#give.

spoilers for up to chapter four of ITKMEMVITA

Pyro wakes when his very comfy mattress begins to shift sometime after the sun rises. Cracking one pink eye open, and then the other, he’s not fast enough to move before the surface under him goes vertical and he goes tumbling to the fabric couch cushion with a squeak. He lands on his back. A hand, halfway to rubbing a set of tired eyes, pauses. Heavy brown brows furrow and bleary eyes look down at him from under heavier bangs. Lessur’s expression was always hooded half in shadow. Most of the time it makes his face look either murderous or stricken. Sometimes both. Now, seeing it from below, he just looks a little lost as he stares right at Pyro for a full ten seconds. And then his eyes widen, hand smacking the back cushion as he jerks to face Pyro fully.

Bats couldn’t grin, so Pyro gives a happy chirp before rolling onto his belly. “Good morning!” 

Lessur looks as if he’s been hit over the head with the knowledge of Athena. “Pyro?”

“The one and only,” Pyro says with a theatrical bow. “Pyro.”

“See, you’re wearing it out now.”

 “Pyrosythe?” His hand sweeps his bangs back and digs into the rats nest. “As in, Jack von Pyrosythe.”

Pyro is a little lost. “...yeah?” “Avid. Shelby’s Avid!” It’s a mutter now. The other hand joins the first. “You—you’re supposed to be dead!”

Pyro sits up further, “You know Shelby? How is she?” Lessur hunches over and stares at the wooden floor. “Holy shiitake fucking mushrooms. You— Yes! Yes, I know Shelby! Hell, I know you.” Lessur shakes his head. “You have a grave. We—we passed it yesterday! She…” And he trails off. 

“...Lessur?” Pyro says, “Is Shelby okay?” “Yeah,” He says, distracted, staring at the floor still. He blinks and gives a rueful smile. “She’s— They come back every year to see you guys, actually. That’s how I know her— of her, more like. We’re, ah, not supposed to be alone with them.” Lessur turns to look at the curtains eeking in sunlight. “I guess they're gonna miss it this year, huh?”

“They.”  Pyro says. His mouth is dry cotton.

“Yeah—Shelby, Drift, and Scott. Though, we throw our party like, a week later.”

Scott.

Pyro feels… numb. Like someone has reached in and whisked away all his feelings and left him but crumbs to see what they were. Or water droplets, anyway.

His mind spins away from him, unruly to all but the man that drowned it, once. This year. This year Scott couldn’t get into Oakhurst. No one could. But— as soon as this all blew over he’d…

Huh.

“What… What if the barrier didn’t break?”