Home Turf

by d1sco_1nfern0

Summary:

Fall break has arrived, and Centross invites Icarus to spend it with him and his family, as a way to get to know each other better. It promises to be a time of relaxation, of fun, of deepening bonds, and of *more.* But there's a lot that both of them have left unsaid. And you can only dance around the truth so long.

Notes:

ARC TWO BABEYYY! It's yeehaw cowboy time and I am so excited to share this next part of the story with y'all. I have been cooking on this stuff for MONTHS.
tws this chapter for all the normal things: implied sex, abuse, ptsd and trauma, all that. We get a bit of the horrors to start us off strong. :)
Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Just This Once

     The next two months were some of the best of Icarus’ life so far. The Elytras were dominating , undefeated, at the top of their game and on top of the world. It hadn’t taken long for Centross, Easton, and Icarus to develop a reputation as the “nightmare trio,” or as fans and foes alike had taken to calling them, “Ominous Bane.” With Icarus’ speed, Easton’s maneuverability, and Centross’ power, they’d become the core of the Elytra’s offense, and every opponent's worst nightmare come true. Icarus had never felt so powerful .

     Every game felt like a new victory, and over time Icarus wormed their way into the hearts of the student body. They’d never forget the first time they’d heard their surname rising up from the bleachers in a familiar chant they hadn’t heard since transferring. They’d been accepted. Icarus swore they could get high on that sound alone.

     Beyond the field, most everything else seemed to be slotting into place as well. They were right on track to be practically a shoo-in for a post-grad internship with Dr. Perix, top of their class, networking, making moves. Their own experiments, though slow going, progressed steadily. As much as they wished for a concrete answer and solution, crossing off incorrect answers was at least somewhat productive in narrowing down the possibilities. And Rae’s notes had helped; they felt they had a much firmer grasp on what they were actualling looking for . And as for their relationship with Centross…well, let's just say they’d now lost count of how many times the man had ended up in their bed. It was at least a bi-weekly occurrence now. And their after-practice debriefs were still going strong, whether technically necessary anymore or not. Every day, their feelings for the man only grew. 

     Of course, not everything could go so smoothly, they couldn’t be that lucky. As if to purposefully balance out their stroke of good fortune, their nightmares had increased exponentially, and they found themself waking up in a cold sweat at least once a week. Emphasis on at least , because they were slowly but steadily getting worse; their dad had noticed Rae’s disappearance and had lectured them for not reporting the “escapade” back to him, and the new material had been detrimental to their already suffering sleep. Centross helped, though. Particularly him being there . On those nights the two of them got back late, collapsing into bed together for another round of ‘we shouldn’t be doing this ’ ‘then tell me to stop’ ‘never,’ their nightmares mostly vanished. And if they didn’t, it didn’t take long for them to sink back under the warm blanket of sleep wrapped up safe and secure against a warm chest in unyielding arms. 

     It was always their bed , though, in which their regular trysts took place. Icarus had never slept anywhere but their own bed (they didn’t count drunkenly passing out in someone else’s house), and though Centross had offered, had asked the classic ‘yours or mine’ many times, they always chose theirs. Perhaps out of habit. Perhaps out of some subconscious obligation. Either way, when one particular week the nightmares were especially bad, ruining their sleep schedule and beginning to affect their performance in the classroom and on the field, when Centross asked if they were ok, if the nightmares were getting worse, when they hesitated, and Centross practically dragged them into his guest room and pinned them to the bed with his own body and a firm order to sleep – they hardly protested. Future Icarus could deal with whatever awkwardness would come of the situation. They were out in seconds. 

 

 

     Future Icarus woke up with a bone to pick with their past self. Light streamed in through the sheer white curtains, and the cheap alarm clock on the nightstand said ‘7:15’ in the aggressive way only a five dollar alarm clock from Walmart with a blood red digital display and only one brightness setting can. They looked down at their clothes; Centross had shucked them of their clothes and leant them his own the night before, leaving them in just their boxers and an  oversized shirt that said “Give Me Your Mom’s Credit Card” with a picture of the grim reaper holding out his hand on it. They glanced at the pile of their clothes on the floor, and, despite the embarrassed screaming coming from inside their head, decided against changing back into them. It was only seven am and they were comfy, damn it. They could stay in their pjs if they wanted to! (And maybe the shirt still smelled like Centross. Maybe they didn’t want to take it off just yet.) 

     Before they could lose their spark of courage, they exited the guest room and meandered down the hall to the kitchen. Fenris was up, cracking eggs into a bowl as what smelled like bacon sizzled away in a pan. Icarus, of course, managed to step on the single creaky floorboard in the entire hallway, alerting the other of their presence; but Fenris didn’t seem surprised, or concerned, or even bothered. Just nodded at them.

     “Morning.” Icarus’ jaw nearly hit the floor. Fenris’ morning voice was deep . He sounded like one of those old jazz singers (or was it blues?) that Ven’s partner Fengari used to put on just to annoy the two of them.

     (As soon as the thought entered their brain they were locking it away in their mental filing cabinet of ‘fuck no.’ They really, really didn’t want to be thinking about Ven or his late boyfriend at seven in the morning.) 

     (They’d had enough of that from the nightmares.)

     “Morning,” they replied, steamrolling ahead to avoid further intrusive thoughts, only to realize they had no idea what to say. So they ended up standing awkwardly in the hallway, instead. Fenris raised an eyebrow at them, then jerked his head towards the stove. 

     “Come on.” 

     Icarus blinked. “Excuse me?”

     “Get over here. You’re helping. Put an apron on.” 

     Icarus was sure they looked disturbingly similar to a fish the way their mouth opened and closed as they tried to form words, some kind of rebuttal, but they came up empty. Without a better option, they joined Fenris in the kitchen, and with some further prompting, found the aprons stashed in the pantry. 

     Their options were…interesting. One was, on first appearance, a classic grandmother apron with a patchwork quilt design with frills and the words “go fucketh theyself” embroidered on the front, the second was a deep red with a skeleton rolling out dough with the words “I’m having a mental bake down”, and the third was yellow with a single, minimalist pawprint in a faded purple on the chest. 

     Icarus chose the yellow one.

     They rejoined Fenris with their chosen clothing cover, (noting Fenris’ far more professional-looking, plain navy blue canvas apron), donning it and looking around the kitchen in…expectation? Confusion? Honestly they had no idea what they were supposed to be doing there. They were a chemist, not a cook. 

     “Here.” They startled as a bowl and whisk was unceremoniously shoved into their hands. “Stir.” 

     With a slow, silent nod, they set the bowl back down on the counter and started mixing. It just looked like flour and..maybe sugar? Some kind of granulated white substance. They were unsure what mixing powders was supposed to accomplish, but they didn’t feel like arguing at seven in the morning. (Definitely just that. Not because Icarus had no clue how to behave after waking up in someone else's house and being told to cook breakfast.)

     Their silent questions were answered soon enough, however, as while they were mixing, Fenris dumped some eggs, milk, and melted butter into the bowl. 

     “Alright, that’s enough.” He said after another minute of Icarus mixing. “This is our pancake batter. That’s flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, eggs, milk, and butter. You don’t want to overmix it or they’ll be tough. See those lumps? That’s how it should be. Now bring that over to the stove, I’ve got a pan heating up, and we’ll cook them.”

     Just as he had said, he moved over to the stove, but Icarus just stood by the counter, bowl in hand, staring at him as the pieces clicked. 

     “Are-are you…you’re trying to teach me to cook pancakes right now?” 

     Fenris gave them an unimpressed look. “You think Centross hasn’t told me about your unfortunate dependence on microwave meals? No. That’s not gonna fly around here. If you’re sleeping over, you’re learning how to cook. Now bring the batter over.” 

     Icarus huffed, though they did as they were told and set the bowl down next to the stove with a little too much force. 

     “My diet is fine, I don’t see the problem. It’s not like I’m missing any nutrients or protein, I’m careful about that.” 

     Suddenly they felt something hard smack into their head, and they yelped and reached up to rub at the spot, looking up to see Fenris glaring down at them with a plastic measuring cup in hand. 

     “Everyone should know how to cook. It’s a crucial life skill. Pancakes? That’s one of the first things you learn. A lot of people learn pancakes as kids . If not from scratch then at least from a mix. Knowing your background, I doubt you’ve even learned how to scramble an egg. Am I wrong?” But even as Icarus began protesting, they received another smack to the head with the measuring cup. “Am. I. Wrong?” 

     “Ok, fine, no! You’re not wrong.” 

     “That’s what I thought.” Fenris lowered his hand and held out the measuring cup. “I imagine there’s a lot of practical life skills you’ve never been taught. A lot of things other people have been paid to do for you. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still know how, and I’m not about to just sit back and let you be neglected like that any longer. You need to know how to take care of yourself. And we’re starting with pancakes. Clear?” 

     As much as they wanted to snip back, to fight them, there was something about the way he’d said it that held them back. Something about the exact phrasing, and the tone. He was frustrated, that much was obvious, but…not angry. And not even fully frustrated at Icarus . It felt like there was something deeper there. And there was a care to his words. No one had ever offered to teach Icarus anything like this. They’d never had to cook, they had staff for that. Even for the short time they, Rae, and their mom had lived on their own, they’d never had to cook. Mom did that. And they’d never been as interested in watching her teach herself such things as Rae was. They’d found it boring. 

     (They’d never considered themself neglected before. They’d been paid attention to plenty as a kid. They weren’t neglected …right?)

     But Fenris wasn’t wrong. There was a lot they didn’t know. And maybe they could let this one slide, just this once, if it meant they got to learn how to make pancakes. If they got to feel independent.

     Just this once.

 

 

     Several pancakes later, the front door creaked open, and Centross, obviously back from a morning run, slightly flushed and with his shirt in his hand , came strolling into the kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world. (Icarus supposed it was - this was his apartment after all.) He paused just inside the entrance to the room, and his face broke into a grin seeing Icarus and Fenris standing by the stove, Icarus holding a spatula, Fenris now holding the measuring cup, and pancakes cooking away in the pan. 

     “Welcome back, Love.” Fenris greeted, then nudged Icarus. “One’s ready.” 

     Their self-consciousness had literally just faded , but now it was back full force under Centross’ interested gaze. They scanned the pan, slightly panicking, trying to remember what Fenris had said. Sure enough, one of the pancakes had formed a few bubbles in the center, which had popped and not refilled. 

     “Uhh…that one?” They pointed with the spatula. Fenris nodded, pride in his eyes. Icarus couldn’t help their own victorious grin. “Hell yeah.” Carefully, oh so carefully, they slid the spatula under the pancake and, like they were shown, flicked their wrist. The pancake landed batter-side down, half on the wall of the pan. “..shit.” 

     “That’s fine, the whole pan’s hot. It’ll still cook.” They startled when the hand landed on their shoulder, Centross practically materializing right behind them, and they felt the blood rush to their face when he pulled them in to press a kiss to their temple. “You’re doing great.” 

     “Mm.” Fenris agreed, accepting the kiss Centross offered and leaning back against the counter. “For their first time, they’re doing very well.” 

     Icarus’ ears felt red hot under the praise, though they couldn’t deny the way their heart sped up at their words. They decided to focus on watching the remaining pancakes like a hawk. (They really, really couldn’t mess up now. Not with Centross watching.)

     Although it seemed they didn’t need to worry about that, as Centross left them to it to speedrun a shower while the two finished up breakfast. The remaining pancakes were.. mostly uneventful. (Icarus did flip a pancake directly on top of another one, and Fenris had to step in and surgically separate them. But apparently that was a ‘common mistake’ so they tried to quell the internal voice screaming ‘failure’ at them about it.) Eventually, the pancakes were done, and Fenris tasked Icarus with setting the table while he finished up. Now that Icarus could do without incident, and when they were done and looked to Fenris afterwards, the approving nod they received soothed away any remaining anxiety leftover from the pancakes.

     Finally, they were all sat at the table, plates full of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Centross poured Icarus a glass of orange juice and himself a second cup of coffee. He did offer them coffee, which they almost took, but quickly changed their mind knowing how much they despised the taste. (They didn’t think they could handle forcing it down just to look cool and sophisticated.)

     The food was amazing. Maybe it was because Icarus hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in months, but they doubted it, because it was honestly better than anything the private chef had ever made them. Their enjoyment must have been obvious, because Centross smirked at them. 

     “Tastes better than somethin’ out of a microwave, doesn’t it?” 

     They glared, shoving another forkfull of pancake in their mouth as the motherfucker just laughed. Fenris chuckled as well, and they sent their glare his way as well. 

     “Hey, none of that.” He shushed, reaching over to flick their forehead, and their indignant protests were muffled by the pancake. “Now you know. Food always tastes better when you make it yourself.” 

     Still glaring, they swallowed down their bite of pancake with another sip of juice and slumped down in their seat a little. 

     “Whatever.” 

     The grumbling earned them another flick, and this time they fought back, reaching over to smack at Fenris in return - only to have a strip of bacon hit their face and land on their plate. Startled, they turned to look at Centross…who was grinning like a devil. They sprung out of their seat to reach across the table. “O-kay, fuck you -” 

     “Hey, no, stop.” Fenris’ arm shot up and his hand connected with Icarus’ chest, shoving them back into their chair before a full-on food fight could commence. “I swear to god you’re both children , eat your food. God damn .” 

     The table lapsed into peaceful silence, then, Icarus staring murderously across the table and Centross just barely inaudibly snickering. Despite their quiet fuming, it was…nice. Getting to relax like this. Eat good food and playfully ( mutually ) bicker with someone. It felt warm. Comforting. They hadn’t gotten to do this since…well….

     And Icarus suddenly realized they didn’t know the last time they’d had fun at breakfast. 

     Had they ever? Like this? 

     “What are you doing over fall break?” 

     They blinked at Centross, registering several seconds too late that the question was aimed at them. “Uh..going home? Why?” 

     Like a switch had flipped, Centross’ body became unusually tense. Anxious. His face showed none of it, of course, but Icarus could read him like a book by that point. (You could only spend so much time in the most intimate positions possible with someone before you start to be able to see past their masks.) His eyes were the biggest tell. He wanted to say something but didn’t know how. 

     Luckily Icarus wasn’t the only one who could read him.

     “Centross and I usually visit his parents over long breaks.” Fenris explained without looking up from his eggs. “But I’m going to see my sisters this time.” Centross let out a breath, and latched onto the script presented to him. 

     "Yeah. And obviously I’m fine being there alone, it’s my family, I love them. I just thought…well, they’re used to me bringing someone home with me anyway, and there’s plenty of room in the truck, so I wanted to offer.” 

     …what.

     With wide eyes, they stared across the table. There was no way he was saying what they thought he was. “You- offer- huh ??” 

     “You’re going to have to be clearer, Love.” Fenris hummed lightly. Centross sighed and ran a hand over his face. 

     “I’m asking if you want to spend the break with my family. With me.”  

     Oh. He was saying exactly what they thought he was. A multitude of questions bounced around in their skull, but at the forefront, why did the thought of saying ‘no’ make their stomach churn?

     Icarus hadn’t ever not gone home . Not just because they’d never had anywhere else to go, but because that was the expectation. A rule put in place that their dad had never explicitly stated but had never had to. When they didn’t absolutely have to be somewhere else, Icarus came home . 

     But for the first time, the thought of going home was…uncomfortable. Home felt tainted; thinking about it, instead of the sturdy (if a bit boring) bastion of safety they’d known all their life, they saw fire-lit aureate eyes, felt the phantom sting on their cheek, imagined the small, already faded, barely-there scar left behind by a golden ring. 

     What Centross was offering felt like a lifeline . An escape. An Out. And they couldn’t deny how much they wanted it, no matter how they wished to.

     Could they let themself have this? Just this once? 

     “Are you sure?” they asked, just to be certain. Because the suggestions was coming a bit out of left field. They weren’t even dating, they’d only been civil (if that was the world for…whatever they had) for two months, and Centross was already offering for them to meet his parents. “You..want me there?” 

     The man nodded, still looking riddled with anxiety but doing his best to hide it. “I’d like you to come, yes.” 

     “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean-”

     “Icarus, have you two had a single opportunity to actually get to know each other?” Fenris cut in. “You’re solid teammates now, sure, but do you actually know each other as friends ? Just months ago you hated his guts. Go along, have fun, use this as a bonding opportunity or something. Actually talk about something other than football.”

     Locking eyes with Centross, Icarus searched them for any sign of hesitation, of deception, and found none. The offer was genuine. He agreed with Fenris’ opinion. And Icarus didn’t see why they shouldn’t as well. 

     “...Ok.” they finally said, and they watched as Centross practically melted into his chair. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. Your parents live on a farm, right?” 

     “Yeah,” Centross pulled himself back upright in his chair as if he hadn’t just collapsed in relief. “It technically belongs to the neighbors, but they let my parents use it like their own. It’s nice.”

     “It’s beautiful.” Fenris corrected. “You’re going to love it. And them. They’re wonderful people.” 

     Icarus just nodded, smiling, while their heart sank into their stomach as they processed what they’d just agreed to. Their dad was going to have a fit. 

     This was not going to be a fun conversation.

     Taking another lap around their room had not, in fact, magically given them the courage to press the call button, and for the fifth time in the last thirty minutes, Icarus seriously considered chucking the damn thing at the wall. They’d gone over their script so many times, rehearsed it in front of their mirror, but every time they got close, they saw the name on the contact staring back up at them, and their hands began to shake. Gripping the device, teeth clenched, they tried their best to take a deep breath, to relax.

     “It’s fine, it’s literally fine. I’m an adult, I’ve got my own life, this was bound to happen eventually, right? He had to know that I wasn’t going to be there forever. This is just a…new life step. A milestone. Yeah! Adults can’t go home for holidays all the time! I just have to….” They stopped for a moment to readjust their grip on their phone so they wouldn’t accidentally break the screen; as they did, the screen lit up, the contact image staring up at them, taunting them. They took another deep breath. 

     “I just have to stand my ground, negotiate where I can, and…try not to make him too mad. Yeah. That’s easy.” 

     Before they could let themself overthink it any further, they slammed their thumb down on the call button and raised the phone to their ear. Immediately, their heart was racing, their internal dialogue screaming shit shit shit shit what am i doing-

     The phone rang longer than they were used to and every second felt like torture, but finally, the dial tone cut out and a voice came through clear as crystal.

     “Icarus?” 

     And despite their anxiety, a genuine smile sprung to their face. They hadn’t heard his voice in so long . 

     “Dad, hi!” 

     “Icarus! My son, it’s so good to hear from you. I was hoping you’d call sooner, but…how are you?”

     There was that feeling again, their least favorite: guilt. It burned through them like an iron stake and left a sore, ashy feeling on their tongue. So they did what they always did - shoved it down as far as they could and charged forward.

     “I’m- doing great, actually. Things are going really well!” 

     “That’s wonderful to hear. I’ve been keeping an eye on your work on the Elytras - you’ve been taking the conference by storm! I know you said you had everything under control, but - this is beyond what I imagined. You should be very proud.” 

     Icarus sank down onto their couch, relishing the happy, floaty feeling their dad’s praise always gave them that they hadn’t gotten to feel in so, so long. “Thanks, Dad. I’m really trying my best. And I’m sorry for not calling sooner, I’ve just been.. really busy, with school, my internship application, you know.”

     “Mm, I understand. It’s your senior year, you were bound to be busy. But family is important too, Icarus. I want to hear from you, now that I don’t see you every day. I miss my son. So try to make time where you can, alright?”

     “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’ll be better about that.” 

     “Good. Anyway, we’ll be able to catch up properly soon. I’m excited to see you home over your break. The house has felt…empty.” 

     And with that, the happy floaty feeling was gone. The anxiety rose again, and for a moment they felt their voice catch in their throat. 

     “Well…uh…actually, Dad, that’s kinda what I was calling about….” This was it. No turning back now. They took one last deep breath, and pushed through the wall of awful erecting in their brain that told them this is a horrible idea . “I’m…not..coming home over break.”

     The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, and in Icarus’ mind’s eye, they could see the way their dad stopped short, standing up just that little bit straighter, face falling unsettlingly blank. They didn’t give him time to respond. “I’m just- I’m kinda swamped, between homework and internship things, and I’m- I’m not failing, I’m top of my class, I’m doing good, but I just think I could be doing.. better , you know? Like I haven’t reached my full potential yet. So…I kinda just want to buckle down and get stuff done without having to worry about classes or football for a week.” Their dad was still silent. They kept going. “We’re just getting to the later half of the season now and all the big, big games are happening soon, and I want to get some stuff out of the way now so I’m not scrambling to do it later. Initiative and all that, right? Like you always said?” 

     Ok, they were definitely pushing it. If there was one thing their dad hated, it was rambling, from them or Rae. They’d made their point, said their piece, now they just had to…wait. 

     And wait they did, because their dad was silent for what felt like ages. Time ticked passed, Icarus swore they literally heard it even though all of their clocks were digital. 

     “..Dad?”

     “I don’t know what you want me to say, Icarus.” 

     Oh fuck . They knew that voice. That was the danger voice. That was the ‘duck and cover because someone messed up’ voice. That was the ‘Rae said/did something out of line again’ voice. 

     That was the voice they heard in their nightmares. 

     “D-Dad, I know you’re upset, but-” 

     “Of course, I’m upset, Icarus.” They snapped their mouth shut as their father interrupted. “First you leave to study at that woman ’s school, you cover for Rae when he sneaks off there behind my back, then you don’t call me for months , and now you’re not coming home?” They heard him take a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice had softened, even if only a bit. “This isn’t like you, Icarus. I don’t like where this pattern is heading.”

     “I- I know, Dad, I’m sorry.” Pleading and placating like their life depended on it was rapidly becoming far too familiar, especially since they’d only begun needing to do it in the last 6 months. Yet it already felt like second-nature. “I’ll be home for Christmas, I promise, I’ll be back and I’ll be home the entire time, just….” They needed to up the ante, lay it on thick if they had any chance of this working. “I’ve put so much into this internship and I can’t risk not getting it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Dad. I’ll be back for every other break but…just this once. I want to stay here, just this once. Please.” 

     The noise they heard on the other line was all too familiar - the same sigh their father always made when he was frustrated, the one that was always paired with him pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting to keep his composure. Icarus waited with baited breath. 

     “...Fine. Alright. But just. this. once. And you are coming home for Christmas.”  

     Oh, Icarus could have cried . The relief washed over them like a cold ocean wave, shocking their system and pumping oxygen back into their lungs. They were pretty sure their eyes were actually welling with tears. 

     “Thanks, Dad. I hoped you’d understand.”

     “Hm. Work hard, Icarus. And call me. I will see you at Christmas.” 

     Yup, definitely crying. Icarus wiped the tear away as it fell down their cheek. “I will. See you at Christmas. I love you.” 

     Another sigh. “I love you too, my son.”

     Hanging up the phone felt like snapping the rope they’d been attached to, dangling off a cliff, and they fell into a free-fall. They’d done it. They could put off going home until Christmas, and…and they could spend the fall holiday break with Centross. They were starting to get sick of the way their face heated up every time they so much as thought about the quarterback, but thinking about spending an entire week with him, in close quarters, all day every day, they just couldn’t help it. Even if they had to outright lie to their dad to get him off their back, it was worth it. 

     Icarus hadn’t had to lie to their father as a child, or even as a teenager, and they’d been a pretty wild teenager. Sure, they’d always come home at the end of the night, but half the time their dad was already asleep or working late, too busy or tired to notice a shitfaced Icarus wandering in at one in the morning. Icarus was pretty certain he even knew - one could only swipe so many bottles of straight vodka from the wine cellar before someone noticed and reported it. But any time Icarus said they were going out with friends, he just told them to have a good night and topped up their debit card. This was genuinely the first time they’d had to cover for themself like this, tell a completely fabricated story to throw him off their trail. There was no way they weren’t getting that internship. Dr. Perix had all but explicitly told them so herself. They were completely caught up on classwork, too. 

     But they knew that would be the only believable reason they could have for not going home. For breaking that one, unyielding, unspoken rule. And as much as it bothered them to do it, as much as they hated the feeling of going against their father like this, especially so blatantly…just this once, they didn’t want to care. Just this once, they wanted to be free of him. Surely, that wasn’t such a wrong thing to want. Every kid went through it at some point, that rebellious streak. Icarus was just getting there much later than most. 

     Just this once, it would be ok. They’d go south with Centross, have fun, get it out of their system, exist without their father or his schemes breathing down their neck, and then they’d return. They’d get back on track. And they’d put this whole thing behind them. 

     Yeah. Everything would be fine. 

     Just this once.

 

 

     Their phone rang just ten minutes later, and when they saw the name on their screen, they froze. They had half a mind to hang up right then and there; they had no desire to talk to him right now. He’d gotten them in enough shit already. But against their better judgement, they answered. 

     “What do you want, Rae?” Their half-brother didn’t answer right away, and the silence almost felt more annoying than his voice. “Hello? I’m busy, what do you want?” (They weren’t.)

     “What do you mean you’re not coming home?” 

     Oh, fuck everything. Icarus, in a motion they knew made them look exactly like their father, pinched the bridge of their nose and nearly growled. “I’ve got shit to do, Rae, I can’t. Didn’t Dad tell you?”

     “He told me you were staying at school,” Rae sounded genuinely upset, and unfortunately, Icarus could take a pretty solid guess as to why. They didn’t want to think about it, but it seemed Rae would give them no choice. “and that you were busy, but I know that’s bullshit. You’ve never not come home before, and you’ve never been behind in school in your life.” 

     “Ok, first of all, I’m not behind.” They snapped. “I’m just securing my internship. You of all people should understand why that’s so important.” 

     “And I do,” Gods…Rae hadn’t talked back to them like that in years, “but I also know that because it’s so important, you wouldn’t have left it until now. You’d have had that internship secured and squared away as soon as possible, not waited until nearly the end of the semester.” 

     “I’m just being certain!” 

     “Bull! Shit!” Rae yelled, legitimately yelled at them. “What’s really going on, Icarus? You said you’d come back! You promised!”

     All at once, everything raging inside them came to a fever pitch. Guilt, anger, frustration, envy , fear - it all came boiling up and they had to get it out the only way they knew how.

     “I SAID I’M FUCKING BUSY!” 

     Their voice echoed off the walls, and in the moment following, it felt like the whole world had fallen silent. The light noise they could hear before from somewhere down the hall was gone; the walls weren’t thin, but they weren’t thick enough to stop a full-on roar. Meaning everyone on their floor had definitely heard. 

     But the red clouding their vision was too thick. They were careening down the track and this time there wasn’t anyone there to pull their breaks for them. 

     “I don’t have to tell you shit , Rae! I already covered for you to Dad so fuck off and leave me alone! Why do you have to be such a pest ?! I told you I’m busy so I’m fucking busy! Just deal with it, being alone for a few more weeks won’t kill you, gods!”

     And just like always, it worked. The line was silent, save for a few soft sniffling noises. Except…something was different, this time. This time, the torrent of emotions didn’t go away. They didn’t escape into their screaming, empty themselves into the air surrounding them and let them exist in peace. No, this time, they stuck firm. Suctioned themselves to their bones and clawed at their insides, the anger giving way to the blistering bubbling ever increasing guilt that was so hot it was freezing.

     And when Rae spoke again, it wasn’t with that meek, passive voice that had always accompanied him backing down from their ire. His voice was sharp , lump still audible in his throat as he choked back sobs, but his own anger was still palpable . 

     He didn’t fight back, he didn’t yell. He just…talked. 

     “Fine .” The word cut through Icarus like a superchilled knife. “ Have fun ‘studying.’”  

     And the line went dead.

     Icarus stood in their room, stunned, and could feel their brain struggling to process everything that had just happened, trying to figure out what went wrong, what they’d done differently, what had changed, only to bash repeatedly into some sort of invisible wall separating the truth from their reality. Because none of it made sense. None of it should be happening . 

     As if on autopilot, Icarus let the hand holding their phone fall away from their ear, and selected a new contact. Thankfully, they’d developed multiple tricks over the years for when everything felt wrong . Even if screaming didn’t work, they knew one that would. 

     “Hello?”

     “When’s your next class?” 

     “Uhh….” There was rustling on the other end - presumably Easton sifting through homework or notes. “All done for today, actually. Had one, got cancelled. Prof’s out sick. Why?” 

     “Meet me at the quad. We’re going out.” 

     “Out? Like out out? Right now?” 

     “Yes, right now.” A bit of their earlier irritation was seeping into their voice, and Easton must have picked up on it, because there was the sound of a chair squeaking on the floor as it was aggressively shoved back and the paper rustling got louder. 

     “Yeah, yeah, ok. Cool, cool. I’ll be there in ten.” 

     “See you.” Icarus hung up the phone and scooped their keys off the coffee table. They didn’t even bother to change out of the tshirt and jeans they wore to class into something more appropriate for the club; they just grabbed their jacket and left. 

     The door slammed shut behind them.

Notes:

I fear I cooked, chat. I speedran this.

As always, Pinterest boards
And Spotify Character Playlists

And come scream at me on Tumblr! I live for hearing what y'all think!

Chapter 2: Natural Habitat

Summary:

Icarus' gets their first look at the farm where Centross grew up, meets the parents, and learns some new things about Centross and the neighbors (and themself).

Also: Centross is determined not to lose the game this time.

Notes:

I go nyoom I go speedy I go stupid?
Half of this has been bouncing around my head for months and I finally get to write it down, big win for the me community.
Light tws for this chapter, vague references to past abuse and minor flashbacks.
Enjoy!

     The first day of break came both far too quickly and far too slowly for Icarus’ liking, but before they knew it, they were dragging their suitcase down the sidewalk of their dorm to Centross’ parked truck. The captain was leaning against the side, and Fenris was settled in the passenger seat on his phone.

     “Hey, why does he get the front seat?” They jokingly complained as Centross loaded their suitcase into the back of the truck. 

     “Cause you get it the entire drive south, I’m just going to the airport.” Fenris snarked back. 

     “But wouldn’t it make more sense for me to start up front, if you’re just gonna get out?” 

     “And crush my legs in that tiny space? No thanks. You’re short, you can handle it. I’ve gotta spread out.” 

     “Wha- I am 5’11 how is that short??” 

     “Oh for the love…” Centross shoved them straight into the door. “Get in the truck.” 

     With a shit-eating grin plastered onto their face at his annoyance, they hopped into the backseat, which was a bit of a tight squeeze; Fenris definitely would’ve had a hard time sitting comfortably back there. Not that Icarus was going to say that, of course- they just resumed their bickering once their seatbelt was on and pretended like there was actually ample leg room and Fenris was being a big baby. That was, until Centross threatened to drop them both on the curb and go south alone. They thought it wise to shut up at that point.

     The drive to the airport was not all that arduous; Centross gave Fenris music rights, since he was only going to be in the car with them for a half-hour or so, and Icarus was surprised to find he preferred much softer music than they would’ve expected. A lot of storytelling music - kind of bard-core, if they had to pick a genre to call it, with deep bass vocals and acoustic instruments. It wasn’t bad. 

     When the arrived at the airport, Centross parked to get out and say goodbye, and Icarus slipped over the middle console into the front seat, half-pretzeling themself to do so, but the slight jump of surprise and the look on Centross’ face when he turned around to see them smirking at him behind the window was worth the discomfort. 

     Icarus did not get music rights. Yes, they voiced their displeasure at this injustice. No, it did not earn them music rights. All it did was earn them that one stupid Supernatural quote and a low, drawn-out, very intentionally worded : 

     “Now sit back and be a good little passenger prince, yeah?” 

     They sulked with their forehead against the window as Centross plugged his phone in and set a playlist titled “Cuntry Boy” to play on shuffle. Icarus had never been particularly fond of country music, but this time was different. Maybe it was the particular mix, maybe Centross just knew all the actually good country songs, or maybe it was just the way he seemed to relax the longer it played, like it was injecting the cure for homesickness straight into his bloodstream. Either way, Icarus spent the majority of the trip torn between staring out the window at the buildings turning into rolling hills turning into cornfields and animal pastures, or staring at Centross mouthing the words of whatever song was playing, or humming along if it was in his range, one arm slung over the wheel and the other casually propped up on the windowsill as the afternoon sun turned to an early fall evening. 

     In the light of the painted sky, he looked more handsome than ever.

     The most magnificent watercolor hues of orange and magenta and yellow splashed across the horizon as they turned down a long dirt path, winding through fields of golden wheat and green grass, up to a small farmhouse. Opening their door, the air that filled Icarus’ lungs smelled like hay, and old wood with a wafting scent of something divine , and felt cleaner than anything they’d ever breathed before. 

     “This is it,” Centross said as he hopped out of the driver’s seat and rounded the back of the truck, rolling back the cover securing their luggage and lifting suitcases out. Just as the last one hit the dirt, Icarus was startled by a high-pitched, yipping bark echoing through the air, and turned to see a small dog beelining straight towards the truck. 

     Before they could say anything, Centross was striding past them to meet the dog halfway, dropping to his knees and letting it crash into his chest, jumping up on its hind paws to lick at his face.  

     “Hope!” They didn’t think they’d ever seen such a big, pure grin on that man. “Aw hey girl! Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, hey there.” After a moment, as if remembering Icarus was there, he looked back at them, the dog still enthusiastically greeting him. “This is Hope, she’s the best girl in the whole world. Ten years old, raised her myself.” 

     Icarus nodded slowly, face cracking into a bewildered smile, blinking rapidly. 

     “Yeah, ok. She’s…cute. What kind is she?” 

     “King Charles Spaniel.” Centross stood, and Hope immediately sat at his feet, looking up at him so very expectantly. He already looked so much happier with his dog back, and they’d just arrived. 

     Icarus felt their heart thump in their chest at the sight. 

     Behind Centross, they just barely caught movement, and they leaned to the side slightly to see an old woman standing on the porch, in a floral dress and cardigan. The most “old lady” looking old lady they’d ever seen. When Centross turned around to look, that bright smile softened. The woman waved, he waved back, then jerked his head at the suitcases. 

     “Shall we?” 

     They lugged their stuff up to the front porch, Hope yipping and running circles around them, far too energetically for a dog her age, and wound her way through their legs to settle on a dog bed two sizes too large for her in the living room when the old woman held the screen door open for them. 

     The only word Icarus could come up with to describe the interior of the house was cosy . The walls were covered in frames holding up photos, paintings, sketches, and the odd embroidery project. The space was divided in two by a wall with a large archway door, separating a warm eat-in kitchen from a small living room, with a hallway and a narrow staircase on the far side leading off somewhere else. Just from where they were standing, they could see the ungodly number of blankets and pillows covering the living room, the pillows decorated with a similar embroidery to the scraps on the walls - which also made them consider whether the soft and snuggly-looking blankets could be hand-made. They had vague memories of their mom attempting to knit (crochet?) once or twice. The entire house was lit with a warm yellow glow from the lights above the kitchen counter. The oven appeared to be on and full, and on the stove, a cast-iron skillet sizzled away and a copper pot bubbled. 

     As soon as they had stepped foot in the house, Centross was setting aside the luggage and wrapping the old woman in a hug. 

     “David, baby, it’s so good to see you!” 

     …David?

     “It’s good to see you too.” Centross murmured into her hair, before she abruptly pushed him away and gripped his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length and looking him over. “Well?” 

     “Hmm. I suppose you pass.” Her tone was light, teasing, and Icarus knew they were missing an inside joke. It didn’t matter - Centross chuckled and gave her another long hug before letting her go. He then reached a hand out to Icarus, laying it across their back and ushering them forward. “Mom, this is Icarus. Icarus, this is my mom, Judith Jackson.” She looked far too old to be his mother, closer to a grandmother, but they kept their mouth shut.

     “Oh, hush, you.” Judith Jackson gave Icarus the warmest smile. “You call me Judi. Now I’m a hugger, but I ain’t gon’ push. Would you like a hug? You can say no.”

     Overwhelmed, unsure of how to behave, and a little concerned that this was a test, Icarus nodded. “Sure, ok.” They shuffled forward a little as Judi wrapped her arms around them, and…

     …oh.

     Icarus hadn’t gotten a hug from a woman in a long, long time. The last time they’d been hugged by any kind of maternal figure…well, that was obvious. Judi was just like her home - warm. And she had a light smell of perfume about her, not cloying, but just floating about her like a gentle kiss. It was floral, not one of those overpowering soapy things, but a light, sweet floral, like a rose-flavored tea with sugar or honey. And somewhere in the back of their brain, it felt…familiar. That light flowery smell. Not exactly the same as whatever memory their brain was desperately trying to pull forward from wherever it had shoved it, but close. 

     They missed it when she pulled away. 

     “Now David,” Judi began, her bright, welcoming voice mellowing out into something more serious, once again throwing Icarus for a loop at the name, “I know you just got here, but would  you have a word with your father? He’s been gettin’ into all sortsa trouble recently. I keep tellin’ him the doctor said to quit but he just can’t sit still! Just this afternoon he ran off to do somethin’ with those old fences around the garden, lord knows what. If you could talk some sense- oh, look, there he is now.” 

     Sure enough, through the open door Icarus could see an old man, all silvery white hair and denim and flannel, hobbling his way across the yard, two cylindrical messes of wound up metal in each hand. Icarus almost missed the irritated huff Centross let out, barely catching it as he mumbled something about ‘stubborn old bastards.’ 

     “I got it. I’ll get our stuff upstairs later.” 

     “Don’t you worry about that, I’ll take them up for you.” 

     As soon as she said that, Centross was out the door, marching down the path and across the lawn, throwing his arms out in a ‘wtf’ gesture, and shouting, 

     “Frank!” 

     Icarus had been following him out, but at the angry yell of the man’s name, stopped dead in their tracks on the porch, heart skipping a beat. They waited for the man to yell back, to glare, to look angry, to start lecturing him or something - this was Centross’ father , right? Old man or not, Judi had just called him that. They didn’t even want to think about what their father would do if they yelled at him like that, first name and in such a tone. 

     But the old man didn’t look even mildly perturbed, just surprised, and then he smiled . He honest-to-the-gods smiled and set down the fencing. 

     The two were far enough away now to mostly out of earshot, but Icarus could still vaguely hear Centross absolutely laying into the man, who barely batted an eye, just looked upon his son with a look Icarus could only describe as pride and love incarnate. 

     Their curiosity won out, and they hurried down the porch steps and closed the distance, just in time for Centross to pause in his ranting for a breath and Frank to begin speaking. 

     “It’s good to have you home, Champ.” He sidestepped the balls of wire mesh on the ground and opened his arms. “Now, before you continue tearin’ me a new one, come give your old man a hug, c’mere.” 

     Centross deflated like a balloon punctured, and relented as Frank’s arms wound around him. 

     “Fuckin’ dumbass old son of a….” he grumbled into Frank’s shoulder, but squeezed just as tight. “I swear to god Frank-”

     “Hush. Let me hold my boy.”

     And he did, quieted down and let himself be held for as long as Frank wished, and when the old man finally let him go he looked significantly calmer. 

     “There. Now I’m happy.” Frank teased. He then set that same gentle smile on Icarus. “And you must be Icarus.” 

     Like a bone-deep instinct kicking in, they stepped forward and held out a hand. “Yes, sir. Icarus Gilded, it’s nice to meet you, sir.” 

     “Alright, none of that ‘sir’ nonsense.” Frank said, shaking his head at the same time he shook their hand. His hand was gnarled, knotted, and curling in on itself, but his handshake was still impeccable - perfect grip, a single bounce, eye contact. The man knew what he was doing. “My name’s Frank, it’s a pleasure to have you, Icarus. Always a treat when Cen brings someone around.” 

     So Judi called Centross “David,” and Frank called him Centross? Icarus was beyond confused but did their best to hide it. The last thing they needed to do was open a can of worms they weren’t supposed to know about. They were supposed to be here to get away from family drama, not start it. 

     “Thank you for having me, si- Frank.” That felt weird. Centross huffed. 

     “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Old Man. I see those hands.” 

     This time, Frank had the decency to look sheepish. “I know, I know. Your mother’s gotten on my case about it enough already.”

     “Clearly not, look at’cha!” Icarus was inclined to agree, though they didn’t fully understand what the trouble was, with the way Centross pointed accusingly at the bundles on the ground. “Listen, go inside, sit down, get mom to look at your hands. I know they’re hurtin’ you. I’ll take these down to the barn. That’s where you were goin’ with ‘em, right?” Frank nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Go rest.” Between the music on the drive down and the few minutes he’d been home, Centross’ accent had already begun to creep back in, now significantly stronger and very noticeable. (And also very, very attractive. Icarus had to force themself not to think of what certain things would sound like coming from him in that accent. They were only partially successful.) 

     Frank sighed, though he didn’t seem too put out by the lecture. Icarus was still in shock the lecture was happening , and no one was getting upset about it. Frank didn’t seem bothered in the slightest , like he’d experienced this same situation many times before. (By the way Centross and Judi had been talking, he probably had. Even more surprising, Centross getting away with it more than once.) 

     Holding his arms out once again, Frank pulled Centross into one last hug, which he all but melted into. 

     “Love you, Champ.” 

     Centross hummed. “Love you too, Papa.” He then started shooing Frank towards the house. 

     The man laughed, and the sound echoed across the land, skipping over the grass like a small stone on a pond. It was a deep, but not intimidating sound. Like a low bubbling creek, tripping over rocks in its path and finding it the funniest thing in the world. As he walked away, he reached out a hand - slowly, very obviously broadcasting his movements, giving Icarus plenty of time to pull away, but they were stuck in their spot - and laid a gentle hand on their shoulder.

     “Welcome home, Kiddo.” 

     And he walked back up the path to the farmhouse. 

     Icarus stared into the space in front of them until Centross waved a hand in front of their face. 

     “You good?” 

     They blinked. 

     “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” 

     Centross clearly didn’t buy it. “Just spit it out, what’s botherin’ you?” 

     “Nothing’s… bothering me, just…what does that mean? ‘Welcome Home,’ why did he say that? I don’t live here.” 

     “..Ah.” Centross shook his head with a smile. “That’s Frank for you. He’ll always be the first in line to take in a stranger. If you’re a guest in his house, he’s makin’ sure you know you’re welcome. Judi’s that way, too. Plus, anyone I bring home is pretty much automatically counted as family.” He stripped off his flannel overshirt, tying it around his waist, leaving him in the white undershirt as he bent down to hoist up the wire fencing (it didn’t look like fencing, but that’s what Judi had called it). 

     “Right….” Icarus watched him lift the two bundles, quietly appreciating the way the muscles in his hands and arms flexed with the effort. They didn’t look that heavy, so they weren’t sure if looks were deceiving, or if Centross was just putting on a show. Only one way to tell. “Let me take one.” Centross hesitated. 

     “You sure?” he asked. 

     “Yeah, gimme one.” 

     Centross pursed his lips in thought, then set one of the rolls down. “Ok, but be careful. There’s sharp ends in there. Don’t want you gettin’ cut.” 

     Icarus gave the wire a quick once-over to determine a safe spot, then hoisted it up. It was heavier than it looked. Not obscenely heavy, but enough for them to give Centross a not-guilty verdict on the “showing off” thing. 

     It didn’t help their already racing heart, though. Icarus was beginning to think they may have a cowboy kink.

     It wasn’t a short walk down to the barn, but it wasn’t an unbearable one, either. Fenris hadn’t been lying when he said the place was beautiful. The backdrop of the sunset against the fields and occasional smattering of trees made it feel like they were walking through a movie scene; everything was just so wide open and clear, sightlines for miles with very few buildings to break it up. The barn itself was a decrepit old thing; all old wood and rust, paint peeling away, and filled with junk. The interior looked like it might have once held stalls, but the doors had long since been removed and pieces of the walls had broken apart. The ladder up to the hayloft looked recently repaired, though, with a few fresh rungs, the clean and sturdy wood standing out against the greying boards surrounding it. 

     Centross had them set the fencing down in a random corner next to some old tire rims that Icarus could only assume belonged to a tractor, since they were far too large for any reasonable car. 

     “This is where Frank taught me to throw for the first time.” Centross mentioned offhandedly once the fences were safely stowed. Icarus recognized the invitation for what it was, and jumped at the opportunity. 

     “Really?” 

     “Yeah. That was…certainly a day.” He leaned back against the wall of the barn. Icarus thought he had far too much faith in its ability to hold his weight. “I’d just gotten myself in trouble at school again; got in another fight. He found me proppin’ up whatever random shit I could savage from here on that back fence and throwin’ rocks at it.” 

     Turning around, Icarus could see through the other entrance of the barn a thick wooden fence that appeared in about as good of shape as the barn. The width of it would’ve made a solid spot to prop up targets, they thought idly. But that wasn’t the part of the sentence that caught Icarus’ attention. 

     “You got in trouble at school a lot?” They raised an eyebrow at him. “Mr. Duty-and-Honor, Teamwork-And-Respect, Iron-Fist-Lay-Down-The-Law was a delinquent?” 

     That earned them an eyeroll (win for them). “I was an angry kid who’d just been through hell. I looked for control wherever I could get it.” 

     There was something about that statement that set off alarm bells in Icarus’ subconscious. They couldn’t quite put their finger on it, but something about it felt… familiar.  

     They shoved the feeling down as quickly as it came. 

     “Actually,” Centross pushed himself off the wall, “c’mere. I wanna show you somethin’.”

     Icarus’ eyes widened when he began to climb the ladder to the hayloft. 

     “That looks like a death trap.” 

     Another eyeroll. “It’s fine, I come up here all the time. If it can handle me, it can handle your twink ass.” 

     “Ex cuse you ??” They squawked as Centross disappeared into the hayloft, his laughter ringing out above them. Face red, they huffed and gripped the ladder, wincing every time they put their weight onto a new rung, just waiting for the thing to collapse and send them careening down to the bottom again. 

     (For a moment they had to pause, gripping the ladder tight as they fought off the intrusive thought that pushed its way into their mind, of a flailing body falling out of a tree, falling down, down, down….)

     “Hey, coward, you comin’ up or what?” 

     Centross’ goading pulled them back to reality and they glared up at the top of the hayloft. 

     “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” 

     They scaled the ladder thankfully without incident, and found Centross sitting just inside the hayloft window, legs dangling over the side. Carefully, they took up the spot next to him; they didn’t mind heights; they were actually quite comforted by being up high. Up high felt freeing. Like no one could touch them, judge them, control them. They could just…be. 

     Centross smiled at them as they took a deep breath and relaxed, that soft, soft smile, leaning back on his hands.

     “I used to come up here a lot. You can see pretty much the entire property.” 

     Icarus looked out upon the farm, and nodded. “It’s a good spot.” They swung their feet against the side of the barn for a moment, just taking it all in, then asked, “So what part belongs to your parents?” 

     “Technically? None of it. The farm belongs to the neighbors. They live up there.” He pointed slightly to his right, where on the horizon, Icarus could see a large estate house surrounded by a small grove of trees. “Frank and Judi originally moved in with the intention of rentin’ for a while until they could afford to purchase some of the land. But things…didn’t work out. They essentially rent the house and a small amount of the land surrounding it.” 

     Icarus nodded slowly, taking in the information and filing it away, and although they were curious, Centross had tensed a little and his smile had dropped; they thought it wise not to pry. This was supposed to be a nice time. So they redirected. 

     “Sooo these neighbors,” They picked up a stray piece of hay and began splitting it apart and letting the pieces drift down to the ground below. “Tell me about those guys.” 

     This time, Centross relaxed again, and his smile returned. “The Ordalls have owned this land for a long time. A long time ago I was told the full story of how they originally came over from Norway, but it’s been too long now and none of it matters anyway. They’re so far removed from their own family history at this point that they don’t even care to remember. The man who used to own the land died about…fifteen years ago? Sixteen? I don’t remember. He passed it on to his eldest, a guy named Asariel, who apparently got spooked and ran off. He’s out there somewhere, runnin’ the farm remotely, and won’t even step foot on the property. Apparently he’s a dick. The second oldest, Phineas, actually runs the place. They have a sister who packed up and moved out shortly after their dad died, Vydia. And then there’s the twins, Morgan and Dio. They do a lot of the actual manual labor with the hired hands, and help out on the Jackson side a lot. Same with their little sister Mei. Those are the three I grew up with. Frank and Judi basically adopted them, too.” So Centross was adopted. They figured, but it hadn’t felt right to ask. “Gods knows they didn’t have any parents left, and Phineas didn’t know the first thing about raisin’ kids. He might as well’ve handed them over directly. If he’d had more of a spine, who knows. Maybe he would’ve.” 

     “So asshole eldest, spineless second, sister who left, twins, youngest sister, and dead parents.” 

      “Yup.”

     Icarus was starting to get the idea that Frank and Judi had a habit of taking in strays, and against their will their traitorous mind wondered if maybe they shouldn’t introduce them to Rae. He’d be happier here. Then an aggressive wave of envy hit them at the thought of letting Rae in on their moment. Their potential new happy place.

     They then felt guilty about feeling so jealous. This would probably be the only time they got to be here, anyway.

     They tried to ignore it, looking out across the sea of green and gold. The setting sun had begun to wash everything in a gentle amber, and looking at Centross, they were once again struck by how much more relaxed he looked. He looked, for lack of a better word, at home . Comfortable, in a way they hadn’t seen from him before. They’d seen him comfortable, in his apartment, in the quiet moments they spent together, in the not so quiet moments , but this was a different kind of comfort. This was peace. Icarus yearned to know that peace.

     If Centross had struck them as handsome lit up by the sunset before, then in the dwindling hues of the golden hour, he looked godly.  

     He was lovely.

     And Icarus was so completely, irrevocably, undeniably fucked . 

     Their quiet admiring was interrupted by the return of Hope’s barking Judi’s call yelled from off in the distance - 

     “KIDS! SUPPERTIME!” 

     Centross elbowed them. “C’mon. If you thought your pancakes were good, you might just see heaven when you try Judi’s cookin’.”

     As they stood, Icarus frowned. “We’re not kids.” Centross just laughed at them.

     “She’s in her sixties, Ic,” he said as he climbed down the ladder first. “They both are. To them? We’re still kids.”

     Icarus supposed that was fair, and threw their legs over the side of the hayloft to climb down, but froze when they registered all of the words he’d said.

     “Seriously? Ic ?” 

     Centross, now at the bottom, just smirked up at them.

     “Yeah. Why, it bother ya?” He crossed his arms. Icarus huffed at him. Their feet hit solid earth, and the two began walking back towards the farmhouse.

     “You couldn't've picked any other nickname?” 

     “How else do you shorten ‘Icarus’?” 

     “You don’t have to shorten it! You could use, like, anything else!” 

     “Nah. You’re Ic.” 

     “Son of a-” 

     They bickered the entire way back, Centross dodging their swings and poking fun at them, and when they reached the house, Judi stood on the front porch, watching them with equal parts exasperation and mirth. (For a brief second, Icarus could’ve sworn she was narrowing her eyes at them, but it was gone so fast, they wondered if they hadn’t imagined it.)

     “Alright, you two. Quit your bickerin’ and wash up. Then come set the table.” 

     “Yes Ma’am.” Centross joked, leading the way through the house to a small bathroom down that hallway Icarus had seen earlier, and after they’d washed their hands, led them back to the round wooden dining table. Icarus tried to help set the table, but Judi lightly tapped the back of their hand in warning when they reached for the plates, ordering them to go sit down because they were a ‘guest.’ 

     “First-time guests don’t set the table in this house,” she’d decreed. So they sat down. They weren’t about to argue with the Jackson matriarch on their first day (or ever.) 

     Dinner was a hearty beef and vegetable stew, skillet cornbread, and fresh apple pie. Icarus thought they did actually see heaven a few times that meal. The table was alive with conversation, laughter, playful banter, and stories about the day. Icarus shared a few things about themself - their major (chemistry), how long they’d been playing football (as soon as they could run and hold a ball in their little kid hands without dropping it), and their plans for the future (getting a doctorate in chemistry and developing new drugs to treat or cure some of the world’s rarest ailments). Despite the nature of the questions, they never felt interrogated. Frank and Judi always managed to pose the questions in a way that came across as genuinely interested, and by the end of the dinner, they weren’t feeling nearly as nervous as when they started. Centross seemed noticeably relieved that they were all getting along so well.

     Everything was off to a great start.

     Just as they were finishing up, there was a knock at the door. Centross watched as Icarus startled at the noise, and shifted so his leg pressed into theirs under the table as Judi got up to answer it.

     “There you are.” She ushered the newcomer inside. “I was about thinkin’ you got lost!” 

     “Sorry, Judi,” they drawled out. “Got sidetracked.” 

     Oh hell. Centross knew that voice. And things had been going so well, too. He had really, really been hoping for at least a few hours before having to deal with their antics, but it seemed he’d arrived on a supper-share night. When he turned around in his chair, there they stood, removing their hat and shaking their shock of neon green hair back into place. 

     “I thought I recognized the truck in the drive!” They simpered, leaning against the wall while Judi dug around for bowls and containers and scooped portions of the meal into them. “Welcome home, QB.” 

     Centross rolled his eyes, but couldn’t force down his own smile. “Dio. You know I thought maybe I’d get one night of peace before having to deal with your ass, but I guess my luck’s run dry.” 

     They half slid off the wall with the force of their cackling. 

     “You’re lucky Gana hasn’t noticed you’re back! You better come by tomorrow or-”

     “-I’ll never hear the end of it, I know.” 

     “Yeah, and I ain’t savin’ your sorry ass this time!” Mid-snicker, Dio’s eyes fell upon the other occupant at the table, and they whistled low as they registered the new face. “Heyy, and who might you be, Handsome?” 

     “Dio.” Centross growled, but Judi beat him to it. 

     “Be nice, Dio.” She said in warning from the stove without turning around

      “It’s only their first night, go easy on ‘em. We don’t need you scarin’ the poor thing off.” 

     “Oh I would never!” Dio gasped in mock affront, hand over their heart, at the same time that Centross said “I wouldn’t hold your breath.” 

     Dio casually flipped him off and grinned at Icarus, taking a large step across the floor to lean over and hold out a hand without tracking too much dirt into the house. 

     “Dio Ordall, pleasure to meet ya.” Gods, just the way they moved looked too fluid to be human. Like they were gliding through the air, frictionless, slicked up on their own charisma.

     Icarus took the offered hand. “Icarus Gilded. Centross mentioned you.”

     “Oh, did he now?” Dio’s voice was dripping in cocky amusement. Centross could see the wheels turning in their stupid head already, and he smacked their shoulder when they pulled back from the handshake.

     “I’m not, I’m not!” Their hands were up in playful surrender immediately, and then reached out to take hold of the stack of tupperware containers wrapped in a gingham handkerchief Judi handed to them. “Thank you, Judi, this looks lovely.” They dropped their mischievous face to be genuine for a moment. ”We always appreciate it.” 

     “Of course, Darlin’, all y’all are always welcome to stop by, you know I’ll feed you. Now, get on down here.” Judi nearly bent them in half to hug them, the bean pole they were, and gave them a quick kiss on the top of their head before letting them go. “Now go, you got hungry folks waitin’!” 

     “Right, I’m off then. Bye Judi, bye Frank. See you tomorrow, QB. And you,” they flashed Icarus another bright smile and sent them a wink, “I definitely hope to see tomorrow as well.” 

     “Okay, get out!” Centross just about got up out of his chair, and Dio quickly donned their hat again and scampered out the door. 

     “Thanks again!” They called as they ran off with the food. Centross settled back into his seat and let out a long sigh. 

     “They’re…interesting.” Icarus commented lightly. Centross snorted. 

     “Yeah. Yeah that’s one way to put it.” 

     He’d already known he’d have to keep an eye out, but this time, it seemed Dio was a menace on a mission. And he could not let them get Icarus alone under any circumstances. 

     They were not going to win again. 

     He’d make sure of it.

 

Notes:

THEM! THE JACKSONS, BESTEST OLD PEOPLE! AND DIO, THE LITTLE SHIT THEY ARE! I'm so pumped I love them so much, they're so good. Me me when.

 

As always, Pinterest boards
And Spotify Character Playlists

 

And come scream at me on Tumblr! I live for hearing what y'all think!

Chapter 3: Blood Of the Covenant (Part 1)

Summary:

Day 1 at the Jacksons, and our beloved gays have some people to go see.

Notes:

This chapter was gonna be so insanely long if I didn't cut in in half, so here's part one. :) Maybe I'll combine them down the line sometime. Maybe I won't. Who knows. Either way, this is what's helping my brain do the things right now, so this is what we're doing!

tws for this chapter: mild sexual content, dissociation, panic

     Break or no break, ever consistent, Centross awoke with the sun. The thin curtains of his bedroom window did very little to block the sunlight streaming in, just enough that his eyelids couldn’t completely block it out. (Living on a farm, that was intentional.) He was warm, with a solid weight on his bare chest. With a yawn, stretching his free arm, he opened his eyes. 

     He would never get over the wash of relief waking up in his childhood bedroom. His real childhood bedroom. The random posters on the walls, the mess of a desk covered in his and Icarus’ things, the old football trophies and team photos on scattered shelves, and his most prized possession - the first football he’d ever thrown, with the first real father he’d ever known, right where it’d always been in its place of honor on the dresser. 

     But this time, there was something else that grabbed his attention and hoarded it. They had a knack for that, grabbing his attention and holding it possessively, just out of reach, taunting him with it, grinning like a little shit until he gave them what they wanted. Gods, they drove him insane. In many ways. That much would never change. 

     Icarus truly lived up to their name in this light - Gilded . Golden. The way the sun fell upon them made them look like a painting, a perfect depiction of beauty and grace in flesh and bone, and they felt just right tucked into his side, half laying atop him, face pressed into his neck. They looked so peaceful, deep in sleep, all traces of anxiety, stress, or mockery gone from their face. They looked… innocent. He almost laughed at the thought. Icarus Gilded, innocent ? There couldn’t be a more ill-fitting word to describe them. 

     And yet, the word seemed oddly apt in that quiet moment; he took his time, memorizing them like this, burning it into his brain, and let his arms wrap around them just a bit tighter. Ran his fingers through their hair, pushed his hand under their sweatshirt to lay against their back, just feeling them, feeling their heartbeat, their warmth. He wished he could hold them like this for eternity. And in that stillness, he could almost convince himself he could.

     But eventually, inevitably, his sleeping beauty must also awaken; their first signs of consciousness were a small huff, and an adorable scrunch of their nose. Then, they buried their head even further into his neck as though the sunlight had personally offended them. Centross couldn’t hold back his chuckle this time, and they made a small sound of displeasure at their pillow shaking under them so disruptively. 

     He nuzzled their hair, giving them another small squeeze. “Mornin’.” 

     They let out a big yawn, eyes blinking open, and oh , they were still very much waking up. There was very little comprehension happening in those eyes. 

     Centross took the opportunity, lifting their chin just enough to bring their lips to his, kissing them oh-so-slowly, a lazy, open-mouthed thing, just enough to leave them breathless, then pulled back to watch as they blinked, again, and again, their poor brain trying to boot up enough to register the action. He saw the moment it clicked , when their mouth broke into a grin, and they leaned up to kiss him back. Cute.

     Centross lost track of time in that kiss, just content to lie there with them, as the sun slowly rose in the sky to decorate it with vibrant watercolor. He wasn’t quite sure when their position shifted, all he knew was that when they finally came up for air, he’d sat up in bed with the glorious creature that was Icarus Gilded straddling his lap, cupping his face, looking down at him with those half-lidded eyes, hair mussed and sweatshirt rumpled by sleep. 

     “Mm. Like waking up like that,” they mumbled words transforming into a yawn halfway through. 

     “Me too,” he whispered back, letting his hands trail up and down their spine under the hoodie, then to their thighs, then back around their waist. Once he started touching them, it was near impossible to stop. Their body felt too perfect in his hands. “We should get up.” 

     “Hnng, noooo~” They all but collapsed into him, and tucked their head into his neck again. “‘s too early.”

     “It’s morning, Ic, we have things to do today.” 

     “Thought this was a break?” 

     “It is . We’ve still gotta get up.”

     “Mmmm no. Wan’ sleep.” 

     “You want me to drag you outta this bed?”

     “Nooo~” 

     Ah, and so the whining began already. It was far too early for that. Luckily, he’d dealt with them long enough to know exactly how to handle their little tantrums.

     With a mock-resigned sigh, Centross reached one arm across their back and the other behind their head and neck, and using the support of their legs already around his waist, surged upward and flipped them both over in one fluid motion, letting Icarus bounce lightly against the mattress as he settled himself atop them. 

     “It is too early-” he began, letting his voice dip into that register he knew they loved , and in combination with how his voice already rasped from overnight disuse and the sudden manhandling, they froze , eyes widening face flushing. “-for you to be a brat already. You want to sleep? How about I just leave you here and go about my day, hm? That sound good?” They shook their head violently, chest beginning to heave. “Or I could drag pretty lil’ ass outta this bed myself, if you’re gonna be stubborn about it. And you’ll have lost kiss privileges for the morning. Or ,” he leaned in close, dropping a kiss just below their ear, relishing the whimper it pulled out of the body beneath him, “you could get up all by yourself like a good boy, and I’ll kiss and hold and touch you all you want, treat you like the masterpiece you are all. day . But that’s up to you. So?” He felt them swallow hard with his lips against their throat, and couldn't help but nip at the skin there, startling another delectable noise from them.

     “I-I’ll get up.” 

     Centross smirked. 

     Works every time.

     “That’s what I thought.” He leaned down to reward them with one more kiss, deep, languid, possessive . Forcing them to slow, to go at his pace, ignoring the way their hands dragged up his arms and gripped his shoulders hard , the way they pushed into him and pulled him down in equal measure, the way their hips canted upward, urging him on, silently pleading for more. Craving it.

     And as difficult as it was to deny them, he could already smell breakfast downstairs, and didn’t want to leave Judi waiting. 

     “Alright, up now.” He pushed off of them and stood, leaving them gasping, grabbing his own sweatshirt off the desk chair. “I’ll be downstairs, you know where the bathroom is. Ten minutes, or I’m coming back up here and dragging your ass down there in whatever state you’re in.”  

     He left the room before they could reply, lightly jogging down the narrow stairs into the kitchen. 

     Despite the cool fall weather, the kitchen windows were open, though he could hear the soft crackling of a fire in the fireplace. The space was filled with birdsong, and as he’d suspected, Judi was nowhere to be seen, yet the table was already set for breakfast, the coffee pot was full, and the counter was laden with covered serving dishes. 

     He rounded the corner to the living room, purposefully making his footsteps a bit louder, unsurprised to see Judi on the sofa, feet up on the ottoman and Hope on her lap, a mug of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. His efforts worked like a charm, and she looked up as he came into her line of sight. 

     “Mornin, Baby,” she greeted him with a smile, closing her book. Hope stood from her lap, stretched out with a yawn, and hopped down to do the same. He repeated the greeting as he knelt to give her pets. “Is Icarus up?”

     “Yeah, they’ll be down in ten.” And he was certain of that. Short of a freak accident on the way down the hall, there was nothing that was going to keep them from following directions after his little display .

     “Well, help yourself, but first-” She set her book aside, and Centross paused at the look on her face. Oh, he knew that look. He knew that look well. “Cen, are you… sure about them? I mean, you can’t blame me for being concerned, when all you’ve done for the past four years is rant and rave about how awful they are.” 

     He stood, and leaned against the wall. He’d expected this. It was a big jump from “Motherfucking Gilded” to “Mother, I’m fucking Gilded.” Four years was a long time, and that hatred had been real . She’d know that more than anyone. 

     “No, I know I can’t. And I knew you would be. But…it’s not that they weren’t an asshole, or even that they’ve suddenly changed all that much. It’s-” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering how the hell to word this. “Forced proximity and cooperation will do a lot. And one thing it did was make me realize how much we had in common. Childhood wise .” 

     He watched as understanding and recognition blossomed across her face, and watched as it morphed into that familiar righteous fire. 

     “Their father.” 

     He nodded. “Workin’ closely with Icarus, I was able to see the signs. It was too similar. And they’re still goin’ through it. They’re still dealin’ with him on a daily basis. Judi, this is the first time they haven’t gone home. Ever .” 

     His mother breathed in a long breath. “Well, it sure explains a lot. But there’s more to it than that.” She leveled him with a knowing look, the one that felt like it pierced his soul anew every time. “David. You’re in love with that boy.” 

     And that was it. There was no hiding anything from Judi; his mother knew him inside and out, better than he knew himself. She’d seen him go through this same thing twice before.  

     “Yeah.” He was surprised at how shaky his voice came out. “Yeah, I am.” 

     Judi’s eyes softened, and she got up from the couch, crossed the room, and took him by the arms to pull him off the wall. 

     She cupped his face in her hands. “You got such a big heart, Baby, an’ it got so much love in it. I- I just don’t want you to get hurt . But-” she took a deep breath, “if you trust ‘em, I’ll hold back. I reserve the right to talk to ‘em ‘bout it, but…I won’t mama bear. Promise.” 

     His heart felt like it was being crushed as he took her wrists in his hands, just holding them. He ducked his forehead to gently press against hers. 

     “Thanks, Mama.” 

     He felt a hand of hers slip out of his grip to hold the back of his head. “I love you, Violet. You’ll always be my baby, no matter how big you get, hear me? I’m always gonna worry ‘bout you.”

     The nickname, sounding so very different from her mouth, so very familiar, settled over him like a blanket. It hadn’t always been said in the foreboding tone it had taken on in the last few years; once, it was always said in love, a teasing reminder of the very first sign of appreciation he’d ever given her, back before he knew how to express the words on his heart. Back when he’d been so uncertain, still trying to find his footing in a world that cared. Back when a messy attempt at a bouquet of wild violets scavenged from the nearby forest’s edge spoke volumes.

     “I love you too, Mama.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and pulled her into an all-encompassing hug. “So much.” 

     Once Judi was certain he was fine, that everything was ok, he retreated to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, Icarus still had five minutes to get downstairs, so he pushed open the front screen door and enjoyed his coffee on the porch, hands curled around the warm cup as the cold nipped at his nose. 

     Off in the distance, he could hear machinery working away at the last dwindling remains of crops in the fields. Harvest season was wrapping up, so it wouldn’t be long before the country mornings were dead silent save for the rustling leaves. Farmhands would pack up for the winter, birds would fly south, animals would go into hibernation, and the only ones left to fill the space would be the people left behind. In the back of his mind, Centross was already plotting how to ask Icarus to Christmas, if that was even an option. If this trip didn’t open their eyes to what a family could be, experiencing a Jackson Christmas surely would. Over the years the family had really expanded; last time he’d counted, they were up to eighteen annual attendees, between all of the partners and siblings. 

     Maybe he could bring that number up to an even twenty. Fable sure as hell didn’t deserve his kids’ presence over the holidays. 

     He’d been wondering about Rae since he’d met him. Icarus hadn’t been keen on sharing anything about the man until a solid four drinks in, when they’d called him their brother, and heavily implied that his very existence was supposed to be a ‘big family secret.’ Centross personally knew enough affair babies to connect that piece of information to Icarus’ harsh words outside the locker room. He also knew Aax and Caspian’s partner happened to share the same name. It wasn’t an uncommon name, so it was distinctly possible that those were two different Raes, but he’d never actually met his best friend’s new partner yet, and wouldn’t it be funny if she was dating his par… situationship ’s brother? 

     ….Come to think of it, wasn’t that also Athena’s mentor’s name? 

     If those were all the same Rae, Centross was going to laugh so hard-

     He was pulled out of his thoughts from voices inside; he glanced back through the screen door to see Judi pushing Icarus into a seat at the dining table and obviously fussing over them. 

     Icarus visibly jumped and turned at the sound of the door opening as he went in, and he quickly slid up behind them, running a hand through their hair and dropping a kiss down onto it to reassure them. 

     “Just me,” he murmured, just loud enough for them to hear, relieved when they relaxed. 

     Centross tried to help Judi plate up food for the both of them, but she just smacked the back of his hand playfully when he reached for the serving spoon and shooed him away to the table. So, instead, he took a seat next to Icarus, taking the hand they weren’t using to clutch a glass of orange juice in his. 

     With the first sip of the liquid, Icarus looked like they’d ascended.  

     “What the fuck ,” they whispered, then winced and glanced at Judi in apology, like they hadn’t heard Centross and Dio swear in front of her the night before. 

     Judi just laughed, and Centross joined her, squeezing Icarus’ hand. “Never had fresh orange juice?” 

     “Huh?” 

     “My mother will only serve juice from oranges she squeezed herself,” he explained. “Speaking of, how are you likin’ the juicer, Judi?”

     “Oh it is wonderful !” Judi’s eyes sparkled as she set the plates full of food down on the table. “It is so much nicer on my hands. Your father is especially grateful, he missed the fresh juice.”  

     When Icarus looked confused, Centross pointed to a gadget on the kitchen counter next to a pile of orange peels. 

     “Someone got her an electric juicer as an anniversary present a few months ago. Who was it again?” 

     “It was the Moores! Beau and Callie, lovely people. Callie’s in my book club. Actually, she suggested the book we’re readin’ right now. It’s horror , if you can believe it. Not half bad, either, though I think some of the other ladies might be a bit too delicate. I’ll have to ask her for more recommendations. You’d like it, David. It’s thrilling!” 

     “Right, yeah. I’ll have to take a look.” When Judi’s back was turned, Centross sent Icarus a ‘that was more information than I wanted’ look, and smirked when they had to cover their mouth to avoid spitting juice everywhere. 

     They kept up the lighthearted chatter as the younger two ate breakfast, and when they were just about done, Judi asked, 

     “So, any fun plans today?”  

     Centross nodded behind his newly-refilled coffee cup. “Ordalls, first thing. Don’t think I can put that off much longer without seriously hearin’ about it.” 

     Icarus frowned, swallowing a bite of egg. “Ok, why is it so important you go talk to them? Dio said the same thing last night.” 

     “Oh, one of the neighbor girls is…protective.” Judi piped up from the sink. Centross rolled his eyes. 

     “One way to put it.” He turned back to Icarus. He still hadn’t let go of their hand the entire meal. “So, you remember when I was tellin’ you about the neighbors I grew up with?” 

     They nodded. “Yeah. Dio was one of them, and then…I don’t remember the other names.” 

     Centross chuckled. “Fair, I kind of threw them all at you at once. You’ll get ‘em down when you meet ‘em. Morgana is Dio’s twin sister. Call her Morgan. Only people she’s close to can call her Gana, and that is not you. Their little sister is Meira. Everybody calls her Mei, close or not.”

     He could see the wheels turning in their brain as they filed this information away. “Ok. Dio, Morgan, Mei. Who’s the one who’ll…cause problems if you don’t go over there asap?” 

     “That’d be Morgan. She’s…well….”

     “Be nice, David.” 

     “I’m tryin’......ok, so she’s a bitch, but in a good way.”

     “That’s not bein’ nice.” 

     “I said I was tryin’, not succeedin’.” 

     “I thought these were your friends?” Icarus asked, looking bewildered between him and Judi. 

     “They are. And she is. She’s like my sister, actually. Partially why I talk shit about her so much. It’s in love, though,” he added when Judi glared over at him, “I swear.”

     “Ah.” Icarus set their fork down on their empty plate. “Is that why Dio pisses you off so much, too, then?” 

     Oh, Centross felt nauseous at the thought. “ Oh gods, no .” 

     “Cen’s relationship with Dio is a bit different than with the rest of their siblin’s, Darlin’.” Judi came over to collect the empty dishes. Squeezing their hand, he looked Icarus dead in the eye. 

     “Look. Whatever you do, just don’t let them get you alone. Under any circumstances. Ok?” 

     The way Icarus’ eyes widened, he knew he’d worded that poorly, but how else was he supposed to explain this without outright saying it? There wasn’t a better way to put it. 

     “Should I be concerned?” They looked back and forth between him and Judi. “Is Dio dangerous or something?” 

     At the question, his blood ran cold as his words failed him, and he fumbled through some half-assed excuse, trying to backtrack, because that was the last thing he wanted to imply; thankfully, Judi saved him.

     “ No , no, not at all. Dio’s a lovely person, and so very kind and respectful where it matters.” Icarus looked like she’d just told them the sky had actually been green this whole time - a look that only intensified when Centross nodded in agreement. Ah, shit , he was actually going to have to explain this, which never got any easier-

     “Dio is…” He ran a hand over his face. “...a very dear friend. And they are a genuinely good person. I mean that. But…” He could feel Judi’s amused eyes on him as he struggled to form the sentence. “...we have a history. Of sorts. And they like to use it to fuck with me. And that’s all I’m saying about it.”

     “Ok you can’t just say that and not tell me more, what ??”

     “Nope. Nope. I’m done. That’s all you get.” 

     As if it was going to change anything, Icarus turned to Judi, who immediately shook her head and raised her hands. 

     “Oh no, I am not getting involved in this. You’re on your own, Darlin’.” And then, she got this twinkle in her eye, that Centross recognized instantly . He opened his mouth to change the subject, to cut her off, anything , but it was too late. “Besides, that’d be givin’ Centross an unfair advantage!” 

     Goddamn it Judi. 

     “What does that mean?”

     “Right!” Centross stood, finally letting go of Icarus’ hand to rest it on their shoulder instead. “We need to get movin’, it’s already ten. Imma go get dressed, you comin’?” 

     He didn’t wait for an answer, heading towards the stairs, trying his best to ignore the equal parts apprehension and anticipation growing in his stomach while Icarus protested and complained behind him the entire way up. 

     Surely this could only go well. 

     Growing up in the city, Icarus had a very different idea of what “neighbors” meant than what the word apparently meant out in the countryside. They thought they’d just be walking a short way - the Ordall’s house was visible from the barn, it couldn’t’ve been that far. However, as soon as they were dressed and outside (he’d stuffed them into a stiff, heavy leather jacket, but wouldn’t tell them why) (and they’d had to try really, really hard to pull their eyes away from Centross in his leather jacket), Centross had led them over to the garage, where Frank was tinkering away at something, Bon Jovi playing over the ancient-looking radio. 

     “Frank!” Centross yelled over the music. The man looked up, a smile brightening him right up as he reached up to turn the volume down. 

     “Mornin’ Kiddo! You off?” 

     Centross nodded, swinging an arm around him for a side-hug. “Thinkin’ I’d take the bike for a spin, she alright?” 

     “Sure thing, just checked ‘er over yesterday mornin’.” He reached over to a shelf and pulled down two helmets. “You ever rode a motorcycle, Icarus?” 

     “Uh….” Icarus blinked, staring at the intimidating looking vehicle, then at Centross, then to the helmet Frank was handing over to them. “No?” 

     “Alright.” Frank held out Centross’ helmet, holding it firmly when his son tried to take it. “Drive safe. Be smart.” 

     “You know I will be.” 

     “It’s matin’ season, the deer’ll be out.” 

     “I know.” 

     “An’ Icarus won’t be used to those sharp turns, so don’t get fancy.” 

     “I know, Dad-”

     “Don’t be showin’ off just cause you wanna impress-”

     “Frank,” Centross cut him off, pulled a bit harder on the helmet. “I got it. Promise.”

     Frank seemed to deflate a little, letting go of the helmet. “...I know, Kiddo. Your old man’s just worryin’.” 

     “You and Mom both.” Centross huffed a laugh, holding out his helmet towards Icarus. “Y’all act like I wasn’t ridin’ Az’s on a drivin’ permit. Hold this a sec.” 

     Icarus took the helmet, and Centross kicked back the stand on his motorbike, wheeling it out of the garage. Frank followed him out.

     “You ever think that’s why I worry, David?” 

     “I’m just sayin’ I know what I’m doin’, Dad. I know it was dumb.” He kicked the stand back out once the thing was in the dirt driveway. “I was a dumb kid.” Frank looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually just settled on a resigned yet affectionate shake of his head. It was probably the chillest argument Icarus had ever seen. 

     They tried to imagine having a conversation like that with their own dad, but all they could think of was all the ways it would go wrong.

     “We’re just goin’ down the road.” Centross took his helmet back from Icarus and balanced it on the seat of the bike, taking the other one from them as well. “I’ve driven this girl across the country with a passenger. We’ll be fine.” 

     “I know, I know.” Frank held up his hands in defeat. “Have fun, then. Love you.” 

     “Love you too, Papa.” 

     Frank turned back around to return to the garage, and Icarus watched him go until Centross waved a hand in front of their face. “Hey. You good?” 

     “Yeah.” Icarus straightened up. They weren’t scared. Motorcycles were cool . And Centross driving one was quite the mental picture. 

     (Also, sitting behind him meant they’d get to hold onto him. Perks.) 

     Centross reached up to brush their hair out of their face. He was being awfully touchy that morning - they still felt their core tighten every time they thought back to waking up in his bed. 

     He also did look really hot in his riding gear.   

     “Alright, here we go.” 

     The world went dark for a moment as Centross slipped the helmet over their head, and then it was in position and they could open their eyes again. It was a bit more claustrophobic than a football helmet, as the front was closed by a lightly tinted shield. But they could still see just fine as Centross gripped the bottom of it and used it to tilt their head up, efficiently fastening the straps under their chin. 

     (Something about how easily he could maneuver them like this…..)

     Once he was certain their helmet was secure, he did his own in about half the time, slipping it on and fastening it like it was second nature. 

     “Alright,” his voice was lightly muffled by the helmet, but still audible. “You wanna do this the normal way or the fun way?” 

     “The fun way?” It was a question. They were asking . But looking back on it, if they could’ve seen his face better, they were sure they’d’ve seen a wicked smirk. 

     “Sure thing.” 

     Centross’ hands were on their hips and before they knew what was happening, he was lifting them into the air and setting them onto the small passenger seat. They yelped, gripping onto his shoulders, and glared at him behind the visor after they’d been set down. The bastard just laughed. 

     “You asked for the fun way.” 

     “I-you-ugh.” They crossed their arms. Centross swung his own leg over to straddle the bike, reaching behind him to smack their arms. 

     “Quit pouting and hold on.” 

     That didn’t take too much convincing. They wrapped their arms around his waist, and he took hold of their wrists (oh so gently -) and moved their hands to lay against his chest. “You hold onto me the entire time. Tight . And do not let go. Understand me?” Icarus nodded without thinking. “I can’t see you, use your words. Do you understand, yes or no?” 

     (Oh he was being mean today.)

     “Yeah, I got it.” 

     With that confirmation, Centross started up the motorcycle, and the vibrations shook through their body, startling them. They clung on tighter. 

     And then they were moving down the long dirt driveway towards the main road. 

     As a child, Icarus had always wanted to ride a motorcycle. They’d begged their dad for one, wanted to get their driver’s license just for that reason, but Fable had refused. Said there was no need for Icarus to have a license in the city, where public transportation was so abundant, that motorcycles were death traps for idiots who valued looks over their lives. He’d even sent them a few articles about particularly gruesome motorcycle crashes, just to get the notion out of their head completely. So, obviously, their heart was beating out of their chest as Centross picked up speed, all those memories rushing through their head. They held onto the quarterback with a death grip , head tucked against their back, just trying to breathe. 

     Then, they felt something on their hand. Centross’. He had let go of one of the handlebars to lay his hand over theirs, giving it two short squeezes. 

     He was here. He knew what he was doing. He’d been doing this for a long time. 

     They were ok. 

     They could trust him. 

     They forced their head up. 

     The world whizzed past them - mostly harvested wheat fields, orange and yellow and red trees - and it was beautiful. They found themself relaxing, just a bit, and something deep in their soul clicked into place. That eager child, that excitable teenager, finally getting to experience what they’d always wanted. 

     And it was amazing . 

     The ride came to an end far too quickly after that. They wound down another long dirt driveway, and Centross got off first, pulling off his own helmet and helping Icarus out of theirs. They had barely gotten off before there was a shout ringing through the air. 

     “DAVID CENTROSS MISTVALE JACKSON.” 

     Centross froze where he’d been hanging Icarus’ helmet over the handlebars, and Icarus saw him cringe. Looking where the shout had come from, sure enough, a short, angry woman was storming down the drive. 

     “Hey, Gana.” 

     He didn’t have time to say any more before the woman (Icarus assumed this was Morgan) reached him and socked him in the arm. 

     “It’s almost eleven ,” she fumed, “And Dio says you got home last night?!” 

     “I was showin’ Icarus around,” he defended, rubbing his arm. “And we were tired. Gimme a break.” 

     “And yet you decided showin’ off your ‘precious baby’ to your new sweet thang was more important than checkin’ in with us??!” 

     His new what?  

     “Listen-”

     “I warned ‘im.” The familiar drawl Icarus recognized from the previous night signalled Dio’s approach; they had strolled over quite leisurely in comparison to their sister, who Icarus was now realizing they looked very little like. Despite being twins, they appeared startlingly different; Morgan was all-around darker, her skin a light brown with dark hair, while Dio was aggressively pale. Morgan had brown eyes, while Dio’s were a pale blue. Morgan was shorter and built heavier, and Dio was a tall thin string bean. They looked to be about Fenris’ height, but roughly about a third as broad. Icarus had a harder time pinpointing things about the “twins” that were similar - their wavy hair, their noses, their eye shape.

     Dio tipped their hat to Icarus. “Mornin’, pleasure seein’ you again. How was the ride?” 

     The night before, Icarus had pegged Dio as a player quickly enough - all sly smiles, compliments, winks, and good-natured teasing. Icarus had played the role often enough themself to recognize it. But it differed from their own tactics in one large, key way : they’d never felt problematic. Everything about them was genuine. Even now, with more information (as limited and vague as that information was), they couldn’t imagine why Centross would be so against them interacting with Icarus. 

     Centross wasn’t a possessive man. Ok, well, maybe he was , but not in a toxic way. Never in a way that was legitimately isolating. Basically, Icarus had never seen Centross look at Dio like he had last night. Or the way he looked at them right that second. 

     They did , however, recognize the look Dio sent back at him as one they’d put on many times before. A challenge. An “I’m gonna get on your nerves, what are you gonna do about it?” kind of challenge. 

     Judi’s words came back to them. 

     ‘Besides, that would be giving Centross an unfair advantage!’ 

     …Ah. The pieces clicked. This was a game . Whatever was going on between these two, it was some sort of competition, and it all hinged on them. 

     They didn’t know what the two were playing at , but whatever it was, they wanted in. There was nothing they loved more than pushing every one of Centross’ buttons until he snapped, and it seemed they’d found an ally in Dio. 

     They let their own face settle into an ever-familiar expression of interest . (They hadn’t had to fake it in a while; they hoped they could still pull it off.)

     “It was amazing . I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle.” 

     They watched Dio’s own smirk quirk just the smallest bit further upward. 

     “That’s good to hear. We’ll have to go on another one, together this time.” 

     Icarus raised an eyebrow. “You ride too?” 

     “Who do you think got him into it?” 

     “You did not.” Centross argued. He was still standing by his motorbike, eyeing Icarus and Dio warily. “We literally started on the same day.” 

     “Yes, but it was Azzie's bike. ” 

     “So? That doesn’t mean you got me into it.” 

     “Aaaand it was my idea.” 

     “That still- you’ve got to be kidding me.”

     Morgan interrupted with a huff, glaring daggers between Centross and Dio. “Where’s Mei?” Dio rolled their eyes playfully. 

     “Chill Gana, I texted her when they pulled up. She’s comin’.”

     “Dee?” 

     The whole group turned at the sound, and a younger girl appeared from around the side of the house. 

     Her eyes landed on Centross, and she absolutely lit up.  

     “CENTROSS!”  

     Moments later, she barreled past Icarus and flung her arms around Centross’ neck, solidly colliding with him. If he hadn’t been a football player used to being tackled by much larger people, he’d have been knocked clean over. Icarus didn’t know why they were surprised when he returned the hug immediately, lifting her clean off the ground, all annoyance falling from his face as he spun her around. Her laughter rang through the air, and when he set her back down, his expression was the same soft thing Icarus was still struggling to get accustomed to.  

     “Hey, Bubble.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head before releasing her. This was Mei, then. She looked a lot more like Morgan, similar hair and skin tone, and nearly the exact same height. Her hair wasn’t in the same low ponytail as Morgan's, though, but braided with a few artfully placed leaves tucked into it in reds and oranges that matched the print of her dress. 

     Finally, Centross reached over and took hold of Icarus’ wrist, dragging them closer to himself. “This is Icarus. Ic, you met Dio. These are their sisters, Morgan and Mei.” 

     Mei gave them a cheerful “Hi!” Morgan said nothing, but looked them up and down, as if finally acknowledging their existence. Icarus suddenly felt a strong desire to bolt. They felt studied ; her eyes felt far too knowing, like they were seeing right through them, flipping through all of their secrets like pages of a notebook. It was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch on far longer than it actually did. 

     “Icarus Gilded.” Morgan eventually spoke. Slow. Measured. “The nepo-baby asshole ‘captain’ of the Overworlders who’s been a pain in your ass for years. You gonna explain what the hell you’re doin’, David? Or are we just s’posed to breeze past that one?” 

     …shit. 

     They’d known they’d have to account for a lot on this trip. But fuck the though still scared them. 

     They weren’t prepared to be faced with it so soon.  

     The conversation continued as their heart began to race and they sunk deeper and deeper into their own head. 

     “I was going to , jesus christ, it’s been thirty seconds- ”

     They were gonna hate them. Centross was going to leave them.

     “That feels like something you’d explain in the text messages beforehand, Centross.” 

     They were gonna get kicked out. Why would he want them when his family doesn’t?

     “And I did!”

     Their father would’ve done the same. They couldn’t blame them. 

     “Like at the barest level, maybe. I think I need a bit more than ‘it’s complicated, but we’re ok now’.” 

     Why did it sound like they were underwater? Why were their lungs burning? 

     All at once, the world exploded back into color and they quietly gasped in a breath as a weight settled across their back. 

     “How about we don’t lore-dump in the middle of the yard?” It was Dio. They’d crossed the remaining distance and thrown an arm around their shoulders.  “We can’t have our lovely guest thinkin’ we’re poor hosts now, can we?” They looked down at Icarus with that same mischievous smirk, but there was something else in their eyes. A darkness, a seriousness. This time, Icarus recognized the casual demeanor to be a mask. They also discovered another similarity between the twins: both of their eyes searched your soul . “Why don’t you come in, Gorgeous? We’ll take this to the porch, grab a drink? It’s a beautiful day.” Before Icarus could say anything else, Dio was moving, and with their arm across their back, Icarus had no choice but to walk with them. 

     They managed to look back just as Dio ushered them into the house, and met Centross’ eyes. He looked worried. 

     Guilty. 

     Icarus didn’t get the chance to call back to him before the door closed behind them.

Notes:

Oh no, is that Dio and Icarus? Going off *alone*???? :0

I'd apologize for the cliffhanger but I'm so not sorry :) Part 2 will be coming out soon, anyway, and then y'all will get so much lore it'll more than make up for it (I hope lol).

 

As always, Pinterest boards
And Spotify Character Playlists

 

And come scream at me on Tumblr! I live for hearing what y'all think!

Chapter 4: Blood Of the Covenant (Part 2)

Summary:

Centross and Morgan talk, Icarus spends some time alone with Dio, and forty years worth of family drama is revealed.

Notes:

Everyone say thank you to the awful thunderstorm for making me stay up and finish this (I was so close to done anyway).

THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME HEAVY TWS: Discussion of death, domestic abuse, murder, suicidal ideation, trauma, ptsd, marital difficulty, affairs and divorce, medical descriptions of conception, and morally questionable age gaps/implied grooming (of a vulnerable adult). The vast majority of this takes place in the final scene of the chapter. Please continue with caution, your safety and wellbeing is more important than a fanfic.

     Dio led Icarus through the large, imposing house that couldn’t have been further in energy from the Jackson’s. The small farmhouse had been cosy, warm, inviting. This place felt cold and only partially lived in. Every door in the Jackson house had been open, but here it felt like entire sections had been closed off and shut away. Some doors had literally been sealed shut with expanding foam, others barely peeked out from behind massive bookcases or cabinets. 

     They felt uncomfortable just looking at those doors. Like their skin felt wrong, like their organs weren’t sitting right in their body. 

     Like something was very, very wrong with those doors.

      Or whatever was behind them.

     It passed quickly enough when they reached the large screened-in porch, and Dio pushed them down onto a chair with surprising gentleness given their former insistence. 

     And it was at this point that Icarus realized they were alone. With Dio. 

     ‘Look. Whatever you do, don’t let them get you alone. Under any circumstances. Ok?’

     Listen, they were all for whatever game they were playing with Centross, but they couldn’t deny the wording of his warning hadn’t left them nervous. 

     “Something to drink, Icarus?” They asked, strolling over to the minibar along the brick wall that connected the space to the house. How stupid would it be to take a drink from Dio? For a moment they considered making an excuse; but for as ominous as Centross’ warning had been, both he and Judi had sworn up and down that Dio was good, trustworthy, safe . Their nerves were probably unwarranted, as strong as they were. Icarus nodded as best they could. 

     “Yeah. Please.” 

     Dio leaned against the countertop. The unsettlingly serious cloud that had slipped over them had dropped, and the casual, easygoing Dio was back. “Well, I’ve got a couple things on offer for ya. Obviously we got sweet tea and coke, but since it’s fall, and a bit chilly out, might I recommend some warm mulled cider?”

     “...that sounds amazing, actually.” If nothing else, it would give them something to do with their hands. And it was a bit cold. The partial cover of the screened-in porch did a lot to shut out the wind, but it was still fairly open to the late fall air. 

     Dio grinned and bent down to open the minifridge, pulling out a large glass bottle of amber liquid, grabbing a mug from the counter and filling it. They popped it into the microwave on the counter and as it ran, took a moment to take off their hat and toss it into a nearby chair. 

      “So. Icarus Gilded.” They rested back against the counter behind them again and picked up a spoon from…somwhere, twirling it in their fingers. Dextrous , Icarus thought idly. “You okay?” 

     ….

     Huh?

     “Huh?” 

     “ Huh?” They mimicked, not unkindly, and laughed a little. “I asked if you were ok. I know Morgan can be a lot sometimes, and I’m a hypocrite for sayin’ so, but I wanted to check in.”  

     Oh. That was…not what Icarus was expecting. They were beginning to understand what Judi had meant when she said Dio was ‘kind and respectful when it matters.’ Maybe they didn’t need to be wary of them. 

     “I’m…okay.” They let themself relax a bit further into the couch. “Just…yeah. A lot.” 

     “Mm. Makes sense. You’re walkin’ into quite the lion’s den. Meetin’ the family for the first time is always terrifyin’ no matter who you are or what your deal is.” They pointed the spoon at Icarus. “You, however. You’re a special one. Comin’ home with your arch-nemesis who’s spent years cursin’ your name, and being introduced as his partner to his overprotective family? That’s a special brand of hell. You’ve more guts than most for this. I respect it.” 

     “Thanks, that’s-” Two seconds after hearing them, the words sunk in. “Wait, hold on, we’re not- I’m not-”

     “His partner?” Those were the same eyes Morgan had earlier, so knowing , reading them like a book, and their smile didn’t make it any less frightening. “Maybe not, but that title’s a bit of a formality at this point, ain’t it? You’ve slept together, gone out together, been vulnerable with each other. Trust me, Sweetheart, I know that man better than he knows himself. He’s yours in all but words, and even that’d change if you asked.”

     As the microwave beeped, and Dio turned around to retrieve the warmed cider, the words hung heavy in the air. Icarus had no clue how to respond to them. ‘He’s yours in all but words’ - was he? To some degree this was all still a ruse. A means to an end. Right? 

     They were still just playing the part. Right?

     …when had they stopped pretending.

     “Alright,” Dio’s voice pulled them from the spiral before it could properly start. They were standing in front of the couch, now, the mug in one hand and a Dr. Pepper in the other, both of which they set down on the low glass coffee table. “Tell you what, that jacket looks uncomfy. Why don’t you take it off, and I get you a blanket instead?” Icarus didn’t need to be told twice. The jacket was plenty effective at blocking the cutting wind on a motorcycle, but it made their joints feel all stiff and restrained just sitting in it, which wasn’t helping their nerves. So they shucked it off, handing it to Dio who traded it for an obnoxiously large blanket. It looked very similar to the ones scattered around the Jackson’s living room - a present from Judi, maybe?

     As soon as the blanket was out of Dio’s hand, they were scooping up the mug to hand it back over, which Icarus took once they were properly snuggled. It looked like the kind of mug their mom would’ve had around, something with actual character and personality, rather than the plain boring white things used by their father and his staff. It was a bit too hot to drink immediately, but the warmth was nice on their hands.

     Jacket hung on a stand by the door, Dio flopped down onto the other end of the couch. Far enough away that they could face Icarus when speaking, Icarus noted, but close enough to make their specific choice of seat glaringly obvious, the whole other couch and four armchairs circled around the coffee table all offering up a spot a respectable distance away. But Dio had chosen to sit next to them, instead, and cracked open the can of Dr. Pepper they’d grabbed on the way over. 

     “There we go!” They stretched, angling themself towards Icarus and laying a long arm over the back of the sofa. “Now the two of us can talk, one pain in Centross’ ass to another.”

     A small, quiet huff of a laugh escaped Icarus before they could stop it. “Won’t they follow us in?” 

     “Not for a bit, no. I think they need to have a conversation of their own.” 

     “Don’t even think about it.” Morgan shoved Centross back with a hand to his chest as he attempted to follow the two inside. “We need to talk. ” 

     “Somethin’s wrong, I need to check on them. And I do not trust them alone.” 

     “Calm down, Dio’s not gonna pull anything. It’s day one .” Morgan physically placed herself between Centross and the house. “The push-and-pull is half the fun for them, and if there is somethin’ wrong, they’d know better anyway.” 

     “Icarus was dissociating-!”

     “Then there’s no one better! Dio understands that at a level you and I could never , trauma or otherwise. They’re fine . They’re better than fine. You and I, however, are not.” Her hand collided with his chest again and he stumbled back another couple steps. “The fuck ’re you doing, David? You are smarter than this!”

     Finally tearing his eyes away from the door, he met hers, and registered the swirling emotions in them. Anyone else would only see the anger, but Centross knew her too well for that. He saw through it immediately. Hurt. Concern. 

     Fear . 

     “Gana….” He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes. 

     “Don’t you dare ‘Gana’ me David Centross. You’re gonna explain to me what the hell you’re thinking gettin’ all cosy with Icarus Fuckin’ Gilded of all people!”

     “Morgan please I know what it looks like-” 

     “Nuh uh, no, we are not doin’ that. Explain yourself. Now. ” 

     “I’m trying! Will you fucking let me talk! ” As soon as the words left his lips, Centross regretted them. His fists were clenched, his jaw the same, and he could feel his face begin to flush. Anger. He needed to calm down. He forced his hands open and took a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” His own self-reflection seemed to rub off on Morgan, and she took a deep breath of her own. Quietly, wordlessly. Out of the corner of his eye, Centross could see Mei mimic the action, even though there wasn’t a single hint of anger displayed in her body. “What I mean , is that they’re not him. This isn’t like that.” 

     “You can’t know that-” 

     “I can. They’re closer to any of us than they are to that man. I’ve seen it myself.” 

     “They’re an abusive arrogant narcissist. You said it yourself.” 

     “I was wrong. They’re only copyin’ what they’ve seen. They’re not the problem - their father is. They’re hurtin ’, Gana. They’re hurtin’ just like we were. They’re a product. A result. And they’ve never gotten a chance to be better. I’m tryin’ to give them that.” 

     Morgan’s face fell flat. “So what.” Her voice was monotone. “They’re some kinda charity case? Is that it?” 

     “ Don’t. ” Centross snapped. Guilt flashed in Morgan’s suddenly lifeless eyes. “You know I don’t do that.” 

     “Then why.” 

     “I-” Sighing heavily as if to expel the frustration from his body, Centross stared up at the scattered clouds in the sky, trying to organize his thoughts in a way that would make any coherent sense. “I don’t know.” 

     That was the honest truth, wasn’t it? He had no idea. What had started as an intoxicated implosion of pent up rage and hatred funnelled into a night of senseless, desperate, reckless ecstasy had somehow transformed into a soul-deep longing . It had all happened so fast. One second he was just dying to choke them out on the field, the next he was deeply concerned for their safety, the next they were working together, and the next…

     …the next he was waking up to their name on his phone, their panicked breathing over the line, and fighting the urge to run out the door, barefoot and half-dressed, to run to their side and fight off the demons that plagued them. The next he was watching them learn the basic life skills that had been kept from them from his first love and bickering with them over breakfast, watching them begin to heal in real time. The next he was waking up with them in his arms, safe and warm and happy, and wishing he never had to let them go. That they’d never again have to know pain. That he could whisk them away from that sorry excuse of a man who dared call himself their father forever. 

     He had never planned to like them. 

     He had never planned to fall in love.  

     Morgan studied him with an intensity that had at one time unsettled him, but now felt almost comforting. He could always trust Morgan to truly see him, to see what he couldn’t portray correctly, to hear what he couldn’t put into words. 

     He could see the moment when her anger began to lose steam. 

     “I still don’t like it,” she eventually said.  “I don’t like the people I care about gettin’ hurt. ‘specially when I can stop it.” 

     “You don’t have to stop it.” Centross stressed. “I’m not Mei. And I’m not Dio . You don’t need to watch me like a hawk. If I get hurt, it’ll be my own damn fault.” She wasn’t wrong. He’d willingly handed his heart over to someone who held a knife in their clenched fist and been trained to use it. Who’d used it plenty before. Centross wasn’t blind to how risky of a gamble that was. But still…

     …he couldn’t just back out now. He was all in, for better or for worse. 

     “If this is a mistake, it’s one I need you to let me make . ”

     Morgan stared at him, right in the eyes, and he stared back, silently challenging him, seeing how serious he was. He stood his ground. Stared back. 

     Hours passed in a matter of seconds. Morgan took a step back. 

     “Fine. But I reserve the right to a shovel-talk.” 

     Relief hit Centross like a shock wave, and he rolled his eyes even as his mouth stretched into a smile. “Fine, but only if you promise not to scare them off.” 

     “...I’ll keep it non-explicit.” 

     That was as good as he was getting, and he knew it. 

     “Does this mean I have to share you more, now?” 

     Centross blinked at Mei, remembering she was there, and then the words processed in his brain. The laugh tumbled out of him and shattered the tension in the air like glass - even Morgan sighed to hide her own. 

     He opened an arm towards Mei, and she happily tucked herself into his side. 

     “Maybe a little,” he joked. When she pouted, he squeezed her a little tighter and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, slowly rocking them both back and forth. “Hey. You know I’ll always make time for you, right? You can always text or call me. No matter what.” 

     “I knowww~” She wiggled until he let her loose. “Can we go inside now? I’m cold.”

     “I told you to put a jacket on.” Despite the scolding tone, Morgan was already slipping off her own sweater and throwing it over Mei’s shoulders, who slipped it on. 

     “I’m wearing sleeves!” 

     “And they’re clearly not enough if you’re still cold.” 

     “Inside’s good,” Centross answered Mei’s question. “Day one or not I still don’t trust them.” 

     Morgan leveled one last look at Centross, just before he could begin walking towards the house. He recognized the look. One last thing.  

     “...are they safe?” 

     Ah. Right. 

     “In general or to others?” 

     “Both.” 

     And she pretended she didn’t care. Good thing he knew better.

     “We’re working on it.” 

     Morgan squinted. She didn’t like that answer. But she said nothing more, just turned and began walking back towards the front door. Centross was quick to follow, the mental image of Icarus’ fear-clouded eyes looking back at him haunting his thoughts.  

     Please be ok.

     “So,” Dio gestured about the room with their hand. “What d’ya wanna know?” Icarus blinked at them.

     “...about?” 

     “Centross, us, ‘life, the universe and everything,’” Dio said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re in completely new territory right now, aren’t ya. Out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by strangers. I got answers. Or I could just…yap about stuff. Or you could talk about yourself, if you’re in a sharin’ mood, got something on your mind. Up to you. I’m flexible.” 

     The wink they gave them added an extra layer of meaning to the end of their sentence, and Icarus couldn’t help an incredulous laugh. 

     “You’re coming on awful strong for someone talking to their friend’s… lover .” It felt so weird calling themself that, but they weren’t about to use the word “partner” no matter if Dio had used it first or not. That was too…official. Too real. The second they started calling themself his partner was the second they’d failed. “Is that what’s happening here? You’re trying to steal me or something? Is that the game?” 

     The porch was echoey, and Dio’s laugh bounced across the room and up into the rafters when their head fell back against the couch. 

     “I knew you’d picked up on somethin’,” they shook a finger at Icarus. “You are as smart as he said. Good to know. I mean, if you were offerin’ and Cen was ok with it, I wouldn’t be opposed to enterainin’ you for a night, but no. I’m not tryin’a steal you from him. I may be a self-described town bicycle, but I’m no homewrecker.” That seriousness from before flickered through their eyes, just the briefest flash. “I know what that shit leads to.”

     Something cold and heavy settled in Icarus’ stomach at the words. They knew too, all too well. And the way Dio said it….

     “Me too.” they said, mouth moving before they could even think. Dio’s eyebrow quirked up. 

     “Family drama?”

     “You could say that.”

     Dio nodded sagely, and a dark cloud seemed to pass over them. “Me and Gana are technically affair babies. Mei too, if you’re lookin’ ‘big picture.’” 

     Caught off guard by the frankness of the statement, Icarus’ fingers froze where they tapped the side of their mug. “You…and…huh?”

     Dio blinked and stared at them like they’d grown a second head, and spoke their next words so, so slowly. “... affair babies ? You know what an affair is, right?” 

     “I- yes, I know what an affair is! I just- and you just go around admitting that? Aren’t you…isn’t that….” They didn’t know what word they were searching for, but it wasn’t a nice one. Dio scoffed. 

     “What, ashamed?” Yeah. Yeah, that was the word. “Humiliated? Hell no. Annoyed, maybe. Pissed, some days. But hey, what are you gonna do? It’s not like I can be un-born, or make Gana and Mei’s dad not a lyin’ cheatin’ son of a bitch. We live with it. So what. They’re all dead now, anyway. And frankly I’m glad. Took their drama with ‘em.”

     That was…so much. All at once. Icarus felt like they’d been flash-banged with words. 

     “...Oh.” They didn’t know what else to say. But not saying anything felt awkward. They tried to take a sip of their cider. Still too hot. “...What happened?” That was a fucking stupid question..

     “Oh, ok, so now it’s ok to talk about? Now that it intrigues you?”

     “No, that’s not what I meant, I just-”

     “Relax, Handsome.” Dio snickered. “I’m just messin’ with you.” 

     Icarus breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. Can… can I ask what happened?” 

     “I mean, I’d wait for Morgan to give you the full run-down, she’s stingy with that information. As she should be. I’m just looser-lipped about a lot of things. Except for when they need to be tight.” Another wink. Gods , Icarus was understanding why they pissed Centross off so much, now. It was great. “But long story short and censored, me, Gana, and Mei all share a parent. They’re full siblings, I’m half. Our shared parent was the affair their dad had on his first wife. And I was the product of the affair our shared parent had on him , some time in the week before their wedding, presumably. ‘Heteropaternal superfecundation,’ the doctors called it. Twins with different sires. ‘S why we’re so different. Motherfucker didn’t find out until we were eleven.” They took a long sip of their soda. “And now he’s dead, and so are his spouses. My mom is the only one left alive at the end of it all, parent wise. Supposedly. Wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t.”

     Oh. Oh that was…there were so many layers to that, Icarus didn’t know what to focus on. 

     Dio was a bastard child (like Rae). And, for once, looking at the situation from an outside perspective where they weren’t personally affected, Icarus found themself unable to fault them for it. They had never considered the perspective of the product of such a disgrace. How hard that must be, for your very existence, your very genetic code to be proof of misconduct. 

     How much must Rave have been hurting all this time?

     And three of those involved were dead, possibly all of them. Icarus hadn’t ever confirmed that the woman their mom had the affair with was alive, but he’d never told them otherwise. Which meant there was still some sort of justice to obtain, vengeance to claw at. For the Ordalls…that was it. A dead end. No closure. 

     They couldn’t even imagine it. 

     “That’s… fuck .” 

     “Eh. Like I said, we live with it. Frankly the cheatin’ is the least of our problems, but that’s for Gana to explain if she chooses to. But that’s enough distractions! I wanna know what’s on your pretty little mind.” Leaning over, they tapped a lithe finger against Icarus’ forehead, making them blink in surprise. “C’mon now. What’s floatin’ round in there? You gotta be curious about somethin’.” 

     Despite the tonal whiplash of a topic change, Icarus was grateful to move on. (They’d rather not spend a second more down that rabbithole of awful shitty feelings.) And they did , actually, have a rather pressing question to ask. 

     “I’d really like to know why Centross was so insistent that I don’t let you get me alone.” They tried their cider again. Still a bit too warm, but cool enough to actually taste this time. It was fantastic, but could you really go wrong with mulled apple cider? “If you’re not trying to steal me from him, then what’s your deal? Why’s he so protective all of a sudden?” 

     The look Dio got on their face at the question was downright evil , a wide, toothy smile and glinting eyes. 

     “Well see now you’re askin’ the one question I’m not gonna answer.”

     Oh come on . 

     “What? Why not?” 

     “Because that’d be no fun!” Dio talked with their hands, Icarus noticed, watching the way they swung the hand holding their drink around, like it added extra flair to their words or  something. “Showin’ off my cards day one? Where’s the intrigue, where’s the tension, where’s the spice? I got several days of runnin’ Cen around the table before I take my turn. And this hand is particularly good. I think Imma sit on it for a while, watch Mr. Hotshot Quarterback dance around tryin’a stop me. Now that’s some quality entertainment - though I’m sure I don’t gotta tell you that.” They smirked at Icarus over the top of their can as they took another drink. “He’s fun to rile up, ain’t he?” 

     Icarus couldn’t deny that. It was their favorite pastime, getting on Centross’ nerves, poking the bear until he snapped (and it wasn’t even all sexual. He was just really funny when he was annoyed.) They were kinda a veteran at it by that point. 

     “Yeah, he is. Fine. If you won’t tell me what’s up with you two, how about…what was Centross like growing up? Can you tell me that?” 

     “Oh now that I can do!” Dio shifted in their seat, pulling their legs up under them to sit cross-legged on the couch. They practically had to fold themself in half to do so like human origami, transforming into a human pretzel just to fit on the narrow furniture. “So Centross moved into the Jackson’s when we were twelve, right? Now that was one angry kid . Not that any of us could  blame ‘im, though. But he was in trouble at school every other day, gettin’ in fights. The grown-ups started gettin’ sick of him pretty much immediately, ‘cept the Jacksons, of course. They could always see the good in him. We couldn’t, though, that’s for sure. The whole first year, me and him were at each other’s throats. We’d both been through hell; his was fresher, but mine hadn’t faded yet either. The Jacksons and Phin’s fiancée at the time tried to help us get along, but they gave up after a week when Cen nearly cracked my head open tacklin’ me to the floor and knockin’ my lights out. Wasn' t my first concussion, but might just be the nastiest. My own fault, really. Always had a smart mouth. They kept us apart after that - we weren’t allowed within ten feet of each other. School enforced it, too. Lasted months, until we both ended up down by the creek one night. Started out as a fist fight in the mud, ended with us climbin’ the barn roof and trauma dumpin’ to each other - first time either of us had actually talked about any of it. I think it clicked for us, then. That someone else might actually understand. And with that reluctant understandin’, we started toleratin’ each other. I’m not sure when we actually started carin’ ‘bout each other, but I remember the night we both realized it. I was about ready to call it quits when Centross found me. Got in our first fight in years , though it ended pretty quickly when he socked me in the jaw. We made a deal that night that we’d both try. If for no other reason than spite, we’d try. And so we did.” They held up their hands in a ‘tada!’ gesture.  “We got better. He’s come a long way from that angry kid in the back of a cop car. If there’s anything I could tell you having known that man most of his life, it’s that you picked a good one. He’s got his moments, got his quirks, got his baggage. But he’s a good man. For all the shit I talk, I trust him with and owe him my life.” 

     When the monologue ended, Icarus stared on in awe and confusion. They didn’t know what they were expecting in response to that question, but whatever it was, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t a surprise that Centross had a traumatic history; the man was covered head to toe in large patches of scar tissue and a fire in his eyes that could never come out of a safe, comfortable childhood. 

     They were also beginning to understand what Centross meant when he said he and Dio had a history . 

     But it left them with one big, looming question: 

     “What… happened to him?” 

     Before Dio could respond, footsteps from the hallway leading up to the porch alerted its two occupants to the new arrivals. Centross all but burst through the door, eyes darting around and settling on Icarus the moment he entered. 

     “Speak of the devil.” They heard Dio exclaim dramatically next to them, though they couldn’t pull their eyes away from the man in the doorway to look at them. “Imma just…yup. Here we go.” 

     They felt the couch shift, suggesting that Dio got up. Centross jolted forward as Morgan pushed him out of the way to enter the room, his own gaze never leaving theirs. When he said nothing, Icarus tried for a smile. 

     “Hey.” 

     Before they could so much as blink, Centross had crossed the room in three large strides. His hand slipped beneath their chin, lifting their face to study it, scanning them for…something. They didn’t know what he was expecting to find, but whatever he was searching for, it wasn’t there, and they could see the tension release from his shoulders. 

     “Are you okay?” he asked, low, quiet, into the space between them. They nodded the best they could with his hand still craning their neck to look up at him. 

     “I’m okay.” 

     Centross stared at them for a moment longer, and then, without warning, leaned down to capture their lips with his own. Startled by the kiss, Icarus nearly spilled their cider, but managed to right their mug just in time and lean up into him. It wasn’t particularly long, just a short, sweet, comforting thing. 

     And above all, an obvious public display of affection. After months of hiding, of secret rendezvous and only the barest discrete touches anywhere anyone might see them, to be kissed so openly, claimed so openly, sent Icarus reeling . 

     “I’m sorry” were the first words out of his mouth when they parted. “I should’ve noticed you weren’t comfortable, I got too caught up arguing and I completely neglected to check on you-” 

     “Hey, hey.” Icarus cut him off, reaching up to take hold of his wrist, guiding it away from their chin, slotting their fingers into his. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

     “It’s not.” His voice brokered no argument. “I knew that might happen, I knew you could be triggered, and I wasn’t paying close enough attention. I should have noticed, and I failed to do so. I’m sorry.” 

     They wanted to press, but they knew it was a lost cause. He was convinced he’d messed up. And…it felt…nice? To be so cared for? Even if it wasn’t his responsibility to keep tabs on their emotional state 24/7 just in case they freaked out over nothing, it felt nice for someone to care that much, to want to look out for them. 

     They’d never had that before. 

     Seeing they’d be unable to change his mind, Icarus pulled gently on his arm towards the now vacant spot on the couch. “Sit?” It seemed to do the trick, as Centross, looking satisfied that his point was made and his apology accepted, went willingly, sinking down onto the couch beside them. Unlike Dio, he sat as close to them as possible, even reaching an arm around their shoulders to pull them into his side, pressing a kiss to their hair as soon as it was in reach and smoothing it out afterwards. It was cosy, like this - curled up on the couch with a handmade blanket, a cup of warm cider, snuggled into a warm chest with a hand running through their hair. Any previous apprehension disappeared like smoke in the breeze, and they hummed in contentment. 

     As for the others, Dio had swapped over to an armchair, draping themself across it sideways like one of those Renaissance oil paintings of the pretty girls on their chaise-lounges. Mei had successfully puppy-dog-eyed Morgan into getting her a mug of cider, and had curled up on the adjacent sofa as her sister stood by the microwave. 

     “So what exactly did y’all talk about in here?” Centross asked, and the quiet threat on his voice was not lost on Icarus, nor on the lanky farmer as Dio cackled in response. 

     “Relax, QB. I ain’t done nothin’.” Their words and their face did not line up, as their shit-eating-grin made Centross narrow his eyes at them. “I’m not lyin’! Just answered some of their questions, that’s all!”

     “Questions about what ?” Centross pressed. Icarus poked a finger into his chest. “Ow, hey, what?” 

     “They’re telling the truth, quit being an ass.” 

     “I’m not being a-” He cut himself off, breathing in a frustrated breath, before relaxing. “I’m sorry. I just don’t trust ‘em.” 

     “I can’t imagine why~” Dio sang with a bit too much glee, and Icarus mirrored their grin. Centross ran a hand down his face. 

     “Oh, gods…you two are gonna be a problem aren’t you.” Morgan scoffed from the corner.

     “Don’t expect us to pity you. It’s your own fault.” The microwave beeped, and she retrieved the mug, setting it down on the coffee table in front of Mei. “It’s hot. Wait a minute.” When she straightened, she levelled Icarus with that same unsettling, bone-chilling stare that froze them with their own mug halfway to their mouth. “I don’t like you.” 

     “Morgan….” Centross said her name in warning. 

     “ But, ” she shot him a glare, continuing, “you’re important to Centross, which does make you family. So you’re welcome here. But just know, if you hurt him, I come from a family of dangerous and unstable people who are very familiar with the concept of murder, particularly the murder of the partners of siblings who prove themselves to be worth dirt.” Her eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, and a wave of ice rolled down Icarus’ spine. “And I’m not afraid to continue that legacy.” 

     “Morgan!” 

     “I said I would keep it non-explicit, not non-threatening.” 

     “ That’s non-explicit?” 

     “It’s what you get. Take it or leave it.” 

     Centross groaned. “I’m sorry, Ic, I told her not to….”

     “It’s fine!” It wasn’t fine. Icarus was terrified. The woman had just threatened to kill them, and she seemed a bit too genuine about it. “I’m…a bit concerned about the family of murderers part, but…fair enough, I guess?” 

     “Oh yeah, that’s the part I wasn’t gonna tell you.” 

     Icarus’ head snapped to look at Dio in mild shock and horror at the same time that Morgan did the same to glare at them. 

     “What?” they both said in unison. Dio put their hands up. 

     “I didn’t say much! The topic of family drama came up, and I mentioned that we’re affair babies, that’s it. I left out the gory stuff. Besides, you’re the one who just came out with it in your little ‘shovel talk’ just now!” 

     Morgan let out a small noise of anger, Centross’ arm tensed around Icarus shoulders, and Mei picked up her cider and sipped it, watching the scene like a soap opera playing out on television. 

     “Centross,” Morgan smiled, but it wasn’t a joyful smile. It was fake, seething and full of teeth. “You better not have invited a snitch into this family.” 

     Icarus waited for him to reply, to say something, to defend them, but…he didn’t. When they looked at him, he was looking at them , asking, ‘Are you?’  

     Were they? 

     Icarus had a sneaking suspicion they were about to be let in on a really, really bad secret. The inclusion of the words “murder” and “snitch” made them worry this was something that might be better told to the police , but doing so would most certainly ruin any chance they had at having a place here. Morgan, the most hostile entity they’d come across yet, had still referred to them as family . Frank had told them ‘Welcome Home.’ Judi had hugged them and fed them. Centross had held them all night, had kissed them in front of the people whose opinions he cared about most. 

     Icarus’ family was broken. They’d made it their entire life’s mission to fix it, and they would , but in the meantime-

     They would really, really like to be a part of Centross’ family. And if that meant harboring whatever dark, twisted secrets that family held, well. It wasn’t like they didn’t have practice. 

     “No,” Icarus insisted, looking back at Morgan and shaking their head firmly. “I’m not.” 

     She studied them, and this time, they forced down the urge to squirm and held her gaze. Finally, she nodded. 

     “Alright, then.” 

 

 

     Morgan sat down on the other end of Mei’s couch, and began her story. 

     “About forty years ago, Cirteus Ordall met Rhia Callas at a formal dinner. Over the next six years, they would have three children. Asariel, Phineas, and Vydia. Their marriage was testy at best, the two comin’ from vastly different backgrounds and never seeing eye-to-eye on anythin’, includin’ parenting style. Cirteus was demandin’ and authoritarian, while Rhia was dismissive and cold. Five years after their daughter’s birth, Cirteus was out drinkin’ and met someone : Isyn Hollis, wide-eyed and naive, celebratin’ their twentieth birthday with a group of friends. Less-than-ideal friends, apparently, as none of them did anythin’ to stop this thirty-year-old man from buying Isyn a drink and chattin’ them up. He was charismatic, and they were sheltered. Over the next few months, the two would meet many times, Cirteus claimin’ that his wife not only knew about the dates but approved of them. A total fabrication, of course. But Isyn bought it, and gushed about the man that’d taken such an interest in them to their sister, Quinn. Quinn was suspicious of Cirteus from the beginnin’, being not just three years older, but significantly wiser than her younger siblin’. But Isyn seemed happy, so she kept quiet. 

     “A year passed. Rhia was convinced Cirteus was cheatin’ on her, and Cirteus was gettin’ real sick of her attempts to ‘meddle in his private affairs’ in turn. So he came clean, admitted to the affair, and offered her a deal: divorce him quietly, acceptin’ the entire thing, and he’d set her up for life somewhere nice, to live out the rest of her days in luxury away from him, his new partner, and the children she never truly wanted in the first place. Rhia refused. She threatened to take Cirteus to court, determined to take as much as she could from him before divorcin’ him. So Cirteus took everything from her, instead, murderin’ her in her sleep. He disposed of her body secretly, and was home before the children woke up. 

     “Asariel, Phineas, and Vydia awoke to their mother and her belongings missin’ from the house, and Cirteus told them she’d left. Her children didn’t think twice about it. She’d never truly cared about them. Just weeks later, Cirteus introduced them to their new step-parent, Isyn. Three months after Rhia’s murder, they were married. Nine months later, Isyn gave birth to twins. 

     “As the twins grew, Cirteus grew suspicious. One of them was clearly identifiable as his, but the other shared so little resemblance with any of their siblin’s. He confronted Isyn about it time and time again, but every time, they insisted that it was impossible, the children were twins . They must both be his. It wasn’t until their third child was born, a little girl, that Cirteus could no longer be convinced. Only a week after the birth, on the twins’ eleventh birthday, Cirteus interrupted the party and demanded a paternity test in front of all the guests. Isyn was still recoverin’ from a particularly harrowin’ birth, and didn’t have the energy to deny him any longer. The results came in five days later, and they were just what Cirteus had feared: only one of the twins was his. Isyn had been unfaithful to him, and in their womb, two eggs were fertilized by two separate sires, one being Isyn’s former partner, who she’d never truly broken up with throughout the length of their courtin’. The night before their weddin’, they said goodbye to their partner with one last night together, sealin’ their fate. 

     “The night the results came in, the Cirteus and Isyn got in a vicious fight, and Cirteus showed his true colors. Isyn barely managed to make the call before their phone was knocked out of their hand, but the damage was done. Their sister heard everything. Hell hath no fury like an older sister scorned, and she ran to her siblin’s side - but was too late. She found her siblin’ lyin’ on the floor, strangled to death at Cirteus’ hands. There was no question as to what she needed to do. She killed him, then and there. 

     “But her actions didn’t go unwitnessed, for when she turned around, standin’ in the doorway was Cirteus’ eldest son, twenty-four-year-old Asariel, who had seen the whole thing. No one knows what Quinn said to him that night, but whatever it was, it was enough to make him flee the property and never return. To this day, he runs the family business from afar, though he can never find it in himself to stay in one place for long, always movin’, never tellin’ anyone where he’s goin’, too terrified for his life to ever report the murder to the authorities. In fact, no one did. Cirteus’ body was quietly buried off in the farthest corner of the property, and they all just…moved on. Glad to have the monster out of their lives. 

     “Asariel cut himself off from the rest of his family save for Phineas, though to be fair, save for Phinease, they all cut him out equally. Vydia packed her bags and moved across the country with her boyfriend just days after the murder, which left Phineas and his fiancée to raise the twins and their baby sister. She tried to help, tried to support him and the kids, but it eventually became too much. She left him about a year later. 

     “And that’s our story,” Morgan finished. “As fucked up as it is. That’s us.” 

     The silence that followed rang like a gunshot, the whole room plunged into sudden stillness. Icarus, the only one hearing the story for the first time, sat in horror, as the others watched for their reaction. Centross rubbed a hand down their arm. 

     Their cider had gone cold. 

     “Ic?” Centross’ voice sounded distant. They didn’t know what to say. Thoughts swirled through their mind, and yet none of them made sense. 

     “...wow.” 

     The single word seemed to shatter the tension. Or maybe it wasn’t the word, but rather Dio’s sudden ringing laughter in response to it. 

     “Yeah, that sounds about right!” they wheezed. “I swear, you make it sound more dramatic every time, Gana. But yeah. That’s the big ‘Ordall Family Mystery.’ We’d be on so many true crime podcasts if anybody’d actually called the cops.” 

     “True crime squad!” Mei cheered. Next to them, Icarus could’ve sworn Centross flinched, but they were a bit too distracted to actually pay attention. 

     “...yeah,” they nodded slowly, eyes wide, still trying to process the bombshell of information dropped on them. “and I thought my family had issues.” 

     “I mean, what family doesn’t?” Dio tossed their now empty, crushed Dr. Pepper can across the room in an attempt to get it into the recycle bin. They missed. “Everybody’s family’s a little messy, just to varying degrees.” 

     “Ours just happens to be the temperature of the sun.” Morgan muttered. 

     That was…an understatement. 

     “Wait, so Quinn’s still out there, then?”  

     “As far as we know, yes.” Morgan answered. “We don’t know where, and she’s made a point not to come back. It’s too dangerous to be associated with us, now. But she’s not cut off, she’s still family. And every once in a while we’ll get a letter from a random business’ address and a fake name, just to tell us she’s alive. And so far that’s been enough for us.” 

     Mei made a small noise of discontent. “I hope I get to meet Auntie Q someday. She’s so cool .” 

     “ Cool ?” Icarus repeated.. Morgan looked at them like they were an idiot. 

     “Yeah, cool. She offed her siblin’s abuser and murderer and got away with it, and scared his mini-me into leavin’ the rest of us alone. That’s pretty ‘cool’ to me.” 

     Icarus’ brain felt like it was about to overheat. “...right. Asariel’s the asshole. The one…” they looked up at Centross. “The one you mentioned yesterday?” He nodded.

     “Asariel took after his father,” Centross explained quietly. “In all the wrong ways.” Dio snorted.

     “I don’t think there was a right way to take after that man. We’re lucky he ended up a coward, or we’d never’ve escaped him. Motherfucker even had his face- ”

     “I think,” Centross cut them off, his voice suddenly strained. “that we’ve explained it enough. Let’s move on.” 

     Icarus recognized the attempt to divert the conversation, but the damage was done. Their heart sunk into their stomach feeling like a block of ice. 

     “You…” they swallowed hard. “You don’t talk to Asariel anymore?” 

     “Ic….” 

     “No.” Morgan ignored Centross. “We don’t. We went no-contact with him as soon as he left. Only Phineas has any communication with him anymore, and it’s all business related. And he wouldn’t even do that if he didn’t have to.” 

     The parallels couldn’t have smacked Icarus in the face harder if they’d tried . They hardly noticed as their hands began to shake around their cold mug of cider, until a large, warm hand settled over their own. 

     “Enough.” Centross’ voice cut through the space, commanding. It was his captain’s voice, and Icarus felt their body react on instinct, settling immediately, their attention diverted from their rising dread to his words. “We need to move on.” 

     He pried the mug from Icarus’ hands, leaning forward to setting it down on the coffee table before gathering their hands up in one of his, holding them firmly in their lap. His other arm still draped around their back, but it shifted, the weight of it pressing down more on their shoulders than the back of the sofa - heavy, solid, grounding weight. The Ordall twins exchanged glances, silent communication passing between them. They seemed to be having an entire conversation wordlessly, only the smallest changes in expression relaying any of it, and not in any way that was comprehensible to an outsider. 

     Before they could come to an agreement, though, Mei spoke up. 

     “Centross, guess what?” 

     The captain’s commanding demeanor slipped a little bit. “What?” 

     “I started a new Fiddle book! I’m level three now!” 

     The atmosphere steadily got lighter after that, Mei’s introjection giving the group an easy segue into friendlier territory, though Icarus still couldn’t help the swirling emotions banging around their skull. But the blanket was soft, and Centross was warm, and Morgan was offering to grab snacks from the kitchen. 

     As Dio and Centross once again fell into playful bickering, they shoved the door closed on the negativity in their mind, and snuggled ever closer to Centross. 

     Everything was fine.  

 

 

     Somewhere deep in their subconscious, the glass began to crack.

Notes:

...well that was heavy. I'm sure this won't have lasting affects on Icarus and their ongoing inner moral dilemmas!

The Ordall Family Mystery has been revealed! Shoutout to Pinterest Board Anon on Tumblr, you got super close, actually. I'm impressed.
Also to everyone worrying that Dio was trying to steal Icarus - y'all need a new theory, now. :)

 

As always, Pinterest boards
And Spotify Character Playlists

 

And come scream at me on Tumblr! I live for hearing what y'all think!

Chapter 5: Listen and Learn

Summary:

A series of lessons in life, family, flirting, and....*other* topics.

Notes:

Chapter 5! This is an emotional rollercoaster of a chapter. Enjoy the sillies while you can, the next one is gonna be a *lot*. Enjoy! :D

TWS: mentioned abuse, family dysfunction, and trauma. explicit conversations about sex.

     Icarus was having the time of their life at the Jacksons’. It was only their third full day on the farm, and already they were questioning why they’d never taken a solo vacation before (and subconsciously knowing exactly why. ) They’d spent Monday with the Ordalls, getting to know Centross’ inner circle, and Tuesday Centross had taken them on a tour of the town. They’d even stopped by a small bar, where a small group of local teenagers were performing in their cover band. They weren’t half bad, though all of them looked far too young to be in a bar. Not that Icarus could say anything, they’d done far worse. 

     The energy in the place had been unlike anything Icarus had ever experienced before. Everyone had seemed far more occupied talking and catching up than actually drinking, and every time someone had entered half the bar would call out their name in greeting. The bartender, Bodhi, his name was, seemed to have every order memorized. People kept coming up to them, greeting Centross, asking how school was going, asking after his parents, and complimenting the both of them on their football season so far. They’d never shaken hands with so many people in such a short time frame, and that was including the business dinners their father would drag them to. Though Icarus couldn’t help but notice that the vast majority of them referred to him by his relation to Frank and Judi, “Jackson Jr,” “Frank’s/Judi’s boy,” or simply “Jackson” being the most common. Not a single “Mistvale,” and barely a “Centross.” Yet another clue that Icarus knew far less about the man they’d brought into their bed more times than they could count. 

     The night had finished in a cornfield, sitting on a blanket spread out in the bed of Centross’ truck, passing a bottle of whiskey between them under the stars. 

     “Where’d you get that?” Icarus had asked when he’d pulled the bottle out of his coat. Centross had smirked as he unscrewed the top. 

     “Bodhi,” he’d said as an explanation and taken a swig, clearing up literally nothing. And he’d say no more about it for the rest of the night. 

     Icarus had never had sex in a truck bed in a cornfield before, but they’d do it again.  

     Which led to Wednesday morning, Icarus staring at themself in the mirror after washing the sleep and remnants of breakfast off of their face. Adjusting their flannel, they jogged down the steps. Centross entered from the porch just as they reached the bottom, and they barely had enough time to smile at him before he was on top of them, pressing a kiss to their lips. 

     “Hey,” they breathed when he pulled away. 

     “Hey.” Centross brushed their hair out of their face. “Got a text from Gana, they want to meet up again today. That alright?” 

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” It was at that moment that Icarus noticed they were not alone, when the sound of a pot clanging came from the kitchen. Sure enough, Judi was still there, standing over the sink, looking at them. 

     “Hold your horses, boys, before y’all go anywhere. David, your father needs your help in the garage. And Icarus, why don’t you help me with these, first?” 

     Icarus watched as Centross opened his mouth to respond, moved to let them go, but froze before the words could come out. His mouth snapped shut, and he looked down at them, a lingering, meaningful look, the intended question clear as day. 

     “ Do you want me to stay?”  

     And they knew. They knew he would talk back, he would protest, he would disobey the second they said the word. All the respect in the world for his mother would mean nothing if Icarus wanted him there. But they couldn’t do that. They couldn’t put him in that position, get him in trouble like that. The last thing they wanted to do was open a rift in the first family they’d ever seen that, as far as they could tell, didn’t already have one. 

     They lifted a hand to his chest and softly pushed him away. 

     “Go.” 

     He studied them for a moment, then pushed back through their stiffened arm to drop a light peck to their forehead.

     “If you need anything, ” he began, but didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Icarus understood. 

     He disappeared out the front door again, and Icarus stood awkwardly by the stairs. 

     “Well? Come on over!” Judi beckoned to them. They tried to push down their nerves as they joined her by the sink, though they were half worried she’d be able to hear their heart beating in their chest even from across the house. 

     Pausing in her dish washing, Judi turned around and leaned back against the counter. “You have a question, Darlin’. I can see it on your face.” And she wasn’t wrong, not in the slightest. In fact, they had an increasingly pressing question that had been brewing since the day they’d arrived. They supposed there was no better time to ask. 

     “I guess I’m just wondering why you call Centross “David” sometimes? Is that…I mean, I thought his name was Centross, but then Morgan said it too, and…I’m confused?” 

     Judi gave them a soft smile. “It’s for the same reason sometimes he calls me ‘Judi,’ and other times calls me ‘Mom.’ Or how he sometimes calls his father ‘Frank’ and sometimes ‘Dad.’ When he first came to live with us, he was David. Somewhere down the line, he decided to go by his middle name. And he lets us call him either, as his family. Just like how he called us by our first names in the beginnin’, and when he officially became ours, he added ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad.’ And now he uses both.” 

     “..right…so…Centross is his middle name, and his name is actually David?” 

     “His name is whatever he tells you to call him.” Judi’s voice turned a bit firm at that. “If he introduced himself as Centross to you, then that’s what you call him.”

     “Right, no, yeah.” They backpedaled a little bit. “I wouldn’t- I know. I was just wondering.” 

     Judi took a small breath. “I know, Darlin’. I’m just….” her sentence trailed off, and in liu of finishing it, she pulled the dish towel off of her shoulder and held it out. “Here, I’ll wash and you dry ‘em off. Don’t worry about puttin’ them away, just stack ‘em over there and I’ll do it after.” 

     With that, she pulled her floral-patterned dish gloves more securely onto her arms and started on another plate. Icarus stood silently, partially out of embarrassment, partially out of anxiety, and partially due to pondering the information they’d just received. Once Judi had rinsed off the dish and handed it over, she spoke again. 

     “Now I’m gonna tell you a story, Icarus, and I want you to listen.” The firm tone was back, and Icarus subconsciously straightened a bit. “I was nineteen years old when I met my husband. I’d been waitressin’ full time and rentin’ a room in a drafty ol’ apartment buildin’ for two years. When one night I made a bit of extra money on tips, and figured I’d treat myself. Stopped by the soda shop for a milkshake, when I was approached by a young man with jeans so starched they practically creaked when he walked. He was respectful, told me he thought my dress was ‘awful pretty’ and asked me where I’d gotten it. I had to tell him I’d bought it at a second-hand shop and didn’t know who the maker was. It wasn’t the conversation I was expectin’ at all. But he thanked me anyway, told me my dress suited me nicely, and asked my name. I told him right then and there that I wasn’t lookin’ for a man, and not to waste his time. My father was a horrid man, you see. And I was sure my luck would be no better than my mother’s. But to my surprise, he apologized and backed right off!

     “I suppose I shoulda known better than to think that was the end of it, but then again, I could’ve never guessed what he’d do. You wanna know what he did? He went home and told his mama ‘bout the girl he’d met in the soda shop. He must’ve made some observation ‘bout my shoes bein’ worn or my face lookin’ tired, cause wouldn’t you know it but a month later, I was back at that soda shop with my tip money, and a lady approached me. See I was wearin’ a dress I’d found torn-up in a pawn-shop dumpster and patched up myself, and she complimented my work. She introduced herself to me as Mrs. Adelaide Jackson. She asked me if I knit, and I told her no, I hardly had the money for yarn, and would you believe it, she invited me to her ladies yarn club! Insisted I go, that the yarn and needles would be provided for me, and that if I could sew up a dress like that I’d have a fine time knittin’, and that she thought I’d really enjoy it. Now, I was fresh out of a horribly toxic household, Icarus, and I had nobody. Not a soul in the world. So when she asked the kid behind the counter for a pen and wrote the address down on a napkin, I took it. 

     “That next Sunday afternoon, I was standin’ on the front steps of the nicest house I’d ever saw, in the nicest dress I owned. I felt awful showin’ up without at least some cookies, but I’d spent all my ‘fun money’ for the month on milkshakes. Still, Mrs. Adelaide invited me in, introduced me to the other ladies, all of whom were at least a decade older than me, and who accepted me into their fold with open arms. I found myself quite adept at knittin’, and enjoyed myself. 

     “It was about an hour in that Franklin came home, the mystery man from the soda shop, and I began to panic. But Frank just greeted me politely along with the rest of the ladies, complimented our projects, and left us well alone. Hardly said a word to me! I asked Mrs. Adelaide about him, and she told me she had four boys, and he was her youngest: Franklin Harvey Jackson. It was then that I began to suspect he’d had somethin’ to do with her findin’ me that day. But when I left, I found I didn’t mind much - I’d had a lovely time, and made a few new friends, somethin’ that wasn’t to be taken for granted in my situation. So, the next week, I was back at the yarn club. And the week after that, and the week after that.

     “One week, I fell ill, and couldn’t go. The following Sunday, Mrs. Adelaide was fussin’ over me the minute I arrived, askin’ if I was ok, what had happened. I told her I’d taken ill, but that I was alright now, and she told me if she’d known she’d’ve brought me some soup! Before I left that day she insisted I have her number. ‘Just in case you need anythin’, she’d told me. That was the beginnin’ of it all. Every week after that, she’d ask me the same questions. ‘Are you eatin’ enough?’ ‘Do you have enough bus money?’ ‘Your landlord isn’t botherin’ you again, is he?’ One time, I answered that last question honestly - he’d been threatenin’ to raise my rent when he hadn’t even fixed the boiler yet, in the middle of winter no less - and she took the bus home with me to march up to his door herself and threaten’ him with legal action if he didn’ start treatin’ me better. I’d never had someone stand up for me like that. After learnin’ to lie low as a child, I hardly had the guts to speak up for myself, but Mrs. Adelaide showed me how. And that man never tried anythin’ like that again.

     “While the heater was bein’ repaired, Mrs. Adelaide insisted I stay with her family so I could be warm. I was nervous, of course. That house was full of men and I didn’t trust it. But I trusted Mrs. Adelaide, and I didn’t want to spend another night in that freezin’ cold apartment, so I took her offer. And I’ll tell you what, her boys were the sweetest, kindest people I ever met. Her husband treated me like one of his own, and one of Frank’s middle brothers, whose room was in the basement, where the guest room was, moved up with one of the other boys so I could have the whole basement to myself, just for privacy! I was floored! 

     “After that experience, even after the boiler was fixed, I found myself spendin’ more and more time at the Jackson house. They treated me like family. They invited me over for dinner, took me to the fair with them, let me stay over anytime I wanted. Once when the bus I took to work broke down, I called the house from a payphone, not knowin’ what else to do. Frank’s oldest brother picked me up in his truck and drove me to work, and Frank picked me up afterwards and drove me home.

     I began to see Frank in a new light, spendin’ so much time with him and his family. He hadn’t tried again since that day in the soda shop, and had given me as wide a berth as he could while still welcomin’ me. A year later, I’d completely fallen for him. Tried sendin’ him all sorts of signals, and I thought him the most oblivious man on earth when he didn’t get any of ‘em! He’s since told me, though, that he just didn’t want to push me, just in case. Either way, I eventually told him right to his face that I was interested, and that I’d like to date him if he would have me. We’ve been married forty years, now. Just celebrated our fortieth. And his family has been my biggest supporters this whole time. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found that family. My family. The family that I wanted. And the family that wanted me. ” 

     Just as Judi finished, she passed the last dish over to Icarus, who took it with trembling hands. The words echoed in their skull, like they’d just been screamed off a cliff at them as they free-fell through the air. Any second now they would hit the bottom. They didn’t want to - they knew how much it would hurt. 

     But they couldn’t ignore the wind rushing past their ears. It was deafening. 

     “I want to make this perfectly clear, Icarus.” Judi set down her sponge and turned to face Icarus, looking them dead in the eyes. They recognized the fire there; it was the same intensity they’d see in Centross’ whenever he spoke about something he was passionate about, about something that mattered to him deeply. “I’ve heard many things about you over the years. Most of it has been less than savory. And when my David told me he was bringin’ you home, I had my reservations. But I know a thing or two about a thing or two, one of those things bein’ your father and the kind of man he is, and the other bein’ how to recognize someone cut from my own cloth. And you can deny that all you want, but I can see that you need a safe place just as much as I did. And I want us to be that for you. No one should ever feel trapped in a house they ain’t safe in because they feel they have nowhere to go. I want you to feel safe here, to have a family to support you and push you to be your best self. So as long as you are willin’ to try to put in the work to unlearn the bullshit you’ve been taught, you have a home with us. Am I understood?” 

     Icarus had to turn their face away, to hide the tears welling up without permission. Every word she spoke felt like a red-hot iron stabbing them in the chest. Their eyes stung, their throat felt tight, and they felt an equal desire to run as they did to collapse . The two sides of them that had been at war this whole time rose in bloody fury, clawing at them, tearing into them in desperation. Guilt and pride. Relief and fear. Desire and bitterness. The war waged on in their chest, when a single question popped into their head, silencing it all in a moment and chilling their blood in a flash. Their lips moved before they could think. 

     “Did you have siblings?” They asked. They vaguely registered how robotic and monotone their voice was. Judi took a long moment to answer. 

     “Yes. I had a little sister and a little brother.”

     “Did you bring them with you? To the Jacksons?” They could feel her studying them, even turned away. 

     “...no. I left them behind. I left that house as soon as I could. I wanted to forget it’d ever happened. I thought seeing them would bring it all back. By the time I’d had the sense to try and reconnect with them, it was too late. They were bitter. They never forgave me for abandonin’ them. I haven’t heard from either of them since.” 

     Icarus stared down at the kitchen tile, already dreading the question they knew was coming. 

     “Are you askin’ because you have siblin’s, Icarus?” 

     They didn’t want to answer. Gods, they didn’t want to answer. They didn’t want to acknowledge the guilt, the shame. They didn’t want to think about what leaving would mean, what taking Rae with them would mean. 

     If Rae would even want to. After everything they’ve done. 

     “Yeah,” they whispered, hoarsely, through the lump in their throat. “My brother.”

     “Older or younger?” 

     “Younger.”

     “How old?” 

     “Twenty.” 

     “Are you close with him?”

     “Hell no.” It was like a dam had been opened, and the words tumbled out. “I’ve been such a piece of shit to him. He hates me, and he’s right to. It…it might already be too late. I- gods, I fucked up- ” 

     They didn’t hear Judi move, but the next second a soft hand was on their shoulder. 

     “Then you need to act now ,” she urged, “and do whatever you have to do to mend that bond before it’s undeniably too late. Get the both of you out. It’s so much harder to mend a relationship  when you’re both still fighting to survive.” The hand on their shoulder moved to their back and made soothing circles there. “What’s his name?” 

     “....Rae.” 

     “Well then, both you and Rae have a family here if you want it. I’ll tell Centross to give you our number. And you better not hesitate to use it, you hear?” 

     Icarus nodded numbly. It felt like torture, the whole conversation, like they had been without water for years and years and now someone was dangling an ice-cold bottle of it in front of them, just out of reach, just off the edge of a cliff. Enticing them to jump. But if they did, they’d have to trust the string to hold their weight. It was much safer to keep their feet firmly planted on the ground, to keep pretending the cuffs that bound their wrists and ankles and tied them to the earth were still locked, that they didn’t hang loosely and wouldn’t fall at their feet at the slightest movement to shake them off.

     But they were so thirsty . 

     “Alright, well, the dishes are all done, and I think I’ve given you plenty to think about for a while.” Judi gave their back a final rub and stepped back. “Why don’t you go find the boys in the garage? They should be finishin’ up too.” 

     Another dumb nod, and Icarus’ legs were moving and taking them out of the door without much input from their brain. They stepped a little ways away from the house, and collapsed against the wall, a deep breath forcing air into their lungs. They aggressively dried their eyes of tears with the sleeve of their flannel, and swallowed their own saliva until the lump in their throat went away. 

     Until they’d shoved everything back into the recesses of their mind where it belonged.

     The crack in the glass grew wider, and a single bead of water began to collect on the seam.

     Just as they were about to push off the wall and walk to the garage, they heard a whisper. 

     “ Icarus!” 

     Their head shot off the wall and they looked around, eventually spotting a small face peeking out at them from behind the house. It took a few seconds for them to register it as Mei Ordall, the youngest of the neighbors. “Psssst!” she whispered again, waving a beckoning hand at them. “Icarus, over here!” 

     Looking around again, there was no one else in sight. The garage door was open, and they could hear Frank’s radio playing - there was no way they’d hear Mei over it, no matter how aggressively she whispered. 

     Running a hand down their face quickly to dispel any last traces of distress, they spedwalked over to where the teenager hid, a noise of surprise leaving them when she grabbed their arms and pulled them further behind the house with her. 

     “Woah, ok, hey, what?” They brushed her hands off of them. “What’s wrong?” 

     “I need help.” 

     Icarus blinked. “...you need help. With what?”  

     “Ok, well-” Mei looked nervous . So far, the only emotions they’d seen on the teen was excitement, happiness, and the occasional petulance aimed at Morgan or Centross when they chided her for something. But her anxiety was palpable. “Ok. So. I need advice. And you’re supposed to be good at this stuff. So.” She took a deep breath. “You know the dance? On Friday? That Gana and Dio and Centross were talkin’ about?” 

     They did, actually. It was one of those things that had come up on Monday while chatting on the porch. Icarus nodded slowly. “The line-dance-barn-thing, yeah. Why?” 

     “Ok, so, there’s someone who’s probably-definitely-most-likely gonna show up, and…how do you do the flirtin’ thing?” 

     … What??  

     “I- excuse me?” Icarus laughed a little in disbelief. “You’re…asking me. How to flirt. I- what-” 

     “Look, I’ve overheard Cen and Dio talkin’ about you for years now, and Cen said you’re good at this stuff.” 

     “This…you know, this feels distinctly like a Dio question, actually. Why aren’t you asking them?” 

     “Dio doesn’t do romance.” Mei actually pouted as she said this. “They do sex, but they don't do romance. And Morgan doesn’t do either.” 

     “And you can’t ask Centross?” 

     “I think he’d just scare her away~” Mei slumped against the side of the house. “You know those songs about comin’ home from a date and your daddy’s in a lawn chair with a shotgun? He has that energy. And that’s why he can’t know about this. None of them can know about this!” In a second, Mei was off the wall and in their face, waving a single finger at them. “You can’t say anythin’! They’ll freak out, cause they’re all protective and this is my first-”

     Before she could finish the sentence, she seemed to realize what she was admitting and fell silent, her face going bright red. Unfortunately for her, Icarus caught on immediately .

     “Is this your first crush?” A sly grin spread across their face as Mei mumbled out excuses. “This is your first - you’re fourteen , and -”

     “I know~” Mei whined, hiding her face in her hands. Icarus laughed. It was wild, how quickly their mood had shifted, all thoughts of the conversation they’d just had pushed aside to make room for the absurdity of the situation in front of them. 

     Though, they couldn’t deny they were intrigued. 

     They were trying to get into Centross’ family’s good graces. And Mei was a part of that family.  

     And they did consider themself a bit of an expert when it came to flirting. 

     “Alright,” they said. “I’ll help.”  

     Mei’s face shot up from her hands. “Really??” 

     “Sure, why not.” Icarus shrugged and let themself fall back against the wall again. “So tell me about…her. You said her, right?” 

     “Mhm! She uses she/they pronouns. And her name is Parker.” 

     “Parker,” Icarus repeated. “Right. Tell me about Parker, then. What’s she like? What do you know about them?” 

     “Oh, they’re so cool !” Mei practically lit up the second she started talking. “She plays guitar, that’s actually how we met - I mean, technically we met in school, we’re in a lot of the same classes, but, like, that’s how we met met. We take lessons at the same place, and we talked while waitin’ on our instructors to finish up with other students. Anyway. And I love her style, and their hair is like purple , and she’s just so confident , and she’s in a band , that like, actually performs and stuff, and she’s so nice , she’s always so good at comin’ up with, like, super specific compliments for people, and she can drive -” She had to pause to catch her breath, and Icarus snickered. 

     “Oh, you have it bad , huh?” 

     “....yeah.” Mei’s face fell, and she looked up at Icarus with pure desperation. “What do I do? ” 

     Icarus barely had to think. “Well, you already have an in. You’re not just walking up to someone you’ve never even talked to, you have interacted with her before. So she knows you. Use that.” 

     “But how ?” 

     “Ok.” Icarus shifted on the wall, bringing their hands up to act as visual demonstrations. “Start with, like, basic conversation starters. ‘Hey, it’s good to see you, how’ve you been? How’s the band? How’s guitar going?’, stuff like that. Ask them questions, get them talking about themself. Be interested in what she’s saying. Ask follow-up questions. Reference things they’ve said later in the conversation, it shows you were paying attention. While she is talking , play with it. Just a little, be subtle. Also, eye contact . When she is talking, look at them . But not too much. Don’t stare into her soul or whatever. But when she’s talking, you’re looking. Your attention is on her. When you’re talking, you can look away, maybe at the floor, maybe around the room, just a bit, just be casual about it. Remember to smile , be pleasant, you want to be enjoyable to be around and to talk to. Most importantly, though, is confidence. Know what you want and go for it, but don’t try and hide all those nerves, ok? A little bit of nerves is actually good. It’s natural to be a little nervous when you’re talking to someone you’re interested in. So utilize that . An easy way to do this, is to play with your necklace a bit. Wear a necklace. It’s two-birds-one-stone. It’s inherently flirty, don’t ask me why, it’s complicated, and also, it’s fidgeting, it’s a little bit of tasteful nerves. Also a good way to deal with your actual nerves . Cause you do actually like this person.” Which makes trying to flirt hit a little bit different. Icarus would know. They’d been hitting that wall frequently as of late. “And if, at any point, you see her getting distracted, or looking like she’s gonna walk away, ask them to dance . In fact, if they don’t ask after, like, a few songs into the conversation, ask her yourself. You don’t have to wait to be asked. Chin up, know what you want, and go after it. That’s how you make an impression.” 

     Mei stared them down the entire time they were time, eyes wide and shining, and they could see her taking mental notes of every point they made.

     “Ok ok ok, so, ask questions, eye contact, necklace, ask to dance if she doesn’t, know what I want, be confident, but be a little nervous too.” She counted the advice off on her fingers, and looked up at them. “Did I get it?” 

     “Nailed it.” Icarus raised their hand for a high-five, which Mei solidly met with a squeal of excitement. 

     “Ok! Ok, I can do this. I can do this! I got this!” 

     “Sure you do.” And they meant that. “And listen, just because you’re interested in her doesn’t mean you have to pursue that no matter what. If it turns out you don’t fit together, then you don’t fit. Don’t force it, you’ll just end up unhappy. And hey, you are a gift to be around, kid. If she’s not delighted to even be talking to you, go find better. You deserve it.” 

     Icarus was only partially blindsided by the hug. They laughed as she pulled away, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and they couldn’t help but envy the young, naive glimmer of excitement and hope in her eyes. 

     They couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen that in the mirror. 

     “Thank you! I can’t wait now!”

     “Can’t wait for what?” 

     Leaning to the side to see around Mei, Icarus could see Centross approaching. Mei immediately spun around, and they watched the blood drain from her face. 

     “Uh- I’m just- um-” Centross raised an eyebrow. 

     “You’re not botherin’ them, are you?” 

     “No!” 

     “Are you lyin’ to me?” 

     “She’s not bothering me.” Icarus piped up, seeing their opportunity. They pushed off the wall to stand at Mei’s side. “We were just talkin’ about things to do this week.” They gently bumped shoulders with her. “We’ll have to see what we can fit in. Anyway, you should be getting home. We’ll be over in a sec.” 

     Mei relaxed and beamed up at them. “Yeah, ok! Bye!” And with that, she took off across the property.

     Centross shook his head and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around their waist. 

     “‘Things to do this week,’ huh?” he murmured. “You gonna tell me what that was actually about?” 

     “Hmmm,” they pretended to think as they wound their own arms around his neck. “I think I’d like your sister to continue to like me, so, no.” When Centross sighed, they leaned up and gave him a quick kiss. “No one’s in danger, nothing’s unsafe. Let her have this.” 

     Centross looked displeased with the idea, but relented. “C’mon, let’s head over.” Hand in hand, they came out from behind the house. 

     “Are we taking the motorcycle again?” 

     “If you would like.” 

     “ Absolutely I would.” 

     This time, pulling up the Ordalls’ unreasonably long driveway, there wasn’t an angry welcoming committee waiting for them. Centross helped Icarus out of their helmet (which was entirely unnecessary, but they weren’t about to stop him ,) and led the way around the back of the house.

     Icarus was mildly relieved not to go back in the house, though they couldn’t put their finger on why. 

     The house itself sat on top of a bit of a hill that dropped off much more sharply around the back than the gradual incline at the front. The back of the hill was inlaid with a few small flights of cracked stone steps, arranged in a sort of zig-zag that could’ve been equal parts artful and haphazard in their placement. The neighbor trio had congregated at the bottom of this hill under a large tree - Morgan and Dio sitting on a large blanket (though ‘sprawled’ might have been a more apt description of the state Dio was in), and Mei lightly swinging from the tire swing suspended from a branch overhead. The three’s shoes had all been discarded and thrown in a pile at the base of the tree.

     Mei, of course, squealed and waved at them as they approached, to which obviously Icarus waved back. 

     “‘S about time,” Morgan drawled, grabbing her boots from the pile and pulling them back on, pushing herself back up off the blanket. “Shoes off if you want on the blanket.” 

     Centross made a face. “Since when was that a rule?” 

     “Since I said so. You standin’ around or what?” 

     Centross spent a few seconds longer protesting the rule, but Morgan didn’t budge. Icarus had only been around for three days, and even they knew once Morgan came to a conclusion, she didn’t back down. So it was only a matter of time before he was pulling off his boots and dropping down onto the blanket with a huff. 

     Icarus went to do the same, but Dio raised a hand to stop them. “Hold on there, Sweetheart. Unless you wanna be dancin’ in your socks, I’d suggest you keep those on.” 

     “Dancing?” 

     “Well, I’m guessin’ it’s not a big leap to assume you don’t know any line dances.” 

     “Uh…no?” 

     “Then you’re learnin’ today.” Morgan grabbed them by the arm and dragged them a few feet away from the blanket. “If you’re gonna be in this family, you’re goin’ dancin’ with us on Friday. And you ain’t gonna embarrass us hidin’ on the sidelines.” 

     “What she means ,” Dio had sat up on the blanket by this point, “is that we’re not just gonna throw you in the deep end. It’s much more fun when you actually know the steps, and line dancin’ is supposed to be fun, not stressful.” 

     “That’s what I said.”

     “Sure it was.” 

     Morgan mumbled something under her breath that Icarus couldn’t hear, scrolling through her phone. 

     “I’ll run you through a couple slow, and then we’ll pick it up. You play sports, you’ll be fine.” 

     Line dancing was significantly more difficult than it looked, as quickly Icarus found out. Even as a well-conditioned football player with an extensive gym routine, their calves were on fire after just a few dances. Morgan was a tough teacher. Effective, yes, but getting any sort of praise or acknowledgement of progress out of her was like pulling teeth . Thankfully, Dio, Mei, and Centross more than made up for that, all of them assuring them that they were doing fine. Mei even got up to join them, and Icarus couldn’t deny that they started having much more fun once she did. Her energy was infectious. 

     “Ok, hang on, I need a second,” Icarus finally said after running through three different songs that Dio claimed would probably be played. To their relief, Morgan didn’t fight them on it, and turned off the music. Centross grabbed a bottle of water from Morgan’s snack bag, leaning over across the blanket to hold it out to Icarus, which they immediately grabbed and started chugging. 

     “Hey, slow down, you’re gonna make yourself sick,” he chastised, reaching out to rip the bottle back, but they held it out of reach. “You little- fine, whatever, you know what? Not my problem if you throw up.” Icarus flipped them off, still chugging water.

     “Cennn~ Are Mama Judi and Papa Frank coming?” Mei asked. 

     “Probably not. It does run pretty late, to be fair.” Mei pouted a little. Icarus finished the water bottle and threw the empty plastic at Centross’ head, disappointed when he snatched it out of the air. 

     “So they're like your parents too, then?” 

     “Basically.” Morgan shrugged. “They had already basically adopted us before Cen even got here.” 

     “Ah ah, nope, no.” Dio, once again flopped over, raised an arm up into the air with a single pointed finger. “All y’all are adopted. I’m not. That’d be incest.” 

     Icarus swore they bluescreened. “What?” Their jaw dropped open the same second Centross groaned, 

     “Oh my god….” 

     “Oh, has that not come up yet?” Dio’s grin was one of pure sadistic glee . “Me and Cen’ve been messin’ around since high school !” 

     “Dio I swear to god -” 

     “What, like you didn’t think this wouldn’t come up?” 

     “I will strangle you -” 

     "Aw, you will? Just for me? I’m so lucky~” 

     “Dio,” Morgan cut them off, glaring. “Tone it down.” Dio raised their hands in mock surrender, and promptly got an empty plastic water bottle to the side of their head. Reduce, reuse, recycle, Icarus supposed.

     “Wait, so-” They were not letting the conversation move on that fast. “You two dated?”  

     “Nahhhhh,” Dio waved them off, sitting up. “Nothing that serious. I don’t do relationships. I’m just sayin’, when the neighbor boy’s hot and can match your trauma-freak-”

     The next few seconds were a blur. Centross pushed up to his knees and grabbed Dio by the front of their shirt, wrestling them back to the ground on the opposite side of the blanket; at the same time, Morgan yelled something approximating “Now!” to Mei, who scooped up Centross’ boots and took off across the yard before he could get back up in time to stop her. Letting Dio free, he took off after her, yelling obscenities, and Morgan followed close behind, pushing him and generally trying to slow him down. 

     As the yelling faded off into the distance, Icarus, stunned, watched as Dio pushed themself back up and stretched out their neck, wincing.
“Been a while since he did that. Anyway!” They grinned at Icarus. “So, Icarus, are you a top or a bottom? Please say bottom.” 

     ….

     “ What?” 

     “C’mon, just answer the question, we’re on limited time here.” Icarus rubbed their eyes, staring down at the grass in disbelief. How had everything taking such a turn, so suddenly? “Seriously, Darlin’, I can talk fast but that man’s faster. I can explain after, just answer.” 

     Face beet red, face pressed into their hands, they mumbled, 

     “....bottom….” 

     Dio lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree.

     “Oh, FINALLY! ” They practically fell over they were so elated. “You have no idea the boon you have bestowed upon me this day.” Tucking their legs under them and rolling onto their knees, they patted the blanket aggressively. “Ok, c’mere, I’ve got stuff to tell you.” 

     At this point, Icarus was solidly along for the ride, so they plopped down on the blanket. 

     “What’s going on?” Dio waggled their eyebrows at them, grinning like a maniac.

     “So you know me and Centross’ history now. We’ve bonded over trauma, we’ve had a lot of sex, all that good stuff. Basically , we have this little… game that we play. I know a lot about Centross Mistvale. Specifically what he likes in bed. So anytime he brings a partner, or, sorry, a ‘ lover ,’ home, I like to secretly pass on a bit of that knowledge. Something only I  know. Something that he would know that only I know.” Dio shrugged playfully. “Call me possessive, call me meddlin’, but there’s something extra special about bein’ the reason he gets worked up without even bein’ in the room. Especially when he knows that . I did it with Fen’, first time he came down. Told him how to get that man to absolutely melt . It was delicious. But I haven’t gotten to use the other side of my knowledge, yet. We’re both such violent switches, by the way, it’s wonderful. But , there’s been one thing I’ve been dyin’ to use on him. Or, I guess, not use on him directly, cause I’ve already done that, but blindside him with it with one of his partners. So, Icarus.” Dio inched forward, voice dropping low. “Wanna know how to make that man go feral ?” 

     The pieces were slotting together. Memories flashed through Icarus’ head - the looks Dio and Centross had sent each other over the past three days, the tone of Centross’ voice when he’d said the two of them had a history . The confidence with which Dio discussed Centross’ strength as a romantic partner, and the familiarity they’d spoken of him with in general. The look in Centross’ eyes when he’d warned Icarus against being alone with them. 

     This was the game. It was Dio infiltrating Centross’ sex life with his partners, telling them secrets about him that only they would know, so when those partners tried it out, both Dio and Centross knew exactly who was behind it all. Centross would try to prevent it, try to prevent the snake that was Dio from slithering into his love life, and all the while Dio would lie in wait, striking at just the right moment and watching him struggle.

     By the total, unwavering assuredness in Dio’s eyes, Icarus highly doubted Dio had ever lost. 

     “And he’s ok with this?” They asked. Just to be certain. Dio’s expression softened a bit. 

     “I asked him before y’all got here, and he told me to try my worst. As long as you’re not uncomfortable, we’re all fine.” 

     “I’m not.” And they weren’t. “ Feral , you say?” 

     Dio’s eyes glimmered . “He loses his ever-loving mind for this.” 

     Icarus felt their heart rate pick up. “What is it?” 

     “You ever heard the phrase ‘Wear the hat, ride the cowboy’?”  Icarus shook their head. “Figured. It’s mostly a joke. Supposedly, in ‘cowboy tradition’ or whatever, if you wear a man’s hat, you have to ‘ride him’.” There were a lot of air quotes in the sentence, and Dio snickered. “Like I said, it’s mostly a joke, but for Centross - for some reason he goes crazy for it. Somethin’ about bein’ publicly claimed, his partner publicly broadcastin’ their intentions - I imagine there’s a lot to it, on a psychological level, but I’m tellin’ you: you want that man to fuck you like a wild fuckin’ animal? Friday night, at The Barn. I’ve got DJ connections, I can get you the perfect song, you just give me a sign. You ‘borrow’ his hat from him, put it on, dance for him? That’ll shut his brain right. off. ” 

     Icarus felt more and more of the blood running straight south out of their own brain the longer Dio talked. They blinked heavy and took a deep breath, trying to calm themself, but they couldn’t deny -

     - the mental image was delectable . 

     “It’s totally up to you.” Dio leaned back, sly demeanor gone, slipping back into their normal casualness. “Like I said, gimme a signal and I’ll set you up. Or play it however you want. Or don’t at all. All comes down to what you’re comfortable with. But I’ll tell you, you won’t regret it.” 

     Oh, they seriously doubted they would. Their own mischievous smirk spread over their face, mirroring Dio’s. 

     “I think I like this game.” 

     It was just seconds later that Centross returned to the blanket, boots solidly on his feet, Mei slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and Morgan with the closest thing to a smile Icarus had seen on her yet. Centross (carefully) dropped Mei onto Dio’s lap, and flopped down next to Icarus, not bothering to take his boots off this time. 

     Icarus was quickly pulled back up by Morgan to continue their dance lessons, though as she scrolled through the music again, they saw Dio and Centross staring each other down. Dio winked, and Centross’ ears flushed a vibrant, impressive red as his eyes went wide. Icarus hid a smirk in the sleeve of their flannel. 

     Yes, they definitely enjoyed this game.

Notes:

THE DIO/CENTROSS GAME REVEAL! These two are *gay* (but not in a romantic way)

As always, Pinterest boards
Dio & Centross' board is now available with this chapter's release!
And Spotify Character Playlists

 

And come scream at me on Tumblr! I live for hearing what y'all think!

Chapter 6: Old Wounds

Summary:

Round two, and this time, we're honest.

Notes:

HOO BOY THIS ONE'S SPICY.
please please please read the tags, I updated them. There's a lot. This chapter is by far the most trigger-warning-heavy of any of them. Which is why this fic is now rated explicit. Please be safe.

TWs for general horror stuff, death, blood and injury, torture, cult activity, religious themes and religious horror, body horror, ptsd and flashbacks, human sacrifice, and ritual child abuse.

 

Time for the horrors. :)

     The music playing from Icarus’ phone felt far too upbeat and happy for the mood they’d found themself in. Centross had left to run an errand for Judi, and although he’d offered to bring Icarus along, they’d elected to stay behind. Thankfully, Centross didn't push, because they didn’t know how they would get around explaining that they only wanted to stay back to practice the dances Morgan had sent them, and the one… particular dance Dio had sent them. 

     They’d been practicing for a bit, but had inevitably landed on Centross’ bed, staring up at the ceiling as the tutorial video finished playing on their phone across the room and the screen shut off. 

     They couldn’t get their talk with Judi out of their head. 

     As much as they’d tried to forget about it, to keep themself busy, it just kept invading their thoughts. The momentary distraction from Mei and the others had helped, and they’d successfully drowned the noise temporarily in s’mores over the bonfire Frank had built them all. And how could their mind be anything but fluffy mush when Centross was holding them so gently, whispering reassurances to them as they drifted off to sleep? But like a carbonated drink shaken, they couldn’t stay capped for long. 

     They could feel the glass cracking, now, their fragile image of reality bending under the weight of the overwhelming tide of the truth they had ignored for too long. It was bleeding through, and it was sharp, cutting their fingers as they desperately tried to plug up the holes. 

     Years of memories played like vivid nightmares in their head. Twelve years old, ripping up Rae’s notebook. Telling him to go ‘ruin someone else’s family.’ Thirteen years old, looking over the edge of their tree house as Rae fought to climb the rope ladder, laughing as they took hold of the top rung and shook , watching in rising horror as his grip slipped and the echoing crack that followed. Calling out to his motionless body on the leaf-strewn ground. The pain they knew still haunted the man even years later. Fourteen years old and telling their father that Rae’d been sneaking out, convincing themself the slap and the sobbing audible from the other room was justified. 

     Convincing themself every time that it was justified. 

     Their own cheek stung tenfold remembering every time they’d ever raised their own hand against their half…their brother. Their brother . 

     Rae was their brother. Just like Dio was Morgan and Mei’s sibling. Dio was only a half-sibling to Morgan and Mei, too. And they were okay with that. They were family. And even when they bickered, they loved each other. 

     …did Icarus love Rae? 

     When Mom was pregnant, maybe. She would tell them about their little sibling, what that would mean, how they needed to protect them and look after them. They’d been so excited. They’d be such a good older sibling, they promised! 

     They promised.

     But then everything changed. 

     From the moment Rae was born, Icarus was told what he was. A bastard. A mistake. A blight, a parasite, a stain. They hadn’t loved him, then.  

     Those few years they’d lived with Mom, it had been…better? Rae had been annoying and clingy but…maybe they had loved him. At least until their father had returned. 

     Things were always different when their father was gone. 

     (Better.)

     As soon as the word entered their mind they shook their head violently to get it out. That was too much. Too far. They needed to stop, before the glass shattered completely. They needed a distraction. 

     Like a gift from the gods, across the room, their phone buzzed. They peeled themself off the bed and half walked, half leaned over to the desk, picking it up. For some reason, probably because they’d just been thinking about him, they wondered if it might be Rae. They hadn’t heard from him since the last time he’d called. And while normally Icarus would’ve been relieved to be left alone, especially on a trip like this, they couldn’t help but worry that Rae knew more than he’d let on. Icarus was supposed to be at school, in the lab, working. Which meant that it would’ve been the perfect time for Rae to send them experiments to run, suggestions, ideas, notes. They’d heard nothing. Not an email, not even a text. Their ha… brother had gone radio silent. 

     And he’d sounded so cold .

     “It might already be too late. I- gods, I fucked up-” 

     Should they text him first?  

     When was the last time they’d voluntarily checked on their brother? Had they ever? 

     Would he even answer?

     They tapped their screen awake. 

     It was Centross. He’d sent a picture of a piece of paper taped to a tile wall. 

 

     Centross: found this in the bathroom

 

     Icarus tapped the image to enlarge it, and immediately let out the ugliest snort they’d ever managed. Typed out in a comically informal font, were the words “I can’t believe I had to make this sign, but here we are.” Followed by large, bold letters, in a completely different font, “DO NOT PUT PAPER TOWELS IN THE TOILET!” And smaller, scrawled along the bottom: “This message brought to you by the Department of Obvious Statements that Shouldn’t Have to be Made into Signs.” 

 

     Icarus: i don’t even want to know what happened here

 

     Centross responded almost immediately.  

 

     Centross: someone put paper towels in the toilet? Obviously?

 

     Icarus rolled their eyes. 

 

     Icarus: i know that 

     Icarus: smartass

 

     Centross: 🖕♥️

 

     And this was the man they’d fallen for. Wonderful. They’d truly won the lottery. 

     (Despite the thick sarcasm that clung to the thought, they couldn’t deny a part of them truly believed it.) 

     Tapping the power button to shut the screen back off, they inhaled a deep breath. Right. Centross . Centross was always a good distraction. What could they focus on regarding Centross? They certainly had many questions, and with only a few days left of the trip, they were running out of time to ask them. This was supposed to be a get-to-know-each-other-better trip, after all. 

     And that’s when the idea hit them. 

     Pocketing their phone, they left the room and all but ran down the stairs, swinging around the end of the bannister and coming to a stop in the doorway to the living room. Just as they’d hoped, there was Judi, Hope on her lap, knitting needles in her hands. 

     “Judi?” They smiled brightly at her and fought back the wince at the informal address. The Jackson matriarch looked up, though she didn’t look surprised to see them. (They had been fairly loud coming down the stairs.) “I have a…kind of maybe might be a stupid question?” 

     Judi smiled and chuckled quietly under her breath. “I doubt it is, but go on.”

     Icarus shoved their hands in their pockets to keep from fidgeting. “You wouldn’t happen to have a… dart board , would you?” 

     A momentary look of surprise crossed the woman’s face, but she recovered quickly, retrieving her bookmark from the side table and closing her book. “Why yes we do,” she responded, setting the book aside, “in the basement. You’re welcome to use it if you’d like.” Her eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. “Though I can’t say I’m not a bit curious as to why you’d be askin’ for a dart board. Bit of a random request, never pegged you for a darts fan.” 

     Icarus couldn’t help but grin at the confirmation that there was, in fact, a darts board in the house. They’d figured there was a solid chance of one, given how experienced Centross had seemed at the game, but it hadn’t been a guarantee. They would’ve still found a way to ask their questions, but the dart board was ideal. 

     “I’m not, not really – I mean, I don’t mind playing, I’ve only done it once, but it was fun! I was just…thinking when Centross got back, maybe we could. There’s this game we play. Or…played once. I thought he might want a re-match.”

     Judi’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Are you sayin’ you beat my son at darts? On your first try?” 

     She looked genuinely surprised and impressed, and Icarus couldn’t help but preen a little, stand a little straighter. “I might have,” they smirked, letting their pride show through their voice a bit. 

     “Well, aren’t you somethin’ special!” Judi marvelled at them, and Icarus glowed . “Do you even know how big a deal that is?”

     Icarus was used to praise, to older people telling them how special and talented they were; but for some reason, Judi’s praise hit so much harder. They found themself subconsciously puffing their chest out a bit. 

     “I mean, it’s not that big a deal-” Their words were modest, but their tone was anything but. It was their turn to be surprised as Judi’s eyes filled with an amused fondness . 

     It was the look of a mother whose child had just brought home their first little-league trophy and was milking all the attention they could out of it. 

     “Oh, it certainly is,” she countered. “My husband once held the record down at The Barn for darts. He was top of the leaderboard for years! ‘Til David came along, fifteen years old, and decimated his score. It was just after we’d adopted him, actually. Frank still jokes that it wasn’t enough for that boy to steal his heart and take his name, he had to take his record, too.” 

     Oh.  

     Ok so it was a bit of a big deal. 

     Icarus’ jaw dropped for a moment, before they plastered their confident face back on. 

     “Well, I guess I’m just that good, then.” Judi chuckled. 

     “I guess you are.” 

     After a beat of silence, Icarus shifted their weight a bit and blinked. “Uh…so, the basement you said?” She nodded. “I didn’t know you had a basement.” 

     Judi frowned. “Did Cen not show you the basement?” Icarus shook their head, and Judi rolled her eyes, though her fond smile implied she wasn’t truly annoyed. She scooped up Hope from her lap and stood with a small huff of effort; Hope stayed remarkably still the whole time for an animal, only moving once she’d been plopped back down on the couch, spinning a few times to get comfortable again and flopping back down with a tiny sigh. Judi shuffled towards the living room doorway. “I’ll show you.” 

     So Icarus followed her back through the kitchen, and down the short hallway just past the stairs, towards the bathroom. Icarus had been down this hall to wash up for meals several times over the past week. Except she passed the bathroom door, and opened one on the opposite site of the hall, revealing a set of narrow, unlit stairs leading down into nothingness. Reaching along the wall, her fingers found a light switch and a single dim bulb flickered on, revealing the stairs to be covered in an old, well-trampled reddish-brown carpet. 

     In all honesty, it looked straight out of a horror movie. Still, when Judi slowly led the way down, Icarus followed. They were an adult, damn it, they weren’t scared of a basement . A “basement” which turned out to be a single room, small, with faded wallpaper and a couch, circular ottoman, and what looked to be a stupidly old music player - all massive speakers and giant buttons, and a place to insert…cassette tapes? It was ancient, so probably. It was cold - significantly colder than the rest of the house – something that Judi quickly remedied by switching on an equally ancient free-standing fireplace along the back wall, a tiny black metal thing with a long pipe extruding from the top and disappearing into the wall just below the ceiling. 

     Sure enough, though, on one of the walls, a classic dart board hung from a slightly bent upwards nail above a small chest of drawers. 

     “There it is,” Judi pointed to it. “And the darts are in the top drawer there.” 

     “Thanks.” Icarus nodded. “Um…can I ask another question?” 

     “Of course, Dear. What is it?” 

     Icarus felt so stupid for asking, but the question had been bugging them. “You mentioned The Barn. That’s where the dance is tomorrow, right?” 

     “Yes, it is. Why?” 

     “When you say ‘The Barn’...is that…this barn? Like on the farm? Or a different barn?” 

     Judi stared at them for a moment, blinked, and then began to giggle. Actually giggle . This sixty-year-old woman was giggling at them like a schoolgirl. 

     “Oh, Icarus, Sweet Boy, have you been thinkin’ they were takin’ you to some random barn this whole time??” 

     (Their heart skipped a beat when she called them that. They…liked it. A lot.) 

     “Uhhhhhh…” They shrugged sheepishly. “Maybeee?” 

     Judi once again had that fond exasperation on her face. “The Barn is the local community spot, on the outskirts of town. People rent it out throughout the week for clubs, celebrations, ‘n other gatherin’s, and every Friday night there’s some sort of event. E’ryone in town and anyone who happens to be visitin’ town is invited. Last week it was a trivia night. This week’s dancin’. Speakin’ of, do you feel alright goin’ to that? I know they kinda sprung that one on you.” 

     At her concern, the warmth already blossoming in Icarus’ chest only spread. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Morgan taught me a bit yesterday. I want to go.” 

     Judi nodded, and reached out a hand to pat them on the shoulder. “Okay, that’s good. I love those kids to death but some of ‘em can be a bit pushy. As long as you’re comfortable.” She gave their shoulder one last affectionate rub and stepped away back towards the stairs. “I’ll leave you to it. Are you comin’ back up, or should I send Cen down here when he gets back?” 

     Icarus glanced around the room once more, and stared at the dart board, before nodding. “If you would, please.” 

     Judi smiled at them. “Alright, I can do that. Have fun.” 

    She disappeared up the stairs, and immediately, Icarus was grabbing the handles of the top drawer and yanking it open. It took a few tries, the old wood a bit sticky and misshapen after years of expanding and contracting with the fluctuating weather, but when they finally pulled it free, they found a myriad of darts – a frankly unrealistic amount, in their opinion. Different shapes, lengths, and widths with varying numbers of the little fins on the backs. Thankfully, the Jacksons seemed to care enough about the game to meticulously organize their dart equipment, and they were able to find some that they recognized from the Sea Dragon. 

     It wasn’t what they had planned to practice, but no matter.  

     Centross would be back soon. 

     Whatever Centross had been expecting when he returned home, it wasn’t this. He’d lugged the large package into the house, dropped the few plastic grocery bags on the kitchen counter, and thought he’d be going upstairs to find Icarus taking a midday nap. He was not expecting Judi to call for him from the living room and tell him that Icarus was waiting for him downstairs. 

     It hadn’t even been worth showing Icarus the basement. There was nothing down there. Just some old antiques and a bit of storage space under the stairs for random decor and memorabilia. The more he thought about it, the more he became concerned . He wasn’t stupid – he knew what had happened the previous day, when Morgan and Mei had stolen his boots. He knew what a distraction attempt looked like. 

     And he knew the looks on Dio and Icarus’ faces when he’d returned. Centross swore his heart had stopped for a moment when he’d put the pieces together.  

     What had Dio told them. What did they know. The last time Centross had brought a partner (could he call them that?) home that he was physically intimate with he’d ended up getting railed against a barn wall. This time was different, and he knew it. And there was now no way Dio didn’t . 

     Centross’ mind swirled with every embarrassing secret they could’ve spilled as he descended the stairs. But his expectations were once again shattered when he reached the bottom, and found Icarus across from the dart board. They looked up at him. 

     “That took a while,” they commented, crossing the room to pull a few yellow darts from the board. 

     “Yeah…Frank..had a..package…what are you doing down here?” 

     Icarus raised an eyebrow at him. They looked from him, to the dart board, to the darts in their hand, then back to him.  

     “What does it look like.” 

     “You’re playing darts?” 

     “Wow, you’re so smart, good job!” 

     He ran his hand across his face with an exasperated sigh. “Can you not be a pain in my ass for one morning?” 

     “Uh, first of all-” They dropped into the sassiest stance Centross had seen from them in a while. “-it’s one p.m. Morning is over, and I was an angel this morning, excuse you. Second, no. Pick your darts, we’re playing that game again. I have questions.” 

     “Or we could just…talk.” Even as he spoke, Centross was walking over to his grandmother’s old chest of drawers where the darts were held. “Like normal people. I would hope we’d know how to do that by now.” 

     They pretended to think for a moment, and shook their head. “No. We’re playing the game. Hurry up.” 

     Centross huffed a small laugh under his breath and carefully pulled on the handles of the top drawer, years of practice allowing him to gently lift and draw it out. Rather than going for any of the  individual darts in the small plastic containers, he pulled a small wooden box out from the back. It was an expensive looking thing, real mahogany with the initials “F.H.J” engraved on one side and “D.C.J.” on the other. Inside, just as he’d left them, sat a pristine, competition-quality set of purple steel-tipped darts. He carefully lifted them out and turned back to Icarus. 

     “Fine, ok. But I’m going first this time.” 

     Icarus gestured to the board as if to say ‘go for it’ and crossed the room again to lean against the wall. Centross stepped behind the “line,” aka a strip of carpet shaved down and dyed black exactly seven feet and nine-and-a-quarter inches away from the board. 

     “Same rules?” 

      Icarus nodded. “Thrower asks, other has to answer. Three shots. Then we switch.” 

     Centross lined up his first shot. 

     “Alright then.” He threw. 

     Solid twenty. Game on.

     “First question.” He turned with a smirk on his face. “How do you really feel about bein’ here? With me. Honest thoughts.” 

     Their cocky demeanor visibly melted into something a bit more genuine. “It’s the best time I’ve had in years.” Then they paused, shrugging. “Maybe ever. I’ve never… not gone home before. It’s…it’s really nice.” 

     The answer was equally as sweet as it was concerning, but that was par for the course by that point. Centross had been wondering since they’d agreed to go along how they planned to dodge Fable. He wanted to ask so, so badly but after the last time they’d played – 

     He’d learned not to ask about Fable. 

     He lined up his next shot and let it fly. Nineteen. 

     “What are your impressions of my family so far?” 

     They hummed. “Judi is terrifying but wonderful, Frank is… jarringly kind. Morgan is…also terrifying, but understandable. Mei’s cute. And Dio is a menace after my own heart.” The smirk that  they got when mentioning Dio sent a wave of… something through Centross’ body. 

      “What did they tell you.” 

     The twinkling in their eyes did nothing to hide their amusement. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And, also, that’s illegal, you didn’t throw. Foul. I get an extra question on my turn.” 

     “That’s not a rule, we didn’t say that was a rule!” 

     “Yeah it is.” 

     “That was not a rule last time.” 

     “Then I’m saying it now! Only fair. This is round two, gotta up the ante a bit. Get good or get gone.” They waved a hand at the dart board. “Now throw already!” 

     With a roll of his eyes, he vaguely lined up the shot, definitely overplaying his annoyance. Sixteen. 

     He didn’t turn around this time.

     “If I asked you again. Would you come back?” 

     Silence behind him. For a moment, he thought he would have to prompt them for an answer. But then a small voice, just loud enough to not be considered a whisper, met his ears. 

      “If I could? Yes. A thousand times over.” 

 

     They switched spots without speaking, though as Icarus set up at the line, Centross studied their stance. 

     “Do you remember what I taught you last time?” He asked, low. An invitation. One that Icarus picked up immediately. 

     “Of course I do.” They shifted, settling into a much proper form. “Balance,  straight line connecting everything together, don’t move too much, follow through like…this.” they sent the dark soaring into the board. It collided perfectly, stuck just fine. It was only five points though. A fact that Icarus immediately began muttering about. 

     Centross chuckled a little. 

     “Good.” Just one word. Just that. But he let it ring out, let it settle upon them, and watched the slight shiver it provoked. “What’s your question?” 

     The small breath was almost imperceptible, and he would’ve missed it entirely if he didn’t know their body like the back of his hand. 

     “What’s actually up with you and Dio?” they asked. “They told me some stuff but I want your explanation for…that. Whatever you two have going on.” 

     The question was asked with a teasing lilt, and Centross snorted. 

     “We are…us. We take comfort in each other, blow off steam together, and care about each other in our own way. There isn’t a label for what we are.”

     “..fair enough.” Icarus mused, turning round and preparing to throw their next dart. “You have a type, though.”  

     “I…want to deny that but I can’t.” 

     They scored an eleven. 

     “The night we got here, in the hayloft – I didn’t ask then, but you said things didn’t ‘work out’ for Frank and Judi buying part of the farm. What happened?” 

     “Cirteus Ordall happened.” Understatement of the century. “Killed his partner, got killed by his partner’s sister. Remember?” 

     “Yeah, but,” Icarus spun a dart in their fingers, which was probably a bad idea to do with steel tips. He didn’t correct them. “If Asariel’s still running this place from the other side of the country or whatever, wouldn’t it be easier for him to sell off a chunk of it? Less for him to manage?” 

     …Damn. Centross had really been hoping they’d have taken the easy answer and accepted it. The reality of the situation was…harder. 

     “...Ok. You’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess the main reason is... I happened. Everythin’ had just gone to shit with the Ordalls and then suddenly they’re getting a call for a foster placement. After a while of me bein’ around and gettin’ nowhere with Asariel, they decided to use the ‘farm fund’ to raise me instead. They’d been buildin’ that fund for twenty years.  They tell me I don’t have to pay them back, but…I do. That’s why I’m gonna play football. Professionally. I’m going to make a ton of money and buy this whole farm, set them up to live the rest of their days in luxury, and take care of them in thanks for everythin’ they gave up for me.” 

     Icarus’ face was soft. They smiled. 

     “They’re good people.” 

      “..Yeah. They really are.” 

     They went to say something else, but a shadow fell over them. Their eyes widened. 

     “Oh… fuck .” 

     Centross frowned. “What?” 

     Icarus whirled around, lined up the shot, and threw. Fifteen. 

     “That’s why you couldn’t afford to lose Enderian’s support, wasn’t it?” They asked, looking more and more guilty by the second. 

     Oh. 

     “Yes.” He could see what they were thinking. “The position, the scholarship, the coaching, the mentorship, that’s my ticket to success. My future depends on it.” 

      “...and I almost ruined it.” 

     Pushing himself off the wall, he was at their slide with their face in his hands before they could blink. 

     “Hey.” He forced them to look up at him. “We figured it out.” 

     “I almost–”

     “You didn’t.” 

     “I could have!” Grabbing his wrists they yanked his hands off of their face. “I could have so easily and I don’t think I would’ve cared!” 

     Their grip was tight, a bit frantic. In one swift motion, Centross twisted their arms around and forced them to drop his wrists, grabbing theirs instead and winding them around their back, pulling them into his chest. Restraining them in a hug. The struggled, protested, demanded he release them, cursed at him, but were unable to contend with his strength. He waited until they surrendered, body going limp and head falling onto his shoulder to speak. 

     “You care now. ” He murmured into their ear. “You’ve grown. And you weren’t the only one being a stubborn prick.” He dropped a quick kiss to the side of their head. “We figured it out. Nothing’s broken. Everything’s fine. We’re here, we’re better, and we’ve learned. And I’m proud of you.” 

     Icarus let out a choked sound, like a poor attempt at swallowing an incredulous laugh. Immediately, he wanted to press, wanted to ask what they were thinking, what was going on, what had triggered the reaction, but Icarus pressed their lips to his neck in a soft, thankful kiss and his mind went blank. 

     “Thank you,” they breathed against the skin. 

 

     Eventually, Centross had to let them go to take his next turn. They decided to play two rounds before adding up the scores (to give Icarus an actual chance at winning), so they went into the round with their previous points: Centross at fifty-five, and Icarus at thirty-one. 

     Centross decided for fun to aim for the same score a second time. For practice. He hadn’t set himself a good darts challenge in a while. His first dart landed on the eighteen. 

     “The two who showed up after the opening game,” he began, and watched Icarus visibly tense. “One of them is related to you, from the way you were talking. Your brother?” 

     “Half brother.” The words came so quickly and sounded so robotic, and Icarus cringed again. “I mean….yeah. Yeah, Rae’s my brother.” 

     Their answer had him theorizing. Icarus and Rae obviously had a strained relationship, and the instinctual knee-jerk reaction to correct him after calling Rae his brother instead of half-brother, only to then correct themself back to brother – it was like watching their brain re-code itself in real time. 

     It gave him hope . 

     “I take it he’s not Fable’s, then. From the last name.” 

     “Yeah. Yeah, our…our mom. Isla Morningstar. She had an affair.” 

     “‘Isla.’” Centross repeated, turning back around. “Pretty.” His next dart earned him a seventeen. “And the other one? That was quite the lecture. Seemed…serious.” 

     Their head dropped back against the wall as they considered their next words. “That…was Ven. Ven Atlan. Editor of The Gilded Tribune and manager of the Overworlders. We were…friends.” 

     “Bullshit.” 

     They spluttered, rambling nonsense, before managing to pull themself together enough to string together a half-way coherent sentence that was still full of pauses and shrugs and defensive huffs. “Ok, fine, we weren’t just friends, but we weren’t anything else, either. We were never anything, but…I don’t know, maybe there was something , but… it doesn’t matter anymore. I have  destroyed all possibilities of anything happening there. I didn’t tell them I was leaving and then ignored him for months, so.” 

     “That didn’t sound like a breakup to me.” 

     “Uh, yeah, cause you can’t break up with someone you were never with. ” 

     “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He crossed his arms. “He told you to call him. That doesn’t sound destroyed. And nothing is going to happen if you don’t tell them how you feel–” 

     “I didn’t tell them I was leaving to avoid telling him how I feel!” Icarus pressed their hands to their eyes. “Cause I know he’d’ve said something and then it’d just be a sappy mess! I don’t… didn’t… I wasn’t ready for something like that.” 

     Wasn’t. Not Isn’t. Centross forced himself not to read into those words too closely. 

     “But you do like him.” They didn’t respond, then. Just sighed heavily. That was answer enough. “Look, they clearly care about you. Genuinely. And I’m not saying this to be a dick, but I know that’s rare for you. You two should talk.” 

     Their hands flopped down to their sides, useless. “...Yeah. Maybe.” 

     Satisfied that his point had been made and heard, Centross turned back to the board. Eighteen plus seventeen…he needed to hit either a twenty or a double ten. Twenty would be easier, but….

     He cracked his neck, stretched out his arm, and lined up his shot,  

     And nailed the double twenty. 

     Icarus groaned. He grinned. Fifty-five, on the dot. 

     “Last question. You clearly don’t have a great relationship with him, but you’re workin’ on something with Rae, aren’t you? He asked you to run some tests, said y’all were on the right track? What’s that about?”

     Icarus looked conflicted, like they weren’t certain if they were relieved at the topic change or dreading the new one. In fact it took them a long time to speak; they just stared at the ground and chewed on their lip, as if debating speaking at all. Centross was just about to ask if the question was too much, to offer to make an exception to the ‘you have to at least try and answer’ rule, when the softest words left their lips. 

     “I transferred to End U for Dr. Perix.” They looked up at him. “That was true. But…there’s more to it. You asked me why. I said to help people. I meant to help someone..specific.” When they stopped to take a deep breath, it was shaky. “Our mom is sick. Really sick. When she….we left my father for a while with her. When Rae was born. But she started getting really bad. Dad said it was a genetic thing, something she’d had the potential to develop for a while, and the stress triggered it. He – she’s been in a long-term care facility since I was ten. We haven’t seen her in about as long. Since we were kids, me and Rae decided that if the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong and how to fix it, we would have to do it ourselves. We’ve been trading research for years, and now that I have access to Dr. Perix and the End U resources, I can do a lot more specific and specialized experiments. That’s why.” They shrugged, but it was half-hearted and tired. “...I just want my family to go back to normal.” 

     He gave them another hug, then, one that lasted for a while. That was a lot of pressure to put on a kid, the weight of fixing a family likely beyond repair. A lot of things were beginning to make sense about Icarus Gilded. 

     The biggest thing, though, was the information that Isla had tried to leave, had tried to take the kids and run . Which meant there was a good handful of years where Fable did not have access to them. If he hadn’t already been convinced that Fable was a horrible person, the implication that he was an abusive husband as well as an abusive father was the final nail in the coffin. 

     “I’m sorry,” he whispered into their hair. 

     They said nothing.

     There was very little chance that Icarus could win in one turn. With his second fifty-five, Centross was sitting pretty at one hundred and ten points, meaning they would have to score eighty in three throws. But, if there was nothing else that could be said about Icarus Gilded, they were certainly ambitious.

     Their first throw was an eighteen. Not bad, but not nearly enough. 

     “What’s your name?” they asked first. “Like, your full legal government name.” 

     He couldn’t say he hadn’t seen the question coming. “David Centross Mistvale,” he answered honestly, and watched their brain freeze up and struggle to compute the response. 

     “I- but- wait, so…huh?” 

     He raised an eyebrow at them. “What?” 

     “But…at the bar, everyone called you ‘Jackson,’ and Judi said you took Frank’s name, and…..”

     “I’m still Frank and Judi’s son in every way that matters, if that’s what you’re askin’.” Pushing himself back up the wall a little bit where he’d begun to slip, he crossed his arms across his chest. “Legally and otherwise. When fillin’ out the adoption papers, I had the choice to take Jackson as my surname. I chose not to. I’m a Jackson to everyone who matters. But I’m not done with ‘Mistvale’ yet.” 

     Frowning, Icarus didn’t move for a long moment. They eventually turned and tossed another dart at the board. Twenty. Centross hummed in approval. 

     “What’s so important about ‘Mistvale’? From what Dio said, I take it you didn’t have a great relationship with your birth parents. Why hold onto it?” 

     With every passing second, Centross could feel the weight of entire universes as the metaphorical storm clouds gathered above his head. He didn’t feel alone with them in that room, anymore. There were eyes, watching him. Waiting for him to speak. To tell their stories, to spill his secrets. 

     He knew he’d have to tell them eventually. But was he ready? 

     “The name is a memory of the night I survived,” his response slow, flat, “even as every adult in my life, those who were supposed to protect me, planned my death.”

     Icarus Gilded was no fool. Obnoxious, entitled, and cold at times, but not an idiot. They could feel the shift in the energy in that space. Part of Centross screamed at them to let it go, to drop it, not to make him relieved that night. But another part of him knew there was no stopping what was about to happen. 

     David Centross Mistvale was a stubborn man. Icarus Gilded was worse. 

     Icarus threw their final dart. It was only one point, but they had already turned back around, all cares for the game crushed beneath what Centross knew intimately as the overwhelming desire to know . 

     “...what happened.” 

     And Centross’ defenses shattered. 

 

     He moved them over to the couch, Icarus following without a word. 

     “Have you spent any time on the true crime side of the internet?” 

     Icarus shook their head. “No, but Ven did. He listens to a lot of podcasts, and he’d ramble to himself and to me about it?”  

     “Did he ever come across The Order of the Divine Mind?” 

     The gears turned in Icarus’ mind, and their eyes flashed with recognition. “Yeah, that’s – they did a paper on that a while ago. That’s the, like,” snapping, trying to jog their memory, “they sacrificed people to their goddess.” 

     Centross took a deep breath, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. “Mhm. What else?” 

     “Uhhh…the entire place was burned down? Only one person sur…vived.” He heard their breath stutter to a stop. “The boy. The son of the leaders, their last name was kept classified to protect him. He was the only one to make it out, and no one knows who he is or where he ended up.” 

     Centross nodded, just slightly, just enough to be noticeable. “Mistvale. Their names were Samaheel and Raekael Mistvale.” 

     The room plunged into a dead silence, but to Centross, it was deafening. Even after thirteen years of therapy, thirteen years of freedom, it was still so hard to look his past in the eye. It was always there, floating in the background, but it was so much easier to just harness it, use it as a reason , as motivation, without actually looking at it . And yet here he was, staring it down, showing it to Icarus and collapsing under its gaze. 

     “...holy shit. ”

     Icarus’ voice sounded so far away. Were they whispering? They might have been. It didn’t matter. His lips were moving again, his mouth was open.

     He was telling them everything. About his friend, about his mother, about his father and about The Family. About overhearing those words, burned into his brain, whispered in his ear at night and reminding him that he was supposed to die.

     “I was the one who did it.” The admission never got easier. It still tasted like ashes on his tongue. He hated that taste. Hated the way it had hung thick in the air, inescapable. “That’s why I survived. The compound went up in flames at my hand. I poured the gasoline. I lit it up. I killed them all. Because they were going to kill me. And they’d already killed so many before me.” His  voice was raspy, shaking. “That night I learned the truth. I thought I’d go down with it, but that was okay. They wanted a sacrifice. I gave them a hundred .

     “I got lucky. I know I did. If I hadn’t been in that place at that time, I would be but a footnote on a police record, if that. And they might even be alive, still trying to infuse the mortal with the divine, crafting a vessel for a goddess out of flesh and blood.” 

     He barely registered the arms wrapping around him, the dart board left forgotten, the game abandoned. Final score: one hundred and ten to seventy. Centross had won. But neither of them cared. 

     Icarus held him as the flashbacks took over. 

     If you were to ask David why, of all days, he had picked that one to sate his curiosity, he couldn’t’ve told you. The questions had been building for months. First, his closest friend disappeared. Though not uncommon, it had struck David as odd. His father said he had left to join the Greater Consciousness, but he hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to leave. They’d just been playing together the previous day. Then, it was his mother. Again, his father said she joined the Greater Consciousness, but he’d seemed angry. That confused David. Joining the Greater Consciousness was supposed to be a good thing. It meant you were one with “Our Lady” again, your soul, a piece of her, a piece of the Divine Mind, reunited with its whole. But his father had seemed displeased , like his mother had done something she wasn’t allowed to do. Had she gone without permission? How? She had been initiated, in fact, she was one of “The Seven” – the inner circle of the Family, consisting of his father, his mother, and the five others found worthy of being priests alongside them. She was one of “Our Lady”’s chosen. Surely, of all people, she had earned the right to choose to rejoin Her if she wished. 

     The doubts had taken hold of him faster than he’d expected. 

     Then his lessons began to pick up speed. His monthly sleepless vigils grew more frequent, as did the hunger cleansing. He was having to do his purification baths daily , rather than weekly. Though he was starting to wonder if the blood purification rituals were as necessary as his father claimed, or if it was just a way for his “teacher,” an aggressive and sadistic man, Uncle Vaughan, to take his anger out. He’d begun to have many thoughts like that, which made it feel like these “lessons” that were supposed to “prepare” and “purify” him for the Divine Mind weren’t working. He felt less and less “pure” by the day; though admitting to such shortcomings would certainly make the lessons increase even more , and David wasn’t sure how much more his mortal body could take. 

     He tried to ask questions, tried to understand, genuinely he tried . But his father was sitting in on his lessons less and less and even the priests or other members of the Family he’d appoint to watch over the boy refused to tell him any more than the standard catechism he’d already been taught. In fact, asking questions was a solid way to end up reciting said catechism to the steady rhythm of a switch against his bare skin. The questions never faded, though, despite the adults’ best attempts to literally and figuratively beat them out of him. Instead, it seemed they only burned brighter. 

     Funny thing, how a single burning question could ignite an entire field of lies. 

     It was a surprisingly cold night for the middle of summer, easily chilly enough to warrant a light jacket, but David, being the newly-turned-twelve-year-old-boy that he was, had stubbornly gone without. No one would be correcting his lack of proper attire after all, because no one would be seeing him sneak out of his bedroom. 

     Later, he would wonder if the extra layer might have saved him some pain, or just given the flames more fuel. He would never know.

     He knew vaguely where the priesthood meetings were held, in the community house at the center of the compound. Though they never took place during the daylight, during his sleepless vigils, he’d caught glimpses of figures leaving the building from the small shed where his lessons took place. And he knew about the hallway that was strictly forbidden for anyone but The Seven. And after weeks of practicing with his mother’s old bobby pin and a spare padlock in his room, he knew how to get into it.

     Nothing could have prepared him for what he found behind that door. 

     The musty smell was the first thing he noticed. As opposed to the rest of the community house, which was regularly cleaned by the Family members on a rotating schedule, this hallway hadn’t seen a single fiber of a broom or dust cloth in ages . He crept down the metal spiraling staircase at the end, carefully holding onto the railing, and though he considered abandoning it when his hand came back streaked black with – dirt? ash? – he supposed he’d much rather sneak into the bathroom to wash his hands when he got home than fall and break his neck in the spooky forbidden hallway. 

     The bottom of the staircase was closed in by large stone brick walls, forming a tiny room the size of a broom closet, one of the walls taken up by an ornately carved, carefully polished, heavy-looking wooden door. In contrast to the rest of the secret passage, the door was remarkably well maintained. 

     And despite how heavy it looked , it was light enough in reality to let solemn voices slip through – 

     “We are running out of time.” David recognized the voice - one of The Seven, Uncle Valentine. “ And options.” 

     “The solstice is fast approaching.” Another of The Seven, Aunt Cervantes. “But with no further successes, I fear we will not be ready.” 

     “We cannot afford to wait much longer!” Uncle Kaiser. “With High Priestess Raekael’s departure the Family grows restless! How long can we provide explanation for her failure?”

     “They are sheep .” Avaunt Zavala. “They will believe what we tell them. High Priestess Raekael has joined the Greater Consciousness; they need not know more.” 

     “As blessed as those who rejoin Our Lady might be, we run low on subjects.” Valentine again. “At this rate there will be no one left to welcome Her when we finally succeed. Are we sure we cannot just use the boy, Brother Vaughan? We’ve been preparing him for years -”  

     The words of Valentine startled David, and he frowned and pushed his ear harder against the door. 

     “He is not ready.” Uncle Vaughan. His voice sent shivers down David’s spine. 

     “Are you quite sure-”

     “I am.” His tone was flat, monotone. “My most recent evaluation of his progress was very disappointing. He is not nearly as far along as he should be.” 

     “He’s far along enough.” His father’s voice cut through the budding argument, silencing it immediately. David tensed. “We cannot postpone another year. Underdeveloped or not, the boy carries the strongest odds of a successful latch.” There was a brief pause, where David imagined something physical was going on that he couldn’t hear. “We continue forward with the child.” 

     “Then let us initiate him first,” Cervantes proposed, “and awaken his soul. Then, if the ritual doesn’t take, he shall pass on to the Greater Consciousness along with his mother. High Priestess Raekael deserves that much.” 

     “His soul is just as immature as his body,” Vaughan grumbled. “Both will falter under the weight of the Divine, initiated or otherwise.” 

     “You are saying the Divine would not want the boy, Brother Vaughan? That this would be a death sentence, a true death , no matter his faith?” 

     David’s blood ran cold. His heart seemed to stop in his chest. 

     Death. 

     David was not unfamiliar with death; he’d grown up on a farm, on a large compound with livestock and pets. He knew that living things died. How stupid he felt in that moment, when he realized. 

     One did not just “leave” to join the Greater Consciousness. To rejoin The Divine Mind was to die. 

     His friend was dead. 

     His mother was dead .  

     How many more had come to the High Priest and begged for their souls to be freed?  

     How many more laid on that altar had begged to live ?

     Deep within his very being, at the apex of his soul, the persistent spark of righteous fury finally caught, and the first inklings of flame flickered to life. 

     “How much faith can a twelve-year-old boy have?” Zavala sneered. “From what I’ve seen, the child’s soul is stained beyond rectification.” Vaughan audibly growled.

     “I hope you’re not suggesting my work is unsatisfactory.” 

     “And if I was? You said yourself, the whelp is immature. And I believe we’ve all seen his recent interest in matters of violence .”

     “Not that this is something you would know, Sibling Zavala,” Valentine sounded amused, “But finding pleasure in play-pretend games of battle with sticks is a common trait amongst most adolescent boys. I would hardly consider it a sign of a tainted soul.”

     “I don’t know~” Cervantes hummed, “He seemed quite eager to take out his frustrations on that tree~”

    “A lapse I hear Brother Vaughan swiftly rectified.” Kaiser snickered, a laugh that was echoed by the others until they fell suddenly silent. David’s knuckles whitened around the hem of his shirt, vividly remembering that day. The stripes along his back stung where they lie, still in the process of healing. The stillness was explained moments later when his father spoke again. 

     “The boy will be initiated. Should he too fail, then, by Our Lady’s graciousness, my son and my wife shall be together.” 

    David’s entire body felt pulled taught as a bowstring. Years of catechism, of stories, of words spoken in the darkness and in the light echoed through his mind. The Greater Consciousness, Our Lady the Divine Mind. The ritual. The holy vessel. The Reabsorption of Mankind. 

     They wanted to use him. 

     And they didn’t think he would survive. 

     That ritual had murdered his mother. 

     The same ritual they had planned for him. 

     Kaiser sounded nervous as they spoke up. 

     “My Priest, you have already suffered a great loss. Is this not too much to ask of you?”

     “...my wife’s faith was strong, yes. She was Our Lady’s most devoted servant. But she was foolish. We have tried so many different avenues, hoped that the whispers on the winds were wrong, that our final hope might not be necessary. But the solstice approaches, and our numbers grow few. Our Lady’s power grows weaker on this mortal plane. I have no other choice. Goddess forgive  me if I am wrong. I will offer up my only son as the perfect vessel, infused with divinity and set apart from this world, as perfectly crafted as I have been able to manage. I can only pray it is enough.” 

     The sound of the blood roaring in David’s ears tuned out the low murmuring prayers of agreement lifted up by an assembly of faith-blind fools. He hardly noticed as his legs moved, carried him away from that place, up the stairs and back out the door of the community house. He collapsed to his knees on the sparse grass, tears stinging his eyes, his stomach churning and filling his throat and mouth with bile and sick, every inch of his being rejecting his reality. His cuts and bruises and scars ached and burned and felt like lead upon his flesh, brands that marked him a lamb  for slaughter. The infant flame within him danced and devoured and consumed him from the inside out – 

     They wanted to make a vessel of him? He would become a vessel of every soul they had robbed. They wanted divinity? He would become the wretched divine.  

     If it was a sacrifice they required, then a sacrifice they would get. David would offer up the greatest sacrifice. 

     The Goddess was ravenous. 

     And David burned with it.

     They would burn with him. 

 

     For the first time in his life, David was grateful for his father’s insistence on total isolation from the wider world. With their use of modern farm equipment, they had a shed filled with gasoline. It took him mere seconds to pick the lock. The smell inside was nauseating, and he might have thrown up if his stomach hadn’t already emptied itself. It was significantly harder to sneak around the property lugging several gallons of the stuff, but in just an hour, the community house, the barracks, the estate house, and that terrible shed where he’d been carefully molded and shaped under sharp blades and rough hands and harsh words were all thoroughly soaked with none the wiser. The Family was dead asleep, bone-tired after another day of hard labour, and The Seven had not yet emerged from the Hidden Sanctuary. The only thing left to do was unleash the unholy bonfire coursing through his veins – and with the matchbox in his hand, it was not difficult. 

     He lit the shed up first. If he were to be caught, he at least wanted that cursed place to be ash. He hoped the heat would be enough to melt the wrought iron chains that hung from the rafters. Next, the estate house. No one was there that night, anyway. His mother was dead, his father was with the rest of The Seven, and himself – well, he was dragging another gallon of gasoline back towards the barracks. 

     Part of him felt guilty for what he was about to do. The other part just remembered every time they’d walked past him at meals, curled on the floor and weak with hunger, and told him to get up. Every time they’d passed by the shed as he stood in the fifteenth hour of his sleepless vigil, legs shaking, eyes red and unseeing, and clapped or yelled to startle him, to shoot adrenaline through his veins, to wake him up. Every time they’d passed the shed as he screamed, had looked him in the eyes as blood ran down his face, his arms, his legs, his back, and walked away. Or, worse, had approached, laying hands on him and blessing him. Praising The Divine Mind in earnest worship as he grew faint from bloodloss. 

     None of them were free of blame. They all had to burn. 

     The smoke rose into the air as the screaming began. The doors and windows of the lower levels filled with smoke and flame, unpassable, trapping the occupants inside. The upper windows were flung open, safety ladders lowered, but they caught and went up in seconds, sending the frantic Family members hurtling towards the ground in wailing balls of foul-smelling fire. But he had no time to appreciate his handiwork, or to mourn the losses, for the noise would soon alert his father and the others. 

     The explosion rang out once his back was turned, the telltale sound of bodies smacking wetly against the roof and thudding onto the earth the only thing he could hear as he ran. 

     The compound was large, but the main buildings were not far apart. By the time he’d reached the community house, he could already hear panicked shouts and orders from the forbidden hallway and heavy footsteps clanging on metal stairs. 

     Eyes locked on the doorway, he raised a hand, lit the final match, and just as his father stepped into the main hall, dropped it on the gasoline-slick ground. 

     There was a brief moment of eye-contact as the trail of ignition fluid lit, a single second for his father to take a step forward, his mouth moving to form his name, for a hand to reach out to him-

     Then it all went up. 

T     he puddle on the ground ignited in a flash of red and orange and yellow and blue and the resulting fire filled the main hall of the community house, funneled straight into that forbidden hallway and washing over the priests, bathing them in two thousand degree hellfire, their wailing and panic eagerly lapped up by the one who set it. 

     Their fallen angel. 

     Their imperfect vessel. 

     Their final damnation incarnate, crafted by their own hands. 

     …

     David was too close.  

     The explosion shook the ground, too violent and too sudden, sending a wave of burning wrath over David himself, his clothes instantly catching and his hair and his skin. He cried out, even as the shockwave sent him flying backwards and the back of his head collided with the solid dirt from the force of it. His vision blurred, black spots clouding his sight, the screaming and the  crackling of the flames suddenly distant and muted. He still registered the pain, though. 

     The infernal wrath that boiled within him was made external, and it consumed him. 

     David wasn’t sure what happened next. It all melted together in a pool of pain and screaming and acrid-smelling smoke. All he knew for certain was what he was told – that the police had found him floating in the pond, his clothes half burned away half melted into his skin, yet somehow, with very limited burns on his actual body. He vaguely remembered being carried away, had images seared into his mind of ashes and rubble, of smoke, of blood and scorched flesh, of faces burned away and left smiling. And he could still feel the pain. 

     He would always feel the pain. 

     He should’ve died that night. But he didn’t. And he wouldn’t . Despite what his father, the priests, the Family…the Order thought, he was more than a sacrifice. More than a vessel. 

     He was worth the most alive, and he would prove it to the dead.

     The Order of the Divine Mind was nothing more than another scary story for the internet to dissect. 

     And David Centross Mistvale lived.

Notes:

I'd put something witty here, but...I think I'll just let the ending ring out on it's own.

As always, Pinterest boards
And Spotify Character Playlists

And come scream at me on Tumblr! I live for hearing what y'all think!

Chapter 7: Say It

Summary:

The day of the dance and the morning after.

Notes:

FINALE TIME!

Final reminder to READ THE TAGS! I'm not gonna give specific trigger warnings for this chapter to avoid spoilers, cause I really really think it would be a disservice to the story. I'll say TW for mild sexual content, and that's it. Read the tags and proceed with caution.

I hope y'all enjoy. :)

     Centross grunted quietly as he tugged the shirt over his head, tugging at the bottom seam to smooth it out over his torso. Last night was…good. Despite the aching rawness of the old wound ripped open anew, despite the way his throat still felt a bit hoarse from crying, it had felt okay, right, even, to tell them everything. And every negative thought in his mind that had screamed at him had been proven wrong. They hadn’t feared him, hadn’t recoiled, hadn’t run. They’d come closer. They’d held him throughout the entire thing, had stared down the ghosts of his past and comforted him anyway. They’d been the one to drag him upstairs and put him to bed, to cradle him to their chest and let him hide, repeating soft affirmations that they were there, that he was safe, that they had him. 

     Gods, he loved them. With every passing day, the fact became more and more undeniable, the way the feeling wrapped around his heart and tugged , practically bound him to them, pulled him to their side like a magnet. He loved their sass, their sarcasm. He loved the way they’d go out of their way to capture his attention and say just the right thing to have him rolling his eyes and biting his tongue, the way they’d match him step for step in battles of wits and battles of words. 

     And he loved when they were soft . When their walls came down, and they bared their heart to him. Let him see all of them, ego and insecurity, cockiness and fear . 

     Except….

     They hadn’t, had they? They hadn’t lied, and they’d been far more open than they had the last time they’d played that game, but even now, there was something they weren’t saying. He hadn’t wanted to push, but at the same time – his own soul was bare. Icarus knew it all , every broken, tragic, fucked-up piece of him. Was it wrong of him to want the same? To know them just as intimately, just as completely? Was it selfish to want more? Could he even ask that of them? 

     He loved them, so much. So, so much. And it hurt to see them fighting for their life against something he couldn’t see. But they weren’t together. As much as he wanted it, wanted them , craved them, all of them, the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly – they weren’t his . It hurt, gods it hurt like hell, but he had to keep his mouth shut, be grateful for anything they would give him and accept what they didn’t. He couldn’t afford to push them away, not now. Not after everything. Not after he’d fallen so deeply and desperately in love with them. 

     He blinked the slowly building tears out of his stinging eyes and took a deep breath, looking about his room to ground himself, when his eyes landed on his dresser. Specifically, on the football atop it. An idea struck him. It would need more air, of course, it had probably grown a bit flat just sitting on his dresser all these years, but….

     He scooped it up and left the room.

     Icarus let out a long breath as the song ended and they paused the playlist with their earbuds. They’d gotten up early and spent the morning practicing again, this time behind the garage. It had taken a lot of coaxing and kisses to extract themself out from under Centross, but it was worth it to have a bit of extra time to ensure sure they wouldn’t make a fool of themself. Or of Centross and the Ordalls. 

     “If you’re gonna be in this family, you’re goin’ dancin’ with us on Friday. And you ain’t gonna embarrass us hidin’ on the sidelines.”

     They didn’t know Morgan well enough to be 100% certain that she was joking, and either way, they weren’t going to risk it. They’d be out of their element enough already; they could only hope their extensive experience with nightclubs and house parties and a few hours of practice would be enough. They started up the music again, and let muscle memory take over as they ran through another dance, thanking the gods that these things were at least repetitive. So repetitive, in fact, that as they danced, their mind began to wander. 

     If they were completely honest with themself, they were apprehensive about Dio’s…suggestion. It sounded fun, and if it wasn’t such an obvious public display they’d be all over it without a moment’s hesitation. But they’d never even hugged in public. Much less… this . It wasn’t safe. Their father could find out, and there was only so long they could play the ‘it’s a strategy, I promise’ card before he saw right through it. (If they could even convincingly play that card anymore. Their old masks felt increasingly more out of reach each time they tried to use them, only to feel awkward and clumsy on their face when they finally managed to grasp them.) And besides, it wasn’t just them. Icarus wasn’t entirely sure what kind of relationship Centross had with Enderian, but they suspected she wouldn’t take her prized player fraternizing with “the enemy” all that well, either, whether they were technically also one of her players or not. 

     The fact of the matter was that Icarus Gilded and Centross Mistvale were supposed to be reluctantly cordial at best and sworn enemies at worst, not lovers, not even friends, and especially not boyfriends . 

     Though…Fable did think that Icarus was still at school. They told him as much. And they were a pretty decent distance away, in an environment that was very pro-End U. If anywhere was going to be safe….

     The song ended, they tapped their earbuds to pause again, and nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard clapping behind them. 

     “Sorry Kiddo,” Frank chuckled when they whirled around to face him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

     “Ah, it’s fine.” Icarus assured and fished their earbud case out of their pocket, slipping their earbuds into it. “What’s…uh…what’s up?” They cringed internally. ‘What’s up?’ Really, Icarus? How informal can you get? 

     But Frank, as unsettlingly calm as always, just stood there smiling. “Those were some fine moves there. For only bein’ at it a few days, you’re pickin’ it up quick. I’m impressed!” 

     They couldn’t help but glow a little under the praise. “Thanks, I’m…trying.” 

     “Tryin’ and succeedin’.” Turning on his heel, he raised a beckoning hand to them. “C’mere, I got somethin’ for you.” 

     He waited for them to snatch up their phone off of the grass and led the way back around the garage and into it, right up to his workbench. On it, sat a pair of boots – old but obviously well-cared for, the kind of age that garnered respect and appreciation rather than judgment and dismissal, and a fresh shine to them like they’d been recently polished. By the rag and tin off to the side, Icarus guessed it was very recent. 

     “I wanted to lend these to you for the night,” Frank said, taking a boot by the heel and turning it so Icarus could better see the design along the side. “I call these my ‘date night boots,’ just a bit nicer than you’d wear every day. I figured we’re about the same height, we might be a similar size. I might’ve checked last night, and wouldn’t you know it. Polished ‘em up for you this mornin’; you’ll knock ‘em dead in these.” 

     Icarus stared. At Frank, at the boots, at the polish on the table. So many thoughts swirled through their head, but when they opened their mouth, only one came out. 

     “Why?” Immediately, they backpedalled. “I’m sorry, that was…sorry.” 

     Franklin chuckled again. It was a nice sound, they had to admit. Warm, pleasantly amused. And it never sounded mean, like he was laughing at you. Somehow it managed to sound reassuring. Inviting you into the joke, into the joy, encouraging you not to take yourself too seriously, to relax. 

     “It’s alright, it’s a fair question. I’ve only just met you, and until recently, you were the bane of my son’s existence. Why on earth would I be lending you my good boots?” His eyes shone with kindness. “Cause I believe you’re a good kid.” 

     Icarus was saying words before they could think. 

     “I’m not.” They needed to stop. “I’m a piece of shit.” Shut up. Shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup- “I’m rude and- and selfish , and aggressive, and I don’t care about anyone but myself, and I hurt people on purpose, and-” and I’m a carbon copy of my father in every wrong way.  

     At their hesitation, Frank held up a single finger to silence them, and on instinct their mouth snapped shut and they found themself standing just a bit straighter. Tensing. They said too much. They went too far. They argued. 

     Frank had the patience of a fucking saint. 

     “Maybe.” He spoke slowly, measured, each syllable enunciated clearly and purposefully. “But I’ve been watchin’ you. You might not have noticed, but I have. And I’ve seen you try. I’ve seen you stop yourself time and time again, reel yourself in, make good choices. And I see a good heart in there. Even if it’s buried under a lotta shit, it’s in there. I believe it is.

     “Nobody’s perfect. You ain’t, Cen ain’t, I ain’t, and as much as I like to say she is, because I love my wife dearly, Judi ain’t either. But, the good news is,” Frank tapped the table next to the boots, “you don’t gotta be perfect to deserve a good pair of boots to dance in.” 

     It didn’t make sense, he didn’t make sense, nothing was making sense. They weren’t good . They just weren’t. They were a liar, a fraud, a poor excuse for a son who couldn’t do anything right . They couldn’t even do the most basic task of staying undercover, playing a role, playing a part without ending up compromised, aka the one thing they’ve known how to do since they were a child . They couldn’t follow a simple direction, and in trying to have it all, they’d just dug themself so far into a hole they’d lost sight of the top; now they were being buried alive, and if they ever wanted to see the surface again they’d have to claw their way out with their bare hands. 

     And yet Frank was calling them good ? They were sitting on the muddy bottom as the soil rained down from the heavens and he thought they were good . 

     “Hey now, come back.” A quiet tapping on the workbench and the gentle call coaxed them out of their spiral, and they locked eyes with Frank, startled and suddenly very afraid to find their vision distorted by tears. Fuck, fuckfuckfuck no they couldn’t cry, not now. Not in front of him. “Listen to me, Icarus. Nobody expects you to be perfect.” Don’t, please. “Nobody expects you to have it all figured out or even to have any clue what you’re doin’.” I can’t. I can’t do this. “We want you to choose kindness, to choose love and empathy, but everybody needs to be reminded of that sometimes.” Icarus watched him raise a hand, slowly, carefully, making sure it stayed in their line of sight the whole time. They felt it settle on their cheek. Right below the scar. Felt his thumb brush over in with so much care . He couldn’t know, couldn’t possibly have the faintest idea what it was or where it came from. That his touch felt like an ice pack, a cold relief on the never-ending phantom sting that struck them all over again every time they thought of it. 

     Icarus choked out something, they weren’t certain what it was they were even trying to say, but it didn’t matter. Frank hushed them with that same gentle care. 

     “We aren’t lookin’ for anythin’ from you, Son. Just lettin’ us walk beside you and encourage you – that’s enough. You’re enough. You hear me?” 

     You’re enough.  

     You’re enough.

     That was the final straw. The tears sprang forth, and their body shook with the force of the sobs that escaped them. Frank opened his arms, asked, “Would you like a hug?” and something in them screamed . 

     “ Please-” 

     Hands gripped their biceps, pulled them close, and arms wrapped around them. Their own flung around his waist, clung to the back of his jacket. A hand settled on the back of their head, carded through their hair, while the other lay strong and steady on their back. Words whispered into their ear, repeating, again and again, “You’re enough.” “I’ve got you, Son.” “It’s alright. You’re alright.” 

     Their father never hugged them. Not since he would hold them as a baby. As soon as they could sit on their own, could walk, it had stopped. They figured he just wasn’t comfortable with touch, tried to believe it was okay, that they were okay without it, but now…Frank’s hug felt like safety. Like home. Like love . 

     They don’t know if they could go back to pretending to be okay without this. 

     Eventually, their tears ran dry. It’s painful, made them want to scream, but they pulled away from the hug, and Frank let them go. (They wish he wouldn’t.) They rubbed aggressively at their face, stammering out apologies, but Frank shook his head and raised a finger again, and they fell silent. 

     “None of that. You are always allowed to cry in this house, understood? No bottlin’ it up here.” They gave him a shaky nod, and he reached out to ruffle their hair playfully. “Now, why don’t you try these on, see how they feel?”  

     He handed them the boots, and with a light blush, they sat down on a nearby stool and pulled their shoes off, tugging the boots on in their place. They wiggled their toes inside for a second, and then stood, rocking back on their heels a few times and taking a couple steps forward and back. 

     “They’re…really good,” they admitted. 

     “Comfy? Think you can move alright?” 

     “Yeah.” 

     “Good. I’ve gone dancin’ myself in those before, so you shouldn’t have a problem with ‘em.” 

     Icarus was about to thank him, but when they looked up at him he was smiling at something behind them. They turned around to find Centross standing in the garage entrance with a familiar old football in hand and a gobsmacked look on his face. A look that immediately turned to concern the second they’re facing him. 

     “Hey,” he was at their side in an instant, setting the ball down on the workbench. “You okay?” 

     “Yeah.” They leaned into him and he understood the silent request immediately, a solid hand resting on the base of their spine. “I’m okay.” A quirked eyebrow indicated that he did not believe them, and they elaborated. “Needed it.” 

     It was still a bit too raw, a bit too vulnerable and fresh to explain to him, but they could always trust him to be patient and not to push, so they weren’t surprised when he just nodded and gave a quiet ‘okay.’ 

     He did, however, look down at the boots on their feet. “Those look familiar.” 

     Another low chuckle from Frank. “I can’t let them go dancin’ without a good pair of boots, now can I?” 

     The quarterback hummed, stepping back from Icarus. “C’mon now, give us a spin.” 

     “Cen they’re boots. ” 

     “And? Let me appreciate.” 

     With a roll of their eyes, they gave a dramatic spin, striking a pose. “How do I look?” Centross whistled. 

     “Stunning.” Icarus went a bit red, but grinned regardless. “Now you might wanna take those off so they don’t get dirty while we practice.” 

     The words caught them off guard. “Practice?” They echoed, and Centross reached past them to pick the football back up. 

     “Don’t want to get too rusty, do we?” 

     They bickered about it, of course, as they swapped the boots out for their normal shoes and Centross pumped more air into the football. Frank just watched, casually leaned up against the workbench. 

     “You should join, Dad.” Centross prodded him with the ball as he passed by. “It’s been a while.” 

     “It has,” the old man reached over to poke him back. “for a reason. This old shoulder just won’t hold up.” 

     “Come on, one pass?” In complete opposition to his behavior on their first night, Centross was all too willing to ignore ‘doctor’s orders’ if it meant a game of catch. He reminded Icarus of a little boy, holding the football out to his dad, eyes just begging him to play. They imagined Frank must’ve been imagining something similar, because he visibly melted , taking the ball. 

     “Alright, alright. I’ve got an idea.” 

     He shooed the two out of the garage onto the front lawn, and adjusted his hold on the ball. “Icarus,” he grinned at them, “don’t let him get it. Go long, Champ!” 

     In a millisecond Centross was taking off away from the house, before Icarus had the chance to even process the instructions. They yelled and sprinted after him, and once they were a ways away, Frank pulled his arm back with practiced ease, and with surprising strength for a man his age sent the ball flying with perfect rotation, at the perfect height for Centross to jump and catch it straight in the chest. Icarus was fast, but not quite fast enough, and they just barely didn’t make it in time – so instead they threw their arms around him and toppled him to the ground the second his feet touched back down, before he could properly brace himself. 

     They landed on top of him, chest heaving and blood pumping, exhilaration flooding their veins. They let their cocky smile out then, beaming with pride at being able to take the great Violet Reaper down. 

     “Alright, don’t let it go to your head,” the man beneath him snarked. Which of course only made them want to push . They tilted their head in mock-thought. 

     “I don’t know, I kinda like having you like this.” 

     Something dangerous flashed behind his eyes and sent a shiver down their spine. Before he could do anything, they rolled off of him and pushed to their feet, offering a hand to help him up, shit-eating grin immovably plastered to their face the entire time. 

     “....little shit,” he muttered and took their hand. Once they were both standing Icarus finally registered the raised voice coming from back toward the house, and looking over they saw Judi lecturing Frank, probably about his shoulder. He was, of course, just nodding and looking at her fondly, punctuated by a “Yes, Darlin’” or a “Of course, My Love” where appropriate, which Icarus could hear more clearly as they approached. 

     “I asked, Mom,” Centross explained, looking only a little contrite. Judi sighed, throwing up her hands. 

     “What am I going to do with you two,” she exclaimed in fond exasperation as she retreated back into the house. “Franklin, inside.” 

     “Yes, Dear.” Frank sent the two a wink. “Alright, you heard the coach. I’m back on the bench. You kids have fun, love you.” 

     He disappeared through the front door, but his words seemed to echo behind him long after he was gone. 

     ….there was no way. 

     That wasn’t for them. He wouldn’t say that to Icarus. That was clearly meant for Centross, his son . (But Centross wasn’t specified.) It wouldn’t be directed at them. (He said ‘you kids’ right before.) There was no way- 

     “Yeah it was.” 

     They stared at Centross with wide, confused eyes. “Huh? I didn’t–” 

     “No, but you have that look. He meant it for both of us.” 

     “I don’t have a….” Did they have a look? What did that even mean? “Whatever. He definitely did not -”

     “Trust me, he did.” He fiddled with the football as he spoke. “Frank loves easily, always has. And he’s never been shy to say it. If you’re important to someone important to him, he loves you, and he’ll tell you as much.” 

     …

     Icarus’ brain screeched to a halt. 

     Did he really just say that? 

     Other people had told them that they were important to him, but neither of them had. He’d never said it. They’d definitely never said it. The words felt like a gunshot ringing out across the countryside, a bullet neither of them could unfire. An admission neither could take back.

     Icarus’ back was pressed against the glass, more cracked than solid, feeling the pressure build on the other side and praying they could keep it together.

     After a second, it seemed Centross registered his own slip-up, and he paled. 

     “I- I mean-” they watched him backpedal, try to come up with anything to salvage the situation, watched the fear creep into his eyes- 

     They grabbed the ball. 

     “Are we practicing or what, Captain? ” They taunted as they walked backwards until they were a reasonable distance away for a passing drill. This is what they were good at. Distraction. Diversion. Forcing everyone involved to play along, pretending it never happened. Centross looked conflicted for a moment, before a similar mask slid over his own face and he took the bait. 

     “I better see perfect form, then.” 

     It took a few minutes for either of them to recover fully, but they fell back into their roles easily enough. Practiced, efficient. This is what they did: played football, messed around, and didn’t talk about it. This was comfortable. 

     Icarus hated how much they wanted more, but knew they couldn’t have it. 

     This would have to do. 

     They finished getting ready around sunset, which, being late fall, was still decently early. Centross had been ready for a bit now; his outfit wasn’t far from his usual attire anyway. A black t-shirt, maybe a bit tighter than he normally wore, his normal jeans, this time adorned with the belt he’d been given as a college-acceptance gift by his parents, sporting a large silver buckle with elytran wings engraved into it, a basic silver chain necklace, a couple matching rings, his boots, black-and-purple cowboy hat, and his leather riding jacket. For him, pretty standard. He was waiting in the kitchen for Icarus, who was still upstairs taking their sweet time getting ready, scrolling through some random social media app on his phone, catching up on his friends’ and partners’ posts. Ocie, Oscar, and Jerry had carved pumpkins, even though it was well after Halloween. Jamie and Athena made leaf cookies. Aax and Caspian went on a picnic date, though it was obvious there was a third person there since the photo was a candid of the two of them throwing leaves at each other on the gingham blanket. And the caption read “Thankful for my loves<3<3.” If their Rae was also Icarus’ Rae, it would make sense that they wouldn’t show him on social media. He doubted Fable would allow it, with how carefully he’d kept Rae out of the spotlight thus far.

     He’d done some searching on the Gilded family that afternoon. A large part of him felt guilty for it, snooping around for answers behind Icarus’ back, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling there was something important that he didn’t know about, something Icarus wasn’t telling him. And if it was public information, readily available on the internet, then hey, it was free game. Not that the internet actually helped. He’d found some old articles about Gilded Inc. and some interviews with the CEO, the rat bastard Fable himself, and only ended up wanting to drop kick the man even more than he already did. The most “useful” information came from the gossip columns of celebrity-drama-blogs, who theorized into the five-year-long legal battle between Fable and Isla Gilded, Isla trying for divorce and custody of their child (no mention of Rae), and how much of Isla’s resistance was due to her gradually worsening mental state. They called Fable the “perfect husband and father” for how he’d not only accepted her back even after such behavior, but paid for her treatment and stayed by her side even as she deteriorated. There were even several quacks claiming to diagnose her with everything under the sun. Altogether, it was frankly worth nothing, which left him solidly back at square one, forced to be content with whatever Icarus was willing to share. 

     Perhaps it was for the best. 

     The creaking of the stairs alerted him to someone else’s presence and he pocketed his phone just in time to see Icarus reaching the bottom. 

     Gods , they were gorgeous. 

     Their outfit wasn’t even that scandalous or elaborate, just a pair of jeans with a basic black belt, a baggy white sleeveless crop-top with some low-hanging necklaces and matching rings and earrings, and, of course, Frank’s boots. But they stole the air from his lungs and in that moment he didn’t care if he ever breathed again. 

     “Ready?” They asked, as if they hadn’t just tilted his entire world on its axis with their mere existence, and joined him at the kitchen counter. This close, their makeup was even more apparent, smoky eyeshadow with a light glitter making their eyes – golden, just like them – shine even brighter with a sultry, seductive flair that had him feeling faint . And oh , they were wearing that lip gloss again, the lightly tinted one that made their lips look fantastic around his-

     He cut that train of thought off fast before it could affect him any more than it already had. He did not need to be getting worked up in the middle of his parents’ kitchen. 

     Icarus studied his face, looking a little confused, before a sly smirk spread across their face. Ah shit. Perceptive motherfucker. He sometimes forgot they knew his body just as well.

     “What’s wrong?” Bracing their arms against the counter behind him, they caged him against it and leaned in, looking up at them through long, mascara-enhanced lashes. “Something the matter?” 

     Oh, two could play at that game. He settled his hands on their waist, lightly caressing the skin there with his thumbs. Their breath hitched, just ever so slightly, quiet enough that if he wasn’t paying attention, didn’t know them and how to draw a reaction out of them, he’d have missed it.

     “Mmm, no. Nothin’s wrong,” he crooned. Low and slow, purposefully turning his accent up a notch. Just the way he knew drove them crazy. “I’m just admirin’ the view.” 

     “Oh yeah? You like what you see?” 

     Using his grip on their waist, he pulled their body flush against his own. “Oh I’m lovin’ it .”  

     They tried to kiss him, then. It was a valiant effort. But he was just a bit faster, one hand shooting up to snatch hold of their chin and redirect their face to the side, leaning in to drop a teasing kiss just below their ear instead. They let out a small noise of startled surprise

     “Patience, Darlin’,” just for good measure, he dragged a thumb across their bottom lip before letting go of their chin and using the remaining hand on the waist to push them off of him as voices became audible outside. “We’ve got all night.” 

     With that, he left them at the counter, and exited onto the porch, just in time to see the Ordalls arriving in Morgan’s truck.

     (Well, it was hers now . She was the only one who used it anymore, and that was what mattered.) 

     “Hey, y’all ready?” Dio called, slipping out of the passenger’s seat. As usual, the had taken the opportunity to dress up - a tight-fitting crop top with flowy sleeves and low-rise flared jeans, and with their hat and boots they looked like a seventies cowgirl. He didn’t see Mei in the back, and was unsurprised when she popped up over the top of the truck, having ridden over in the bed. She was dressed in a flowy white and pink flower-patterened dress with a matching hat. 

     “Isn’t that dangerous?” Icarus called as they joined him on the porch. Dio shrugged and climbed the porch stairs, and Morgan coaxed Mei down from where she’d climbed onto the truck’s roof. 

     “What, Mei? Yeah, but that’s why we only let her on the short ride between houses.” The tallest of the group whistled low and raked their eyes over Icarus’ form. “Damn, Sweetheart, you’re lookin’ good !” 

     Centross narrowed his eyes at them. Icarus grinned. 

     “Thanks, Cen thought so too.” 

     Part of Centross was grateful that they were so out in the open so he couldn’t overreact as Dio stared him down with knowing eyes. Before they could start to taunt them, they got a light smack to the back of the head.

     “Hey, no gay shit before we even get there!” Morgan scolded. Her look was significantly darker than the other two, as to be expected, black ripped jeans with more hole than jean and a worn black Johnny Cash t-shirt. Her earrings were skulls, matching her belt and the band around her hat. “Good gods , you people are animals.” 

     “I second that!” Judi agreed, materializing in the doorway. “Now, y’all got what you need for tonight? Anybody need any pocket change? Advil just in case?” 

     Centross suddenly realized Icarus was no longer at his side, and he turned around to look for them, to see them striding down the driveway towards Mei. The teen was crouched down on the gravel petting Hope, and when she looked up at them, her smile was…wrong. Hesitant. 

     He only partially heard Judi’s usual safety brief, watching the two have a conversation he couldn’t hear. Mei brightened visibly, relaxed, and it ended with a fist bump and Icarus throwing their arm over her shoulders and leading her up towards the rest of the group.

     “It’s already six. We should head out,” Morgan glanced at her phone. 

     “Oh, well shoot you’re right.” Judi exclaimed, leaning back into the kitchen to check the clock on the wall. “Well then, don’t dilly-dally any longer. Mei, Honey, you got money for snacks?”

     “Ummmm-” Mei rifled around in her bag, and Icarus piped up before could could finish. 

     “I got her covered.” 

     Mei beamed at them. “Really??” 

     They squeezed the arm around her. “Yeah, I gotcha.” 

     “That’s real sweet of you, Icarus.” Judi smiled at them, then waved them all away. “Now go! Off my porch, shoo!”      

     Morgan and Mei climbed back into the truck while Dio retrieved their motorcycle out of the bed. Centross shoved Icarus into the spare leather jacket and saddled them up on his own motorcycle, and one after another, the group took off down the old dirt road towards town.

     Icarus understood Judi’s description of The Barn when Centross pulled into the parking lot of the large, rectangular building. It was quite literally on the “edge of town,” with civilization on one side and sprawling farmland that gradually turned into woods that stretched on as far as the eye could see. Many cars already sat parked outside, and even from the far end of the lot the music inside was still just barely audible, and it only grew louder as they all approached the doors. 

     “Ayyy, Centross!” The man at the door, a bouncer, presumably, gave the man a half-handshake half-bro-hug in greeting. “Good to see ya, man!” 

     “Howdy Nash. Good to be home.”

     Nash greeted Dio in much the same fashion, tilting his hat to Morgan and high-fiving Mei, who he also gave a paper wristband. 

     As they stepped through to the entrance hall, Icarus poked Centross. “What’s the wristband mean?” He looked back at Mei, and nodded in understanding.

     “It just means she’s under 18, and can’t stay past 9. The dance runs til midnight, but after 9 it’s… adult hours. Morgan’ll drive her home.” 

     “But then Morgan doesn’t get to stay? She’s our age.” Centross chuckled. 

     “She doesn’t want to, Ic, believe me. Night life ain’t her speed. Besides, she and Dio have an agreement that she can’t ‘mom’ them after 9, and she can’t help herself. It just works out for her to leave with the kids.” 

     They shrugged. They’d seen Morgan’s overprotective tendencies plenty in the last week; it was good for Dio to have time away to let loose without her hovering. “Fair enough. I half expected it to be an underage drinking thing.” 

     “Eh. Town as small as this, it’s not really needed. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows who’s old enough and who’s not. Worst case scenario someone shows up from outta town and they ask for ID.”

     “Ah. So fake IDs aren’t a thing around here.” 

     “Nah, you’re ass’d get called out immediately and someone in the bar’d be callin’ your parents. You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to try.” He held out a hand towards a pair of open double doors, people already visible milling about inside and music blasting. “Ready?” 

     Were they? 

     They took a deep breath.

     “Not getting any ready-er.” 

     Icarus Gilded had been to a few different types of event: 1) Dry-ass performative charity auctions, galas, and business dinners, 2) birthday parties intended more to show of wealth and/or success than they were to celebrate a person, 3) theme nights/holiday nights at the fancy high-security nightclub they frequented back home, 4) college parties thrown by trust-fund babies looking to climb the social ladder, and 5) intimate afterparties in someone’s bedroom or basement where only, like, five people and a blunt were invited.     

     This was nothing like any of those. The energy was fun and lighthearted, but not in the ‘college party’ way where everyone was more focused on getting drunk or high than anything. There was a bar, but there weren't too many people around it, everyone either mingling around the room, watching the dance floor, or on it. The dance floor was already active, a song Icarus didn’t recognize playing over large mounted speakers along the walls. Morgan and Mei snagged a spot on a bench along the wall for their stuff while Dio jumped into the crowd on the dance floor, joining the throng mid-song like they’d been there the whole time, getting a few high-fives and excited greetings. 

     Icarus already felt wildly out of their element. Centross nudged them with his shoulder. 

     “Wanna grab a drink and watch for a minute?” They nodded at him, grateful, sure their eyes were screaming save me at him. 

     It wasn’t a full-open bar, but that was alright. Centross ordered a beer and Icarus got a hard seltzer. Despite their reputation as a party animal, Icarus had to admit that it was mostly the alcohol. After a few drinks it became easier to let loose and be the “life of the party,” which is why they usually pre-gamed fairly hard. Without the booze already in their system, they had to acclimate to the unfamiliar environment much more slowly. Centross stayed by them the whole time, quietly nodding along to the music and hollering with the crowd when the songs ended. 

     After a few dances, though, they began to feel bad keeping him away. “You should go join,” they said, nudging him towards where Dio was. 

     “Are you ready?” He asked, and they forced a smile onto their face. 

     “I’m fine standing here until I am. Go, have fun.” 

     “I’m not just leaving you alone.” 

     Seeing they weren’t going to get past his stubbornness, they shot Dio a look over his shoulder. Within seconds, they were sneaking up behind him and throwing an arm around his shoulders, enthusiastically calling him to come dance with them, not letting him get a word in edgewise. They began dragging him towards the dance floor, Icarus leaning forward to give him a push when he dug his heels in. Finally, he relented, and let Dio pull him onto the floor as the next song started up. 

     Icarus had never thought of him as the dancing type, but they weren’t disappointed. He and Dio pushed each other around as the song began, an easy smile coming to his face. He moved with practiced ease through the steps, made it look simple. Where Dio added a lot of extra flair to each movement, Centross was calmer, smooth, casual, but still clearly having fun.

     They also couldn’t help but stare at the way his muscles showed through his shirt. 

     “Icarus!” 

     A hand grabbed their arm and they startled, and suddenly Mei was spinning them around. “Icarus Icarus Icarus they’re here they’re here -” 

     “Woah. Ok. Chill.” They carefully pried her hand off of their arm and held her by the shoulders. “Parker’s here?” 

     “Yeah, she just walked in, what do I do-”  

     “Where?”      

     Mei pointed towards the doors, where a small group of teenagers were taking off jackets and saying hi to the couple random adults in the immediate vicinity. Icarus recognized several of  them immediately – the cover band from the bar. They were also able to pick out which one was apparently “Parker” by the short, deep purple hair just long enough on top to fit in a french braid, revealing the undercut beneath. 

     Oh yeah, they’d be cute together. If Icarus wasn’t already invested, they were now. 

     “Okay, here’s what you’re gonna do.” They squeezed her shoulders. “You’re gonna wait for her to get settled. Don’t go in right away. Mingle a little bit, dance, have fun. Then, you’re gonna do just what I said: chat them up. Remember?” 

     Mei nodded, a bit frantically, brushing her hair out of her face and taking what they figured was supposed to be a deep breath but came out as more of a panicked wheeze. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. Eye contact, necklace…uh, confidence, ask questions, and be nice, and ask her to dance.” 

     “Perfect. You got this, Girl.” 

     Mei nodded, taking another shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I got this. 

     “You got this.” 

     “I got this!” 

     Mei hovered around the dance floor for a while, staring maybe a bit more than probably necessary at the target of her interest, but they’d cut her some slack. She was only fourteen. ‘

     Icarus remembered how old Rae was when he had his first crush. He was ten, and completely taken with a boy at school. He’d tried to ask them about it, much like Mei had; it…hadn’t gone well. They’d laughed in his face. Not laughed like they had with Mei, but cruel, mean, with intent to belittle and to hurt. 

     ‘You really think anyone would ever like you ?’ 

     They winced. They could do better, this time. They would do better this time. 

     A few moments passed, and Mei finally gathered the courage to go up and speak to Parker by the bar, where the group of teenagers had migrated to get sodas. In a very good sign, the guitarist’s face lit up upon seeing her, and they immediately excused themself from the conversation with their bandmates to face her. Mei was fidgeting, obviously nervous, more so than Icarus would’ve advised, but she was smiling. Parker was smiling. Their conversation was fluid, unbroken, and flowed naturally between them. 

     All good signs. 

     They could pinpoint the exact moment Mei made up her mind as the DJ announced the next song, and Parker’s expression changed to one of surprise, before that grin was solidly back in place. She nodded, and leaned over to push her soda can towards their friends, saying something to them and receiving several nods and a thumbs up. 

     Icarus had never felt prouder than they did watching those two on the dance floor.

     I did it, Mom.

     They felt a presence creep up behind them, and craned their neck to see. Centross was standing with narrowed eyes at the dance floor. 

     “Hey.” They warned, turning around to poke him firmly in the chest. “You leave them be. Mei’s been waiting for this all week and you are not ruining it for her!” 

     He huffed. “Was this what she was talking to you about?” 

     “Maybe. Because she worried somebody would be all threatening and overprotective and scare them off.” They looked the captain up and down pointedly, particularly at his crossed arms. He sighed, relaxed, and let them drop. “She’s fourteen, Cen.” 

     “I know, I know.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’ll be nice.” 

     “Good.” At that moment, the DJ announced the next song. It was one they knew. Still riding the high of a successful match made, they decided why not follow their own advice? “Wanna dance?” 

     He blinked in surprise and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Wanna give it a go?” 

     “I might know this one.” They reached out a took hold of his arm. “C’mon, Cowboy. Show me what you got.”

     It was exhilarating . Surrounded by people doing the same moves, cheering, laughing, and just having fun , it was far too easy to get lost in the music, in the crowd, not having to stand out, to show off. Just existing . 

     They’d always loved being on the dance floor, but usually, they’d have more than just one drink in their system by the time they started. But as the song came to an end, and Centross asked them how they felt, how they liked it, they were able to say without a moment's hesitation that they loved it . 

     And when he offered to get them another drink, they even said no. 

     Hours passed like that. Some songs they knew, some they didn’t, but they found it much easier than they’d expected to pick up the pattern on the sidelines. Nine o’clock came and went, and the kids and their chaperones (and Morgan) took their leave. 

     It was just Icarus, Centross, and Dio now. And even stone-cold sober, their confidence was rising. 

     Fuck their father. Fuck him, fuck hiding, and fuck being afraid. 

     They scanned the crowd for Dio, and found them standing by the DJ with a drink in their hand. As soon as they made eye contact, they sent the other a meaningful nod. 

     Dio grinned like a madman . They leaned against the DJ’s table, draped themself over it, and whispered something in his ear. The poor guy turned bright red, head whipping around to stare at      them with wide eyes, and when Dio said something else they nodded so hard Icarus was worried he’d give himself whiplash.      

     Seconds later, they heard the announcement. 

     “Aaaaaaalrighty folks, next song up is a crowd favorite! You know it, you love it, so get on down to the floor for ‘Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy!’” 

     The Barn erupted into excited hooting and hollering. Without a word, Icarus was snatching Centross by the hand and dragging him into the middle of the floor, catching the man completely off guard. The music started, the beat echoing through the room so loud they could feel it in their chest, feel it through the floor. 

     They flipped their hair back, letting the energy and adrenaline fuel them the way the alcohol would have. It was time for their favorite part of any night out.

     Time to show off. 

 

     “Cause I saddle up my horse and I ride into the city

     I make a lot of noise 'cause the girls, they are so pretty

     Riding up and down Broadway on my old stud Leroy

     And the girls say

     ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy!’

     Everybody says

     ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy!’”

 

     And show off they did. They turned their charm right up to eleven, that pure dose of golden-boy-charisma that had anyone they wanted eating out of the palm of their hand. They weren’t unknown , here. Small town or not, the vast majority of the people in the room were End U football fans, for no other reason than one of their own was the team’s youngest captain in fifty years, and the most successful probably ever . 

     They felt the eyes on them, heard the whistling, the hollers. They noticed the way the other dancers hyped them up. The two gals flanking them even shifted to give them more space. And they were eating it up, of course, they’d never say no to praise and admiration. But for the first time in their life, they had a higher priority. 

     The way Centross’ eyes never left them. He knew something was up. It was now or never.

     Fuck hiding.  

     On the next turn, Icarus striked. In one smooth motion they snatched the cowboy hat from Centross’ head and backed up, putting distance between them as the beat dropped into the final chorus. 

     His jaw dropped . The Barn exploded in noise, in exclamations of shock and disbelief. Icarus could’ve sworn they heard Dio above it all: 

     “YEAH, BITCH! AND THAT’S HOW IT’S DONE!”  

     The dancers next to them gave them twin high fives on the next turn, and they grinned like a maniac. The dance wound down, and at the final line, the chorus rose up from the entire Barn. 

     “Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” 

     The partygoers on the sidelines erupted in applause, and Icarus looked back to Dio, who raised their glass to them, then their eyes locked on something behind them. Before they had time to react they were spun around, and came face-to-face with a heaving, pissed-off Centross. 

     Except, they knew him a bit too well for that, didn’t they? Looking closer, they saw the truth. It wasn’t anger. 

     It was lust. 

     Their heart pounded in their chest. 

     The next moment, their jacket was being thrown in their face and they were dragged out of the hall by a vice-like grip around their wrist and out of the building, past the bouncer and into the parking lot. 

     “C-Centross!” They called as they were violently shoved towards the motorcycle. 

     “Put your jacket on.” 

     His voice sounded unlike anything Icarus had ever heard from him before, reaching a deep register they didn’t know he was capable of. Their words were torn from their throat, leaving them hoarse. 

     Their legs already beginning to shake, they pulled the jacket over their arms, yelping when rough hands grabbed the front of it and pulled them closer. He zipped it up and shoved the bike helmet over their head, forcing their head up to buckle it. 

     “C-Ce-” 

     “ Shut up.” He pulled harshly on the helmet in warning, and they had to brace their hands against his chest to keep from falling forward. Hands that balled into fists to hide their trembling. Finally, the helmet was secure, and they were being picked up in much the same way he’d done so that very first time they’d rode together and set on the back of the bike. They flung their arms around his waist as soon as he was on, hiding their face in his back as he revved the engine and took off. 

     They recognized the Jackson/Ordall farm, but not for long. Centross turned off the main road onto a small, hidden dirt path through the woods, finally coming to a stop in a small clearing by a small creek occupied by a large shed-like structure.

     He yanked his own helmet off and let it fall to the ground, getting off the bike, taking hold of the back of their jacket and pulling them off as well. 

     “Centross, what-” 

     The man said nothing, just dragged them to the shed and yanked open the door, throwing them inside. They would’ve managed to stay on their feet, if it weren’t for the copious amounts of blankets and pillows and other bedding covering the floor, and their foot got caught up in a large knit duvet and they tumbled to the cushioned floorboards. 

     The managed to roll onto their back with just enough time for Centross to drop to a knee above them, a hand making its way into their hair and pulling , forcing their head back to an almost uncomfortable degree. 

     “You think you’re so slick, huh?” He growled out, every muscle pulled taught as a bowstring, poised to strike, to pounce. “Thought you’d put on a little show?” 

     ‘you want that man to fuck you like a wild fuckin’ animal?’  

     ..shit. They knew what Dio meant, now. And oh, how they wanted . 

     Their tongue darted out to lick their lips, locking eyes with him. 

     “It worked, didn’t it?” 

     The low grumble that earned in reply had them clenching their thighs together as their desperation grew. 

     Letting go of their hair, Centross sat up to pull his shirt over his head, throwing it aside. In the moonlight streaming through the windows, he looked a god.  

     Icarus needed him.  

     “ Please-” 

     His lips were on theirs before they could finish begging. They might as well have not been wearing a shirt with how easily he pushed it up their chest, rough hands claiming every inch of their skin, rolling their nipples between his fingertips as they stiffened in the cold, swallowing the sounds the action elicited. Their nails scratched along his back, adding their own angry red artwork against his tapestry of scars. They hardly noticed him shift until there was a knee bullying its way between their legs, forcing itself right where they wanted it, where they needed it. 

     They broke the kiss with a gasp, hips already moving without a second thought, seeking friction however they could get it. 

     “ Centross-!”

     “Dio wants to get involved again?” He pressed his leg up harder, and they sobbed - “Thinks it’s funny to use you against me?” 

     He made quick work of their belt, shucking off their pants before they could even blink . He reached over to a box off to the side, so familiar with the space that the darkness had no effect on his ability to locate exactly what he was looking for. He’d done this here many times before, and as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they began to get a much better sense of where he’d brought them. 

     The nest of bedding on the floor, the boxes of… supplies around the room, the occasional back of cigarettes, an empty bottle or two-

     This was a sex den. 

     And Icarus had a fairly solid idea whose it was.

     They didn’t get to see what it was he’d grabbed, distracted the second he returned and started kissing and biting down their body. 

     “They want to put you in their place so badly?” A hard bite to their inner thigh had them crying out. “ I’ll fuck you in their hideout.” 

     They didn’t get the chance to process the words before his mouth was between their legs. 

     And they wouldn’t be able to process much of anything for hours.

     They didn’t sleep in the shed. Centross had made a point of that, re-dressing them afterward and driving them back to the Jackson house, cleaning them up a bit and tucking them both into bed in his own clothes. Between five hours of dancing and everything else , Icarus slept like a baby.

     That was, until their phone rang and woke them up. 

     They groaned, reaching out for the thing and fully intending to send whoever the fuck it was to voicemail, but they happened to catch sight of the contact name before they could hit decline.

     It was Rae. 

     They were a little more awake, then. 

     Rubbing their bleary eyes, they leaned as far away from Centross as they could with his arms still wrapped about their torso and put the phone to their ear. 

     “Rae? What- it’s like, five in the morning-”

     “Icarus, it’s mom.” 

     They sat abruptly upright, dislodging the arms around them and drawing a low groan from the man beside them as he was jolted awake. 

     “What?” 

     “Something happened, she’s in the hospital. It’s bad. You need to get here, now.” 

     ..No. 

     No no no no no–

     Swinging their legs over the edge, they grabbed whatever clothes they found first and ripped Centross’ shirt off. 

     “I’m coming, I’m coming I’ll be there as soon as I can – shit, is she at least stable?” 

     “Barely. She went into the OR the second she got here. I’ve…I’ll explain more when you get here. Just… hurry , okay?” 

     “Yeah.” They nearly fell over forcing their legs into their jeans. Behind him, Centross was sitting up, frowning, wide awake now from their obvious panic. “I’ll see you soon.” 

     They hung up before Rae could respond and started throwing their shit in their suitcase. Centross watched them with growing concern. 

     “What’s wrong?” 

     Icarus was shaking so hard they couldn’t get their suitcase to zip up. “I need to go I need to -” 

     “Hey, hey.” Centross was out of bed, kneeling next to them, his hand covering theirs on the zipper. “Deep breath. Talk to me.”

     “It’s…it’s my mom, she’s in the hospital, something’s gone wrong – I don’t…I don’t know –”

     “...shit.” The captain pulled their hand off the zipper and finished it for them, pulling them off the ground and standing it up. “I’ll drive you.” 

     “N–” they started to protest, he couldn’t come, their father would be there, he’d know …but….

     He’d already know something was wrong when it took them far longer to arrive than it should’ve. And they couldn’t drive, so they really didn’t have much of a choice. 

     (And maybe they wanted him there. They were terrified. They were scared and god damn it they needed him .) 

     They had all of their things and a bag for Centross packed up and in the back of the truck in a matter of minutes, only stopping to briefly explain the situation to Judi who, despite their attempts to be quiet, had still woken up. Even after all these years, she was still a terribly light sleeper. 

     “I’m so sorry, Baby.” She gave Icarus the biggest hug. “Call us if you need anythin’ , do you hear me? It’s been so lovely havin’ you, and I’m so so sorry this is happenin’. Give Rae our number too, please, and tell him he can call us too.” 

     She gave Centross a large travel mug of coffee on the way out the door and a couple granola bars for them both, and they took off. Centross drove as fast as he could without getting pulled over. It was silent. Icarus tried to text Rae, tried to get him to tell them more about the situation, but even when they did have cell service he remained stubbornly silent except to say he’d tell them when they arrived. 

     They didn’t ask their father. 

     (They didn’t hear a word from him the entire drive.)

     Finally, after an eternity spent spiraling deeper and deeper into their own head, thinking about all the things that could’ve gone wrong, all the possibilities they could’ve missed, Centross pulled into the hospital Rae had directed them to. 

     Icarus was out of the truck and sprinting towards the hospital before the thing even came to a complete stop, Centross hot on their heels soon after. They all but collide into the reception desk, scaring the poor receptionist half to death. 

     “Oh, my, can I hel-” 

     “Isla Gilded.” Icarus interrupted, in that moment not giving a single fuck if it was rude. Since she didn’t immediately recognize them, they figured she was new, and they didn’t have time for introductions. “Where is she?” 

     The receptionist looked like she was about to ask them to calm down, to start on some script, but paused at the name. 

     “Gilded?” 

     “Yes , that’s what I said, isn’t it? Where. Is. She.”

     “I- I’m afraid Isla Gilded isn’t allowing visitors at this time-” 

     “Like HELL she isn’t I’m her SON! ” 

     Their voice carried across the waiting room as all other conversations fell silent, and the receptionist paled. Centross stepped forward to lay a hand across the back of their neck, pressing down, squeezing lightly, just as much to ground them as it was a warning . The touch felt like a bucket of ice dropped over their head. 

     “I- fuck , sorry, just- I’m Icarus Gilded and I need to see her.” Their voice wasn’t much politer and their apology was strained at best, but they were quieter, and the hand on their neck shifted to lightly rub the tensed muscles of their back before it dropped away completely. 

     (They wanted it back.) 

     “Right, I’m so sorry!” The receptionist squeaked and typed away at her computer for a moment. “She’s in room 317, third floor-”

     They were taking off before she could even finish the directions. Centross never stayed more than two feet behind them the entire way, dead silent. 

     They even took the stairs . They didn’t have time to wait for the elevator. 

     When they threw the door to 317 open, the first thing they saw was their mother’s dangerously thin, sickly pale frame on the bed, the thin hospital blanket looking far too large and heavy atop her than it was supposed to. She was covered in tubes and wires with a breathing tube down her throat, the quiet beeping of the heart monitor the only sign of life. Rae sat at her bedside, one of her tiny hands in his, and when he looked up at them, his eyes were empty. 

     But they couldn’t ignore the man standing in the middle of it all, attention locked onto Icarus like a heat-seeking missile the second they entered.

     “Icarus.” Their father’s voice was cold. Tight. “You should have been here hours ago.” 

     Their teeth clenched, and they were suddenly all too aware of the room around them – the door behind them, Centross still in the doorway. Three windows. A door behind their father, likely an ensuite. Two tables on either side of the bed. Two hospital chairs by the bedside and two cushioned chairs by the far window. A loveseat. 

     “Traffic.” They forced out. Their father’s eye twitched. 

     “I find that hard to believe.” He looked past them, then, making direct eye contact with Centross in the doorway. “I am disappointed to see I was not misinformed.” 

     Fuck. 

     No.

     Icarus felt their blood run ice cold. “W-what?” 

     Their father glared at Centross. “I think Mr. Mistvale should wait outside for this conversation.” Centross ground his teeth. 

     “I think the fuck not.” 

     “This is a personal family matter, Mistvale -”

     “He stays.” Icarus cut him off, stepping into their father’s line of sight, forcing him to look at them . “Centross stays.” 

     He pursed his lips. “Fine. If you want him to see you scolded like a child , that’s your decision. You didn’t think your little excuse about staying at school was that believable, did you? I raised you smarter than that, Icarus. No, I know all about your little field trip to the countryside.” 

“ How ?” 

     “I think that should be obvious; I had Boyde go to the school, and when you weren’t there, told him to find you.” Icarus’ jaw dropped. 

     “You sent the fucking P.I . after me?!” 

     “What was I supposed to do, Icarus? You were lying to me! I couldn’t just let you run off god knows where, what if something happened?” 

     They couldn’t believe this. They honest-to-gods couldn’t believe him. They were an adult , they were twenty-fucking-five years old and instead of letting them have even the smallest bit of privacy to make their own decisions their father had sent his personal private investigator after them. 

     (They were beginning to realize it might not be normal that he even had a private P.I.) 

     “You what ?” Centross finally stepped into the room, disbelief and rage visibly brewing in him. “I’m sorry, you sent a P.I. after your twenty-five year old adult. son. because you were pissy that he didn’t want to spend another school break with you?” 

     “I agreed for you to be in the room, Mistvale, but I draw the line at interference. If you cannot hold your tongue I will have you escorted off the premises.” 

     “Dad!” 

     “You’re a coward , Fable. You hide behind your power and your money so that you don’t have to take accountability for your actions but I see right through you .” 

     “Stand down , or I will call security!” 

     “Both of you, stop!” 

     At Icarus’ cry, both men turned to look at them. If they were shaking before, they looked like they might fall to pieces under the force of their trembling now. “Centross please go outside.” 

     The quarterback stared at them like he was trying to see into their head, hear their thoughts. “I don’t like this.” Damn him and that voice. That soft, careful voice. “But if you’re sure.”

     No . “Yes.” Please don’t go. “Please leave.” I need you please don’t leave me.

     Centross looked like he’d rather throw himself off the tallest cliff and impale himself on a spike at the bottom, but he nodded. 

     “...okay.” 

     The sound of the door closing echoed like a bomb . 

     They met their father’s eyes. 

     They’d never seen them so cold. Like knives aimed right at them. 

     “I’m disappointed, Icarus.” 

     Stab . 

     “I thought I could trust you with this.”

     Stab . 

     “I’ve given you so much, allowed you so much freedom, and this is how you repay me?” 

     Stab. 

     “I’ve humored your little hobby . I’ve graciously let you choose a path other than the one I specifically designed for you. And you betray me.” 

     Stab.

     “You lie to me.”

     Stab.

     “I give you one condition, just one, to pursue this little dream of yours, and you can’t even do that.”

     Stab. Stab. Stab.  

     “I’m sorry-” their voice comes out as barely a whisper, hoarse, meek, pathetic. They stare at the floor. Tears welling in their eyes. 

     “I’m not sure you are .” Footsteps. The immaculately polished, pristine luxury shoes coming into view and stopping in front of them. “But if you are. Whatever this little game you’re playing with that boy will end today. You will finish out your year, and you will come home .” 

     Their head shot up, horror and terror filling their body. “But– Dad, what about football, and my internship, a-and grad school–” 

     “It was a mistake to let you get this invested in the first place. I need you home, Icarus. You have a responsibility to the company, to our family . And as for football–” he sighed. “I will just have to make other arrangements. The Overworlders will have our victory some other way, without your…missteps.” 

     They looked desperately over to Rae, whose face was turned away from them, his fists clenched. He no longer held Isla’s hand. He was trembling, too. 

     Rae….

     There had to be a way out of this. They couldn’t watch everything they’d worked so hard on - both of them -for so long crash and burn. 

     …They knew what they had to do. Their heart screamed, cried, crawled up their throat and begged for them to reconsider, but it was their only choice. 

     They had to save her. They had to save Rae. 

     They were the one who broke everything. They had to fix it.  

     Icarus took a deep breath. 

     Centross…I’m so sorry. 

     “Ok. I’ll end things with Mistvale.” The words felt like acid on their tongue. “And- and I’ll give up on grad school. I’ll come back home. I’ll…I’ll be the heir you wanted.” 

     For the smallest of moments, they saw their father’s mask slip, and his expression was one of pride, of victory , of arrogance. They hated that they recognized it. 

     “I’m glad to hear you’re making the right decision.” He nodded towards the door. “Go, do it now.” 

     They felt sick. Like a puppet on a string, they turn around without a thought and exit the room. Centross is standing in the hallway. 

     He’s at their side immediately .

     “Hey!” he reaches out to them, to cup their face. They smack his hand away, and he startles. “What–”

     “I’ve been lying to you.” 

     They can hear how flat their voice has become. The way their face twists and contorts into a mask that no longer fits. Centross frowns. 

     “What do you mean? What happened in there? What did he say to you?”

     “Nothing. Just…a change of plans.” He tried to reach for them again, but they pushed him away. “Stop.” 

     “Ic, something’s wrong, I can tell–” 

     “What’s wrong is that I’ve had you fooled this entire time.” Once, the sneer that spread across their mouth would’ve felt normal, familiar. Now it just felt wrong . “Did you know my dad gave me one condition to transfer? Just one. Worm my way into the football team, cement myself as a useful asset, and when the two teams come head-to-head, when it really matters, be the perfectly placed ‘weak link’ to send the Elytras toppling down.” They crossed their arms and tilted their head in mocking amusement. “I found a pretty good in, I gotta say. You were remarkably easy after I got you in bed that first time.”  

     Centross stumbled backwards, emotions flashing across his face, disbelief, confusion, hurt, betrayal, anger, before it all settled into the last emotion they expected. 

     Worry. 

     “This is what you weren’t telling me.” Gods, he sounded so pained . Their soul ached . “I knew there was something. You kept pulling away, like…you didn’t think…Ic you don’t have to go through with it.” 

     …What? 

     They almost lost their mask. That was… not the reaction they were expecting. He wasn’t cooperating. 

     They had to go harder.

     Forgive me –

     They scoffed. “I’m sorry, I just told you I’ve been playing you for months, being your little sex doll and getting you to like me only to rip the rug out from under you when you least expect it. And you…Oh, Honey… don’t tell me you thought any of that was real . That I was actually gaining a conscience ! Oh you are so much stupider than I thought.” 

     Centross laughed. Dry, humorless, looking absolutely dumbfounded. “Of course I do. I know you.” 

     “You don’t.” 

     “I do. ”

     “You know my body. Not me.” 

     “I know you have nightmares every night unless you have someone else sleeping with you. I know you hate the taste of coffee but used to drink it because you thought it made you look ‘grown-up.’ I know you have a favorite hoodie that you only wear inside your dorm because you’re terrified of it getting ruined if you wear it outside.” 

     “Stop-” 

     “I know the only reason you know how to set a table is because you’ve been going to formal dinners your whole life. I know you were forced to take piano lessons as a kid, but they let you stop after you made the eighth teacher quit. I know you hate every kind of licorice unless it’s the bullshit fancy kind. And I know you lie awake at night regretting every time you ever hurt someone and wondering why you’ve never felt that guilt before.” 

     “Stop, don’t, you don’t get to-” 

     “I know you hate yourself.” He’s come closer now, and even as they tried to push him away, he forced himself into their space. “You fucking hate who you’ve become and want nothing more than to change. I know you do . This past week? There’s no faking that.” They don’t manage to stop him in time before he’s cupping their face in his palms, forcing them to look at him. “And don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. You’re not some sex doll. You’re not a toy, a tool, something to use . You are worth so much more than that. You're worth so much more to me." His forehead dropped to theirs. Their heart begged them to lean into it, to let him, and just that moment's hesitation was enough. "Icarus, despite my better judgement, I have fallen completely, utterly desperately in love with you.”

     “Don’t- ” 

     “And I think you have, too.” 

     “Shut the fuck up –”

     “And I might be wrong, but I don’t think you actually want this. I think you’re scared. I think he said something to you, threatened you, I don’t know. But this doesn’t feel right.” 

     “I SAID SHUT UP!” 

     Adrenaline pumping through their veins, in a pure panic, they shove so hard against his chest to send him flying back almost to the opposite wall. They were cracking, they could feel it. He was too close, too close to the truth, too close to them. They couldn’t break. Not now. 

     They had to end this fast. 

     “You need to leave.” 

     Icarus could barely stand to look at him, the way he looked back at them, eyes begging them to let him in, to say those words back, the ones they so desperately wanted to say. 

     “Icarus-” 

     “ Leave. ” 

     He inched forward. Slowly. Cautiously. 

     “I will,” another step forward, “but you have to say it.” 

     “Say what. ” 

     “That you don’t love me.” He sounded wrecked , like he might start crying any second. They weren’t too far from it, either. “Say it, and I’ll leave.” 

     But I do love you. 

     I love you so much. 

     But I can’t have you . 

     I love you. 

     I love you.

     “I don’t.” 

     Something broke in his eyes, then, the sadness and despair replaced with a flickering fire, tongues of furious flames licking at his irises. They hadn’t seen that in a long time. Since the first time, in that locker room, so many months ago. 

     How much things had changed since then. 

     He didn’t say another word, just turned on his heel and stormed down the hall towards the exit. Their brain not letting them process what had just happened, they re-entered room 317. 

     “Is it done?” No ‘are you okay,’ no check-in, no concern. Just cold efficiency. 

     They nodded numbly. “It’s done.” 

     Fable hummed in satisfaction and patted Icarus’ shoulder on his way past. “Good. I’m going home. Rae, come along. You’ve had her long enough, give Icarus a turn.” 

     He left the room, and Rae stood from his chair. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and then he was moving. 

     “I don’t know what else I expected,” was all he said, and then he was leaving too. Icarus sunk down in the vacant chair at their mother’s bedside. 

 

     And they broke.

 

     I’m so sorry. I love you. Please come back.

Notes:

Onto Arc 3 we go.

 

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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Touchdown On You - Prison Duo College Football AU