthony said

"Where the wolf bit you." The doctor said. He adjusted his glasses, as if they could shield the affect of his patient's gaze.  Anthony laughed. It was loud and deep. It surrounded the good doctor as it bounced off the window pane: off his round lenses, the stark white tiles and the old brick walls. 

"Whoever told you it bit me?" Anthony said; nearly choking on his words through his fit. 

"I just assumed." 

"You assumed?! You assumed, doctor? I didn't know that you were paid to assume." Anthony said. His laughter resounded through the room.  

"What was I supposed to do? For weeks we've just sat here; in silence! 'Autumn died today.' That's the most I've gotten out of you in a month.  Do you expect me to read your mind? To interpret the thoughts you share only with yourself? " Doctor Connolly said. He tried to keep his hands from shaking. 

"I thought that was what you were trained to do, Doctor. To pry into other peoples' thoughts. To strip away their mental barriers, the only defenses some of us have. You want to take from people, to leech off of us. And for what? A paycheck. You want everything for nothing."  Anthony stopped laughing. The absence of his unnatural cacophony seemed to leave a gaping hole in the room. The doctor was teetering on the edge. 

"I give you my time." The doctor said. 

"No. You give me a couch, a view, and pointless questions. In exchange, I give you my silence. A fair trade." Anthony said. 

Doctor Connolly was turning an interesting shade of purple. Sweat began to bead around his forehead.  But Anthony just stared with his empty gaze and the good doctor began to shout. 

"You're a brat! A pissy brat throwing away your parents money! You're not even trying to get help!" It was then that the Doctor realized that he was standing with his hands balled at his sides. His patient was no longer in front of him.  

"Don't look so surprised, Doctor. I have that effect on people." Anthony said; his hand on the doorknob.   

Anthony saw people stumble along the pavement. Ice coated everything, from the lamppost to the streets covered in brown slush. One man nearly broke his nose sliding towards a fence. One quick jerk, though, and Anthony wrenched him to safety.  

"Thanks man. I nearly died there." He said. His breath was sour and he reeked of alcohol. Anthony let him go and the man swayed down the road. 

Anthony felt the warmth of the Rec center long before he opened its doors. The heat washed over him and he reveled in it as he paced through the lobby. He followed the music to the heart of the center and wasn't disappointed to see the mass of bodies. The must of sweat hung in the air as people twisted and shook to the rhythm of winter.  

Her eyes were closed as if lost in sleep, but her braids swung wild. Her lips, her hips, her body, it shimmered. She was a river. When she opened them, her eyes were drawn to Anthony. She flowed to him, weaving through the quivering limbs that separated them. Then she was there; in front of him with her dusky arms that wrapped around his neck. She stroked his cheeks and ran her fingers through his wooly hair as she pressed her skin against his.

"The lone wolf joins the pack. Is this a omen." She said, her mouth at his ear. Anthony grabbed her waist with both hands, drawing her in tight. Her neck craned back and He saw it illuminated by the flashing shades of the strobe light. Then she howled, her lips molded into a perfect circle, and he loved her for it. He added his voice to hers and soon the whole hall was filled with the baying of wolves.   

Anthony wasn't surprised to find his bed empty the next morning.  He shook the sleep off of his lanky frame and managed to throw on some pants. He met the morning frost with bare feet and chest; making puddles of water where he stepped. He found her behind the cabin, as he knew he would. She was romping through the snow; kicking up white fluff. 

"You hurt my feelings, is the snow so much more enticing than me." Anthony said. 

Then she was in his arms. She took him to the ground and they made a flurry as one tried to pin the other. They tumbled and rolled for yards before she finally held him down; pressing her hands to his shoulders. 

"The snow, just for your information, is a thousand times more lethal than you. You need practice pup." She said, laughing as he flipped her onto her back. 

"Perca, don't provoke me." He said. 

"The last time I did it ended pretty well. You always love it when I dance for you."  She said. She nuzzled her face to his cheek. "Come hunt with me." Her voice was soft. He looked in her eyes as one flashed yellow.

"Not now." Anthony said. He  looked to the building that reached above the houses and trees. 

"But I just got back. I spotted an elk herd in the valley. I bet they're still grazing." She said. 

"I have an appointment." He said and rose from the nest they made on the earth. Just as he reached the back door he felt something splash on his head. The snowball turned to water on his scalp. When he turned to scold the culprit she was gone, but her high laugh still echoed from the forest. 

"Anthony, I just wanted to apologize for my--uh--," Dr. Connolly began. 

"The word you're looking for is outburst, doctor. And you don't need to apologize, if I was truly angry, you'd already be dead." Anthony started laughing while the doctor scratched his head.  

"Ri--Right--um, I would like to think that we were finally making some kind of progress yesterday." The doctor said, taking his seat. Anthony followed his example and leaned back in the couch. 

"I was actually thinking the same thing, doctor.  Now that I know your a real person--" 

"What?" The doctor said. 

"I wanted to see your anger. I wanted to hear what was truly going on behind those glasses. And I'm satisfied. So, we can now began to share." Anthony said

"Great I--"

"Not so fast doc. I want to be clear. I'll give you answers, but the questions better not beat around the bush. Also, I think it's only fair that you should tell me a little about yourself as well." Anthony said, fixing the man with his stare. 

"Like what?"  He asked, shifting in his chair. 

"I haven't thought of it yet. so I guess you can start my interrogation." 

"Well, why did you request that we do this here? Why in this town?" The Doctor asked. 

"Because I was born here." He said 

"But your parents said--" 

"You mean adopted parents. My real mother died when I was six and my father died long before I was born." 

"So you didn't have any older relatives to take you in? An uncle or aunt, even an older sibling?"

"I had a brother, but he was only a baby." 

"Is he still alive?" The doctor said. Anthony grounded his teeth. 

"Drop it." He said. 

"So after the death of your parents, what happened?" 

" I spent seven years in the orphanage on the other side of town. Then the Greysons adopted me and took me away from my home. They tried to tame me, but they would've had more luck with the wind. They should've just chose one of the younger kids." Anthony said 

"So, you resent them?" The doctor said. Anthony sighed. 

"Yes, I resent them. Didn't we just talk about pointless questions. And don't think I'm an ingrate. I understand that their intentions were good. But good intentions only go so far." 

"If you disliked the idea so much, why didn't you just request to stay at the orphanage?" 

"Did you take a look around when you left the airport, doctor. This," Anthony swung his arms out wide. ",Was my whole world and it was filled with ice and death. I wanted to see desert sands, rainforests, marshes humming with life. I wanted to hunt with lions under a sun that burned the skin black.  Instead they promised me a concrete jungle, and I was fool enough to accept." Anthony said. He closed his eyes. 

"You had a pretty wild imagination for a kid who had never even seen a lion." The doctor said. 

"I read about them, doctor. There's no shortage of books here. It was the one thing I liked about all the boarding schools they sent me to. All the books you could read." Anthony said. 

"How did you fare when they sent you away?"

"Fine. Surviving in those places is easy once you know how to handle it."

"And how did you handle it?" 

"The first person to mess with me got a broken nose. The second person got a bent leg. There was never a third." Anthony said, and a smile spread on his face. The doctor adjusted his glasses. He opened his mouth, but Anthony threw up a hand. 

"It's my turn, Doctor. And, believe me, I am getting tired of saying that. My question is, what is your first name?" They both laughed at that. 

"It's Sam" He said.  

By the time Anthony found Perca, she was already smothered in gore. She made wet sounds as she dug into the elks belly. She slit it open with her nails and he watched as entrails spilled out in a steaming mess. Ten other corpses littered the forest floor. Each more ravaged than the last. 

"You weren't lying when you said you wanted to hunt." He said kneeling beside the slaughtered beast. She plunged her fist into its chest and it came back with a heart in hand. She sank her teeth into the fleshy muscle and blood oozed down her cheeks. Anthony's stomach rumbled loudly.    

"No, you don't get any of this. I haven't eaten in months." She said, gulping down a chunk of elk. 

"Don't be greedy." He said and he reached for the heart. Though, when a low growl escaped her  throat, his hand fell back to his side. "Are you still mad. I told you, I had an appointment." 

"Yeah, whatever. Your just lucky you don't smell like perfume. Otherwise I would've had to track down the girl and eat her." She said. 

"Still hungry, huh?" 

"Starving. I could eat about twenty more of these suckers." She gestured to the graveyard of elk bones. Anthony chuckled. 

"I wouldn't go that far. That much meat and you might just explode." He said 

"Are you calling my fat?" 

"I don't think anyone could ever call you fat." He said. He ran his fingers along her bare shoulder. Even speckled with dried blood she was beautiful. "I was thinking more along the lines of bear." He said. Her eyes beamed. 

"Really? Could we?" She said, dropping the heart. 

"Yeah, but I don't want to go like this." He said and he gestured to his own body. Perca's smile was red. 

When Perca shed, Anthony was always entranced. She would always drop to her knees and languidly stretch across the ground; arcing her back. Then she would look at him with those eyes that reflected light like veins of onyx. It was when those black pools flashed yellow that he felt his own blood boiling inside his skin. He forced himself to watch, even as the glamour dropped from him and his own shady skin became shrouded in fur once again. He saw her tender palms burst into auburn paws: her nails extended into scythe-like claws, while her lips, still stained with blood, lengthened into a muzzle. 

In seconds they stood on all fours. With tented ears pricked and noses angled to the hard earth, the wolves scanned the forest. They remained like that for many minutes, two statues molded by the shadows of the trees. But then, they heard it. The slow beat of a heavy heart coupled with the roar of a predator. 

They were gone; thundering across the pact ground, tearing up the undergrowth beneath their claws. A throaty bark escaped his mouth as he snapped at the air with great jaws. The wind caressed his pitch fur as the moon bounced off the silver crest on his chest.  

The bear was large. A creature formed from compressed muscle and fat, and armed with dishpan paws. The wolves stared it down, growling in unison as they turned it this way and that; flanking their prey. When the black wolf leapt he ducked under the bears powerful swing and hamstringed its right leg. This brought the beast to its knees just as the she-wolf pounced on its back. She drove it to the ground and sank her jaws into its neck. The bear gave a pitiful roar as it tried to defy the death that had already marked it. When it finally lay still the she-wolf ripped off a chunk of bear-flesh and the black wolf joined her. It wasn't until they noticed the tiny cub shivering in the bushes that the wolves turned from their meal. The two wolves looked at each other. The she-wolf bared her stained teeth for a while. But when the black wolf licked the blood from her chin, she slunk over to the cub. It shuddered all the while she carried it home. She held it by the scruff of its neck.

"How is he doing?" Anthony said as he laid down in his bed. Perca was in the doorway with crossed arms. 

"Don't get too comfortable. The damn thing won't sleep." She said. 

"Well, he did just see its mother slain by the same beasts who are now keeping it hostage. He probably thinks we're about to eat him." He said 

"That's what we should have done. I'd rather not waste what little time I have with you, raising some bear cub." She said. Anthony turned to her. 

"He's a child." He said 

"It's an animal, and a weak one at that." 

"Have you forgotten already. We're animals too." Anthony said, rising to his feet. 

"Is that what you think?" She said. She snorted and shook her head. 

"We're wolves, Perca. We're wolves and man. What makes that child so undeserving of your affection." He tried to take her in his arms but she shook out of them. 

"You're so naive, pup." She said 

"Don't talk to me like I'm some helpless creature.  Regardless of what you say, the cub is our responsibility." She turned away from him and his words. The sound of the cabin door slamming shut rang in his ear. 

Anthony found the cub in one of the unused rooms of the cabin. It was curled into a ball and was still trembling. It began to bleat and kick when he approached it. The cub's teeth were sharp and drew blood when he began to gnaw at Anthony's arm. But, this didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around its tawny fur. He held the cub just like that through the night. Until the shivers subsided and the biting was replaced with low snores. 

    Perca emerged from the trees to see man and bear wrestling beneath the sun. She wondered how long the star would remain in this region, before the winters darkness consumed it. She turned her attentions back to the pair tumbling in a ball of fur and flesh. Laughter escaped the man's mouth as he picked up the cub and shook him. When Anthony saw her, his face turned to stone and he tucked the cub behind his leg.  

"I have no intention of eating your precious babe." She said. She watched his mouth melt into a smile. 

"He's going to be strong, Perca. I can tell. He'll be king here." The man said, howling to the heavens. 

"Yes, king of dirt and snow. Who could ask for a more prestigious role." She said. 

"Don't listen to her Koda. She's just jealous." The bear bleated in response and Anthony knelt to brush his head.  

"You named it?" She said 

"He's not an it."  

"How do you plan to feed him. Those things drink more milk than you could imagine, and I'm not exactly overflowing with creamer." She said. She tried to approach the bear but it ducked behind Anthony's leg. He started laughing. 

"I've been stealing some from the local shelter. They always keep a fresh supply, they just don't guard it that well." He said.   

"Who's going to teach him how to scavenge: to climb trees when there's danger, to hunt,  store fat when it's cold like this; to hibernate? He's not a wolf Anthony, so who's gonna teach him to be a bear?" She said. 

"I'm his father, I'll teach him all those things and more. He's going to be a king." 

"But he'll die just like his mother when one of us clamps our teeth around his neck." She said. Anthony's eye twitched. 

"I would never hurt him." He said. 

"And neither would I." 

"Then what are you saying?" 

"I'm saying, that the cub should have been tucked in some den with his mother when we came for her. She should've been asleep. Instead they were on the move when we found them." She said

"Maybe they were heading towards their den." 

"Yeah, but she was moving a little too fast to just be strolling towards home.  Something scared her, Anthony, and very few things scare a six hundred pound grizzly." She said. 

"Just tell me what has you so upset." He said. 

"I found tracks in the forest. Big ones. Bigger than ours." Her gaze was hollow, and her mouth hung open slightly. She stood like that for a while before His voice snapped her out of the trance. 

"What it smell like?" He said. Sliding the hair from her face. When she looked at him with her dead eyes, he shuddered. 

"It smelled like winter. Ice and death." She stepped away from him then; shedding her human form while running to the trees. 

"Do you still dream of wolves?" The doctor asked.  

"Yes. There are two of them now. A black one and a brown one." Anthony said. 

"What do they do?" The doctor said. 

"They dance." 

"Dance?" 

"Yes, they dance. They tread over fallen snow and dance beneath the leaves." Anthony said. 

"Why?" 

"Because the bear loves it when they dance." 

"There's a bear too?" The doctor's looked down at his patient. 

"Yes, and he's big and strong. The forest fears him, but not the wolves." 

"Do they ever fight?" The doctor said. Anthony laughed 

"The wolves do. But they love the bear and he loves them." 

"Are you the bear?" The doctor pushed up his glasses. Anthony laughed again. 

"No, the bear is too noble." The doctor sighed. 

"What about the first wolf, the grey one with the red eyes? What can you tell me about that one?" Anthony's brow dipped. 

"What would you like to know?" He asked. The doctor scratched his head. 

"Is it the same one that killed your mother?" Anthony touched his shoulder. 

"No, something else reserves that honor." Anthony said. Silence flooded the room for a long time. 

"What happened to the grey wolf, Anthony?" The doctor said. He watched his patients face twist. 

"I think the brown wolf killed it." He said. 

Koda was only large in the black wolf's dreams. He supposed koda was larger than most cubs but nothing like the ferocious predator he would come to be. With the brown wolf away he took to walking through the forest with the cub. He watched as the cub prowled beside his shadow and a thought came to him. 

Koda pounced on the hare and bit down. Its sharp teeth made quick work of the rabbit, ripping open its tinny neck in two quick snips. At first the cub couldn't grasp the concept of killing, but he was a quick study.  The black wolf would catch the prey and release it for the cub to stalk. Each success was rewarded with a nudge of the wolf's wet nose. Soon the cub was scrambling up and down trees at the wolf's barks and rearing up on his hind legs to scare insects with his little roars. A good child. The two lost days in each other's company, romping on their land like regal beasts. But, the call of humanity tugged at the black wolf's mane, and he found himself marching back to the cabin.

It was only when the stench of winter crossed his path that the Black wolf noticed the creature staring him down. It was up high in the leaves with a torn leg mashed between its jaws. It's fur was patchy and light; thin like straw. Red slobber dripped from its full mouth while its brawny arm held fast to a tree branch. It's build was apelike with its long limbs and muscular upper-body, but that didn't explain its tented ears or its long muzzle. Its bushy tail swayed passively underneath it's powerful frame. But what chilled the wolf wasn't the slight resemblance shared between creature, it was its eyes. They were blue, blue and clouded; dead eyes. The beast began to sway violently and the wolf tensed while his cub stayed tucked behind him. But the beast turned at the last second and careened away. The jostling of the branches could be heard as the creature sped deeper into  the woods.  

"I feel like we haven't spoken in months." The doctor said, smiling slightly. 

"It's only been a few days Sam, and I thought you were the one who said you needed to spend some time with your family." Anthony said, shaking the doctors hand. 

"Yes, the kids missed me desperately. It was good to see my wife again, though I can't say the same about the my in-laws." 

"Are they that bad?" Anthony said. The doctor scrunched up his face and pretended to gag. They shared a laugh. 

"So what questions do you have for me today, doc? I'm an open book." Anthony said. 

"Actually, it's more of a theory. You see i've been reviewing my notes." Anthony smiled at this. 

"I didn't know you took notes, Sam." He said.

"Mental ones." Said the doctor. 

"Well, then, lay it on me." Anthony said. 

"I think the two wolves, the brown and grey one, represent you at different stages of your life. The grey one is your inner child, the wild one who was born here, and the brown one represents you now. The brown wolf killing the grey one could show your inner struggle to come to terms with the death of your parents, which you blame yourself for, paired with your conflict over whether you belong here with in this winter wonderland, or out in some hot jungle." When the doctor stopped, Anthony smirked. 

"Uh-huh." Anthony said. 

"You're not even taking this seriously, are you?" 

"No really, keep going." Anthony said, throwing his arm over his mouth. The doctor eyed him for a moment, but he gave in eventually. 

"I think the black wolf is what you aspire to be." The doctor said. 

"And why's that?" 

"Well, because, in your dreams he's always the strongest. He can outrun the brown wolf, pin it constantly, and isn't he the one that tamed the bear, who's the terror of the forest?" 

"He didn't tame him, he taught him how to be king." Anthony said. 

"And there, that word, king. You always use it to describe the bear, but only a king can make another king. 

"Is that it?" 

"No-- well um-- and the wolf's eyes are purple." The doctor said, shrinking a little in his chair.

"What does that have to do with anything?" 

"It's a regal color." The doctor stammered. When he got no response from his patient, he sighed and reached into his shirt pocket. 

When Sam joined Anthony at the window, he couldn't help but noticed the cigarette in his doctor's mouth. There was a few clicks as the man lit up. 

"You rediscover certain vices when you visit my wife's family." Sam said as they both stared out into the town shouting with light. Even though the sun had long since disappeared, the night was alive with colors and howling. 

"What the hell is going on out there?" Sam said.  

"The festival." Anthony said.

"Are the townsfolk the ones who've been howling all this time?" Sam said oblivious to his friends wide smile. 

"Sometimes. Other times its the forest answering their calls. Gods are born in spring, mature in summer, and grow old in fall. When Autumn dies, so do the gods." 

"So why all the howling, if they're that afraid of the dark, why don't they just buy some more guns?" 

"I don't know why, but I always took you for a pacifist." Anthony said. Sam shrugged. "Well, to answer your question. Some things can't be killed by bullets. Wolves guard the land when the sky goes black and the sun flees from dead gods. They're calling to their protectors." Anthony said 

"Now that you say that, I have another theory about your dreams." The doctor said. 

"I don't want to hear it." Anthony said. 

"Alright." Sam said, and he continued to tug on his cigarette. 

When Anthony left Sam's office he was soon confronted with the sharp stench of alcohol. He wasn't surprised to find the drunk crumpled on the side of the building. 

"Well if it isn't my old friend. Hey man, did I ever thank you for saving me, because--you know-- thank you man." The drunk managed to say through slurred words. 

"You already thanked me." Anthony said. 

"Well, then--thank you again man." The drunk said. His head was bobbing in twelve different directions. 

"Why aren't you off howling with the others?" 

"They don't know what they're doing. Wolves are dangerous, but they want to bring them here." 

"You're right. Wolves are dangerous." Anthony said. The drunk smiled 

"See, that's why I like you. We get each other." The drunk said. His head finally stopped moving, once he leaned it against the brick wall. His eyes were closed. 

"You should get some shelter. I feel a blizzard coming." Anthony said looking out past the snow encrusted houses.  

"I'm not afraid of a little ice," the drunk held up his bottle, "I got this to warm me." At that, Anthony left the man to his dreams. 

The blizzard hit hard that night. Koda awoke that morning to darkness and snow that piled high around his new den of wood and stone. The black wolf was curled around him, soundly sleeping. But, the cub was tired of sleeping. He missed the forest with the white rabbits and frosted trees. But not that creature that swung from branches. It was feral and cold; a monster. 

Koda always marveled at his new thoughts. At first they were fragmented, simple things like cold, and hunger. But his father-wolf, his gaze always drew at more. The fragments became bigger and bigger, until they finally pieced themselves together. 

"Father, wake up, the sun is gone." Koda said through small lips. He nudged the wolf with his dark, tiny palms. The wolf's eyes opened; they opened wide. 

*****

When Anthony opened the cabin door his eyes fell on Koda. The cub had adjusted to his human form well in the last month. After the initial shock of seeing Koda armed with hands and feet, Anthony was set on educating the child. Luckily the boy shared his father's love for literature. In the first days, Anthony nearly lost hope when Koda could barely conquer the alphabet. But, soon the young bear was stringing sentences and scanning through books.  

"Hello, father, have you brought more books." The child would say each dark morning, then his father would pass him another stack from the library. And each night he'd find the boy-cub neck deep in the last pages of the pile he'd been given. But, this day was different.

"Father, I would like to go into town." The boy said. 

"In a little while, I just got back." His father said. But the child's eyes, deep black pearls ringed with amethyst, they hungered for something more than the paper he had brought to him. 

"I want to go, alone." The boy said. 

"It's too dangerous." The father said. His vision was clouded with the scene he'd seen that morning. Another dead child. One of the kids from the orphanage, just like the first four. They found his body frozen to the road; belly open. But, the corpse was bloodless, emptied of all life that might have belonged to him. It was Anthony who pried him from that street and carried him to the pyre. 

"I'm in no less danger out here. At least in town I might be able to lose myself in the crowds." The boy said

"I said no!" The father said. His nails digging so deeply into his palms that he drew blood. The boys eyes widened. Anthony looked down at his hands and smiled. 

"No worries cub." He said, holding up his bloodied palm. The wound had already healed. 

"I don't get it." Sam. He was leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. 

"What?" Anthony said 

"Why your parents sent me all the way out here to freeze my fingers off. When I can't really see anything wrong with you. 

"Aw shucks, doc." Anthony said. 

"Don't get me wrong, your far from normal. But, how could you be growing up in this place." Sam gestured to the window. "Do you know?" 

"What?" Anthony said. 

"Why they brought me to you. Do you know?" Sam said. Anthony rubbed the stubble on his chin. 

"They think I killed someone." He said. 

"And how does that make you feel?" Sam said with a smirk. 

"I'm serious." 

"I know you are." 

"Tell me Sam, if murder and wolves don't phase you, what does?" 

"Hey kid, I worked as a prison psychologist for five years. If someone wasn't getting gutted every time they walked out the door, it was a good day." 

"Maybe I should be examining you." Anthony said. 

"My wife already tried that." 

"And?" 

"The results were inconclusive" Sam said. 

"Of course they were." Anthony said. 

Sam ashed his cigarette and turned to his patient.  

"So, about the dead guy." Sam said. 

"There was a girl." Anthony began. 

"I thought it was a dead guy." Sam said 

"I'm getting to that. So, there was a girl. A sweet kid, real smart too. She was the youngest of us." Anthony said. 

"Us?" The doctor asked. 

"I was in college by then. We were all assigned groups of five to meet with few days. It was supposed to build trust and stuff, I guess." 

"Trust and stuff, got it." Sam said, jotting down invisible notes. Anthony shot him a look. 

"Anyway, there was this real jerk in the group too. I'm talking like a real shady guy; scum." 

"And soon to be dead, I take it." Sam said. Anthony nodded. 

"The others couldn't see it, the guy would hide it so well. Empty compliments and bravado. That fake smile. It didn't work on me though, I could smell it on him; he was dirt. But the girl, the young one, she was the worst of them. I could see it in the way her eyes followed him, and how her cheeks would grow red when he came near." 

"He noticed too, right." Sam said. 

"Your real sharp, huh, doc." 

"I worked with animals, kid. I know the dynamic between predator and prey."  The doctor said, wiping off his glasses.  

"Yeah well, she didn't. I was there when he spoke to her. 'One night. Just one' he said and she giggled, the group laughed and I just felt my teeth grind. " Anthony said. 

"What happened." 

"They had their date, were gone the whole night. But I couldn't sleep, they were away too long. I'm tossing and turning in my sheets, trying not to think about it. But I can't, I just can't. Just as I'm marching out the door, he comes speeding past. He tries to keep his head down, but I can see the scratches on his face. I found her down the road, in some bushes." Anthony said 

"Was she alive." 

"Yes, but her dress was torn." 

"Was she hurt." 

"I could barely recognize her." 

"What did you do." 

"I carried her to the hospital. She made me swear not to tell." 

"Did you love her?" Sam said. Anthony turned to the window. 

"Very much." 

"Anthony, did you kill him?"

"The police don't think so." 

"Why?" 

"They said an animal did it. A big one with sharp teeth." 

"A wolf?" Sam said.  

"Your starting to catch on." Anthony said. Sam reached under his desk and emerged with a bottle of scotch. 

"You don't mind, do you?" Sam said, pouring himself a glass. 

"As long as you don't start putting tracks in your arm, I'm good." Anthony said. The doctor downed his cup and joined him at the window. 

"These murders, they're really something, huh?" Sam said. 

"Even the slaughter of children doesn't break you, does it?" Sam shrugged at his patients words. 

"Only you reserve that privilege, my young friend. But, seriously, I never thought I'd find another patient so far north. I usually prefer not to work with serial killers." 

"Don't worry, these killings aren't a call for help. And even if they were, I'm not sure they could help the bastard whose doing them." Anthony said 

"Well, then, what should I make of these deaths?"

"They're a message, doctor." 

"For who?" 

"Anyone who's listening." Anthony said. The doctor went back to his scotch and began to nurse another glass. 

"It's times like these that I wish I was deaf." Sam said. 

Fire crackled along the edges of the pyre. It hissed and clawed at the townsfolk, as yet another body was fed to it. A burial was nearly impossible at this time of year. Koda knew that much from his books. The snow was piled how along the land, and the ground was pact so tight by the iced up water inside it, that digging would be costly and ill advised. So, when a seventh orphan was found scattered throughout the town of Ontaya, there was no coffin or grave. There was only flame. 

The fire was kept lit these days. The bodies were appearing more frequently and it took much too long to build it back up once it had already been extinguished. There was no more reveling or howling. Instead, they were replaced with muffled cries into hard pillows, and curfews. It was a danger to be a child now, even more so if you were an orphan. It dawned on the boy-cub that he was both, and his gaze fell to his tiny boots. Then his father placed a hand on his shoulder , and he managed to watch as the dead child was consumed by fire.    

Anthony could see that his son was upset. He no longer read the books that were placed at his feet, nor would he eat the meals set before him. All he would do is stare, either to the town the radiated light, or the forest coated in shadows. 

"They aren't safe, Koda. Especially not by yourself." Anthony said. 

"But we could change that." The boy pleaded. 

"What do you mean?" 

"People are dying, and all we do is just sit here and wait for the bodies to overflow." Koda said. His small hands pointed to the trees. "That thing is challenging you. When are you going to bare your teeth." The boy said. 

"When I don't have to worry about what will happen to you." 

"Don't use me as an excuse when seven kids like me are dead because of that monster." The boy said with a tear running down his cheek. 

"You know nothing, Koda." The father said. 

"I know right and wrong, father. Words you taught me. Waiting here, it's wrong. " 

"You don't even know what it is." Anthony said. 

" You do, and Perca did too. She knew exactly what it was, and that's why she left. That's why she abandoned us." The cub regretted his words when he saw the pain flow through his father's face. 

"She's coming back."

"How do you know?" 

"She is a part of me." Anthony said 

"Then where is she?" The cub asked. His father's face was stoic, but only for a moment. Then his brow dipped and his wolf eyes came to the surface.  

"Stay here." He said. Then, he ran out the door. 

The she-wolf was lying in a pool of her own blood when the black wolf found her. Her breath was strained but visible as white vapor. A long gash ran along her side, the red tainting her brown fur. She began to whine when the black wolf licked at the wound, but after a while she was quiet. Her breath still came in short puffs but the black wolf couldn't tell for how long. He made a short bark but the she-wolf didn't respond, instead her head turned to the beast standing behind him. The black wolf  followed her gaze and watched as the creature charged them.  

The black wolf burst forth to meet the creature. It was big. He knew that even when it was hanging from the branches. But on the ground, barreling towards him, it gave a whole new meaning to the word. It used it's tree trunk arms to propel it forward, but the Black wolf put a stop to its advance when he raked his long claws across the creature's massive chest. 

The black wolf hadn't felt the cold in so long, that their reunion was less than pleasant. His body always ran hot, snow melted beneath his feet, but not this time. The shock jumped up his legs, but it didn't stop him from clamping his teeth around the creatures beefy neck. The black wolf waited for the creature to scream, to buck and whine; to do something. It just stood there for a while, as the wolf gnawed on its sub-zero throat. Then it smashed its arm into the wolf and he crumpled into the snow. 

The creature placed its heavy foot on the black wolf's shattered ribs and pressed down until blood began to bubble up and the wolf's snarls turned to yelps. 

Perca tried to inch her way over to the black wolf, but even as a human, her legs wouldn't work. The cold, it was inside of her and it was turning her to stone. She wanted to scream at the beast, to make it turn away from him, but her mouth was useless. So she was forced to watch. She watched as it ran its rime coated claws through his skin, she watched when it began to dash the wolf's skull on the frozen earth, and she watched when the sun soared over her head only to land on the beasts back. Then, she watched it burn.

Even in his boy-body, Koda was strong. Silently, he thanked his father for giving him this strength, as he lugged him and Perca across the snow. When his father had left him in the cabin, he knew he couldn't just leave him to face the dangers of the forest, alone. He had read that most animals were afraid of fire, and had brought the lamp along when he trekked after his wolf-father. He followed the giant wolf tracks all the way to the valley. The first thing he saw was Perca, trying to claw across the ground. Then Koda saw it. The creature was larger than anything his mind could dream of, even the few memories of his mother, so furry and ferocious, were dwarfed by that giant of a monster. He saw a shape under it, black and bloodied; father. 

Koda hadn't even known he threw the lamp until its fire went racing along the creature's back. Its head reared back and it half howled, half screamed. Then it tore into the forest, smashing into trees as it tried to stop the flames. 

Perca and Anthony painted the snow with their blood; leaving a long red trail as Koda towed them home to the cabin. The boy-cub laid them down tenderly onto the stone floor of his den and waited. Thankfully It wasn't long.  

Perca's process was short, and mercifully delicate. Koda saw her skin knit back together, as if her body was rejecting the idea of death. Her tender face lost its paleness and flooded with her rich color. Then she was awake, and she held the child to her chest as they both watched Anthony's crumpled frame with moist eyes. They couldn't understand that their cries wouldn't reach him, not then at least. The black wolf was dreaming. 

****

In his dreams, the black wolf remembered. He remembered the time when he was only a boy, neither wolf nor man. 

      Anthony fingered the worn pages of his time scarred paperback. He considered reading on but his child mind was already buzzing and needed time to think. The sun was a star, he had read. The thing that breathed life into the earth and kept them from freezing in the dark, was a star like the ones that dotted the night's sky. The child leaned back into the bark of the tree, careful not to tear his jacket. He opened up his knapsack and placed the book back into its pocket with the others. He grabbed his knife and began to whittle at a fallen branch. After a few minutes he held the stake up to the sun's light. He saw it was sharpened to a deadly point and was satisfied. 

Anthony moved from his place at the base of the tall pine; small boots scurrying across slushy ground and sprouting flora. The birds had returned from their migration to the southern lands and the forest came to life with their chirps and tweets. Somewhere the bears emerged from their dens with fat cubs and the deer flooded the valley with wolves at their heels. 

The long night of winter had ended and it was a time for gods to be born. It didn't take Anthony long to find the hare's burrow; he had marked it when winter began so many months ago. The rabbit hadn't been bloated with pregnancy when it went in, not like the others who had ignored. The boy prayed that the furry face that poked its head out would be alone. The first thing that showed was the hares long ears and Anthony dug his short stake through the things tiny skull.  

Anthony walked back to the cabin with his lone rabbit speared on a stick, its meat exposed to the wind and its skin tucked in another pocket of his knapsack. When he opened the cabin door, he could hear the whistle of boiling water. In the kitchen was his mother. Her stomach had ballooned over the winter but it she still managed to keep a tidy home. She told Anthony a thousand times that his brother was living inside her belly, but Anthony couldn't understand why he was staying in there for so long.  

"Good, so you managed not to destroy a whole family this time." She said, taking the rabbit from him. 

"C'mon ma, that last time was an accident. I marked the wrong hole. Plus you said we couldn't keep the pups." The boy said. 

"Because we barely have enough food to feed ourselves, let alone baby rabbits." She brought her great knife down on the dead rabbit, again and again. 

"But if we raise a whole bunch of them, we'll never run out of food. The babies don't even eat much." 

"Do you think I ever thought of raising a bunch of children, just to eat them. To nurse them, and coddle them and worry if they're too cold or too hot, constantly." She said as she seasoned the chopped meat and dumped it in the pot. Anthony looked down at his boots. 

"Ma." 

"No, I'm serious. Do you think that you could raise something, put a piece of your soul into it, love it and know it loves you back, only to kill it. I thought I raised you better." She said, never taking her eyes off the water. 

"It was just an idea ma." He said. She saw the wetness in his eyes and brought him in close. 

"I'm sorry, I do appreciate that you hunt for us. You help keep this family alive. I love your obsession with those books; your my little scholar. But you have to understand that there's more to living than the facts they give you. You have to respect life." She shook his head and the boy smiled.  The days were like that at first, until the baby decided to break free.

Anthony found himself slipping through the mud as he ran into the doctors door. His face hit the hard wood with a loaded smack. A few seconds later it opened and the boys small body was swallowed by the man's shadow. The doctor was a giant. A foreigner with charcoal skin and icy hands. He came with winter's darkness years before, but fortunately it left him behind. 

"What's your business here pup?" The man asked in his gravelly voice. 

"My brother's coming out of ma's stomach." Anthony said.  

The doctor outpaced the boy with his long strides, but Anthony was never far behind. It was only when they reached the cabin, that the boy hung back. He forsook the warmth of his home for the brisk air when he heard his mother wail. The boy covered his ears and tried to imagine his brother: small, bloody, and frail. He hated it then, for causing their mother such pain, as she and the doctor brought the babe into the world. It was only when the screaming stopped that Anthony rejoined his family. The baby was in the doctors hands but he showed no reaction to his frosty clutch. Instead, the doctor was frowning.

The dark doctor found Anthony whittling branches with his knife.  The man sat next to the boy but didn't speak. He didn't even look at his bruised knuckles.

"Lee Davis and Tommy called my mother a whore." The boy said. 

"Why?" The man said. 

"Because she had your baby, but you guys aren't married." 

"Is that why you hurt them?" 

"No, I hurt them because they called you my father. But you aren't, my dad's dead. " The boy said and stuck the branch in the ground. The man took Anthony's fists in his palm. The boy cringed at his touch as he felt the cold swim up his arms, but he could no longer feel the pain in his knuckles. 

"I saw what you did to Lee Davis and Tommy. I was the one who had to stitch them back up when their mother's came in screaming about what my boy did to them." The man said. Anthony avoided his gaze. "I'm not ashamed of the love I have for you, or your mother, or my new son. I'm so grateful that you both have welcomed me into your life like this. But that doesn't mean you can continue to act like this every time you get mad." The father said. 

"But they called you names too." The boy said 

"Like what?" 

"They called you a foreigner" Anthony said. The man laughed. 

"They only called me something that I am. That's nothing to be mad about." 

"But you've done more for the town than any of their fathers, and you don't even get paid. This is as much your home as theirs." 

"I appreciate those words pup, I do. But you can't just hurt people because they say things that you don't want to here." The man said.

"I know," Anthony said, "But, what if they hit me first." The doctor thought about it for a moment. 

"Then make sure they don't ever do it again. But, don't tell your mother I said that." The boy laughed at his father's words. They sat there watching as the sky was tainted purple by the setting sun and settled as black so the stars could watch them. 

"Did you know that the sun is a star?" The boy said. 

"Yes. Me and the sun used to be good friends." The man said 

"That's impossible, the sun's a ball of hot gas, how good of a friend could he be." The boy said 

"I've asked myself a similar questions for many years now." 

"You're strange." The boy said, and the man laughed. 

"Your right, there are few things stranger than I am." The father said. Their conversation lapsed into silence once again until the boy spoke. 

"Vanna, are you really from Africa, cause that's what Tommy said?" 

"No." Vanna said, and he saw a star shoot across the black sky. "I'm from up there." He said, and the boy watched as the brown of the man's squinted eyes, melted to red.   

"Why'd you leave?"

"I was forced to." 

"Why? Did you do something bad?" The boy said. 

"Some thought so." The man said 

"Well, what do you think." The boy said. Vanna turned to the boy. 

"I think I acted when I was supposed to wait, and I was punished severely for it." The man clenched his cold fists.

  The baby's name was Marcus and he was cold and large like his father. From the moment he was brought into the world, he was set on waving his long limbs in fits of wailing. The mother didn't know what to do with it and spent most of her days in bed. That's why she never saw when  Vanna would fix his red gaze on his son. The babe would quiet instantly and fall into sleep, leaving Anthony in awe.  The father would place the child next to his sleeping mother, and then he and the boy would hunt.   

The pair hunted with knives in hand. They would hide in the branches only to land on unsuspecting prey, or toss makeshift spears from a distance. Their methods were effective and it kept their family alive. But some days, the dark doctor would hunt alone and come home with twice as much game. And the boy would wonder, and wait, and gaze at the forest as Vanna would march to its edge. Then, one day, the boy followed. 

Vanna could hear the boy's boots crunch into the snow. He had to admit the boy tried to match his own steps but the dark doctor would switch his pace now and then, and there the boy would fail. But he never showed his awareness, not even when the sun set and he could feel the night air pull him into the change. He took the forest floor on all fours.

The old wolf had to fight to hold his human form whenever the sun set and the moon took to its throne.  Staying wolf was never easy under the morning sky but in his man-skin the dark could be unbearable. When his long trek had ended and he arrived at Ontaya so many years past, he stuck to the forest. The months of sunless days allowed him to be at peace in his wolf body, as tainted as it was.

The wolf would feast in the dark. He would sink his old jaws  into meaty dear and watch as their skin would snap-freeze around his teeth. Then the blood would poor, and run down his throat, filling him with, what? He supposed it's what most would call, life. That feeling of being whole, of happiness and pleasure, of knowing you can live another day without skulking through the trees like a friend. It would envelope his ragged frame, and for moments, he was content. But it was a fleeting vice, one that left him drowning in his own wretched thoughts.  So, when the sun finally rose after one great winter, the old wolf forsook his dead fur and became Vanna, the dark doctor. 

Despite his new role as the town's doctor, Vanna still felt the call of blood for years. He tried to sate his thirst on his old prey in the forest but his dead gut called for a different vintage. Then, the boy was carried in. His face was cut and bruised and his mother was screaming for the doctor to save him. The boy had fallen from some tree and had been knocked unconscious. The injuries weren't even as serious as they looked, the kid didn't even have a concussion. So the doctor mended his patient and helped carry him back to his home. It was a cabin past the borders of town. 

For days the old wolf couldn't forget the scent, of blood and youth and life. There was so much of it in that child. No matter how he tried to curve his thoughts, they always turned back to the boy. But he fought it, he fought his own mind until he could feel it start to crack.  Vanna hadn't even known he was hunting as wolf, until he felt the blood gush between his teeth. It was only an elk, though, and the old wolf could still smell the child. 

He found the boy in the forest, staring up the tree he'd undoubtedly fallen from. He was small, but very few things outsized the giant wolf. His, shadow, though it was bolstered by the setting sun until it shaded the forest floor. The wolf snarled, and the boy turned to him. He fixed him with his red gaze but the dead wolf couldn't get the child to run. Instead he spoke.

"Hello," The boy said, "My name is Anthony," and the wolf placed his bloody chin on the boy's shoulder. It was warm. 

"You're a wolf?!" The boy said. He finally caught up to the dark doctor in the heart of the forest. He was sitting on the earth as man. 

"Yes." Vanna said. 

"That's so cool." The boy said and his eyes were big and wide. 

"Soon, you will be too." The old wolf said, leaning up against a protruding root. 

"Really?" 

"If you want to." 

"Of course I want to, that sounds awesome." Anthony said. Vanna laughed. "Don't just laugh, tell me how to do it already." 

"Be patient." The old wolf said, and Anthony became quiet. "Now, look into my eyes." He said as the boy took his red stare. 

"You've hunted with me on mans' feet. You've felt my influence as you've killed and preyed. The beast is in you, pup, but only you can free him. I will help you, but you'll have to give in to it." Vanna said and watched the boys dazed face. 

"Give in to what?" The boy asked, his voice deadpan. 

"The wolf. Feel the primal power. That feral ferocity. Let it free, Anthony!" Vanna's shouts morphed into a howl as he became wolf yet again. Then he watched as the boy's eyes burned purple. 

They were a pack of two for years, bringing down prey as wolf and pup. They laughed loudly as they dragged meals home for dinner. It was only when they found Marcus already supping from his mother's neck, that a problem truly emerged. 

Vanna pried the child from his mother's embrace and shook him. But, the child only laughed and giggled, spraying flecks of blood on his father's cheeks. Anthony inched over to his mother with her wide blank stare. He began to breathe again when he felt her pulse. 

"I told you to leave her be!" Vanna shouted. But Marcus' eyes went cloudy and stale; blue like winter. Vanna's face twisted as he struggled not to crush the child. "Why don't you just obey?" 

Anthony never saw his brother's hand move, but the red stain on his fingers was clear enough. Vanna screamed and clutched at his leaking eyes. Marcus dropped to the floor and scurried out the door, white fur budding along his back. 

Anthony's mother never broke her dead gaze. Instead she just slept in her room, as usual, and asked where the baby had gone. She asked Anthony and Vanna, the ceiling and floor, even the window that fogged up some days. But no one knew. 

Vanna's eyes had healed quickly, but even with them, his child proved too elusive. He wouldn't dare leave Anthony and his mother defenseless to chase after the monster he helped create. Instead he waited. It wasn't long before the She-wolf's howl echoed across the land.    

The wolves came in the morning, racing the sun to the edge of the forest. Anthony could see them from the window their deep colors mocking the snow they tread on. There were eight. He was almost excited until he saw his father's face. It was dead. Not sturdy and strong, but hollow like a corpse.  He knelt down to hug his pup. Even as Vanna strode out to meet the pack Anthony still felt the burning cold of his embrace. The brown wolf, the one that stood before the others, shed into her human skin. She met Vanna in the middle and they began to speak. 

"Again, Vanna, again?" She shouted, and her wolves barked behind her. 

"I thought I could control it this time." He said with his raspy voice. 

"Why would this time be any different from the first? You've unleashed a monster. Where is it!" She said 

"I don't know. If he's anything like the first, he'll be sleeping." 

"For how long?"

"It could be ten years or a hundred. He'll sleep until he feels he safe and strong."

"What does he need to fear?" 

" The Stars of Heaven, and their hounds." He said 

"You warned him of us?" She snarled, and the wolves began to bay. 

"He pried it from my thoughts just as he left. He's cunning. But I've entertained you enough. Leave now and you get to keep your skin."   

"You know we can't do that, old one. You broke your word." She said. 

"Do you know what it's like!?" The dead wolf screamed. The she-wolf inched back and her back quivered and whined. "To walk this earth as a ghoulish corpse.  Dead but alive in a never ending cycle of   draining the world of its life for some feeling of euphoria that lasts moments, seconds. You become a slave to it, to the hunger. It brings you to your knees, breaks you and strips you of your mind until your just an animal. But I forget, you know what it's like to be slave. Your all slaves, jumping at your masters every word and whim. Tell me, do you piss with their permission." Vanna said, and it was like the earth trembled with his ever sound.  

"What did you hope to accomplish?"

"I wanted another chance. I wanted to feel alive again." He said 

"You're a fool. Imitating life isn't living it." The She-wolf spat. 

"I've lived more in this undead form than you ever have, girl. The choices I made were mine. Not someone else's orders." 

"Then receive your judgment with honor, die quietly." She said. The old wolf smirked. 

"Now you're being foolish. I can't believe that they only sent eight." 

"I'm worth at least ten." She said and she rejoined her pack as wolf. 

"I would hope so, or else this would be over rather quickly." Vanna spared a glance back at the cabin. "Pup, go on and get moving, you don't need to see this. I'll protect your mother." Vanna said. It was only when he saw the black pup racing away that he adopted his own wolf-skin.  

Anthony spent that day running; first as wolf and then as boy. He ran from the brown she-wolf and her threats, he ran from his own tears as they froze in the summer air, and he ran from the sharp-wet sounds of dying wolves. But, he could never run far enough. 

When Anthony returned the sky was dark and the air was flooded with the smell of burnt flesh. There was a fire burning in front of the cabin, and a figure was tossing bodies into it. When it was done with its work, it looked to Anthony and then it was gone. The boy swore he hadn't blinked, but the figure just seemed to wink out of existence. The boy didn't care though, the smell of fresh blood was coming from the cabin so he trudged on. 

The pup's mother lay charred and mangled in the center of the bedroom floor. The boy dropped to his knees when he saw her but couldn't touch her ravaged body. His throat seemed to close then as he tried to figure out how to cry. Eventually he found a way.  

"In some ways, this way was better. There was no spark in her, she was a trapped soul." Anthony looked to the corner of the room where the she-wolf leaned against the wood walls. She was clutching her belly, but blood still dribbled out in streams. 

"Did you do this to her?" The boy said. Tears were flowing freely now and his voice was muddled. 

"No, it wasn't me, she was like this when I crawled in here. By the time that old wolf was done with me I couldn't even stand. I like to think my legs grew back nicely." The she-wolf wiggled her toes. She attempted to smirk but her face twisted and she ended up spitting up something fleshy and red. "It was probably the one outside who did this to her."

"Who was he?" The boy said through a clenched jaw. 

"He was a Star, pup. He's not someone to make enemies with." The she-wolf said as the boy looked to the ceiling. 

"Why did he do this to her, she couldn't hurt him?"

"I've never been able to figure that one out, pup. Stars are never easy to understand."

"That's not good enough, she was my mother. Give me his name, I want his name." The boy said. 

"He's the Red Hound to many, Sirius to most, but to me, he'll always be master." The she wolf spat out the last word and brought on a bloody coughing fit.  

"Is he the one that killed Vanna?" 

"No, that honor belongs to me. I would share the blame, but my pack is dead, and they have no use for it. Although, the Red one did burn the bodies, so maybe I can let him have some of it." She said. 

"Why'd he burn them." 

"To release their souls, otherwise, they'd end up like Vanna and his abomination. Spirits stuck in dead bodies, and very few would be strong enough to shift from wolf to man like that Old wolf." The she-wolf stopped for a moment and stared at her gut. "I've never felt pain like this, your father was very powerful." She wiped at her eyes, leaving a bloody smear across her cheek.  

"I already knew that. He was strong, we were going to live a happy life, a normal one before you people came. He was going to teach me to be strong." The boy said between sobs. 

"No one can teach strength, pup. You have to earn strength just like the rest of us. Go and see the world and let it beat you down a little. If you can still rise with all your scrapes and bruises then you'll have your strength." The She-wolf struggled to her feet, leaving a red streak across the wall. "See, not hard at all." She said before crumpling back to the floor. 

"You're not as strong as you think." the boy said. 

"We never are." She said. "Do you want to kill me boy?" 

"You and that Red dog, or puppy or, whatever you called him. I'm going to kill you both when I'm strong. " The boy said. 

"But, why not now? I'm so weak, you might just be able to pull it off." 

  "It's because you're so vulnerable that I can't do it. Vanna taught me better than that." 

"Did he, now? It's a shame he had to birth that monster, you would've made a fine heir on your own. " 

"My brother isn't a monster." The boy shouted. His voice was cut short by the She-wolf's flash of yellow eyes. 

"If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that that thing you call a brother is a monster. A killer and an abomination. It will only bring you pain. I bet it's brought you a fair share already. I can see from your face that I'm right. If you're smart, pup, you'll leave this place, there's nothing for you here but pain. I'll handle your brother when the time comes. I'll end this." The She-wolf said. The boys brow dipped. 

"I'll kill you before you ever harm him." The boy said. The she-wolf attempted to smile. 

"Come here, pup." Anthony was hesitant at first, but then he stalked over to the wounded woman. When the boy was close enough she brought his hand to hers. He tried to jerk away but she held fast to it. "Relax, you have to be at ease, or else it won't work." 

"What won't work?" The boy said as he let his arm go limp. The woman ignored his question and, instead, turned his palm up. She slid her nail along its surface and brought it to her mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked but she wouldn't answer. When she was done there was a red ring around her mouth. Then,  she took the hand that had been resting on her gut, and placed it to the boys clenched teeth. 

"You have to drink it," she said, "It's old blood. They say that it tastes the best." The boy obeyed and lapped up the blood and she wasn't wrong, it was sweet like rabbits. When he was done the woman smiled fully this time and her face seemed to glow. 

"We've willingly given our blood. Now we'll always know how to find each other. When you grow tall and strong, you can hunt me down as much as you like. Kill me if you can, it might just be worth seeing his heir in action." The woman rose for a final time. She was unsteady for a moment but regained her composure almost at once. "I gotta fly now, pup."

"Where are you going?" The boy said. 

"Somewhere you can't walk, yet." She said 

"Is it Heaven." 

"I call it the Valley." 

"What's it like." 

"It's--different than here. The rules change." 

"Take me with you." The boy said, his mother's corpes in the corner of his vision. 

"I thought you were going to kill me." 

"Only when I grow strong." The boy said. The she-wolf laughed. 

"You aren't meant to walk there yet, pup. Only the strong survive a run through the Valley." 

"But I'm all alone." The boy said. 

"We'll meet again pup, many times. I can feel it in our blood." 

"I don't even know your name?" 

"I'll tell you when you can place your teeth at my throat." 

"Mine's Anthony." 

"I'll remember that." She said, her voice growing louder as she stalked out the door. 

It was only when Anthony felt as if his veins had been torn from his body, that he knew she was gone. 

"But I'm all alone." He whispered to his mother's crisp corpse.    

**** 

"Why isn't he healing?" Koda said. He stared at the red puddle that was spreading from his wolf-father's body. His gaze shifted to Perca, as she bit into her wrist. 

"He just needs a little help." She said and placed her bleeding veins to the wolf's mouth. 

When Anthony molded back into his man-skin, he could feel his shattered frame twist and snap as it put itself back together. He heard Koda gasp when he began his grotesque healing. Despite the sounds, he felt no pain only the warmth of Perca's blood running through him. When it was all done, there were tears in his cub's eyes and Perca was in his arms. 

"We have to talk." Anthony said. 

"Can't we just stay like this for a while." Perca said, tightening her grip.

"Not with that creature hunting us." 

"But I thought I killed it with the fire." Koda said. 

"You hurt it, but that won't be enough to kill it." Anthony said. 

"So how do we?" The boy asked, and he looked to the She-wolf. "She knows how, doesn't she?" 

"You raised a smart cub, didn't you." Perca said. "Normally we'd use the sun. It does something to those monsters. Reminds them that they're dead, makes them mortal. But that option seems to have gone out the window." Perca looked out the window into the mornings black sky.  

"There's more of them, and they're dead?" The cub asked. He began to shiver. 

"That monster, the first one, it bred." She turned to Anthony, but his face was stone. "I'm sorry I left, but I had to go home. I had to get help." 

"This is home." The cub said. 

"Only for us, little one." Anthony said. "Where's your pack." He said to the she-wolf. 

"We chased those things for months. We ran them across the whole damn country." She said, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. 

"Your pack, where are they." The black wolf said, his voice firm. 

"Their bodies are ashes. I led them on a fools hunt and everyone of them died for my mistakes. I just wanted it to end so badly, I wanted peace." She said 

"Can't you go back. Ask the stars for help. Don't they care at all?!" Anthony shouted to the ceiling. Koda scratched his head. 

"What?" The cub said, but it seemed no one heard him. 

"I failed them, pup, I'm no longer welcomed up there. I'm a broken tool. They'll kill the beast, but they'll wait a little first." She said. 

"Wait until what?" Anthony said. 

"Until we're dead. Then they'll burn us all."She said. Anthony slammed his fist against the wall. 

"We could just run." The cub said. 

"When you said that thing was challenging me, you were right, cub. If we run now, we'll be running for the rest of our lives until we find ourselves cornered by it and its brood. Plus, we can't just leave the town defenseless." Anthony said.  

They all stood there for a long time, looking at everything but  each other. It was only when Anthony gazed out at the town and all its lights that his mind came alive.  

Sam was already deep into his cups when a pounding sounded from his door. He opened it with clumsy hands and wasn't surpised to see Anthony in the hall. 

"So you've finally come to kill me, eh." The doctor downed his glass. "Well, just make it quick." 

"No time for small talk, doc. I need alcohol, and lots of it." Anthony said, striding into the room. 

"Don't we all. But, your seriously not going to kill me." Sam said, as Anthony began to sniff the air. 

"No. What's wrong with you." Anthony said. His nose led him to a large cabinet in the corner of the room. He ripped off the lock with one quick swipe. The cabinet swung open to reveal cases upon cases of bottles filled with liquid courage. 

"These weren't here before." Anthony said. 

"Yeah well, I've been having some trouble sleeping lately." Sam said. 

"Want to talk about your bad dreams, doc?" Anthony said as he began to pull out the cases. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Sam said.  "What I'm doing is saving this town." 

"By stealing my Southern-Comfort?" 

"It's a complicated plan. I don't want to bore you with the details." 

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't remember it anyway. Anything I can do to help?" 

"Nah, you'd probably die. Just stay inside and wait for the fireworks." Anthony said. He clinked two bottles together. 

"Whatever, just leave me a bottle and be on your way. Scratch that, leave three." 

"Trying to start a party, doc? I take it tomorrow's session is canceled, then." 

"Assuming we're all alive tomorrow, yes our session's canceled. In fact, consider yourself cured, no amount of money is worth this bull. I'm gonna catch the first plane out of here." The doctor said. He took a long drag on his cigarette.  

"Where to, doc." Anthony said. 

"Somewhere warm." Sam said. Anthony looked out the window at the dots in the sky. 

"I had a similar idea in mind." 

"Yeah? Well, a change of scenery will probably do you some good." The doctor said, reclining in his chair. Anthony stacked the last of the cases and began carry them to the door.

"It's been nice talking to you, Sam." Anthony said. 

"Same here, kid. Pardon me if I don't cry, but I'm not that kind of drunk." Sam said. He took another drag while Anthony's steps rang down the hall.  

Anthony waited in the middle of the snow packed road. He had a bottle in hand with a piece of cloth sticking out of its mouth. He waited as the drunkard swayed down the street. 

"Well, if it isn't my old friend, and with a bottle at the ready. We really are of the same mind." The man said. His words had lost their usual slur and his step flowed into long careful strides. 

"Stop talking Marcus." Anthony said, and the man before him started to laugh. His voice was piercing, and if anyone had been sleeping, they'd soon be awake. That didn't matter though, no one would be walking these streets tonight. 

"So you finally caught on. I was wondering how long it would take you.." Marcus said.

"You used the alcohol to hide your scent." 

"So you do have a brain. I'll admit, the booze did hide my smell pretty well but damn, it's been months. I think this has been my finest work. It's too bad I had to waste my talents on you. I can't tell if Vanna raised you to be a coward or a fool." 

"You don't get to speak about him. You're the reason he's dead!" 

"Why? Why is that my fault? Because I was born? Because that bastard brought me into this world?!" Marcus took a step forward and Anthony tensed. Marcus laughed. "You know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were him. You have his skin and his hair, even that frozen face that he would always wear. Your his spitting image, and you aren't even his child. But, then you grabbed my shoulder, and I felt your warmth. That's when I knew I was going to make you suffer." 

"I'm still alive, Marcus. We all are. You failed." Anthony said. 

"Give me more credit than that, brother. All those kids I carved up, that had to strike a nerve. I can't wait until I get my hands on that little cub of yours, maybe then I'll get some emotion out of ya. Plus, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." Marcus said.

Anthony watched as his brother's willowy frame shrank and curved. His rich skin darkened even more and a curtain of braids sprouted from his head. 

"How would you like to be killed by the woman you love. I know this may seem a little played out but I'm a fan of the classics." Marcus spoke with Perca's lips and Perca's voice, but that didn't stop Anthony from igniting the fabric and tossing the flaming bottle. Marcus swatted it aside and tried to speak, but his words were swallowed by a thousand cracks. Glass shattered on the dead creatures back, and flames embraced him once again.

Anthony looked up and saw the real Perca perched on the roof of a building. She was reaching for another bottle.  The thing screamed an unearthly sound. It bucked and twisted as it shifted into its monstrous skin. It stayed like that for a while, rolling along the ice trying to snuff out the flames. But the she-wolf wouldn't let him. Fire rained down onto the beast and it was forced to run. Anthony wasn't surprised to see his brother charge at him on all fours. Marcus wore his true wolf-skin's now, white paws aflame as he barreled at his foe. 

Anthony lit a match and let it drop into the snow. He stared into his brother's dead eyes as the wall of flame reflected in them. The white wolf swerved, scrabbling along the pavement as he fled from the fire. Perca followed along the rooftops, throwing bottles. Anthony was at every corner, turning the white wolf with his matches.  

When the white wolf saw the pyre, still aflame and smelling of burnt flesh, he dug his claws into the ice and nearly skidded to a stop. He never saw the young bear, but he felt his powerful swing as the bear's paw dug into his spine. The dead wolf landed in the pyre with a scattering of wood and flame, and despite its bellows and whines it began to rise. Then the black wolf flew. 

The black wolf dug his teeth into the white wolf's leg, and tore. He bit and ripped, and slashed, and cut,  and he tore. He tore and tore until the white wolf was only pieces scattered along the melting ice. Food for flame. 

When nothing remained of his brother but ashes, the black wolf stepped away from the fire, un-burnt.  He brushed against the young bear and looked to the sky once again. He found the red star blaring bright in the darkness. The black wolf knocked back his head and howled. It was a long one. Dagger-like as it pierced the clouds and raced to meet the heavens. 

The doctor watched it all from his window. When fire lit up the town in the absence of lights, the doctor downed his first bottle and began to nurse the second. When the black wolf emerged from the pyre unharmed, the doctor cracked open his last drink. 

"I really need to quit this stuff." Sam said, turning his gaze to his cigarette. Then he looked at the half empty bottle in his hand and sighed. "I need to quit this stuff too." When the Black wolf finally stopped with its baying, it tore out of town, with a bear and a brown wolf on its heels. "Maybe next year." Sam said and he took another swig for his friend the wolf. When the doctor looked to the grey clouds he saw something he'd never seen before. It was a star, and it was green. 

That night, the wolves and their cub huddled together and slept beneath the moon. 

***** 

Perca and Anthony watched as the young bear dug his red muzzle into the elk's belly. The years had treated the cub well as it neared the beginning of adolescence. His tawny arms were pact with muscle and it was nearly as tall as his mother had been so long ago. When he was done with his meal he melted down into his boy skin and looked to his parents with eyes ringed with purple. 

"He looks like you when you were a kid." Perca said. 

"He's stronger than I was." Anthony said. 

"Well, he is a bear." She said. 

Koda sauntered over to his wolf-father and mother, dragging his kill by the antlers. 

"For you." He said. He pointed with his free arm, and Anthony noticed how his skin struggled to contain the muscle building underneath.  

"I already ate, cub. I must go now." The father-wolf said. He saw his son's eyes haze, but there were no tears. 

"Come back soon." The boy said. In one swift motion, Anthony embraced his son. "I'll miss you father. Please, don't die." Koda had to force his arms to unravel and fall back to his side. Anthony ran his hands through the boys wooly hair. 

"Be good, cub. Look after your mother." He said. Koda nodded. 

Anthony turned to Perca. Her smile set her face aglow, but her eyes were sunken. 

"I love you. You know that right?" She said, wrapping her arms about his neck. his hands ran up and down her spine. 

"I know, you're a part of me." He said. She tried to laugh but the sound died in her throat. 

"If you find a mistress, I'll eat her." 

"The same goes for you. " 

"Please stay." 

"I can't. I have questions to be answered and a challenge to meet. I've waited long enough." He said. His fingers danced along her cheek and their eyes met. "I love you, and when I come back things will be different. They'll have no choice but to be." 

She struggled to smile back and he brushed his lips against hers. 

"Remember, the rules change beyond the clouds. It's their world." Perca said as she looked to the blue sky. 

"I'm adaptable." He said. She kissed him again. "Send me to the Valley." He told her. She nodded and then the Black wolf was gone.  

#Winter Wolves