Look. Darry hitting Ponyboy is obviously, unequivocally wrong, and we shouldnât make excuses for it or justify it.
But outbursts of aggression or violence can be a symptom of trauma and PTSD. And we really need to stop completely leaving that out of the debates of âis Darry a good or bad guardian/person?â
Something many in the fandom forget, despite it being a central aspect of Darryâs character, despite it being a central aspect of Ponyâs character arc, despite Pony reminding us explicitly and repeatedly in his narration - is that Darryâs behaviour when we see him in canon is out of character.
Ponyboy could not be more clear about this. âMe and Darry got along before mom and dad died.â âNobody in our family ever hit me before. Nobody.â The palpable shock of all three brothers, including Darry himself, after Darry hit Pony.
One of the main reasons why Pony finds Darryâs behaviour so distressing is because itâs new. Itâs different. Itâs unexpected. It came seemingly out of nowhere. Heâs not used to it and itâs caught him horribly off guard. Itâs yet another cataclysmic change that Ponyâs had to deal with as an unexpected byproduct of his parentsâ deaths. He hasnât had a lifetime to inoculate himself against Darry yelling at him or hitting him, like Johnny or Dally or Steve with their parents. If Darry was an abusive person, Pony would be used to these behaviors. He might say something like, âDarry was always like this but now mom and dad arenât here to protect me.â But no. Darry yelling at Pony all the time is out of character. Darry hitting Pony is out of character. Again, it doesnât excuse the behavior, but it does raise alarm bells and give us some very important clues.
You have some acting violently in a way that is recent, sudden, and out of character. Thatâs the profile of someone who is suffering from trauma.
All three brothers suffered their parentsâ deaths, but itâs safe to assume Darry was the one who had to identify their mangled bodies. Darry was the one who had to prepare those bodies for burial. Do you think Darry doesnât see that image when he closes his eyes? Do you think he let Soda and Pony see that? If Pony had seen his parentsâ dead bodies, he would have mentioned it. The whole point of the story is that even after his parentsâ death, Pony doesnât see the full extent of death and violence and dead bodies with his own eyes. Because Darry took care of it for him.
Darry is not only acting out of character during canon, but heâs most likely also acting on impulses that he canât fully control and hasnât been given the tools to do so. Mental health and trauma therapy were not really a thing in the 1960s, and even if the Curtisâ lived in the modern era, they still wouldnât have the money and resources to access that help. Maybe a modern Darry Curtis could self diagnose through Google searches, if he ever found time, but thatâs about it.
Not to mention the societal and material circumstances at play. You canât insist that the story is about class and socioeconomics - which it is - but make Darry the sole exception, and act like his wrongdoings alone exist in a vacuum.
The whole point of Darry hitting Pony is that itâs the culmination of events, a breaking point, that is a direct result of their class and their poverty. Darry would never have hit Pony if he wasnât at the end of his rope, not just due to their parentsâ death, but all the socioeconomic conditions resulting from it.
Darry hit his breaking point when Pony came home late, not because he was mad that Pony broke his tyrannical rule, but because Pony breaking curfew could have disastrous, life altering consequences. He was worried sick not knowing where Pony was, but he couldnât do anything about that, because if he called the police, Pony and Soda would be taken away and tossed in the system. Because Darryâs custody is constantly under threat, because theyâre low class and poor. And heâs already running on fumes from the financial ruin and precarious custody that heâs had to deal with every minute of every day since their parents died. If soc kids lost their parents it would still be a tragedy and a trauma, but money and custody and college and future would not be a concern. Theyâd just access their trust funds and be adopted by any number of other wealthy relatives or family friends.
If anything, I think itâs damn impressive that Darry improves his behaviour toward Ponyboy as much as he does, considering he has no more resources or support system by the end than he does at the beginning. His efforts to be more gentle and patient and communicative are sheer willpower. In essence, heâs trying to override his triggers while still living in survival mode, and he manages to make progress. Thatâs hard enough for people who know those terms and have that vocabulary, let alone someone who very much does not.
So is Darryâs treatment of Pony wrong? Of course. Is he inherently a bad person? The narrative is very clear that he is not, that his negative behavior is an anomaly. Is there a hell of a lot of context to Darryâs mistakes that should be taken into account? Yes. Is said context literally the whole point of the story? Also yes. Would you do any better in his position - his exact position, including his age and living in his time period? Sorry, no. If you are an adult in 2025 who canât bother to understand Darry, there is no way you would have done a better job of understanding Ponyboy or caring for Ponyboy if you were Darry in 1965. If you write off Darry as just an abuser, just an inherently bad person, I guarantee that if you lived in the 1960s, youâre the one who would think Ponyboy was just an ungrateful brat who needs a good smack to whip him into shape.
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"Um, Lex," Chloe announced, causing me to look at her. "aren't those the girls?"
I looked in the direction she was pointing, when my eyes locked on them. The girls. The girls who left me and still had the audacity to claim they loved me.
I moved on long ago. The amount of calls and texts I've received in the past seven months was seriously concerning, not to mention they filed me as a missing person.
Cops have chased me, search parties have been organized, and yet I still don't want to be found.
I am not going back.
I groaned, turning to Chloe, my partner amongst all this chaos. "Yes, that's them." I growled. "Let's go before they see us."
The system is what broke me. It took away my freedom, my faith, my personality.. they weren't any different.
"They're coming this way." She whispered, turning around and leading the way.
My breath hitched but I kept my pace, careful to not be noticed.
I eventually heard footsteps approaching quickly- of course. They're footballers, they can run. I'd hope.
"Lexi?" An Irish accent was heard first from behind us. Barely making eye contact with Chloe, we slightly nodded-then took off.
I've always been fast, something they've always told me. I know I am. I'd always do the most sports to just get away from them, from everyone. Practicing was the one way I could be alone, even if I was with a team.
Chloe and I have been in this situation before, just cops instead. We've made a long going plan to run different ways and just meet up at our camp, an abandoned underground place squirming with insects.
But when I cut a turn opposite to Chloe, it didn't surprise me I could still feel the gap between us closing.
It wasn't long until I felt arms wrap around my waist, tackling me to the ground.
"No," I cried, squirming as more caught up. "let me go."
"Sorry kid," Katie mumbled, arms wrapped tightly around me. "I can't do that."
I tried pushing her off me, but more arms grabbed me. The same pair of arms that used to hold me at night, tell me everything would be okay.
Leah.
"Stop it!" I yelled, trying to make a scene.
A load of the girls were there, either from Arsenal or the Lionesses. They were all looking at me with pity and annoyance.
They must not know the story.
"Lexi, can we please just talk?" Leah practically begged, holding me against her while I thrashed in her arms.
"There's nothing to talk about," I spat under gritted teeth. "you left me. I want nothing to do with you."
I trusted her. I shared my secrets, my thoughts, my hopes, and that was my mistake.
She gasped, her grip almost loosening but never enough I could break it. "No, no. I didn't leave you. I would never." She breathed out, sounding more hurt than anything. "I was doing what was best for you, love."
Best for me!?
Beth butted in while lots of the girls explained to strangers I wasn't being kidnapped. "Le, maybe bring her back to the hotel. Somewhere more.. private."
Leah looked around, before agreeing. She nodded to Katie and let go of me, but right before I could take off, the Irish grabbed hold of me and picked me up in a bear hug.
"Katie, please," I whispered, voice desperate. "please let me go."
The Irish sighed. "I'm sorry, Lex. Just talk to Leah, yeah?"
"I don't want to talk to her."
"She just wants to make things right."
"If she wanted things to be right she wouldn't have tried to send me back.
Katie sighed again as we neared a car. "I don't think I know the full story. Just.. hear her out, okay? She loves you, kiddo. A lot. She's been worried sick ever since you left."
"No." A tear fell down my face onto Katie's shirt. "I didn't leave. I was looking out for myself, something she gave up on."
I was speaking loud enough so I knew Leah- who was only about a foot in front of us- could hear. Her shoulders were slumped and I only felt a smidge bad, simply because I have a kind heart. Deep down I knew I could rip into her with my words and still walk away unsatisfied.
Katie sighed yet again as Leah opened the car door for us, climbing inside with me still in her arms. "If this doesn't work out, I'll adopt you, alright? Caitlin would agree, no worries. Just try to speak with her."
I huffed as Less climbed into the car, squishing me in the middle. She gave my thigh a pat along with a small smile, but I didn't reciprocate.
Leah got in the passenger seat as Beth started driving away, lord knows where. A bunch of cars followed behind, assumingely the rest of the girls.
After about five more minutes of complete awkward silence, we pulled up to a nearby hotel. Beth parked and Katie grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the car. "Don't even think about running," Katie dared in a whisper.
I shot her a glare but obeyed, letting her drag me through the hotel.
In the elevator, my eyes connected with Leah's for a quick second. I looked away quickly, but only after noticing the regret in hers. It almost made me feel bad for all the distress I caused, to her and everyone else.
No, no. I can't turn into the sweet girl I once was. Not now.
Katie pulled me out of the now opened elevator to a hotel room, presumably Leah's.
Once in there, I stood against a wall, pretty much everyone I once laughed with staring at me. Both Leah's lioness and Arsenal teammates have known me, for me.
Running away was not me. But running away is what was best for me.
"Guys," Leah spoke the dreaded words, slicing through the awkward silence. "can we have a minute?"
Everyone- I'm not even sure, like 20 people- left, lots confused and lots worried. But I didn't care. I was now alone in a room with the one woman I hated.
Well- sorta hated. I could never hate her. In reality, I missed her so much. It was my one weak spot, she was the mother I never had. I had to convince myself she was my enemy first my own good.
"Lexi," Leah began from across the room, arms crossed. She had the most relieved yet sorry expression ever, something I'd never really seen. "I'm sorry."
I said nothing but stared at her. Not in shock, no. If she wanted my forgiveness, she had to give more.
Her eyes met mine as she took a step closer. I took a step back, hitting the wall behind me. "Lex, I didn't leave you-"
"Bullshit." I cut her off. "You tried sending me back to the one place I never felt safe in. You knew about that and you still sent me back."
"No, no. Lexi.." her eyes watered and her voice shook, as if she had a million things to say at once. "I wanted you in a better place. Looking back, I shouldn't have tried it.. but I was struggling. I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to take care of you and give you what you deserved."
Tears fell from my eyes as a lump in my throat formed. "So why'd you start? You never had to foster me, but you promised me you'd make my life better. I was happy, then you threw it all away."
"Because," She started, blinking her tears away. Her voice was still quiet in the small room. "you were so vulnerable when I found you. I knew I couldn't just leave you, and I wanted to give you the life I felt you deserved. I..I just didn't know I wouldn't be able to until it was too late."
I stared at her in shock, not believing her ridiculous words. "I was with you for two years. Two whole years. That's the longest I'd ever stayed with anyone after my parents. Why would you not want to fight your battles with me?"
She shook her head. "Because you're a kid, Lex. Bloody 14 years old. You're the sweetest, most loving kid I know and I didn't want you around my issues. I wasn't thinking of saving you from your own battles, instead I was thinking of keeping you away from mine."
Her words were starting to get to me, her voice so familiar and comforting. I slid to my knees as the tears continued falling, a gut-wrenching sob wracking from my body. "Th-that's not fair, Leah."
She was quick to be by my side, and soon I felt the comfort of her arms snake around my waist and cup my head. "I know love, I know. It was stupid of me and I should've talked to you. I'm so, so, sorry."
I let out another cry, this time much softer. "I-I thought of you everyday. I never understood why you would want to send me back. I thought.. I thought you'd just given up on me.
Leah sniffled, taking a second to gather herself before speaking. "I-I made a mistake, Lex. The worst mistake I could ever make. After you ran off, I realized how horrible the system is and hated myself everyday for even thinking of putting you back in that place. I.. I could never even tell the girls I'm so ashamed."
By now, Leah was brushing my hair back with her fingers, letting me rest my head on her shoulder.
"But I'd never give up on you." She whispered, kissing my head gently.
The motion was so strong it made my heart flutter.
"Lex?" She spoke after a minute of the now comforting silence.
"Hm?" I hummed, exhaustion from my experience haunting me.
"Can I be your mum again? A real one this time?"
And for the first time in seven months, I felt a true smile tug at my lips.
If you want kids: what way would you plan to have kids if having them biologically is not an option?
Adopt
Surrogate [someone else carrying children who I would then raise]
Foster
Other?
I ONLY want kids if I can have them biologically. If that's not possible I won't
I don't want kids
Voting ended onSep 21, 2024
Having biological kids can be impossible/impractical for many reasons including you/your partner not having the relevant combination of parts, infertility, age, disability or illness, etc.
â
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was thinking about a Michael Afton time travel fic idea after reading this one fic and my first thought was like: "first thing on the list: murder Willy in cold blood" but then I hesitated and was like "but wait then they'll all end up in foster care and might get separated" but then I remembered that if Willy lived these kids weren't ever gonna make it to 10 y/o yeah I think I'll take my chances in the American foster system thanks-
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Conservatives better get really comfortable with infantacide real quick. Abortion rights as well as other forms of birth control are under threat and sex education in schools is abysmal by design. People can't afford to feed themselves let alone spend upwards of $50 dollars on baby formula.
CPS already doesn't do their job, the foster system is overloaded and federal goverment spending is expecting to drop to 6% by 2033. The adoption process is predatory, lengthy and tedious and costs $20 grand and babies who are nonwhite are less likely to be adopted as well as babies with visible disabilities.
Conservatives better get comfortable with increased cases of shaken baby syndrome, repeaded child abuse and neglegence, kids that go to school hungry because their parents aren't feeding them, children getting dropped off at a realtive's house or daycare and their parents not coming back for them, babies being born with developmental malformation from failed at home abortion and acute withdrawl from drug or alcohol use.
"In 2021, 31 babies were placed in dumpsters, found in backpacks, or discarded in other dangerous locations. 22 of these infants were found deceased." -National Safe Haven Alliance
Republican conservatives better start getting comfortable with more people throwing their newborns into trash cans or leaving them on the side of the road or snuffing them with a pillow because even if you can force people to have babies you can't force people to raise them. You can throw that person in prison, but the US's obsession with crime and punishment does not take preventative action, nor does it reverse time.
For whatever reason they didn't want that kid. That's what the birth control was for.
With no viable escape plan yet, Trouble has a few questions for his kinder captor.
My deepest thanks, as always, to broidcanymore. He's a living weapon, but it's hard not to be fond of Lucas đ it's like my son gets to live with a super calm powder keg đ only way to keep Trouble in line, really...
Read it here or over on ao3. 2255 words. Enjoy đ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While they walked back, sipping on their lemonades, Trouble looked at everything around them: the traffic, the people, the buildings, and everything else he knew he wouldnât be able to see once he was back in the house.Â
âIâm glad you brought us there. This is really good,â Lucas commented.
âYeah?â Trouble lowered his cup and returned a small smile. He fiddled with the straw, spinning the ice around. âHey, Lucas?â
âYes?â
âCould I ask you about something?â He asked it slowly and kept his eyes on their surroundings.Â
âOf course.â
âUm. How did you end up, uh, at the house?â
âLiving there, you mean?â
Trouble nodded, meeting Lucas' gaze.
âI moved in when Alison became my legal guardian.â
âShe fostered you?!â he asked, incredulous. âWhat for?â
âShe adopted me, actually.âÂ
âWhoa.â Trouble stirred the ice in his cup again. Lucas had been in the system, too? The lemonade churned in his stomach as his foster motherâs face flashed through his mind. Heâd known before coming out as trans that once he did it, his chances of being adopted would be gone forever. He shivered, shoving the memory away.
But Lucas had made it out. He seemed...well, sort of happy. And Lucas wasnât human and Alison still took him! âWhat, um... Can I ask what happened to your parents?â
âThatâs...â Lucas sighed. He slowed and looked around, then made a beeline for a composting bin -- heâd finished his drink. âI donât usually talk about this.â
âYou donât have to.â Trouble hoped he would. When Lucas started walking again, Trouble fell in step with him, unable to take his eyes off Lucasâ face. For once, he didnât look so calm or steady.Â
âIt was a car crash. I was with my parents when it happened.â
For a moment, Trouble thought he could smell something woody, almost resinous. As a breeze hit, passing over Lucas first, his heart beat faster. It was Lucas. Lucas was sad, and he could smell it!
âI donât remember all of it. I was severely injured in the crash. I woke up in the hospital. Alison was there. She was the one who told me that they werenât able to save my mom and dad. I was nine when I lost them.â
âIâm sorry, Lucas,â he said quietly. As Trouble watched, a tear slipped down Lucasâ cheek.
âThrough marriage, sheâs my aunt, but she became my new mom when she took me in.â
That explains why sheâs human and doesnât care that youâre not. Huh. Maybe she wonât mind that Iâm different, too.
âI know now that I was lucky to have survived at all, but I really struggled with how much my life changed. I didnât make it easy on her, but she supported me all throughout my recovery. She was there for me after, too, with my schooling, and when I enrolled at the police academy. I donât know where Iâd be now if it werenât for her.â Lucas absently wiped his face on the back of one hand.
âShe cares about you a lot, huh.â
âYeah. Sheâs my mom.â Lucas looked at Trouble. âShe helped me a lot, Trouble. If you let her, I think she could help you, too.â
âThanks for telling me.â Trouble quickly put his eyes back on everything else but Lucas. He sipped his drink, but it was more ice and water than lemonade.Â
As the businesses gradually became only houses, and the spaces between the houses increased, Trouble couldnât get rid of a nagging thought. He chewed his lip and absently touched the skin just below his collar.Â
âWeâre a little later than I thought weâd be, but thatâs fine.â Lucasâ smile was back. âIt was nice getting to do this with you.â
âYeah.â He wasnât at all eager to get back to the house. Lucas would have dinner with Alison, but Trouble would be back up in his room. Again. He glanced at Lucas, then quickly away, afraid of asking something that might ruin the mood. But did he really want to sit alone with the questions in his head all night?Â
Trouble doubted he would be able to come up with a polite way to ask if Lucas had been like him, and if that was why his aunt had decided to adopt him. Was Lucas reformed? And was that the real reason why Alison wanted to give Trouble a chance at doing the same thing?
âIs something wrong?â
âHuh?â He flinched and looked down at his cup. âNo. Why?â
âYou keep looking at me, and then away.â
âOh.â Trouble swallowed as his face started to feel warm. âUm. I was just...thinking. Uh, Lucas, could I ask you something else?â
âOf course you can.â
âEven if,â he hesitated, shooting an anxious look at Lucas, âif itâs something that might piss you off?â
âI doubt that will happen, Trouble.â
âYou, um, when you were a kid, is there any chance you were maybe...like me?â
âIâm not sure what youâre asking.â
Trouble sighed. âSo, yesterday, you said that Alison wouldnât shock me. You said you knew because, uh, she didnât do that to you.â He looked at Lucas.
âWhat is it that you want to ask me?â
âWhat did you mean? Did...â he gulped and lowered his voice, âdid you have to wear a collar, too? When you first got to the house?â
âI donât want to talk about this.âÂ
âIâm sorry.â Trouble looked away quickly, his ears flattening while his tail curled close to his legs. âForget I asked. Please. Iâm sorry, Lucas.â
âItâs okay. Iâm not upset with you for asking.â
Even though he doubted there was any scent to detect, Trouble drew in a deep breath. Lucas was back to smelling like laundry detergent and shampoo, though there was fresh sweat over it all now, too.Â
Neither of them spoke again until they were back at the house. Lucas unlocked and opened the front door, holding it for Trouble to go in first.
âWe should both shower and get changed.â
âYeah.â He kicked off his shoes and pushed them under the hall bench. Lucas pointed out which cupboard in the kitchen hid the composting bin for his lemonade cup.
âIâll walk you upstairs.â
âThanks for the run,â he said, hovering outside his room after Lucas unlocked and opened that door for him, too. âAnd the lemonade.â
âYouâre welcome. Iâll come check on you before bed, if you want.â
âOkay.â
...
Trouble showered and changed. The clean clothes he put on were exactly the same as the clothes heâd changed out of, except for the colors. He was grateful that it was boxers heâd found in the dresser in his room. All of the clothes were athletic, sweat-wicking pants and matching tees. It was all expensive -- he recognised the brand. Knowing that all of it was for him and sized to fit... Trouble frowned as he picked at the bottom hem of one pant leg, sitting cross-legged on the bed while he waited for Lucas.Â
His eyes were on the window, on the sky and clouds. The sunset colors were gone now. He wished he could smell the night coming on. Heâd tried to open it the day before, but the locking mechanism was stuck. Somehow. So there were no bars, but there might as well have been. It wasnât like he could smash it. Not as long as he was stuck wearing the collar...
âTrouble?â
âCome in,â he called, ears and tail perking up at the sound of Lucasâ voice. He did his best to ignore the clunk of the lock disengaging and returned Lucasâ smile as he came in. âHow was dinner?â
âIt was good.â
âGood.â He chewed his lip, head cocking to one side. There were two hours left before curfew, and he didnât want to waste them. âThanks again, for taking me running and talking with me.â
âI enjoyed it. You set a fast pace.â
âYeah?â Troubleâs shoulders relaxed; he hadnât realized heâd tensed up.
âYou maintained it well, too.â
âI like to run. Everything else falls away and you can just...go,â he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment.Â
âRunning can help you clear your mind,â Lucas agreed, nodding.
âAnd we can go again?â Trouble got off the bed.
âYes, tomorrow if youâd like to.â
âYeah, I want to.â He grinned, then belatedly added, âPlease.â Trouble went up to Lucas, replacing his hand on the door to draw it all the way open. He nodded at the hallway before slowly, cautiously edging around him. âOh, and could we ever go in the morning, before you have work?â He spun to keep his eyes on Lucas, walking backwards toward the library.
âWe could only run if we did that.â Lucas trailed after, leaving Troubleâs door open behind them. âI canât be late for work, so there wouldnât be time for things like lemonade.â
âThatâs okay.â His nose wrinkled over his grin. âI donât like lemonade all the time, but I always love running.â He paused when they were outside the library. âIs it still okay if I pick something out?â
âYes. Feel free to choose a couple of books.â
Trouble darted inside, tail wagging. He scanned the closest shelf with a furrowed brow, one finger ghosting over the titles as he read them.
âWas that something you did often?â
âWhat?â he asked, distracted. A few of the titles were ones heâd heard of. Books he wouldâve been forced to read, if heâd finished high school instead of fleeing his foster home.Â
âRunning.â
Trouble straightened and looked at Lucas. âYeah, I guess. It...cleared my head?â He chuckled and put his eyes back on the books. âI feel strong when I run, and then I wouldnât have to worry about where I was staying, or how long it would last, or stuff like that.â
âYou wonât have to worry about any of those things anymore. Now you have a home here.â
He lowered his arm, but kept staring at the titles. The words blurred into nonsense. He blinked furiously and clenched his teeth, taking deep breaths in and out through his nose.
âTrouble?â
âUm.â He moved further away from Lucas and kept his back to him. âThereâs so many. Books.â Trouble touched one of the shelves, then gripped it. âI donât...know what to pick.â
âDo you want help?â
Trouble swallowed and nodded, staying where he was. He couldnât resist looking out of the corner of his eye. His heart rate picked up as he waited, his shoulder tingling in anticipation of Lucasâ hand settling there.
âSince youâre fond of running, you might like this?â
He blinked and slowly turned. Lucas was holding out a book.Â
âItâs an autobiography of a man who competes in ultramarathons.â
Trouble could only stare at Lucas.
âYou donât want to read it?â
âNo, I do!â He plucked the book out of Lucasâ hand and held it to his chest. âThanks. It sounds...cool.âÂ
âYou donât have to read it if you donât want to. What sort of books do you normally read?â
âI donât,â he admitted quietly. âRead.â Trouble sighed. âI liked comics when I was younger. I know thatâs not really reading--â
âGraphic novels are books, too.â Lucas chuckled. âWe donât have a single one at the moment, but that can change. Do you have any favorites?â
âI dunno. What do you like to read, Lucas?â
âHm. When I do read, I suppose I like books about travel, or wars.â
âTravel?â The tension eased from his shoulders, the lines across his forehead smoothed.Â
âYes. Oh, and sometimes I read poetry. I like how poets explain things.â
âPoetry?â he asked, chuckling. âReally? I wouldnât have guessed that.â Troubleâs smile softened as he looked at Lucas. âThanks. For telling me.â He held up the autobiography and waggled it. âAnd for this.â
âWe have more than an hour before bed. If you donât want to start reading tonight, would you want to watch something instead? Thereâs a new documentary about caves that I havenât had the chance to watch yet.â
âYeah. That sounds fun.â Troubleâs tail wagged slowly as he followed Lucas out of the library and back downstairs. He sat in the middle seat of the couch, hugging a pillow while Lucas turned on the entertainment system and got the show playing. He was surprised to hear Lucas gasp more than once, though heâd found the reveals of so many crystal-filled caverns equally breathtaking. There was another that Trouble loved just as much, with a subterranean river running through it, full of life despite the extreme conditions of the location.
During the immersive footage of a submerged system, Trouble clutched at the pillow in his arms, squeezing it tighter and tighter. He let out an uneasy whine as the walls of one passage grew more and more narrow, ears folded flat against his head. He didnât notice heâd started rocking back and forth until he leaned back into a warm touch -- Lucasâ palm between his shoulder blades.
Trouble instantly looked over, but Lucas was still watching the screen.Â
Lucas was smiling, relaxed against the couch back, breathing calmly. He slowly, gently rubbed Troubleâs back.
He let out the breath he hadnât realized heâd been holding. Almost at once, Troubleâs shoulders and ears relaxed as his breathing deepened. He couldnât help leaning into Lucasâ petting and was grateful beyond words that he kept it up even after the documentary finished with the underwater cave and moved on to one inside a glacier.
The familiar worn floral of the couch cushions cradled me as Raegan launched into another one of her dramatic monologues about the baffling intricacies of a dating app profile. Her animated gestures, the way her brow furrowed in concentration, it was all so undeniably Raegan. Even after years of only seeing each other a handful of times a year, the rhythm of our friendship picked up seamlessly, like weâd never been apart.
âHonestly, Hallie, I donât know whatâs worse â the guy who listed âadventurousâ as his only personality trait, or the one with a picture of him holding a suspiciously large fish?â she scoffed, tossing a stray curl behind her shoulder.
I chuckled, picturing it. âMaybe heâs a professional angler whoâs really passionate about his catch.â
âOr maybe he just likes telling tall tales about his fishing trips,â Raegan retorted, her eyes twinkling. âSeriously, though, youâre the only one I can vent about this to. Everyone else just tells me to âlower my standards.ââ
âAnd you never will,â I agreed, knowing it was the truth. Raegan was fiercely loyal, not just to me, but to her own ideals. That was one of the things I loved most about her, even if it sometimes meant she was a little too honest for her own good.
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed, a deep resonant gong that echoed through the house. My stomach gave a familiar flutter. Klaus. Heâd mentioned he might be home soon, and I couldnât wait to see him. He was so⊠different. Not just physically, though heâd definitely landed on the âhot guyâ end of the spectrum, but there was an intensity to him, a quiet power that drew me in.
Just as I was about to suggest we snag some snacks before he arrived, the heavy oak door creaked open. My heart did a little skip-beat. Klaus. He stood there for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the living room, his eyes â those startlingly intense, almost golden eyes â landing on Raegan. And then, he froze.
His jaw tightened, a subtle shift in his posture that only I would notice. A muscle twitched in his cheek. He looked⊠unsettled. It was a rare sight.
âHallie,â he said, his voice a low rumble, but there was an edge to it, a distinct lack of his usual warmth. He took a step forward, his impossibly blue eyes locking with mine. A silent question hung in the air. Who is she?
âKlaus, this is Raegan,â I managed, my voice thinner than I intended. âRaegan, this is⊠Klaus.â I hesitated, searching for a suitably mundane descriptor. Boyfriend? Too simple. Roommate? Utterly ridiculous.
Raegan, ever the pragmatist, solved my dilemma. âHallieâs boyfriend,â she announced with a smirk, her gaze flicking from Klausâs impeccably tailored suit to his chiseled jawline. âAnd a rather handsome one at that, Hallie. Judging by the⊠mansion, Iâd say youâve been holding out on me.â
My cheeks flushed. That was so Raegan. Blunt. Teasing. Completely oblivious to the seismic shift that had occurred in my life since we last saw each other.
Klaus, to his credit, didnât miss a beat. He offered Raegan a charming, if slightly predatory, smile. âAnd you must be Raegan. Hallie has spoken of you.â His voice was a low, smooth rumble, like velvet with a hidden edge.
âOh, has she?â Raeganâs eyebrow arched, her smile widening. âIâm sure itâs all good things. Hallieâs got a good heart, even if she is a terrible secret-keeper.â
My heart hammered against my ribs. Terrible secret-keeper. If only she knew.
Klausâs smile didnât quite reach his eyes. He took another step towards us, and I felt a surge of frantic energy. I grabbed his arm, pulling him slightly to the side, away from Raeganâs direct line of sight. âKlaus, wait,â I whispered, my voice urgent. âWe need to talk. Now.â We stood in the center of the main hallway by the grand staircase while my best friend on the living room couch.
He turned to me, his expression shifting to one of mild impatience. âWhat is it, darling? I was rather enjoying the introduction.â
âNo, you werenât,â I said, my eyes darting back to Raegan, who was now idly examining a ghastly-looking portrait on the wall. âYou were⊠confused. And we need to be careful. Raegan doesnât know.â
âKnow what?â Klaus asked, his voice dangerously soft. âThat youâve managed to snag yourself a man of⊠discerning taste?â
I shot him a glare. âNo, you idiot. That any of this is real. She thinks Iâm just a normal, broke musician who happens to be dating a very rich, very attractive man. She doesnât know about⊠any of it. The magic. The⊠hybrids. Anything.â
Klausâs gaze narrowed, a flicker of something I couldnât quite decipher in its depths. âYou intend to keep this⊠charade going?â
âYes!â I hissed, pulling him further into a nearby, richly decorated study. Shutting the door until I heard a gentle click of the lock. âI have to. Sheâs my sister, Klaus. Not my real sister obviously, but my chosen sister. She grew up in the system with me. Sheâs seen enough weird and awful things in her life. The supernatural world being real? It would just⊠break her. Or worse, make her scared of me.â
The scent of old leather and polished wood filled the air. He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. âSo, you would have me pretend to be⊠what? A normal human?â he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. âA man who plays the part of a wealthy benefactor, perhaps?â
âExactly!â I said, relief flooding me that he wasnât immediately dismissing my concerns. âYou have to be normal. Just⊠a supportive, slightly mysterious boyfriend. No flashing eyes, no super strength, no talking about your millennia-old family drama.â
He leaned against a large oak desk, crossing his arms. âAnd what happens when she inevitably asks about the antique dagger collection? Or the very large wolf head mounted above the fireplace?â
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. âIâll⊠Iâll figure it out. Iâll say itâs a very elaborate hobby. Or that youâre a collector of peculiar things.â
Klaus let out a low chuckle. âYou are remarkably adept at weaving a tapestry of half-truths, Hallie.â
âItâs what I do,â I said, a small smile playing on my lips despite the stress. âItâs how I survived.â He looked at me, and for a moment, the ancient, powerful hybrid melted away, revealing the man who had somehow captured my heart. âJust⊠promise me youâll try. For me.â
He pushed off the desk, walking towards me. He reached out, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. âFor you, Hallie, I will play the part of the perfectly ordinary, incredibly wealthy, and devastatingly handsome human. Just⊠try not to let her interrogate me too thoroughly.â
I let out a shaky breath. âDeal.â
We stepped back out into the foyer, and Raegan was still there, now examining a tapestry depicting some rather violent-looking medieval battle. She looked up as we approached, a perfectly innocent expression plastered on her face. âSo,â she said, turning to me, her eyes twinkling, âwhen do I get the grand tour? And more importantly, when do I get to meet the man behind the⊠mansion?â
Klaus smoothly slid an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. âPerhaps after dinner, Raegan?â he suggested, his voice dripping with cultivated charm. âHallie has been rather⊠eager to share her life with you.â
Raeganâs gaze flickered to Klausâs arm around me, then back to my face. She didnât say anything, but I caught a subtle shift in her expression, a fleeting look of something unreadable. Was it suspicion? Or just the usual sibling-like assessment? With Raegan, it was always hard to tell.
Dinner was an exercise in controlled chaos. We sat in the opulent dining room, the walls adorned with portraits of stern-faced ancestors. Klaus, as promised, was the picture of normalcy. He spoke of his (fictional) business ventures, his (invented) passion for antique art, and his (fabricated) fondness for quiet evenings at home. Raegan, meanwhile, was a force of nature. She peppered Klaus with questions, her sharp wit and intuition working overtime.
âSo, Klaus,â she began, her fork hovering over a perfectly roasted quail, âHallie tells me youâre quite the patron of the arts. Whatâs your particular area of interest?â
Klausâs smile was effortless. âI have a⊠broad appreciation for historical artifacts, Raegan. Particularly those with a certain gravitas.â
âAnd you, Hallie, what have you been working on? Still serenading dingy dive bars?â
I managed a weak smile. âStill singing, yes. Just⊠a bit more inspiration these days.â
Raegan snorted. âInspiration that comes with a mansion and a wardrobe that probably costs more than my entire life savings. Youâre not holding out on me, Hallie.â
My stomach churned. âThereâs nothing to hold out on.â
âOh, I donât know,â Raegan said, taking a sip of her wine. Her gaze was fixed on Klaus, a playful challenge in her eyes. âHe seems a bit too perfect, doesnât he? Almost⊠too good to be true.â
Klaus met her gaze, his own eyes holding a hint of amusement. âOne tries oneâs best, Raegan.â
The conversation danced around the edges of the truth, a delicate ballet of evasion and deflection. I felt like I was walking a tightrope, my every word carefully considered. Klaus was surprisingly good at this, his centuries of experience in manipulation and deception proving invaluable. He seemed to genuinely enjoy Raeganâs sharp tongue, his smile widening with each pointed question.
Then, as the dessert plates were cleared, Raegan leaned forward, her gaze sweeping between Klaus and me. The playful glint in her eyes intensified. âSo,â she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, âhave you slept with him yet?â
The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. My face flushed crimson. Klaus, to his credit, didnât flinch. His expression remained unreadable, but I saw a flicker of something â surprise? Annoyance? â in his eyes.
I stammered as the fork I was holding clattered onto my plate. âRaegan! Thatâs⊠thatâs incredibly rude!â
Raegan just shrugged, a picture of innocent curiosity. âWhat? Itâs a perfectly valid question. Youâre living in a mansion with a ridiculously hot guy. Iâm just asking the important stuff.â
Klaus, ever the smooth operator, interjected, his voice calm and even. âRaegan, Hallie and I have a⊠mutually respectful relationship.â
âMutually respectful,â Raegan repeated, nodding slowly. âSo, thatâs a no, then?â
I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. This was exactly what Iâd feared. My two worlds colliding in the most mortifying way possible. âItâs⊠private, Raegan,â I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Raegan let out a dramatic sigh. âFine, fine. Keep your secrets. But if heâs not treating you right, Hallie, you know Iâll be the first one to shove him off a cliff. Metaphorically speaking, of course.â She flashed a grin at Klaus, who responded with a tight smile that didnât quite reach his eyes.
The rest of the evening was filled with Raeganâs usual brand of sisterly affection, interspersed with her subtly probing questions. She talked about our childhood, the shared laughter and tears, the quiet desperation of those early years. And through it all, Klaus remained the enigmatic, charming man he portrayed himself to be, a quiet observer who seemed to genuinely enjoy our company.
As the evening wore on, Raegan, with her uncanny ability to sniff out an unanswered question, began to subtly probe for information about staying the night. The mansion, with its opulent and slightly eerie grandeur, clearly held a certain fascination for her.
âThis place is incredible, Hallie,â she commented, gesturing around the vast living room, her eyes taking in the antique furniture and the shadowed corners. âItâs like something out of a gothic novel.â
âItâs⊠old,â I offered, knowing how inadequate that sounded.
âOld and very, very big,â she added, her gaze drifting up towards the sweeping staircase. âDo you have like, a whole army of staff running this place? Because Iâve barely seen anyone.â
âJust a few,â Klaus said smoothly, stepping into the conversation, leaning casually against the doorway. âDiscreet individuals.â
Raegan tilted her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. âYou know, Iâve got that early shift tomorrow, and my apartment is like a five-alarm fire hazard at the moment. It might be easier if I just crashed here. Unless thatâs⊠inconvenient?â She directed the last part at me, but her gaze flickered to Klaus, a silent challenge in her eyes.
My heart leaped into my throat. Staying the night? Here? With Klaus? The risks were astronomical. But Raegan, my sister, was asking. And I hated saying no to her.
Klaus, however, seemed unfazed. He met Raeganâs gaze directly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. âThe more, the merrier, I assure you. We have ample accommodations.â
I shot him a look of pure disbelief, but he merely offered a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. He was playing his part, and, infuriatingly, it seemed to be working. âReally?â Raeganâs face lit up with a genuine, unadulterated joy that I hadnât seen in a while.
Nodding my head, yes I smiled at her. âYes.â
âAwesome! Youâre the best, Hallie. Seriously. Sister pact, remember? Always looking out for each other.â She threw her arms around me in a warm hug, her touch firm and reassuring.
And in that moment, despite the whirlwind of secrets and the constant fear of exposure, I knew I wouldnât trade Raegan, or even this strange, dangerous new life, for anything. We were sisters, bound by a past and now, it seemed, connected by a future I was still trying to comprehend. And as long as I could, I would protect Raegan from the shadows that now defined my own.
