The old lady stared at the fruit through her thin watery eyes, her hands slightly shaking.  Was it a nectarine or a peach?  Or maybe that weird apple that Jennifer was talking about yesterday. She wasn’t sure.  There wasn’t even a fragrance that she could smell with it. She gave a soft sigh and put the fruit back.  It had been so much easier when her husband was here.  He always knew how to make her smile and forget about how the passage of time had not been kind to her.  And yet she had still outlived him by at least ten years.

Well.  She would see him soon… especially if the cost of groceries kept going up.  She might find herself running out of money yet.

With a soft sigh she put back the fruit and shuffled over to the hazy yellow shapes, her gait unsteady.  Those at least she knew those were bananas.  And they were probably cheaper than whatever apple-hybrid that that new generation was eating.  Where had the world gone so wrong?  Back in her day her grandparents had retired at the ripe-old age of fifty and were able to afford their house, cars, groceries, have money left over to spoil grandchildren and even leave a healthy inheritance to their loved ones when they passed.  The good old days.  Before greed and capitalism took over and rotted everyone’s minds.

And nowadays she could barely afford to eat.  Thank god that she and Harold never had any kids. She couldn’t imagine the disappointment on their faces when all she had to give him were the trinkets that dotted her little house. Tears dotted her eyes.  She was so scared of the future.  What would it hold for her?  And…

She bumped into someone.  “WATCH IT HAG!” The loud, acidic voice snapped.  She couldn’t see the boy’s face but, judging by the way the voice wavered between octaves, he had to bet between fourteen and eighteen. Still so young.

And already so cynical with the world.  She felt bad for him.

“My apologies, young man.  I did not see you there…”

“Of course you didn’t, you old bat.  Your glasses are about as thick as Kardashian’s pussy!”

The words were clearly meant to try and surprise her. Or maybe to make her disgusted. Such language.  Children never truly changed, did they?  Especially the ones with the high opinions of themselves…

* * * * *

The boy sneered to his friends as he pocketed the older lady’s wallet.  It had just been laying on top of everything inside of her purse, just ripe for the taking. He couldn’t resist.  They needed it more than her, the price of their favourite vodka had gone up.  He doubted that she would even miss it.  She had on a wedding ring.  Her husband would just give her some more government-funded money and she could go out and buy more yarn and pea soup.  He gestured at his friends to continue walking.  Act natural.

“Seriously, I think it is about time that those older folks know your place and just die.  Their time is over.  Make way for the young.  Over population is a serious issue these days and, you know what happens when a chicken can’t lay eggs or work anymore…”

His wrist, the one holding the lady’s wallet was seized, clasped tight in deadly grip, never letting go as they slammed the wrist into a nearby display.  The boy cried out, pain radiating from his wrist and traveling up his arm, forcing him to drop the wallet.  But that was the least of his worries.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?” he demanded, eyes unable to focus on the shadowy figure due to the pain. Whoever had attacked him had a death wish. But his mates weren’t backing him up.  Instead he could see them slowly backing away, leaving him on his own.  They were murmuring something as they disappeared to the other aisles.  

Cowards.  Here he thought that his friends were true.  Fine.  He could do this on his own if he needed to.  He didn’t need anyone to hold him back.

When his vision returned, he could feel his stomach drop.

Long, curved bones were wrapped around his warm skin, just digging into him hard enough to make a slight mark.  There was not an ounce of flesh on the bones, he could see every knuckle, every joint, every crack in the bone.  And the noise…. He wasn’t sure how best to describe the grating noise that they made when they moved slightly.  It was enough to cause a shiver to go down his spine.  But still the boney hand held him tight, not letting him go.  The grip was as cold as steel and just as strong, keeping him pinned where he was against the display with little effort.

Slowly, against his better judgement, the boy’s eyes traveled up, scanning his attacker.  A dirty, threadbare hoodie caught his attention next.  It was obvious that there had been an unsuccessful attempt at cleaning the rag before being seen in public, but whatever had been spilled over it had stained it.  Deep browns mixed with a rust had intermingled and dried across what used to be a blue hoodie.

Up, up, up.  What he saw made no sense.

A manic grin smirked, the grin unwavering, unflinching, at him, lending to the unsettling atmosphere. Two deep, flickering, red eyes stared him down, unblinking.  Unafraid. Almost challenging him to make a move.  Give him an excuse to attack and fight.  The curve of the skull was interrupted by the chunk that was missing out of his skull…

Wait.

A skull.  He was staring at a skull.

No.  He was looking at the full thing.  A real live, honest to fucking hell skeleton stood in front of him.  Pinning him where he stood.  But… but that was impossible.  He had heard of the monsters escape, it had been all over the news.  Hell, even his old man had joined an anti-monster gang to try and keep the monsters out of the school system and out of ‘regular’ areas.

And here he was, being pinned by one in a grocery store of all places.  He could see that, up close, the skeleton wasn’t looking as smooth as he had originally thought.  The monster was absolutely covered in scars and raised bumps.  This… this monster had been in several fights.

The boy had the feeling that he did not lose.

“Let me go.” He snarled, trying to pull his hand away from the creature.  The creature didn’t even move, made no indication that he had even heard at him.  Those red eye lights just stared at him, unblinking. Uncaring.  The boy yanked at his arm again.  “OI I SAID LET-”

“Do you know what happens when a young rooster gets too big for his feathers?” a cracking voice asked.  It sounded unused, unneeded.  Like two rocks had been grinding together to make the noise.  And yet it was so soft, the boy could barely hear it.

“I beg your par-”

“I asked you a question.  Do you know what happens, when a young rooster gets too big for his feathers?  Tries to take over the roost?”  The voice had definitely come from the skeleton.  The eyes were focused in on him, watching his every move, every struggle.

The boy tried to pull away again.  “Let me g-”

“Answer the question first, and you’ll find yourself free.” The skeleton demanded, giving a yank to his hand.

Wincing slightly, the boy glared up at the monster.  He would make sure that they would all pay. “No. What happens when that happens?”

The skeleton almost seemed to like that answer.  The grin widened, stretching across his skull, the red eyes took on an extra sparkle.  The skeleton’s free hand slowly reached down, pulling the hoodie away from his body…

Exposing the large, silver axe that he had stashed there.

His breath caught, his heart clenched, and he felt his arms and legs go numb.  This wasn’t the first time that he had been in a life-or-death scenario.  His gang initiations came to mind as well.  Fight or flight.

But he didn’t have his knife or gun this time.  His so-called friends had held them for him this time.

The skeleton gave a low, rumbling, sinister laugh.  “The old rooster and the young battle it out. To the death.  The loser loses everything, to be fed to the wolves or others that night.  The winner walks away a proud winner, free to lead the hen house as he sees fit.” The skeleton leaned closer to him, dusty breath brushing against his ear and cheek. “Cock-a-doodle doo.”

Message loud and clear.

“What do you want from me?”

“Oh there is many things I could want from you. You to stop bothering the innocent patrons of this store.  You to leave innocent old ladies alone. And for you to leave her wallet where it is.” This last little bit came out as a snarl.

The boy gulped.  “I don’t have the wallet.  I already dropped it.”

The skeleton took his time to appraise him and then check the ground.  The pale, well-worn pink wallet was under the display that he had the boy pinned on.  He gave a cold, satisfied, chuckle.   “Good.  Starting to learn already.  Now. Go find your little groupies and get the hell out of here.  And if I ever find you in this area again… well.  You’re not the only rooster I’ve plucked and dressed for dinner.”

The threat was very clear.  

The boy grit his teeth, hating every second, but ran off as soon as he was able to.

The Surface is always beautiful.  The sun rises in the morning, the stars rise in the evening.  The birds sang and danced through the sky, bringing peace to those who heard their songs.  Stretch and Bee had heard of their father (before he disappeared) describe the Surface, but never once did they believe that they would see it for themselves. The child had always reset or killed, stealing the dream away from them and the others.

But now, now they were here.  A small town, not much bigger than their place in the Underground.  They were safe here.  The smaller towns seemed more accepting of monsters, more curious. 

And, perhaps most importantly, they could be open with their relationship.

Bucky.... with her bright blue eyes and deep brown hair, she was as beautiful inside as she was out.  Always quick to joke or laugh, to hold and kiss, the twins had fallen for her when she had fallen to the Underground. Neither could be without her so they had chosen to share. And once people got over the unorthodox part of the relationship, they too could see the beauty in it.

The three of them completed one another.  Bee, Stretch and Bucky.  They were together always.  That’s where they belonged. In one another’s arms and hearts.

The years passed both slowly and quickly for the three of them, blurring into waking up beside one another, of slow touches and kissing. Together they saw the birth of their children and watched their own slow growth.  Their kids ran in the backyard of the house they lived in, growing with the new generation.  One that saw monsters as equals. 

But there is something that the textbooks never said.  The monsters were full of power, of magic that lacked Determination. Monsters and Humans needed each other to depend on and do wonderful things, things that were never imagined.

Never once did they mention that monsters lived for centuries longer than humans.

The world turned and saw many changes, the years swirled past.  Slowly, Bucky’s hair streaked with grey and white, losing its vibrant colour.  Her eyes, though still a brilliant blue, faded and clouded, her skin slowly wrinkled and weakened. Bucky was aging, and the twins remained the same. Their bones remained ageless, their magic bright and clear.

Bucky slowly began to hobble, requiring more help from one of her lovers to get where she wanted to go. Her cane in one hand, her shaking arm resting in theirs.

But still she was theirs. Their woman, their lover.  Stretch and Bee smiled fondly down at the woman they loved, still seeing the beautiful woman that they fell in love with. Making sure she knew that they loved her, always.

Her health slowly deteriorated. It seemed that she was always gasping for breath, her eyes watering.  Her body shook all the time, even if it wasn’t cold. She slept a lot more, always tired, always weary.  And the twins were always beside her, ready for anything. She was still Bucky, no matter the shell that was around her.

There came days where Bucky did not seem to recognize the world around her. She would blink and stare, trying to read and understand the new signs that did not match up with the ones in her mind. Stretch and Bee would joke with her, slowly pulling her from her confusion. They loved her, they would always love her.  They would take her hand and steer her into more familiar areas.

Bucky knew what was coming. She could feel it in her rattling bones.  She was scared of it. The majority of her life she had been side by side with her beloved twins, her loves. 

And now... now the next part of life she would be taking alone.

It was a beautiful spring day, one many years after they came to the Surface.  Her beloved lilac bushes were blooming, their sweet scent perfuming the air. Birds were singing, chirping as loud as they could. Bucky sat in her favourite armchair, watching her grandchildren play in the garden. She could remember being that young, playing as they did, having the strength to walk more than five paces without pausing.

She had had a full, loving life.  Her loves, her friends, her children and now her grandchildren.... she was truly spoiled. 

It was then she knew that it was time.

“Stretch? Bee?” she called out, hearing her old, weak voice.

The two skeletons were beside her in an instant, looking just as they did when she first met them.  “what is it, love?” Stretch asked, taking her frail hand in his,

"can we get another pillow for you?” Bee asked, taking her other hand.

“Do you mind moving me to the loveseat and sitting with me a bit?” she asked them.  The loveseat faced the window so they could watch outside as well.  “I think I’ll be more comfortable with the two of you beside me.”

She couldn’t say what was coming. That would be too cruel.

“of course, dear. anything for you.” The two of them picked her up carefully, settling her on the couch, propping her cushions up so she would be comfortable, and sitting beside her. Stretch’s hand was around her shoulders, Bee’s her waist.  For a moment, Bucky felt like a young woman again, held by her loves, her protectors. “The two of you always made me so happy,” she said, smiling.  “Always looking out for me.  Making sure that I was happy. That I knew how much the both of you loved me, how much you cared. I love the two of you so very much.”

“hey now, we were lucky to find a woman to put with the both of our shenanigans and horrible humour.  no way were we ever going to let that go.” Bee said to her, rubbing her waist gently.

Stretch nodded, a soft smile on his teeth. “and you always make us happy.  every joke and hum, everything.  we love you Bucky. always will.”

Bucky’s eyes teared up and she smiled at the words.  “You both always know how to make a woman happy,” she said, wiping her eyes as they chuckled. She looked to her beloved twins before looking once more outside and to them again, memorizing their faces. She loved them so very much.  “I’m a little tired. Will you sit with me while I nap?”

Her eyes were already falling shut when the familiar blanket was pulled up over her legs, tucking the three of them in.  “of course, babe.  don’t need to ask us twice.” The two of them kissed her cheeks, already humming her favourite lullaby, causing her to smile as she drifted off.

* * * * * *

It was a couple hours later that Bee and Stretch tried to rouse the older woman. Perhaps she would be more comfortable in their bed?

The ghost of her last smile settled on her lips, she did not waken.