Chapter Text
When Fitz was younger, maybe eight or so, there was a time where he had wondered what it would be like to have someone come to him for any trivial matters—for example, crushes! He had imagined himself a much older him (fifteen, perhaps) offering wise, mature, and fail-proof advice to his younger (older-version) sister. He remembered picturing her smiling in joy when she easily got the guy she wanted with his advice. Of course, she would thank him over and over again, and he would play it off like no big deal, but that was his egotistical imagination working overtime back then. Eight-year-old him had wondered if fifteen-year-old him would be just as protective over her just as he is now, even though she couldn't really like anyone yet.
… Can six year olds have crushes?
Fitz didn't really want to think about it at the time; it had been a thought five-year old him did not like to imagine. He had pondered if Alvar thought the same of him at some point, but his brother had never seemed to be interested with what girls Fitz would come to eventually like—or well, Alvar never did clearly express any concern about it, but maybe he had been interested? It was a bit much for eight-year old him to think of his brother like that at the time, so he hadn't dwelled on it for long.
Back then, Biana had been six, so younger-Fitz assumed he didn't have much to worry about until he was older. Though, as time went on, she never did seem to express any interest towards any of the boys at Foxfire. While he had been a little bummed out back then, he had to simply accept he wouldn't be able to interrogate any partners anytime soon. (Not only because of her not liking anyone, but also the fact they were all teens continuously involved in a rebellion group and going through active fights.
So that was that).
Fitz figured he didn't have to fuss over her romantic endeavors when it inolved her; he could trust that she knew what her worth was and get with someone who she deserved…
… and was matchable with her, of course.
That was an important factor.
That, and for love.
Present Day
Pounding on his door had woken him up.
Fitz had been peacefully dozing off, slumped against the desk in his room. He blearily opened his eyes, blinking away the exhaustion as he sat up and took note of his surroundings: his room, dimly lit and organized, but "messy enough" (quote, Keefe) to look like it was lived in, and a desk with a small, neat stack of homework he had completed. Now that he remembered about the homework, he realized a paper was stuck to his cheek, and he slowly pried it and set it on the table.
BANG BANG BANG.
Ah, right. The pounding that had woken him up.
"Fitz! Wake up!"
His eyebrows furrowed. Surely there was nothing worrying enough for someone to pound on his door like that. He felt a flash of panic; what if something worrying did happen, and he had been just too deep in sleep to realize it? All he wanted was to take a small break! (Though, later, he would come to realize that sleeping slumped against his desk wasn't the best for his back). Was a short break too much to ask for? Speaking of breaks, what time was it? He hadn't slept for long, right?
"It's literally only a quarter til twenty! You're going to be awake all night if you're still asleep. I swear to the stars if you're asleep now of all times!—"
"Biana, what do you want?" he asked, interrupting her trail of words; he was already feeling exasperated. He just woke up. Please cut him some slack. "If you're just going to yell at me for sleeping, then you can leave."
Biana, in fact, did not leave. Rather, she barged into his room the moment he finished speaking and gracefully flopped down onto his bed. "But it's important!"
"How important?" he asked incredulously, turning around in his chair to look at her with an unimpressed look.
"Fitz-should-know-ASAP-or-he'll-be-mad-at-himself-for-not-listening-because—"
"Biana," Fitz cut in and tightly closed his eyes, turning back around to face his desk. He was fighting the urge to drag her out of his bed and close the door just so he could focus. He truly loved and adored his sister, but sometimes he hated how she assumed things like that very quickly, and how she was right a majority of the time. He would probably be mad at himself later for not listening, especially since nowadays, he was trying to be like an actual older, better brother. (Unlike someone, cough cough). Though, she didn't have to word it like that.
He sighed, reopening his eyes and stared down at the blank paper in front of him. He realized he might've come off a little too strong and felt a small pang of guilt; Biana probably didn't mind since it was how they bickered all the time back then, but still.
After everything that happened…
"Okay, yeah. What could you possibly have to tell me?" he asked, shaking the thought out of his head. He would not go down that path—not today. He just woke up, and everything was okay and fine and over. It wasn't something he was going to panic over.
Silence.
Fitz waited.
"Are you asle—"
"I like someone," she suddenly blurted, and it caught him off guard. He flinched, opening his mouth to lightheardedly scold her for scaring him like that before he froze. The words that flew out of her mouth was finally comprehending in his brain, and he snapped his mouth shut. He whipped his head around, looking at her with astonishment. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seemingly struggling to grasp a coherent sentence to say.
He probably looked stupid.
At that thought, he kept his mouth shut, staring at her with wide eyes. Biana had her face buried in her hands, but he watched as she peeked at him to gauge his reaction through the cracks of her fingers.
"Well, don't just sit there!" she exclaimed, immediately sitting up and raised her hands in exasperation before letting them fall. She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and both somewhat fond and annoyed eyes. (If he didn't know better, he would say offended). "Say something!"
"Well, what do you want me to say?"
"Fitz, you cannot be serious right now. Please tell me that you're joking. Did you never think about this?"
"Well—" Fitz froze and shook his head, but more to himself than as an answer to Biana's question, and also to snap out of it. He looked at her again, but did his very best to look a little less baffled. "Well."
"Well what."
"Well!…"
"Oh my stars—Fitz, you're horrible at this!—"
"Who is he?" he abruptly asked, realizing that it was probably what he was supposed to ask the moment she dropped that bomb on him. She shot him an unimpressed look, and he had the decency to give her a sheepish smile.
She stretched back on his bed, leaning back on her arms. She looked off to the side for a moment, as if she was thinking about whether to tell him or not. Considering the mischievious glint in her eyes, Fitz could safely assume that she was seriously thinking about not telling him. Valid, considering his reaction just moments earlier, but still! Give him a break!
"Biana."
"Why should I tell you?"
"You—you just barged into my room!" Fitz stammered, huffing as he shot her a glare. "You said it was so important; what's the point of coming in here if you're not going to tell me who he is?"
"Well, I said that it was important, and it appears that I've just told you," she calmly explained, as if she was speaking to a toddler. The utter nerve. Though, he supposed he had it coming. "I never implied that it included me telling you who it was. Maybe I would've told you if you had just acted accordingly."
"You surprised me! I was going to say something if you just gave me a few more moments to process!—"
"Don't even start! You clearly already proccessed the news completely, but all you had to say was 'well… well! well?'" she said, doing an impression of his voice which sounded nothing like him, thank you very much, which he decided to voice aloud.
"That sounds nothing like—… me." His voice trailed off, and he narrowed his eyes. He was a bit offended, honestly. More at the fact she thought she could swiftly change the topic like that, and not at that awful impression of him. "You're changing the topic."
"Am not." She huffed, crossed her arms, and turned away.
"Are too."
"Am not!"
"Are too!—Biana." He glared at her. It was times like these was when he remembered how they bickered when they were younger. At the memory, his expression softened. When she didn't look at him, he stood up and moved to his bed, sitting down on the edge next to her. He tried again. "Biana."
He could see her fighting back to turn. The only reason she wasn't doing it right away was to probably tease him, but he had no evidence to prove it. Eventually, after a moment or two, she slowly turned back to face him, a small grin on her face.
He frowned. "…What?"
"Y'know, I was going to tell you," she reminded him. "I wouldn't have kept it a secret. I was just messing with you."
Because of course she was.
"Yeah," Fitz absently agreed, still more focused on the fact she hadn't said anything about who caught her heart yet. "Who is he?"
Biana's grin faded a little, but what replaced it was not discomfort or anything of the sort; if he didn't know any better, he would she she looked a bit embarrassed. Maybe she was, now that he was realizing it. Blood had risen to her cheeks, making them red, as she pointedly avoided eye contact with him and stared at the floor.
She mumbled something under her breath.
"What?"
She repeated herself, but Fitz was pretty sure she shrunk into herself a little more and quieted her voice.
"I literally cannot hear you. What?—"
"Dex Dizznee!" she finally blurted, catching Fitz off guard once more. Her entire face was red. "I like Dex," she repeated, whispering it quietly. Fitz froze, his eyes slightly narrowing as he searched her face.
Dex was… expected, but also not expected, if that made any sense? It's not like there were very many choices for Biana to choose from.
Fitz couldn't really imagine her dating anyone else, especially not the boys at Foxfire. Keefe was taken, and he wasn't sure if he liked the mental image of his sister and Tam Song holding hands. Those two rarely ever spoke, anyways. Biana hung around Dex a lot as of late, and Fitz would be a liar if he didn't notice the way his sister laughed a little too loud at Dex's jokes, (which were unfunny, by the way), but he didn't think Biana held any actual feelings for the Technopath.
Dex was also overall an interesting guy. Quick, witty remarks. A somewhat short temper (Fitz had been on the end of recieving it many, many times in the past). He rambled, and berated himself on some occasions. Fitz had to admit that Dex had a few laudable qualities, like actually being funny, and understanding, and admirably being brave and intelligent… not quite a pushover either—at least, not anymore. He was quite the confrontational type, actually. He was also very thoughtful, and he tried to impress Biana too many times to be considered casual.
But he also used to hate Fitz. Did Dex still hate him? Would that affect Biana in any way? Why was he worrying about this? He probably didn't hate Fitz anymore. Everything was great. Dex was a good choice.
"Fitz?" Biana was looking at him, the redness gone from her cheeks, and her expression held a mixture of worry and curiosity. He snapped himself out of his thoughts.
"Dex," he slowly repeated with a slow nod. He watched as her eyebrows furrowed.
"Is… that not a good thing?" Biana asked. Fitz shook his head, raising his hands to stop her mind from going anywhere else—if it were to, that is.
"I trust you," he simply said. "You know your worth, so who am I to tell you that I don't approve of who your heart loves?" She scowled at him. "What? I didn't say that I didn't like him. You guys are already practically a couple—ow!" Fitz rubbed his arm where she hit him, pouting at her like a child.
"You're ridiculous," she said, but a twitch in the corner of her mouth said otherwise. He smiled, feeling a lightness in his chest he hadn't felt in a while. Though, Biana's expression had quickly shifted into something more serious, and Fitz nearly groaned in exasperation. "I have two favors to ask of you."
"That's a lot to ask."
"No, it's not. Shut up. You didn't even hear what they were yet!"
Fitz raised a brow at her, and he nearly lost his composure when he saw her sigh and shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"You mustn't tell mom and dad," she finally said, looking directly at him. "I'll tell them myself later. I just don't want mom interrogating me as of now, and I don't…" Her voice trailed off, and so did her eyes. She was staring absently past Fitz, lost in thought. "I just don't want him to know yet, either," she simply finalized, looking back at him seriously. He slightly tilted his head, but he didn't object.
"Gotcha," he agreed. "What's your second…?"
"Can you help me?"
"…With what?"
Biana seemed to struggle to find words as she rubbed the back of her neck. "With… Dex," she slowly said, squinting at him as if she was hoping he would immediately understand. (Which he did, of course. Just not quite immediately).
"What?—Oh, you want me to be your wingman," he realized, voicing his realization out loud. Biana nodded in confirmation. He wanted to ask 'why?', but he assumed that she didn't know Dex liked her back. He didn't mull over it too much before, but now that he was…
It was pretty clear to anyone watching that Dex was already a bit head-over-heels in-love with Biana. Fitz was actually kind of disappointed with himself for not immediately clocking it within the first few signs, but he supposed his mind was occupied. With something. Yeah.
"Sure," he agreed, shrugging his shoulders. Biana eyed him cautiously, as if waiting for something. "What?"
"Are… you not going to ask for anything?" she asked. "Like a favor back?"
"No," he slowly said, raising a brow. "Why would I?"
"I dunno… this seems kinda big. It would make sense, y'know."
"What would I even ask you?"
"You tell me!"
"No, I—" Fitz paused, sighed, and shook his head. "I'm not asking for a favor back. You deserve this, Biana, really." It was the least he could do for her, at least.
Biana shot him a look, carefully searching his face. After a few moments, she relaxed and her expression softened, seemingly satisfied with what she found. She forced him into a hug, which he wasn't expecting. Fitz froze for a few moments, stiff, then wrapped his arms around her to reciprocate the hug. A small smile formed upon his mouth.
"What's this for?" he asked. Biana pulled back and shook her head, seemingly saying "nothing" despite not really saying it aloud. Maybe he just understood her that well. "Alright, then. Do you have a plan?"
"…Plan?"
"To see if he likes you back…? The answer should be clear, by the way. With the way he looks at you—ow!" He frowned at her, pushing her farther away from him on the bed. "What is up with you and hitting me?"
"You're practically asking for it!"
Fitz would retort back if he didn't feel a little bad for the way she was turning very red in the face. Who is he kidding? "Well, am I right, or am I right?" he asked, mostly under his breath, so she wouldn't hear him. Apparently the whispering was ineffective because she shot him a warning scowl. "Okay, okay! Sorry!"
A pause.
"I take it as a no, then…?"
"No," she huffed. "I have no plan, but I do have a concept of one. It was asking you to help me by telling me what he likes."
Fitz slightly tilted his head at her. "I thought you had that down as well?"
"Well, yeah!" Biana threw her hands up, then she dropped them. "But I only know the basic stuff! Like a bit about his family, his favorite thing to do is because he occasionally rambles about it, and… et cetera. I'm too nervous to ask him about anything else!"
"You know Sophie's favorite star constellation, human band, and her hobbies and what she liked before coming to the Lost Cities," Fitz pointed out, squinting at her in slight disbelief.
"She's my best friend."
"Treat Dex like your best friend then. Just casually ask him!"
"Okay, but Sophie isn't the elf I have a crush on," she hissed, faltering for a moment before seemingly dismissing whatever thought that had formed from her mind. "Get that through your skull! It's different!" She paused and shot him a look. "Plus, you agreed to help me. I don't know why you're arguing with me right now."
Fitz was going to argue that it wasn't that different, but then he realized he really had no place to speak. Sure, he and Sophie dated, but he supposed it didn't really count because of the circumstances. Fitz thought for an answer, comparing his friendships to Biana's situation. Yeah, he really doesn't have a place to be speaking. He sighed.
"You're right," he simply said. "I am supposed to help you—my fault. You want me to… report the things he tells me… to you?" he asked, slowly. Biana nodded. "But we're not even that close! We barely ever talk to each other!"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, this is a good time for you to bond with him before we get together."
"You're fairly confident about getting together with him."
"Well, I know I'm going to win him over—"
"Then why..?—"
"—with your help," she finished, shooting Fitz a nasty glare for interrupting her. Oddly enough, her words caused a faint memory to play in his mind, but it left as quick as it appeared. "Obviously. When you cooperate with and help me."
Fitz didn't have anything to say to that, so he slowly nodded. She was right; maybe this was a perfect opportunity to get closer to Dex just so it won't be as stiff as it would be if he didn't when his sister and Dex dated. Fitz thought that his mind was accepting this way too easily, and he didn't… really like that thought, actually.
"Okay," he agreed. "Yeah, I'll… get information for you."
"It's not like you could deny. You already agreed."
"You're… right."
"I know I am, like always. I'm never wrong."
"You know what? Get out of my room."
Biana spluttered, surprised at the sudden remark. Then, she let out a laugh. "What—you're not gonna ask for any other details?"
"No. You've disgraced my room just enough. I know that I have to report to you about anything I find out about him," he flatly said, giving her an unimpressed look to appear irritated. "Get out of my room. You're no longer welcome here." The slight twitching in the corner of his lips said otherwise.
Biana rolled her eyes and stood up with a scoff. "Fine then! You clearly don't deserve my whimsical, graceful presence," she unequivocally said, flipping her hair dramactically over her shoulder and walked to leave his room. Fitz watched her walk away with an amused glint in his eyes, a smile spreading across his face.
It had been a while, he thought, to see his sister so refreshed like this. He did not miss the way how she looked so defeated during the entire thing with the Blackswan, Neverseen, and just the overall pressure of everything. He was just glad that it was over, and he wanted to never experience it again if it meant to see her (and his friends and family) so, so defeated. Actually—he just didn't want to go through anything like that over again at all. Period.
"Thank you," a voice whispered, cutting him out of his thoughts. He just realized that Biana hadn't left the room yet; rather, she was lingering by the door, her hands wrapped around the knob. His facial expression softened. He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for—not this situation, surely. It was barely anything! Despite the protest in his thoughts, he gave her a smile, and she gave him one right back. She opened his bedroom door and left, leaving the door gently closed behind her.
Fitz stared at his door for a few moments before turning to look over at the clock on his desk. Ten past twenty-one, it read. Had it really been that long? Fitz wasn't really complaining, though. It had been a while since he had such a long chat with his sister, especially with something that should've been so normal around their ages; it felt like a gush of fresh air, and then suddenly, it didn't. He was going to have to get closer to Dex just for his sister—of all people! It's not that Fitz didn't like Dex; he didn't have a reason to not like him, but it was more of the fact that he had no idea how to speak to Dex. Sure, they had conversations before, but none of them were as casual as "hey, what's your favorite color?" or "hey do you have any favorite activities to do?" or "do you like doing anything else? Besides tinkering?" The last question sounded a bit inconsiderate to him. How do you even ask someone that in a conversation? It certainly can't be a conversation starter—it was too… forward. Fitz wasn't even sure why he was overthinking about this; he agreed for Biana, and so he should man up and just deal with it. He'd find a way; he always did. He was an easy-talker, for star's sake! Always has been. He hoped that fact remained unchanged.
He was snapped out of his dilemma about how much of a smooth talker her was when Biana burst into his room again, and he shot her an unimpressed and cautious look. There was something equivalent to sheepish on her face.
"By the way, we made plans in the group chat about hanging out tomorrow for lunch. In Atlantis. At eleven. You're coming along. We both know that you have no other plans tomorrow—for once," she hurriedly explained, then promptly shut the door before he could protest—before he could let out a single sound. He blankly listened to her footsteps hurry away and retreat to her own room, staring at his closed door in disbelief.
Did that just happen? Fitz stared at the door for a few more moments, eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his face. Then, he laid back on his bed and dragged his hand down his face, rolling over to his side and losing his eyes with a heavy sigh.
It's not like he had anything against hanging out with his friends; he had actually wanted to for a few weeks now. It's just that this was sprung up on him very suddenly, but he supposed it was his own fault for not checking his Imparter more often. That was probably a lesson he should learn from: check up on things rather than letting them sit for days on end.
Tomorrow, he reminded himself and rolled back over onto his back, blinking slowly at the ceiling of his room. He didn't have to worry about anything until tomorrow. He actually didn't need to worry about anything at all because he knows exactly what he's doing!
Tomorrow.