#peachyfic

The noise in the room diminished, and all eyes were suddenly on Atticus. Their thoughts managed to slink their way out into the air, but they didn't feel the typical blackhole of anxiety pulling them in.

“Is there a problem?” Wenona crossed her arms and tipped her head to the side condescendingly. Atticus huffed, standing tall in righteous indignation.

“Yeah, actually,” they placed one hand on their hip and gestured with the other, “There is a problem; with just about everyone in this room. I feel like I’m in a room of kindergarteners with the way you're all acting!” Some voices of protest piped up, but were quickly hushed as they continued.

“I mean, look at you all! Yes, it was wrong for Eva to deceive us the way she did. But so goddamn what if she’s called the Ultimate Mathlete? Who cares? I could've easily been called the… Ultimate Animal Guy! Any of us could've gotten silly sounding titles!” Atticus looked around at their peers, “Like the Ultimate Contrarian,” they pointed at Damon, “or the Ultimate Ball-Hitter,” at Grace, “or the Ultimate Note-Taker,” at Ulysses, “or whatever! What does it really matter what she’s called? She’s a math prodigy! She could probably take on equations that would make our heads spin without breaking a sweat! I may not always agree with her, but Eva and her talent are just as important as anyone else’s. You all need to grow up and show some decorum for once. We’re all Ultimates, it’s time to start fucking acting like it.”

They finally heaved a long breath, taking in the room. Some of the other students had promising looks on their faces, like they may have actually gotten through to their peers. Others looked to be mostly uncomfortable and unsure what to say to break the thick tension hanging over the room.

Atticus glanced over to Wolfgang, hoping to jumpstart verbal endorsement from him. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before he turned away, avoiding their gaze and looking ashamed beneath his typical veneer of stoic confidence. They felt their heart break for a moment, before promptly setting ablaze.

“Y’know what? Whatever. I don't really care what any of you do anyways,” they began a brisk walk to the exit, “I’m going to bed.”

~

Their plan to escape the group didn't pan out for as long as they had hoped. Desmond’s idea to check the dorm locks was helpful, they’d give him that, but feeling that violet stare– one that couldn't seem to bear seeing them just hours earlier– burning a hole in their head was a hell of a price to pay for precaution. Eventually they completely zoned out of the conversation, getting lost in the inane back-and-forth.

Until the topic of bunk buddies arose, that is. They finally returned his gaze at that. He quickly turned away the moment their eyes met. Of course.

As the others argued over the best method of choosing roomies, Atticus carefully sidestepped their peers. Being so close to him still made their cheeks burn, even if they were decidedly pissed, but letting nerves take over hadn't done them any good yet. They slapped the back of their hand against the pressed sleeve of his blazer.

“Hey,” they hissed, “Listen, I’m still pretty upset about earlier. But I feel safer with you than anyone else here. Could we–”

“Oi!” Grace nodded toward the pair, one hand on her hip and the other gesturing between them, “You two, what’s with all the whispering ‘n’ shit, eh? You got somethin’ to hide?”

Atticus wound up to retaliate. Before the words could even leave their mouth, Wolfgang held a protective arm in front of them.

“Ms. Madison,” he started, her name dripping with a sense of annoyance they had never heard him use toward her before, “I can assure you there is absolutely nothing to worry about. Mx. Figueroa merely sought my counsel alone; I believe they are well within their rights to do so.”

The golfer gaped, caught entirely off guard by his response. Straightening his tie, Wolfgang spoke once more, authoritative as ever, “We have agreed that sleeping in pairs will be our best method of protecting ourselves, have we not? Mx. Figueroa was merely facilitating the process independently. If they consider themself to be safest in the presence of one person in particular, it only makes sense that they seek that presence when they will be most vulnerable.”

Another slap met his arm, even less conspicuous and somehow even more forceful. He glanced only long enough to notice them pouting, flushed pink and avoiding eye contact. He merely linked elbows in retaliation. “Therefore, in order to expedite things, we have decided to share a dorm. Hopefully this will make further pairing simpler.”

“Will it ever,” Toshiko chirped, eyes sparkling behind her fan, “The strings of fate have already begun to weave a beautiful tapestry of young hearts… It's a sign, it is time I become love’s loom!” She struck a dramatic pose as Atticus tensed their arm, feeling like they could combust.

“Yep, cool, great! Well, we better get to bed. Night everybody–” They barely finished speaking before yanking Wolfgang into his dorm behind them. As soon as the door shut, they shook him off and burrowed their face in their sweater. Their new roommate straightened himself, chuckling lightly, “So, what was that about?” They grumbled into their sleeves.

“Shut up, alright? I haven't forgotten about this afternoon, y’know!”

“I know.” The humor dissipated from his voice, “And I’m sorry. It shouldn't have taken as long as it did for me to swallow my pride and stand firmly beside you. I figured standing up for you against Ms. Madison’s unfounded accusations could be the first step toward proving my faith in you. I can only hope to also earn your forgiveness along the way.”

Atticus was silent for a moment, then let out a long-suffering sigh. “Thank you, Wolfgang. Really, that means a lot to me.” They met his eyes for the first time since they entered the room. “Honestly, the thing that upset me the most was…” They huffed, seemingly embarrassed.

“What upset me most was the thought that maybe I had cost myself the most important friendship I’ve made here.” Once more they looked away, catching the worried furrow of his brow in their periphery, “I was so afraid that you would see me as a traitor for defending Eva like that. I didn't regret what I said– frankly, I still don't– but I couldn't help the shame I felt when something I said made you… refuse to even look at me.”

“Atticus,” he shook his head, carefully approaching their spot on the sofa, “Atticus, listen to me. I swear to you, I would never abandon you for standing up for someone in need. And I certainly wouldn't abandon you for merely speaking your mind; truly, I find it to be what you do best.”

They fiddled with the ends of their sleeves as he gingerly sat beside them, dipping his head slightly in order to see their face, “I should have never let my own… complicated relationship toward Ms. Tsunaka affect my judgment like that. You're far too important to me.” They couldn't stop the smile creeping up their face, muttering a small ‘thanks’.

“Besides,” he placed a hand atop theirs, “You were right. I had no reason to disagree, or to be petulant for that matter.”

“I was?”

“You were. Despite our status as Ultimates, we are collectively still quite young; some significantly more than others. We may be extraordinarily gifted, but we are adolescents all the same. It doesn't make the behavior right, but it certainly puts it into perspective: we as a group are still in a phase of maturing and overcoming juvenile behavior. Deception is, of course, cause for concern regardless of the context, but there is no excuse for treating our classmates as outsiders; especially for superficial reasons.”

Atticus sighed, rubbing their thumb against his, “At least someone actually listened to me.” Wolfgang smiled, giving their hand a gentle squeeze, “I always do. It is my job after all, being the Ultimate White Knight and all.”

They doubled over, snorting with laughter and startling him momentarily. Throwing their head back, they wiped the jovial tears forming with their free hand, “Oh my god, that’s fucking hysterical…” The slowly subsiding giggles got a second wind as they covered their face. “Were you saving that one all day?”

Wolfgang shrugged, the smirk making its way across his face hiding absolutely nothing, “Perhaps. I simply figured that if we were all getting improperly silly ultimate titles that I was no exception. We may not be the best of friends, per se, but if supporting the Ultimate ‘Animal Guy’ means standing in solidarity with the Ultimate Mathlete, then so be it. Flowery titles are overrated anyway.”

Atticus smiled and bumped shoulders with him, “Well said, white knight,” they chuckled, “So, what about everyone else, huh? Jean’s obviously the Ultimate Pirate now, right?”

“Unquestionably,” he laughed, “He would absolutely despise it if you said so to his face, but such is the way of Terrible Talent Titles.

They placed a hand to their chin. “Exactly, the Triple-T,” they used their best ‘sage wisdom’ voice, which promptly crumbled away as the both of them devolved into hastily hushed giggles.

The rest of the night was spent deciding the worst possible way to describe their classmates’ talents, good-natured jabs in every direction, and a symphony of laughter that left cheekbones sore and neighbors exasperated. Neither knew what new horror tomorrow might hold. But for the night, they were safe and they were happy.

Atticus awoke with a huff.

Rather, they would have– if they had ever managed to actually fall asleep. Instead, they stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Thoughts about the horrible situation they found themself in swarmed like angry hornets in their mind. One moment they were boarding the train to the prestigious Eden’s Garden Academy, throwing passing glances at their new peers. The next moment, they were regaining consciousness in a strange windowless building and learning about the “killing game” all of them had been thrust into.

As if merely being trapped with chatty strangers wasn't bad enough.

They missed the animals. The thought burst forth suddenly in their mind, muffling all else. They missed studying nature right in the midst of it. They missed all the comfort that their Ultimate Zoologist always brought. Atticus let a sigh out into the silent room, rubbing their fingers against their temples.

This isn't working, they thought, sloppily tying back their hair and lifting their glasses from the nightstand. I need some air.

With almost practiced precision, they rolled out of bed and quietly padded over to the door. Bracing for the light of the hallway, they slowly cracked the door enough to slip out, gently returning it to the hinge to make as little sound as possible. A sigh of relief followed the minuscule creak, and they started toward the exit.

“Mx. Figueroa?”

Shit. They nearly jumped out of their skin at the familiar gentle voice coming from behind them. For a moment, they steeled their nerves before finally glancing over their shoulder.

“Wolfgang, hey!” Atticus’ voice was cautiously low, cracking only slightly– at which they cringed. Of course it had to be him, they thought, just my luck. They could only imagine how they looked, rumpled sleepwear and frizzy curls thrown haphazardly into a ponytail. “Did I wake you up? Oh my god, I am so sorry–”

He chuckled, a sound that made Atticus’ ears burn, “No apologies needed. To be honest, I haven't slept a wink tonight. I was actually planning to search for something that could alleviate that, if you can believe it.”

Wolfgang, on the other hand, made the whole “freshly crawled out of bed” thing look easy; hair clearly tousled while appearing almost purposeful, decidedly shitty academy pajamas that hung in a surprisingly flattering way a far cry from his typical tailored suit. It’s totally unfair, Atticus thought, trying their damnedest to keep up with this conversation without becoming distracted by his kind gaze.

“Ah,” they stammered, collecting themself once more, “Me too. I was… just about to go out to the courtyard. Get some… air, quote unquote,” This once again made him laugh, at which they unconsciously puffed their chest with pride. “Would you wanna… join me?” He smiled, taking careful and quiet steps to stand at their side. Atticus suddenly felt like any remaining coherent thoughts they had were turned to static.

“I’d be delighted to,” he gently patted their shoulder, almost whispering in their ear, “Though I must warn you… I make no promises of providing particularly riveting company. I do hope you will at least make it back to your dorm before I bore you to sleep.”

They burst out with a laugh, good-naturedly shoving him with one hand and slapping the other over their mouth in hopes of preserving the quiet. It made for a perfect excuse to shield the growing flush of their cheeks as they made their way to the exit door.

Atticus let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding when the doors to the ‘outside’ opened. They weren't convinced that the screen dome would display nighttime: a room of eternal daylight seemed perfectly on-brand for the rest of the hellish circumstances. But the courtyard was blanketed in darkness, the concave false clouds being replaced by an unnatural amount of stars. At the very top was a facsimile of the moon, completing the image of true outdoors.

“Y’know,” they piped up, still staring up at the ‘sky’, “I didn't exactly set my expectations high, but this is actually kinda beautiful. Almost like I’m really out stargazing.” They sat at the edge of the gazebo, crossing their hands in their lap. Wolfgang soon joined them, following their gaze up to the top of the dome.

“It is quite nice.” He glanced at them momentarily, nearly forgetting himself. Pulling his eyes away, he started again, “Ashamed as I am to say, I can’t even remember the last time I really stargazed.”

Atticus gasped, their faux-offended look almost being lost in the low light, “You haven't gone stargazing? What the hell!”

Wolfgang held up his hands in surrender as they both laughed. “I’ve committed a grave offense, I know! I suppose I just never had the time alongside my studies.” They placed their hands on their hips, jokingly tutting and shaking their head.

“Well, I guess I can forgive you this time,” they smirked, nudging him with an elbow, “But you better enjoy this to the fullest, dammit! We’re making up for lost time, so don't forget this!”

He laughed, gently pushing back with his shoulder, “Of course, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The courtyard was comfortably quiet for a while. Time felt like merely a suggestion as opposed to a rule. Wolfgang finally broke the silence.

“So, Mx. Figueroa,” he slowly raised his voice from a whisper as he met their gaze, “What led you to zoology?” Atticus quickly shifted their eyes away, unable to think while making eye contact with him.

“Oh, well,” they gently patted their damp palms against their pant legs, “It’s a little embarrassing to say, but I think I’ve always connected more with animals than humans. I’ve… never really understood people; we have so many unspoken arbitrary standards and rules. But when I started studying creature behavior, it’s like everything finally made sense! They act so logically, and yet they have the capacity for genuine emotion and even complex thought! They don't have to justify themselves, they just… are.” He watched in amazed silence as they became more passionate the longer they spoke. Atticus was so often a passive force, listening far more often than they spoke. He had never seen them so confident in themself. Suddenly, he became all too aware of the heat reaching his face.

Their face dropped in a split second, flushing. “Ah, I’m sorry,” their hands waved wildly, as if trying to clear the air of their words, “I talked for way too long, I don't know what happened–”

“No,” Wolfgang jumped, feeling more frazzled than he could ever remember, “Please, don't be! You have nothing to be sorry for, I like listening to you.”

He held both of their hands gently in his, only noticing after hastily grabbing them out of the air. Neither moved an inch for an infinite stretch of time until he clumsily released their wrists. The tension in the air suffocated any words that could've possibly been shared.

“We– I should probably–” Atticus stammered, “It’s… getting late. I think.” They stumbled up from the gazebo steps, with Wolfgang never too far behind.

They couldn't find the right words to say. They couldn't find any words. Any semblance of language drowned in the fresh memory of his soft hands clasped protectively around theirs. Their mouth gaped in their search for syllables. Somehow, finally, the answer was finally fished out.

“Um,” they looked everywhere except into the eyes locked squarely on their face, “Guh– Goodnight, Wolfgang!”

He cleared his throat, desperately attempting to regain his usual composure. With an awkward wave and a nod, he finally spoke.

“Goodnight, Atticus.”

Closing the courtyard door as quietly as possible, they sprinted back to their dorm. Nearly slamming the door shut, they leapt into bed, not even bothering to remove their glasses before shoving their face into the pillows to scream as quietly as they could manage.