Chapter Text
Maybe coming up with a plan would've been slightly easier if Ian had had a good night's rest. Unfortunately, he had to wake up in the early hours of the morning to clean up the disgusting mess the little dragon had made on his bedroom floor--which, in hindsight, was his own fault for not taking such a thing into account. He made a mental note to take her outside whenever his mother's back was turned. Said mess had nearly made him throw up, and it didn't help that he was really only half-awake at the time, but at the very least he didn't have to worry about waking Barley up--one wouldn't think so to look at his hyperactive personality, but his older brother was quite the heavy sleeper. This made their mom his only real concern as he had to get the things to clean up, then put back when he was done; he didn't think she would notice immediately if anything was out of place, but better safe than sorry.
Then, when he was done and he could finally settle back down in his bed...he could hear her emerging from the closet, where she'd taken to hiding after he'd woke up the first time. He was then treated to the sound of her claws scraping the wood as she paced around the room. This went on for about half an hour, during which Ian had let out a frustrated sigh and buried his head beneath his pillow in an attempt to block out the sound. Maybe he would take his mother's advice and consider having a rug on his floor.
Then, just when the pacing finally stopped and quiet had settled back into the room...she'd jumped back on the bed and climbed on top of him. Ian groaned as she turned a couple of times on his stomach before finally laying down and curling up into a ball. Her tail then ended up near his face; the fur that was on the end of it kept tickling his nose and chin. He had to push it away several times before it would finally stay where it was. He thought that would be the end of it, until sometime later she had stretched out and shifted onto her back, which caused her spines to dig into him. It did help that said spines weren't fully grown yet, but they were still rather uncomfortable, so Ian ended up pushing her off onto the mattress next to him. This caused her to let out a protesting whine, to which Ian responded with a grumpy "shush."
About an hour or so after that, when Ian was finally drifting back off to sleep...he was startled back to consciousness when the dragon started to kick him. "Seriously?!" he moaned, his voice clouded with sleep. He propped himself on his elbows and turned his head to reprimand her...only to find that she wasn't awake. She was growling quietly, her back legs kicking, her front legs and tail twitching.
Oh...she was dreaming. Okay, in spite of his sleep-deprivation-fueled grouchiness...that was pretty cute. Still, though.
Ian let out a huge yawn and reached over to poke her side. She didn't respond immediately; it seemed that she was on the hunt. Ian then shook her, and this time he succeeded in waking her--her head snapped up and she blinked several times. Ian then dropped his head back on his head and went to sleep.
When morning finally came in earnest, Ian did not want to get out of bed. It turned out, though, that the dragon's earlier antics were only part of the reason for this. She had curled up next to him fast asleep, her spines thankfully facing away from him. Her presence brought to mind a few memories from years ago, when Ian would crawl into either Barley's or his mother's bed whenever he'd suffered a nightmare. Somehow, spending those nights with someone else had brought him a sense of security, one he didn't have when he was alone. He was getting that same feeling right now, but it was also putting him back to sleep, when the sun was up and he really should be getting up and around.
I wish somebody told me that pets make it harder to wake up in the morning. Ian shook his head and mentally corrected himself; she wasn't his pet. Although...Ian forced himself into a sitting position with a tired sigh and looked at her, the movement rousing her in turn.
He should probably give her a name.
Ian was only eleven years old, but even he knew that giving names to things was a surefire way to get attached emotionally. Even so, though, he couldn't really keep calling her "dragon", could he? It just wasn't practical. He held his chin in his hand as he watched her stretch her body and yawn. "Hmmm..." he said thoughtfully. "You do have that spot of green over your eye...how about I call you Spot?" Ian cringed as he said this, though--even with a green spot on her eye, that was still a stupid name. For her part, the dragon started to scratch her ear, apparently not caring either way.
"Okay, um...how about...Lime? Because you're green!" He said the word aloud a few times, testing to see how it sounded. He discarded it, though. It just didn't feel right. "Speedy...?" he tried. She was fast, after all. And yet...that didn't feel right, either. Ian frowned. This might be trickier than he thought.
Ian ended up going through quite a few potential names--Dottie, Bluebell (because he'd noticed that her tongue was blue), Stringbean, Taffy--but none of them seemed to want to stick. He'd never imagined that coming up with a name for an animal could be so difficult.
"Helloooooo, Sir Iandoooooore!"
Ian gulped. That voice was always unmistakable.
"Art thou awake, Sir Iandore of Lightfoot?!"
Well, if I wasn't before, I definitely would be now, wouldn't I?!
The dragon's ears perked, and Ian noticed that this time she didn't immediately run. She still looked rather nervous, though, especially as they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Ian shot to his feet and scooped the little dragon up, then all but tossed her into his closet and shut the door.
"Come hither and embrace the new day!"
Ian bolted to his bedroom door and yanked it open just as Barley reached it. "Hey, Barley," Ian greeted his brother with an anxious laugh.
"And a fine hello to you in turn, little brother!" Barley replied enthusiastically.
How does he do it? Ian wondered. How can he stay up all night, sleep like he just died and then wake up all the way just like that? It hardly seemed fair, especially since his brother made it look so easy. Meanwhile wakefulness was still a slow process for Ian at this point in time, and it must've shown on his face, because a look of concern crossed Barley's face.
"Hey, you doing okay, little bro?" he asked.
Ian nodded and forced a smile on his face. "Yeah, just tired. Had a rough night, didn't get a lot of sleep." He mentally kicked himself as he said this; the last thing he needed was for Barley to press him for details, because Ian was all too aware of what a terrible liar he was. To his surprise, though, Barley simply grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders.
"Well, you know what would be a really good way to wake up? Only some quality time with your chivalrous big brother as he obliterates the forces of evil from the comfort of our living room!" He ruffled Ian's hair affectionately.
Ian was about to respond--with what, he wasn't quite sure--but was interrupted by a sound coming from behind him. Ian turned his head, and he felt a pit open in his stomach. The dragon had gotten out and was sniffing at the socks he'd carelessly tossed to the floor yesterday. Apparently he hadn't shut the closet door all the way, and now she was right there in the open! His small consolation was that Barley hadn't noticed her, yet, so Ian hurriedly stepped out from under his brother's hold and put his hand on the door.
"Uh, sorry, Barley, but I-I-I-I--" he stammered. Barley's face had taken on an utterly baffled look, which wasn't helping Ian's pathetic attempts to come up a viable reason for his freakout. He settled on, "I've gotta do my math homework!"
Barley frowned in confusion. "Ian, last night you told Mom you didn't have any work to worry about this weekend."
He had? Oh, shoot--he had! Ian cursed himself: why hadn't he lied about that? He could've used that as an excuse for all the caring he knew he'd have to do for the dragon!
"Well, I-I-I changed my mind! I mean, uh--" Ian could feel himself get desperate as the confusion in Barley's expression began to morph into suspicion. "I lied--I mean, I didn't lie, I just forgot--!" In his panic, Ian turned to look behind him...just in time to see the dragon devouring his socks. Ian squeaked. "Ijustgottastudybecauseschoolsayssookay?!" He slammed the door and spun around, charging at the dragon and grabbing hold of the second sock hanging from her jaws, its sibling long gone.
"Give it here!" he hissed at her, "Bad dragon! Bad dragon, spit it out!" The dragon growled and shook her head fiercely, trying to dislodge Ian's hold on his sock. In the end it didn't matter, as Ian heard his door reopening behind him. Ian closed his eyes briefly, then turned his head to look at Barley, who was gaping at the scene in front of him. In his distraction, the dragon successfully wrestled the sock away from Ian and swallowed it whole.
"It...it..." Barley stuttered, and if it weren't for the situation, Ian would've been amazed at his brother being speechless for once. Ian swallowed, his hands starting to tremble.
"IT'S A DRAGON!"
Ian jumped at his brother's excited shout, which also scared the dragon back into ducking under his bed. "Shhhhhh!" Ian said furiously as he once again shut his bedroom door, not even bothering to stop Barley as he made his way to the side of the bed and got on his hands and knees to peer underneath. "Do you want Mom to hear?!"
"She's not gonna hear, she's out on her morning jog," Barley told him. Oh, that was right--now that their mom had declared Barley old enough to look after Ian and the house without supervision (albeit with constant reminders to keep the doors and windows locked and not answer strangers), she had taken to jogging a block or two on Saturday mornings. Ian felt a weight slide off his chest at the reminder. That still left this, though.
Barley had started making cooing noises, reaching his hand under the bed and trying to coax the hatchling out. Ian couldn't see her, but he could hear her whine at the back of her throat. Finally Barley withdrew his hand and sat up. "Where did he come from?" he asked.
"She," Ian corrected. "And I, uh...I found her. At school." Ian began to explain how he'd found her on his way to the school bus. How she'd been hiding and trembling under some bushes, and...
"Oh, no!" Ian slapped a palm to his forehead.
"What?" Barley asked in an alarmed tone.
"She's hurt, that's what!" Right as he said this, the hatchling reemerged from the bed and had carefully made her way over to huddle by Ian's feet. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his lap. "She's scratched right here." He cautiously lifted her wing to expose the injury on her side. Barley made his way over to them and inspected her. "I don't know if she had an accident," Ian continued, "or if she got in a fight, but I don't think it's been looked at." He hated himself for forgetting about this, for possibly leaving her in pain without doing anything about it.
Barley noticed the look on his face, and his tone was reassuring. "It's okay, it doesn't need to be looked at. See?" Confused, Ian leaned forward to look. Barley spoke, his voice matter-of-fact, "Dragons can heal quicker than other animals. You only really have to take one to a vet if the wound is really serious." Now that Barley mentioned it, the scratches didn't look near as bad as they had yesterday. Most of the blood he could see was old and dried, and the scratches themselves were smaller. He could see some bald spots where the skin was smooth, unmarked and yellow, but where the scales hadn't yet grown back over them. Ian felt relieved and he petted the dragon.
"So you found her at school, stuck her in your backpack, brought her home, and you've been keeping her up here ever since?" Barley said.
Ian nodded. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it all up."
"And you didn't ask me to help you?!" Barley sounded genuinely offended, and Ian snorted.
"Maybe you forgot, but you weren't even on the bus with me."
"Yeah, well..." Barley trailed off, then recovered. "You still could've let me know after we all got home! Gargamon's Tail, you're gonna be in huge trouble if Mom finds out!"
"Yeah, I know that!" Ian said, frustrated. "I've always known that, but she looked so sad and alone and...and...I just couldn't leave her there..." To his embarrassment, Ian started to get choked up, and he immediately stopped talking. For a few moments, both boys were quiet. Then Barley spoke again, his voice much softer.
"Can I hold her...?"
In spite of himself Ian smiled, and gently handed the hatchling over. Barley was still growing, so his hands nearly dwarfed the small creature. She eyed him suspiciously for a couple of moments, but after feeling him stroke her back, she settled down and shut her eyes. Barley stared at her for a moment, his hazel eyes glowing with happiness and awe. Then he looked up at his little brother.
"Why didn't you come to me?" he asked.
Ian sighed and looked down, unable to meet his brother's eyes. "If I get caught...I didn't want you to get in trouble, too..."
"Pfffft. My little brother is breaking the laws laid down by our queenly mother for the greater good!" Barley said, entirely unconcerned. If anything, he sounded like he was starting to enjoy this. "How could his knightly partner-in-crime not help?"
Ian looked at his brother incredulously, but he couldn't deny the sincerity on his older brother's face. He found himself gazing at the hatchling contemplatively. He was tired. But more than that, he was beginning to realize how challenging it truly was to have an animal around. Maybe he should accept Barley's help. So he nodded hesitantly. "Okay."
Barley's eyes were shining in excitement. Ian couldn't exactly share his brother's feelings--his sense of dread about the possibility of being caught and grounded forever was as strong as ever--but it did feel as though his situation had gotten a bit easier. Then he sighed.
"She ate my socks."
Barley let out an unexpected laugh. "Well, I'm not surprised! Dragons are capable of eating just about anything! And she probably hasn't eaten anything since at least yesterday. Your socks were probably her breakfast!"
"Well, we've gotta find other things she can eat instead, then." Ian got to his feet and retrieved his notebook from his backpack, grimacing as he noticed the claw marks the dragon had left on the front cover. He flipped it open to the first blank page he found and began to make a list.
Get dragon food.
Sneak dragon outside during the day.
Come up with better hiding places.
Find owner???
"Does she have a name?" Barley's voice startled Ian from his concentration.
"Huh?"
"I said, does she have a name?"
"Uh, no. I've been trying to come up with one because I felt weird just calling her 'dragon.'" Ian told Barley about most of the possible names he'd come up (though conveniently left out Spot--no need to give his brother ammunition to mock him). As Ian suspected, Barley looked skeptical.
"You're focusing too much on what she looks like, rather than what she is."
"What does that mean?" Ian asked, his brows furrowed.
"It means that yeah, she looks pretty and she's bright and colorful. But more than that...she's a dragon. A descendant of the ferocious, fiery beasts that would guard the most powerful of artifacts, who ranged from the wise to the wicked," Ian groaned as Barley's voice rose dramatically, like it always did when he started monologuing. "...creatures that breathed fire and demanded the respect of all--"
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Ian quickly cut him off; Barley started to scratch the dragon's ears, sulking at having his inspirational speech interrupted. Right at that moment, though, the hatchling's eyes opened and she started sniffling. The brothers looked at her, puzzled...and then she sneezed, a small puff of fire escaping her mouth.
Ian let out a shout of surprise as flames started to creep up the corner of his quilt, and Barley launched himself to his feet--the dragon falling from his lap and retreating back under the bed as he did so--and yanked the quilt off Ian's bed, swiftly throwing it onto the floor and stamping on the fire with his shoes until it went out. Ian placed a hand over his pounding heart, lamenting the smell of smoke that now hung in the air. Barley then gasped.
"Blaze!" he said triumphantly.
Ian cocked an eyebrow. "What?" he said dumbly.
"That's her name! Blaze!"
"Barley, Blaze sounds like a boy's name, not a girl's."
"Nuh-uh! There have totally been girls named Blaze!"
"Like who?"
"Trust me, they're there!"
Before Ian could tell him otherwise, the dragon returned. She looked at the quilt first, then the boys, and she did look rather guilty. "Blazey," Ian said.
"Huh?"
Ian shrugged sheepishly. "Blazey," he repeated. It felt right to him; the name felt like a good blend of the fierceness of her ancestors and the endearing creature that stood before them now.
Barley looked thoughtful, then he smiled and nodded. "Blazey." Blazey's tail started to wag; did she understand what was happening? Ian didn't know, but she seemed happy, so it made him happy, too.
It was a good moment, with a sense of companionship and unity in the air. A moment that passed when Blazey started to make hacking sounds, then threw up a small steaming pile of vomit. There was a beat of silence as Ian gaped. Then Barley said cheerfully, "Your socks are back!"
Ian's hand once again found his forehead.