Chapter Text
I don’t want to be a rogue.
Dante repeated it to himself, like a talisman, as he laid in bed and stared at the alarm clock on the bed. Over and over, like saying it enough would turn it into the truth.
I don’t want to be a rogue. I want to stay in Talon.
Ember had, at least, not pressed for an answer to her question. Hadn’t pressed for anything, actually. When he asked to be left alone, she backed off to her own room, with promises to talk more in the morning, or whenever he wanted to talk. It felt nearly foreign, for her to back off when he asked instead of pushing him to rush into something head-first with her, grinning back at him and challenging to keep up, Dante. Always pressing ahead, while he lagged at her heels. He probably rattled her more than he intended when he… came out.
Still weird, to think about it like that. All of those terms felt distinctly human. Off-limits, because Dante was only supposed to be mimicking these sorts of experiences, not feeling them directly. He wasn’t even supposed to be mimicking these sorts of experiences, because that wasn’t becoming of Talon’s newest, best and brightest Chameleon.
He didn’t tell Ember about that particular development— being a Chameleon. Ember didn’t talk about what happened during her training, anymore, and she’d stopped asking Dante, so he didn’t have any reason to tell her. But it confirmed what he already knew: he couldn’t be nonbinary, because he was part of Talon. Or he couldn’t be part of Talon, because he was nonbinary. There wasn’t an option where he could have both.
And it pressed one of Ember’s worries into his mind. One that he had brushed off, because his trainer had told him they’d stay together, but his trainer had been teaching him how and when to lie. Ember wasn’t a Chameleon. They were supposed to be loyal to the organization beyond all else: beyond themselves, and certainly beyond each other. What motivation did Talon have, then, to keep them together?
I want to stay in Talon. I belong in Talon.
It didn’t quite land the way it used to.
His room was dark, curtains drawn tight to shut out the streetlights, so it was obvious when his phone lit up. He grabbed for it, blinking an exhausted haze out of his eyes, to see that Ember had sent him an article over text: Coming out as Trans or Nonbinary, accompanied by a spamming of heart emoticons. Which was better than her hating him, or him lying to her for the rest of his life.
She’d… certainly given him some things to think about. Things that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about, because he hadn’t allowed himself to think beyond how to hide it, or a worst-case scenario keeping him up at night. But hearing the word sibling come out of her mouth instead of brother, asking what he wanted to call himself, made him feel something bright and hopeful well up in his throat until he thought he’d choke. He sent her back a thumb’s up, clicked on the article, and spent a while staring at it without reading it.
I don’t want to be a rogue. I don’t want to be a rogue.
Dante sighed and opened up a different conversation. Because there were some things Ember couldn’t answer, some things he couldn’t ask her without admitting even more to him, but Riley had kept his secrets without question or falter, and never asked Dante to pay him back for it. Dante trusted him to keep one more.
Dante: what did it feel like to leave?
He didn’t expect a quick response— it was nearing midnight, and Riley probably had better things to do than to respond to some hatchling’s every question. Still, it took less than thirty seconds for a waiting bubble to appear, and two minutes for Riley to respond.
Riley: It wasn’t easy for the first few weeks. But the longer I was away, the more I realized how much worse I’d been doing inside Talon, and how much freer my life was after I left. Kind of like cutting off a limb to free yourself from a snare, if that makes sense; you feel the absence, but you’re able to move away from what was hurting you.
Riley: I don’t regret leaving. I haven’t regretted it in years. And I’d be willing to help you leave, if that’s what you and Ember wanted.
Dante didn’t respond to that for a long time. Responding would make it real. It would force him to make a choice: Ember wasn’t here to talk him into rule-breaking, giving him plausible deniability. There weren’t any trainers and teachers around to talk him out of it, either. Just him, and the options in front of him.
Dante: I think I want to meet in-person tomorrow. Can that happen?
He didn’t have to wait long.
Riley: Of course.
*
After he finished training in the morning, Dante went to the boutique attached to the surf shop and bought that dress.
He didn’t know if he’d ever wear it. He was pretty sure he couldn’t think that far ahead. But he wanted the option to be there, just in case. He stuffed it in the trunk of the car, where any guardians would think it was Ember’s and any overbearing twins would—
Ember already knew. She knew, and it didn’t matter to her.
“Dude. Are you… good?” Calvin asked, poking his shoulder. His friend group was having a beach day, which was a nice way to say causing havoc for tourists and ogling at girls. They seemed to be in the ogling girls part of the day, sitting on their towels and taking in the scenery, occasionally pointing someone out and talking among each other. They knew better by now than to try to include him in those conversations, so he was largely left to his own devices. It gave Dante time to think, at least. He had about thirty more minutes before he was going to break one of Talon’s biggest rules. The one thing that they’d told him, under no circumstances, to seek out, regardless of any extenuating circumstances. Pre-meditated, this time, and without anyone pushing him to do it. He felt a thick, heavy dread coiling in his gut, and beneath that, a buzzing of something that he was usually good at not acknowledging. Something far more dangerous. Intrigue. Excitement.
Calvin asked his question, and Dante had already decided to break one rule. Might as well break another.
“Yeah, I think I’m nonbinary.”
Calvin blinked slowly. Dante looked at the ocean, a serene shade of blue, feeling the salty breeze push through his hair.
“Damn,” Calvin finally replied. “That’s a change of tune.”
“Yep.”
“What brought it on?”
Dante couldn’t explain everything. Talon and its requirement of respectability, how he spent so much time in a body that wasn’t quite his own because it felt better than his real form, how he’d wasted so much time being jealous of his sister for all the wrong reasons. Those things were secret, and even the parts that weren’t, he doubted Calvin would understand. But he could give Calvin something.
“I stole Ember’s clothes,” Dante said. When Calvin snorted, he punched his shoulder, far lighter than Dante had hit him last month. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not! I’d never laugh. I’m… uh, happy you decided to tell me. It means a lot, man. I mean— um, you know what I meant. I’m trying to think of a non-gendered term and I’m coming up blank,” Calvin scratched the bridge of his nose. Dante found himself snorting as well. “So, do you know what you’re gonna do about it?”
Dante gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He’d expected, in the same parts of himself that was still telling him not to meet with Riley, for it to be harder to tell the truth. Not to mention he was telling it to a human who would tell all of his human friends, spreading a scandal that would no-doubt make it back to his trainer by the end of the week. He’d expected to be afraid of his hatred, or to be afraid of breaking a direct order from Talon. Instead there was… not relief, not quite, not with what he was planning on doing. There was still that ever-present dread in the forefront of his mind. But at least this didn’t make it any worse, and laying it out in the open, plain and simple, didn’t make him flinch. It didn’t feel like relief, but it felt like some sort of victory nonetheless.
Besides, Calvin had been the person to spark Dante’s questions. It felt fair that he could know.
In the back of the car, next to the dress was a backpack. He generally used it when he was hiking with his friends, or going rock climbing, because it could carry a decent amount without slowing him down. He’d packed it in the early morning, filling it with everything that he wouldn’t want to leave behind if he weren’t to return home. He was meeting Riley for a talk, they knew. A conversation and nothing more, just like last time.
But the bag was still packed, waiting for them. Just in case.
“Yeah,” They finally replied. “I have some thoughts.”