Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Magic was a weird, fucked up thing, according to Max. He could still barely stand Harrison's magic, if not because of all the weird shit it did, but because of how unpredictable it was. 

Like just now- one second, they were just sitting and talking in Nerris and Harrison's living room- it wasn't supposed to just be the four of them, Nikki had been supposed to be there too, but she had found some wounded animal and had to call off to take care of it- while the kids played around them, and the next second there was a bright flash of light that filled the room.

"Ah! Shit!" Max quickly blocked his eyes, blinking as the light disappeared from around him. "The hell was that?"

Nerris blinked in shock, staring at the two new additions to the party- a 10-year-old and a 16-year-old Max. "That was- that was definitely wild magic."

The little Max jumped. When the flash from the camera* faded, everything changed. "What the fuck?!"

" What the fuck? " Teen Max parroted, stumbling back a little from the sudden change of scenery. He knew the Wood Scouts didn't lace their weed- what the hell was going on?

Harrison blinked. "...Well, that one's... new."

Little Max looked around, taking a step away from the larger group of adults hanging out. "Where the fuck-?"

"Uhh- 'Marie, baby- d'you know what you did?" Nerris asked gently, though it still sounded a little freaked out.

"Not a damn clue." Amarie answered, also looking shocked.

"What the hell?" The fact that these adults looked familiar in a way that shouldn't have been happening only had little Max more freaked out, his eyes darting from face to face.

"Um... Max-es?" Neil said uncertainly. "Maybe... you should have a seat?"

Teen Max stared at him for a moment. "...holy fuck. Hoooly fuck. Neil how'd you get old? What the shit."

"Yeah, he's pretty high." Max was able to recognize it.

Little Max took a step away from him specifically, said adult looking too uncomfortably similar to his dad. "Where the fuck am I?!"

"Ok, hold on- everyone calm down, ok?" Nerris said gently. "Take some breaths and shut up for a minute, please."

"Fuck you, where the fuck am I?!" Little Max shot back.

"You in our house-" Nerris motioned between themself and Harrison, "and, um- technically you... in the future."

Harrison rubbed the back of his neck. "Um... I think it was... my magic. Well, my daughter's magic…"

"Someone did wild magic," Nerris clarified.

"Yeah, sorry. That happens a lot," Amarie said.

"Wild magic?" Little Max asked in frustrated disbelief.

"Wait- like, Harrison's stupid fucking magic?" Teen Max asked.

Harrison opened his mouth… and reconsidered, because that "stupid" magic did have them in this predicament right then. "Yeah, my... magic."

Little Max shifted uncomfortably, quietly double checking how he felt to make sure he wouldn't start puking handkerchiefs again.

"And it ain't stupid!" Amarie protested.

"...who's the kid?" Teen Max asked.

"Amarie; she's our oldest daughter," Nerris answered.

"...you guys fuck?"

Little Max stepped back, looking between who was clearly Harrison and Nerris, the lamest kids he knew besides Jermy. "...Ew."

"You don't gotta say it like that ."

"You always say you're ace!"

"I still am. But things have changed since I was 18."

"...What the fuck is-?" Little Max paused, starting to realize some things. First, this stupid teen him was somehow still close to Nerris at that age, and that his adult self was still hanging out with Nerris and Harrison. He knew he wanted to maintain friendships with Neil and Nikki, but Nerris and Harrison?

"Can we please just- let's relax for a minute, give us a moment to figure this out, alright?" Nerris tried again. "We ain't seen wild magic do this before."

Little Max folded his arms in frustration. He didn't like this one bit. He had no control over the situation and no idea how to get control over it.

"This is fucking ridiculous." Teen Max sighed, stuffing his hands in his pocket. "Harrison, I hate your magic. Have I told you that? I fucking hate it. Suck a dick."

"Sorry, I know... it can be a bit inconvenient…"

"Yeah yeah, we all hate Harrison's magic," Max agreed, waving it off a little. "How do you fix this?"

"Well, we need to figure out what this is, first," Harrison explained.

"Are they not just, like, grabbed from the past? They look like younger me's."

"But maybe they from other dimensions," Amarie suggested. "Or they copies or something."

"Exactly what Amarie said. If we just assume something, we might end up making new problems when we try to fix things."

"...don't- don't say that second one. I can't handle that idea right now," Teen Max said.

"What? That you a copy?"

"Anything that implies I didn't exist a minute ago."

"What's so bad about that?" Harrison asked.

"I just can't handle that right now, man."

"...how high are you?" Max asked.

"...I like, just smoked a couple bowls."

"Oh, you're stoned."

Little Max watched, slowly backing away. It was just too much to deal with.

Neil rubbed at his temple. "Of course he is... How are we supposed to figure out what happened?"

"Well, I'll need to test some things… with magic…" Harrison said. "Um... Nerris's magic might be able to get us some more insight…"

"I can try doing a tarot reading," Nerris offered.

"Ok, you guys do that. You-" Max pointed to teen Max, "c'mon, we're gonna sit out of this for a bit."

"Don't patronize me."

"Yeah yeah, just come on."

"Is there anything you want me to grab?" Harrison asked Nerris.

"Any of my tarot cards, please?" Nerris answered as the older two Maxes left to the backyard. Little Max froze as the other Maxes passed by, and then tried to sneak outside right behind them. Max saw him following them, but he didn't say anything yet; he just kept an eye on him.

"Shit, this is so fucking weird," Teen mumbled, sitting down at the table on the porch outside.

Little Max, assuming he hadn't been noticed, tried to find a spot to either hide in or escape the backyard, only for Max to call over, "Don't run off, alright? That's the last thing we need right now, and Nerrison live in the middle of nowhere anyway."

Little tensed up at suddenly being addressed, then frowned. "You're not the boss of me."

"We are literally in the middle of nowhere. You're not gonna get anywhere."

"I can find that out for myself."

Max rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Jesus, I was so full of myself…"

Little flipped him off, and Max returned the gesture. Little rolled his eyes and headed for what looked to be a gate in the fence. He got out and looked around to see what was around, whether a town or city was within walking distance, or if there was a nice place to hide and just be alone for a moment. Unfortunately, all that was around was some forestry behind the house. The next closest building was just another house.

Fucking figured. He was finally away from camp when he didn't want to be, and he was still stuck surrounded by stupid trees. He kicked a rock and started walking to find something to sit on out there at least.

Chapter Text

As Max and Little were having their little argument, Teen buried his face in his hands at the table, trying to process what the hell was going on. Max was quiet, not wanting to overwhelm him any more than he already was.

"...I'm gonna fucking kill Harrison," Teen mumbled.

Max rolled his eyes. "Good luck. His magic is probably the best self defense in the world."

"I literally could not give less of a fuck. I'm gonna kill him. Whyyyy did this have to happen right now?"

"Why, what's going on right now?"

"I can't think about things right now, and this is such a thing , man. We were just supposed to be taking a picture and chilling or whatever. Not this shit. There's so much stuff happening right now."

"This is beyond fucked up, so whatever you need just say the word."

"Oh fuck off, you sound like David."

Max rolled his eyes. "David wouldn't hand you a joint."

"I said sound."

"Just making sure you're aware I'm certainly not David."

"...David wouldn't get so many sick tattoos, either."

"Damn right they are," Max said with a smile, turning his arms a bit so Teen could see some better. He definitely looked a little in awe. 

"...is that a fucking cutting board?" Teen pointed out the one on Max's right wrist. "That's hilarious."

"It makes some people so uncomfortable, it's great!"

"And the gun one is cool."

Max lifted his shirt up to show a suicide bird shot tattoo on his ribs. "How about this one?"

" Ohhh that's fucking sick."

"And this one's sick too." Max stood up and turned around before pulling up his shirt most of the way to show off the tattoo covering his back: a black-and-white reaper holding a scythe and a vulture on its shoulder.

" Duuuude! Holy shit, that must'a taken ages! Is the vulture a Trench reference?"

"Got it done over six days, a little over thirty hours in all. And, yeah, it is."

"That's awesome. What was our first tattoo?"

Max held his right pointer finger up. "This one right here."

"Ohh sick! Scaled and Icy! Damn, finger tattoo off the bat. I'm awesome."

"Yeah, you are." Max smiled, definitely feeling something warm and emotional in his heart.

"Which one hurt the most? Are they worse or easier than cutting?"

"Here, hold on." Max lifted up his foot and worked to expose two drowning hands holding a book above the water on his ankle. "This one. And... it's different than cutting. With cutting you feel like you need to do it to chase away boredom or feel something... It's harder not to do it than to do it. With these, it's... it's exciting, you gotta make yourself hold still... but it feels good even when they're a little painful. Like a massage. And there's no shame around it."

"Huh. Cool. So you get to stab yourself a lot and no one gives you the fucking pity look."

"Nah, they give me the admiration look or a condescending look, and both are way better. It's fun scaring the bitches that judge me for it."

"Niceee. I love scaring judgy assholes."

"Exactly." Max didn't notice as Nerris stepped out onto the patio. "And I get to pull the best power moves over judgey Karens all the time."

"Hey," Nerris spoke up, leaning against the table they were sitting at. "You good out here?"

Teen made a face and pointedly looked away from xir pregnant belly. "Fuck, that's creepy."

"We're doing good. The kid Max went out the gate, though."

"Oh. Um- is he ok?"

"Probably not."

"...should we... check on him...?" Nerris asked.

"I've been running around more dangerous places than a fucking forest since I was 8," Teen scoffed. "He can handle himself."

"I was giving him some space," Max explained. "But... maybe go see if he's hungry or something, and go from there?"

Nerris nodded a little. "Yeah, that sounds good... I also, um- I tried doing a tarot reading, but it ain't really work without one of yours' energies..."

"You're still doing that, huh?" Teen asked.

"They'll quit their magic when Harrison quits his."

"Yeah, figures."

"So I just wanted one of you to shuffle the cards. Hopefully I'll get a better reading."

"Sure, fuck it. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Lemme have 'em." 

Teen held a hand out. Nerris handed the deck over and he shuffled it quickly, much like he would a deck of playing cards he didn't particularly care about, and handed it back. Nerris nodded a little and spread them out between them on the table. 

"Pick four?"

Hesitantly, Teen grabbed a random pick of four, all next to each other.

Nerris turned them over and winced, inhaling through elfs teeth as elf read them. "Oh boy. Ok- um- I know you ain't real into tarot, so I'll just try to go quick.

"Upright three of swords, usually signifies heartbreak or suffering, sometimes related to a relationship ending. Six of swords, reversed: originally basically meant "You not being very logical", emotional baggage, resisting change, etc. 

"Death card- for some reason you get the death card a lot, but it don't mean a literal death. It can also signify a big change or death of a plan. Max stopped getting it so much when he finally stopped actively planning suicide, so we figured out his was always the death of that plan. 

"And Seven of Swords is deception or trickery, which you did tend to get a lot, 'specially as a teenager, but I ain't sure how it'd apply here…"

"And how does that help at all?" Teen asked, already deciding that it didn't.

"Well..." Nerris started slowly, trying to think. "The... three of swords is interesting... It's saying you- not sure if you specifically or y'all as a group?- you gonna go through heartbreak during this, maybe due to a relationship ending... Six of swords, with the emotional baggage and resisting change- I'd say keep an eye on that and try to counter it? Especially considering you, don't push people off if they trying to help. The death card, meaning... something from this is gonna result in a really big change. And... something with seven of swords... Something is being deceptive? Or tricking us, whether intentional or not…"

"I didn't ask what it means, I asked how it helps."

"Well, I think the fact that something is being deceptive is good to know. We gotta figure out what. And... the fact that you got a lot of "big changes" cards…"

"That's no mystery. I'm in the future, that's a big fucking change."

Nerris sighed, ignoring him and fidgeting a little with the cards while xe thought about them. "...six of swords... Mm... Maybe that's meaning Neil can help, somehow? Think more logical or scientific…"

"...Maybe you could get more of an idea if you do a reading from both of them?" Max suggested.

"That could help."

"Good luck getting him to go along with it," Teen mumbled.

"Go see if you can," Max said.

"...where is he?"

"He went out the gate."

"And that's all the information we got?"

"Mm-hm."

Nerris sighed. "Alright, I'll... I'm gonna ask Harrison to go look for him, then."

"We can, if that's ok with the kid," Max offered, glancing over at Teen. He groaned, but stood up. 

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"Thank you. I really appreciate that."

"You'll have the best idea of where he ran off to," Max told Teen.

"What, and you won't?" Teen raised an eyebrow at older Max.

"It's been a long time since I was ten."

"Ugh, fine."

They went out the gate, but from the gate, Little Max was nowhere to be seen. 

"Uh... I guess probably check the forest first, or whatever?"

"Alright. I'm gonna go ahead and say calling for him probably won't work."

Teen shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pocket. "Probably."

Max rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's find him."

Chapter Text

It didn't take them very long to find Little Max, and when they did, they found him sitting with his back to an old log, holding his knees to his chest. If they really looked, they could see his eyes were red and his cheeks were wet.

Teen was the one to spot him and point him out, hesitating a little when he saw that he had probably been crying. "Hey, kid, um... Are you- are you good?"

"I'm fucking fine." Little quickly wiped his sleeves across his face. "What do you want?"

"Ok, chill the fuck out then. Jesus. Nerris wants to try another fucking tarot thing or whatever."

"Why should I care?"

Teen shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"Go away."

"Fine. Asshole."

Max shifted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He knew the kid could handle himself, and it wouldn't do any good to push him to come back… "Well, whenever you're ready to come back, you know where the house is."

"Yeah yeah, fine," Little grumbled.

Max and Teen made their way back to the house and sat back down at the patio table where Nerris was still waiting. By the time Max was done explaining what had happened, Little was quietly walking through the fence gate. The three of them all looked or glanced over.

Max waved a little. "Hey. You good now?"

Little stopped and frowned. "...Yeah, sure, whatever."

Max nodded in response.

"Um- are you alright with helping me do another tarot reading?" Nerris asked. "You don't gotta, it just might help figure out what's going on…"

"...A tarot reading?"

"Yeah. It's, um- it's my magick. ...am I Pagan yet, when you from?"

"You have magic? Fucking hell, Harrison alone is bad enough."

"Not like Harrison's magic. Pagan magick is more... spiritual and intuition and intent. It's a lot more subtle than what Harrison and 'Marie can do."

"So it's some stupid prayer shit?"

"Paganism is… technically a religion, yeah. But my magick is separate from my prayers. I actually rarely do prayers…"

"But it's not like real magic."

"It's real magic, but no, it ain't like Harrison's magic. There's lots of different forms of magic."

"We don't need more magic."

Nerris sighed. "Alright, then I can just work with the reading I did with... How do we call you guys apart? By ages? Do I call you teenage Max?"

"Wait one second. Kid me, all you have to do is grab a couple cards," Max explained. "If you do it, I'll let you have some of one of my beers."

"Not in my house you ain't."

Max thought for a second. "Ok, it won't be in your house."

"Fine. I know you were... y'know, like that, I just don't wanna encourage it. At your place is fine, that's your choice, but not here."

"If he's already doing it, then this isn't going to encourage it any more than it already is, and if he isn't... have you tasted beer?"

"Unfortunately." Nerris rolled xir eyes. "Just- at your home, alright? And I was serious, you don't gotta participate in the magick stuff if you don't wanna. You don't need to bribe him."

Little was already seriously considering it. "And if I go home before then?"

"I was just thinking about stepping off their property, but I could send it back to camp with you."

"Hey! I did it too, where's my beer?" Teen protested.

"I'll give you something better," Max told him, keeping it quiet enough that the kid couldn't hear. Teen raised an eyebrow curiously.

"...Fine," Little finally said. "Where's the stupid cards?"

Nerris sighed a little and passed the deck over to him after setting the four cards that Teen pulled back into it. "Shuffle 'em well, however feels right."

Little rolled his eyes but did so, less skilled than his teenage self, but still showing that he'd had experience shuffling cards. He struggled a little with their size, but soon finished and passed them back for Nerris to spread out. Elf told him to pick four, and he randomly grabbed a line of four.

Nerris flipped them over. "Alright, y'want the quick version or the detailed explanation?"

"Can I answer no?" He asked, glancing at his adult self.

"You don't have to listen. What's your detailed version?" Max asked.

Nerris turned more towards adult Max and Little headed inside. "Ok so- he got seven of swords again. That's the deception and trickery one, which means they're really trying to hammer in the fact that something or someone is being deceptive."

"And since it happened twice... it's probably a big deal?" Max guessed.

"Exactly. So we really gotta figure that one out to solve this." Xe pulled over the next one. "Ace of wands signifies something big happening that can lead towards a desired goal... So something he wants right now can happen now 'cause of this situation?"

"Probably escaping going back to our parents."

"Lucky bastard," Teen mumbled.

"Maybe... But would that mean he... stays here?"

Max realized how that escape would only be permanent if he didn't go back once Nerris pointed it out. "...Wait, wouldn't that fuck things up here in the future? Some sci-fi paradox shit?"

"I dunno... He's... already here, and you still here too, so... Maybe it's a sorta duel timelines situation? Taking him from the past created a sort of parallel timeline?"

"Fuck, shut up, my brain's hurting again." Teen rubbed at his forehead.

"I'd say go inside, but you're probably already fucked."

"We can move on to the next one for now, give you something easier to think about," Nerris suggested, and pushed the next card forward. "Death card reversed is sort of the opposite of teenage Max's death card, and I'm not sure if it's because it's actually reading for two different people, or if it's because the cards wanted us to see both... Reversed, the death card means you gotta persist your current situation without giving up, even if it's difficult... Which, considering where they both at... might mean "Don't kill yourself, just wait this out.""

"Great, something I can easily remember about my childhood," Max mumbled.

"Yeah, I know... But still, that's a really good piece of advice for these two specifically."

"Don't kill myself, got it," Teen responded sarcastically. "Never heard that one before."

"Or kid Max. So... keep an eye on him, maybe."

"Yeah, got that."

"And the last one..." Nerris's face softened a little as xe picked at the last card. "Ace of cups... Which in my readings... usually signifies that you finally safe, or you can relax, 'cause now you got a safety net of love and support…"

"...I guess that makes sense," Max agreed.

"...I think he... stays here..." Nerris said quietly, glancing towards where Little Max disappeared inside.

"...We... can't do that, right?"

"I... I don't know... But he got two cards that point towards it... Maybe teenage Max, too? He got the upright death card, and staying here would be a big change of plans... But why would they stay? Why wouldn't we send 'em home?"

"...Fuck, go tell the others about it. They'll think of things I can't," Max said, running a hand through his hair. Nerris nodded, pushing elfself to standing and heading inside to talk to Neil and Harrison.

Teen scowled, folding his arms. "I don't wanna stay here. I'm sure you're awesome or whatever, but I wanna go back to my friends, and Gwen and David, and my life."

"I understand that," Max said. "I'm hoping they're just misreading the cards right now."

"You're talking about it like it's real . It's just superstitious bullshit. Those don't actually mean anything."

"I've seen Nerris's magic be right a hell of a lot more often than not."

"Oh come on . You seriously believe this shit? They say it themself, it's a "religion." It's fake."

"I don't believe in the religion part. That still feels like utter bullshit, but the magic itself is different."

"How?" Teen deadpanned.

"It was around the time they summoned a ghost I finally couldn't deny it anymore."

"That's not magic. We've met a ghost and he was fucking lame."

"It's less the fact a ghost existed and more that it was summoned by Nerris."

Teen rolled his eyes. "Big deal. That doesn't make this shit real."

"There's more to it than that, but with Harrison's magic being real, it's not that big of a leap that Nerris's is real too."

"Whatever."

"You don't have to believe in it. Probably better that you don't, honestly."

"...ok?"

Chapter Text

Little Max sat in the bathroom for a while after he was done, not sure what to do now. He really didn't want to go back outside and listen to whatever magic nonsense Nerris was talking about, but he wasn't very into the idea of staying inside, either.

Eventually, he decided to sneak into the hallway just outside the living room and eavesdrop on what the adults inside were talking about. At some point, Nerris had come inside and was explaining the tarot reading to the other two. From what Little picked up, they thought he was supposed to stay here, for some reason.

Vaguely, he wondered if that counted as kidnapping… And then some kind of feeling he couldn't figure out wiggled around in his chest. He didn't need to put all that work into making friends at camp, because it didn't matter now. He wasn't going home… But he wasn't going to see his parents again.

Harrison thought for a second. "...Since it's clear something about this situation is being deceptive... should we try some divination?"

"Technically tarot is already divination, but I could try some more types."

"Well, yes, but I mean, like what we use for new kids."

"Scrying. And it's an option, but I was thinking more "playing 20 questions with my dowsing pendulum.""

"Playing 20 questions?" Neil raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't we be taking this seriously?"

"I am . It's just how I refer to that method of divination. Magick is a lot less specific than science."

"Even in science you have to figure out what gets you closer to the result you want," Harrison pointed out.

"Yeah! You just playing 20 questions with yourself."

Neil sighed. "Yeah, ok, whatever. 20 questions, sure."

"Just trust the magick, Neil," Nerris said teasingly.

"If you're not going to trust it, then at least go away so it doesn't interfere as much."

"Yeah, you got bad vibes," Nerris agreed.

" Begrudgingly , I trust your magick. It just seems a little childish to call it "playing 20 questions.""

"Bestie I'm autistic and ADHD. My life is gonna be chiagrees.

"Besides, that's pretty much what it is, though it doesn't have to be under 20."

"Alright, I get it."

"So! Harry, y'wanna grab my pendulum for me?"

"On it." Harrison got up to go grab it, but leaned down to give elfs forehead a gentle kiss on his way out.

Nerris grinned. "That's gay."

Little glanced around, confused. He had never pictured Nerris and Harrison to just be casually... homophobic? Was that some inside joke about still being affectionate after being together so long, or was it the fact that a guy was showing affection like that?

Harrison also grinned and returned to grabbing the pendulum.

"Thank youuu!" Nerris called after him.

"Speaking of gay- I guess- are all the Maxes still outside?"

"Well, our Max and teenage Max are, but I thought kid Max came inside?"

"I didn't see or hear him…"

"He's in here," Harrison called back as he passed by the hallway. Little shrunk further under the hallway table he was hiding beneath.

"Oh- did you see him?"

"Yeah, he's in the hallway right now."

"Fuck off," Little mumbled.

Nerris jumped a little, turning towards the source of the sound. "Oh! Hi little Max!" Little scowled and turned to move farther into the kitchen and away from the living room. Nerris waved a little. "You don't gotta hide if you wanna listen to what we talking about. It's about you two anyway, you got the right to be involved."

"I don't care about whatever your stupid magic says!" He lied.

"I didn't say you do. I said "if you wanna listen in." Which you clearly already doing."

Little rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen, finding another hiding spot to eavesdrop from. Nerris shrugged a bit and looked towards Harrison, holding a hand out.

"Pendulum, please?"

Harrison handed it over.

"Thank you, bunny." Nerris drew out a quick "Yes No Maybe" map on paper to hold the pendulum over. "Ok, um… where to start… Are we mistaken on something?"

After a few seconds, the pendulum started swinging between the two "Yes"s.

The rest of the questioning continued on like this- Nerris asking questions and the pendulum swinging a certain way. 

"Is someone tricking us on purpose?" "No."

"Is the situation misleading?" "Maybe."

"Are they from a different timeline?" "No."

"Are they from a different dimension?" "No."

"Are they from the past?" "Maybe."

"Are they physically from the past?" "No."

"We're they pulled out of the past?" "Maybe."

"Are they recreations of the past?" "Yes."

Harrison glanced to the kitchen. "...That's... not good…"

Neil sat back in shock. "...so, they're... They're not actually "from" the past?" He said quietly.

Little sat silently, trying to process. Wait… I'm fucking fake?

"That's why they both got seven of swords…"

"...I can't send them back," Harrison whispered, a little horrified.

"There's nowhere to really... send them back to..."

"...fuck." Neil ran a hand through his hair.

"I can't just undo it... That... I'd be practically killing them..."

"Mm-hm... Shit…"

"...we, um- we should probably tell our Max..." Nerris suggested.

"...Little Max is probably still listening," Neil mumbled, quietly enough so he couldn't hear.

"...I'll go check," Harrison responded just as quietly.

Little had heard enough, and stepped outside, feeling a little angry at not being able to control anything in this situation, but mostly numb at the things he had just learned. He wasn't the real Max.

The older two Maxes were still on the patio and looked over when Little stepped outside. The adult Max the real one waved a little. Little looked away from them, not really wanting to seem interested in them or like he was freaking out... but then he shrugged and went to sit with them.

"Hey."

"So did they figure out "the cards" or whatever?" Teen asked, obviously being sarcastic.

"Yeah. We're fake," Little deadpanned.

"Oh sure, figures." Teen rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't give a shit what "the cards" say, I'm not staying here. I had, like, plans and shit."

"Well, we're not going back. Harrison said his only choices are keep us trapped here or kill us," Little said, rolling his eyes.

"...are you serious?"

"Yeah, there's definitely more to that." Max raised an eyebrow. "Why can't he send you back?"

"Jesus Christ, try listening old man. We're fake. There's no back to be sent to."

"Hey, I'm fucking 34!"

"...You were serious about that?" Teen looked a little panicked.

"How the fuck are you fake? You're clearly, like, younger versions of me."

"Fuck fuck fuck." Teen grabbed his hair a little. "Shit, that other kid was right, we're copies or some shit."

"I don't fucking know. Whatever plans we had or shit we liked doesn't exist, because we didn't..." Little swallowed down a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He never had friends, or parents... Even if it felt real... He closed his eyes to fight back against the burning.

"...shit, hey-" Max wasn't sure what to do. He knew especially at that age, he hadn't been very receptive to comfort, especially from adults... But now it felt wrong to not do anything.

"I'm fine ," Little snapped.

Max frowned. It definitely felt like Little was hiding something, but at the moment, Teen was starting to lose it. 

"Hey, teen me, let's... We should probably talk to the others first before... saying that's definitely what's going on." He rubbed at his head. How the fuck was he supposed to stop an existential crisis with someone who really might have not existed until recently when he still needed help from Neil sometimes to feel real himself?

" Fuck, man! And if it is? I didn't fucking exist 20 minutes ago?! But it feels like I did? Everything felt real- shit- Fuck, my head hurts. I was real, I am-"

"You're real now, and that's what matters," Max carefully explained. "And... feelings are reality, in a way?" Should he call Nurf? That sounded like something Nurf would say.

"Oh that's such bullshit ." There was a hint of a whine to it.

"Look man, I'm usually the one having an existential crisis. Nurf has some way of explaining that that makes it not sound like bullshit, and I can't do what Neil does... Wait... Maybe I can... Um... we need to bring you into the moment."

"Why are you freaking out?" Little asked. "Isn't not existing better? You don't have to do anything, you can just die and be done with everything."

That almost got Teen to start crying. "No, man! I- f-fuck- I was ok . I was almost, like, good or some shit- I had Neil and Nikki and camp and Gwen and David- fuck! I was fucking fine and it wasn't fucking real?! "

"Hey, kid, I need you to shut up with the suicidal ideation right now. Teen me... It was real. Even if you're like, a clone of me, that's... That's where you came from, no matter what, got it? They are why I'm actually fine now. It was real ."

"It was fucking real for you! It happened to you! It didn't happen to me! I didn't exist 20 goddamn minutes ago!"

"Either way you came from me so that shit we experienced was real."

Teen grabbed at his head with both hands- the headache was just getting worse.

"Fuck, I need backup." Max pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Neil. He picked up pretty much immediately. 

"Hey- we were just about to come out and talk to you. Nerris... figured something out…"

"Kid me told. Teen me, severe existential crisis. Need backup now."

"Oh! Ok, I'm on my way. I'll tell everyone to stay inside so they don't... overwhelm the situation." Neil hung up and was outside within a minute.

Little folded his arms. This felt beyond stupid. Wasn't this supposed to be a good thing?

Max looked a little relieved once Neil appeared. "Hey. Uh- you're usually better at helping me when I'm... like this."

"Yeah, um... Hey, teenage Max... can you explain a little of... what's going on right now? Do you want me to try and logic you out of it or... just distract you?"

"Oh my god you're still so nerdy . Or- you are so nerdy- 'cause my you never actually existed-"

"He's freaking out over "he didn't exist 20 minutes ago"," Max summarized.

"Hey, he... might have existed. Or... We're not really sure... what happened, but if you are copied from Max's past, then I was your Neil."

"And now you're old and it's weird."

"We're only mid-30s!" Max protested.

"Well, yes, but... that doesn't make your memories fake. It just... means you... you've been taken out of your story, like a page ripped from a book."

"Except it's not the real book it's a copy of the book."

"And since when are the copies of the original manuscript not still the real book?" Max asked.

"The words are still real even if you put them in a copying machine, the author still the same."

It wasn't helping the headache, but it was helping the anxiety... somewhat. "Ok, so- fucking fine, I'm still the real book or whatever the fuck- But I can't go back to my part of the book."

"I... I know... and I'm... I don't think there's any way to make that hurt less…"

Teen's eyes started to water again and he tugged harder at his hair. "I-I can't- I can't fucking go back to my Neil and my friends and my life-"

"...Would you like a hug?" Neil offered.

"N-no. Fuck you," Teen snapped back, in that tone of voice that Neil knew as "Yes please, but I won't admit it." 

It still threw him off, having not heard that much- at least, not in a clearly joking tone from Max- but it had been a long while since he had dealt with a moody Max like this one. He went in for a hug, but slowly so as to give Teen the opportunity to escape if he really wanted to keep up appearances for some reason. Teen leaned into it- and it was so weird , because it felt so familiar but so different and he didn't know how to feel about it and his head hurt and he was crying worse now. He wanted his Neil. Neil hugged him the way he knew his Max liked, letting the teen cry it out because it was definitely a situation that called for it. 

Little looked between the two. "...What the fuck?"

" Fu-uck off! "

"Yeah, c'mon, they have a giant-ass yard for a reason. Let's go sit somewhere else." 

Max stood up to motion Little along. He looked between them before getting up and following Max. This was now feeling uncomfortably awkward.

Chapter Text

Max and Little moved to the other end of the yard, just on the edge of the trees. 

Max sighed, fidgeting with his piercings. "Fuck, I forgot how emotional I was."

"He's kind of a bitch," Little said.

"Yeah, well, we're an asshole. Ugh, and I don't miss being a teenager, either. Both puberties sucked ass, but at least the second one was the right one."

"...Puberty, huh?" Little... had never really thought about reaching that... Then again, he hadn't technically started thinking before half an hour ago.

"Yeah, uh- teenage years suck for everyone, but ours were... Well, shit, I can barely remember any of it, that's how bad it was. Dysphoria, hormones, abuse and depression, I was very stoned for most of it... No shit he's emotional."

"You can't remember it?"

"So not fun fact: childhood abuse, repressing your emotions, weed, and ADHD are all things that cause memory loss. I don't remember a solid damn thing before I was 20."

Little blinked. "...So your brain is fucking fried. That makes sense why you're like this."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Like what, exactly?"

"A pansy. Disillusioned by life."

Max rolled his eyes. "'Cause I don't wanna kill myself anymore?"

"Because you didn't do it yet. Because you're happy. Because you don't think realistically anymore."

"I still think realistically. And I'm happy 'cause I'm not in that fucking apartment anymore. And now the most rebellious thing I can do is live loudly."

Little rolled his eyes. "How is living rebellious? You have to be a member of fucking society, follow the laws so you don't get shot by cops, give your money to capitalists to survive, and work hard for capitalists to even get the money in the first place, and generally know your place."

"But I don't know my place. They hate me for existing because I'm queer and trans and brown and disabled. They hate me more 'cause I don't follow the laws and I piss off cops and I regularly attend protests. Yeah I ease up a little to give Neil and Frankie an easier time, but that's for them, not the fucking government. This society wants me dead, so it's punk to say fuck 'em and keep living."

"Who the fuck is Frankie?"

"She's... our kid."

Little's eyes widened in horror. "What. The. Fuck."

Max sighed, waving a bit. "Yeah yeah, get it out, I know it's not where we ever expected our life going. But we weren't pregnant."

Little blinked. "...Oh... Um, good? I guess? Who's bright idea was it to put us in charge of a fucking kid?"

"Neil's." Max rolled his eyes a bit. "He wanted a kid, I did some therapy about it, and it ended up happening."

"...You're raising a kid with Neil? What are you, gay or some shit?"

"... yeah . We're- holy shit, are you from before we started dating?"

Little's eyes widened again as he tried to process that. "...Why- He's- ...What?"

"Oh fuck. That was, like, fucking ages ago. Yeah, we're- we're bisexual, Neil's gay, and we've been together for like... a long time."

"...That's- ...What the fuck? We..." He shook his head, not liking the thoughts he was having. "I'm fucking bisexual?"

Max sat back, realizing he needed to slow down a bit. "Yeah, you're bisexual."

"...but... I'm supposed to be straight…"

"And since when do we do what we're supposed to?"

That caused Little to short circuit for a bit. "...fffuck... I... I'm bi…"

Max nodded a little. "Yeah. But that's not a bad thing. There's lots of bisexual men."

"...why Neil?"

"We were best friends, shared experiences, we both love causing shit, we both hate people..."

"...oh..." That... didn't sound bad. But why did it even matter now?

"Yeah. I don't... think I expected it to last very long... I'm assuming I thought I'd kill myself or we'd break up, but uh... nope. Married with a kid."

"...that sounds fucking lame," Little huffed. "Never cheated on him?"

"No."

"So you dated one person ever, married him and had a kid, and you still think you're fucking rebellious? Your romance isn't even worth a special on the hallmark channel, it's so unbearably sweet and boring."

"And what government or system is fucked over by me being an asshole and hurting Neil? He's the only person affected by that; that's not rebellion. That's being a dick." Max huffed. "Besides, I barely wanted to tell him I'm trans. If I cheated on him, I'd have to tell a fucking stranger, and that's a lot different than wearing pride patches."

"Pride patches are telling every stranger you pass that you're trans. Why the fuck would you do that?"

Max sat back a little, thinking that one through. "Telling a stranger, privately, that I'm trans gives them more of an opportunity to try and hurt me, especially if we're the only two in the room. Wearing pride shit in public is... less intimate, and it's more for other queer and trans people. Trans kids see it and know that it's possible for them to be trans adults. Other trans adults see it and know I'm not gonna call them slurs or misgender them. It's community, and the government fucking hates community. That's why they always try to separate people and make them fight. And I'm not following that bullshit."

"Sure, community," Little said, rolling his eyes.

"People can't riot or protest if they're too busy fighting each other to work together."

"That shit doesn't work most of the time anyway."

"And turning on each other works even less. Again, who would get fucked over by me cheating on Neil or me being quiet about being queer?"

"You're upholding the "sancity of marriage" with a long time partner, which is conforming to society's beliefs of one true love and shit like that, along with purity culture of only being with one person."

"But I'm married to a man, so they don't consider it to count for any of that. There's nuance to this stuff, kid. Society's one true love and purity culture would only count if this was a straight relationship. But it's not. They fucking hate us for being gay and happy."

"You're basically a straight couple at that point. You're fucking someone of the opposite sex in a happy pure relationship, completing your stupid nuclear family unit with a kid."

"Who the hell would look at us and think we're a straight couple? We're both men; even my birth certificate says I'm a man now. People know we're gay."

"...Your birth certificate?"

"Yep. Got my gender marker and name changed on it awhile ago."

Little looked down at his feet. That did sound nice- but he was never born... He didn't have a birth certificate. "Well, it's better to just not have one," he said quickly, not wanting to get into an existential crisis himself and get hooked on how he can't change that for himself.

Max shrugged a little. "Yeah, probably. But I'm working with what I got. Everything says I'm a man, people look at me and know I'm a man. And the government doesn't like queer people being happy, so us being happy is a big fuck them."

"...you still wear pride patches that tell everyone you're not."

"I am a man. I'm a trans man, and that doesn't make me any less of a man."

"Is that what people think when they find out?"

"That's what I know. Transphobes who think otherwise are dumbasses and they can go fuck themselves."

Little shifted uncomfortably. That... sounded rebellious in a way he wasn't and he didn't know how to handle that. Max noticed the change and say back again. 

"I feel a lot... safer being able to say and do that, now that I'm not in that household. That's kinda why I do it. I wanna make other kids like us feel a little safer."

"...Why does that matter? You made it without anyone like that."

"Barely. And just because I did doesn't mean everyone should have to."

"Why not? It doesn't help you at all."

"It's not about me."

"This isn't. It's for the kids who need it."

Little rolled his eyes. The fact that this adult version of him wasn't selfish felt so wrong.

Teenage Max didn't let go of Neil for a while, but after five minutes or so, he finally sat back and started drying his face. 

After giving him a second to recollect himself a little, Neil gently said, "We're here for you, ok? I know this is hard, but you're not dealing with this alone."

"...I'm fine. It's not like it matters." Teen seemed a little shut down. "I didn't exist, so I can just kill myself. It won't change anything."

"If I wouldn't let you do that back then, why would you think I'd let that happen now?" Neil asked.

"I'm not real . It doesn't matter."

"You're here now, using what oxygen is here, stepping on the grass. It doesn't matter that you weren't here yesterday. You're here now and now you have an effect on this reality. That's real enough."

"But my life wasn't real. It didn't happen. My Neil and Nikki and my David and Gwen and all my friends- none of them existed." Teen looked like he was about to cry again.

"Again, if you are a copy, then your friends and this Max's friends are one and the same. Yeah, there's a huge age gap and things will be a little different, but we are still here for you and if you think for one second any of us don't already care for you, copy or not, you're still underestimating our relationships with you."

"It's not the fucking same . What about my Neil? You're not my boyfriend, you're fucking old."

"I know, I'm not. And you have every reason and right to grieve what you feel you've lost. Even if we were your friends, all of us have changed over the years and are no longer the friends you knew. But we were real, and still are. And we're here for you while you grieve what you've lost."

"Fuck, you're so sappy," Teen mumbled.

"Yes, but... I can't imagine how horrific experiencing something like that would be, and you're going to need a lot to help you through this."

He rolled his eyes a bit. "Like what, a shrink?" He said sarcastically.

"Probably. Even my Max needed one eventually, and he hasn't gone through something as bad as this. But, I was talking more about a social net you can rely on."

"...I wasn't serious about that. He actually talked to a fucking therapist? Ugh, that's such pussy shit."

"It's better to go fix things than to keep driving a car that's breaking down."

"Fuck off. That's so lame. I'm not talking to a goddamn shrink."

"Just... consider it, and maybe talk to adult Max and Nurf before really deciding."

Teen groaned. "It would be so much easier to just kill myself."

"...You can die at any time. Could you at least give us a chance to see if there's something we can do to make you not want to die so much?"

Teen pouted. "You haven't changed a lot, huh."

"I may be older, but I'm still me."

"Ugh. Fuck, fine. I'll wait or whatever."

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

The three Maxes, Neil, and Frankie got home to Max and Neil's apartment a little after 8:00. Neil went to put Frankie to bed, and after a few minutes of meeting the pets (a medium-sized dog named Hellhound and a gray cat named Kipaw), Little spoke up with, "You said I could have a beer if I did Nerris's stupid cards thing."

"Mm, I did." Max nodded and grabbed a cup to pour out a measured amount- enough to get a little drunk, but not the whole bottle- and set it down at the table. "Alright, you got some ground rules."

"What is this?" Little asked, looking at the cup. He had been expecting a whole beer.

"Enough to get drunk, not enough to get wasted."

"You can't get wasted off one beer."

"You don't need a whole one. This is enough, for now. If you're staying with us, you're not getting neglected, so shit like this has rules now."

"Fuck off. I make my own rules."

"Yeah. You are making them. Just in the future."

Little grabbed the cup angrily. "Suck my dick."

"Uh-huh. Get one first," Max retorted. Teen let out a laugh. "But seriously, alcohol is gonna have some rules so you don't kill yourself or make yourself sick. 'Cause, unlike our parents, I actually care about what happens to you."

"Oh fuck off. You and the rest of you people. Harrison's kid fucked up and made a mess and now you're all too chicken shit to clean us up. At least if I kill myself someone's actually doing something about this."

"Cut that bullshit right now. We're not fucking killing you guys. Yeah this is a mess, but we're gonna handle it."

"This isn't handling it."

"Because it's 8:00 pm on a random fucking Saturday. We're gonna come up with a plan tomorrow."

"Don't have to if you just let us kill ourselves," Teen countered. 

" No ."

"Pussy."

"You're the ones wanting to take the lazy way out." Max didn't really believe that, but he knew he did a lot of thing out of spite. He wanted to get them spiteful.

Neil frowned a bit as he stepped back out from putting Frankie to bed.

Little sputtered a little. "Oh, fuck you. It's not- Fuck off."

"Fuck off!" Teen responded at the same time, face heating up a bit. "It's not lazy ."

"You don't wanna deal with it, so you just won't? That's lazy."

"If it's so lazy, why don't you kill yourself?" Little shot back.

"Because I don't want to anymore. I worked on it. Because I'm not lazy."

"Uugh, you sound like David," Teen complained.

"I've had his grating voice in my ears since I was fucking 10 years old, so yeah, that happened at some point."

"God, why didn't you kill yourself? That sounds horrible."

"...he's not bad enough to kill myself over," Teen mumbled a little. "...you're still talking to David?"

"Yeah, him and Gwen let me stay with them after I turned 18. They're family now."

Little gagged, almost spilling his beer. "You fucking didn't."

Teen sat back, shifting a little. That... sounded really nice... But it wouldn't happen to him now. Max watched him a bit, but responded to Little. 

"I did. He's unbearable sometimes, but it was better than staying in that household any longer."

"You could have just run away and not went to David. What the fuck?"

"Well, let's see. None of our friends had parents that would let us move in, the ones that did I didn't wanna live with, I couldn't afford to rent a place, and Neil was in a college dorm at the time. So I didn't have anywhere else to run away to."

"You could have gone homeless."

"I could'a. But I didn't have to, and I'm not stupid enough to choose that over just living with David and Gwen."

"Wait, and Gwen?"

"...yeah?"

"...They're living together?"

"He's from before they started dating, I think," Teen said.

"Oh no shit! Really? That was forever ago."

"...How the fuck are those two dating?"

"I said the same thing."

"No they're like, weirdly good together," Max insisted. "I don't know how it works, but it does."

"How are either of them the other's type?"

"How is Neil ours?"

"Hey." Neil frowned a little playfully, but he knew what Max meant.

"I still feel like we were supposed to end up with someone with boobs."

"I paid too much just to get rid of them."

"Oh fuck yeah." Teen perked up, looking happy about that.

"Ugh, not ours."

"Yeah well, we're bi," Teen said. "Guys are hot too."

Little shook his head and downed his beer. This stupid future reality wasn't worth dealing with.

"...so- he's getting drunk. Can I get high? Where's your stash?"

"Like I'm going to get anything from this much," Little grumbled.

"I'm not gonna tell you where it is, but I'll grab you some."

Teen groaned a little. "Fine." He was going to find it himself eventually anyway.

"Figure out where you're gonna keep your stash for now."

"I don't have my stash. It was in my tent. Or it never existed."

"I already said I'm giving you some, so figure out your spot to put it where Frankie won't get it."

"Ughhh," Teen groaned. "Ok, fine. Where can't she get to?"

"She knows not to get into too much in here... Hm... Maybe in the back of one of the top shelves in the kitchen cabinets, but make sure it's one of the more boring ones."

"Mm... I gotta get a new stash jar, I guess... Is there a Spencer's around here?"

"I've got some if you want to choose one."

"...are they cool ones?"

"Do you think I'd choose not cool ones?"

"...true. Can I see?"

Little watched carefully from the dining table as Neil left to use the bathroom and Max left to grab the jars. Once everyone was distracted or gone, Little snuck into the kitchen, stole another beer from the fridge, and tucked it into his hoodie before he stepped out onto the patio.

Max brought out a few of his unused stash jars, setting them out on the coffee table for Teen to pick through. He looked through them and ended up choosing a purple one that said "My fucking weed" on it. Max took all the jars back and brought the purple one back filled. Teen snatched it back and started working on packing his bowl.

"Ok, so. You get ground rules too," Max said, folding his arms. Teen groaned a little, but glanced up to show he was listening. "First of all, I'm not telling you where my stash is. I don't need you smoking it all and I don't get any. Whenever you're out, just let me know and I'll refill you."

"I don't need you rationing me."

"It's not rationing. It's making sure we both have plenty."

"Whatever you wanna call it," Teen mumbled.

"Second: absolutely no smoking inside. Frankie doesn't need a contact high, and she and Neil both have asthma. Weed lingering around in here would fuck them up."

"Yes, please keep smoking to outside on the patio," Neil insisted. 

"God, you guys are lame." That… did make sense, though. Neil had always refused to let Teen smoke in his room when he was visiting. "Fine, I'll go sit outside."

"Thank you," Neil called after him as he moved to sit on the patio.

Little froze and watched him closely as he sat down until he was sure the teenager wasn't going to tattle. He returned to sipping at the beer. Teen raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. It was quiet for a couple minutes, Teen thinking while he smoked, and then he sighed a little. 

"Fuck it. Hey kid, lemme have some and I won't tell him you stole another bottle."

"Fuck you, steal your own."

"Oh come on."

"...Why, what are you gonna give me in return?"

"...y'want a hit?" Teen held the bowl out.

"...Yeah, alright." Little offered the beer.

As he was passing it over, the patio door opened to Max standing there, and he reached over to grab it. "Yeah, nuh-uh. Gimme that."

"Shit!" Little went to take another swig, and managed to get a good bit more alcohol before Max pulled it out of his hand. 

"Asshole. You don't need a full beer."

Little glared at him. "Yes I do."

"This isn't an argument. You got enough. You can have more some other time."

"When the fuck did we get lame?" Teen complained.

"Neither of you have experienced a parent that's not neglectful. Most people wouldn't even give their kids a sip of alcohol. You got enough."

"Most kids don't have their entire fucking timeline stolen from them," Little snapped.

Max sighed, leaning against the doorway. "Yeah, I know, it's fucked up. But I'm still trying to be a little responsible here. We'll figure this thing out, I swear. But you don't need a full beer. You're little and you haven't even eaten anything since you got here. You've had enough."

"...If I eat something can I finish it?"

Max thought about that for a minute. "...at least half an actual meal, and some water."

"Why water?"

"Water gives you less of a hangover."

"...fine."

Max nodded and held the bottle up a little. "I'm holding onto this until after you eat. You can heat up some leftovers, whaddya want?"

"I don't know what you bastards have."

"Then come look, asshole."

Little huffed and followed him inside to check the fridge. He found something that looked like he could eat it quickly enough and grabbed it, not bothering to warm it up. Max poured out a cup of water and set it down with Little's food. 

"You can have the rest once that's done, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, Whatever." He sat down and poked at the food a little before starting on it.

Max stepped aside into the hallway with Neil, running a hand through his hair. "They're gonna be handfuls," he mumbled.

"It's to be expected. You were."

"Exactly. And there's two of 'em." Max watched Little a bit. "...it really takes "parenting your inner child" to another level."

Neil chuckled at that. "Well, Nurf encourages you healing your inner child, so…"

"Kinda my outer child, now."

"You're not wrong…"

Neil soon got to work bringing out pillows and blankets for the two younger Maxes to sleep with and pushing the living room chairs together to make a little bed. Teen stepped back in after a couple minutes, hands in his pockets. 

When Max saw him back inside, he nodded a little. "How is it?"

"This stuff's fucking amazing, man."

"Yeah, it's pretty nice. I had another one for you, too." He pulled another jar out of his pocket. "This one is actually medicinal for me. Helps with the insomnia, if you need it. Medicine cabinet in the bathroom."

"So he can have everything he wants, but I can't," Little spoke up from the table.

"This is just medicine. You can use it too, if you need to. And he can't have everything he wants, this stuff has rules too. There's only a little more leeway because weed isn't as dangerous as alcohol and he's almost 17."

"...I can?"

"Are you sure about that?" Neil asked. "I know it's helpful, but we still can't get caught letting young people use it here."

"It'll be fine." Max waved the concern off. "We'll figure stuff out soon, but for now, yeah you can use it too. It won't get you very high, but it'll help you sleep."

Little quietly ate, considering that. It wasn't as exciting as doing something against their permission, but it might have been worth trying.

"...uh- thanks, I guess," Teen finally said, nodding a little.

"Uh-huh. So if either of you need it, it's in the bathroom medicine cabinet." He left to put it away there.

Little kept eating while Max and Neil set up sleeping spots for them, and Teen sat back on the couch with the dog to try and find something to watch on TV. Eventually, he finished and called out, "Now where's my beer?"

Max grabbed it from the fridge and set it on the table. "And that's it for the night, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

"God, you really are responsible. It's fucking lame," Teen said, finally landing on a channel.

"I'll find some way to break him," Little said, sitting in one of the armchairs.

"Good luck. I'm still stubborn as hell."

"So are we." Teen sat forward, looking a little smug. "And it's two against one."

"You're soft," Little added. "You'll break."

"Technically, soft things are often harder to break," Neil corrected. "If you're stiff and brittle, just the wrong pressure from the wrong direction can easily snap you. Being soft and flexible makes it harder to break."

"Neil, we know you're lame, you don't have to prove it."

"Babe, I love you, but that was such nerd shit."

"It's basic physics. If it's something the average person learns in high school, it shouldn't be considered nerd shit."

"No actually, you're right. It's autism shit. Bringing up literal physics against a non-literal phrase." Max grinned a little.

"It still works with the non-literal phrase."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, you're softer now, but that's because you've healed a lot, have better coping mechanisms, and just are generally healthier mentally, which makes you more capable of handling stress in more sustainable ways."

Little looked between everyone in confusion. Autistic? Isn't that when someone's retarded?

Max held a hand over his mouth, looking a little thoughtful and surprised. "...ok, shit, I guess so."

"Ugh, whatever. We're still gonna break you. We always do. We broke David, kinda."

"...How the fuck is Neil autistic?" Little asked.

Teen gave him an odd look. "How the fuck isn't he?"

"He was... born autistic?" Max answered.

"...But he's smart?"

"Oh fuck he's still ableist."

"Cringe," Teen said.

"Shit, um... So, autism itself isn't an intellectual disability, but autistic people can have intellectual disabilities," Neil explained.

"...What?"

"Autism doesn't make people stupid," Max tried to simplify, without implying "Intellectual disabilities do make you stupid."

"Er... basically, but stupid isn't exactly a good word to use," Neil pointed out.

"He's me as a 10-year-old, Neil. It's the best we got right now."

"I know, I just wanted to make it clear that normally we wouldn't say it like that."

"Something something, Neil is so smart "because" he's autistic, 'cause it makes him think about science all the time, and it's why he does his stupid little arm thing, and why he talks so much about something sometimes," Teen said, looking a little lovestruck as he talked. He was... thinking about his own Neil…

"But... that's just Neil?"

"Right," Max confirmed. "Neil is autistic."

"...So... that's just because he's... autistic..." Little shifted awkwardly. Did that mean those things were bad? If that wasn't just Neil being Neil, then what was Neil? If he wasn't stupid because of it, why name it at all?

"Pretty much, yeah."

After a minute or so of awkward silence, Teen spoke up a little. "So... are there any snacks I can get at?"

"Yeah, help yourself to any food in the kitchen. You don't gotta ask; neither of you do."

Teen blinked a little, scratching at Hellhound's ear absently. "Oh... ok. Cool." He had never actually had someone say he didn't need to ask for any food…

"Oh, yeah, and if there's anything you want that we don't have, let us know," Neil added.

"...ok..." That... almost felt like a trap, somehow.

"The only rule is- just don't eat any of Neil's edibles without asking. 'Cause those are his."

"...Where are those?" LIttle asked.

"Nice try. I'm not telling you, but if you do happen to find them, just ask."

"Yes, please do," Neil insisted. "I'd rather you not have them, because you're so young, but they're expensive, and we'd rather know you're going to have one anyway."

"Flower Scouts still charging out the ass for their cookies?" Teen asked.

"Mm-hm, but they taste really good, and I've never been able to find other edibles I can't taste the weed in…"

"Flower Scout cookies?" Little asked.

"They started making edibles like, two years ago," Teen said.

"For you," Neil sort of corrected.

"...yeah. The two years ago that didn't exist," Teen mumbled.

"They existed, they were just closer to 20 years ago."

"For you ."

"Ok, we don't have to get started on this again right now," Max interrupted. "Just help yourself to snacks and food, alright?"

"And any lotion or other care products you can find in the bathrooms."

"Yeah, pretty much anything you need."

"Mm-hm, got it." 

Teen stood up to go dig through the snacks in the cabinet. Little took the moment to quickly go take up a spot by Hellhound. She rolled over against his side to ask for pets, which he eagerly provided.

Chapter Text

Little Max woke up the next morning to the sound of the dog leash jingling and the front door opening as Neil took Hellhound out to use the bathroom. He laid still until the door shut, and soon after Neil left, he got up. He looked around, recatching up with his circumstances. After a few minutes, he left the makeshift bed. Alone, his mind was traveling to a dark place as he did some light snooping.

He wasn't paying all that much attention to the decorations around the apartment- sciencey stuff and death/horror stuff, a bookshelf, pet toys, toddler toys, family photos, etc- and after a few minutes, he headed into the kitchen. He was looking for something specific now.

He quickly found the knives kept up high and headed into the bathroom. He hadn't done anything like this befo- well, from his own copied memories…

Neil came back up to the apartment with Hellhound, glancing around a bit when he noticed Little missing. He frowned, checking around the kitchen/living room/patio for him first. Eventually he found the bathroom door closed with the light on, and realized he must have just been using the bathroom. 

He went to feed Hellhound and Kipaw, drank some more of his coffee, and got started on prepping breakfast when he realized... Little had been in there for a while…

He went to knock, anxiously folding his arms. "Max? Are you in there?"

Little had been staring at it. It was his first time doing something like this, and watching the blood drip into the sink transfixed him, until Neil was outside the door. Shit! "Uh, y-yes?"

"Oh- alright. Um- are you alright? You've been in there awhile, I think…"

"I-I'm fine!"

"...ok..." Neil still wasn't sure, but Max did like to hide sometimes... Hopefully he was just hiding... "Well, um... I'm making breakfast, if you'd like any…"

Little turned on the sink to rinse his wrist off and clean things up, but the bleeding hadn't stopped yet.

Hearing the water running scared Neil a little, his mind quickly going to those old but familiar worries, but he didn't say anything yet.

Little took a breath, trying to calm down and figure out how not to get caught. He grabbed some toilet paper and held it against the cut to try and get the bleeding to stop, and quickly looked around to make sure nothing had dripped where Neil might see it. Once satisfied, he carefully pulled the toilet paper off, just to find it was still going. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath.

Neil hovered for a minute by the bathroom door, not sure what to do... before he finally decided to at least go back to cooking breakfast. If anything had happened... hopefully he could handle it when Little came out.

Little managed to get it to stop bleeding soon, and in his eagerness to clean up really quickly and get out before things were too awkward, he bumped the toothbrush holder on the counter, causing it to fall and break.

Neil jumped a little and hurried back to the bathroom door, past Teen, who had jumped awake at the crash. "Max? Are you ok?" Little felt panic rising. What was going to happen when they found out he broke something? He took a step back from the door, voice caught in his throat. "...I-I heard something break- and that's ok, I'm not mad, I just want to make sure you're not hurt."

That's ok? It's not... Is it? Little swallowed. "I-I'm fine... It's fine…"

"Ok, that's good... Is it- is it alright if I come in?"

"No! Uh... I-I'm- It's fine."

"Ok, if you're sure... Just let me know if you need anything, ok?"

Little stared in disbelief for a moment before responding, "Yeah, ok…"

Neil hesitantly went back to the kitchen, seeing that Teen was now also awake, rolling over and rubbing at his face to wake up.

Little started to pick up the broken pieces and throw them away. He rinsed off the toothbrushes and set them on the counter. Then he rinsed off the knife before stashing it under the sink until he had an opportunity to get it into the kitchen unnoticed. He looked at his forming scabs before pulling his sleeve down and finally leaving the bathroom.

When he appeared, Neil almost involuntarily glanced towards his wrists, but he quickly looked back to the food he was cooking. "Hello. Um- breakfast is almost ready. Help yourself to coffee, mugs are in the cabinet above the coffee maker."

Little swallowed and quickly stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket, trying to tell himself that he was just being paranoid. He nodded to show he heard and went to get some coffee. After another minute or so, Teen got up and made almost a beeline for the kitchen and coffee, only hesitating a little once he reached the pot. 

"...it's your house, so I don't... have to start the coffee to have any, right?"

"You can have coffee whenever you'd like. It's an automatic coffee pot, so it starts itself in the morning."

"Oh... cool."

"Really?" Little asked, a bit amazed at the idea.

"Mm-hm. It's on a timer, so we fill and set it every night before bed, and it's already done by the time I wake up. It also keeps itself warm, so it's still hot by the time Max wakes up."

Once Little had his coffee, he hesitantly went to drink in the living room. Teen sat at the table to drink his. 

It was a few quiet minutes before Neil spoke up again. "Um- since you're both awake, I suppose I can ask you- how would you like your breakfast?"

Little looked towards the kitchen, confused. Why is he asking?

Teen was a bit less hesitant to give his order. "I'm guessing you have spices?"

"Max has a whole cabinet for them, feel free to take a look."

Little didn't answer. He only went back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee once he finished his first. When Teen finished his, he stepped out onto the patio to smoke.

Once Neil was done cooking, he set out all the plates on the table, told Little and Teen which plates were theirs, and went to wake Max and Frankie up. Teen poked at his food a little, but did start to eat it. Once he started eating, Little did, too, anxiously pulling his sleeve down every few seconds. Teen raised an eyebrow, recognizing the behavior, but he didn't say anything.

After a couple minutes or so, Frankie ran out to the dining room, slowly followed by Neil. "Hi hi!" She waved at them and pulled herself into her chair.

Little huffed, put off by the high energy, but didn't say anything, instead poking at his food a little as the irritation passed. Teen mostly just ignored her as she started to ramble. Neil sat down to eat, and another minute later, Max was wandering out and grabbing his coffee before sitting down. Once everyone was sitting and eating, Little really focused on finishing eating, still occasionally pulling at his sleeve, just trying to get out of being stuck around everyone where he was more likely to get caught.

Teen and Max both recognized the behavior, but they didn't say anything. After breakfast, Max quietly mentioned it to Neil, while Teen snuck off to find something for himself. He decided to check Max and Neil's bathroom, quickly grabbing a razor and trying to sneak back out. Unfortunately, Max caught him in the doorway, and he glanced at Teen's hands as he stepped out, almost instinctively. Teen froze in the doorway, quickly stuffing the razor in his pocket.

Max sighed. "What do you have?"

"Nothing. Fuck off."

"I'm not stupid. I know you hid something and I'm sure I have a tattoo that's related to what you want to do with whatever you just hid." 

Teen scowled. "Then just let me have it."

"...I'll let you keep it under some conditions."

He groaned. "What?"

"You listen to my advice and try at least three things before cutting, and if you do cut, use rubbing alcohol to clean it and for the pain of it to get the most out of every cut you do."

"Fine." It wasn't really honest. "What three things?"

"It can be any of the things I tell you, just try three of them," Max began. "One thing is petting or playing with Hellhound or Kipaw, for at least two minutes. Another is writing. Grab a pen, write something; doesn't have to be your feelings, could just be something fucked up or killing some rich bastard. If you feel the urge to scribble or draw something, do it. You can write on yourself, line your wrists with ink, draw something cool, whatever. If none of those are working, grab some ice from the fridge and press it into your wrists or grab a rubber band and put it on your wrist. Pull it back and snap it against your wrist."

Teen was... only half listening. "Ok, fine, whatever. Can I go now?"

"Not yet. Tell me three of those you're thinking of trying first."

"Fuck, I dunno. It's not like I have my laptop to write with. Everything else sounds boring."

"I can give you one."

" Fine. "

Max showed him where he kept his laptop at the desk in the living room and let him know the password. Teen rolled his eyes a little, recognizing the password (KungPowPenis420).

"So we haven't changed passwords since we were twelve?"

"I have more passwords, but I'm still using the old ones too."

Teen sat at the desk and… "tried" to write for a while. He bounced between fucking around on the laptop, poking Neil's desktop plasma ball, and looking through his Max's Google Docs, but writing just wasn't very appealing at the moment. He didn't have any of his own WIPs, and the ones he did recognize were either finished or had much more content than he remembered writing. It was just another uncomfortable reminder that he wasn't when he was supposed to be.

Meanwhile, behind him in the living room, Little was still laying in his makeshift bed when Max and Neil approached. 

Max leaned on one of the chairs a little. "Hey, kid. We wanted to talk to you real quick, ok?"

"I'm trying to nap."

"Yeah, you can after. But this is important."

He sighed, frustrated, but sat up, making sure his sleeve was pulled down.

Max kneeled down a little, trying to be on an equal level. "You're not in trouble or anything, ok? But can we see your arm, please?"

Little's blood ran cold. "No, what the fuck? Why the hell do you want to see my arm?"

"Because you're not as subtle as you think you are, and we'd just rather clean it up and get some bandages on it."

"It's ok. We understand this is a tough time and this is a coping mechanism you're drawn to," Neil stated.

Little shifted uncomfortably. "...Fuck off. It's fine…"

"Which is exactly why you're not in trouble or anything. We're not even gonna tell you to stop right now. You just gotta let us take care of it when it happens, ok?"

"...What's the point in that?"

"Well- the sanitizing alcohol hurts even more, so it's like a second round of self-harm. But it also just makes sure you don't get an infection or something."

"Oh no, maybe I'll die," Little deadpanned.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Believe me, I get it." Max showed off his own wrist a little. "Which is why I need you to trust that I know what the hell I'm doing."

"You should have just had Harrison undo us or whatever."

"We're not killing you."

"You should."

"No, we shouldn't. You're here now, and we're gonna figure this out."

"You can't force me to let you take care of it."

"True."

Neil thought for a second. "I know you want to die, but catching an infection will only lead to us sending you to the emergency room, and once they find out you're suicidal, they'll put you under emergency surveillance to make sure you can't, so this can only make it more difficult for you to accomplish that."

Max caught on. "Yeah, at some point, there's only so much we can do to keep you out of grippy sock vacation. And I know you don't want that."

Little considered that for a second before grumbling about how it probably wouldn't have gotten infected anyway, but he held his hand out nonetheless. The cuts looked worse than what they'd seen before. Instead of thin with a smaller scab, the scab was larger, the skin more swollen and angrier than usual, the cut a little rough even though it was straight.

Max easily recognized it as having used a knife, but seeing it so close and fresh on a kid so little, even if it was himself... It triggered him, and he stepped back a bit, closing his eyes and taking a couple sharp breaths. His hands were shaking a bit. 

"F-fuck. Um- Neil? Can you-?"

"Yeah, I have this. Go, um... get something to drink, ok?"

"Y-yeah. Thanks." He went to grab something.

Neil quickly grabbed the first aid kit and sat to start working on cleaning up the cuts, staying a little quiet. He was making sure to keep his face blank and neutral- he knew Max hated the "pity look." Little didn't talk during it either, just tensely watched Neil reopen it to disinfect it and wrap it up the right way. Once Neil was done taking care of it, he pulled Little's sleeve back down over it. His hands were just barely shaking. 

"Thank you. For letting me take care of it."

Little rolled his eyes and went to go back to napping, somehow. Neil looked up to see that Teen had disappeared during the situation, and he sighed, worrying that he knew exactly why.

It took a while, but once Max left to practice some drumming and Little had fallen asleep and Neil was alone in the living room, Teen approached with his hands in his pocket and mumbled, "D'you still... want me to tell you when I cut, so you can... clean it up or whatever?"

"Yes, yes I do," Neil said, definitely dreading the reveal that he had cut too.

Teen glanced around a little and held out his arm. "Just don't tell... me, or whatever... He's being a pussy about it. He wanted me to do all this other shit first."

"Like using ice instead?"

"Something like that. I didn't pay attention."

Neil sighed and started leading Teen to the first aid kit. "I'd appreciate it if you would try a few of the things he's telling you. He used to do this too, and he knows what he's talking about."

He groaned a little. "Well, at least you've always been a pussy about it. I'm fine ."

"I know you're not. And it's ok to not be fine."

"Fuck off. I'm fine."

"People who are fine don't self-harm."

Teen glared at him. "It's not a big deal."

"When did I say it is?"

"You're acting like it is."

"Well, for one, I don't like it when you're dishonest with me."

"I told you, didn't I?"

"I meant about you being fine."

Teen groaned again. "Oh my god. Whatever. Can you just do whatever the fuck you wanna do so I can go?"

"I am."

"Well hurry up."

"I'm almost done. And... there. Now-" Neil lifted his wrist up to give the bandage a little kiss, "-to make things better, even though the physical benefits aren't really going to make it through the bandage and it's mostly an emotional and placebo sort of thing."

Teen turned visibly red, snatching his arm back from Neil, and if he started crying a little- fuck you, no he wasn't. "What the fuck? Jesus. You're done, just leave me alone. That's f-fucking weird."

"Oh, sorry, I do that for Frankie…"

"I'm not your fucking kid." You're supposed to be my boyfriend, not a dad . "Just fuck off and leave me alone." He got up to leave, wiping at his face a bit with his sleeves.

"Yes, I'm sorry. That was out of line."

Chapter Text

Teen attempted to avoid or hide from Neil for the rest of the morning. Neil, in turn, gave him as much space as he seemed to need. 

Little was trying to depression nap in his makeshift bed, but Frankie was being too loud, and eventually he gave up, sitting up with a loud groan.

"I know, they're fucking annoying," Teen complained from the couch.

"You can say that again," Little agreed, folding his arms.

"...you wanna get outta here and fuck around around the city?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever to get out of here."

They got ready to go, with Teen changing into his binder, and as they were trying to sneak out while the adults were distracted with Frankie, Neil spotted them.

"Hey, where are you two going?"

Little froze for a second, debating on if he could successfully make a run for it or not. Teen was a little slower on reacting, and just groaned a bit. "I dunno. Somewhere? Anywhere but here?"

"...We do need to go get more stuff for you two... Give us ten more minutes and we can all go out together," Neil said.

"No, fuck off." Teen scowled. "That ruins the whole point."

"I know you two like running around unsupervised, but right now I don't feel comfortable letting you two do that," Neil explained. "Not only are we worried about your safety, but we also need to figure out what we need to do to get you fit into this time, which means forging documents, coming up with backstories, and probably more."

"And the whole point of us going now was to get away from you two."

"You get forced into existence one day and then you can't ever get some time alone," Little grumbled.

"We just want to make sure you stay safe-"

"No, go ahead," Max cut Neil off, waving a little. "If you don't wanna be around us, fuck it, you don't have to be. Take Hellhound to the dog park, she needs exercise."

Little blinked. "Take Hellhound-?" He glanced around for her, the excitement of doing something new with the dog filling him.

"...wait, seriously?" Teen looked surprised and a little excited about it, too. Said dog had already perked up at hearing "dog park" and was jumping around the doorway.

"Yeah. Her leash is hanging right there by the door, you can take Frankie's emergency phone for Google maps."

"O-ok... Yeah, we can... take Hellhound." Little was trying so hard to hide his excitement.

Teen was trying a little less hard, and quickly grabbed the leash to clip it onto her collar. Max grabbed the emergency phone and handed it to him after putting the dog park address into Google maps.

"There's a tracker, but we can turn it off if you want."

"Uh- fuck yeah, I'm doing that. Why the hell are you tracking your kid?" 

"Because she's five years old and wouldn't be able to communicate to us otherwise if we leave her with someone and she ends up somewhere she's not supposed to be." Neil folded his arms. The emergency phone with a tracking app had been non-negotiable if she was going to be watched by other people.

"You're still just as fucked up with raising a real kid as with taking care of an egg," Little said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm worse, because an egg isn't a human being," Neil deadpanned a little. "Eggs can't develop trauma or move by themselves."

"Yeah yeah, we get it." Teen waved him off, checking to make sure the tracker on the phone was turned off. "C’mon, let's go." Hellhound was already trying to get out the door.

"And you still smothered that egg to death," Little deadpanned back at Neil. "I'm coming," Little called as he turned and followed Teen out.

Teen led the way to the dog park- or, mostly, Hellhound did. Teen followed the map, but Hellhound knew the way. Little didn't say much, except for a few comments about the dog or how cute she was.

It wasn't a long walk; the dog park was just a little fenced-in park in the middle of the city. They entered and closed the fence behind them before Teen unclipped Hellhound's leash and she ran off to play. Somehow, just walking there had already put him in a slightly better mood. Maybe David had been onto something when he kept saying going on walks helped…

Teen and Little sat down on one of the provided benches, watching Hellhound run around and play with the other dogs.

"...y'know they just made us take her so we wouldn't kill ourselves?" Teen said after a minute.

"What?" Max said, looking up at him.

"You didn't figure that out? That's why he made us take her. We can't kill ourselves, 'cause we have to keep her safe. It was smart."

"Fuck, you're right. And we have to bring her back."

"Mmm-hm. Smartass. Fuck, he really did turn into David."

"Jesus Christ, how did he get so lame?"

"Hell if I know. Probably David. And Neil's been trying-" Teen went a little quiet, sitting back and folding his arms. His Neil hadn't been doing anything. His Neil had never existed. "...Neil probably made him go to therapy."

"He's turned into a huge fucking pussy."

Teen scoffed a little. "Exactly. He's all soft and shit." He was... a little jealous. Both that Max didn't want to kill himself anymore, and that he was... allowed to be soft. It must have been nice.

"It's like he's not even really, well... Max anymore."

"...I dunno. He's still Max, just like... an evolved Max, or something. I can definitely see myself getting those tattoos. And our gauges got fucking huge." He fidgeted with his own gauge a bit.

"He has cool tattoos, but... Anyone could get some cool tattoos."

"Nah, most people don't get tatted that much. And a lot of them are ones I've thought about getting." He rubbed the side of his finger where the SAI tattoo would be. "I was... already thinking about using my fake to get that Twenty Øne Pilots tattoo soon."

"So? It's still just tattoos," Little said. 

Teen shrugged a little. "Tattoos that Max would get." He huffed a little. "Doesn't make him much less lame, though."

Little rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd think he's a little like us. You're wearing a stupid pride hoodie."

Teen blinked, a little confused. "What? No I'm-" He looked at his hoodie. "Oh! This? This isn't trans pride. I'm stealth." He turned to show off the back. "This is Twenty Øne Pilots merch. Their newest album used a lot of blues and pinks and yellows." He sat back again, hesitating. "That... was a small factor in me getting it. But it's not pride."

"It's still too close, it might as well be."

"Listen, cis people are fucking stupid. The only person who's ever clocked it as like the trans flag was another trans person. Cishets don't fucking understand pride flags. Most of them see the band on the back and don't give a shit."

"You shouldn't be fucking with the risk one does notice at all."

"It's band merch. Worst case, you act stupid about what else it could be and then they're the weird ones for thinking it's trans."

"That's so stupid."

"Fuck off. It's a good hoodie."

Little folded his arms. "Sure it is."

Teen folded his arms back. "Excuse me for liking good music. And it's not like this is- was- my only band hoodie."

"I don't care if you have others."

"Well I fucking don't anymore. Or never did." He scowled.

"At least we don't have parents."

"Fuck yeah. Shit , we really never have to see them again."

"...Yeah... Unless we bump into their stupid future selves."

"Maybe they died by now. That would be awesome."

Little laughed. "That would be the best."

"Oh totally."

After a while of sitting, and after Teen left to smoke some more, they finally walked back to the apartment, and this time they agreed when Max and Neil suggested going out shopping. They quickly made up a general list of things (pillows and blankets, new phones, clothes, soaps, some extra food, and so on) and headed out.

The first stop was Target, where Teen and Little both spent at least an hour trying on clothes. They both got plenty of jeans and t-shirts and hoodies, as well as each a package of boxers. Little almost couldn't believe he was getting boy's underwear; he'd never had any before. Teen complained about having to get sports bras, but Max said he wouldn't let him wear his binder constantly, and sports bras were the next best flattening thing.

After they finished clothes shopping, as they walked to the soaps section, they passed makeup and Teen stopped and thought for a minute. "...Can I grab some eyeliner and eyeshadow?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Little glanced at him. "Seriously?"

"It's punk."

"What's punk about some froofy makeup?"

"It's not froofy. Preston's shit is fruity. I just do black eyeliner and eyeshadow. It looks cool."

"There's makeup techniques to make yourself look more masculine, too," Max added. "I started doing that when I was like, 18 or something. Before testosterone."

"...I've heard about that…"

"...Really?"

"Mm-hm. I'm a little out of practice, but I could probably teach you guys."

Little considered that for a moment.

"It might not be helpful until you're a little older," Neil softly pointed out to him.

"Yeah, kids don't really look like genders yet," Max said.

"I'd like it, though. People always think I'm a lesbian." Teen scowled and rolled his eyes.

"Ok... so make up isn't just for girls, got it…"

"If Preston can wear a full face every day and still be called a boy, fuck it, I can wear some goddamn eyeliner."

"He does that every day?" Little asked, clearly judging.

"Preston's a whole faggot, yeah he wears makeup every day," Max said. That made Little a little happy to hear; at least he wasn't so lame that he didn't say fag anymore.

" Max, don't say that in public," Neil sighed in exasperation.

"Yeah Papa, you're not supposed to say that," Frankie said.

" You're not supposed to, kid, because you're not gay," Max corrected. "I've been called faggot because I'm gay, so I'm allowed to say it."

"She might be gay," Little said.

"She might be, yeah."

"But she's five," Neil interrupted sternly. "She doesn't need to be using slurs."

Little rolled his eyes. "Why wait?"

"Reclaiming slurs is a sensitive subject, one that you need to be a little older to really understand. She doesn't need to be using slurs at five years old."

"'Cause they're words that really hurt people," Frankie said.

"Exactly. There's slurs she does have the identities to reclaim, but she doesn't need to at this age."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Little said, bored of their "overly" PC stuff.

Teen ran off to grab the makeup, and he came back looking surprised. "There's advertisements of guys wearing makeup now?"

"Oh yeah, they started doing that a couple years back," Max said.

"Well, it's newer here. It's been around in other companies for a while now, though," Neil added on.

"Yeah, I meant Target just added those ads."

After Target they stopped by a local thrift store, where they ended up with quite a few good finds. Little found a few cool hoodies and t-shirts; one of the hoodies was a DIY bleached skeleton, and there was a t-shirt his size with a bunch of horror movie bad guys on it. He also found a lunch box with skulls and bones on it. Teen only found one shirt he liked, but it was an old faded My Chemical Romance tee, so he was happy with it.

The last stop (before groceries) was the mall. They wandered through a couple different stores, but the main stops were Hot Topic and Spencer's for clothes and decorations that Teen and Little would like. They had just finished with Hot Topic and were finally walking into the Spencer's. 

"We still have enough, so feel free to ask for things," Neil told them. "We might not be able to buy everything, but at least let us know what you would like at some point."

"Yeah, we can keep a list or something," Max agreed. "And we can use my employee discount."

An alternative young adult putting something back noticed them and gave a wave. "Hey, boss."

"Hey, shut the fuck up," Max replied, without any serious tone or warning.

"Yes, boss," he responded, also not sounding serious.

"Boss?" Little asked.

"They call me that 'cause I'm the manager and they know I hate it." Max rolled his eyes.

"You work here? "

"This is like, a teenager job." Teen gave him a look. "Why are you working here?"

"It just fit what we wanted to do with our lives."

"...That's actually kinda cool…"

"Seriously?" Teen raised an eyebrow. "This is barely a real job."

"Well, it's easier to focus on writing with a job like this."

"...oh." Ok, that... He liked that…

"It's better than just being some lowlife stuck working at McDonalds. This place is actually cool."

"Hell yeah it is."

"Figures I'd end up here. I've bought out half their store."

"So, who are the... new kids?" The employee asked after putting some things away.

Max hesitated a little. "They're... family. It's a whole situation. I'll explain later."

"O...k? I'll hold you to that."

"Mm-hm. But we're just here shopping today." He waved the two younger Maxes off. "Go find stuff you want."

"Already doing that," Little said.

They looked around the shirts together first and each grabbed a couple before splitting up to look around the store separately. Teen checked out the stash jars, wanting to get a new one that his older self didn't have. 

Little ended up grabbing one shirt that was too big for him, but he liked it too much anyway and they had already bought him one "future future" shirt. He poked around the jewelry a bit, but that was too feminine, so he ended up looking around "in the back," mostly to see if anyone would stop him. After it was clear people had noticed and didn't care, he rolled his eyes and started looking around elsewhere. His eyes landed on a skeletal lava lamp with "blood" red lava. Unfortunately, Teen spotted it at the same time and they both reached to grab it. Once Little noticed the other hand, he froze and sent a glare to the owner of said hand.

Teen paused too, realizing who else was reaching for it, and scoffed, folding his arms. "Whatever. Lava lamps are kid shit anyway."

Little rolled his eyes. "Sure. That's why you were trying to grab it."

"I was just looking . That doesn't mean I wanted it."

"I didn't realize you looked with your hands."

"You pick things up to look closer at them, smartass."

"What's the point in looking closer at 'kid shit' ?" Little mocked. 

Teen flipped him off and walked away to look at the jewelry. Little rolled his eyes and started looking for Max, since Neil had taken Frankie to walk around the surrounding mall outlets. He found Max talking to his coworkers and stood nearby, not comfortable with interrupting someone that looked like his dad Max yet.

Max noticed him after a minute. "Hey, what's up? Whatcha got?"

"Um... A lava lamp…"

"Oh, cool. Set it up here, we'll hold it with your shirt."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we should have enough for it. I'll have Neil check when he gets back. If we don't, which one do you want more?"

Little looked between them. He had gotten a lot of shirts already... but Teen called lava lamps kid shit… He decided to think it over for a while as he kept looking around. He wandered back over to where Teen was looking through the wall of coffee mugs and holding a pair of weed leaf gauge plugs.

Teen kept pointing out cool or funny mugs, and while Little didn't want to get one that Teen liked, he kept pointing out all the good ones, so eventually he grabbed one that he pointed out that said "I fucking hate it here." Teen, meanwhile, grabbed a green one with more weed leaf imprints all over it.

Little rolled his eyes. "Wow, another weed thing. So original."

"At least my aesthetic is more than just Halloween and the word fuck," Teen snapped back. "I know what I'm about."

Little added his mug to his pile at the counter. After another few minutes of browsing (and stealing a cool wallet), Teen made his way to the "back of the store", looking for... well, something for personal use. He was stuck here, after all.

Max walked over after a moment. "Don't buy the Spencer's sex toys. They're really not good."

"Really? ...Even those over there?" Teen pointed out the more expensive soft silicone ones.

"I wouldn't. Nothing is made well. You're better off going to a place that specializes in this stuff."

"I guess the fake ID will still come in handy, then," he mumbled.

"Ahh, yeah, we should probably get you a new one of those. You definitely can't pass as over 30."

"Fucking hell, you're right."

"Of course I am. Don't worry, we'll figure that out. Look around the rest of the store for now, though."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Soon, after a little pressing from Neil ("We still need to get groceries and get home so I can make dinner before sunset."), they checked out with all the stuff Teen and Little had picked out and finally left the mall. 

Once they were in the car, Max glanced back at the younger two. "Y'know I saw all that, you little shits." It didn't sound angry; rather, a little prideful.

"Saw what?" Little asked. He made sure the stolen boob candy in his hoodie pocket didn't make any noise.

"The stealing. You're slick, but I know all the tricks, too."

"Like hell you saw all that."

"Who stole what?" Little challenged.

"You both grabbed pins from Hot Topic, you," he pointed at Teen, "put something like a wallet in your pocket, and you," at Little, "grabbed some of the weird candy at Spencer's."

"...How in the fuck?" Little frowned.

"No fucking way."

"I'm not gonna make you return any of it or any of that shit- there's a reason I waited until we were outta there to say something. But next time, not from my job while I'm right there. 'Cause then I have to deal with it and it's harder when I know the people who stole the shit."

"Fine, fuck..." Little grumbled.

"What, like you suddenly care?" Teen mocked, folding his arms.

"I don't. Steal from Spencer's all you want. Just not while I can see you."

"There will be consequences if you get caught, so it's better not to risk it," Neil pointed out, more to make sure Frankie didn't get ideas- especially not during the last days of Teshuva. 

"There's always been consequences if we get caught. That hasn't stopped us."

"Well, until we get everything figured out, you getting caught by authorities could fuck everything up on getting you worked into society, and instead of having somewhat normal lives, you could end up getting yourselves and Harrison turned into lab rats."

"Or, counterpoint, if that happens, we can just kill ourselves," Little said. "Win-win."

"Do you think the government would let time travelers escape that easily?"

"...fuck," Teen mumbled. "Fine, shit. But just until we're "worked in" or whatever the fuck."

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

Neil was the one cooking dinner that evening before sunset- extra food, and filling enough to last him through his fast for Yom Kippur- and he told Teen and Little to serve themselves as much food as they wanted. Little decided to really test that out and went beyond what he could eat. Neither Max nor Neil said anything about it, but Neil clearly looked happy that he was taking so much food. Teen, who had been to Neil's house and experienced the "Eat as much as you want" from him and his family before, took a smaller serving. He wasn't that hungry. He never really was.

Once they were all settled at the table, Max spoke up. "So. We gotta figure out our story for where you two came from and why you're living with us now."

"Of course we do," Little mumbled.

"Not if you let us kill ourselves."

"Shut it."

"We're not going to let you kill yourselves," Neil said in exasperation. "We can easily hack your information into where it needs to be, we just have to figure out what all of the information is."

"And how the hell do we do that?"

"Well, first of all, who are we saying are your parents? 'Cause it would be really suspicious if me and Neil suddenly had two kids older than Frankie."

"How are we supposed to know?" Little shot back. Neil leaned back, thinking.

"Did I say you were supposed to know? It's called brainstorming, smartass."

"It sounds like a fucking pain in the ass to come up with all of this shit."

"I think... Well, if you two were to get a DNA test done, it would show that your parents are still, well... your parents, so I think as close as we can be to whatever is the truth, the better off we'll be," Neil explained.

"We're not fucking living with them or whatever the shit, right?" Teen eyed him.

"Absolutely fucking not. Especially since dad's dead."

"Dad's dead?" Little asked, any mask to seem more tough and frustrated completely falling away.

"He fucking died? " Teen exclaimed at the same time.

"Who died?" Frankie whispered to Neil.

"Er... Papa's bad dad," Neil quietly explained.

"Oh."

Max fidgeted with one of his gauges. "Yeah. Uh- he... died when you were almost a year old. Drunk driving," he added in a mumble to the other Maxes.

"Figures. Bastard."

"Is that why I don' know him?" Frankie asked.

"You don't know him or my mom because they're not good people."

"Yeah... The only problem is your mom, really... Since she's... probably aware she hasn't had other kids…"

"Ugh, yeah, probably... If we started going around saying my parents had other kids, she'd probably say shit…"

"Fuck, why couldn't they just both be dead?" Little said, stabbing some food with his fork.

"Because life isn't fair," Max complained.

"We could..." Neil started.

"I don't wanna talk to her."

"I know, but if we don't come up with any other ideas... Well, we know she'll be civil, at least... Maybe... Hopefully she'd at least go along with it… She does owe you. We might as well manipulate her into doing you at least one favor in your life."

"She's been doing me a favor by staying the fuck out of my life," Max grumbled.

"We don't have to let her into your life, just get her to play along if something pops up."

" If we go with that plan," Teen said.

"Right. Only if we can't think of anything else," Neil agreed. "...I guess we could say both of your parents had twins separated at birth that ended up together, but that's an even less probable story."

"And what would be the odds that both of those twins also moved to America?" Max added. "If not, then we'd have to explain why these two are here and not in India."

"Exactly, and why none of the family knows of those twins."

"Can't we say we're like, your cousins or something? Instead of brothers?" Teen asked.

"We'll still need to figure out who your parents were, and if they're dead, explain how you went to us of all people; and if not, then convince them to play along and explain why they aren't raising you. At least we know your real parents are pieces of shit and it wouldn't be a big surprise if they had some secret kids."

"So, what? They had us but didn't raise us? Who's been raising us, then?"

"There's another more... reclusive family member that died recently... " Neil said slowly, still letting things fall into place. "Maybe they gave teenage Max over to them to save money on child rearing and when Max's mom got sent to mandatory rehab, little Max ended up in the care of that family member too?"

"That could work. And me not knowing you two lines up then, because you would've been born when I was..." Max did the math on his phone, "18 and 24. So after I left that apartment. And, conveniently, during when abortion was illegal in Ohio."

"Wait, what?" Little asked at that last part.

"Ugh." Teen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, they're "currently" working on banning abortion in like, half the country. They just overturned Roe v Wade."

"Right. They did finally make it legal again, but fuck was that a shitty time."

"Too many people died because of that shit," Neil stated.

"Or got arrested, or were born into families that weren't gonna or couldn't take care of them."

"Yeah, those things too," Neil agreed. "It was fucked up all around."

"I hate this fucking country," Teen grumbled.

"It's gotten better since then."

"Yeah, it was kinda like a rollercoaster." Max moved his hand in an up-down-up motion. "It's still not great, but it's not Trump-era anymore."

"Who's dat?" Frankie whispered to Neil again.

"Well, think of Mr. Campbell's con stories. He's like that, but did so on a huge scale, became president, and ended up being found guilty of treason against the United States after making everyone here look like a bigger joke than the US already is," Neil tried to quickly explain.

"Yeah, he was a big fucking asshole, a dumbass, and tried to kill or make most people illegal."

"...You're fucking joking, right?" Little asked. There was no way all of America was stupid enough to actually elect that bastard... right?

"They're not," Teen grumbled. "That was the longest four years ever. Thank fuck he's finally gone. I haven't actually thought about him in like, two years and it's awesome."

"...I guess you haven't dealt with the treason shit yet," Neil said.

"...I feel like I've heard something about it."

"It was its own shit show, with threats of Trump rounding up his cult to do another coup."

"Of fucking course he does. God damn it. He's such an idiot."

"...Coups? Jesus Christ." Little shook his head.

They finished dinner and decided on the plan of passing Teen and Little off as Max's brothers, realizing that that meant they had to get their mom in on the plan. Max was very appreciative of Neil volunteering to be the one to call.

“I’ll call her… Tuesday, probably,” he said. “Because by the time I prep the script, it’ll be too late to call. And tomorrow is Yom Kippur, so Frankie and I will be… you know, at temple all day.”

“Yeah, got it. I’m all for procrastinating this shit anyway.”

The next day was the first day Teen and Little would be at the apartment alone since they had… appeared. Neil and Frankie had left early, before 7:00 am, and Max was leaving for work by 11:30.

"I'm not fucking babysitting," Teen complained when Max told them they'd both be home alone until 7:00.

"You're not babysitting. It's you, I don't think that counts as babysitting. Besides, we all know we were capable of being home alone by the time we were, like, five."

"No one babysits me," Little shot back.

"Exactly. You're not babysitting. You don't have to babysit anyone 'cause he ," he pointed towards Little, "can take care of himself."

"Ugh. Fine."

"I can't believe you fucking thought you'd be able to babysit me," Little scoffed.

"I literally said I wasn't gonna babysit you."

"You guys are fine. Just hang out until we get back from work. We'll both be home by 8:00, help yourselves to food and the TV and whatever else you need."

"Like bleach," Little mumbled under his breath.

"No," Max said sternly. Little rolled his eyes.

Max soon left, leaving Teen and Little alone in the apartment. Little just decided to drink another cup of coffee because he could and mope for a bit. Teen, after a few minutes to make sure Max was really gone for a while, got up and went to Max and Neil's room to snoop around.

Eventually, Little got up to follow him. There was nothing else good to do, and what the hell was his teen self doing? It didn't feel like general snooping at that point; he had been in there for too long.

Little raised an eyebrow and watched for a bit, just seeing how focused Teen was on whatever he was doing. Teen noticed him after he looked up from checking the drawer and raised an eyebrow back. 

"What do you want?"

"I'm trying to figure out what the fuck you're doing."

"I'm trying to find his stash. It's such bullshit he's trying to "portion" my weed or whatever the fuck."

"It's really taking you this long just to find some weed?"

"Well apparently he's using different hiding spots, because I'm checking my usual spots first and I'm not finding anything. And you know how good we are at hiding things."

"Really?" Little asked doubtfully, pretty sure he could find it if he tried to.

"Yeah." Teen moved onto the next spot. "I mean, if you wanna help me look, I'll let you have some."

"...Sure, I guess." Little began looking halfheartedly. 

He ended up unintentionally checking a few places Teen had already looked, and the other spots he looked in were empty. Teen checked the bedside tables (which was another dead end; no weed, only a couple… bedroom toys) and under the bed before he looked in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. 

"Fucking finally!"

"Took long enough," Little complained.

"I found it before you did." Teen pulled his new stash jar out of his pocket and started filling it with a little bit of everything (weed) in the medicine cabinet.

"You're the one who's desperate to find it. I just have nothing good to do."

"I'm not desperate ." Teen rolled his eyes. "I just think it's bullshit that he's portioning me. So fuck him, I'm gonna steal whatever the hell I want." Once his jar was full (leaving the other ones nearly empty), he plugged it back up and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Sure you aren't. Now come on. I'm holding you to your deal."

Teen flipped him off, but led him out onto the patio. He pulled out the jar and his bowl, packed it, and showed Little how to light it. "And you don't have to hold it in, but like, try to breathe deeply." Teen smoked some and let it out with a cough. "And if y-you don't- ack- if you don't cough, you're not doing it right."

Little rolled his eyes and took it, fully planning on not coughing like a wimp. He did what Teen showed him and took a hit. His eyes immediately began to water and there was a moment of regret, but he was determined and powered through it for an actually impressive amount of time, considering his age and how many times he'd done this before (being none). But he eventually entered a coughing fit, nearly dropping the bowl.

Teen rolled his eyes, able to tell that Little had been trying to act tough about it. He held his hand out to take the bowl and lighter back for another hit. Little was still coughing after handing them over and was already feeling weird. Teen took another hit, not coughing quite as much as Little was. He sighed once he finished it off and put the stuff on the patio table, sitting back. 

"...so? How d'ya feel?"

"I- ack- I don't know... Weird…"

"Mmm-hm." 

After another minute, Teen stuffed the pipe and lighter back into his pockets and headed inside. Little just stared at him going in, not moving to follow. Teen didn't nudge him to follow or anything, just went inside and sat back on the couch. He put on some music (seeing new stuff from his favorite bands… hurt, because it reminded him, again, that he wasn't when he's supposed to be), an album he was familiar with, and decided to turn on whatever gaming console they had and see what games there were.

It took about 7 minutes before Little realized that he was alone on the balcony and got up to move inside. Teen already had music playing (The Black Parade album) and he was clicking through the games catalog on the TV. He looked over when Little appeared. 

"Oh fuck, I forgot you were out there."

Little carefully closed the door nonetheless, still getting used to the new feeling of his body and mind.

Teen laughed (a little too much) and patted the couch next to him. "C'mon, chill out and have fun."

Little glanced around, a little paranoid at the laughing, pretty sure it was directed at him but not sure why. ".....Uh... yeah, ok..." It took him a little too long to move to the couch.

Teen went back to clicking through the games catalog, looking for something familiar, or at least interesting. Little sat and stared at the screen, the flashing lights of the games passing by mesmerizing to some extent. Teen eventually found some online first-person shooter game and started that up, grabbing the headphones and mic sitting with the console. 

Little watched him play, and it wasn't long before one of the kills had Little laughing a bit. Teen was definitely yelling at the other people in the game, but Little laughing made him laugh.

"What's so funny, asshole?"

"My uh- my brother," that was the lie they were going with, right? "is laughing at you dying."

"Oh fuck him!"

"Hey, fuck you! Fuck off!"

"Yeah, fuck you," Little parroted, still laughing.

They played for about an hour, with Little grabbing the second headset, laughing and having fun swearing at everyone in the game, and Little being giggly and enjoying the lightheadedness as they played. Once Teen got bored with playing, he turned the game off and sat back, humming along to the music that was still playing. Little was quick to grow bored, and without a distraction, he was starting to notice something.

Teen grabbed something from the snack stash he put together and sat back down on the couch to eat it. Seeing Teen do exactly what he had been starting to realize and think about spurred Little to do the same. He grabbed a few snacks, though, and sat to listen to the music now.

"...You listen to this song a lot," he said when a new song started playing- it started with screaming and went on to talk about wouldn't it be great to be dead?

"Mm?" Teen looked over and swallowed the snack he had been eating. "Oh. Not usually." He shrugged a little. "It feels fitting, since dad is finally dead. It's... celebratory or something."

A smile spread across Little's face at remembering that. "Oh, yeah... I like that…"

Teen laughed. "Fuck yeah." He watched Little curiously while he was listening to the song. "So I'm gonna assume you're into them?" He motioned toward the laptop playing the music.

Little rolled his eyes. "I don't know."

Teen shrugged a little. "Alright."

Little did enjoy listening to the songs, though. They sounded angry and a little aggressive- like the next one, about teenagers being violent and mean. He liked that one. He even started singing along once he knew the words in the chorus.

After Teen finished his snack, he ended up falling asleep on the couch... leaving Little to look through the music on Max's laptop on his own. He snuck over to the laptop and started looking into what Teen was using to listen to music (Spotify) and what other songs were connected to whatever list he was using. He had been listening to an album- by someone called My Chemical Romance- but there were a couple playlists on the side of the app that Max had put together. He decided to listen to more of the album that was already playing before going to see what "lame" music his adult self was into.

He clicked on the playlist, "Songs To Practice Death To", and scrolled through to look at what was on it. There were a couple different bands that showed up a lot- My Chemical Romance again, but also Twenty One Pilots (he had… been listening to them a little since he stole David's phone), Insane Clown Posse, Rage Against The Machine, Cavetown, Fall Out Boy, The Front Bottoms… 

He glanced at Teen before choosing one of the more enticing titles in the playlist- a song called Fuck The World- and then letting the playlist play on shuffle to see what came up. The fact he actually really liked the songs that his lame adult self liked had him a bit frustrated; they were supposed to be lame like his adult self, but the music was… good. He liked Sarcasm, and Bullet and There Isn't Any God both got him laughing a bit. He wasn't sure how to feel about The Village- it was so obviously about being transgender, and it made him uncomfortable.

Well, at least most of the songs were good.

Chapter Text

Neil called Max’s mom around noon the next day, after prepping the script all morning.

It took a moment, but eventually the phone stopped ringing, and an accented voice that sounded rough and smokey from decades of cigarettes came through. "Hello? Who the hell is this?"

Off to a great start, I see . "Hello. I'm... not sure if you remember me, um- it's Neil Acker, your... son's husband."

"Neil- ...Oh, yes. Um... Wait... is something wrong? Did something happen to Max? Is Frankie ok?"

"Wow, I didn't expect her to care," Max mumbled.

"No, they're... both fine. But there's a... situation, and it's complicated to explain, but we... needed to meet up and talk."

"Oh, of course... Um... What... Where? When?"

"Your apartment. Tomorrow, preferably, one o'clock?"

"Ok... That should be fine, I... I'll have 3 hours before- No... Yes, that's fine. Is there anything I can do for this? Anything you need for me to grab, or-?"

"No. We'll see you then. Have... a day. Goodbye."

"Goodbye…"

Neil hung up and let out a big breath. "Ok, that's done. Shit, this is going to suck, isn't it?"

"She makes everything hell," Max agreed. "Thanks for doing the call."

"Of course. And if you want to leave with the other Maxes after we show her, that's ok."

"I'm not gonna make you be alone with her. No one deserves that. I'll be fine. I'm just gonna need... a lot of weed."

"I can't fucking believe you're making us go," Teen complained.

"Just to prove you're real. Then you can leave."

"It's going to be fast, and I think I can take your mother," Neil said.

"Maybe. But you shouldn't have to. She wasn't exactly nice to you, either, and last time I remember talking to her, she still wasn't happy about you being Jewish. I'm not gonna make you be alone with her."

"I didn't get traumatized by her for the formative years of my life," Neil shot right back.

"Neil, seriously. Don't deprive me of finding an opportunity to punch her."

Neil chuckled a little. "That I won't do."

Max grinned a bit. "One comment about your hands and she's getting it." He punched his palm.

"Do it!" Teen exclaimed.

"Fuck yeah." Little smiled at that idea.

The next day, they dropped Frankie off with Neil's mom and drove the two hours to Max's mom's new apartment. They made their way up to the apartment number she told them, after Max (and Teen) took a couple big hits in the parking lot. Max hadn't been kidding when he said he would need a lot of weed for it.

Finally, Neil knocked.

The door opened to reveal an older Indian woman with henna markings going down an arm onto her hand, gray and thinning hair, a nice dress shirt, and nice pants, with some pretty, detailed flip flops. 

Max definitely had more of a reaction to seeing her than Teen or Little did- he hadn't seen her in years- but none of them had ever seen her so… put together and expressive.

Neil just waved a little. "Hello…"

"Hello," she said, looking at adult Max (having not noticed the kids yet). "I... I have coffee ready... Please, come in…"

"Mm." Max nodded a little, but held onto Neil's hand as they stepped into the apartment.

"She looks, like, almost normal," Teen mumbled to Little.

Shanti blinked and looked around a little confused, before noticing the two Maxes. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and looked between Neil and adult Max and the kids. When she looked at them, Teen kind of stood in front of Little. Just a bit. 

"Yeah, I know, that's... why we're here. Can we just get this over with?"

She shifted. "Um... Who-?"

"Me. Both of them. Do you- probably not- That summer camp you guys sent me to since I was ten? One of the kids there we stayed friends with is magic. And his magic daughter made them from pictures of me on accident."

"...You're saying... these kids were made... with magic?"

"Yeah. So now we gotta kinda adopt them, but we gotta... make sure the story lines up."

"...Can we leave now?" Little asked, not liking that the vibe was something different than what he had expected. At least what he had expected was something he was prepared for, but he wasn't prepared for… this.

"Yeah, you guys can go." Max handed them an allowance debit card and the emergency phone. "There's $50 on here to spend for food and stuff. Try not to steal too much."

"Fuck off." Teen took them and flipped "his mom" off before leaving with Little. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

Little also flipped her off, but it felt... empty. This woman just didn't feel like her... Not the mom he knew; at least, currently- well, in his time, in the past. Maybe like someone he might have known many years ago…

Teen noticed it too and sighed a little. "I know, it's not the same. I always wanna do that, but it just feels... weird. Like she's soft now too. Why is everyone soft?"

"I don't fucking know," Little grumbled, heading for the stairs. "It's a stupid soft future."

"...This is... I'm not sure how to follow this…" Shanti said once they left. "You're saying magic is real?"

"Yeah, uh-huh. At least Harrison's is and Nerris's kinda is and they both say there's a lot more magics or whatever the fuck. Point is- they're here because of Harrison's magic."

"...I don't... They're really you?"

"Yep. From when I was ten and sixteen."

"Oh... And, you said they're... from pictures?"

"That's the working theory," Neil said hesitantly. "Because, um- well, they both remember taking pictures right before they were... created, and Nerrison found their camp photo with little Max missing from it…"

"...Ok... that's a lot... Oh, um, coffee, right. Go ahead, take a seat."

Max just sat down and leaned back, folding his arms. 

"I'm... fine, thank you," Neil denied.

"Yeah, we don't need coffee. We're here as little as we possibly can be."

"Oh... Ok, then..." She shifted nervously before sitting. Grabbing that coffee had been her way out to try and collect her thoughts.

"We just need to tell you what our storyline plan is."

"Your storyline? What- I'm not sure what you mean…"

"I mean, our lie for how they got here and why they're living with us now. Because we can't just go around telling people "oh, our magic friend made them." We'd look fucking crazy."

"I... guess you can't. But... They're here…"

"Yeah. But we don't wanna tell everyone about the magic."

"If the wrong people find out Harrison's magic is real... a lot of people could get hurt, or in trouble…" Neil tried to explain. "We want to keep them safe."

"Ok, that helps make some sense... So... You need me for...?"

"To keep the story tight. If they got DNA tested, they're gonna come up as biologically your kids. So the story is, they were born after I left, you gave them to Jorani, and after he died, they ended up with me and Neil."

"Ok... um... That makes sense... When would that be?"

"At their births. And they were "born" when I was eighteen and twenty four."

Shanti looked at her lap, trying to figure out what that meant. Fuck, how old was he right now? Let's see, she had had him in... 2006- no, 2005…

"...you don't know how old I am, do you?" Max deadpanned.

"Give me a moment…"

"Figures," he mumbled.

She started counting in her head.

"Their new birthdays would be in 2023 and 2029," Neil interrupted, not wanting to wait through it.

"Mm-hm."

"... 2023? ...That... might line up with- hm..."

Max raised an eyebrow.

"...line up with what...?" Neil asked cautiously.

"Ah... There was..." She looked at her hands and how they trembled in her lap- a mixture of the nerves and the damage from all those drugs. "...There was almost another."

"...huh. Mm." Max... wasn't sure how he felt about that. Honestly, probably good for the kid that they didn't end up existing. He was a little jealous. "...well, then, yeah. That probably lines up or whatever."

"If that helps... I don't know…"

"Sure, I guess."

Shanti shifted nervously. "I'm just...I want to help if I can."

"That's all you need to do. Just play along with that story."

"That's really all?"

"Yeah. That's it."

"...Is there more to the story?"

"None that you need to know, really. You gave birth to them, gave them to Jorani, Jorani died, they ended up with us."

"...Because of my history with drug abuse?"

"Probably. You didn't even want me, I figured you wouldn't want them either."

She looked to the side of her, hurt but understanding. There was so much she wanted to say, to explain, but it wasn't her right to. "...Giving them up would be better," she softly half agreed.

"...yeah. And then we're saying they're my brothers." Max could see that she was hurt, but he... really didn't care. She had hurt him plenty. She could deal with it like he did.

"Yes... Your brothers... I just need to know I had them."

"Mm-hm. So- we're done, then?" Max looked at Neil to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything.

"Yeah. If there's anything else we need, I can just call her," Neil stated.

Max nodded and stood up. "Alright, then let's go find them."

Once they were out and walking to the car, Max sighed. "Shit. That... wasn't terrible? I hated it, but at least nothing went... horribly wrong."

"Yeah, it went really smooth for... what that was. How are you doing?"

"I'm... uh... ok, for seeing my mom for the first time since I was eighteen... Shit..." His hands were shaking a little, but he did seem mostly together. "The weed probably helped."

"Yeah... Is there anything you want to do before we go back home?"

"I dunno. We could probably get lunch. ...Riya would probably be happy to see us... We haven't been in Cleveland since the last concert."

"That would be nice. Yeah, let's go get lunch."

Max pulled out his phone to call Teen and Little, and Teen answered the phone when it rang. "Shit, are you done already?"

"We haven't gotten to do anything yet," Little complained.

"Yeah, I know, it was a lot less of a shit show than I thought it would be," Max agreed.

"We barely even left the apartment."

"Yeah. We were gonna do lunch at Tandoori Grill. Do you guys wanna meet up or go do your own thing?"

Teen was a little thrown off that he was asking, and Little's eyes widened a little at overhearing that. As much as he wanted to ditch Max and Neil, the idea of seeing something more normal to what he remembers was tempting… But he waited for Teen to answer.

"...uh-" Teen actually looked to him. "I dunno. Did you wanna do something?" Little shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but very clearly eager to go to the restaurant. Teen snorted a little. "Yeah, let's do Tandoori. Food sounds good. We barely left the apartment, we'll just come back to the car. See ya."

"Great... Now we have to walk back…"

"Yeah, c’mon. I guess they thought it was gonna take longer."

The restaurant had changed since the memories that Teen and Little had had. Sure, it was still recognizable, but it had still aged like everything else. It was larger and fuller, there were new tables and chairs. Teen recognized the self-serve order screens that had started popping up in so many fast food and sit-down restaurants, and there were signs in the window, like nearly every other store they had seen, that stated the location was cashless.

They got sat (by a younger family employee, who didn't recognize the young Maxes), and waited for Riya to come over. Little kept looking around uncomfortably. The chairs were different, the feel of things were just... not the familiarity he was wanting… And Teen clearly wasn't happy about it, either. He went quiet, just picking at the corners of the menu.

After a few minutes, Riya came out. "Hello, and what can I- Oh, Max and Neil! What a nice surpri-" She trailed off as she took note of the kids sitting across from them, furrowing her eyebrows.

They were both taken back by how much older she looked; her hair was longer and starting to gray, pulled back in a bun to show off her bindi, and she had age lines and wrinkles.

"Yeah, ok, I can explain the situation, but you gotta keep it on the down low," Max said.

"...Uh..." She was still staring, noticing the older one's hoodie, and just absolutely floored by the fact they looked exactly like younger Maxes. Teen shrank into said hoodie, pulling the hood up over his face. He didn't like being center of attention, even if he knew the person was safe. "...What's- Who are these kids?" She asked, still staring at them. Even their mannerisms matched.

Max glanced around at the tables around them, trying to figure out the chances any of them were fluent in Hindi... And still spoke quietly, but switched languages. "[Do you remember our friend Harrison we've told you about?]"

"[Yes, I remember that you're friends with the famous magician.]"

"[Right, yeah. Well, his daughter did some magic on accident and, uh... she created them from a couple old pictures. So they're... me's from the past, except not from the past.]"

"[It's weird and confusing and stupid,]" Teen mumbled from inside his hood.

Riya glanced between them. "[...Harrison's daughter... did... made people with magic...]"

"[Yyyyeah. So now we're stuck with them. We're figuring out plans and stories and stuff.]"

"[You're really just going to blindside me with the fact your magician friend isn't just some fucking stage performer with really good smoke and mirrors and that his own kid can just make whole ass people?]" Riya asked in a fast, angry whisper.

"[...shit, have we not told you that?]"

"[I... don't think we have...]" Neil whispered.

"[Fuuuuck. I lose track of who knows and who doesn't. Shit, I'm sorry, I swear we told you.]"

"[Yes, you're sorry. You're off having fucking magic adventures with a- a...] wizard [and don't even bother to tell me about it.]" Riya rolled her eyes and added with an exasperated sigh, "[What am I going to do with you?]"

"[I'm not doing jack shit. We don't go on adventures. His magic is fucking annoying-]"

"[Agreed]," Teen said.

"[And we try to ignore it as much as possible.]"

"[And technically he's a wild mage sorcerer-]" Neil interrupted. "[Um- if we're going by Dungeons and Dragons classifications. Which is what they go by, so...]"

Riya shook her head. "[This... is certainly a mess you've found yourselves in, whether you wanted an adventure or not.]"

"[Yeah, that tends to happen with us,]" Teen mumbled.

Chapter Text

They sat down for dinner again that night (with Max telling Teen and Little, again, to help themselves to as much food as they wanted) and once they were settled, Max spoke.

"So, if our story is gonna be that you're my brothers, we're gonna have to come up with new names for you guys."

"...Are you fucking kidding me?" Little asked.

"No way!" Teen protested. "I've been Max for this long, I'm not giving it up now."

"Yeah well, our parents wouldn't name all three of their kids Max, even with how neglectful they are."

"We named ourselves Max," Little shot back.

"Yeah! We're still trans, so whatever the fuck "they named us" doesn't matter."

Max rubbed at his face thoughtfully. "True... But, you two both knew each other before transitioning. So even if you," he pointed at Teen, "coincidentally, still named yourself Max, unless you," pointed at Little, "named yourself after your big brother, you can't both be Max."

"Fuck that," Little immediately responded in a rebellious little "how dare you even think of such a thing" attitude.

"Exactly. So, are you ok with choosing a new name?"

"Because I'm not." Teen folded his arms. "I've been Max for this long, and I'm staying Max."

"We might make it Maxwell officially, just to differentiate, but we can still just call you Max," Neil suggested.

"You really want people to think you named yourself after him?" Little asked Teen.

"I "didn't know him" when I transitioned."

"Are you going to tell everyone you meet that?"

"...ugh..." Teen made a face and slouched back in his chair. "...fuck, yeah, I'd have to out myself to people if I said that…"

"It also just sounds exhausting."

Teen groaned. "This is fucking stupid! I've been Max for like, 7 years. I shouldn't have to change it now."

"Yeah well, I've been Max for 20ish years, so I get priority with it."

"I know this really sucks," Neil said, trying to provide some sympathy.

"And you don't have to pick new names right now on the spot," Max added. "Take some time to think about it and find something you like."

"I liked Max," Teen mumbled angrily.

"Max was just a nickname we could pass off as short for Maxine," Little said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but now I like it just as Max."

"I know, it sucks. I'm sorry you gotta change it."

"It was stupid and too close to the name our parents gave us anyway."

"Fuck off." Teen really did like the name Max now, and it felt weird to have to change it. Even if it had been "just a nickname" for his deadname.

"Both of you just take some time to find new names, ok? Once you have some you like, we'll work on faking all the document things."

Little fiddled with his food for a moment. "...What about Knife?"

"Knife? Really?" Teen raised an eyebrow.

"Hell yeah, if you wanna be Knife, do it."

Little looked at Max, trying to see what he was getting at. Was he being sarcastic? Was it some sort of reverse psychology?

"Seriously?" Teen gave Max a weird look. "You'd just let him be Knife?"

Max shrugged. "It's not my place to tell him what to name himself."

"...What about Future Corpse?"

"Hey, Corpse was already a super popular YouTube guy, so that could totally work as a name."

"You're fucking kidding me, right?"

"Nope. He did a few songs too actually, I think."

"So I'd have to deal with bastards thinking I named myself after that asshole."

"Or people thinking your parents were fans of his."

"We could start working on the documents," Neil said, thinking. "Because whatever names you choose, you're still trans... So, we really need to come up with new deadnames right now."

"Oh, true... But that doesn't need as much thought. We can kinda just pick things."

"That's what I'm getting at," Neil explained. "That way I can get started on everything at least."

"Sounds like a plan. So you two," Max pointed at the other two, "figure out new names for a while, we'll get started on documents."

"...What about Blood?" Little said, still looking for a more negative reaction.

"Oh that's fucking sick."

"You keep going with nonbinary names," Teen pointed out.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Little asked.

"Y'know, the noun names thing? The "clearly a chosen nonbinary name because it's a word that's not a real name and doesn't have a gender" thing."

"...What do you mean "doesn't have a gender" thing? What girl would name herself Blood?"

"Punk girls," Teen said. "Or goth girls."

"But that's the point," Max interrupted. "Blood isn't a real name, so it doesn't like, imply male or female. Nonbinary people like nouns for names because of that. Or that's how Nerris explains it."

"...What the fuck is nonbinary people?"

"...like- Nerris?" Teen said.

"...when the hell did Nerris come out?" Max looked to Neil.

"It was sometime between that first and second year of camp," Neil provided.

"Oh shit. So he's from before then."

"That's fucking weird," Teen said.

"So nonbinary is like- any gender that's not boy or girl."

"But... those are... the only genders...?" Little said slowly.

"Nope. There's a lot more."

"Even if you're just looking at like, physical sex, there's at least 6 scientifically recognized sexes, and that's without getting into how sex is really just a cluster of categories to try and explain a list of bimodal curves of characteristics that tend to have mostly females on one side and males on the other," Neil chimed in.

"That's the nerd shit." Teen waved it off a little. "The punk shit is just, cis binary genders is a system set up by white people and the government to control people. Do whatever the fuck you want, fuck the cis-tem."

"Ms. Nikki says gender is fucking weird," Frankie spoke up.

Max looked between them. "...O...K?" He was processing.

"Just- we're trans, right?" Max tried to explain. "And we know for sure that we're a boy, even if we were born a girl. So some people just know for sure that they're neither, or both, or a little of something. And it doesn't fucking matter because we're all just people anyway, and who the hell are any of us to tell other people what to do with their bodies or their lives?"

Little shifted, still processing.

"Max, I think he just needs to catch up for a minute," Neil quietly advised.

"Yeah, I'm- shit, I'm rambling again."

"You are. And that's fine, but it's a lot to take in all at once."

"Yeah, you're right." Max sat back a little, focusing on his food to give Little a moment.

The rest of the week was fairly relaxed. Neil took the rest of the week off of work, since he had already taken Monday through Wednesday off, and on Thursday morning-

"We're gonna go visit David and Gwen on Saturday, by the way," Max told Teen and Little at breakfast.

Frankie bounced excitedly in her seat. "Yayay!"

Little looked up from his food. "...Why?"

Max waved a little. "I told them about the situation and now David wants to see you guys."

"...you still talk to David and Gwen?" Teen asked, a little softly.

"Why the fuck does he want to see us?" Little asked suspiciously.

"Yes, we still talk to them. And I dunno why, it's David."

"Well, Max is like a son to David and Gwen," Neil explained. "He moved in with them at eighteen."

"We did?" Teen perked up a little.

"Yeah yeah. They'd officially adopt me if we didn't need my parents to sign off on it. But they're family now."

"Seriously?" Little asked in disbelief and... a little something he didn’t recognize.

"Mm-hm, seriously. And I'm not ashamed to admit that. They're just... my parents now. Frankie calls 'em-"

"Grandpa David and Grandma Gwen!"

"Yeah, exactly. And Oscar's practically my brother."

"Who the fuck is Oscar?"

"Gwen and David's kid," Teen answered.

"...Wait, they had a fucking kid?"

"They adopted him."

Little shook his head. "I still can't believe they're together. Gwen could have done so much better."

"Oh definitely," Max agreed.

"We tried to tell her that." Teen rolled his eyes.

"And I still can't believe you went and lived with them."

"It was better than staying in that apartment. And I couldn't live with Neil yet 'cause he was in college dorms."

"You could have lived alone."

"Not on a part-time minimum wage, I couldn't. Hell, not even on a full-time above minimum wage. Not at that time."

"Of fucking course."

"Look, I know it's hard to believe, but by the time I was eighteen, I didn't really hate David. He's annoying and I can only stand so much of him at a time, but I don't hate him. He was the first adult to actually give a shit about me."

As Max talked, Teen went quieter and got smaller, trying to hold back from starting to cry.

"Grandpa David is fun!" Frankie protested a little. "And he's really nice, he always plays games with me."

"Of course you think that. He's happy to be a long term fucking babysitter."

"...yeah!"

"Eh, actually, we rarely get to use him as a babysitter. Usually it's Neil's mom watching her, she's closer."

"Doesn't change the fact that he is."

"Mm-hm."

"That's all a camp counselor is," Teen mumbled.

Saturday morning after breakfast, the five of them packed up, with Teen and Little squished into the backseat of the car alongside Frankie's car seat, and started the 90-minute drive to David and Gwen's house.

Max set some music on the Bluetooth car radio, and the first song to play was Lemon Boy (Cavetown). Teen sat back a bit when he realized what song it was; it had been one of "his and Neil's" songs…

At the first "citrus friend," Little rolled his eyes. "Whose music is this shit?"

"Mine, technically, but once you're married, both of your music just kinda becomes everyone's music."

"Of course Neil would listen to lame shit like this," Little said, figuring that was what Max meant.

"I introduced it to him," Max corrected.

"Cavetown's trans," Teen mumbled a little. "And depressed."

"It's kinda one of "our" songs," Max added, and then... realized why Teen suddenly seemed so moody about the song.

"Jesus christ, that's cheesy and lame as fuck."

"Why don't you just mind your own fucking business?" Teen snapped.

"I'm pretty sure this does count as my business."

"Not yet it doesn't. Fuck off."

"Hey, both of you shut up. You're allowed to think it's a lame song, but we're allowed to enjoy it. So no one needs to be saying anything about it."

Little flipped him off in the rearview mirror. Max returned it, and by the time they were done arguing, the next song was playing.

"There, it doesn't matter, it's over," Teen said. "Now shut up."

Little huffed and went quiet, listening to the next song- the Bullet one he had liked so much. "This is more like it," he said after a couple lines.

Frankie was bouncing in her car seat to the music, but not really paying attention; she had been playing phone games since the ride began. The next song got Little's attention, and he listened more closely to it, since it didn't sound so much like a traditional suicide song. It took more of his attention to understand what he was listening to. 

About halfway through, Frankie grew bored and turned the phone off. She started kicking her feet a little, then reached down for one of the car books and tapped it against Teen's shoulder. 

"Will you read this pretty please?"

Teen groaned a little. "You probably won't leave me alone if I don't, so fine."

Frankie leaned over the edge of her car seat a little to see the pictures. Teen began reading the book, My Shadow Is Blue, a bit monotone at first, but as he realized… holy shit, it was a children's book about being trans, the emotion in his voice picked up.

After a moment or two, Little passed a confused glance their way. "...What the fuck?" He whispered.

"Right?" Teen whispered back after he finished the page. Max smiled a bit from the front seat, overhearing the story.

"...Why would someone write that?" Little asked. Teen was already reading the next page, so he just shrugged.

When he finished the book, he put it back with the other ones and Frankie started picking out another book.

"It's seriously... a trans kid's book."

"Yeah, like Papa!" Frankie responded.

"...It's weird," Little whispered.

"...yeah, a little weird... But, like... weirdly nice... I dunno."

"I don't know about that..." Little muttered, still not sure how he felt about all the pro-trans stuff.

"...I- well- I mean, if she's... like us, but she knows about all this stuff, she won't... end up like us, I guess."

"Can you read this one next?" Frankie held it out.

It was a sciencey kid's book, Teen could tell, so he just rolled his eyes. "Nah, I agreed to one book. Read it yourself."

"I dunno, wouldn't reading this stuff make her more like us?"

"Nah, transness isn't like, contagious. We didn't know anything about being trans and we still ended up being trans. At least if she ends up being trans, she'll know what the hell's going on."

"...Yeah, I guess you're right," Little admitted before going to look out the window emo-ly.

Chapter Text

Before very long, the car was pulling into David and Gwen's driveway. Max came around to the side of the car to get Frankie out of her car seat, and Teen and Little climbed out the other side. Little was so done with being cooped up in a car, but he clearly wasn't very happy about where he was.

They walked up to the door, and Max just opened it and walked in. Frankie ran past him to hug David, who had been waiting in the living room for them. 

"Grandpa David!"

David was quick to return the hug. "Frankie, it's so good to see you!"

"Mulberry street," Max mumbled in a quiet singing voice. "So good to see you."

Frankie then went over to hug Gwen and say hi to her, too. "Hi Grandma Gwen!"

"Hey little brat." Gwen ruffled her hair a little and hugged her back. Little stared for a moment, not sure how he felt about seeing that, but then he decided he must be irritated, since it was taking so long to figure out. Gwen looked over to wave a little, and paused once she sees Teen and Little. "Holy shit, you weren't lying."

"Why the hell would I lie about this?"

"I know, it's just different actually seeing them."

"It... really is just younger yous," David said softly, still on his knees from hugging Frankie.

"Yeah, we fucking get it," Teen mumbled, folding his arms.

"Well, I won't force either of you, but if you'd like a hug..." David offered, holding his arms out a bit.

Teen did want a hug... but he had a persona to put on. "Ugghhh. Fine, but only because you probably won't shut up about it or whatever." He met the hug, trying to look like he was upset about it, but... it was actually really nice…

David let him determine how long the hug lasted, making it firm to feel secure, but not locking his hands together so it was easy for him to break out when he was ready.

It lasted for maybe ten seconds before Teen broke it. "Ok, enough of that, fuck off."

"Doing so," David stated, pulling away a little.

Teen did pout a little, but ignored him, looking around the house a little. "So, this is... your house. It's so David. It's lame."

"And you?" David asked, looking to Little, who flipped him off. "Ok, got it."

"Eh, I'll take his." Max accepted the hug offer too. David was happy to stand up and hug his Max. 

Little just rolled his eyes. "Both of you are so fucking lame."

Max just shrugged and hugged David back. "Don't care, didn't ask."

David chuckled a little.

"It seems like they were taken from pictures that were taken around the ends of the first and seventh year of camp," Neil said, wanting to try and explain this, still dealing with the fact they had been magicked to life himself.

"Yeah, we found the pictures with them missing from them," Max added. "And they only remember right up to those pictures being taken."

"...And one of Nerris and Harrison's kids did this, right?" David asked. They had said something like that on the phone.

"Yeah, Amarie. They've got... really powerful magic."

"Harrison's magic did seem like something special," David admitted, though there had always been that doubt that most people gave stage magicians.

"It's fucking stupid is what it is," Teen complained. "'Cause now we exist, on accident, in a place we're not supposed to be, and they," he motioned to Max and Neil, "won't even let us kill ourselves."

"Just because your existence is an accident doesn't mean you're not meant to be here," David insisted. "You're here now and that's what really matters. Now you two get to build lives that you want to live in a home that supports you the way you deserve."

"Uh, that's exactly what "accident" means," Teen mocked, ignoring the rest of the speech.

"He means in some sort of metaphysical way of "everything happens the way it's supposed to" or something like that," Gwen explained, rolling her eyes a little.

"That's bullshit."

"Yeah, even I gotta agree on that," Max said. "Nothing happens "for a reason." Shit just happens and we gotta work with it."

"Same thing, really," David said with a shrug.

"It's not," Max deadpanned.

"Well, either way, you have your futures to look forward to," David said, kneeling down to be more on Little and Teen's levels. "You are always welcome here, just as much as our Max is, and if you need any help at all, Gwen and I are here to give it to you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever..." Teen mumbled, but added on a quiet, "Thanks."

"Just like at our apartment," Max agreed. "We wanna help you guys, and you're allowed to take or ask for anything you could need. Because it's your guys' home too."

"You're all too sappy," Little complained.

"Well, I am a Maple," David joked.

"Holy fuck I forgot that was your last name," Teen said.

"I still can't believe I willingly took it," Gwen lamented jokingly. David laughed.

"I still can't believe you started dating him," Little pointed out.

"Yeah, you could have done so much better than David ." Teen rolled his eyes.

Gwen shrugged a little. "Maybe. But I didn't want better. I wanted him."

"Boooo," Max said, and leaned against Neil on the couch. "I can't believe you married a fucking nerd."

"I fucking hate everyone here so much," Little grumbled, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. It was too lovey-dovey.

"They suck," Teen agreed.

"Yes, in fact, I do." Max poked Neil's nose.

Neil blushed. "Max," he mumbled under his breath, very embarrassed. Max just grinned, very little-shit-like.

Teen sulked a little, feeling moody at them being so affectionate. He was still missing and grieving his own Neil.

"Gross, dude. We don't need to know that," Gwen joked.

"Hey. Don't be a fucking homophobe."

After about ten more minutes of them joking around, bullshitting, and so forth, David pulled Max aside to ask him something. Max followed him around the corner to the next room. 

"What's up?"

"Well... I figure that this is... a lot for everyone to be dealing with, and those kids are probably dealing with a lot of... not having their own stuff from before…"

"...yeah... I didn't have a lot of my own stuff as a kid anyway, but... I think they're both still adjusting, and not very smoothly."

"Well, we still have all of the stuff you left here after college. I didn't want to overstep, but if you're ok with it, I was thinking they could have some of it. It's closer to the time they would have owned it than you at this point."

"Oh, shit. Yeah, that's actually a good idea. We can let them pick through and take whatever they want."

"Ok, can I bring some boxes out to the living room, then?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, I'll go get those. Be right back," David said, already on the way. Though he was doing his best to sound excited, there was a tinge of sorrow at the idea of losing all the sentimental things one of his kids had left behind.

Max headed back to the living room. "David's gonna grab the stuff I left here when I moved out, so you guys can grab anything you want."

Little shrugged. "I doubt there's anything actually good in that stuff."

"Well, at least it'll be some extra clothes that'll fit him." Max motioned to Teen.

"That'll be nice, I guess." Teen shrugged a little.

"Yeah, I guess so."

David came out with two boxes. "Hey there, younger Maxes! I have some of Max's old stuff for-"

"Max already told them," Gwen interrupted.

"Aw, ok..." He set them down on the coffee table.

Teen started looking through some of the boxes. "Hey, I actually already have- had- these posters, so I'm taking these."

Little poked at one of the less sentimental stuffed animals David had given his Max at some point before grabbing up a forgotten fidget spinner in confusion. Teen also grabbed pretty much all the left-behind clothes, because they were all items he already owned- along with a left-behind band hoodie that Max explained he had accidentally gotten two of as gifts. Teen also grabbed a fidget cube that had fallen toward the bottom of the box and messed with it a bit.

"I dunno why these things are so, like... almost addicting. They're just these stupid little toys."

"What is it?" Little asked, not even holding the fidget spinner right.

"Oh my god, when was the fucking fidget spinner trend?" Max looked toward Neil.

"It started like, a few years ago," Teen answered.

"Fidget spinner?" Little looked between the cube in Teen's hand and the thing in his own.

"That one's a fidget spinner." Teen pointed at the one Little was holding. "This one is a fidget cube. And fidget toys are like, "the trend" right now. But they're weirdly addictive."

"Well, of course. They're really good for people with ADHD. We have fidget devices hidden all around the house," David stated helpfully.

Teen rolled his eyes. "Ugh, don't tell me you're on that, too. Nerris keeps bugging me about it."

"...ah, shit. You guys aren't diagnosed yet."

"What do you mean?" Little asked carefully. He'd heard about that before, but wasn't really sure about it. From what he could remember, it was when kids were unbehaved in a more... Nikki-type of way than his careful planning.

"I, uh... I got diagnosed with ADHD." Max rubbed the back of his head. "When I was like, 20. Somewhere around there. Right at the beginning of my memories."

"...you're fucking kidding me ." Teen groaned, more just because he never wanted to prove Nerris right.

"So we're... mentally fucked up?" Little asked. "I guess that's not actually surprising."

"I mean, we knew that. We've always known we were depressed. But I got actually diagnosed with ADHD and BPD when I started therapy."

"You just had to prove Nerris right," Teen complained.

"It wasn't about proving Nerrs right," David corrected. "It was about getting the help you needed and access to the resources and accomodations you deserve."

"Actually it was to prove xem wrong when I took that Adderall at a party," Max mumbled.

"Blah blah blah, whatever bullshit that is," Teen remarked. "I'm nothing like them or Nikki."

"That's bullshit," Gwen shot at him. "You're a chaotic bastard like the rest of them."

"Well, people with ADHD come with many different personalities and backgrounds," David clarified. "It's a similarity many of us have, but we are all very different as well."

"I'm not crazy or wild or whatever."

"That's because you were forced to mature too fast," David stated softly. "Gwen and I also have ADHD. It's- your thoughts don't really stop, boredom is torture, and caffeine helps calm many of us down."

"Yeah, we're usually self-medicating with coffee. But we never did our homework, and even now you're still playing with that fidget cube."

Teen looked down at said cube in his hands and scowled, throwing it back in the box. "Whatever."

"What does that have to do with us being fucked up? Everyone "self-medicates" with coffee," Little said, rolling his eyes. "And all that shit just sounds normal. Everyone hates being bored, and your thoughts only stop when you're dead."

"Eh, yeah, that's not- not everyone experiences those," Neil said carefully. "You think that because that's your experience. But coffee isn't a medication for most people, and boredom is usually bearable, and most people can stop thinking. I can stop thinking."

"I can't!" Frankie raised a hand.

"Right, and we're still thinking about getting you tested for ADHD, like Papa."

Little frowned. "...This has to be a joke…"

"It's not, I swear. I have medical diagnoses for ADHD and BPD. Well- and depression and PTSD, but we always knew that."

Little poked at the fidget spinner, still not knowing how to use it. "So we're just bigger freaks than we thought."

Teen rolled his eyes and grabbed the fidget spinner, setting it on the coffee table to show Little how to spin it. "Yeah, what else is new?"

"But that's not a bad thing. Freaks are the best kind of people."

"I've seen enough of them on the streets. They really aren't."

"Punks and emos and fags and trannies are all freaks. And we're the best kinds of people."

"And so is the bum on the street that wants to touch your hair," Little shot back.

"Different situation. They've probably got their own shit going on that they deserve to get help with, but for the most part, as long as you're not actively hurting or creeping other people out, freaks are the best people."

"So they're only the best if they're freaks in the way you want them to be."

"There's nuance to everything, yeah. No single group is all the same. Just personally, I think freaks tend to be great people. And even freaks like that still deserve respect and the help they need. The only freaks that don't deserve respect are bigots and nazis."

"Sounds like you're just a fucking hypocrite to me."

"How?"

"Only the freaks you like are "the best", while the freaks you don't like aren't. Why do you get to decide?"

"I get to decide my opinion of people and vibes, yeah. That's how opinions work. And also, y'know, if you think someone should die for just how they exist, you're a shitty person and I'm gonna hate your guts."

"And they'll do the same with you."

"Good. I don't want nazis to like me. I want to punch them in the face."

"And he very much does," Neil pointed out. "I agree with it, but it's really becoming a legal issue."

"Only when I get caught." Max grinned.

"Fuck yeah," Teen said.

"The last time, he was sent to anger management."

"My anger was perfectly managed when I did it. I was completely in control of my emotions. I just chose to punch that guy."

"It was costly and our only way to keep you from being sent to jail for a year or more."

Max shrugged. "Totally worth it, though."

"Next time it might not be," Neil sighed, sounding exhausted.

Max sank back in the couch a little, reaching to hold Neil's hand and kiss the back of it. "Hey, I've totally chilled out since Frankie was born. I don't want her to go through me going to jail."

"I know, but it still... It's a lot to go through, and since we've had Frankie... it just gives me more anxiety…"

Max went a little quiet and leaned against his side. "I know. I'm sorry. I just wanna keep her safe."

"I know," Neil said, taking Max's hand gently in his. "We both do."

Teen busied himself with looking through the boxes, trying to ignore them acting so coupley again.

He ended up taking all the extra clothes, the band posters, and the fidget cube, along with a stolen stop sign that Max told him about taking during a drunk night in college. Apparently it had been the most exciting thing to happen in Sleepy Peak since Gwen had moved in. Little ended up with the fidget spinner, a poster, and a knife-shaped keychain.

Chapter Text

They settled in more over the next week. Teen and Little spent more days home alone while Neil and Max were at work, and plans kept getting made for starting them in school once their documents were faked and they were ready. Thursday morning, just after breakfast and Neil left for work and Frankie had gotten on the bus to school, Max brought out a case and a container and started setting… something up. 

Little didn't recognize the stuff enough to care. The case and container weren't recognizable to Teen, either, but... the little bottles and needles... he had an idea… 

"...what are you doing?" He asked from the couch.

"My T shot."

"Your what? " Little asked, looking back over.

"No shit." Teen perked up a little. "Really?"

"Yeah, my T shot. Testosterone."

Little stared, a little dumbstruck at it just.... going on right there in front of both of them. Was he really going to stab himself with them watching? Little glanced at Teen to see if he was watching too. He was, with almost rapt attention, so Little went back to staring, too intrigued to think of something to say.

Teen, after a minute or two, stood up and walked over to see better. "...when do we- when did you... start T?"

"When I was... uh... 22? 23? Somewhere around there."

Little followed after a moment. "...So... um... it's ok when you stab yourself…"

"It's like a shot. People do shots for medical reasons all the time. And it's only every other week."

Little rolled his eyes, but it wasn't very authentic in the emotion it was supposed to convey. Teen was definitely looking a little jealous or wishful, and Max could tell. He thought for a minute while he finished prepping before he finally said, "Y'know, since you're about to turn 17, we could probably get you started on T, if you wanted."

Teen blinked, looking up at him. "Seriously?"

Little's eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

" He could." Max nodded at Teen. "You couldn't yet. ...you might be able to do puberty blockers, though. I'd have to check that out."

"That- holy shit. Oh my god."

"Puberty blockers? I can avoid puberty?"

"You can avoid a girl's puberty, yeah. It'll just block any puberty hormones or whatever- so for you, like, estrogen and stuff- so you don't grow boobs or start a period. And then when you're old enough to start T, you stop the blockers. But you'll have like, a more neutral base to start T on."

"You're fucking- seriously?!"

"Yeah, of course. What, like I'm just gonna let you suffer through the same hell I did? We have the ability to stop that, of course I'm gonna offer it."

"Oh my god. Holy shit. I can start testosterone."

"I don't have to look like a fucking girl, holy shit." Little's hands shook a little in his excitement.

Max grinned a little, and finally did his own shot. "You won't quite look "like a boy", but you'll definitely look neutral enough that it'll be easier to pass."

"...you're really serious?" Teen just... had to check again. "You'd let us do this shit?"

"Yeah, of course. It's not like we can't afford it, and it's really not like we're not gonna support you guys being trans."

Little had a strong urge to hug Max, but resisted. Max finished up doing his T shot and started putting stuff away. 

"...you guys do know, though, that this means you gotta talk to a therapist?"

"W… what?" Little asked, the good feelings that made him want to hug someone disappearing.

Teen groaned. "You're fucking kidding me."

"Not a lot, and not for repeated sessions if you're not ready. But you gotta talk to a therapist and get a gender dysphoria diagnosis for this stuff."

"Yeah, let's just sit down and have to talk to some bastard that we can't tell the truth about our past to," Little deadpanned.

"They just need to document that you have gender dysphoria. You don't need to tell them about the magic shit, just the dysphoria shit."

Teen rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Yeah, that's the shit I don't wanna talk about."

"Yeah, let's talk about all of the dysphoria my parents caused. Oh, wait, that's right, I didn't fucking live with them."

"Jorani wasn't exactly busting out my new name and pronouns, either. And just- talk about not feeling like a girl and not wanting people to think you're a girl. That part doesn't have anything to do with our parents."

"I guess... They made it worse, but it's not like they're the reason we're dysphoric."

"Yeah, but they're a therapist," Little said. He had been in a school counselor's office before and remembered it. They were too invasive and therapists were only worse.

"Look, I don't make the laws. At least in Ohio, to start puberty blockers or hormones, you need documented gender dysphoria. That means talking to a therapist."

Little shifted uncomfortably. This felt dangerous... And it had to be because of their stupid magic circumstances... Right?

"That's such bullshit."

Max shrugged a little. "You guys have some time to think about it and make a choice. But we can't do hormones or blockers without the diagnoses."

Little folded his arms and glared at the ground, trying to think. "...Why can't we just fake the documents?"

"It's less documents and more written letters and actually talking to the therapists."

"...how- like- how honest do we really have to be? How much do we have to say?"

"Honestly? When I did mine, I just told them that I've been living as a boy since I was a kid and I've been planning to do hormones for years. That's all they really need. Probably less for blockers."

"...Wouldn't it be more? Since we're kids?"

"Blockers aren't permanent like testosterone is. With blockers, if you stop taking them, you'd start a girl puberty just like normal. If you stopped testosterone, there's a lot of stuff that wouldn't reverse."

Little thought for a moment. It still sounded dangerous... but if it went too wrong he could just kill himself.

"...fuck. I don't wanna talk to a shrink." Teen pouted a little. But starting testosterone sounded really nice…

Little finally shrugged. "Stop being a baby. If things go wrong we can just jump out of the window or some shit."

"Not if they put us in a fucking ward or something."

"That's not a risk because you don't have to talk about your depression or being suicidal. Jesus christ, I forgot how dramatic I used to be."

Little ignored Max.  "Can't put us in a ward if we're already falling out of the window."

"Better hope whatever office they have us in is high enough, then."

"Dive head first."

"Yeah, and then if you survive, you're definitely in a ward." Max rolled his eyes.

"I won't care if I'm in a coma."

"Look, we could do this all day. You guys have to make your own decisions. But we can't get you on any gender affirming care without documented gender dysphoria."

"Fuck. Fine, I'll talk to a fucking shrink," Teen said.

"...Yeah, I guess I will too…"

"Awesome. As soon as we have your documents faked and you guys have names, we'll schedule all that shit."

Teen groaned a little. "Fuuuck. I still need a name. I don't like anything as much as Max."

"We both do…"

"You've been going through names like I go through joints, kid. You still haven't found one you like?"

"We had one; you took it," Little pointed out.

Max sighed. "Yeah, I know. But we can't all have the same name."

Little rolled his eyes. "Just call me Blaze."

"Blaze is great. You're sure you're sticking with Blaze?"

"I don't fucking know."

Max sighed a little. "Ok."

Little waited that Saturday morning until everyone was up and sitting down for breakfast, because he only wanted to say this once.

Neil made breakfast (pancakes and fruit) and then went to wake Max up (Frankie had already been up and telling everyone about her dream from last night). Once Max was out and had his coffee, everyone sat down for breakfast. 

Once everyone was sat for a moment, Little spoke up, "I'm Blake now."

"Mm?" Max had barely had any coffee yet, so he wasn't really awake. "Wha's that?"

"My name, asshole."

"And I thought I was in an emo phase," Teen mumbled.

"Your name? ...what's it again?"

" Blake ."

"Ok, that's... pretty normal, actually," Neil said.

"Oh. Yeah, Blake's a good name."

Little went back to eating, not wanting to make it a big deal. Max didn't fully believe that this one was going to stick, either. 

"Ok, so he's Blake for now." He pointed to Teen. "You got a name yet?"

Teen shrugged a little. "I dunno. I guess... Axel, maybe? I've been thinking about it."

"Seriously? Like a car?" Blake asked.

"It's not just a car thing. It's a cool name. I like the X thing, I guess."

"Keep telling yourself that," Blake said, rolling his eyes.

"Fuck off."

"Both of you, shut the fuck up. Axel is a fine name. If you like it, you like it."

Blake shut up, a little intimidated.

"Yeah, whatever," Teen mumbled, poking at his food, shrinking in a little as well. Blake also poked at his food, quietly trying to recover from the moment of intimidation.

Max noticed the behavior after a moment, feeling a stab of guilt. He sighed, drinking some more of his coffee. "Sorry for snapping. It's just early, and you guys don't need to be arguing about stuff the other likes. But I shouldn't have snapped, it's not fair to you guys." 

Blake glared at him, very much not liking that he noticed.

"You sound like David," Teen mumbled. He still wasn't quite used to adults apologizing, especially to him.

"Yeah, maybe."

"It's really annoying."

"Yeah, I know. But I'd rather be annoying than... other things."

Another week passed before Teen had finally decided on a new name. He had thought over a few- Axel or Skull or Tyler- but none that he had told the others about. He wanted to be sure about the name he was choosing before he told anyone.

But finally, at dinner that night, he finally spoke up. "I'm naming myself Bandit."

"Ok, Bandit," Neil said, assuming this one would be short term too, but still being supportive of the renaming process.

Max paused for a moment. "...Bandit? After Gerard Way's daughter?"

Teen turned a little red. "Not after . But it's... a cool name."

"You're seriously naming yourself after a girl? " Blake asked.

"Bandit isn't a girl's name . It's gender neutral. And naming ourselves Max was naming ourselves "after a girl." We were a fucking girl. And I'm not naming myself after her! It's just a cool name!"

"Boys," Neil said somewhat sternly. "Blake, you need to stop being critical of the names Bandit tries out. Also, Bandit, you were never actually a girl, even if people made you live as one."

"Don't give me that bullshit talk." Bandit rolled his eyes. "I know, I get it. I've heard it from you a hundred times. Let me be transphobic to myself."

"Neil, just let him use whatever words he wants for his experience."

"Sorry, I was just trying to help prevent some dysphoria," Neil stated.

Blake folded his arms, not really liking that this person that was supposed to be his new parental figure corrected him and wasn't scary about it, even if it was just Neil.

"I can fucking handle myself," Bandit responded angrily. "You don't need to police how I talk about myself."

"Yes, I'm sorry. I overstepped there and I shouldn't have. I'll stop."

Bandit pouted a little. "...yeah. Good." He was still not used to arguments not popping up, and it was unnerving.

Chapter Text

Soon enough, Bandit and Blake's documents and paperwork were all faked and set up, meaning they were ready to start school by the first week of October. Neither of them was very happy about it, but Neil had been insisting that they had to attend school, and there was no getting out of it.

The Saturday before their first day, Bandit invited Blake to walk to Walmart with him. Blake, having nothing better to do, agreed. As soon as they reached the store, Bandit made his way straight to the health and beauty section. Blake followed him, mostly curious at what he was doing exactly, and not knowing the Walmart very well yet.

They reached the hair dye section and Bandit started looking through the colors. He was looking for a red with bleach kit- something bright and loud. Blake considered a few, a little tempted to get something blue, but worried that it would draw too much attention to himself.

Bandit glanced over at him. "...y'wanna dye your hair?"

"It sounds like a pain."

"Nah, it's fun. Most of it is just sitting around and waiting."

"And then you're the center of fucking attention."

"I've seen at least two dozen kids with dyed hair since we've been here. No one cares."

"It's like wearing a neon sign. Just 'cause some other people are doing it around you doesn't take the spotlight off you."

Bandit shrugged. "Whatever. It's up to you. But it's fun." He grabbed a box of temporary red.

"Shouldn't you not want people paying attention to you?"

"I don't care if people look at my hair."

"Doesn't it make it harder to sneak around?"

"Not really. No one really cares about dyed hair. So they're not gonna like, pay extra attention to me because of it. Or I just put my hood up."

"...I guess you're right..." Now Blake was more seriously considering it. Bandit started walking off now that he had his hair dye, and with him starting to move, Blake quickly grabbed one of the blue dyes. Bandit smiled a little when he noticed.

Once they reached checkout, he told Blake, "Grab a candy."

"Uh... Ok?" He grabbed a chocolate bar.

Bandit grabbed one for himself and held a hand out for the hair dye Blake was holding. Blake handed it over, watching him. Bandit winked, led them over to a self-checkout, and scanned the candy bars. Then he passed the hair dyes over while covering the barcodes. Blake noticed, and despite a smile, didn't react much.

With the items in a bag, Bandit paid (no more than $3) and they left.

Blake continued not saying anything, just shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket as he left and started walking away from Walmart. Once they were away from the doors, Bandit handed Blake his candy bar. 

"It's gotten so much easier since Walmart introduced self-checkout lanes."

Blake took the candy. "Yeah. Why would they do something as stupid as that?"

"So they don't have to hire as many people." Bandit started eating his own candy.

Blake took a bite of his own. "Yeah, so they lose all that paycheck money on theft."

They got back to the apartment soon and headed up. Max nodded at them from the couch when they entered. "Hey. What'd you guys get up to?"

Bandit almost hesitated to answer, but then reminded himself- it was him. He'd dyed his own hair before. "Stealing hair dye from Walmart."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, why do you need to know?"

"I'm showing an interest in your lives. It's a big deal in not being a neglectful parent."

"Yeah yeah whatever, we get it." Bandit waved him off.

"I wanna dye my hair!" Frankie exclaimed.

"Too bad," Blake said, partly to be an ass.

"Papa! Can I dye my hair?"

"Do you guys care if we use whatever dye you have left over?"

"Dye, sure whatever, but I probably don't have enough bleach for three people."

Blake rolled his eyes, feeling a bit ignored and just wanting to get on with it.

Neil stepped out of his bedroom, holding a book. "I'm not sure you'd like that, Frankie. Bleach has a really strong smell and it's going to be right next to your face for a while if you want to dye your hair."

"Can we do it without that stuff?"

"We got black hair, kid. If we don't bleach it, you're not gonna see any color."

Bandit nodded at Blake to follow him to the bathroom so they could get started. Once they were in the bathroom and closed the door, Blake sighed. 

"Finally."

"Yeah, they're fucking annoying." Bandit pulled out the hair dyes. "Alright, I'm gonna bleach your hair first and then I'll do mine. What are you thinking for coverage?"

"Uh... I don't fucking know."

"Well figure it out. Do you wanna do your whole head, or just half, or some stripes or something?"

"Fuck, um...  I guess... stripes?"

"Ok, so like," Bandit kind of "drew out" where the stripes could go with his finger, "something like that?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Sick." Bandit got music playing, put gloves on, mixed the bleach, and started working on Blake's hair. "Say something if it's burning or itching, yada yada."

"Are you saying like, if I'm allergic?" Blake asked.

"...aw fuck maybe that is why they say it," Bandit mumbled. "I was thinking like, if you have microcuts or whatever the fuck on your head."

"I'm not cutting my fucking head."

"No shit. But Neil explained it to me once, you just like, get microcuts a lot all the time from living or whatever. I dunno, I don't remember half the nerdy shit he says."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Sure, fine, whatever. Sounds stupid."

Obviously, nothing went wrong with the bleach. Once Bandit finished, they set a timer for the longest possible time they could leave the bleach in, then he started working on bleaching his own hair in the mirror. Blake sat in the bathroom to watch and hang out while he waited for his hair to process.

The bleach processing didn't take very long- about half an hour each- and once the timers went off, Blake struggled to rinse his hair in the sink and Bandit used it as an excuse to get himself to take a shower. Then they searched around for Max's hair dryer and blow dried their hair for the dye.

Blake fiddled with the bleached hair, not used to it, as Bandit mixed the dye.

"Y'like it like that?" He asked, noticing the movement. "Or do you wanna add more coverage?"

"It's fine," Blake said, a little frustrated at being asked questions every step of the way.

"Ok, shit. Don't mind me making sure you like it, it's just your hair." Bandit rolled his eyes and started applying the dye. "Whatever. If it's shit, it'll fade. First time I dyed my hair I did half red half blue, and it was so bad I didn't take my hood down until it faded. You're lucky I know what the fuck I'm doing now."

"I already said what I want."

Bandit rolled his eyes, but didn't respond. He finished up both of their dyes, and they finally left the bathroom while the color processed. Bandit grabbed a snack and smoked a bowl out on the porch now that he didn't need to focus anymore. Blake struggled to resist touching his hair for a while.

Max ended up dying Frankie's hair with the leftover bleach and blue dye (because "The blue looks like the ocean!"). They just did the ends of her hair and tied it up in a plastic grocery bag during processing. Neil was still hesitant about using bleach in her hair, but Max assured him she would be fine.

When the colors finished processing, everyone took their own showers and ended up showing off their new colors in the living room. Blake kept staring at his own, a bit impressed that he had done it and gotten away with it. He wasn't sure what he felt about both of the adults complimenting it.

Chapter Text

Monday morning, everyone was waking up early. They had to get dressed, eat breakfast, and get ready for Blake and Bandit's first days of school before they left at 7:30. The moment he had woken up, Blake was trying everything he could to talk his way out of going to school.

He kept ranting to an extra-grumpy Max, saying things like, "Why do I have to do this shit? You couldn't just give us some sort of online school where we don't have to do anything?" and "I shouldn't even exist, why do I have to go to school?" Max countered with the fact that now they did legally exist, and so legally they needed some kind of schooling, and he was not doing homeschooling, and even online school still required doing work. (Neil helped to articulate some of his points, since it was too early and Max was too uncaffeinated to talk properly.) Max also quickly saw through Bandit "feeling sick", considering he didn't start complaining about it until after he had been awake and arguing.

Finally, around 7:30, they left.

They drove to the elementary school first, and Bandit decided to stay out in the car while Max went inside with Blake and Frankie. Blake had his hands in his pocket, looking grumpy as they went in. Max kept one hand in the pocket of his jacket (his special leather jacket, covered in pins and patches) and held onto Frankie's hand with the other.

They stepped into the office and Max leaned on the desk a little. "Hey, we're here to get this one signed in for his first day?" He nodded at Blake.

The office clerk looked up. "Hm? Oh, yes, that's right. Um... give me one moment." 

She started pulling up what she could about him. The faked documents were similar to Max's, but with some altered grades here and there and updated school and teacher stuff. Frankie was wandering around the office while they waited, and Max tapped his fingers and hands on the desk a little.

After getting some last information, the office clerk explained to Blake who his teacher was and what room he would be in. She stood up to go show him to the room.

"Hold on- before we split. I just wanna double check that his name on all the school paperwork and attendance sheets and all that shit- it says Blake , right?" Max had definitely asked them to make sure everything said Blake and not the fake deadname, but he wanted to make sure.

"Yes, everything has been updated with his new name."

"Good. Thank you. Alright, let's go meet your teacher." Max knelt down to say bye to Frankie first. "[You go to class. Have a good day, jaanu. Fuck some shit up. I love you.]" They exchanged hugs and kisses and Frankie hurried off to her classroom.

Blake rolled his eyes at how sickly sweet that sounded to him right now.

The office clerk led them to the classroom. "And here you are, Blake. I hope you have a wonderful first day of school."

"I can meet his teacher real quick before I go, right?" Max asked.

"Uh, yes, of course."

"Awesome." He followed Blake in and glanced around for the teacher. She was at her desk correcting papers; some music was playing as she waited for the bell to signify time to get ready for kids to come in. Max walked over to the desk with his hands in his pockets. "Hey, you're Ms. Belmont, yeah? I'm Max, I'm Blake's... older brother."

She looked up, confused for a second before realizing what was going on. This was the new kid here and his guardian, right. "Oh, yes. Hello, it's so nice to meet you. This is for... Blake Kathari, right?"

"Kothari," Max corrected. "And yeah, that's him." He nodded toward Blake.

"Well, hello, Blake. It's good to meet you. If you need anything, feel free to come to me and ask."

Blake just rolled his eyes and mumbled angrily.

"Yeah, uh- go sit down, give us a minute." Max tapped Blake's head, lightly pushing him toward the desks. The teacher told him which desk was available for him, and once he left and sat down, Max leaned in to talk a little quieter. "So, uh- for your benefit, I figured I should warn you. Both of... my brothers are coming from a really fuc- messed up home life. He's gonna be difficult. He's a good kid, he's just... got some issues. We kinda all do."

"Any time there's a reason a kid needs to change schools in the middle of a school year, there's always some difficulty, so I was already preparing myself, but thank you for the heads up."

The door opened and a kid came in, heading toward a desk that had already been set up with a book and pencil case. The kid paused at seeing people not usually in at this time.

"Yeah, some..." Max mumbled. "Well, thanks. Just- be patient with him. Please," he added, almost as an after-thought. "Please" usually was an after-thought for him.

"...Ms. Belmont, is this person allowed at school?" The kid asked after a moment. Max glanced back toward her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, this is one of the parents of our newest student," the teacher explained.

"...But he's wearing a drug."

"...oh fuck- shit." Max groaned, covering his mouth for a second. "Sorry. This is why I make my husband do the talking whenever we're here. I forget half the shit- stuff that's on this jacket."

The kid gasped, and the teacher winced a little. 

"Well, it's not supposed to be at school, but he is only here for a moment, so we'll let it pass for right now." The teacher turned back to Max. "Thank you so much for coming in."

The kid frowned, not liking the whole "letting it pass" thing.

"Yeah, I should get out of here before any more kids show up." Max looked toward Blake. "[I'm not gonna tell you to behave, but just go easy on her, ok? At least for the first day.]"

"[Fuck off, I'll do what I want.]"

"[Fine, get detention, I don't fucking care,]" Max mumbled. "[You and Frankie are staying in the after-school program until 4:00, and then you're riding the bus home.]"

Blake rolled his eyes and pulled his backpack onto his desk to use as a pillow.

Class started soon enough, right at 8:00 am. The teacher tried to introduce Blake to the class, but she didn't get very far; Blake clearly wasn't having it, so she didn't push.

It hadn't even been an hour before shit happened.

"You can't have your hood up in class," the girl from earlier quietly informed Blake. He had been laying with his head on the desk and his hood over his hair.

"Fuck off," Blake mumbled, turning his head the other way. The girl's hand immediately shot up; Blake didn't notice, but he wouldn't have cared even if he had.

"Yes, Rebecca?"

"Blake's wearing a hood and said a bad word."

"Oh, so you're a fucking snitch," Blake complained.

"He just said it again."

"Thank you, Rebecca. Blake, please take off your hood and keep your language school appropriate."

"Make me."

"I'd rather have your first day at school be a good one, so please put your hood down and use our kind words."

"None of my words are kind," Blake deadpanned.

"We can try to stick to our neutral words, then," she tried. Blake rolled his eyes; that sounded like such lame bullshit. "So, can we try to have a good day today?"

"You can try all you want. There's no "we" bullshit."

"If you aren't going to take your hood down, I don't think either of us will have a good day."

"That sounds like a you problem." Blake leaned back and folded his arms.

"It's actually an us problem."

"You're the one that wants to "have a good day." I don't give a shit. I was having a bad day the second I got here."

"Well, then, this is your warning. If you don't start following the rules of the classroom, I'll have to give you lunch detention."

"Oh no, I'm so scared," Blake responded sarcastically. "It's a fucking hood, jesus christ. Get over it."

"You now have lunch detention."

"Cool, whatever."

"...And, if you don't take your hood off now, I'll be sending you to the office."

Blake rolled his eyes, stood up, and started to leave. "Cool, see ya."

"Rebecca, could you please make sure that Blake finds his way to the office? Oh, and let me send you two up with a note."

Blake groaned. Great, now the fucking snitch was babysitting him? The teacher quickly filled out an office slip and handed it to Rebecca.

"I'll hurry back," Rebecca said before heading for the door.

"Teacher's pet," Blake mumbled when she followed him out.

"That I am," Rebecca stated happily.

"That's not a compliment. Bootlickers are the fucking worst at any age."

"You're the one being punished for not doing what you're told. Besides, teachers are usually nice and easy to get along with."

"You can't trust adults in charge. They're all on some goddamn power trip. They don't care about us."

"Not true. Some teachers are a bit unreasonable or too lazy to do their job right, but many want to help kids where they can. It's a hard job, it doesn't pay well enough, and teachers don't have all that much control like some like to think."

"Bootlicker."

"Delinquent."

"Damn right. I'm a one-man hellraiser."

"Because you refused to take off your hood? That sounds like an embarrassing rule to break for a "hellraiser." No, a two-bit delinquent sounds a lot more accurate."

"It's only my first day. Fuck, man, you gotta learn the layout before you can start fucking around with it."

"Maybe you should have learned the layout before breaking the rules."

"I can do whatever the hell I want."

"Why want to go to the office?"

"Establishing the fact that I'm not a fucking pussy. I don't do what I'm told."

"That's stupid."

"I'm not a goddamn teacher's pet. No one is in charge of me, I do whatever the hell I want."

"Just because I follow rules doesn't mean people are in charge of me."

"That's exactly what that means."

"Then wouldn't that mean you're just as "constrained" as me since you feel the need to not follow rules?"

"That's fucking stupid. No, that's not how it works, dipshit."

"Well, if I'm doing what I want because I want to, I don't see how anyone is "in charge" of me."

"You want to follow the rules," Blake deadpanned. "God, that's lame as hell."

"Well, I surely don't want to get in trouble, and I'm not. Here's the office."

"Whatever. Now fuck off. I don't need a goddamn babysitter."

"I need to hand this in," Rebecca stated, heading to the receptionist. After handing in the note from their teacher, she started heading back. 

Blake rolled his eyes and sat down on one of the office chairs, pouting a little. After a moment, the receptionist got up and went to another office. She came back, sat down, and not long after a woman stepped out. 

"Blake?"

Blake sighed and stood up. "Let's get this over with."

He was led into a small office with some comfy chairs across from each other. Posters were tacked up on the walls- "You're safe to be yourself here", "Let's talk", pride posters, and more stuff like that.

Blake froze in the doorway. "Oh fuck no. Fuck this, fuck you, I'm not fucking talking to a goddamn school therapist."

"I can't make you talk. If you want to just sit here for a while, that's ok."

"Nuh-uh, fuck off." He folded his arm defensively. "I'm not staying in here. I don't do fucking therapy, or school counselors, or whatever the fuck you're calling it."

"Would you please take a seat?"

" No. "

"Then you can stand. If there's anything you want to do or talk about, let me know."

"I'm not saying shit."

"Ok, we can just coexist."

Blake just scoffed and rolled his eyes. After about ten silent minutes of him just standing and leaning against the door, he was finally over it. "Ugh, fuck this." He turned to open the door and leave.

"Blake, you're not free to leave yet."

"Like hell I'm not."

"What are you planning to do once you walk out?"

"None of your fucking business." Honestly, he would probably wander around the school and find the good hiding places.

"Why don't you want to talk with me?"

"I don't talk to shrinks."

"Why not?"

Flashbacks of the last time they made him talk to a school counselor- he actually told her , and she called CPS, and they didn't do shit, and dad wasn't happy .

"Why don't you mind your own goddamn business?"

"Because I want to see how you're doing. Moving to a new school is a big deal."

" My life isnt any of your fucking business. You don't need to know shit."

"Then maybe we can talk about the issue you were having in class."

Blake groaned. "Jesus christ. It's a fucking hood, she can get the hell over it."

"Why can't you? It's just a hood."

"Because she didn't need to make a fucking deal about it."

"It's in our dress code that you can't wear your hood up in doors."

"Then it's a stupid dress code."

"Have you asked why we have this in our dress code?"

"You're assuming I give a shit."

"Yes, you're right. So, why don't you care about the rules in place?"

"I'm not stupid. You're not gonna get me talking."

"I'm trying to help you so that you can have an easier time at school. I can only do that if you're willing to give me a chance, though."

"Well, I'm not. Fuck off."

"Alright. But if you won't take your hood off, things will get harder for you."

"Try me, bitch."

"I'm not doing anything. This was your teacher's attempt to keep you from getting in real trouble."

Blake rolled his eyes. "She'll have to try harder than this. 'Cause I don't talk to fucking shrinks."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, my door is open to you."

"Fuck. Off."

"I can show you back to your classroom," the councilor stated, standing up.

Blake stepped back a little. "Fuck off. I can find it myself."

"We're not supposed to let children wander the halls alone."

"I don't need a goddamn babysitter."

"Whether you need one or not doesn't change the rules we adults are supposed to follow."

Blake scowled, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Fuck you." He already had a plan in his mind, though, so he went with her... for now. He trailed behind her a little, and as soon as she wasn't looking back at him, he snuck off.

He ended up hiding in the empty teacher's lounge, shoving himself under a table in the corner and starting to shutdown and dissociate. He got left alone for about five minutes, before a guy came into the room. He was a squishier looking guy with some colorful buttons on his uniform. The sound of the door opening made Blake tense up and scoot further into the corner, but he was still not fully... aware.

It took him a little bit, but the guy finally spotted Blake. "There you are. What are you doing in here?" He asked, a light lisp to his voice.

Blake inhaled a bit sharply. Fuck, they saw him. Fuck fuck fuck.

"...Are you ok?"

He still wasn't very aware, but Blake could process that the guy didn't seem very... threatening, and he barely processed the words. He just couldn't respond; he only stared back at him.

"...Can you talk?"

...slowly, Blake shook his head. Not can't- won't, he told himself. It wasn't safe.

"Oh... Well, you need to go back to class…"

Blake tensed more, and tried to sit up and look angry. "...Fuck. Off."

"...That's not a word for school."

" Fuck off ," Blake repeated.

"...Come on. Where is your class?"

After a moment of Blake not moving, the guy sighed and stood back up, walking away a little. He pulled out his radio and called in that he had found the missing kid in the teacher's lounge.

Fuck fuck fuck! Blake's breathing picked up. They knew he was here. Shit shit shit.

Once done, the custodian knelt back down by the table. "...Do you want to hold Fluffy?"

...what the fuck is Fluffy? Blake still glared at him, but it looked more confused than angry.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stuffed cat.

Blake was almost tempted by the stuffed animal, but the offense that this guy thought he was that much of a baby outweighed how much he wanted the cat, so he just glared again and stayed in the corner.

"...Ok..." He put Fluffy back in his pocket.

Blake was stuck in the corner under the table until the guidance counselor showed up. He was not very happy to see her again.

"Blake," she sighed, a little exasperated. "Why did you run off?"

It had been long enough that he was at least somewhat more aware now. "Non'ya. Fuck off."

She raised an eyebrow at that, a little surprised at hearing "Non'ya." "Ok... So, are you going to talk with me, or go back to class?"

" No , I'm not."

"Blake... Do you want us to call home?"

"Try it, th-" ey won't care. Except- fuck, that wasn't true anymore. Would he actually get in trouble with Max? He was a pussy now though, like David…

"...Hey, you can tell me what's going on."

...shit. Fuck. This was new territory- he didn't know what to expect, and it was freaking him out a little. But he still wouldn't talk to her; even if she couldn't call CPS on him, nothing good could come from talking to a school counselor, right?

"...Do you want some time to calm down and think?"

"... yeah , just leave me alone, god."

"I'll give you five minutes and then come back and check on you, ok?"

"Fine, fuck, whatever."

Chapter Text

Max left back out to the car, where Bandit was still waiting in the passenger seat. "Alright, onto the high school."

Bandit had been staring out the window, watching people as he dissociated. Max glanced over and, after a minute, pulled out his pipe and a lighter. He'd only smoke a little. He knew he could drive while high, he had only promised Neil he wouldn't do it with Frankie in the car. Bandit looked over when the smell got stronger, and once he was done, Max offered it to him. 

"Want some?"

"Hell yeah." He reached for it. He had already smoked that morning, but he wasn't about to turn down free weed.

Max handed it off. "Ok, so this is gonna be the deal for being high at school. I know you can handle yourself. But if you get caught, you're in trouble. Because I have to seem like a responsible guardian, and I also don't wanna have to be leaving to pick you up because you got suspended. So don't get caught."

"Yeah yeah, I'm not a fucking noob at this."

"I know. I'm just setting the rules." 

Max started the car and opened the windows after he drove off the school property. Once Bandit was done, he set the stuff down and went back to staring out the window, dissociating with his high.

Soon enough, they pulled into the high school parking lot. "You ready?"

"...no."

"Actually no, or are you just being stubborn?"

"...I'm not sure…"

Max softened a little. "Alright. We'll sit here for five minutes, and then we're gonna go in, ok?"

Bandit looked over at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. We have time. I don't think your first class starts until 8:30."

He looked at the car clock. 8:13. "Oh… Ok." He looked back out the window, now trying to think a little.

Max sat back, scrolling on his phone for a bit, then remembering the jacket he was wearing and deciding to take it off and leave it in the car. After a few minutes, Bandit took a deep breath, trying to work up for this. Once it hit 5 minutes, Max sighed and sat up. 

"Alright, let's do this."

"...Yeah, ok." Bandit grabbed his backpack and hesitantly opened the door.

Max sprayed something to cover up the smell of weed on them and they headed inside. Bandit kept his head down as they did so, still not fully ready to be around his peers.

They stepped into the office first. "Hey, we're here to get his schedule for his first day."

This office clerk sounded a little less enthused. "Name?"

"Bandit Kothari."

They typed in the computer for a second before standing up and going over to a copier. They pulled out a paper and handed it over to Max.

"Thanks." Max handed it to Bandit. "Is there like, a map or something?"

They sighed and started typing on the computer again.

"[They're kind of a bitch, huh?]" Max mumbled, leaning over to look at Bandit's schedule.

"[Yeah, she is.... Like, what the fuck?]" There was no real animosity behind it.

"[They. Pronoun pin.]"

"Oh."

The clerk stood up and grabbed another paper from the copier then handed it over.

"Thanks." Max passed it to Bandit. "Alright. I don't wanna embarrass you or anything, so I'm just gonna let you walk to your first class. Go easy on 'em for your first day, ok?"

He looked between his papers. "...If I'm late they can [fuck] off."

"Just don't make me have to pick you up. I don't wanna have to pick you and Blake up on the same days. And you're taking the bus home; Blake and Frankie are gonna be home after 4:00 when I get home."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll do my best or something."

"Thank you. [Go fuck some shit up.] I'll see ya later."

Bandit's morning went relatively uneventful. He stayed quiet, ignored most of the teachers and his peers. He just wanted to get through the day and get the hell out of there.

He had gym class right before lunch. He always hated gym class; he hated having to wear gym uniforms and changing in the locker rooms (even with the few teachers that did let him use the boys' locker room, he hated it). His arms were too exposed and he wasn't supposed to exercise with his binder on, but he wasn't taking his binder off in public, so his chest always hurt too much.

He collected his new gym uniform from the teacher and changed in one of the bathroom stalls in the boys' locker room. He was too distracted with worrying about his arms being exposed to notice one of the other boys watching him.

They did warm-ups out in the gym before they got separated into teams for whatever stupid game they were playing that day. Bandit anxiously fixed his gym shirt; it was just a bit too big, and kept sliding off his shoulder. Now he was worrying about someone spotting his binder.

The teacher was distracted with talking with a kid on the other team. The boy that had been watching him in the locker room slid up beside him.

"So, what are you hiding?"

Bandit tensed a little and eyed the guy angrily. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're either too good to change with the rest of us, or you're hiding something, and you're clearly not that good."

Bandit glared at him. "What, you wanna see my ass that bad? Are you fucking gay or something?"

The boy went to shove him. Bandit managed to quickly step out of the way and to the guy's side, shoving into him and knocking him to the ground. The guy blinked, baffled that things hadn't gone the way he had planned. He quickly stood up and went to charge Bandit. He got caught by that one, but managed to dig his feet into the floor and keep them both standing. Not quite instinctively, but knowing it was something that worked because he'd had it done to him too many times he grabbed a handful of the guy's hair and yanked down as hard as possible.

Kids were starting to notice and circle them, chanting "Fight fight fight!" and cheering them on.

The guy shoved him away, hands pushing hard into his chest, his hair getting yanked harder in the process, but with the hair being short, there wasn't much to grip.

The teacher noticed the chanting and scrambled over to intervene. He had to get through the crowd first.

Bandit stumbled back a little, losing his hold on the guy's hair. His chest stung and he screwed his eyes shut, coughing a little. Shit. His chest was already too sensitive from wearing his binder too much.

"Everyone, stand against the wall!" The teacher demanded.

The crowd was slow to disperse, but eventually most of the class was against the wall, leaving Bandit, the other student, and a couple of stragglers out in the middle of the gym.

"Both of you, office, now," the teacher ordered.

Bandit scowled, glaring over at the other kid. "... fine ."

The boy rolled his eyes and started heading to the office. Bandit followed a couple paces behind him, feeling very uncomfortable without a hoodie pocket to rest his hands in. Before they could get out of the door, the teacher sent a jock to escort them and make sure they didn't end up fighting again.

When they reached the main office, the clerk told both of them to head into the principal's office. They sat down in the chairs in front of the desk. Bandit leaned away from the other kid, folding his arms.

The principal regarded them for a moment. "Explain what happened."

"He wasn't minding his fucking business," Bandit snapped.

"He was being homophobic," the guy stated confidently, sure that he'd get off if he painted the new kid as worse than him.

"Dipshit. You got your ass beat by a faggot. You're the one that got pissy about being seen as gay."

"Woah, we do not allow that kind of language in school," the principal quickly interrupted.

"Whatever," Bandit mumbled.

"Now, Keith, you've been in too many fights. Go grab your things and come back to the office. You're suspended for a week. You, um... It's Bandit, right?"

"...yeah, Bandit."

"Watch your language, and go back to class."

...seriously? That was it? Bandit was a little shocked. "Uh... sure, ok..." 

He stood up and slowly started to leave. When he got back to class, he ended up hearing from the other students that the boy got into fights a lot. Bandit guessed that the principal had given him the benefit of the doubt, but it still felt weird to have gotten out of trouble so easily.

At dinner that night, Neil was asking about how everyone's days went. Max's had been fine- he had a Karen customer story, but nothing too exciting. Then Neil asked Bandit, who poked at his food for a moment.

"...I got into a fight with some kid for not minding his own business."

Neil sighed, "Of course. How much trouble are you in?"

"...none, actually? They just... let me go. They suspended him, I guess he gets into fights a lot? But they just sent me back to class."

"Huh. Well hey, good for you," Max said. "What was he being nosy about?"

Bandit scowled. "He was giving me shit about "hiding something" because I changed in the bathroom stalls in gym."

Neil made the connection immediately. "Oh... Are you doing ok?"

"I'm fine ," Bandit insisted. "He'll probably give me shit when he's back from suspension, but that's not for like, a week."

"If he does give you shit and they don't do anything about it, let me know," Max said. "I'll raise hell."

"I just wanted to make sure," Neil clarified. "If he continues to be a problem, let us know."

"...right. Yeah." Shit. He still wasn't used to them actually caring. It was weird.

"What about you, kid?" Max asked Blake next. "Anything happen for your first day?"

He tensed up. He had been staying quiet, hoping they would be distracted with Bandit's shit. "No," he lied.

Max could tell he was lying, but he didn't want to force him to talk. "Mm, that's surprising. Considering who we are, y'know." He just shrugged.

"Fuck off."

"I don't believe that for a second." Bandit rolled his eyes.

"Well duh, neither did I, but he doesn't have to talk about it if he doesn't want to."

Blake stabbed some of his food and ate it angrily, not liking this situation one bit.

"Alright. Frankie, [your turn,] jaanu."

With that, Blake relaxed a bit and went back to poking at his food, not really hungry now. Frankie went on a little ramble about her day; she liked to talk, so even if nothing really exciting happened, she talked about everything.

Chapter Text

Blake had his hood up again as he entered the classroom the next morning. He wasn't planning on making a big deal about it this time- he wanted to avoid the counselor's office- but it was cold that morning. 

As he walked by, some kid reached up and yanked his hood off. It immediately sent Blake into a panic; it was too uncomfortably familiar. Instinctively, he turned and kicked as hard as he could in the direction of whoever was holding his hood.

"Ow!" The kid yelped.

Blake was breathing heavily as he spun around to see who had grabbed him- and then he quickly covered his fear with anger. "Hey! What's your fucking problem?!"

The teacher was over quickly. "What's going on?"

"He kicked me!"

"He grabbed my hood!"

"Ok... You need to keep your hands to yourself," the teacher told the other kid, "and you need to refrain from kicking people."

"He shouldn't have fucking grabbed me!" Blake's hands were balled up into fists at his side, an attempt to keep them from visibly shaking.

"Yes, he shouldn't have, and if he does it again, he will be given more than a warning," the teacher assured. "I cannot have you kicking others, though." Blake scowled, his breathing getting a little shakier as the adrenaline wore off. "Now, please take your seat."

Blake did so, still breathing heavily, but starting to calm back down.

At around 5:30 that evening, Max got a phone call.

He was sitting in the living room while Frankie watched TV and Bandit and Blake were also hanging out. He answered when it rang, turning the TV down a little. 

"Hello?"

Frankie whined a bit at the TV going quiet.

"[Just for a minute, jaanu. I got a phone call.]"

"Hello, is this one of Blake's dads?"

"This is his brother, but we're his legal guardians."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot about that. This is his teacher."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I was just wanting to ask how Blake is doing and if you know how I might be able to work with him a little better."

Blake recognized her voice on the phone and could pick out some words, mainly his name. Fuck.

"Mm." Max sat for a minute, then stood up and went around the corner into the hallway. He figured it should have probably been a private conversation, right? He did nod for Blake to follow him if he wanted to, though. "He's doing fine here. Has anything happened that's making you ask?"

"Well, he's been having a tough time following directions and filtering his language at school, and yesterday he ended up running away from the school counselor and had to be found."

Max blinked and frowned. "I'm sorry- what was he doing with the school counselor?"

"He wouldn't put his hood down in class, and after getting lunch detention, continued to not follow school rules. I figured that since it was his first day, I'd send him to see the school counselor so that she could provide more understanding instruction than the vice principal."

Max sighed a little, rubbing at his eyes. "Ok- it's a good try, I get you're trying to do your job, but I don't appreciate him being "sent" to the school counselor without his permission. Therapy for a kid with trauma is really fucking delicate, and I doubt a school-sanctioned therapist has any of the proper training or resources for it."

"Ok, I can understand that. Do you have any advice for me when it comes to Blake, then? I don't want school to be a constant battle if we can prevent it from becoming that."

Max hesitated a bit more. "...honestly, there's not a damn thing on Earth that could get him to stop swearing. And I feel like all the stuff we do to work with him isn't gonna work for school."

"That's going to make things a lot more difficult…"

"Yeah, sometimes things are difficult. I mean- if you can just go easy on things that aren't hurting anyone, I guess. And we're... gonna try and get him to talk to a therapist."

"Thank you. The problem is we can't allow bad language for the sake of other kids and parents. All of the rules I'm trying to make him follow are either for the parents or for our school's safety."

"Even the hood thing? Really? I never got that."

"It's for safety in the halls so that everyone can be identified on the cameras. In class, it's so we can make sure you're paying attention, and I'd rather be able to see if a kid is sleeping in class, at the very least to know what they'll need help with later on."

"Mm." He wasn't really a huge fan of the cameras thing. "...I'll try to talk to him. But it might just be difficult for a while. Sorry."

"I understand. I wanted to call you because you know him better than I do."

"Yeah... definitely." Max fidgeted with his gauge a little. "For now, just- you can try doing detentions, but he's not gonna give a shit. If you really need to get him out of the classroom, let him go hide in the library or something."

"This is an elementary school. We can't let kids go unsupervised… But I could send him to the school counselor with a note to let him have some time to himself."

"No school counselor," Max said firmly.

"Yes, I understand that. I meant more as a place he can still be supervised. I will tell her not to counsel him, just make sure he's not wandering around campus."

Max was quiet for a minute. "...maybe. I'll let him know that. And don't send him to her without telling him, even if she's not counseling him."

"Ok, I can do that. If you could send me a text on if he's ok with that, I'd be grateful."

"Yeah, I'll do that. ...thanks, for... trying to work with us. It's just- it's gonna be difficult for a while."

"I wouldn't expect any less. Anytime a child is moved into a new home, it's a hard situation, and the cause of it was likely worse."

"...yeah. You could say that."

"If you have any advice to send me, please do. I want to help make this transition easier if I can."

"I'll send you whatever I can think of." 

They hung up soon after, and Max went to talk to Blake, only to find that he had snuck off and probably hidden somewhere. Max knew the good hiding spots to check, so he found him pretty much right away. Once he did, though, he backed off and gave Blake the chance to close the hiding spot back up if he wanted to. Now it didn't matter, though; he'd been found. He stared at Max warily.

Max stayed stood back, keeping his hands up by his head. "You're not in trouble, I promise. We just gotta talk."

He didn't move, debating on if he felt better in the small place, or if he should go out in the open where he could run.

Max, after a minute, said, "I'm gonna step out and give you five minutes, ok? And then I'm gonna come back in and we'll talk."

Again with the "wait for five minutes" shit... "...Fine…"

Max stepped out of the room. Blake stayed still, calming down for the first three minutes, and trying to understand things for the next two. By the time Max came back in, Blake was still in his hiding spot, but he looked more relaxed than hiding.

"You ready to talk now?" Max asked gently, hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, sure…"

Max nodded and sat down on the floor, still giving Blake some space. "So. That was your teacher, who just called."

"Fucking figured that out already…"

"Cool. Any idea what she was calling about?"

Blake went quiet, not liking this shit. He clearly knew but was just trying to catch him in a lie or make him give up more information.

"...she told me about yesterday. That she sent you to the school counselor. And I made sure she knew I don't want her doing that again."

"...good…"

"Yeah. I don't remember why we had therapy trauma, but I know it was bad. Especially with school therapists."

"...Therapy trauma?"

"Trauma about therapy. Hell, it took Neil like, five years to finally convince me to try therapy. I don't even remember why I was so against it."

"Because you can't fucking trust anyone."

"Right, that was my mindset..." Max mumbled, almost to himself. "...but I know it's not true now."

Blake rolled his eyes. "You've been delusioned."

"I haven't. I know I can trust Neil, and David and Gwen, and our friends from camp. Because they've proven that I can trust them. And so has my therapist; I've been talking to him for almost 10 years now. He hasn't done anything to prove I can't trust him."

"Just because you give him your check."

"I mean- yeah, it's part of his job. But he's still a person, too."

"People fuck you over eventually."

"Not always. But I won't get into that conversation with you right now. The point is- you're not gonna be seeing the school counselor anymore unless you want to. Even if that's never, that's fine."

"Sure it is," Blake said, rolling his eyes.

"It is. But," Max tapped his fingers on his leg, "your teacher doesn't just wanna let you disrupt class. And that's her job, so I can't really do shit about it. We had a plan, though, if you'll work with us."

Blake was quiet, not wanting to say something that would get him hurt, but also not wanting to work with anyone at the moment. Max gave him a few minutes, not wanting to overwhelm him by moving too fast. Unfortunately, Blake hated that so much more. It felt like he was being forced to speak, which felt like he was being forced into a situation he'd get in trouble for. He was starting to dissociate, since clearly there was no safe way out of this situation.

...shit. Max noticed, and that wasn't what he was going for. "Hey- you're not gonna get in trouble for anything, ok? I promise. If you wanna say no, that's fine." 

Blake didn't respond, just waiting for when Max finally lashed out.

"...fuck," Max mumbled to himself, then winced. "Sorry. That's not- you're not in trouble. I'm just... gonna let you have some time, ok?" 

He didn't wait for a response, just stood up and left. He didn't close the door all the way- so Blake knew it wasn't locked. He left a snack and some water just inside the door, then left the room (and Blake) alone.

It took about fifteen minutes before Blake started coming out of it and moving out of his hiding spot. He found the water and snack, hesitated, and then sat down on the floor to drink and eat. Once he finished, after a few minutes, he finally got up and wandered back out to the living room. They were still all hanging out, and Bandit eyed Blake when he walked in.

Blake hesitated at feeling eyes on him, but soon continued going back to where he had been sitting before, trying to act like nothing just happened.

Max nodded at him and sat up a little. "Hey, how ya feeling?"

He shrank the littlest bit. "...Fine."

Max nodded again. "That's good. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Yeah... sure...."

"God you're fucking lame," Bandit mumbled.

"Shut up," Max responded, though not aggressively, then turned back to Blake. "So. No matter how you answer this, you're not in trouble, ok? Would you rather talk now or wait until after dinner? Either way, we do have to talk tonight."

Blake was tense, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to talk about it. He just wanted it to go away.

"...can you tell me what you're thinking right now?" Max asked after a minute. "If you feel comfortable doing that?"

"...I don't want to talk about it..."

Max nodded a little. "I get that. And it's ok to not want to. But we gotta do it anyway. You're not in trouble or anything, we wanna work with you. I promise." 

Blake was still pretty tense. He didn't believe that. It couldn't be true, clearly. They just wanted to get him to drop his guard so it hurt worse.

"...let's wait until after dinner, ok? And if you work with me, I'll let you have a beer. Or some weed. One of 'em."

"...seriously?"

"Mm-hm." Max smiled a little.

"...Fine." Blake was still tense.

"Thank you. We can still wait until after dinner."

Chapter Text

After dinner, Max decided for them to sit out on the patio for some privacy. Blake still wasn't 100% comfortable, and he was deciding if jumping off the patio was better than trying to forcefully dissociate or be too aware if things went wrong. Max could notice, and he really wanted to keep the conversation easy enough for him, but... it had to happen. 

"So like we already said- that phone call earlier was your teacher. She didn't say you were in trouble, but she was actually calling for advice on how to work with you. She told me she sent you to the guidance counselor yesterday, and I told her I absolutely don't want that happening again."

"...You... already said all that."

"...fuck, did I?" Max frowned a little, then shrugged. "Well, it's good to recap anyway, I guess. I uh- I know there can be some memory loss around dissociation." Blake rolled his eyes. "But she wanted to know how to work with you. Y'know, "make class easier" for both of you."

"Sure she does. That's what they always want," Blake said sarcastically.

"Yeah, well. I told her there's probably no chance of that. So when you're being a little shit and she needs to get you out of the classroom, she said something about sending you to the counselor's office. Not to talk, but just to get out of the classroom."

"It's probably just a trap," he mumbled.

"And if it is, you tell me and I go raise hell about her lying to me. Because I don't tolerate that shit." Blake shifted uncomfortably. They shouldn't have still been just talking.... It felt wrong. Max softened a little. "I'm serious. Blake, I- we are not our parents. I care about you. It's taking some getting used to, but you're my kid now. I'm on your side."

"...You're just another adult now."

"Yeah, I'm an adult. That's how aging works. But I'm not a shitty abusive adult. I worked so fucking hard to make sure I didn't turn into our parents."

"Sooner or later you'll break."

"Not if I have shit to say about it."

Blake huffed and looked away. The fact that he was taking his eyes off of Max was a good sign, though.

"Hey, I'm not gonna lie to you- you and Bandit are difficult. We're all a bunch of shits, and I barely tolerate myself already. But I'm not lazy like our parents were. I'm not gonna take the easy way out and start beating you guys, because I'm fucking better than they were. And I care about both of you; you deserve better than what you've already gone through."

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it."

" I know it's not-" Max paused for a moment. "...Why is it bullshit?"

"Where do I fucking start? We're fucking assholes that don't give a shit to pussies that won't do shit. The only time we're actually comfortable is when we have full fucking control, which none of us have right now. And, in case you forgot, me and Bandit were never actually abused. We come from nothing and we deserve nothing."

"Your minds don't know the difference. You have all the memories and emotions of being abused, so you pretty much have been actually abused. And even if that wasn't true, you still deserve good lives now that you exist." Max went quiet for a moment to think about the rest of that. "And... yeah, I'll be honest, I still wanna be in control most of the time. I'm the manager at work, and Neil is... still basically my lapdog. But there's balance and shit. I'm working really hard to make sure I'm not acting like dad. I've done a lot of fucking therapy about that."

"As much as you want to be David, you're not. We aren't pushovers, you will break."

"I'm not a pushover either, y'little punk." It wasn't said maliciously.

"You're sure fucking acting like one!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Blake said resolutely, anticipating a slap or something.

"How?"

Blake steeled himself. "You're. Not. Hitting. Me."

Max leaned in a little. "And that's exactly why I'm not a goddamn pushover."

With Max leaning in, and the statement just further pointing out that Blake had no control of the situation, that his expectations were continuously not being met... he snapped first and swung at the adult in front of him.

"OW! Fuck!" Max recoiled, holding his nose, and... honestly, yes, he did almost react. He almost hit back. He had never reacted well with physical violence or injury. But he stopped himself, stepping away a little and pulling his hand back to see the blood. "Shit."

Blake was a bit terrified; he hadn't even thought and now Max was bleeding because of him, and it was sure to happen now but not in the way he had planned at all and how bad was it going to be now? He was frozen, just staring at the proof of what he'd done dripping down Max's face.

Max closed his eyes, taking a couple deep breaths through his mouth. "Do you know where the first aid kit is?" He kept his eyes closed.

Blake didn't respond, still in too much shock and too much fear to respond. He was very overwhelmed. Max realized that when he didn't say anything, so he just stepped around him and went inside to find it himself.

Bandit sat up on the couch when he saw the blood. "Holy fuck, what the hell happened?"

Neil had already been in the process of leaving the dishes (turning water off, setting things down where they wouldn’t fall and break, etc) and turning around to go check on things when he heard Bandit. That made his calming thoughts of  "probably a stubbed toe" or other less meaningful injuries fly out. 

"Max?! Are you ok? Do you need first aid?"

"Yeah, first aid," Max confirmed. He was holding his shirt over his nose, but it was still bleeding through.

Neil immediately grabbed the closest first aid kit and rushed to help Max. "What happened? How much does it hurt?"

Max sat down at the table, letting him look it over. "Blake punched me. It fucking hurts."

Neil blinked, not expecting that, but... it did make some sense. Max had been pretty volatile at that age. He quickly returned to his duty of helping stop the flow of blood to help a scab form inside the nostrils. "Ok... do you remember hearing a crack?"

"No, he didn't break it. It's just bleeding really bad."

"Holy shit. That's one hell of a punch." Bandit had walked over to see, too.

"I know, right? Kinda impressive."

Neil opened his mouth, paused, and sighed. It was probably for the best that Max was impressed, though that behavior shouldn't have been encouraged. "Why did he do it?"

"I think he was waiting for me to do it first, and he just got sick of waiting.

"Oh," Neil said. It was pretty even, much like if someone had explained that they were drinking water because the milk went bad, but he felt sad for the kid to be that afraid. Even with knowing what Max had gone through, seeing the results of gentle parenting for his younger self made it feel even more real than before.

"Mm-hm."

Bandit understood that a bit better than Max did now. He was more used to fights not starting, because of David and Gwen, but the adjustment here had been weird for him, too. Especially since Max and Neil were more permanent parental figures now than David and Gwen had been so far; he kept waiting for them to start getting aggressive, too.

"Well... I'm not seeing any bruising or swelling yet... That's a good sign. I know you said it's not broken, but it's better safe to check anyway than not to."

"Yeah yeah, do all your nerd healthcare shit," Max said, almost affectionately. "You're always making sure I'm not dying."

Blake hesitantly moved to peek through the door, still not sure why he wasn't sore all over from Max losing it.

"You're certainly not dying from a mere nosebleed. It's possible to, but virtually never happens."

"It's so cute when you're so literal about shit."

'We have more pressing matters right now than how cute you think I am."

Max rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, whatever."

Blake stared in both wonder and confusion. They weren't acting like it was a big deal. He couldn't really get away with that, right?

"...he really punched you? And you're not doing shit about it?" Bandit asked.

"What, hit him to teach him not to hit? That's hypocritical. We'll... figure something out, but I'm not gonna beat him for a fucking trauma response. I'm not our dad."

"You're soft."

"I'm not a pussy who feels the need to beat children because they're more in control of my emotions than I am."

"There's a fear of doing violence, and that's not what Max has. He's absolutely fine with harming people who deserve it. He has great strength in withholding violence," Neil explained.

Bandit scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"Which is how you two aren't able to push me that far. I'm not a pushover; you're not in control of my emotions, I am."

Blake had no idea what to do now. Normally after fucking up, he would hide in his room or run away, but Max had had every opportunity to punish him already… Besides, to even get anywhere, he'd have to go inside past them.

"That sounds like shit Nurf would say."

"Probably. It's shit my therapists worked on."

"Nurf is smarter than he looks," Neil stated. "Now, let's see if it's stopped yet."

Max pulled back the tissue over his nose to check the bleeding. It was still bleeding, but it had definitely slowed a bit. Neil handed him a replacement to soak up the blood. Max held it up to his nose. "...I should teach you guys how to throw a punch," he said after a moment, almost absentmindedly. 

Neil blinked. "Fuck, you're right. Blake, did you hurt yourself?"

Blake quickly closed the door, not at all ready to be acknowledged.

Max winced a little. "Ah shit. I wasn't even thinking about that. We probably should make sure he's not hurt... But he's not gonna talk to us. We're the adults."

"...I could... try..." Bandit mumbled a little.

"If you're ok with that," Neil said. "Otherwise I'll go out and do it."

Bandit rolled his eyes. "You're an adult too, dipshit. You're a pussy, but so is he," he motioned to Max, "and you're both still adults."

"Yes, but I don't want to force you even if you are the better option. If you are willing to go out and make sure his hands are ok, please do so now."

"Yeah, whatever," Bandit mumbled again and stepped out onto the patio. He shoved his hands in his pocket and shuffled a little. "...so, um... are you good?"

"...The fuck you out here for?"

"Making sure you didn't break a finger or whatever the hell."

"...Seriously?"

"Yeah." Bandit huffed a little. "Neil's all worried about it."

"...I'm fine…"

"Awesome. ...I can't believe you punched him, man. Holy shit." Blake swallowed and didn't respond. He was still surprised himself. "And you're getting away with it! He's not doing shit about it!"

"...how?"

"You know he's a pussy now, man. He's saying shit about "being in control of his emotions" or whatever the fuck."

"...it doesn't make sense…"

"...he's just David now, I guess." Bandit shrugged a little.

"He's... he's just faking it…"

"...we are pretty good at faking shit... But I feel like I'm pretty good at figuring out when people are faking shit, too. And he seems... like, genuine."

"He can't be genuine... We're not like that…"

"... we're not," Bandit mumbled, sliding down to sit against the glass door. "But the longer we're... here, the more I can believe how we turned into him."

"There's no way we could become so fucking stupid."

"I'm frying my brain enough, I don't completely doubt it." Blake looked at his hands, still finding it too hard to believe. "...I dunno. It's weird. He's obviously still violent, they both talk all the time about how he punches assholes. And he wanted to teach us how to throw a punch. But he just won't hit us ."

"Exactly, he's not David... He's a fucking asshole, like us…"

"...I think I've... gotten a lot better at not being an asshole to people I like... Like Neil and Nikki…"

"Just because you've gotten better at hiding it doesn't mean shit."

Bandit frowned, looking down at his lap. "...right, yeah… I'm still a pretty shitty person…"

"He... Why didn't he break…?"

"...I don't know."

"...What will it take?"

"I dunno. You fucking punched him and he didn't do shit about it. I think it's gonna take a lot."

"...Do I have to start breaking shit?"

"They don't really seem to care about that. Frankie broke a cup the other day and they just... cleaned it up. ...they get pissed when you're mean to her, though."

"Yeah, but bullying a kid that fucking young is beneath me…"

"Yeah... She's not a bad kid. She kinda reminds me of Oscar."

"That's Gwen and David's kid, right? That feels weird to say."

"Uh-huh. And yeah, it still does."

"Well, besides... She's just a naïve toddler, pretty much…"

"...she's older than we were," Bandit mumbled. "When dad started…"

"That's why she's like a naïve toddler."

"...mm-hm." Bandit was jealous, again.

Neil was awake first the next morning to make breakfast. Blake hadn't slept too well that night, and when he heard Neil up and walking around, he was quickly aware of his surroundings. Even after they went inside last night, there hadn't been any consequences from Max or Neil, but Blake was still on edge.

While he was cooking, Neil asked Frankie to go wake her papa up for breakfast. Frankie nodded and ran off to do so.

Max had already been awake for a few minutes, but he hadn't really moved or gotten up. He had been... thinking. A little too much.

Frankie ran up to the edge of the bed. "Papa! Papa! Wake up!"

Max jumped a little, then sighed and rolled over to see her. "Hey, jaanu." She began climbing onto the bed to hug him, and Max hugged her back. "Mm... Is it time to get up already?"

"Yeah, that's what Daddy said."

"Ok... Can you do me a favor?"

"Mmhm!"

"Go let Daddy know that I woke up sad, ok?"

"Oh." After a short moment of thinking, Frankie gave him another hug, as tight as she could give it, before heading off to do that.

Max appreciated it, and hugged her back just as tightly. "Thank you, jaanu."

"Love you, Papa!" She ran off.

Neil looked over when she ran back out. "Hey, is Papa awake now?"

"Yeah, but he woke up sad."

"...oh. Ok, um- thank you for letting me know." Neil set out her plate for breakfast. "I'll go talk with him, ok? You can start eating."

"Thanks, Daddy!" Frankie was quick to sit down and start eating.

"He woke up sad? " Bandit repeated, thinking it sounded a little stupid.

"Meaning he's... having a small depressive episode," Neil said quietly.

"Papa has a sadness disorder," Frankie said helpfully.

Bandit rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, we're all depressed. But we're not being pussies about it."

Frankie made a face. "A real pussy is too afraid to show their feelings." She was definitely repeating that from someone.

"Sometimes we're more sad than usual, and that's ok," Neil affirmed before leaving to check on Max.

"I can't believe we're stuck in this house of fucking losers," Blake grumbled.

Max rolled over again when Neil entered the room, but he didn't sit up very much. Neil went over to the bed and sat down by him. "So... do you need a distraction or to talk?"

Max was quiet for a minute. "...talk, I think. I'm still fucking them up."

"What do you mean?"

"Bandit and Blake. I'm still- fuck. I seriously almost hit him yesterday. And I'm terrified about it. I'm fucking them up."

Blake snuck up close to the bedroom door and stayed just out of sight. 

"Well, I wouldn't say you are. They're already fucked up. They're testing you, and you were able to get under David's skin that first year a bit, so I'm not surprised Blake's the one going hardest at that. You got hit, and nearly reacted in self defense, but you still held back, and I'm really proud of you for that."

"I shouldn't have even thought about hitting him. Shit. Am I gonna end up like him because of them? Fuck . Frankie is so much easier than I was as a kid, maybe that's why I haven't turned into him yet."

"You aren't him. Fuck, if you were him, Blake would probably be at the hospital right now. The fact you don't want to hurt them is already proof enough that you are not him. Remember what Nurf said about how... the first thought you have is what you were first taught and then it's the thoughts after that really show who you are?"

"...yeah…"

"Besides, Frankie is only easy because she's being raised easy. I doubt she'd be so easy if we weren't doing things as well as we are."

Max sighed a little. "Yeah... I guess so…"

Blake rolled his eyes. It sounded like a load of bullshit so far, mostly because he came back there already expecting bullshit.

"You had a hard childhood, and so you grew hard to try and handle it. You've been growing soft though. Like, you've gotten better, not like- You know what I mean. But you still have that past, and right now, we have two kids from that life here, and you've been managing really well in returning their hardness with softness... Fuck, is this metaphor still working?"

"No, now I'm just thinking about dicks." Max smiled a little, almost laughing. "I get it, though. They're just... difficult. ...but I haven't snapped yet... I'm doing really good."

Blake gagged. Nope. That was too much. Now it was just getting gross. He began backing out.

"You really are. It's ok to have bad thoughts. The telling point is that you don't act on them."

"...right. Yeah." Max sighed. "Thanks."

"You don't have to thank me for this," Neil said softly.

"I barely say thank you already and you're gonna go with that bullshit when I do?" Max teased a little.

"Not when it comes to something like this. I'm always here for you when you need a little help with your thoughts, and I don't need gratitude for it."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Can you grab my meds for me? I'm gonna stay in bed until they kick in."

"Yeah. I can do that. Do you want me to stay in here with you while they do?"

"Nah, go eat. I'll try to be out before you leave."

"Ok." Neil leaned over to give him a kiss.

Bandit looked up when Blake came back out to the living room. "So? What were they saying?"

"Stupid sappy 'it's good you're a wuss' shit. I left when it started getting too gross."

"Too gross?"

"Too gross," Blake said curtly.

"Ok...? Whatever. Nothing good then, I guess?"

"Stupid adult stuff."

"Boring."

Chapter Text

Bandit approached Max and Neil one evening, hands in his pockets. "So, uh... I wanna... talk to... someone about starting testosterone."

"Really? That's great," Neil said.

"Yeah, we can do that, no problem."

"But I'm not, like, actually talking to a fucking shrink. I'm just saying enough to get T."

"Well... you have two options, then…" Neil began. "We can either find a therapist here that specializes in transgender minors, where you have to convince them you're trans, or we can get you connected to a therapist that actually knows what's going on."

"...what do you mean, knows what's going on?" Bandit eyed him.

"Harrison's therapist knows the whole magic situation," Max explained. "She knows his magic is real, she knows he has a magic daughter, she knows his magic daughter made you guys with magic. The whole thing. So she knows that you would be a young me. And clearly I'm transgender. So you wouldn't have to convince her that you're trans."

"Exactly," Neil agreed, unable to hide the roll of his eyes upon thinking too much about Harrison's magic.

"Ugh. I don't really wanna talk to Harrison's therapist."

"The other easy option could be mine. I told him about the situation, and he's the one that got me my T."

"Yes, that's another option."

"...I don't have to actually talk to him?" Bandit asked again.

"No. Just tell him about the dysphoria and let him figure out the letter."

"If you want to talk to him, you can, and he already knows how Max works and where Max comes from, so you'd have a lot less you'd have to say if you want to try it out, but it's entirely up to you."

"I'm not talking to a shrink." Bandit scowled.

"That's fine. You don't have to. It would help, and y'know, they can't get you in trouble for anything you say... Like, legally. But you don't have to."

"I was just explaining why he might be easier to talk to than others, but I'm not trying to push you into it."

"...good. I just wanna start T. I'm fucking sick of people thinking I'm a girl."

"Alright. We'll make it happen."

They set the appointment for the next week, and when it came time for the virtual call, Bandit sat at the laptop in Max and Neil's room for some privacy.

The therapist joined the telehealth meeting three minutes late. "Ah, hello, there."

Bandit already didn't like it. "Hi." His arms were folded, and he was sitting back away from the camera.

"...Shit, you really do look like him."

Bandit rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no shit. I fucking am."

"Look, I wasn't fully convinced that the shit I was told was actually real yet."

"...yeah, Harrison's magic is fucking stupid... But it's real."

"Clearly. You really do look too much like him and with him never mentioning you guys before... Yep, that's- I can't doubt it anymore."

"Mm-hm." Bandit shifted a little. "...so... what do I have to say to get testosterone?"

"Um... I mean... You're practically Max, right?"

"I am Max. ...I guess. Except I had to change my name."

"Well, yes... So, um... Mainly I just have to fill out some questions after I'm convinced, and that's... enough for me. Uh... how long do you remember feeling dysphoria?"

"I don't remember in general," Bandit said, almost snarkily. 

(If he had been more aware that that was a symptom of childhood abuse, he wouldn't have shared that.)

"I understand that, but you are younger than the Max I'm used to, so I still feel I needed to check just in case. So I'll put for as long as you can remember."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"At this time, how extreme would you describe your dysphoria as?"

"Fuck. Pretty extreme, I guess."

"If you could provide a little more detail, just so we can make this sound more normal for me giving you more... typical therapy, that would help out."

"Shit. I wanna kill myself over it, is that good enough?"

"Yep. That's what I needed to hear." He wrote some stuff down. Bandit didn't like it. That was too much he had to share. "Ok, since you are a minor, I'll have to technically see you a few times before we can take further steps. I'm thinking two more meetings, but due to the situation, we'll basically just have you in a video call. If you want to talk about anything, feel free to, but we can just sit in silence, or work on homework; whatever you feel comfortable with. We do still have 50 minutes we're supposed to be talking here, and I'll let you choose what you want to do. All we have to do is keep the call open during this time and schedule the next meeting."

"This better not be a fucking trap. I told them I'm not actually talking to a shrink."

"This is only to help get you your hormones. If I go and tell people that I've worked with your older self and know that hormones are best for you, I would lose my license or your supernatural situation would become way too public. If you want to try talking, that's fine, but this is only to make sure things go smoothly in getting your hormones."

"...good. 'Cause I don't talk to therapists."

"That's up to you. I would recommend trying it out, since you are in a safe position to do so, but you won't benefit from it if you aren't willing."

"How do you know it's safe?"

"Would you say you are currently in a supportive environment?"

"...I guess…"

"Do you believe you are in a safer environment than the childhood you do remember?"

"...Max and Neil are both pussies now, so... probably... But whatever. That's not the point. Therapists aren't safe."

"You've probably heard about the rules I'm constrained to follow, and probably don't care about them because clearly, people can break rules. So, I'd like to point out that your future self considers me safe."

"Yeah, and he's stupid."

"Whether that is the case or not, I did have to earn his trust, and I'm sure it was more difficult for the therapists before him. I am fine if you want to test me, do whatever you need to see if I can be worthy of your trust, and if you don't want to risk it, that's fine too. Just, before you make your decision, consider why you feel therapists are not safe."

Bandit rolled his eyes like it was obvious. "I know why. Because- ...uh, 'cause..." He frowned, trying to think. Fuck, it was too long ago. He couldn't remember what had happened. "...they get you in trouble."

"Who do they get you in trouble with?"

"...my parents?" He was starting to remember it a little. His dad hadn't been happy about it… "I think... Fuck…"

"Who can I get you in trouble with?"

"...well you can tell Max or Neil. And they might get mad. Eventually."

"Eventually. Why do you say eventually?"

"'Cause right now they're pussies, but Max is gonna break at some point. That's what we do. We break adults."

"That does make sense. So, how long do you think it will take to break Max or Neil?"

"I dunno. Neil is a pushover; I don't think he'll break. He... was always my lapdog…"

"So you trust Neil about as much as you would trust David?"

"...They're different," Bandit mumbled. "But I guess."

"Of course they are. So, it's Max you're worried most about."

"...yeah."

"How long do you think it will take to break him? Have you made any progress yet?"

"Blake is really good at irritating him. So probably."

"So, do you think it will take... a month? a week?"

"I don't know . Fuck."

"So, are you just going to stay on edge around him for the rest of your life if he doesn't break?"

"It wouldn't be very different so, yeah probably."

"So you can't think of any way you might begin to feel comfortable around Max?"

"...I'm... comfortable... But that doesn't mean I can trust him."

"Ok, then in what way would he be able to earn your trust?"

"I don't know."

"That might be something you want to consider."

Bandit rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"Well, you're living with him. Wouldn't it be nice if you could trust him?"

"It would have been nice to trust my parents, too, but that wasn't fucking happening."

"Of course. Your parents were pieces of shit, after all."

"And so am I. So I can't trust him."

"Has your older self proved that he's a piece of shit yet?"

" I'm a piece of shit. And he's me. So he's a piece of shit too."

"Why do you consider yourself a piece of shit?"

"Because I am."

"...Could it be because you feel like shit can only make more shit?"

"...fuck. Shit. Fuck off, you tricked me." Bandit scowled and scooted away from the desk. "No, I'm not saying any more shit."

"That's entirely up to you."

" You tricked me."

"I was just asking a few questions as long as you felt comfortable answering them."

" Fuck off ."

"Alright. We can just fuck off on our phones until it's time to schedule the next appointment."

Bandit glared at him and moved the desk chair so he was sitting out of frame before he put in earbuds and started playing on his new phone. The therapist sighed. He would rather have had him at least in frame, but oh well.

Once the hour was up and the next appointment was scheduled for two weeks out, Bandit left the room. When he appeared back out in the living room, Blake said, in a voice that clearly said he was judging Bandit, "So, how'd it go?"

"I told him I wanted to start T, he said he just has to schedule appointments to make it look legit or whatever the fuck. So we didn't talk ."

"Sounds like you said something ."

"Nothing real . He already fucking knew the appointment was to get me on hormones. That wasn't new information."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Then why did it take so fucking long?"

"He said we had to keep the call open for a fucking hour . So we just sat there."

"That sounds like fucking torture."

"It was stupid. I just played on my phone the whole time."

"Jesus christ, I don't know which is more lame."

"What the hell else was I supposed to do?"

"Give me some shit to hold against you."

"Fuck you." It wasn't very aggressive, it sounded... more brotherly.

"Fuck you." A little less brotherly, but not aggressive.

The next day at dinner, Max spoke to tell Blake and Bandit about holiday plans. 

"So. Diwali starts on the 4th this year, and we do have plans with family for it."

Blake didn't look up. "Pass."

"That's fine. I was gonna give you guys the option to stay home. But we're only visiting with our cousins, the ones that supported us being trans and the whole... situation with our parents. And we'll be gone overnight."

"Really?" Blake asked, having assumed he would be stuck seeing a bunch of family he didn't want to see or deal with.

"Mm-hm. Just the cousins we actually like. Maan won't be there, and none of the aunts or uncles who took our parents' side when I went no-contact. Or the transphobic ones."

"Oh... I guess I'll go then…"

"...no one's gonna call us girls?" Bandit asked tentatively.

"No, they won't. And if, for whatever fucking reason, someone does, we'll get the fuck out of there."

"Yes. Not only do we not want to put you guys through that, but we don't want Frankie around people who will say stuff like that," Neil agreed.

"She loves seeing her cousins, and that's only because she only sees the ones who support us."

"Ok... yeah, that... sounds... ok," Blake said, not wanting to sound eager.

"...Ok... yeah, I'll go..."

"Cool. We're leaving the morning of the 6th, and we'll be coming home the next day."

"Yeah, that's fine."

"...do they know? About, uh... y'know, the magic part?" Bandit asked.

"I told them the fake story."

"How did you convince them of that?" Blake asked.

"They haven't talked to my parents since I left, and no one ever talked to Jorani."

"...I guess that makes sense."

"Mm-hm. So, technically, they don't even know you're trans, either."

Blake shifted uncomfortably. It felt like they were trying to get him excited, and he didn't want to give off that kind of energy.

"...oh. Shit. I didn't think about that..."

Frankie bounced a little in her seat. "I wanna do the fireworks."

"Yeah kid, there's gonna be sparklers and fireworks. That's half the holiday."

"Where is it going to be?" Blake asked casually.

"Alisha's place. She's not far, it's like... an hour drive, I think?"

Bandit remembered her; she had been one of his favorite cousins because she was trans, too.

"Alisha?" Blake asked.

"Arya. She's Alisha now," Bandit answered. "She told me, like, a couple years ago."

"We... have a trans cousin?"

"Have you seen how many cousins we have?" Max asked. "Statistically, it'd be fucking weird if we didn't have a bunch of queer cousins."

"I don't know those statistics," Blake said, rolling his eyes.

"Between 10 to 15% of people identify as some sort of queer, and since there is a small genetic link to queerness, that number tends to rise within families," Neil explained. "Since you guys have so much family, it makes sense for a lot of them to be queer. Especially within Gen Z and younger generations."

"Really? That's... a lot higher than I expected."

"People keep getting gayer and gayer." Max shrugged a little. "It's cool. And so all of us queer cousins just kinda... grouped together and went low-contact with the rest of the family."

"...it's still weird that we're not the only trans cousin…"

"It's not just... us and Alisha?"

"There ended up being a lot of us…"

"There's also a thing about the more sons you have, the greater the probability the next one will be queer," Neil added. "So with your family there's the genetic component and the fact that so many had a lot of children."

"Huh..."

Frankie was listening so intently. She liked listening to her dad talk about science stuff.

"Was that a question or a thoughtful sound?" Neil asked.

"It's just... cool, I guess."

Chapter Text

The morning of the 6th, they all got dressed (for the holiday, of course- Max even had a tie-dye hoodie they made on a previous year, and Frankie's dress was bright and sparkly), packed the car with their overnight bags, and headed out to Alisha's house for Diwali. Blake was glad he had his phone for the sake of gaming in the meantime. Bandit was also gaming on his phone for most of the ride and enjoying the music in the car. 

When they arrived at Alisha's house, there were already a couple of cars. When the car stopped, Blake glances out of the window, trying to make some snap judgments based on what he saw. It was a decent-sized house; a bit on the bigger size, which was why Alisha was hosting Diwali. There were maybe three or four cars (including her own) around the property, and it was brightly decorated. Bandit did remember her always being louder and brighter- Diwali had been her favorite holiday too, because of the colors.

"This is the place?" Blake asked, a bit surprised any of his cousins had gotten successful enough in the future.

"Mm-hm. They moved in before their first kid."

"Great, I forgot about there probably being more kids here," Blake grumbled, but opened the car door.

Frankie was excited to get out of the car and see her cousins, so as soon as she was out of her car seat, she ran up to the front door and went inside. Neil went to grab their bags from the trunk, wanting to get their things in sooner rather than later. Max led Blake and Bandit up to the house. He could hear everyone reacting and saying hi to Frankie, and after a moment, Alisha met them at the door.

"Namaste, Max! I'm so glad you all made it here safe."

"Hey, Alisha." Max waved a little. "Yep, all here. Uh- this is Blake and Bandit." He pointed each of them out.

"So these are your brothers! They look just like you."

"I know, right? It's kinda crazy."

"Mm-hm..." Bandit was a bit stand-offish. He had kind of missed some of his cousins, but he didn't want them figuring out that something was weird…

"Well, it's good to meet you two. I'm your cousin, Alisha, she/her pronouns."

"Yeah, ok... I'm a guy."

"Same," Blake said.

"Ok. So, if there's anything you want, feel free to ask, and feel free to help yourself to anything. We have plenty of badam, nimbu pani, and all kinds of snacks available."

"You got somewhere we should smoke, or do you just want us in the backyard?" Max asked.

"The backyard, just keep it away from the kids."

"Yep, fair enough."

Bandit was already making his way around the house to the backyard. He wasn't saying hi to so many people without some more weed. Blake headed inside, mainly to find the sweets. 

Neil finally came up with the bags. "Hi, Alisha... Same room as last year?"

"Yeah, that works."

Max went to help him put the bags away. He also grabbed Neil and Frankie's headphones from their bags while he was helping to put them away, and handed Neil his. 

"Y'ready to go say hi to everyone?"

"Thanks," he said, taking them to put around his neck. "Yeah, let's go."

Max gave him a kiss before they headed downstairs. By the time they joined the party, Blake and Bandit had both ransacked the sweets spread, and Alisha was already pulling out more to replace what they took.

Some kids Frankie's age were running around with her, through the living room and dining area where the snack tray was set. Luckily, Frankie was fine with the noise level for now; she was little, and more excited about the holiday and the party. Bandit was… not very happy about the kids being loud, but that was the holiday. He had known to expect it.

After a few minutes, Blake stuffed some less-difficult sweets to hide in his hoodie pocket and headed outside to hopefully find more quiet. Although they weren't as cool in broad daylight, he was quick to note the box of fireworks on the porch.

At some point during the party, Bandit ended up hiding out in one of the empty rooms. He kept thinking about his own Neil- he had been about to invite him to Diwali for the first time that year, and now it couldn't happen. He was bummed out and kept missing his own Neil.

About 20 minutes after Bandit went off, Neil ended up entering the room, his noise canceling headphones up on his ears and turned on. Once he closed the door, he sighed and turned to face the room, seeing Bandit. He was sitting against the back wall, and he tensed when the door opened. Once he saw that it was just Neil, he relaxed, but... he wasn't looking at him.

"Oh, Bandit..." Neil slowly shut his headphones off and lowered them back around his neck, steeling himself a little to check on how Bandit was doing. "I didn't realize you're in here."

"Yeah, I am," Bandit mumbled, still avoiding looking at him.

He was responding, so that was good. "Are you... overwhelmed?"

"I'm fine. "

"...I can tell you're not, but... if you don't feel comfortable talking about it, that's fine too."

" Fuck off ." Seeing Neil and talking to Neil just made him worse whenever he was missing his own Neil…

"Well... If your head is too loud or something, or you want a distraction, maybe try a true crime podcast. I know Max likes a couple." He went to put his headphones back on to leave and find another room.

After another ten or so minutes went by, the door opened again.

Bandit groanes. "Oh my god, I said fuck o- oh." He looked and saw that it was Blake, not Neil. "...hi."

"Shut up, loser. Do you wanna steal some fireworks or not?"

"...uh- hell yeah I do."

"Then come on. No one's guarding them."

Bandit quickly got up, eager to stop thinking about Neil. Blake started to leave, not bothering to wait for him to catch up, but Bandit wasn't far behind him. By the time they reached the patio, there were some people spilling out into the backyard, but no one was really paying attention to the fireworks yet.

Blake paused for just a moment to assess everything- Bandit too. He shoved his hands in his pocket, taking note of where everyone was and what they were doing. With that, Blake casually headed for the fireworks, and Bandit kind of hovered, deciding to play lookout and block the view of the fireworks. That worked for Blake; it made things less suspicious. 

Once over by the fireworks, he glanced around quickly before stuffing them in his hoodie pocket as well as up in his hoodie. Bandit didn't look toward him, so as to not draw suspicion, but he could somehow tell just how much he was grabbing. He was over there for a while. Once grabbed, Blake headed away from the fireworks and most of the people, trying to quickly get into Bandit's view so he could join him and see all that he got. Bandit followed him after a minute. Didn't want it to seem like they were together, after all.

Once Blake felt he was mostly out of sight, he stopped to wait for Bandit.

Bandit caught up with him. "Alright, what'd you grab?"

He started pulling out some of the bigger ones from under his shirt. "Anything that looked cool."

"Ohh, sick." Bandit grabbed some to look them over. Once that area was emptied, Blake pulled out a few things from his hoodie pocket. "Shiiiit, you grabbed a lot. Nice job."

"I'm not doing this just for one."

"Yeah, no shit. It's still a good haul."

"Yeah. Now come on, you have the lighter, right?"

"Uh, duh." Bandit pulled it out. "I always have one on me. Are we planning this out or just doing whatever the fuck?"

"I just wanted to check before we set shit up. I was thinking we just do whatever, unless you have something in mind."

"Hm... We should at least do the big ones first, so we get the cool ones done before anyone can stop us."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Should we set 'em off here? I kinda wanna see if we can find a way onto the roof." Bandit looked toward the house.

"That would be fucking sick."

"Here, stay here with the fireworks. I'm gonna go case the house, see if I can find a way up."

Blake rehid all the fireworks in his hoodie, watching Bandit head off toward the house. He went all around the house, and he did find something, but it didn't look safe to climb at all. Even with their recklessness, Bandit didn't want to try it. He wanted to set off the fireworks more than he didn't care about getting hurt. 

"Nowhere good to climb. Let's just light them up here."

"Fine."

They took a couple minutes to set some of the fireworks up, and then Bandit pulled out his lighter to light them. Blake was smiling, so ready for this.

The first big firework went off, narrowly missing a tree branch. It exploded in a cloud of colorful dust. A couple people screamed in surprise at the explosion, many jumped. Bandit had lit a few at once, so the next couple fireworks followed in quick succession. A couple were spreading colorful dust, others were typical fireworks.

One of the older cousins ended up running over. "Hey! You two!" Having seen Max do this before, and possibly having joined in a time or two, he was not hesitant in getting close to them despite the fireworks going off.

Bandit jumped at the yelling, backing off the remaining fireworks a little. Blake immediately backed away from the apparently angry man.

"Lighter, now." The guy held his hand out.

"Fuck off, it's mine!" Bandit snapped.

"You-" there was another deafening bang, "you kids could have burned this whole place down! I'll give it back, but not until you listen first."

"Hey hey, what's going on?" Max was on his way over.

"I know what the fuck I'm doing!"

"No the fuck you don't!"

" Hey , don't yell at them," Max said sternly. "Let me handle this."

"Yeah, you tell them. There's fucking branches right above them."

"We moved away from the tree!"

"Yeah, not far enough, dipshits." Max gathered up the remaining fireworks and passed them off to his cousin. "Go hide the fireworks. Like, actually hide them."

"Yeah yeah, I got it." He quickly took them and headed towards the house.

Max turned back to both of them. "Seriously, you guys gotta be more careful with that shit. You could'a burned the place down."

Blake swallowed, still a little shaken, but looked Max up and down for a second. "...So?"

" So you could have gotten yourselves and all of us killed or hurt. Or at least caused a serious amount of damage. That's a big fucking deal. If you guys want to do fireworks, you can ask me. I'll do 'em with you."

"It's not a big deal," Bandit mumbled.

"It is. And if you're not gonna take this seriously, I'm taking your lighter. And you're not gonna help with the fireworks later, either."

"It's not like you're gonna fucking do anything," Blake shot back. "It can't be that big of a fucking deal."

" I'm not going to hit you guys . But that doesn't mean it's not a big deal."

"Then fuck off!"

"Absolutely not. Both of you, inside."

Blake folded his arms. "How are you gonna make me?"

"C'mon man, it's not worth it," Bandit mumbled a little. He... did feel a little bad about almost hurting everyone… Blake shot a small glare at him, frustrated that he was so ready to just be pliant to this pussy.

"C'mon, just talk to me for a minute."

Blake shook his head in frustration, hesitated, and then began walking away from the house.

Max sighed in frustration. "Fuck, fine, whatever. He doesn't have a lighter, I can talk to him later." He eyed Bandit a little. "...you know why you fucked up, don't you?"

Bandit shifted, not meeting his eyes. "...Yeah…"

"Ok, good. You just need to be more careful if you do this stuff, ok? If you wanna light any more fireworks today, you gotta do them with me."

"Yeah, ok... I... didn't mean to risk a fire…"

"I know you didn't. And I really appreciate you admitting that." Max gave him a very serious look. "Now. Can I trust you to keep your lighter and not set off more fireworks? Because I wanna trust you."

He really sounded like David, asking if he could be trusted. Bandit didn't really like that shit, you couldn’t trust people to say they were trustworthy. And it made him feel more like shit. "... I won't set off more fireworks."

"You better not."

"I won't…"

"Thank you. Alright, go enjoy the holiday. I'm gonna go find your brother."

Bandit awkwardly took his lighter back and stuffed it in his pocket before leaving. Fuck, that was stressful.

Max went off to find Blake, and he managed to find him as he was attempting to climb the backyard fence. Max just picked him up and set him back on the ground, with Blake flailing at suddenly being grabbed.

"Yeah yeah, chill out. C'mon, we need to talk."

"I'm not fucking talking with you."

"Tough shit, you don't get a choice." Blake flipped him off. "Sit down."

He folded his arms and remained standing, very tense. Max actually sat down first, in front of him. 

"You need to listen to me. You are not in trouble, but this is a big fucking deal."

"If it was actually a 'big fucking deal'," Blake said mockingly, "I'd be in fucking trouble."

"Were you intentionally trying to burn the house down and kill everyone?"

"What if I was?" He hadn't been, but he was testing Max.

"Then that's a different story. Yeah, you'd be in big trouble for that. But I don't believe that you were."

"It's not like death fucking matters."

"Honestly, I agree with you. But to everyone else, yeah it does."

"No, it doesn't. We're all fucking replaceable. Why not kill some people?"

"Other people don't like dying, for some reason. And we're not replaceable. Everyone lives different experiences or whatever."

"So what? You die, it's over, and if it's so bad you're gone, we just give Harrison a fucking picture. Nothing fucking matters."

"To you . And I don't care that much either. I get it. But other people don't like that."

"So what if other people don't like it?"

" We are not the center of the fucking universe."

" Clearly . If I were, it would matter that I don't like being alive."

"...shit, kid..." Max sighed, sitting back a little. "Nothing's been helping yet?" A part of Blake wanted to punch Max again for "caring." He wanted to scream, but that would hurt his image. Instead he just balled his hands into fists and looked away. "...what's still so bad?" Max asked. "Genuinely."

"Fuck off."

"No."

Blake was quiet, his frustration steadily growing. Max just sighed after a moment and almost moved to stand up.

"Existence itself is bad," Blake finally grumbled.

"Existence itself is a bunch of shit. Good and bad. ...we should get you guys to a rage room…"

"What the fuck is a rage room?"

"A room where you get to go nuts and break everything inside. Like plates and TVs and shit. ...sorry. I didn't mean to, like- invalidate how you feel back there. Yes, existence can be bad. But is there anything that isn't so bad?"

There was a quick moment where he thought about his summer, the picture of the good he had been ripped from passing by momentarily. "Everything is bad."

"You seemed to be having fun blowing shit up with Bandit."

"...that doesn't matter," he mumbled.

"Why not?" Max asked gently. Blake was quiet, growing more frustrated again. "...it's something that makes you happy, isn't it? Or at least doesn't make you feel bad?"

"...I don't know," Blake mumbled.

"Hey, that's something."

"Just fuck off…"

"If you want me to, I will. But if you wanna talk to me or Neil, you can. Ok?"

"I don't want to fucking talk."

"Well, the offer is still open." Max stood up.

"Leave me alone."

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

"Still fucking talking, clearly."

Max rolled his eyes and walked back to the house.

Blake ended up hiding out in the backyard and falling asleep. Max found him curled up in his hoodie when he went to find him for dinner. He debated for a moment before moving to try and carefully pick him up, deciding to move him to bed. Unfortunately, the moment there was a hand touching him, Blake jerked awake, pulling away.

Max backed off a bit. "Sorry."

"What the fuck?" He asked indigently.

"I was gonna move you to bed so you can sleep."

"I don't need to be carried like a fucking baby." Blake stood up and dusted himself off.

"Alright." Max held up his hands and backed off. "But since you're awake, are you hungry? Dinner's starting."

"You were just gonna send me to bed without dinner?" Blake asked, cranky and still in the mood to get at Max.

"You were already asleep, I wasn't sending you. And I was gonna save you a serving of everything in the fridge."

"Fuck off with that shit."

"What, saving food for you?"

"All of it."

"...yeah, ok. Do you want dinner?"

Blake began heading for the house, and Max followed along behind him. Blake didn't like that too much, just wanting his personal space, and was already trying to figure out how to get food and get away from everyone because he was already done with the whole social aspect of this holiday. Too many kids and too many adults.

Once Max sat down to eat with Neil (who had put a plate together for him), Blake quietly grabbed his own plate and started serving himself. He left back to the backyard to find a new hiding spot.

Chapter Text

After dinner, everyone began moving outside for the fireworks. Bandit followed, eager to see more, and wishing he could light some more himself. He watched as Frankie and the other little kids got handed lit sparklers and pop-its, and the cousin from before brought out the collection of real fireworks. 

"Ok, so, we'll be starting off with the daytime ones as the sun is setting and by the time we're done it should be dark enough for the regular fireworks," he explained.

"...I wanna light some," Bandit said.

"Here, you can carry some over with me, then," Max said, handing some over to him.

Honestly, Bandit hadn't been expecting that to work, but he wasn't complaining. He was high as fuck and wanted to watch explosions. He helped Max carry the fireworks, and they set up shop outside of the fence in the backyard. 

"Now, with big fireworks, we want to try and be about 150 feet away from any people or flammable shit, which is why we're out here. Luckily, Alisha's backyard has a big empty area behind it perfect for our shit."

"Yeah yeah, got it. Can we light them now?"

"Not yet. My cousin is checking on a few things. Once he sends the text we can go. Also, you see that plexiglass box there? It's set up as a guard so we can hide under it to be safe from fireworks. Now, you're old enough to be making your own safety decisions. I'm not using it unless shit goes wrong, but you can if you want."

"I'm not a pussy, I don't need to hide ." Bandit rolled his eyes.

"I know, but it's not our house or our land to light fireworks off on."

"Yeah, I got it."

Max then explained how to tell the difference between the daytime and nighttime fireworks. "Put the normal fireworks behind the plexiglass, and then help me up with setting up the day fireworks."

"I know what fucking day fireworks are." Bandit rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid." He put the nighttime fireworks where Max had said, then came back to start helping set up.

"I' didn't mean to make it sound like you were. I just don't remember when they got popular."

"Yeah, sure. How are we doing this?"

We light 'em up. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast. Give everyone a show."

"So no plan?"

"Not really. Just don't rush it."

"Fine. Can we start yet?"

"We still need the-" Max's phone went off and he quickly checked. "Alright, yeah, we can go."

Bandit was quick to pull out his lighter and set the fireworks off. Max stood back, letting Bandit enjoy himself and taking his bowl out to smoke a little. After a minute or so of Bandit just repeatedly lighting fireworks, Max stopped him.

"Ok, a little slower. We wanna be doing this for a while."

Bandit huffed, but paused for a minute. He had gotten a little… what did Neil and Nerris call it? Hyperfocused? 

"...How's your high?" Max asked.

"Mm? Oh I'm good, man."

"A'ight." He stuffed his bowl back in his pocket.

"Oh! I mean shit, if you're offering-"

"Yeah, I'm offering." Max laughed a little and handed his bowl over. Bandit took it and smoked a bit more, handing it back after he was done coughing. Then he went back to lighting fireworks.

Soon enough, they finished off all of the daytime fireworks, and while Max was setting up the nighttime ones, he sent Bandit inside to grab snacks and drinks.

Blake had snuck into the house since he saw Bandit and Max setting off the fireworks together. He had been too upset to fully enjoy the fireworks and everyone was outside anyway, even Neil and Frankie with their noise-canceling headphones and particle masks. He was making a small snack hoard to hide in the room they were staying in, and Bandit ran into him while they were both grabbing snacks. 

"Oh! Hey man. Where'd you go? We're doing fireworks. They're fucking awesome."

"Yeah, so awesome," Blake deadpanned, not looking at Bandit.

"...what's up your ass?"

"None of your fucking business."

"What the fuck is your problem? I didn't do shit."

"Just fuck off, go back to playing 'the good son.'" Blake rolled his eyes before heading to go hide in the bedroom with his snack stash.

"What the fuck are you talking about!"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I don't, actually, that's why I fucking asked ."

"Then you're a fucking moron."

"Because I'm- what? Blowing up fireworks with him? It's fucking Diwali, that's the point of the holiday!"

"Just like a good little patsy," Blake shot back.

"I'm not- fuck off! What's the big fucking deal? We were setting off fireworks too!"

He turned around. "Fine. You're not a patsy. You're a slut."

"How! Literally how!"

"You'll play good with anyone if they've got the shit you want."

"I'm not playing good ." Bandit scowled.

"Seems like you'll buddy up with anyone because you're just so desperate to replace whatever sorry excuses of friends you thought you had."

"Don't fucking talk about them!" Bandit snapped. He grabbed the front of Blake's hoodie, lifting him almost a foot off the ground.

Blake took a step back as Bandit reached for him, and froze once he felt the tug of a fist around his shirt. His heart raced in a way he was too used to. He swallowed, opened his mouth, and failed to say anything. His collar was just a little too tight around his neck, but it was only a few seconds before Bandit realized what he was doing and he dropped Blake. He stood back, breathing heavily and hands shaking. Fuck. Did he just almost do that? Blake reached for his neck, but froze before he got there, his eyes focused on Bandit, waiting for him to make another move.

"...sh-shit. I-I didn't- I- fuck- I didn't mean that."

Slowly, Blake unfroze to rub at his neck, still on high alert. Was he going to threaten him to stay silent about this? Was he going to backpedal this stupid backpedaling? Clearly the good act was just a ruse for his older selves, and this one was just more ready to get it out of his system.

Bandit was panicking now. He didn't want to be his dad, but that- fuck. That was shit his dad would have done. He wasn't any better than him, was he?

Blake's mind was beginning to race. Should he start running? Or would that make it worse? Clearly he wasn't going to run out to Max and tattle, he wasn't a rat. Bandit wasn't too much older, maybe he could fight back…

"...I-I-I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't wanna do that- I don't know- fuck. Fuck."

The words finally processed in Blake's mind. A fucking apology? He didn't trust it, but he did untense a little. Hesitantly, he straightened up to fake regaining his composure. Bandit was a little too gone to notice. 

"I-I'm not- I'm not him. I'm not. I don't know why I did that. I didn't want to- shit- I'm not him."

Blake frowned, this not going at all how it was supposed to. "God, you're really just as much a pussy as fucking Max. Go back to 'papa' , you wuss."

" I'm not dad . I'm not him . I'm- I don't wanna be."

Blake shook his head and headed for the bedroom again. Bandit slid down to sit against the counter, falling into his own little panic attack.

After another minute or so, the door opened. "Bandit?"

"...I'm in here…"

Max made his way over, looking concerned. "What are you doing down there?"

"Mind your fucking business," Bandit responded, but it didn't sound sincere.

Max took a moment to really look at Bandit, and the kid looked shaken up. This seemed too serious to just brush off until he was ready. "Seriously, you look pale, what the fuck happened?"

"...I almost-" Bandit made a kind of... strangling motion in the air. "Fuck. It felt too easy."

Max blinked, trying to figure out what he meant by that. At least it wasn't like his mom showing up uninvited or something like that. "You... I need a little more than that, kid."

"We started fighting and I almost- I grabbed him. Like dad used to grab us."

"Oh... Oh fuck. Did you hurt him?"

"I don't- maybe. I don't know."

He quickly pulled his phone out and texted Neil ("Inside talk Bandit"). "Ok, I'm gonna go find him. You stay right here, ok? Neil's gonna come and talk with you, make sure you're doing good. Did you see where Blake went?"

Neil: Oh, okay. Is he alright?

"No…"

"Shit, ok. I'm gonna go look."

As he started walking away, he checked the message.

Max: no come talk to him im finding blake there was a fight

Neil: Oh! Understood.

He was inside in the next minute, pulling his headphones down and looking around for Bandit. He found him sitting by the snack table and knelt down. "Hey, Bandit. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine…" Bandit figured that he was only sharing so openly because he was so high.

"So you're not hurt... What happened?"

"I almost strangled Blake," he said, a little flat. "Like dad used to."

"...Oh... But you didn't, right?"

"No. But I grabbed him."

"Ok, well... at least you didn't strangle him... What- ...I'm assuming he provoked you, right?"

"...he was talking shit about you and Nikki... My you and Nikki…"

"Oh... Well... It's clear you know that... what you did was wrong... But that doesn't mean Blake was right. I'm really sorry you were put through that."

"It felt so easy," Bandit mumbled. It was still scaring him. "I really wanted to do it. But I don't- I don't wanna be like dad…"

"...When emotions run high, violence does feel easy to a lot of people. The fact you didn't do it shows that you have a lot of strength."

"...does it?"

"Which part?"

"Show that... I have strength... or whatever the fuck?"

"Yeah. It's easy to do the easy thing, and you felt how easy it would have been to hurt someone. You did the hard thing by holding back, and doing hard things takes strength."

"...I'm not him…"

"Of course you're not. One, you're already stronger than him and you're still a kid. Two, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be upset over almost hurting a kid. Not wanting to be like him already makes you less like him, because he wouldn't look at a child abuser and be disgusted at the idea of being like them."

"...ok…"

"...Would you like a hug?"

"...fine…"

Neil carefully pulled him into a hug, wanting to make sure that Bandit didn't feel like some monster that people needed to be scared of, to help him feel more human within himself. Bandit really appreciated the hug, but he wasn't sure that he deserved it.

"I'm proud of you for not going further, even though you were provoked. You-"

The door opened and Alisha looked in. Bandit immediately pulled away from the hug, not wanting anyone to see.

"Hey, is everything ok?" Alisha asked.

"Uh, not fully, I'm sorry," Neil said. "We need some alone time right now. You can send Ash to do the fireworks."

"That's ok. If any of you need anything, let us know." She closed the door on her way out.

"Sorry…"

"Whatever," Bandit mumbled.

"...Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"...I was coming in to get drinks and snacks."

"Do you want something right now?"

"I can grab something."

"I can too."

"...fine…"

"Food or drink?" Neil asked.

Bandit pointed out some of the sweets. Neil grabbed what he knew his Max typically liked more than the others and handed it over. Bandit ate at them a little, going quiet. Neil sat down next to him, pulling out his phone to text Max. 

Neil: How is Blake? Have you found him?

Max: not yet

Neil: Bandit's stable right now if you need me to help find him, but if you don't I'd rather stick by Bandit just to be safe.

Max: if u want but he probably just really needed 2 hide. i just wanna make sure he's not hurt or whatever

Neil: Okay. If you need me to start looking, let me know.

After about twenty minutes, Max finally found Blake when he opened the closet in their bedroom, and as usual, he backed off so he didn't feel trapped in. Blake froze, having been very slowly nibbling on one of the snacks he had "stolen."

"Hey, kid. You ok?"

He was quiet for a little too long, but eventually answered, "I'm fine. Why you asking?"

"I came in and found Bandit having a fucking panic attack on the floor and he said he thought he hurt you. So I'm making sure you're ok."

"He's a fuckin' pussy."

"So you're not hurt?"

"He can't hurt me if he tries, apparently."

"Yeah. That's a good thing. What the hell happened, anyway?"

"I'm not telling."

"If I ask why not, would you tell me?"

"Nope."

"Cool, figured. Y'want anything while you're in here? Water, soda, more food?"

"Just for you to take a hike."

"Alright. If you want anything, you can ask us or get it yourself. We're still doing fireworks too, if you wanna come watch."

"Shut the fuck up. Why can't you just leave? Why do you have to keep running your mouth?"

"Because you being a little shit isn't gonna stop me from offering. I'm gonna keep offering this stuff, every time you need it."

"I don't need shit from you or anyone!"

"Im still gonna offer until you want it."

He threw the snack he was working on at Max's head, but missed. Max dodged, even though it wasn't necessary. 

"Feel better?"

"No, get out!"

Max left, and Blake closed the closet door and curled back up, just more upset than before. He just wanted everything to stop being so much, so frustrating.