Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When a child is born, they gain a tattoo.

A soulmark, they called it. Part of a whole. People took it as a romantic thing, and most of the time it was. Sometimes, sometimes it was friendship, companionship that would be bound as tight as a constrictor knot.

People spent their entire lives looking for that other half. Some of them didn’t care what a mark on their skin said, living their life their way without looking even once.

Soulmarks came in three types.

The first, the common one, was a picture. According to the books, it’s meant to represent the soulmate in some way. They could appear anywhere on a person, although usually in an area visible enough to be seen in the first place.

The second was a black mark, in the same area the soulmate would touch for the first time. Hands were the most common, followed by shoulders. They weren’t just black patches, more akin to patterns. When touched, they would glow.

The third, the least common, was the ‘slice’. These were half of a picture, only to be completed when soulmates touched for the first time. However, this was also the only one that appeared for those with more than one soulmate, hence being called the ‘slice’ soulmark.

Having more than one soulmate, a star that split and fed so many pieces of a puzzle, was incredibly rare. But it was possible.

Finney was one of the lucky few. On his dominant hand, right at the space between his wrist and his hand, was an incomplete pie. It was shaped like a rotary dial, a spot coloured purple with a positively tiny phone inside, next to a red spot filled with a small cactus.

Yeah, he found this out rather quickly. It started when Robin first moved here. Sure, the first few weeks they actually never talked to each other, but then Robin had swooped out of nowhere when Finney had fallen off the swings. The moment Robin had helped him up with panicked Spanish words tumbling from his mouth, followed by an itch in Finney’s wrist, they knew they would be best friends.

Since then, it was history, the two sticking together through thick and thin. Robin had gotten leagues better with his English, and leagues better in knowing how to throw a punch to help his best friend. In return, Finney carried a first aid kit in his jacket pocket, just to wipe and bandage up whatever cuts Robin had gotten himself into that day.

It was a fine deal, the two of them together.

But there were four empty holes left on the rotary, so there were four more of them.

Which, in Finney’s honest opinion, was insane . Robin found it equally as insane, because three was already rare enough, but six ? Six soulmates, all bonded together by something outside of a middle schooler’s understanding.

Finding even one out of six this early was spectacular enough, and Finney was happy right now with just Robin.

Robin was great. Someone he could trust with all his heart, besides his own sister.

Right now, they were walking along the sidewalk together, Robin eagerly telling Finney all about dinner and how Finney should come over sometimes so they can have dinner together.

He wishes he could, but his dad prefers him to be home for dinner. Otherwise he gets a little irritated. Finney likes his dad to not be irritated, so he is left to decline Robin’s generous offers.

“Come on, just one night? I’m sure your papa can let you go one night! Hey, you can even bring Gwen over too, mama makes enough food to feed a whole army!” Robin spreads his arms wide with a grin.

Finney laughs, ducking underneath one of Robin’s arms when it swings towards him. Robin takes it in stride, draping his arm over Finney’s shoulder. He grabs ahold of it, shaking it roughly before he lets it sit there.

“How is Gwen anyways?”

“Doing great. She spends her time at her friend Susie’s a lot, stays over as much as she can.”

Robin nods slowly. “Hmm, yeah. I get that. Is that why you keep saying no? Because then your pop’s gets lonely at home?”

Finney scratches at his cheek. That could be the case, not wanting his dad to be lonely. That, and Finney has to make sure that his dad is at least somewhat fed. The alcohol isn’t particularly doing much favours for nutrition, and Finney still cares a little about his dad. So, he has to at least be home for dinner.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Eh, I wish he stepped up more for you.” Robin shakes his head with a flicker of anger in his eyes. “I hate him, truly. Wish I could just-” Robin waves his fist in the air, Finney leaning away with a nervous laugh.

Robin is quick to drop it.

“Dude, you can’t just- fight my dad.”

“Sure I can. I would win, wouldn’t I Finn? Wouldn’t I.” Robin shakes his shoulder again as they continue to walk. “Now, what do you say you and I race down this sidewalk.”

“Okay, sure. Ready set go!” Finney doesn’t give Robin time to think as he races down the street, Robin yelling out ‘Hey!’ before the sound of sneakers follow the beat of his own.

Robin is quick, but Finney was faster. All that baseball training really paid off, and Finney jumps and lands on the edge of the sidewalk’s path, turning around with a triumphant grin. “Hah! Beat you by a mile.”

Robin grins, coming to a stop inches before he slammed straight into his friend. “Oh, you beat me this time Finn. Next time though!” He waves a finger at Finney, Finney sticking the tip of his tongue out at him.

“Oh you little-” Robin reaches up and hooks his arm around Finney’s neck, pulling him down and grinding his knuckles into his scalp. Finney squirms and laughs, pushing against Robin’s chest in a desperate attempt to free himself, although he doesn’t quite manage to come out any looser from Robin’s firm grip.

Robin lets go on his own accord a minute later, after one last squeeze and pressing his forehead on the back of Finney’s head in a gesture of a hug. Finney smiles and returns the favour with a squeeze to Robin’s arm, where his own soulmark lay.

“So you got any plans for tomorrow?” Finney asks. Robin shakes his head, the pair falling into step side by side.

“Not really. Why, you got any bright ideas in that head of yours Finn?”

“Well, I was thinking you could join me in shooting bottle rockets, out by the fields? Then we take it from there.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” Robin tells him, before his attention is cut elsewhere. “Oh, we’re here already? Aww man.” He turns to Finney and pats his shoulder three times in succession, smile still on his lips. “See ya tomorrow Finn.”

“See you tomorrow, Robin.” Finney waves at him as Robin sprints off down his street, Finney turning and walking on his own the rest of the way there. A few cars and bikes pass by him on the road, but Finney doesn’t pay a lick of attention to them.

He turns the corner, just as a body slams into him. Finney falls to the ground, although he is quick to push himself up and open his eyes to see just what fell into him.

A kid, clearly younger if not just much shorter than he was is sprawled over his lap, and Finney could feel the kid’s heartbeat pounding through his chest. Before he could ask if he was okay, the boy is already scrambling up, eyes wide with what was obviously fear.

“H-Help-” He sputters out, Finney looking up to see a black van coming closer.

There’s a bad feeling in his gut, and Finney’s already standing up and grabbing the kid’s hand, pulling him away from the van. The kid, a boy by the sounds of it, squeezes Finney’s hand as they run the opposite way of the black van.

It was a van, and as much as Finney can run, a car would be faster. Still, it doesn’t hurt to try, with adrenaline rushing through his veins.

He knows where he wants to go, and he just hopes its enough to deter whatever was scaring this kid so badly.

Finney storms up to the Arellano’s front door and knocks. It swings opens near immediately, and Finney barely tries to apologize to Robin as he squeezes into his home with a random boy still holding onto his hand.

“Woah, woah- Finney what’s chasing you mi cohete?” Robin is quick to ask him, already looking outside for the threat before Finney hisses at him to shut it. Robin does without question, although he turns with a confused look and a questioning tilt to his eyebrow.

Which Finney doesn’t have an answer, his attention turning to the boy he practically dragged into a stranger’s house. Said boy looks between Robin and Finney, chest heaving, and Finney kind of wants to comfort him with a hug, like he does with Gwen.

The best he can do is rub the boy’s back until he calmed down, Robin deciding to ask questions later and act now, walking away and returning with a glass of water which he shoves in the boy’s hands. The boy swallows, bringing the glass to his lips and taking several loud gulps, audible and stagnated. Eventually he lowers it, clearing his throat.

“Sorry. Thank you,” Were his first words, followed by, “Is he still outside? Black van.”

Robin turns to the window that faced the front, peering out before shaking his head. “Don’t see anyone? No black van either.”

The boy lets out a shaky sigh. “Oh, good.”

Finney is the next to ask, still worried a little about what exactly happened. “What happened that spooked you?”

The boy’s gaze drops to the side, squeezing and un-squeezing the glass before he takes a smaller, less noisy sip. 

“He tried to grab me.”

The room felt like it dropped a few degrees, Finney turning to the boy with his whole body instead of just his head. “Who tried to grab you? A guy in the black van?”

The boy nods, Robin hissing something under his breath.

Finney shudders at the thought. Who would’ve thought someone tried kidnapping a kid in broad daylight? Seconds away from him it seemed like.

Who knows what could’ve happened.

“You’re safe here, amigo. Promise on my abuela’s cat Burro.” Robin places one hand on his chest. “What’s your name?”

“G… Griffin. Griffin Stagg.” Griffin takes another sip of water, clearing the glass.

“Griffin. Well nice to meet you. I’m Robin Arellano, and that’s my best friend Finney Blake. He saved you, it sounds like.”

Griffin nods, a short relieved giggle coming from him as he continues to squeeze at the glass. “I’ve heard of you. You’re one of the toughest kids in school.”

Robin preens a little, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Oh, you bet I am! You go to our school?”

Griffin nods. “Yeah. But nobody really acknowledges me, so it’s fine if you don’t remember seeing me ever.” He says it as if it were plain fact, which kind of makes Finney feel a little sad. Finney couldn’t say that he did know Griffin at all, and this was practically the first time he even met the kid.

Judging by Robin’s face, he thought the same as well. Robin leaps off the couch he had perched on, and slams down his hands on Griffin’s shoulders with a prideful smile. “Well then Griffin, we’re acknowledging you now!”

“I would hope so, I’m standing in your house,” Griffin quips, and it makes Robin grin even wider.

“Yeah, that too. Anyways, anybody you need to call? We got a phone in the kitchen so you can call your mama or dad.” Robin turns and strolls into the kitchen, Griffin at his heels.

Finney lets them go, instead choosing to take a seat on Robin’s couch, hands gripping his knees. His mind whirls with the thought of the black van, how Griffin was so close to disappearing from the face of Denver. Maybe missing posters, but then what? Would the police be able to find him? Finney might be able to tell them info, but that was only if he had seen the actual kidnapping go down.

He wouldn’t even have thought the van was strange if Griffin hadn’t barreled into him with such panic in his eyes. He rubs his wrists on his knees, letting out a deep breath. Count his blessings, that’s what his mom used to say. Count his blessings that Griffin was safe right now.

Finney hopes that this was a one time thing, that the kidnapper wouldn’t try again.

“Hey, Finn? You might want to see this.”

Finney looks up, Robin poking his head in with his hand on his shoulder.

The same shoulder his soulmark is.

Finney stares at him for far too long, before he looks down, turning his wrist over.

Sitting at the end of the line of circles was a yellow spot, a lock printed on top.

“Holy shit.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, okay. So. Wow. Huh.”

Finney watches Robin pace back and forth in the kitchen, processing what just happened. Finney was freaking out a little inside as well, there was no reason why he wouldn’t be when he saved his literal soulmate from a kidnapping, but he was better at hiding it.

Robin was more of an action guy, he gets it. Get all that energy out of him one way or another.

Griffin hasn’t said a word since the revelation, just sitting on one of chairs and swinging his feet as he watches Robin walk back and forth. He didn’t seem all that uncomfortable, so that was something at least.

Eventually Robin stops, hands on his hips as he stares at the phone. “Okay. Okay cool. Cool.” He turns around. “So, you’re fine with being attached to us by literal fate, si?”

Griffin nods.

“That’s good. Well, welcome to the party, Griffin. Have you…?” Robin trails off, and he draws a circle in the air. To anyone else, it was just a circle, but Finney knew what he was getting at.

“No. Just you two.” Griffin scratches at his jawline, right underneath his chin. “Man, if I knew I’d get a two-in-one deal I’d be running for my life sooner.”

Finney shakes his head a little, but he doesn’t actually say anything about Griffin’s attempt at a joke. Griffin seems pleased as punch about it anyways.

“Well you’re safe now, so hopefully it doesn’t happen again. I mean, what kidnapper tries for the same kid twice? I mean, unless you knew the man who tried to grab you.”

Griffin shakes his head, his pointer fingers stroking up and down the water glass still in his hands. “Not a clue who he was. He was… He was wearing a mask, which was very, very creepy not gonna lie? I think he was intending to just snatch anyone off the streets.” He laughs to himself, staring down at the water. Robin walks over and rubs his back, Griffin taking a shuddering breath.

“Let it out, let it out amigo,” Robin mutters, Griffin rubbing at his face.

“I’m fine. I’m- Hoo. I think I just want to lay in bed now. Sleep.”

Finney nods, because yeah. He gets it. He’d want to do nothing but be home if something scary happened to him. Or maybe in Robin and Gwen’s arms, whichever came first.

Robin seemed to think the same, as he laughs and gives Griffin’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Well then while we wait for your mama Griffin we might as well pass the time. Which by that I mean we’re playing blackjack. You know how to play?”

“I can hang out with you guys?” Griffin asks, Robin nodding with a grin.

“Course. We’re gonna be friends now, right? Makes sense, anyways. So, blackjack. You know how to play?”

“I- No I don’t know the rules.”

“That’s fine, it’s not that hard to understand. Come on, my room!” He’s already walking away, Finney smiling and turning to Griffin. The boy hasn’t moved at all, eyes wide like he genuinely didn’t know what to do about this.

Finney finds it amusing, but also a little sad. He didn’t have anyone to call a friend, did he? Well, that had to end today. Grabbing Griffin’s hand, he tugs at him, Griffin snapping back to reality and getting up.

“Come on, if we’re fast enough maybe Robin will let us tag team him instead of a one-on-one-on-one.”

Griffin blinks once, then nods with a small smile.

Time passes with ease, and Robin was kind enough to let Finney team with Griffin for a few rounds before he started complaining that it was no fair it was a two against one (even though Finney knows blackjack is more luck than any actual planning). Soon enough Griffin’s mom was knocking at the door to pick him up. Griffin gave them both a hug and another ‘thank you’ before he left with his mom.

Finney gets a second hug from Robin, the boy telling him to get home safe. Finney really couldn’t hope for his own mother to be picking him up anytime soon. He reassures his friend, giving him a firm pat on the back before they separated, Finney heading away from the Arellano’s for real this time.

His eyes trace the roads, just as a precaution, but the streets were empty now. There were no black vans lingering about, waiting for another victim.

Finney reaches his home in one piece, and he takes a deep breath before entering. His father, thankfully, was asleep, snoring on the couch. Finney takes careful steps around the discarded bottles to pull a blanket over his dad, then heads to his own room. He sees Gwen peeking out of her room, the two giving each other a small wave before they disappear into their respective rooms.

Finney shuts the door and collapses on his bed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. He sucks in a deep breath, eyes closing before he releases it slowly. Raising his wrist, he looks at the yellow circle now imprinted on it, tracing the arch of the lock with his fingernail. It was as if it’s always been there, instead of being just an hour old. Soulmarks didn’t need healing, they just existed. Still, Finney’s had his with Robin’s little slice for years, and now there’s a new one right at the bottom.

He’d have to get used to it, he knows that. He’s got three other empty circles too, and soulmates typically ended up in each other’s lives.

It was neat, how it all worked out. Finney rotates his wrist, still staring at his mark, his eyes focusing on his specific circle. It was funny that apparently he’s colour coded purple. Why purple? Was he just a purple guy? Maybe the stars couldn’t figure out what colour he was supposed to be and left him with purple. Robin being red made some sense, it was that alliteration stuff. Griffin being yellow also made sense, but in a more abstract way. He couldn’t explain it, it just made sense. Like how maths was red and english was blue, that kind of thing.

Finney drops his hand to his chest, turning his head to stare at the small model rocket that was currently sitting on his desk. Tomorrow he was heading out to shoot bottle rockets with Robin. Does Griffin like rockets? If Finney finds him tomorrow he’ll definitely ask. Bottle rockets were fun.

He sits up eventually, and stares at his desk. Might as well do some homework before dinner.

Finney hums as he unpacks his backpack and sets what he needs to do on his desk, tapping his pencil with the rocket eraser topper on the desk before beginning.

It didn’t take long before it was dinner. By that point Finney was done, shoving his work back in his bag and walking out of his room to the kitchen. His dad takes one look at him, but says nothing as he sits down next to Gwen, Gwen smiling at him.

“Hey Finney.”

Dinner was just some bread and tomato soup with carrots on the side, but that was okay. They finish dinner quick, and Gwen takes over washing the dishes so Finney was free to do whatever he wanted.

He helped her with the dishes anyways, because he was free to do whatever he wanted.

“You came home a little later than usual. What gives?” Gwen asks as Finney dries a plate and puts it back in its place.

“Oh, I had a bit of a detour.” Finney glances at the doorway, then back at Gwen. “Look.” He rotates his wrist over so Gwen could see the new addition. Gwen’s eyes widen, and a wet hand grabs at his wrist to pull it closer.

“You found another.”

Finney nods, a half smile forming on his lips. “Mmhmm. His name’s Griffin. He…” Finney pauses, wondering if it was okay to say. It was Gwen, and Gwen would definitely understand, so he continues, “He was nearly taken today. Have… Have you seen any black vans lately? In your dreams?” He whispers the last three words, and both kids turn to look at the doorway again.

Nothing. Finney turns back to his sister, who shakes her head.

“I haven’t. Not lately. Is it important?”

Finney doesn’t know if it is. “I can’t force you to do anything, Gwen. But if you want to try.”

“I’ll try. I can’t promise anything, you know that.” She hands him another dish for him to dry, Finney taking it without looking and wiping the rag.

“It was scary. Still kind of is. Griffin’s lucky he escaped.” Finney puts the bowl away.

“Is that his name? Griffin?”

Finney nods. “Stagg. Do you know him?”

Gwen shakes her head, which doesn’t surprise Finney. It still makes his heart twinge a little. They continue to clean the dishes, then retreat once more to their own schedules once it was all done.

Finney takes the bathroom first, then Gwen. Finney changes into his PJs and climbs into bed, staring at his ceiling for a little longer before he rolls over and goes to sleep.

Robin was already waiting for him once school let out. Finney waves to him, Robin returning it with a two-fingered salute.

“Hey, Finn. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just gotta drop by my house first.” The pair were already walking together, Robin just a step behind Finney.

Finney turns the corner just as he spots Griffin just sitting on the curb as other kids and cars pass by him, and he jogs over. Griffin looks up, and he smiles when he sees the boys approaching.

“Hi Finney, hi Robin.”

“Hey Griffin. Are you waiting for your mom?” Finney asks.

“No, she’s at work. I’m just sitting, because that’s what people do. That, and ants.” He points next to him, where there were in fact a whole bunch of ants crawling about the sidewalk. Finney takes a step to the side to let the ants do their thing, Robin remaining in place.

“So you’re just gonna walk home?”

“That was the plan. Why?”

“Well me and Finn were gonna go out to the field and shoot bottle rockets. You wanna come join?”

Griffin blinks, then hops up.

“Sure, love to.”

“Cool, come on!”

Griffin follows behind them, the trio walking in general but altogether comfortable silence. Gwen had gone to Susie’s today, so Finney didn’t worry about her. Soon they reached his house, and Finney made the pair stand outside while he went in to grab the bottle rockets. His dad wasn’t in the living room this time, but he didn’t risk making that much noise anyways, dumping his school stuff out to make room for the bottle rockets. The pump was out by the garage, so he can just carry that instead.

Finney walks back outside, making sure to close the door. Robin holds up the bicycle pump in his left hand as Finney makes his way over.

“Come on, hurry up slowpoke! I already got the pump!”

Finney nudges at his shoulder playfully, and they turn to head in the direction of the fields.

The fields was a part of the park where Finney sometimes came to practise his baseball. The park was huge like that, and this part of it wasn’t all that frequented by people, which meant Finney didn’t have to worry about the bottle rocket hitting anyone by accident.

Robin volunteered himself to fill up the bottles at the water fountain, leaving Finney to wait with Griffin. Griffin was sitting down on the grass, picking at it and tossing it aside as the grass is uprooted. The boy looked alright despite the incident yesterday, like he’s already gotten over it.

Finney’s not sure if he actually is or if he’s just pretending.

“I didn’t tell my mom.”

Finney looks down at Griffin, who is looking up at him with a piece of grass still between his fingers.

“Excuse me?”

“About yesterday. I didn’t tell her.”

Finney’s eyes widen, and then his brows furrow as he stares at Griffin.

“Why not?”

Griffin only shrugs, going back to picking at the grass. “I don’t know. Didn’t wanna worry her.”

Finney frowns, and he lowers himself to the ground next to Griffin. “You should at least notify her. Or the police. Get them at least aware at the very least.”

“It’s not like anyone would have looked for me. Nobody cares I exist except my mom. Would’ve just disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Finney stares at him, and in a brilliant moment of impulse, smacks Griffin upside the head. Not hard, but enough to make a point.

“Ow!”

“Griffin, I know we’ve only known each other for less than 24 hours but I will not tolerate badmouthing yourself.”

“You didn’t even know me until I ran into you!”

“So? You ran into me, and now I, Finney Blake, have the obligation to keep you from thinking you’re alone now. Robin too.”

Griffin huffs in what sounded like annoyance, but the faint twinkle of amusement in his eyes was enough for Finney to smile back at him.

Robin comes back with both the bottles, setting them on the ground. “I’m back.”

“Perfect.” Finney pulls out the corks he was keeping in his pocket and pops them in. He stabs one of the rockets with the pump, then turns it upside down on the cardboard fins. He pulls the pump a little to the side, then starts counting down under his breath.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…” Finney began pumping the bike pump as fast as he can, until the bottle suddenly shot upwards, spraying water all over the boys. Robin whoops in glee, Finney watching the rocket go with a grin on his face as he shouts, “Liftoff!”

The bottle continued spraying and flying in the air, the three boys watching until gravity finally took ahold of it and sent it to the ground, bouncing on the ground a few times. Griffin is quick to retrieve it, holding it above his head.

“That was so cool,” He says, walking back to Robin and Finney. Finney grins and nods, already setting up the second bottle. This time, he gestures for Robin and Griffin to begin counting, hands on the handles of the pump.

Robin already knew what he wanted, although he starts from 10, loudly chanting. Griffin was quick to pick up on it, hands pumping in front of him as they counted down.

Once they hit one, Finney repeated the process all over again. The bottle shoots up and soars higher, possibly even higher than the first one, the boys screaming and cheering at it.

As it landed, Griffin was already grabbing it and holding both bottles by the neck. “That was awesome. Could you do that again?”

Finney nods, already grabbing the bottles to pull the corks out. Once they were out, Griffin was already running to the fountains in his excitement.

Robin throws an arm around Finney, a smile on his face. “I like that kid already, Finn. He’s fun. Hey, you think he’s any better at math?”

“Robin, you’re not replacing me, are you?” Finney puts a hand on his chest with a soft gasp, Robin shaking him by the shoulder.

“Nah, you’re the only one for me. Nobody can explain it like you, Finn.” He pats his shoulder once, mirth in his eyes.

“You know it.”

Griffin comes running back with the bottles after a good minute, and Finney readies for yet another round of rockets.

Chapter Text

Griffin stuck by them more and more often as the days went on. He grew more and more comfortable the more time passed, and they learnt more and more about him. One, he likes oranges, but hates peeling them. Two, he lives with his mom and grandmother, and doesn’t know where his dad is. Three, whoever named this kid really liked animals.

There was also his tendency to hang in places. Not the ‘being there’ kind of hanging out in places, but draping himself over things and hanging there. Finney found him laying across a chair, his fingers touching the ground and head dangling over the edge. He greeted Finney as usual and never explained what he was doing, and frankly Finney didn’t feel the need to ask why. Sometimes, if Finney felt like it, he’d join him.

The world upside down is both kind of fun and a little nauseating. Finney can see why Griffin found it fun.

Robin hung out with Griffin separate from Finney as well, and was always happy to talk about their hang outs. Once, according to him, they had stopped by the park together and ended up chasing ducks before Griffin tripped and faceplanted in the dirt.

Robin only laughed for a second before he helped him up, he swears.

Griffin had told him he laughed longer than that because apparently his falling was just comical enough to garner a laugh track, but he still helped him up. 

They were at the park now, which sort of became their hang out spot. Finney and Robin would hang out at his house, or sometimes the Grab N’ Go, but the three of them found a home in the park to just exist together.

Robin had hogged one of the swings, swinging higher and higher as time went on, and Griffin had somehow gotten himself tangled in the monkey bars. It was almost like watching a dog pretend to be stuck in a fence and then pop free every so often, proving it was not stuck at all and just doing so for the entertainment factor of it. He could almost be a contortionist with how he managed to get himself up there. Finney stayed by Robin’s side, taking the other swing and moving at a slower rate.

“You know, we still gotta see Texas Chainsaw Massacre together. I asked Griffin, but he said no. It can just be the two of us,” Robin’s voice waxed and waned in Finney’s ear as he swung past him, 

Finney knew he was going to, it was Robin. There wasn’t any reason why he wouldn’t.

Robin continues flying past Finney, and Finney digs his heels into the ground, pulling himself back. He lets go once he reached as far back as he could go, kinetic energy pushing him forth as he swings his legs in time with the momentum. It doesn’t take him long for him to be in sync with Robin’s swings, pointing his feet into the sky. His gaze trails up to the bar above the swings, and his thought drifts to being able to swing high enough to pull himself over in a loop. It would take a whole lot of work, and he was barely even there.

It still felt like he was flying regardless.

“Hey! Hey what’s that over there?” Robin calls out, and Finney turns his head to Robin, following his general gaze to where he was looking. It was hard to tell really when the both of them were still swinging, Finney digging his heels into the sand with a rough scrape of his shoes to steady himself.

There in the distance was a black van. Finney’s attention immediately turns to Griffin, who was playing on the monkey bars like a normal person now instead of playing laundry on it, and he waves to get his attention. Griffin drops from the bars easily, jogging over to Finney.

“Hey Finney.”

“Van,” Is all Finney says in turn.

Griffin’s eyes widen, and he turns to where Finney points, and shuffles closer to Finney. It was pretty far, the playground not that close to the streets, but cars still remained visible. There, parked and lingering, was a black van. If it were any other day, where Finney didn’t have the memory of running, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it.

But it’s here. A black van, and Griffin at his side. There was no immediate threat. There was no person staring at them, at least as far as Finney can see. Finney can see words printed on the side, like it was some magician’s truck. He didn’t see that before, or maybe this could be an entirely different truck with a completely innocent presence.

That doesn’t explain why its parked here. There’s no birthday party here. Why was a magician’s van here.

“There’s no way.”

Robin comes to a slow, and he stands up where he blocks a bit of Finney’s view of the van, back to them. “That the van, amigo?” He asks, and Finney can see the faint tick of his hand, like he was going to clench it into a fist.

“I- I think so?” Griffin’s hand grab at Finney’s sleeve, Finney placing his hand over it and squeezing gently. “I was more worried about running, so I can’t say I was looking at every single detail.”

“Finn?”

“I think so. I think it’s just because it’s black. We should… go anyways.” Finney gestures away from the street, and Robin nods once, turning and grabbing Finney’s wrist as he starts marching through the park, right where his mark was.

Griffin doesn’t let go of him, and neither does Robin. Robin in fact doesn’t stop walking until they were well in the park, where he promptly parks himself on the ground. It was better this way. This way they were away from the streets, and it would be far too weird to come this deep in just for some kids.

Finney had a feeling even if whoever it was tried, he wouldn’t get away with it freely.

Griffin’s gaze kept looking behind him before Robin grabbed his pant leg. “Ay, no more. If he comes, he comes. But there are witnesses. Risks are too high.”

Griffin takes a breath, his shoulders moving with the effort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. He’s one hijo de puta for trying.” Robin sniffs, then rubs his nose. “Think about something else. What’s your favourite movie? I like horror movies, and I’m gonna get Finn to watch one with me. I will!”

“Um… Comedy? I guess? Something lighthearted. I don’t think I could take horror.”

“What, too scary?” Robin wiggles his fingers in front of him, Griffin’s lips quirking into a grin.

“People always turn the lights off, it makes it worse! And then it’s just- Nightmares, man!”

“Oh, but that’s the fun part. Well, not the nightmares. But watching scary movies in the dark, where it’s just you, alone. Until…. BOOM!” Robin jerks forward, grabbing Griffin by the shoulders. Griffin squeals, and they both fall over each other, Finney breaking out into laughter.

Robin was laughing too, pushing himself off and grinning with his teeth bared. “It’s fun, I promise you.”

“Oh whatever,” Griffin says with a roll of his eyes, propping himself up by his shoulders. “You do you, I’ll do me. Capiche?”

Robin presses his thumb and pointer together.

They continued asking questions and talking to each other, Finney remaining nearby as they talked. His gaze trailed between Robin, then the grass around them, then Griffin, then behind them. There were others in the park, and it kept his heart settled, at least just a bit. Nobody was bothering them. He could hear the cars still, distant, but unable to come too close.

Finney wonders if he’ll just have to be on guard all the time.

He doesn’t want to be.

There was already a report at the police station. Robin had insisted on it, actually, even if Griffin hadn’t wanted to worry his mom. Finney had too, until Griffin accepted it. It may not actually amount to anything, but the seed had to be planted to grow even a little bit.

It was for peace of mind.

The police said they’d keep a look out, patrol a little more, so Finney hoped they would honour that.

A foot against his knee pulls him out of his thoughts, Robin leaning towards him. He’s got grass on his knees now, scattered around. “Finney, Griffin was wondering whether we could go get snacks at the Grab N’ Go. You got money on you, right?”

Finney’s hand moves to his pocket, where he can feel a few dollars shoved in it. “Yeah, I got some. You?”

“Course.”

Finney gets up, Robin only a few seconds after him. Griffin was the last to get up, but they were all heading the same direction anyways.

The walk to the Grab N’ Go was easy. Finney can hear the pinball machine going in the corner, but he doesn’t look over. He knows who is over there, and he knows there’s absolutely zero reason to actually interact with him.

Robin was already ducking into the drink section, and Griffin followed after. Finney split from them, going instead to grab chips and some jerky for them. Robin knew his preferred drink, they’d get the same selection every time without fail.

They regroup at the counter, and Robin smiles at him as he puts the sodas for the cashier. They split the cost, and set a quarter at the windowsill by the pinball machine without bothering the boy standing in front of it.

A peace offering.

Finney had started it, because while Vance Hopper was terrifying, he also didn’t bother anyone as long as they left him alone with his game. He also needed quarters. Vance was always seen at the Grab N’ Go, as if he didn’t exist anywhere else – Finney would have believed it if he only existed at the store, but he’s seen Vance at school sometimes, so clearly he’s not bound to one zone of existence – and it kind of reminded him of those tiny altars, or places of worship in general.

Regardless, people put offerings at altars. Soothe spirits and seek their protection. Or at the very least, a sacrifice to calm a vengeful beast.

This wasn’t the same thing, but it held a similar energy. Vance never acknowledges them anyways. Finney doesn’t expect him to.

Oh, his dad would hate it if he found out he’s putting offerings out like this was a religion.

Gwen would probably find the situation amusing though.

They leave the Grab N’ Go, Griffin cracking open his can right there and taking a large sip. Robin holds onto the rest of the drinks and the snacks in the bag. They only start digging into it halfway through their walk.

Destination was not on their minds, just companionship.

“He got in a good hit, huh. Tch.”

Finney shrugs, Robin dabbing a cold towel to Finney’s eye. Moose had found him after lunch, because Finney had taken the last roll of bread. That was enough for him to corner him in the halls, and Finney had barely ducked away from the full on fight he was sure was coming.

Barely.

The bruise throbbed, but the cold was helping at least a bit.

“You need to stand up against him. He can’t be punching you over bread. Who punches people over bread?”

“Moose did.”

“Yeah well you’re stronger than he is.” Robin moves the towel a little, Finney hissing at the pressure. “Sorry, Finn. But I’m not kidding. You got the power, I believe in you.”

Finney snorts, Robin knocking his knuckles in Finney’s shoulder. “I’m serious, Finn!”

“I know you are, Robin. I know.”

Robin pulls the towel away and drenches it in the sink again, wringing it out and handing it to Finney to hold himself. “I’m gonna punch him back.”

“Robin you can’t keep offering to fight everything.”

“Yes I can. Look at these guns.” He flexes his arm, Finney’s face cracking into a smile.

“Uh huh, big gains.”

“The biggest. One day I might be as strong as a bear.” Robin puts his arm down. “But seriously. I’ll teach you, you know.”

Finney tilts his head, blinking with his one visible eye at Robin. “Teach me what?” He says, even though he does knows what Robin was saying. He wanted to show him how to fight. It wasn’t a strength issue, Finney knows Robin knows he’s got strength in him. He just… freezes, sometimes. Hurting another person just…

It wasn’t as natural for him to willingly lay his hands on another person.

He didn’t want to. It wasn’t wrong of him to. Robin was Robin, Finney was Finney. That was that.

“At least I can help you defend yourself. Keep those bullies off you.” Robin crosses his arms, eyes hard. “Then they’ll never touch you ever again. Nobody will.”

Finney gives him a short nod, and the conversation ends there as they leave the bathroom.

He might take him up on that offer soon. Just in case.

Just in case.

Chapter Text

Gwen had gotten in trouble with their dad again. She had a dream, and she had spoken too loud while she and Finney were huddled around the table, cereal and buttered bread in front of them.

Finney spent the morning by her side, rubbing her back. Their dad hadn’t hit her up there, just the typical corporal punishment at her behind, and it was not even as long as usual.

It still hurts.

“Susie’s gonna be out of town for the weekend,” Gwen tells him as they sit in front of the TV.

“Oh, sucks.”

Gwen shrugs, picking at the edge of her skirt. “Yeah. But that’s okay. How are you and the others? You said you were gonna go shoot rockets with Robin a few days ago, right?”

“Pretty good. We had to dig my rocket out of the park bin. By we I mean we made Griffin do it.” The retrieval was down to a rock scissors paper three-way, so it was absolutely fair. It wasn’t like the bottle went in that deep, so Griffin wasn’t diving head first into a bin.

They weren’t mean, they just… really did not want to stick their hand in the park bin. Who knows what smells could hit them.

Griffin had complained about it, so it must’ve been bad, and they apologised with letting him shoot a rocket off. He forgave them after.

Gwen laughs a little, Finney giving her a small smile in return.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Finney.”

“Thanks. Are you happy too?”

Gwen nods, Finney pulling her close and rubbing her shoulder before letting her go.

They sit in silence, a cartoon mindlessly playing in front of them. Finney wasn’t particularly watching it, but Gwen seemed at least semi-interested, so Finney stays by her side. He hears the front door open and then shut. Dad left, which meant they were alone now. Finney didn’t have plans today, so he was fine sitting with Gwen.

He waits until the commercial break to talk again. “So, your dream.”

Gwen tenses, head turning to look behind her, then to Finney. She leans closer, dropping her voice even though dad wasn’t even home. “What about it.”

“You said something about a van. You know, the van.”

Gwen nods slowly. “Yeah, the van. It was driving down the street unbearably slowly. And there were black balloons. Then there was… you know the paperboy? Comes down our street, the one with the dog that we saw with a stick in its mouth that one time?”

Finney knows what she’s talking about. Sometimes they were both awake too early to do anything, and would sit and stare out the window together to watch the sunrise. It meant they sometimes saw the paperboy biking past. It wasn’t always the same boy, but the one they saw most of the time had a dog. A golden retriever who ran alongside the paperboy’s bike. Gwen had said once that it was amazing the retriever didn’t, well, retrieve like they’re bred to do. Finney just thinks it’s because the dog is behaved and knows that the rolls of newspaper that was being thrown was not meant to be fetched and returned to the paperboy.

The dog was still a dog though, and the siblings got a good quiet laugh when they saw the dog trotting a few paces behind the paperboy with a very large stick in its mouth instead of right beside him.

“He was in your dream?” Finney asks, eyebrows furrowing. The fact that the van was in Gwen’s dream, much less the paperboy, was already a cause for concern. He wonders if he could warn him in some way. Finney had no clue how he’d do that though. It wasn’t like he could just walk up to him and randomly give him cryptic advice about vans. He barely even knows the kid, much less what he’d think about being approached so suddenly.

Gwen continues on, eyes focused on him. “He was. The dream ended there, but it still gave me a bad feeling.”

“Okay. So, premonition dream. Is that the word?”

“I think so.”

“Got it. This dream… it hasn’t happened yet.” Finney puts his hands together, rocking them forward.

“Not that I know of, no.” Finney hopes not. He’d feel terrible if he knew about this van and the victim and simply was too late to do anything. He wants to help him.

“Then we have time to see if it really will be as bad as it feels like.” Finney knows it will be. If this van was the same van that tried kidnapping Griffin, then there was a chance it’d get the paperboy.

Whoever this was, they sure were persistent.

“Did you see a licence plate? Anything?”

Gwen shakes her head. “Don’t think so.”

Darn, well there goes that idea. He lets out a puff of air, drumming his fingers against his knee. There was no other good idea popping up in his head, except for finding the boy himself and convincing him.

There was no other option though.

Finney spends the rest of the day thinking to himself in his room. He could learn the paperboy’s schedule, but there was no telling how much time he had before Gwen’s dream was more than some cryptic truth. Besides, Finney doesn’t even know what the boy looks like. It wasn’t like Finney spent every morning staring at paperboys, much less what they look like.

He knows one thing for certain: this paperboy has a dog. Lots of kids have dogs, they were man’s best friend. But a golden retriever was a pretty recognisable dog and if Finney tried, maybe he would see the dog with its owner. Dogs had to be walked fairly often, he’s sure of it. His neighbour down a few houses walks his mangy grey terrier up and down the sidewalk fairly often, and he’s seen other people with their dogs just in town alone.

If he even found the kid and confirmed it was the paperboy in Gwen’s dream then he was left with telling the kid about the van. Out of the blue it would be incredibly weird for the boy, especially if Finney had approached him just to tell him about a suspicious van. It was too oddly targeted, so he had to ease into the information.

But how.

Gwen knocks on his door. “Come in,” He says. The door swings open.

“Someone’s on the phone. It’s for you.” Gwen points down the hall, and Finney gets up and heads over. He’ll just have to put this on pause.

He picks up the phone where Gwen had left it sitting on the top, holding it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Finn.”

Finney smiles, leaning against the wall. “Hey Robin.”

“You busy today?”

“No.”

“Cool. My uncle found this really cool thing and brought it home. Wanna come see?”

Finney looks to the side, curling the wire around his finger. “Sure. Can Gwen come with?”

“Oh course she can.”

“I’ll be there in a little bit then. See you Robin.”

“See you Finn.”

Robin hangs up, and Finney hangs the phone back up. He heads to Gwen’s room, Gwen sitting on the ground near her dollhouse.

“Wanna come see what Robin’s uncle found?”

“Of course I do, are you insane.”

The object was cool, all things considered. The kids were all huddled around this lump of metal like it was some art piece or a really interesting fight. Gwen teased it might be an old nuclear bomb that just never detonated, and Robin said it could be the remains of a wrecking ball. Finney put in his two cents by saying it was the remains of a rocketship that fell from the sky and landed here in Denver. They couldn’t prove any of it, but it was nice to pretend.

Either way, they were all quite fascinated in the unknown object. Even when Gwen had to stop Robin from kicking it in case it really was a nuke.

Robin’s uncle was sitting nearby on the edge of the bonnet, smoking. He gave Finney and Gwen a hug when they showed up and messed up his hair but otherwise left them to stare at the strange object. “Adult supervision,” he had said when he sat and opened the tin box of smokes he kept on him.

It wasn’t like they were going anywhere with it. Finney’s pretty sure this could kill a man just by rolling it over his foot. It really did look heavy, and there was really nothing three kids could potentially want to do with a heavy object of unknown origin.

“Okay, but what if its from an alien planet and when we go to sleep it breaks open and destroys the world.” Robin prods the side of the mass, Gwen shaking her head.

“It’s too weird to be an egg. But if it does, you’re getting eaten first.”

“Nah, I’d beat it up and show dominance.”

“Okay. Finney, who would win: your soulmate, or a monster from space.”

Finney looks at the both of them, and with full sincerity points at the weird object.

A monster from space would decimate anything. Strongest boy or no, anything that can hatch out of metal had to be even stronger than that.

Finney absolutely deserved the full body tackle, and Robin jabbing his fingers right into his armpits. Finney tries to fight back, really he does. Robin was simply just too good at pinning him down and keep him from gaining the upper hand.

Gwen, the traitor, cheers Robin on. Finney manages to grab at Robin’s face, digging his thumbs into his cheeks. Robin cackles, shaking his head and pulling his head free as Finney manages to hook a leg around Robin. He rolls, Robin rolling with him. Robin grunts as his back hits the ground as Finney grabs his shoulders, leaning his weight on him and shaking him down into the ground, Robin grappling at his waist as he jams his knees between their bodies and pushes up in turn.

They continue to wrestle there, Gwen and Robin’s uncle as their only audience, rolling and getting dirty right there next to the strange object. Finney’s back hits the side of the object and they both pull off of each other, Robin sitting up and already reaching out to Finney to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Finney waves him off, the contact more of a light hit.

Robin puts his hand down and grins as he says, “I win. You held out pretty long though.”

“Thanks. You’re still tough as ever.” Finney holds his hand out, Robin slapping his own palm against it as they shook hands.

“Okay boys, up and at ‘em. As referee I say that was a dirty play, slamming your opponent against the wall like that.” Gwen crosses her arms, smiling down at the boys.

“Oh, no fair! I was only proving that I would so outmatch an alien.”

“If you say so, Arellano.”

“You are a cruel mistress, Gwen Blake.” Robin shakes his head at her, Gwen waving at him dismissively.

He grabs her ankle in retaliation, and then gets up to chase her around the yard and object. Finney watches them with a smile, cheering on them both.

Uncle Arellano hands them some water partway in, as well as sticks of meat for whatever reason. “Snacks and sunlight,” was all he said before shooing them back outside to continue soaking in sunlight. 

The sound of a dog barking catches his attention, turning his head to see a golden retriever bounding towards him. He doesn’t get a chance to do anything before it runs right into him, Finney grunting as the pooch knocks him over.

“Finney!”

“Finn!”

Finney pushes away the mass of fluffy fur to look up at his sister and soulmate now hovering over him, Gwen’s eyes wide with recognition compared to Robin’s worry.

The dog was licking at his chin, Finney shoving it off so he could sit up proper. The dog at least stops, tail wagging and panting instead. Finney stares at the dog, and it stares back, slurping its tongue back up and tilting its head at him.

Huh.

Robin was still staring at the dog apprehensively, but doesn’t move any closer to it. The dog wasn’t a threat to Finney, it just startled him. Besides, Finney kind of felt like this was some sort of magic luck on his side. This has to be the paperboy’s dog. It would make this entire thing way easier.

“Whose dog is that?” Robin asks instead, Finney brushing his hand across the dog’s throat in search for a name tag. He finds it, pulling it out to look at the tag. The address was engraved into the metal, as well as a phone number. There was no name though.

“We should call the number,” He says, reciting it out loud. Robin gives him a thumbs up and heads back inside. Finney and Gwen stay outside with the dog, the dog happy to flop over Finney’s legs and let him pet it.

The dog was a boy, as Finney quickly comes to find out. He feeds the dog a part of his snack, the dog eager to snap it up. The dog tries to eat the rest of Finney’s snack as well, Gwen laughing at him as he is left to wriggle out of the way of the dog trying to get at it.

She ends up losing a small chunk to the dog regardless. On her own terms, but the dog was quite a beggar and Gwen was not strong enough to fight against puppy eyes.

Robin comes back out a moment later, sitting by Finney and rubbing the dog’s back leg. “I called, and someone’s coming to pick him up soon. Said he must’ve gotten out the fence somehow.”

“Too smart for his own good.”

Robin nods, scratching the dog’s thigh and smiling when the dog’s leg kicks in place. “So smart he committed jailbreak for fun.”

Gwen nudges Finney, Finney turning to look at her.

“Do you think…?” She whispers, nodding her head towards the dog. Finney gives the slightest hint of a nod, Gwen huffing with a small puff of her chest in pride.

“Good.”

“Ay, what’re you two whispering about over there?” Robin leans over, both Blake siblings turning their attention to him.

“Sibling stuff,” They say at the same time, turning to each other and yelling ‘jinx!’ at the same time. They stick their tongue out at each other and leave it at that.

“Ah.” He nods briskly and turns his attention away from them, combing his fingers through the dog’s fur.

It was really soft, and very well behaved.

A bike rolls up towards them, a boy sitting on top as he whistles sharply. The dog turns and immediately dashes towards him, the boy setting a foot down on the ground as the dog barrels into him, wriggling in his arms as he held the bike between his legs. It was definitely the paperboy, his basket wide and empty for the time being.

“There you are, how’d you escape, huh? A criminal, that’s what you are. No loyalty.” He grasps the dog’s noggin, looking up and giving the trio a short nod. “Thank you for catching him.”

Finney raises a hand. “No problem. He ran into me, so it wasn’t hard.”

“Oh. Whoops. Sorry kid.” He nudge the dog again. “You, good sir, are a criminal.”

“Hey, I’m sure he’s a good boy,” Gwen says.

“He is. He is also a criminal of the highest degree. Come on boy. Thank you again.” He turns his bike around, and with a final wave pedals away, dog trotting at his side.

Once he was out of sight, Finney takes note of him as he pedals away. He’ll have to figure out what to do about the vision now that he knows which paperboy the van was going to target.

Turning to Robin, he opens his mouth. “Robin, you trust me, right?”

“Always will, amigo.”

“Okay. So it’s been enough time, and the van might change targets by now. And we think it might be that boy.” Finney points in the direction the paperboy left, Robin nodding.

“Got it.”

“You’re not gonna even question him?” Gwen questions, Robin shrugging.

“I believe in him.” Robin pats his shoulder. “We stick together, always.”

“Ugh, soulmates.”

“Don’t worry Gwen, you’ll live.”

“Ugh.”

Chapter Text

The dog was outside his house.

Finney stills as he stands there, the dog staring back at him from the sidewalk. It’s the same dog, he’s sure of it. The golden retriever wags his tail at the sight of Finney, padding over as Finney watches it.

Gwen comes out of the house only a few seconds later, also stilling at the sight of the dog.

“Isn’t that the paperboy’s dog?”

“I think so. Come here boy.” Finney kneels down, the dog eager to march up to him. He grabs ahold of the dog’s collar, looking it over. It was the exact same one. “Yep,” He says, standing up. “Same dog. How’d he find my house though?”

“Maybe his owner’s nearby,” Gwen says. Finney looks around, and he doesn’t see anyone around.

“Did he run away again?” Gwen questions, but then Finney hears the sound of wheels against the road. The pair look up as they watch the paperboy ride past their house, basket long empty. The dog barks as if saying goodbye to Finney and turns, running after the boy as if nothing was amiss. Gwen can’t help but giggle a little at the dog, shaking her head. “Weird dog. He likes you a whole lot, doesn’t he? If dogs could be soulmates with people, that’d be yours.” She elbows him lightly in the side, Finney rolling his eyes and walking ahead of her. Gwen matches his pace easily, not that Finney was aiming to walk that far ahead of her in the first place.

“If that dog was my soulmate, then I wouldn’t complain. It is a cute dog. But that’s not how it works.”

“ Nothing’s more close than a pet’s lifelong bond with their owner.”

Finney snorts. “True.”

They wave to each other as they head into school, moving to their individual first period class. Finney takes a seat, pulling out his notebook and sitting down, cracking it open to the first clean page as the bell rings.

School was fine, Finney passing through each class with the alert of each bell, long lectures, and work school imposed upon every student. It wasn’t particularly hard, Finney only mildly detached from the boring rhythm of it all.  Moose and his little band of bullies didn’t even bother him until lunch, when he was knocked into one of the lockers.

“Out of the way, slowpoke,” Moose sneered at him, the others laughing at him as they walk past. Finney glares at their backs with a muttered insult, brushing off his shoulder and continuing to the cafeteria. He had lunch already packed in his bag, so he heads directly to where he sat with Robin and Griffin. Only Robin was there, waving at him with his cheek stuffed. He greets him with his mouth full when he was closer to the table, Finney sitting down next to him and setting the brown paper bag on the table. He pulls out his sandwich, unwrapping it and ripping off a chunk, popping it in his mouth.

Robin swallows his mouthful, sipping at the carton of milk before speaking again. “I got news for you.”

Finney makes a noise to let him know he was listening, Robin continuing on.

“I saw the van again, by the Grab N’ Go yesterday. It was empty though, and there really wasn’t anyone in the Grab N’ Go ‘sides the worker so whoever’s been on Griffin’s tail they weren’t there.”

“No Pinball Vance?”

“Nah. Think I caught some twilight zone where he isn’t haunting the machine.” Robin bites at his apple and tosses the core back on the tray, loudly chewing. Finney lets the information ruminate for a bit, but doesn’t ask any further questions about it. He would rather not think about it. He was just a kid, for pete’s sake, worrying day and night about his safety shouldn’t even be at the forefront of his mind.

It didn’t mean Robin at least keeping an eye out wasn’t appreciated.

Griffin doesn’t show up all lunch, but Finney wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. He checks the boys bathrooms just in case, but they were empty.

Griffin was out on the playground when they were let out for recess, dangling on the actual swing bar that had the chains attached to it, his foot close to one of the latches that held the swing. Finney looks up at him, Griffin staring down at him blankly in return.

“How did you-”

“Shimmied my way up here,” Griffin answers, legs wrapped tight around the bar. He rested his cheek on the metal, balancing with an impressive amount of stability.

Finney had nothing else to really say to him, so he just leaves him with a quick, “Okay. Have fun then.”

Griffin smiles at him, Finney wandering off to let Griffin do his thing. He walked around for a while before he spots someone sitting underneath a tree. It was the paperboy. Finney shouldn’t have been surprised that he was at school, every kid does. It was simply the fact that he’s never noticed that he goes to this one.

Finney doesn’t realise he’s staring before he gets a stare in return, the paperboy sitting up and shouting at him to get his attention. “What are you staring at?” It wasn’t a harsh tone, but it still gets Finney to jolt back into his body, shaking his head with a sheepish smile and speed-walking away.

He avoids that general area until they had to head back inside for the rest of the school day.

Finney was in the park, practising swings on the ball field. He takes a deep breath, keeping his eye on the empty pitcher mound. It was a shame there was nobody around to help throw the ball for him, but pretending there was had to be good for now. After this he’ll probably take a jog around the park, keep his stamina up. He swings the bat a few more times until his shoulders ache a little, mentally tracking his stance and where his bat swung as he moved it from its ready position to over his shoulder.

His thumb runs up and down the grain, and resets. Swing, reset. Swing, reset.

He drops it a few times here and there at random, running the diamond without any intrusion to stop him. Technically as pitcher he didn’t have to bat, keep his arm sharp, but he didn’t mind batting a few times.

As he scoops up his bat from the ground for the umpteenth time, there was a bark, Finney startling from his focus and turning to the nearby bench.

The paperboy was sitting there with his dog, and just nods at him in greeting. Finney looks around, as if there was anyone else that he was nodding at, but it was just him.

He hears the paperboy snort, and he turns back to face him, raising a hand to wave. The paperboy copies him then looks down, running his hand on the golden retriever’s fur. The pup’s tail was wagging furiously, no doubt leaving a trail beneath him.

Finney doesn’t know how long he’s been there. Has he been watching this entire time? Curious, he calls out to him. “You know how to throw?”

The paperboy looks up at him again, then shakes his head. “I don’t play baseball where I’m from. So I wouldn’t know.”

“You don’t want to come up here and try?”

The paperboy shakes his head again, patting the bench. “I’m good where I’m at. You swing that pretty well.”

“Thanks.” He looks down at his bat, then up at the paperboy again, holding it out in front of him. “You sure you don’t want to try one or two swings?”

The paperboy shakes his head again, and Finney leaves it at that, going back to swinging his bat. However, now he was aware of the boy just sitting there and watching him with his dog at his side. It doesn’t affect his performance, not at all.

Definitely not at all.

He drops his bat after a couple more who knows how many more swings, rolling his shoulders and staring at the mound. He didn’t bring a ball with him, so he couldn’t practise pitching anything unless he fancied throwing invisible balls to invisible batter.

A ball rolls to his feet as if the thought of the mound had called it forth. He looks down at it, the fuzzy ball yellow and the wrong sport. He lifts his head to face the paperboy still watching him, dog on his lap. He points to the ball.

“You throw baseballs, don’t you. Mind throwing that for Harper?” The paperboy says, his other hand stroking the dog’s head.

“Why can’t you?”

“I want to see how much farther you could throw it. Just one time.”

Finney looks to the dog, whose attention was currently on his owner. He looks down at the ball, crouching down and picking it up. Almost immediately, Harper perks up, turning to Finney and watching his hand. Finney stares back at the dog, then raises the ball.

“You want the ball?”

Harper’s tail wags even faster, and Finney turns, throwing the ball across the baseball field. It soars pretty far, as Finney expected it would, and a blur of gold races after him. Finney watches as Harper speeds to the tennis ball, snatching it up and running right back to him, dropping the ball at his feet and wiggling in utter excitement at the initiated game of fetch.

There was a short clap of hands from the bench, the paperboy grinning. “That was great kid.” He gets up and walks over, kicking the ball towards him with his foot before he grabs it. He whistles sharply and tosses the ball across the field, Harper scurrying after it like it was the holy grail. The ball doesn’t sail as far as Finney’s throw made it, but it wasn’t a bad throw either. The arc was higher instead of simply straight forward as well, but Harper did not care about the semantics of how the ball was thrown, only to catch and return back to the boys. The dog drops the ball at their feet, the paperboy giving his dog a scratch behind the ear before picking it up, holding the tennis ball out to Finney with a hint of an amused smile.

“Want to go again?”

Finney looks between him, then Harper happily panting and waiting for the ball to be thrown again.

Well, he needed the practise. He takes the ball and pretends he was throwing a baseball instead of the damp tennis ball, winding up and throwing it straight ahead, Harper spinning and chasing after it. The dog went even farther than the first time Finney threw it before the retriever ducked his head down to grab at the ball, sprinting back towards them with an eager gait.

Finney ends up throwing the ball for the paperboy a few more times, with a few of the boy throwing the tennis ball on his own. Finney watches his form when throwing, which he blames slightly on watching pitchers on the TV and on the field all the time to copy their form.

It’s be weird to try to tell him how to throw better. This wasn’t baseball, this was two boys playing fetch with a dog. Yes, on a baseball field, but baseball rules weren’t in play here. Besides, Finney knows he can throw well, it simply was not a pitcher throw.

Harper eventually powers down after so many long distance fetching, panting and laying down in front of the boys. The paperboy kneels down with him, running a hand over the dog’s fur. “Alright, that’s enough for today.” He pulls out a water bottle from his jacket pocket and opens it, tilting the bottle towards Harper, who laps up the water eagerly. His elbow knocks into Finney's leg just from proximity, Finney scooting over a bit.

Finney, feeling as though his time here was done, slowly began moving away after a few more seconds of watching Harper hydrate. He doesn’t get far before the paperboy calls out to him.

“Hey, thanks for throwing the ball. Bye now.”

“You’re welcome! Bye!” Finney waves to him, the paperboy not even looking up to him as he grabs his bat and walks off.

He nestles the bat under his arm as he moves up to a jog, and he ignores the slight scratch in his wrist as the bat moves against his armpit at the motion.

Chapter Text

It was green.

Finney glares at the green circle on his wrist like it was just a piece of stubborn spinach that somehow stuck itself there.

It’s not like he hates it, he would never do that.

He just doesn’t know where it came from. He checked with Robin and Griffin if they knew, but their marks were the same as last time. So it meant only Finney has brushed skin with their soulmate.

If Finney had noticed it earlier instead of a week later maybe he’d be able to pinpoint the exact people he’s been close with. The mark was on his wrist, it should have been extraordinarily easy to spot such a vibrant, almost radioactive green on his wrist.

He must not have been looking hard enough. Finney must have just… mentally processed it out of his head. Like cosmic green was a normal shade to have among the other vibrant colours. Maybe he did see it and then got distracted it simply was labelled as Normal in his brain and never thought of despite it being present and very much there.

Man, at this rate Finney thinks his wrist is just gonna look like a rainbow palette. The start of one, the end of one, and the lemon-lime duo in the middle. He traces the green and goes around the dial, pretending to make a ringing noise with his mouth. He puts his hand up to his ear, thumb and pinky out like he was making a phone call.

There is no answer. Figures it wouldn’t work. He pretends to hang up, pressing his hand against the desk with a sigh. His head follows after, lightly thunking against the wood.

He pulls his head up and stares at the small marking, if it could glean any sort of clue. There usually was a clue. That’s the whole point of them, even if they were vague and required quite a bit of connect the dots.

Hah, dots. Circles.

Squinting at it, he couldn’t exactly say what it could be. His best guess was a diploma, which meant his next soulmate had to have been smart. A rolled up blanket?

This one was hard. It could have been anything else, but he gets some sort of odd rolled up shape. He huffs, flipping his wrist around and leaning back against his chair, face towards the ceiling as he stares up at it. He counts the pasted stars up there for a while, tracing the constellations up there over and over, trying to power wash his brain with something better than thinking about his wrist.

Well, the good news is that whoever they were, they had his mark too. That meant they had to know that he was their soulmate.

Maybe their diploma brain can figure it out faster than he can, he was stumped.

He sighs again, straightening his posture and pulling his homework closer to him. It was the only reason he even saw his wrist, because he neede a break from writing this short essay. He knows that so-and-so historical figure is important, but it doesn’t mean Finney wants to write an entire thing about it. It’s long and boring and he can only say so much before running out of steam on things to say.

Okay, maybe he is being a bit mean. He’s a bit stressed, give him a break. If it was something like an essay about how supernovas happen – That being they were the endpoint of a star that scattered matter unto the vast vast expanse of the universe filled with important elements that could jumpstart other things scattered in space – he’s have at least three pages done in a heartbeat.

But no, instead he gets to sit here and write about a person who is dead now. People don’t die cool starry deaths and scatter, they just die.

Sometimes they die cool deaths and scatter, but that’s rare and Finney does not want to dig too deep into that one. He’s got work to do.

Finney sits there, scratching away on the paper when a light rap on the door catches his attention. The door creaks open, Gwen peeking inside.

“Are you busy?”

Finney looks up, setting his pencil down. “I could take a break, what’s going on?”

Gwen steps fully into the room. “I had another dream. Well, not a dream dream but,” Gwen shrugs, “It was something.”

Finney sits up on alert. “Another one?” He asks, Gwen nodding and petting at her braid. Only one was done up, the other a wavy mess that hung over her shoulder like she was in the process of unravelling it. The vision must’ve hit in the middle of her getting them undone to go take a shower. 

“Is it about that van again?”

Gwen shakes her head no. Finney’s shoulders feel a little lighter, but he still listens to his sister intently on what the vision was about, because it was enough to come tell him.

“I saw your soulmate.”

Now this was interesting.

“You saw… my soulmate?”

Gwen nods, and she smiles at him. “Yeah. You two were hanging out together and I saw some sort of twinkle on your wrist so I could just assume. Do you want to know who it was?”

Finney holds a hand up, Gwen tilting her head with a raised brow. He faintly knew dreams were weird, even when they were normal, not prophetic ones like Gwen and his mother had, but seeing his soulmark – the kind that didn’t glow – actually emit light was strange.

“And you’re sure it lit up?”

“Well not light up, it wasn’t like you turned into a glowstick, but it was like…” Gwen pauses, lip slightly pursing. “Like… like when light reflects off of an oil spill.”

“That is a weird simile.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to describe it! But it was like that, okay?”

“Okay. So rainbow effect.”

“Mmm, no.” Gwen points to a green rocket that hung from his ceiling. “Like that colour kind of?”

Finney turns to look at it, then just motions Gwen closer as he juts his wrist out. “You mean like this colour?” He says. Gwen walks closer to inspect, then nods.

“Oh yeah, that colour! Wait. Wait a minute. Finney! You didn’t tell me you found another!”

“Believe me, I just found out half an hour ago and it’s definitely not from today. I haven’t left the house today and we both know it.”

“So you don’t know who it could be?”

“A lot of people might have brushed against me here and there, could’ve been anyone,” Finney says with a shrug.

“Maybe I know who it was,” Gwen says, running her hands across the braid yet again.

Finney gestures for her to explain, Gwen explaining her vision. It wasn’t as cut to the point as her normal ones were, more like random images that were composed right next to the other without a clear transition. Train tracks, baseballs sitting on the dirt, fences, the sound of running, seemingly connected but unconnected things.

Gwen tells them to Finney even if they sounded unimportant because it might be important in a weird sort of way, and neither of them want to leave out what could be an oddly important detail.

The important part was at the end, where Finney and this other boy were hanging out together, standing in a baseball field.

Finney suddenly stands up. “You saw a baseball field? You positive.”

“As a clam.”

“No. No way. Noooo way.” He paces around the room, Gwen watching him with confusion.

“What’s wrong Finney? You realise something? No!” Her eyes widen. “You know who it is!”

“Oh you bet I know who it is. The paperboy.”

Robin and Griffin greet him as normal as Finney slides into his spot at lunch, Griffin chewing on a pear and making his greeting much more muffled than Robin’s.

The first thing he does, of course, is catch them up on the new mark. 

“Woah. What is it? Looks like a carpet. Why is it a carpet?” Robin asks first, tracing the strange rolled shape. Griffin leans over as he wipes his pear juice on the back of his hand to get a closer look.

“Looks more like a weird melted heart to me. What’s this ribbon thing for then, it’s like halfway there,” Griffin says.

Robin grabs Finney’s wrist and twists it a little, turning his head the opposite direction. “Oh, I see it now. Corazon pequeño.”

“See? Melted heart. You have a melted heart. Oh, we’re gonna have a melted heart!” Griffin giggles, smothering it with his own pear and failing miserably.

“I thought it looked more like a diploma, but I can see it,” Finney quietly says, turning his wrist to see the funny shape it made. “But I know who it is.”

Robin and Griffin both look at him with interest twinkling in their eyes, Griffin biting down on his pear but holding it there as sticky hands grip the edge of the table in anticipation.

“It’s not confirmed down to a science, but I have a theory. It might be the paperboy.”

“The one that the van might be after? With the dog? That paperboy?” questions Griffin, his pear dropping onto his tray. Finney nods, Griffin shutting his mouth as he chews both information and pear.

“Ohhh, so Gwen is just collecting visions about us then? Coincidences,” Robin frowns. “Van’s targeting him too. Well, all the more to stop it, huh?”

“Definitely.” It was already weird enough it targeted two of his soulmates, but it really couldn’t be worse. It had to just be horrendously bad luck.

“Man, once I get my hands on whoever this is-”

“Robin, enough.”

“Ahh boo, you ruin the fun Finn.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt is all.”

Robin smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Aww, Finn.”

Finney rolls his eyes back at him and hands him his cup of tangerine slices, Robin happily snatching one up and popping it in his mouth.

Finney hunts him down at recess the minute they’re let out for recess. Robin and Griffin are at his side because he might as well make it easier for all of them and to prove that what Gwen had seen was real.

The boy was underneath the tree again, pulling at the grass and whistling through it before repeating the process. He looks up at them, and this time raises a hand in greeting.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” Both Robin and Finney say the same time, which makes Robin chuckle and Finney sputter a bit. Griffin bursts into a short bout of giggles.

The paperboy looks to Griffin then back at Robin and Finney. “What is it?”

“Look, it’s better if I show you,” Finney says, turning his wrist over and showing him. “Is this yours?”

The paperboy stares and stares, then looks up at Finney. “Well no wonder my back itched.”

“Oh, so you didn’t…,” Finney trails off.

The paperboy just shrugs. “It’s in a weird spot and it stopped itching after a while.”

“You weren’t curious?” Griffin says, the paperboy shaking his head.

“It was in a weird spot,” He reiterates. “So is that all?”

“Well. No. There’s more,” Finney says, putting a finger on the red and yellow marks. “Robin and Griffin’s. We’re all soulmates.” He lifts his hand to point at the three of them.

“Ah. Robin, Griffin, and…?”

“Finney. I’m Finney. Nice to meet you.”

“Finney. Got it.” He stands up, flicking the current blade of grass he had been pinching between his fingers. “Billy, paperboy.” He holds his hand out, Robin the first to clasp hands and give him a firm handshake.

“Nice to finally put a name to that face!” Robin says, letting go as a swatch of green fills into his shoulder. Griffin is the next to go, Finney knowing exactly when his comes in when the boy goes to scratch at it. Billy makes no move like he could feel his getting itchy, and Finney can’t help but wonder what it felt like to have two soulmates one after the other, if it was the same level of tingling or if it doubled.

It must not actually feel bad if Billy just seems to shrug it off.

“You wanna come play with us on the swings? Recess is almost over.” Griffin points to the playground, the swings empty for the time being.

Billy look over. “Sure, why not.”

“Great. Bet you I can swing higher.”

“Bet you can’t.” Billy is already heading that way, Griffin quick to be on his heels. Robin and Finney follow.

“Can too.”

Robin turns to Finney, whispering only just a little quietly. “My bets on Griffin.”

“Me too.”

Billy turns to look at the pair with a soft glare, and the two boys immediately grin back with absolutely zero guilt in their eyes.

Chapter Text

They were hanging out more now that they knew each other’s names. Billy didn’t hang out nearly as much as Griffin did around them, but Billy had other matters to attend to. Finney understood, Billy being generally more responsible and having an actual job compared to them, and he did at least try to come play when he could, mostly with Harper in tow so that they could play a game of fetch again. Griffin was ecstatic to split his time between another one of his soulmates and therefore new friend, and seemed to have gotten himself roped into helping Billy walk Harper sometimes. Finney laughed when Griffin regaled a tale of the dog accidentally bowling him over once just because the dog was happy to see him and then giving him a mess of apology licks to the point Billy had to wipe his face down with a towel from how slobbery it got.

Griffin didn’t seem to mind at all, although he complained of the doggy breath he was subjected to.

Nowadays when Finney woke up early enough, Billy would actually say hi to him as he went by. Gwen had given him a curious look the first time it happened, but understood nonetheless.

He integrated just fine into their group.

A week later, they were eating ice cream together, walking down the streets. Harper walked alongside them, Billy keeping a hold on the pooch’s leash with the loop draped on his wrist and holding his ice cream in the same hand. Robin had launched into a talk about school partway after paying, just to fill up the silence.

“And then there was a pop quiz just sprung on us and I was not prepared in the slightest amigo. I don’t even know if I answered it all right. I bet you were prepared though huh Finn?” Robin waved his chocolate fudge popsicle in Finney’s direction, Finney offering a shrug in return.

“I did okay I think.”

“You’re smart though. It would’ve been a breeze for you. What about you, Billy? How well do you think you did?”

“I don’t have that class.”

“You don’t?”

Billy shakes his head. “No, I have Ms. Breyer.”

“Huh. Well lucky you.” Robin sticks his ice cream back in his mouth, loudly sucking on it.

They turn the corner, and a squirrel scurries onto the sidewalk, nose twitching.

Harper barks at the critter, and that’s the only warning the dog gave before he darts forwards, the squirrel scurrying off. Harper gives the end of the leash a good tug, Billy grabbing at the leash’s end despite the ice cream occupying it. He wasn’t fast enough though, as the loop slips out and knocks his ice cream to the ground, the golden retriever dashing off.

“Hey! Harper come back! Oh you criminal!” Billy shouts after the dog, whistling and sprinting into a run. The other three just watch Billy chase after Harper.

Should they go and help? Probably.

Do they? Absolutely not. Finney felt a little bad though, so he does at least pick up the pace and whistles for the dog. There is no guarantee it works, but Harper seemed oddly attached to him judging by the previous times the dog seemed to track him down like a bloodhound.

Third time was not the charm though, and Billy continues to run down the street. The squirrel darts up a tree, Harper barking and planting his paws on the bark. Billy finally catches up, grabbing the leash and jerking it back.

“You’re an absolute menace, Harper. Truly,” Billy scolds. Harper turns and nudges against Billy as if in apology, Billy glaring down at the dog before sighing and patting his head.

Finney, Robin, and Griffin soon catch up, Robin tossing the wooden stick aside and licking at the remnant of ice cream on his lips. “You really just can’t keep him beside you, can you?”

“Oh, he can if he wants to, but sometimes he intentionally decides not to.” Billy grabs ahold of Harper’s snout, rocking it back and forth. Harper responds with a playful lick to his digits. “Can’t stick by my side to save my life sometimes.”

“And they say man’s best friend. Harper you gotta keep up and prove you’re a best friend.” Griffin taps Harper right on his little wet nose, Harper barking in reply.

“Man’s best runaway more like it.”

They continue walking along, Harper back to walking pleasant besides his owner for a couple more blocks. There’s no talking between them, Griffin initiating a silent game of hopping over every crack with Robin.

They pass by a few houses, even over some train tracks where Robin tried to balance on the rails with Finney holding his hand to help him balance.

Another couple of houses later, they see it.

There was a van up ahead, a stray balloon floating out of an open window. It was coming towards them, unbearably slowly.

Just like Gwen’s dream.

Griffin’s squeak pulls him out of his thoughts before Finney is yelling at Billy to turn and run.

“What? Why?”

“Come ON!”

Billy blinks once, twice, then turns and runs with them in the opposite direction. Harper barks, rushing right between them and keeping pace like it was just any other morning.

The van speeds up ever so slightly, and Finney can feel a chill run down his neck. Robin jerks his head to the side, and they all rush to the left. Griffin grabs onto Finney’s hand, and he squeezes back.

“What’s going on, why are we running?!” Billy managed to shout.

“Listen we’ll explain after!” Robin shouts back, and they can hear the rumble of tires against the gravel behind them. This was an unfamiliar street, so they couldn’t just duck into a house.

They had to keep running. Who knows if this kidnapper was brave enough to try a group. He hopes he doesn’t. There was no way he was stupid enough.

The audacity would be too grand. Too many risks, and Finney wasn’t about to go down without a little fight. Robin definitely would not.

The driver seemed to just be too persistent however. It followed them down the streets, no matter where they turned. The van didn’t speed up in the slightest, even though Finney knows it can. It could.

It doesn’t.

“The Grab N’ Go! Can’t get us in there!” Billy says, and they all rush towards the glass door, swinging it open and cramming inside.

The lady behind the counter looks up at them with a bored expression, eyebrow raised before looking down at what seems to just be a crossword. 

Griffin is the first to turn and stare outside, the van slowly drifting past. Far too slowly, before it speeds up and away. Finney pulls Griffin closer to him, and the store is filled only by the sharp sounds of the pinball going in the corner and the buzzing of the freezers.

Billy takes a deep breath, then narrows his eyes. “Okay, just what was going on,” He says, turning to them.

“That van was the same one that almost got Griffin.”

“What, like…. A kidnapping?”

“Hundred percent.” Robin waves a hand in the air. “And Finn had a feeling it could’ve been you next.”

“And you just knew this?”

“Long story, but you gotta believe me,” Finney pleads.

“Look, I-” Billy glances out of the glass doors, then back at Finney. “I don’t know what just happened, or even if what you said was… real, but that van had been following us weirdly slow.”

“I’m telling you, it wanted to catch us! Or, at least, you? And we did tell the police, so,” Robin says.

“Tch.” Billy runs a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground. Harper nudges against his hand, tail wagging and thumping against the floor. “Well this sure is settling my nerves. Okay, so weird van that is just suspiciously stalking kids. Fun. Aaand none of you saw a plate?”

The three of them shake their head. Finney didn’t see one on the front bumper even when it was slowly approaching. It was like the van just removed them just to look too inconspicuous.

“Great,” He mutters sarcastically, a darkness in his gaze. “Just great.”

“You’re not mad, right?” Griffin asks, eyes worried. Billy shakes his head, patting Griffin’s shoulder.

“No. Not mad. No reason to.” He squeezes once, Griffin jerking his head in a nod as Billy takes his hand back.

“Guess we’re filing another report, huh?”

“Course we are. Twice this happened! In front of us! I want to show this- This kid grabbing idiot what for.”

“He hasn’t grabbed anyone yet , Robin.”

Robin responds with a dramatic gesture at the empty lot outside and then at all of them standing in the Grab N’ Go after running from the van of their nightmares. Which, he has a point. He hasn’t yet, but only because they keep running away.

Who knows when the tactic would fail. There’s no missing poster up, so it was working so far.

Ah, he shouldn’t jinx it by thinking about it.

“Should we be discussing this in the Grab N’ Go? What if someone hears-” Griffin says just as a loud snort cuts him off, four head turning to Vance in the corner.

Oh, right. Him. Vance doesn’t even turn around to look at them, just facing the pinball machine and digging around in his pocket.

“You guys are talking too loud. Shut up back there.”

“Sorry,” Griffin pipes up, and he gets nothing in response, Vance roughly slamming another quarter into the pinball machine instead of answering him.

“Ah, good ol’ Vance.” Billy mumbles under his breath, Harper huffing as if agreeing.

They stand around in the Grab N’ Go if only to calm down and collect themselves before heading outside, Finney digging out and setting a quarter on the windowsill before joining the rest.

He barely notices blue eyes glance at him curiously before they’re all heading away. Finney catches a glimpse, but he pushes it away before he thinks too hard about it.

They stick together, but the van is nowhere to be seen now. It wasn’t a hallucination, he’s sure of it.

It must have given up for the day, the coward.

They drop Billy off at his house before heading to Finney’s. Griffin was apparently staying at Robin’s for dinner so they were heading there together. It was pozole, by the sounds of it. Griffin’s never had it, so Robin’s taken it upon himself to ‘upgrade his palette like he did with Finney’. Finney laughs at the excitement radiating off of his friends, Griffin’s eyes practically twinkling stars as Robin explains the dish right there at Finney’s front door.

Finney bids them until next time and heads inside, ignoring the tang of alcohol that stings his nose the moment he walks in.

He sees Gwen sitting at the kitchen table with homework spread in front of her, his sister waving at him. Immediately he approaches her, glancing back to check on their dad – the man asleep for now – before turning back to her.

“It was today.”

“With the paperboy?”

“With the paperboy. Your dream didn’t tell you we’d all be there. Do you know how freaked Griffin was?”

Gwen shrugs. “Must have left it out. Got out safely though, right?”

“Uh huh. Could’ve warned me first.”

“Lucky him though, got the best protector in the world to warn him.” Gwen smirks, folding her arms in front of her and resting on the edge of the table. “And I did warn you. I told you it was gonna happen in the first place, didn’t I?”

Finney playfully glares at her, ruffling her hair to her dismay. Gwen squeals, quiet enough just in case of waking up their father before tackling her brother and rubbing her palm against his head as well, Finney breaking into soft laughter.

They sit down together after a while, Gwen pointing out a difficult question for Finney to look over as they begin completing her homework.

Chapter Text

Griffin stares at the street, a bowl of cereal on his lap. He stirs the cereal floating in the orange juice, the sun not even risen at this point in time.

He takes a bite, the sharp tang of orange hiding the bland cereal as he swallows. Nobody was around to judge him.

It was a nice day today. A Saturday, which meant he had nothing to do. By all means he was free to do whatever he wanted. Just like he’s been allowed to do practically every other day of the year.

His mom didn’t really mind what he did, as long as he got home for dinner. He’s been sticking with Finney and Robin when he wasn’t at school most of the time. Made him feel safer.

After all, he was in danger. It was his fault, not having anyone to walk home with. He thought he could do it, he thought he was a big boy.

It was his fault he failed that the first chance he got.

If Finney or Robin heard him, he’d be reprimanded, for certain. They’re such good friends. Bonded together like butter and toast, or two cars in a particularly gruesome car crash to the point it was hard to tell where each car started and ended. Mixed homogeneously and impossible to separate unless forced.

Griffin loves that for them, he wouldn’t want to get in their way. He knows he’s to be a part of their lives forever, by the way they share the same soul, but there was something about them that screamed they’d be together even deeper than the rest of them could touch.

Of course, they were just kids. Griffin wasn’t expecting them to do something as nasty as do a smooch on the lips like on the TV.

Griffin still thinks they really, really like each other.

He takes another bite of his orange juice cereal.

Good for them.

Harper comes into view before his owner does, Billy pedalling on by with his basket full of newspaper. He waves at Griffin when he passes, tossing the paper at his feet before biking past. Griffin makes sure to wave back.

Wonder why the universe decided to make Billy a part of the dial. It was such an odd choice, bonding six whole people together.

What did they do in a past life that left them unable to let go of each other?

Griffin giggles to himself. He bets it was something stupid like all of them falling into a particularly deep pit together and just congealing into one massive slop of meat and that’s why the universe just left them as pieces of each other. Like the car crash.

He watches the road. There is no van.

He is safe here.

He tilts the bowl back, finishing his breakfast. Getting up, he heads inside the house. His mom and grandma were asleep. It was early for them. Griffin quietly slinks to the kitchen, turning on the sink and rinsing his bowl out, grabbing the sponge and some soap. He scrubs his bowl and spoon clean, then sets them on the drying rack. Easier for his mom not to worry about it if it’s clean.

There is nothing else for him to do. He pads to the living room, climbing up over the back of the couch and ragdolling, hands splayed on the old cushions. It was patterned with floral, something his grandma had always had. Griffin thinks it used to be a much brighter colour than it was now. Well-loved, that’s what his nana says. He thinks its just tacky.

But it was well-loved. He slowly pulls himself into rolling off the couch, landing feet-first onto the carpet that sat in front of it. He whispers a quiet ‘Tada~’ to himself, arms held aloft to either side of him.

There is nobody to see him.

The house is quiet. He is alone.

That’s okay. He’s home.

Griffin wanders around his house, counting his footsteps as he goes. 31… 32… 33… He doesn’t make a single peep as he walks. There’s no difference if he does, but he doesn’t need to bother the ladies with his own antics.

The sound of his mom waking up stops him, turning to stare at the door. His mom emerges only a minute later, Griffin standing there silently.

She just smiles and ruffles his hair as she passes him to the bathroom.

Griffin continues on walking, eventually landing himself in his room. He spins and drops on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. What to do, what to do.

He rolls over, spotting his jar of neat rocks. Ah, he knows.

Getting up, he grabs his helmet and slinging his knitted bag that his grandma made him over his shoulder before he heads out, waving at his mom as they cross paths.

“Now where are you off to, Griffin?”

“I’m gonna go rocking.”

“Oh alright. Don’t get yourself lost, you hear? And no wandering into people’s yards again.”

“It was one time!”

His mother waggles a finger at her son. “You gave poor Ms. Ricardo a scare. You’re lucky nobody calls cops on little children.”

“I said sorry.”

“That you did. Now off you get dear.”

“See you later mama.” He heads back out the door, strapping his helmet on and grabbing his bike lock.

Now, what was the code.

He tries 23 31 7 first.

Nope.

23 3 17.

That wasn’t it.

Griffin unlocks it third try, pulling his bike away from the small U-shaped pipe that stuck out of the ground and hopping on, pedalling away from his house.

The gravel beneath his wheels crunches as he pedals over it, Griffin pretending to be one of those olympic bikers as he flies down the street.

He turns the corner, zipping past a few kids on the sidewalk with chalk, forcing his bike to go faster and faster. He was a cheetah, zooming through the lands.

Griffin knows the best spot to pick up rocks. There’s a small creek down this road that sometimes dried up, and Griffin liked to stand in it and grab whatever rock he found pleasing. Most of his rocks came from it.

He stops just as he sees it ahead. He climbs off his bike, walking it to a tree nearby. The tree had a divot in it the way it grew, just big enough for Griffin to jam his bike in. Once it was in, he slides down the side of the creek into the valley in the middle. It was dry this time, so Griffin didn’t need to take off his shoes. He kicks around, eyes set to the ground as he slowly walks forward.

Sometimes he doesn’t find anything fun. Sometimes he finds a lot of fun things. Once he found a pocketknife someone threw down here.

Griffin didn’t take it. Just threw it as far as possible.

Today seemed to be the former, the rocks not cool enough to even put in his bag. There was a fallen bottle or two, which Griffin kicks aside.

He makes his way back to the funny tree, only to pause when he sees someone standing there.

He knows him. Everyone does.

Vance stares down at him blankly, chewing on what seems to be a bottlecap by the sound his mouth was making.

“Hell you doing down there shortstop?” He asks.

“Rocking.”

“What.”

Griffin pulls out a decent rock the size of his hand from the wall of the dried creek, echoing his answer, “Rocking.”

 “... ‘Kay, whatever.” He doesn’t move from that spot, but he does spit out the bottlecap right into the empty creek. It bounces a few times, the metal crushed up into a taco with teeth marks still in it.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in return, digging his shoes into the side to get leverage getting out. Vance doesn’t move to help him, eyes narrowing at him and baring his teeth in a snarl.

“Mind your business runt.”

Griffin ever so gracefully snaps his mouth shut.

Vance still doesn’t move, but Griffin takes it as a blessing from him as he goes to pull out his bike from the tree. The older boy is watching him, he knows he is. Griffin doesn’t know why he’s here, or what he’s doing. There’s the faint sound of a zipper.

He doesn’t look at him again as he gets on his bike and pedals away.

Griffin sees something black and rectangular as he turns the corner, and fuzz enters his ears as he pedals faster.

By some sort of instinct he ends up at Robin’s house.

Ms. Arellano was quick to let him in, hushing him and rubbing his back as she corralled him into the home.

“Robin no está en casa pero puedes esperar si quieres, niño pájaro dos,” She says. Griffin doesn’t know Spanish in the slightest, but her tone means well, so he just nods and lets her guide him into the kitchen. She pats his shoulder before opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass. Filling it with water, she hands it to him with a firm nod and a pat to his cheek. She leaves him there to calm down, walking off to wherever she had previously been before Griffin suddenly came knocking.

He feels bad for barging in, but Robin says his house was free to him since they’re friends and soulmates. One brother’s home is another brother’s home, or something like that.

By the time he’s finished the cup, the front door opens. Griffin hops off the chair and heads to the living room, Robin’s eyes wide when he sees Griffin.

“Hola amigo. What’s going on?”

“Got scared. Came here.”

“What scared you, huh?” Robin’s face draws into concern.

“I… I thought I saw the van.”

“Again?!”

Griffin nods, and explains what he was doing. Robin’s face looked malcontented, but it wasn’t aimed at Griffin judging by how he wasn’t making any eye contact with him.

“Maybe I saw it wrong, I was going pretty fast,” Griffin says. Robin shakes his head.

“Regardless, it scared you. Whatever it was didn’t get you, so. ‘M glad for that.”

Griffin smiles a little.

“Did you get any cool rocks?”

“Oh. No, not really.”

“Damn. All that stress and nothing cool to show for it. Hey, I don’t got anything else to do, you wanna go find cool rocks together instead?”

Griffin’s eyes widen, nodding eagerly. 

“After I eat then. I’m starving.” Robin goes to the kitchen, Griffin instead flopping on the couch and slowly but surely threading himself through the wooden armrest and sliding maddeningly slow to the ground.

The pair soon leave the house, Griffin hopping on his bike. He takes it slow this time, as Robin didn’t have one and just power walks next to him.

Robin was really good at that, Griffin teasing him by biking faster and making him run at random intervals. Robin cursed him out each and every time, but Griffin only laughs, making the boy laugh as well.

They stop at the park, Robin picking up rocks and other small trinkets from the ground to show Griffin. In turn Griffin would judge each thing shown to him, either shaking or nodding his head.

He felt like a king, Robin his most trusted knight or advisor. However it goes. Just for a little bit.

“Where’s Finney?” He asks as Robin shoves a palm-sized skipping stone into his bag.

“Baseball practise at school. I got back from watching him only to find you in my house.” Robin walks ahead, picking up another rock. Griffin looks at it as he slowly rolls past, then shakes his head. Robin tosses it away. “You don’t think that ass is gonna try again, do you?”

“The van’s already tried twice. It can try all it likes,” Griffin whispers.

“If he tries you or Billy again I’m bashing him in the nuts. See if he likes kids now.” Robin kicks in the air with a proud smirk, Griffin laughing.

“Yeah! Break his balls, Robin!”

Robin kicks the air a few more times, the boys laughing and joking together.

“Hey, and if you see that stupid van again, you can use these to break the windows!” Robin picks up what was clearly just a chunk of the sidewalk that had broken off at some point, holding it in both hands and pretending to bash something open.

By the time Griffin felt okay enough to head home, his pouch was full of rocks, most of hefty weight and making him counterbalance like mad to not fall over.

Still, the weight of them was enough to soothe him.

Chapter Text

Finney had been walking when he stumbled upon a wallet. He had scooped it up and cracked it open, but there was no ID or anything that identified the owner. It was one of those basic, gas station type wallets, the kind that just did its job and nothing more.

The wallet was also stuffed silly with money. A rather obscene amount for a ID-less gas station wallet. If Finney were a more lawful kid, he’d return it. He should return it, at the very least deposit it at the police station so that there’s that chance the owner would be reunited with it.

Except he kind of was hungry, and the wallet had no ID attached. By that logic, it was practically free game. Finney doesn’t take all of it, he’s not a thief, but he pockets a 20 and tucks the wallet in a slightly less visible spot in the area. Whoever lost it would just have to search a little.

It was just a minor pit stop on his walk to the pizza parlour, his original destination. His pizza money was in his other pocket, Gwen having been moaning about wanting a pizza lately. Finney was happy to feed her, and his father had willingly given him the cash for a pie. Whatever he wanted, even.

Finney was aiming for a simple pepperoni and onion one. Walking into  the building, he’s greeted with the scent of grease ever present in the air, as well as the smell of pizza. There were a fair amount of people at the booths and sitting at the tables, scarfing away at their pizzas. Finney walks up to the counter, the cashier giving him those manufactured customer smiles.

“What can I get ya?”

“One pepperoni and onion pizza,” Finney slides the money over the counter, the cashier taking it and handing him the change. He goes to stand to the side to wait, watching the windows as he did so. There was nothing of particular interest, but it was better than staring customers down or looking at the ground. Plus, he could just drift into his own mind for a bit and not seem too weird. Well, unless someone walked past and saw him just standing like a mannequin and staring out the window.

He’d make a pretty decent mannequin. Not a pizza mascot mannequin though, a clothing mannequin that got to wear cool clothes.

It’s been normal lately. Moose was still being an absolute wad with his little crew, but what else was new. Tests have been getting a bit difficult lately. Robin’s finally convinced Billy to not spend his entire recess sitting underneath a tree and actually come play. Griffin got himself stuck in the corkscrew and didn’t want to call for a teacher to come free him so his friends had to come push him back out of it the same way he slid his tiny body in. His dad was still drinking and neglecting his children, but again, what else was new. All of it was routine, things Finney could account for and not worry too much about.

A curled flash of blond pulls him from his thinking as Vance Hopper walks by the window. He stares as the boy turns and opens up the door, walking up to the counter and seemingly ignoring Finney. Finney still steps aside, just in case.

Interacting with Vance outside of the safety of the pinball machine busying his hands was not something he was keen on doing. Like, ever. 

Vance doesn’t seem keen on interacting with Finney either, just ordering garlic knots and a meat lovers. Finney stays as still as he could manage without making it look weird as Vance passes by him to the direction of the restrooms. Subconsciously Finney knows Vance isn’t like Moose, Matt, and Matty, but he’s still scary. He’s seen what Vance can do, and it’s way more dangerous to be on his bad side than on his usual bullies side.

He had a knife , for pete's sake. Finney can heal fine from fists and being kicked in the stomach, but a stab wound was a little more internal.

Finney wants nothing inside him, please and thank you.

As is, Vance probably wouldn’t go haywire on him as long as he didn’t go off track of what he usually did around the boy.

His pizza was taking far too long to be what is meant to be a simple order. It wasn’t hard to slap onions onto a pepperoni and toss it in the oven. Finney turns to try to peek into the kitchen, see if he could see his pizza being made. He couldn’t, even though Finney moves a little to the side in an attempt of a better vantage point. One of the workers come by with a pizza box, but doesn’t come in his direction. They slide it with a smile to a man wearing a long black jacket, who thanks them and turns.

“Oh, are you waiting for some pizza? What’d you get?” The man asks him.

Finney answers him, only if to be nice to an adult. “Pepperoni and onion.”

The man smiles, and it rubs Finney the wrong way, although he’s not sure why. “That’s a nice combo. I just have a normal cheese one, like a child. Haha.” He doesn’t say anything more, just staring at him.

Finney is uncomfortable. He looks away from him and to the direction of the restrooms, where Vance was exiting from. Vance looks at him, eyes narrowing, and Finney turns his gaze away.

The man is gone. He didn’t even hear him go.

Vance comes to stand near him, still not interacting with him. He was just another guy this way, but the aura was still present. Vance was always present in whatever he was doing.

His pizza comes out within the next two minutes, and he snatches it up and walks out, his heart thrumming in his chest. Vance didn’t do anything at all actually, but his body betrays him and pumps adrenaline regardless of the situation.

Finney doesn’t stop walking until he makes it home, stepping past a fallen bottle and bringing the pizza to the kitchen table. He sets it down and goes to Gwen’s room, knocking on the door gently. “Pizza’s here,” He says.

Gwen opens the door a few seconds later, and they walk to the kitchen together. Their dad was already there, slapping a pizza onto a plate. He’s red-faced, but he doesn’t speak to either one of them as they grab their own servings. Gwen goes to grab some glasses for them, filling them up with water. She brings them back to the table, Finney thanking her. Their father does so as well, but doesn’t actually drink it.

The pizza is good at least. Finney knocks down three of them, their dad scoffing.

“You better work off all that pizza at school, son. Don’t want you going around looking too tubby,” He says. Finney just nods mutely.

Gwen leans over and runs her hand over Finney’s wrist as a comfort.

Their father leaves the table a minute later, shuffling off to sleep off the pizza he ate. Finney puts the leftovers on his plate and breaks down the pizza box, Gwen covering the pizza with some aluminium and tucking it away in the fridge.

“I don’t think you’ll get tubby, daddy’s being silly,” She says.

“Thanks, Gwen.”

Gwen smiles at him, then scurries off, saying something about meeting Susie. Finney waves bye to her, then goes to his room to do homework. There was so many today, more than three papers worth of homework.

Still, he had to do it.

Finney doesn’t know how long he sits there, but by the time he finishes his science homework he feels like he needs to go do something. He stretches his arms above his head, yawning and groaning as his muscles are freed from the stationary position they’ve been in.

He stands up, looking around. There’s nothing else that needs his attention.

Finney figures he might as well go outside again, mess around in the park. Billy and Harvey might be at the park, he could play fetch with the pooch. That, or he could go play at the playground by himself for a while. See how high he could swing.

Yeah, that sounds good.

Robin comes by with Billy and Griffin in tow, waving eagerly at Finney. “Finn! Hey Finn!” He shouts across the field, running up to where Finney was sitting in the monkey bars. Billy and Griffin both disappear to the other side of the park towards the slides, Robin climbing up the metal rungs and pulling himself up to sit with his friend. “How’s it going, amigo?”

“Keeping on, keeping on. What about you?”

“Same here. Found those two coming up here, so I came with. Good thing I did if you’re here. Wanna race to see who’s faster going through the entire playground?”

“Like an obstacle course?”

Robin nods, kicking his feet as they dangle through the bars, leaning forward. “Start out at the swings, we kick off and race here to the bars. Then the platform, go down the corkscrews, up the climbing wall, up to the tall slide, and end at the merry-go-round. Winner gets to spin the other until he’s dizzier than a goose!”

“A goose?”

“A goose. Come on, Finney, last one is a rotten egg!” Robin jumps down from the bars, rolling and heading to the swings. Finney hops off after, going the safer route of dangling from the bars before dropping and following Robin. He plants his butt on the swing next to Robin, Robin already swinging. Finney pulls back before swinging as well, the two boys swinging higher and higher. The wind whips around the both of them, Robin counting down from five.

Finney retraces the path Robin laid out for him as he comes down from the swing.

Four.

He sees Billy and Griffin going down the straight slides, the ones that were next to each other.

Three.

There’s not much kids around save for a few playing at the other swings and a small group chasing each other beneath the structure, the sound of giggles in the air.

Two.

He wonders if Vance would have actually done anything at the parlour, if he’s as dangerous as everyone says he is. If Vance even likes Finney because of the coins he sacrifices and won’t bother him.

One.

The pizza is burning off. His father has no say on what energy he pulls, he’s active. It’ll all go.

Zero.

Finney launches off the swing as it goes up, the same time Robin does with a cry of glee, and they land, racing to the monkey bars. Finney’s still faster, jumping up and grabbing the bars and swinging across them. Robin’s not far behind him. He and Robin storm across the platform to the squeals of the children underneath. Robin makes it past Finney and twirls down the corkscrew, then rushes off, kicking up sand as he goes.

He gets up the climbing wall like a spider monkey, Finney right at his tail. Swerving past his best friend, he sticks his foot in the hole meant to be used as a climb and hoists himself up to the platform where it led down the swirling slide. Robin crashes into him, and they both go tumbling down, the slide spitting them out at the bottom.

“The slide god has claimed two more souls!” That was Griffin, and Finney pulls his head up to Griffin sitting only a few paces away, bursting into a fit of laughter. Finney grabs a handful of sand and throws it in Griffin’s direction, the boy scurrying off.

Robin climbs off of him and races to the merry-go-round. Finney scrambles up and rushes towards the multicoloured contraption, hand outstretched.

The thing spins as they both hit it at the same time, pulling themselves up as it spins about from the kinetic energy.

“I win!” They both boast at the same time. They look to each other, Finney wrapped around one rung and Robin at another, and chortle.

“Aw, Finn, I was supposed to win!”

“I’m still faster.”

“But I got here first!”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

Finney sticks his foot out and starts kicking and digging his heel into the sand, the merry-go-round going faster. Robin tightens his holds, eyes twinkling.

“Oh no you don’t!” He pushes out a foot as well, and now they were both making it spin.

No winners means they both lost. It was only fair. They spin and spin and spin, no end in sight. There is the clunk of someone jumping on, Finney turning his head to see who piled on. Griffin just grins back, and the merry-go-round goes faster.

Billy shows up at the outer rim, watching them spin.

“Join us! Join us! Join us!” Griffin chants. Billy stands there for another rotation before he extends a hand, grabbing onto an unoccupied rung and going with the motion, running alongside it before jumping on. He stood unlike the rest of them, yet he kicked off with the rest of them.

By the time they stop, they’re all dizzy. Billy remains hanging on – although he was leaning over the metal bar, the other three just falling off and panting.

“What were you two up to anyways?” Billy asks, still clutching on for dear life as if he was still in the throes of gathering his bearings.

“Racing each other. I won.”

Finney rolls over to punch him in the shoulder.

“Totally won though,” Robin grins proudly.

“Griffin I won the race, didn’t I?” Finney turns to the boy in question.

Griffin shrugs, sitting up. “Robin did climb off first, who knows.”

“Terrible referee you are.”

Griffin mock gasps. “I wasn’t even aware I was refereeing!”

“How dare you blame Griffin for his poor poor observational skills. Not his fault the slide gods spat you out and didn’t tell him about the race,” Billy chides.

“Well no matter. We’ll settle this the old fashioned way.” Robin sits up, dusting off his tank top.

“A Texas Duel?”

“No no no. A rematch! Griffin this is your redemption.” He points to the boy, Griffin saluting him with a smile.

“Aye aye, captain!”

Chapter Text

It was raining bad by the time school let out. Finney glares at the sky like it personally offended him, but mostly because there was no news of a rainstorm and he wasn’t ready for one. He huddled inside the building with plenty of other students, some rushing out to their parent’s cars or being proactive enough to bring an umbrella to school.

Others just ran out with whatever they had over their heads. Finney would do the same, but it was pretty bad out and Finney was not risking a cold. Gwen was by his side, clutching the strap of his bag and similarly glaring down the sky.

“Rain rain go the hell away, come back another shitty day,” Gwen grumbles under her breath, clearly not meant to be heard by anyone. Finney still picks it up and can’t help but let out a soft snort. Gwen mischievously grins wider, and flips off the rain under her brother’s armpit. Finney pushes her hand back down, but it wasn’t like anyone would have saw them unless they just so happened to look.

Still, the rain refuses to lighten up. It almost even sounded worse now, teachers ushering kids back to call parents to pick them up if they aren’t coming by now. Finney goes to follow the group, hoping that his father was awake enough to get them.

“Finney! Gwen!” Griffin’s voice calls out to them, and he turns around. The boy comes up to them, a smile on his lips. “Are your parents coming?”

“Mm, I’m not sure if my dad is. He might.”

“Well, if not, my mom can drive you. We’re already taking Billy since he bikes here.” Griffin points at their other soulmate who was leaning against the wall.

“We’ll ask first. Thanks.”

Griffin perks up, Finney going ahead to where the teachers were letting the kids line up to call home. It takes a bit, but Finney eventually gets to the phone, dialing the number to his house.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings.

There is no response. Finney tries again.

It rings.

There is a click on the other end. “Y’llo?”

“Dad, hi. It’s raining outside.”

“I ain’t deaf. You two still at the school?”

Finney nods. “Yes. Could you come pick us up?”

There was a shuffle at the other end, the sound of glass hitting wood. “Would, but I’m… tired, son. Wouldn’t be safe. Ask that friend of yours to take you two.”

“...Okay.”

His dad grunts on the other end as if saying bye, then another click in his ear. Finney sets the phone down, moving out of the line and back out amongst the stragglers. Gwen was waiting outside the office, and walks with him as they head back towards the entrance.

“So?”

Finney shakes his head. “He was drinking again, he’s not coming.”

“So we’re going with Griffin then. Better than nothing.” Gwen goes on ahead, Finney right behind her. Griffin and Billy were still right where they left them, the pair looking up at the same time from where their shoes were shoved together.

“You coming with us, Finney?”

“Seems so.”

Griffin smiles, then goes back to comparing shoe sizes with the other boy. It doesn’t take long for Griffin’s mom to arrive, and they all rush out into the rain, Griffin giggling as they’re pelted by rainwater. Gwen beelines straight to the car, yanking open the back door and pulling herself in. Finney stalls only a second for Billy, who had his bike to deal with, holding his bag above both their heads as they rush to the car.

“Miss Stagg, where do I put this?” Billy calls out while Griffin slides in next to Gwen. Ms. Stagg smiles and pops the trunk for them, Billy hurrying to the back and pulling up the hood to dump his bike in. The boys climb into the back with the others, Finney pulling the door shut.

“Thank you for driving us, Ms. Stagg,” Finney says as he puts his belt on, Griffin squeezed between Gwen and Billy as they too put them on. Billy dumps his bag on Griffin’s lap, holding onto one of the straps as Griffin perches his head on top.

Griffin’s mom smiles, waving them off. “It’s no problem, anything for my son’s friends! Besides, I’d feel bad if you had to walk home through this storm, you’d catch your death out there!” She pulls out onto the road, slowly driving amongst the other cars trying to get through the storm. 

Finney watches the rain fall down, noting how strong it sounded as it thwaps against the car. He can barely see through the window from the amount of water flowing down, the sound like being in a car wash.

It doesn’t stop him from seeing the muddled yellow amongst it. He wipes his hand against the glass, then pauses as he realises he’s on the wrong side of it.

The rain parts just enough on the window for Finney to see exactly who he thought it was. Vance looked downright miserable, jogging quickly through the rain. It didn’t even seem to look like he had a bag on him to use as a temporary umbrella.

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was stupidity, but Finney calls out for Ms. Stagg to stop the car.

“What, what is it?” Gwen questions, leaning past the boys with her attention towards the window. “What is it?”

“I think that’s Vance out there.”

“As in Pinball Vance?”

Finney nods, watching the boy continue to jog before he’s swallowed up by the watery reflections. Ms. Stagg seems to have noticed the boy as well, as she flicks her indicator and drives closer to the sidewalk, Finney rolling down the window. Vance doesn’t stop, not until Finney shouts out.

He’s still not sure why he’s doing this. It was Vance. Local legend Vance, at least in school.

But as Finney stares at the rain beating heavily downwards like it truly wanted to pound the world flat, something was telling him to get Vance.

So he shouts out, and the blond turns his head so quickly Finney fears he broke his neck like that.

Finney doesn’t know why, but he waves a hand for the boy to get closer, as if Vance would listen to him and not just book it.

“Hey! You need a ride home?”

Vance stands there for only a second and bares his teeth in a scowl, then rushes up to the car, throwing open the passenger seat. Finney blinks in surprise that it worked, Vance slamming the door shut when he climbs in dripping like a pomeranian during a bath. It would be hilarious if Finney didn’t know who was the pomeranian in this situation.

Ms Stagg turns the heater on higher without a word and drives on.

Finney says nothing. Nobody in the car says anything, Vance silent and leaning towards the vent without a word. Finney looks at Gwen, who stares back with confusion in her gaze. Griffin seems to have shrunk slightly behind Billy’s backpack, and Billy seemed alright compared to the rest of them. Finney isn’t sure why Vance had listened, if Vance just did it because he wanted out of the rain more than care who he got in a car with.

If Vance did it because Vance knew who he was getting in with and still did it.

Ms Stagg pipes up only once for Vance’s address, and Vance mumbles something that is drowned out by the whooshing of the vents. 

Finney doesn’t know if he should ask.

He doesn’t get a chance to try before Griffin’s mom pulls up to a tiny house, and Vance’s hand grabs at the handle. Before he pulls, Vance just stares at the window, expression cool and neutral. Finney isn’t sure why he’s staring, or what he’s waiting for.

There’s the barest hint of a nod and another flash of blue meeting his eyes before Vance is out, slamming the door once more and disappearing into the house.

“Was that… a thank you?” Gwen asks as the car begins to move again. “Did Vance Hopper thank you?”

Finney’s mouth pops open, then nods with confusion in his eyes. It was the oddest thing to watch, experience even.

“You know up close he’s not that bad,” Billy comments. “Terrifying provoked, but he’s at least willing to cooperate.”

He was right. Finney knows Vance never does anything as long as he’s left alone. Mostly everyone knew to leave Vance alone. It was basic knowledge, there to see and not touch. Like a zoo animal, lion in a cage.

But nowadays Finney feels like he’s seeing that boy more and more. He’s supposed to haunt the Grab N’ Go, be in Finney’s peripherals and nothing more.

Finney definitely feels like there is something else going on.

He’s not stupid enough to bother Vance, knows it wouldn’t bode well regardless of what Vance seems to think of him. But he has a plan now, out of mere curiosity. If there was a reason Vance has been prominent.

Finney looks down at his wrist, spinning the imaginary rotary. There was no way. No way, right?

He’s never seen Vance’s soulmark before, even with his lack of sleeves and semi-stationary life that meant Finney could try to look for it if he really felt like being a creep about it. It just meant it was beneath his clothes, like a good amount of people had. Granted, he’s never seen Billy’s either, but only because it was in the ‘weird spot’ that he refuses to show them. It’d look the same as his anyhow so Finney really didn’t care.

Finney was not about to try to ask Vance either. That would be equally as creepy and all the more reason for Finney to find himself getting beat up again. It wasn’t his to pry. Vance can have his soulmate, whoever it was. That is, if it wasn't who he thought it was.

Finney fake spins the rotary again, then looks up at the reason he was here, the boy standing in front of his pinball machine through the window. In his hand was a sock full of quarters, grabbed from between the cushions and stray change he’s managed to pluck from other sources, including raiding the arcade floor for a time. Griffin had helped, happy to grabs coins off the ground with him.

It was enough a plea deal as any. A huge sacrifice for the pinball altar.

Finney enters the store, roaming the aisles just to look inconspicuous, although the worker for the day could not care less and Vance was deep in his concentration, the sound of him smacking the buttons the only noise.

He waits a full minute before he approaches. Vance doesn’t look at him, as usual. Finney stays away from Vance’s arms, just holding the sock and watching the small metal ball bounce up and down and smacking about inside the machine. He doesn’t touch Vance, not until the ball misses both paddles and dinks right through the centre.

Vance stares the machine down like it had hit him in the balls, then shoves his hand in his pocket.

Finney holds the sock up, and Vance turns to look at him, eyes narrowed. He tilts his head down at the sock. “What’s that.”

“Quarters. Don’t know how much.” He hands it over, and his fingers brushes Vance’s rough knuckles.

His wrist begins to itch, and he jerks his hand back the moment Vance takes the sock from him. It was all the evidence, regardless of Finney’s own feelings, that he needed. It’s clear Vance feels it too, hissing and slamming the coin sock down on the glass of the machine, turning away from Finney and lifting his vest as he scratches at his hip.

“Fucking- You-” Vance glares down at him, but there’s no fire. He doesn’t move other than holding his hand against his hip, fingers digging in. Eventually he just makes a face, rolling his eyes and leaning forward with a sneer. “You know what asshole, figured it was gonna be you. Shit.”

Finney blinks, shocked. “You did?”

Vance clicks his teeth, sucking on his canine when he leans back. “You and that tough Mexican boy, the one with the shoulder mark. I see ‘em all the time.”

“When?”

“Stop asking questions, cunt wad. I have eyes, I use them.”

Finney shuts his mouth, Vance turning back to his pinball machine. He tips the sock over, coins clattering against the surface. “This better have not been used.”

“It’s washed.”

Vance grabs a quarter and swipes the rest off, coins dancing along the ground. Finney watches them fall, noting none go past the corner that Vance occupies, Finney stepping on a rolling stray one to keep it near.

He doesn’t say anything more as Vance begins a new game, sitting on the windowsill and quietly picking up the coins and stacking them next to him. Little piles. 

Vance doesn’t say anything for a while. Neither party does. Finney watches people come and go, then down at his wrist, staring at the grey circle.

“Flower?” Finney mutters, and he looks up at Vance. His mark is a flower? Vance Hopper, one of the scariest boys in Denver, is a flower?

Vance seems to know what he’s questioning, as he grunts out a response. “Necklace.”

Finney leans forward, and on the woven choker he wore, there was the tiny five petal flower that matched the one on his wrist. It was weirdly sweet. He wonders if Vance has it because of his mark or if it was just mere coincidence. Likely the former.

“Huh.”

“Okay shut up now, asshole.”

Finney goes back to sitting and watching in silence.

“... So do you mind having three other-”

“I SAID SHUT UP.” Vance’s hand bangs against the side of the machine, making it rattle. The ball was still in play mysteriously enough, Vance leaning in more.

“Shutting up now.”

Chapter Text

Turns out Vance wasn’t that bad.

He’s sure it’s because Vance didn’t change his behaviour any more than Finney expected him to. He still haunted his altar, still occasionally was spotted at school like the super-eighth grader he was, still was seen around town like a cryptid.

All in all, nothing actually changed. Finney hasn’t gotten the others around to do any part of completing one more piece of their soulmark, nor has he gotten any news that they had touched Vance Hopper on their own terms.

Granted, he figured Vance had enough reputation to not constitute even the most accidental glance unless they feared retribution.

He’s shown Robin the grey circle, because Robin had thought it a smudge and licked his finger before rubbing Finney’s wrist, only to stop when it didn’t come off.

Robin almost didn’t want to believe it either, then melted into joking about how fate needed two fighters for so many people.

“It could be three, Finn! You’d be a good fighter,” Robin said, punching his friend in the shoulder.

“I don’t think I could.”

“Nonsense. One of these days you’re gonna have to stand up for yourself, and you’ve already been standing for us! Hey, maybe we do have three fighters.”

Finney shook his head. “You and Vance are enough. No way I’d be able to beat anyone if they were as tough as you two.”

Robin grinned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He sneezed, Finney patting his back. “Bless you.”

“Thanks amigo. But I’m serious! You’re ours, so that means you got a brave soul too. That’s how it works, and we’ll have your back. No matter what. That goes for the others too.”

Finney nodded, Robin leaning against him. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“I do, I do. But really, if I had to fight it has to be under very specific circumstances.”

“Like…. I won’t go to jail for it kind of circumstances?”

Finney snorted. “It better not come to the point where jail is an option. Like there is no other option kind of circumstance.”

Robin had grinned and taken that as enough of an answer.

Still, Robin hasn’t approached the boy yet. None of them have. They are aware of each other, he’s sure of it. It’s not like Vance was avoiding them. Finney still sees him at the Grab N’ Go like nothing changed, still offers a quarter every time to the guy.

Nowadays he actually gets a grunt of acknowledgement rather than pure silence. It was mystifying, being known by Pinball Vance and not coming back with more trauma than he’s already got packing.

It must have gotten into the gossip train as well, as people were giving him looks. Actual looks, like there was something about Finney now that warranted it. Moose and the others haven’t stopped bothering him, but they seem to be less willing to leave any bruise on his face now.

Less pushing and shoving was better than nothing, even if he got tripped still. And name-called. But nothing new. Just less frequent.

“Watch it, you freak.” Was today’s jeer, followed by a shoulder check into the locker. “Don’t be taking up the whole hallway, people actually want to walk here.”

Finney watches them go with a frown, then turns the other way, clutching the strap of his backpack tighter. He slips into class, the space empty besides him. He rolls his shoulder, then pulls out his notebook.

A bag slams besides him, and he glances to the left. He knows that arm, the black band that wrapped around that wrist.

He follows that arm up to Vance pulling out the seat besides him and sitting down with the same energy of a disgruntled alcoholic after a bad day. Vance pulls his bag to his lap, which was less of a school bag and more of a ratty large pouch that had several slashes and things poked through it and dug through it for a thin, well-used notebook.

Finney looks away, just in case the staring was too much for his soulmate.

He can feel more stares, the hushed whispers. Finney wishes they’d stop, Vance could have sat anywhere.

This didn’t mean anything just as much as it meant so many things.

The teacher begins their lesson, and everyone’s attention drifts off of them. Finney ignores Vance, Vance ignores Finney. There is no sudden partner work that they would have to do, nothing that would make them yet another spectacle. They just worked in each others proximity, like they were just two students.

No reputation to be seen.

Class ended, and people were quick to rush out, not wanting to stick around. Neither did Vance it seemed, throwing his notebook into his bag and pulling it closed with a cord. It was the only coloured thing on the bag, the same colours as the choker he wore, the drawstring clasp a black scuffed spade with a silver border.

“You’re at school,” Finney says.

“Yeah, so what,” Vance says, the chair screeching as he stands up. “You heading somewhere today? Plans.”

Finney shakes his head. He had no plans to go anywhere except home. Maybe practise his pitching more with games coming up soon, but there was no guarantee.

Vance huffs. “Well, you are now.” He says it with such confidence that it seemed like fact.

Finney raises an eyebrow. Vance continues to speak. “You’re taking me to your…” He pauses, then continues as if he spoke of a particularly annoying gnat, “Our group. Thing. Them.” He spins a finger in a circle. “They’re avoiding me.”

“Are they?” Finney knows they had to be, but it was easier to pretend to play dumb.

“I’m not playing tag with those assholes. You’re taking me to them, I know you hang around them for a reason,” Vance says, then quickly storms off. Finney stares at his retreating figure for only a second, then quickly packs up as the teacher clears their throat.

Vance is gone by the time he’s in the hallway.

He thinks about it as he heads to his next class, then figures it would be simpler that way. Finney’s not sure what happens if soulmates that came in groups didn’t complete their picture in full in a rounded manner. If it felt off when one soulmate has more than another did. Finney would not know, he’s been collecting his fine, just missing that last one between Vance’s and Billy’s mark.

He’s almost at the end, finding them all. He must be a soulmate marvel, finding them in such a short time at such an age. Especially with the amount there is.

Put him under a microscope, doctor.

The rest of the day goes normal, just more homework that he’ll breeze through once he’s home.

He walks out of the building to wait for Gwen outside when he sees Vance leaning against the wall, chewing on a stick. Up close he sees it’s actually beef jerky, Vance’s attention turning straight to him. The flash of blue makes Finney still, the intensity and muscle memory kicking in.

“There you are. Where are they?”

Finney blinks once, then shrugs his shoulders once his body relaxes. He knows Robin tends to come out late if it meant he can hang with Finney. He didn’t see Billy’s bike so he must already be gone, and Griffin’s post-school habits was entirely a mystery to him.

Vance scoffs, jerky between his lips. He tears it out of his mouth, waving it sharply in the air. Finney takes a step back, Vance still staring at him.

“You’re gonna have to take me to them still. So march.”

“I have to wait for-”

“Ready to go home?” Gwen pops up right beside him right on time, only for her face to fall upon seeing Vance. It turns instantly to a face of hesitation, but strong. “Pinball.”

Vance’s eyes slide over to Gwen. “Finney’s sister.”

Gwen’s arms fold, staring back. “So you know me.”

“See you near him all the fucking time, what the fuck else am I supposed to guess, huh?”

Gwen is silent, then nods as she changes the subject. “What’re you doing here?”

“Waiting for your brother so I can get this done with.” Vance suddenly grabs Finney’s wrist, his touch firm but not punishing as he pulls it up to Gwen’s line of sight. His thumb presses right in the middle of the dial, Gwen’s eyes widening. She turns to her brother with shock.

“Finney, you didn’t tell me that you-”

Finney groans. “I was gonna tell you, but how am I supposed to explain, huh?”

Gwen throws her arms up in the air. “Oh I don’t know, by saying ‘Hey Gwenny Pinball Vance is one of my many soulmates’?! You know, like that?”

Finney rolls his eyes. He was gonna tell her.

Vance’s grip doesn’t move, but he tilts his head to the side just an iota. “You ashamed?”

“What? No, just-”

The taller boy drops his hand, shoving the jerky back in between his teeth. “Don’t wanna hear it. Come on, march. Plan’s haven’t changed. The bitch can come too.”

“I am not a bitch,” Gwen says.

“Whatever you say, bitch.”

“Stop saying that please. Gwen, did you see Robin by his locker? Anywhere?”

“Hmm, nope.”

“Right, well then. First stop Robin’s house.” He steps down and to the sidewalk, Vance and Gwen in tow. He’s pretty sure they’re staring each other down, only hoping that they don’t start a scene.

Finney doesn’t want to have to separate that shitshow.

They make it to Robin’s house in one piece, Finney walking up to the door and knocking on it. The door swings open to Robin’s mama, who smiles at Finney. “Hola Finney!”

“Hi Ms. Arellano. Is Robin here?”

She nods, stepping aside for the boy to walk in. She greets Gwen just the same, although she just nods and smiles at Vance, who copies her action.

Robin quickly emerges from his room, still wearing the same clothes he went to school with, eyes twinkling. “Hey Finn.” His gaze quickly moves to the others, and his brows furrow. “And Vance. Hi Gwen.”

Gwen raises a hand in greeting, Vance already walking up to Robin. Robin stands his ground, giving Finney a brief look of confusion. Likely because Finney brought Vance Hopper into his house without any form of warning than any genuine befuddlement as to why Vance Hopper was here at all.

Vance makes it quick, just hold his hand out in front of him. “Nice to fucking meet ya.”

Robin grins back, slapping his hand into Vance and giving it a firm shake. “Right back at you, Vance.”

They hide the feeling of the mark filling in quite easily, Finney watching the blank circle turn grey with the tiny flower in it on Robin’s bare arm. There was no reaction from Vance this time, the boys pulling their hands away like nothing was amiss.

Robin still scratches at his shoulder, still grinning. “So why’re you following my friend?”

“To find the rest of you. Get it over with. Found one of you, and I know you’re all… Connected.” Vance’s lip pulls up.

Robin hums a noise of understanding, then turns to the kitchen. “You hungry? Can heat you up some chili.”

Vance just scoffs and turns back to the door. Gwen follows after Robin though, followed by the sound of Robin yanking open and shutting the microwave.

Finney stands there, right in the Arellano living room. Vance is back at his side as Robin heats up chili in the microwave, staring him down. Finney doesn’t flinch, looking up and shrugging casually. “Gwen’s hungry, and I’m not leaving without her.”

Vance continues to stare, but then saunters off to idly stand in place while Gwen gets her food.

He’s kind of astounded how easy it was for Vance to listen to him. Call it good blessings, he hopes.

Gwen gets a styrofoam cup of the chili to eat on the go, Robin squeezing Finney’s shoulder before letting them go.

It wasn’t hard to find Griffin.

A lie, it took a while to find Griffin. Finney had talked to his mom at the door, who told him that Griffin had wandered off like he usually does when nothing is tying him down.

So they had very little chance to find him. Vance had mentioned a ditch for some strange reason, but he wasn’t there when Vance took them to the spot.

Billy was much easier to find, laying in the grass with Harper tugging at the tug rope Billy was holding onto. Finney did his best in trying to get Vance to not just kick the guy and be done with it.

It only sort of worked. Billy wasn’t offended all that much when Vance instead knelt down and shoved him to the point he lost grip and Harper was absconding with the rope, although he did give Vance a look for it.

Billy pointed them to the playground for Griffin, even following after them.

The boy was, of course, somehow tangled inside the corkscrew, waving as the group came over.

“Hi guys!”

“Griffin are you stuck?” Billy asked, Griffin shrugging from his curly prison.

“Not really.” His attention turned to Vance. “Uh. Hi?”

Vance looks at Finney’s hand again, then chops Griffin in the head through the bars and walks away.

Griffin blinks, then rubs his chin against the bar. “Ow?”

“Eh, could’ve gone worse,” Gwen says, sipping at her chili.

Finney watches Vance go, then freezes when he sees the van, just out of the corner of his eye.

“Vance!”

Chapter Text

Finney is frozen in place as he sees the van creep on forward. He yells again, but Vance doesn’t stop. He’s not sure if Vance heard him or not, so he takes a step forward.

He’s seen that van too many times, he doesn’t need to hesitate. If he could only get Vance to come back, away from the streets then Vance would be safer. Man, he’s thinking about Vance’s safety. Vance, the same kid who carries a knife with him everywhere and scares the socks off of any kid whose heard of his reputation. Who would have thought Finney would feel any sort of concern.

Gwen was already off like a flash, like she knew what Finney had begun to do. She’s yelling too, the van slowing. Vance’s head raises up by the looks of it, and he turns with confusion in his gaze.

It was too late for them, as the door swung open and a man, bandanna tied over his face and head covered in a black magician’s hat, grabs at Vance, yanking him backwards.

“Hey! You let him go right now you bitch!” Gwen is still racing after, and Finney feels his legs carrying him towards his soulmate. Vance is struggling, rage in his soul, scratching at the man. He’s fighting back, tearing blood from caustic veins, but the man must be stronger than that body suggests because he’s dragging Vance up into the van.

Gwen, brave soldier she is, manages to grab a rock in her rush and lobs it at the man. It nails him right in the hat, knocking it askew.

“Oh, you naughty children~” The man chimes in as if mocking them, and Finney stares at the man with anger, because how dare he. It’s broad daylight, he’s at a park and he’s trying to kidnap someone. Through the fuzz buzzing in his ears he can hear Billy calling for help, but the park was practically empty save for them. Finney knows there’s others here, why have they not come?

Why has this man been so persistent, why them?

The man yells, jerking his hand away, Vance’s lips smeared in red. “You bit me!”

Vance doesn’t hesitate to continue his spree, Vance turning and kicking the man directly between his knees. The man drops to the bottom of his van, Vance following after and landing punches. Gwen and Finney are soon at the van, Vance still pummeling the man.

“Stop, stop, you’re going to kill him,” Finney says, not out of sympathy for the man but because he doesn’t need to watch a genuine murder in front of him. Finney doesn’t know if he can stomach watching someone die.

The boy does not stop. Gwen hops into the van and grabs at Vance’s arm. “Come on let’s go!”

Vance lands one more punch, stopping only because Gwen is pulling his fist away. Vance pushes at her hard, scowling. Finney shoots him a glare, yet Gwen doesn’t budge much from where she stands, only pulling harder. “You won. You won. No need to kill. The battle is over, Vance.”

Vance is breathing hard. They’re all breathing hard, even though Finney didn’t really do anything. Finney’s gaze trails to the man’s face, hard to discern underneath the bandanna he had on. He’s curious, but he also refuses to put a human to a monster right now.

Right now, they have to get away from the van. As far away as possible. The police have to get here, take this man away.

Finney places a hand on Vance’s shoe. He tugs once, and that’s all it takes. Vance allows Gwen to pull him out of the van by the edge of his jacket, for Finney to slide the van door half shut to keep prying eyes until the authorities could show. Vance’s knuckles are bruised now, spitting blood onto the sidewalk.

“Bastard,” He spits.

Finney can agree to that.

Billy and Griffin are already running up to him when they head back towards the playground, Griffin diving immediately for a hug. Billy’s got worry clear set in his eyes, a frown on his lips. Gwen goes to Finney’s side, hand on his shoulder and giving it a small squeeze. Vance freezes, face set in a half-confused glare, arms hovering as Griffin squeezes.

Vance pushes him away the moment there’s the sound of a sniffle, Griffin only latching on once more like a persistent leech.

“Get off-”

Griffin does not in fact get off, and Vance doesn’t try again.

“Found a payphone, called the police,” Billy says, hands diving into his pocket as his gaze settles past Finney’s shoulder. “Bold, isn’t he. You get a good look at his face?”

Gwen tsks, shaking her head. “Didn’t get the chance. Vance beat his lights in like a real champ. He’s not getting up anytime soon. He’ll be rotting in jail next time he does so what does it matter.”

“I’m not touching him. I don’t want to see him.”

Billy gives a half shrug. “Can’t blame you, kid. I wouldn’t wanna either. Keep him dehumanised, he’s been troubling us, we won’t go through the trouble with him.”

They all turn towards the van. It’s still there. Looming.

“Can the police get here any faster?” Gwen says, “What if he wakes up?”

“Then I’ll personally go over and knock that bastard out again,” Vance says, clenching his fists.

Finney doesn’t say anything against it, but he rather Vance not. They just had to wait until the police got here and everything would be okay. The man would be arrested, and none of them have to ever worry about the van ever again.

The police cannot come fast enough. Finney turns to Billy and asks, “You did phone the police, right?”

Billy nods, Harper weaving around Billy with a content trot. “Yeah. They should be here. The station’s only-”

“Hey! Hey he’s getting away!” Vance shouts. The van was rumbling to life again, and Vance tries to approach. Griffin hasn’t let go yet, Vance considerably slowed. He yanks Griffin off with such force the smaller boy just tumbles to the ground, Vance already storming away.

The van screeches down the road, Vance running after. There was no way he was catching up, Vance loudly cursing and kicking at the grass, sending dirt in the air. Finney keeps back, as does the others. He turns to help Griffin up off the ground, patting him down for any damage. Griffin seemed fine though, if not startled.

Vance continues destroying the spot for a solid three minutes. The boys don’t move, don’t say a word. There was no point approaching right now.

He calms down after a while, just standing there in silence. Everything is silent.

As if that wasn’t enough, they hear distant police sirens. 

That only starts Vance up all over again.

The car parks right where the van just was, and an officer comes storming up. Immediately they head towards Vance, and Finney feels like they are taking the situation in incorrectly.

They have to be. Vance turns to the officers and flips them both off, and yeah they’re gonna have to go talk to the officers and get this settled.

“Uh, officers!” Finney approaches the group, the glint of handcuffs in one of the cop’s hands. “Sorry, he’s just mad the perp escaped. Vance, Vance stop it you’re gonna get in trouble-”

Vance flips him off too. Finney ignores him. “Listen, my soulmate over there, he called for an attempted kidnapping. And the guy who tried kidnapping Vance escaped before you got here. It’s the black van, we’ve talked about it before.”

The officer looks at him, then at Vance huffing and puffing, then back at Finney. Finney gave them a sweet and placating expression, and the officer sighs.

“Yeah I remember you kid. You see the plate?”

Finney blinks, then shakes his head. He didn’t look at the back or the front of it. “No.”

The officer sighs. “Kid, that would have helped. I’ve told you this.”

Finney knows. But he was too worried to check the van.

He should have checked the van. Maybe that would have helped much more.

Or maybe the police should have gotten here faster so it didn’t rest on his shoulders.

The others come over, the officer turning and gathering their witness statements. They, like Finney, didn’t know much more, but Gwen was eager to describe the man’s appearance, even with the covered face.

It was enough for the police at least, more than they usually had. As the cop car leaves the scene, Vance turns to them.

“I’m going to kill that man for putting his hands on me.”

He said it with such conviction that Finney wholeheartedly believes him.

They ended up in the pizza parlour. Griffin had updated Vance on what the van had been doing in the past couple of weeks, and Finney swears his expression grew three times darker when he heard.

Instead of Vance storming off on some self assigned murder mission, which would be a terrible idea for many reasons, he ended up herding them all to get pizza.

Finney quietly shoves the slice of supreme in his mouth, stacked pepper packets next to his elbow. They got two pies, one supreme and one meat lovers. Finney was sticking mainly to the supreme pizza. Vance and Griffin had most of the meat lovers on their plate. Billy was just tossing the meat toppings to Harper before eating, who was allowed inside for some odd reason. Gwen was sharing in the supreme, although she got herself a smaller slice.

Nobody says anything. Finney’s not sure of anyone wants to. He was still processing it all himself. He nearly saw a kidnapping in real life and-

He didn’t do anything important.

Finney just sort of exhausted.

Maybe he just needs to sleep for a little bit. Yeah, that’ll do it. Just sleep for a little bit, he’s getting a headache.

Gwen glances at him, overturning one of the paper plates over and setting it in front of him.

“Do I really look that tired?”

Gwen shrugs. “Sibling intuition?”

He’ll take that. Finney drops his head down on the plate, groaning. He feels Gwen pat his shoulder, but she doesn’t linger for long. The other boys don’t bother him either, still quietly ruminating on today.

Finney feels Harper’s head rest on his lap, Finney dropping his hand and stroking it along the dog’s snout.

The van got away. The guy was still out there, and likely was gonna target kids again. Maybe, Finney hopes, he was scared to try again. That Vance fighting like that would deter him. Why was this man so intent on his soulmates? Was it coincidence?

Finney feels bile rise up in his throat, and he buries his head deeper against the plate. What if the man was one of his soulmates? That would be disgusting.

No, then Vance would have mentioned something, right? There was always the feeling that accompanied the soulmarks filling in, and they touched. Then why was this so close for comfort.

Finney hates this. He hates that man. He just wants to relax, not have to worry about a guy lingering in the background. No mysterious black magician’s van trying to kidnap his friends, or any kid unlucky to be on the streets when the van drives by.

Maybe he wants him dead too.

Morbid, but it meant they’d be okay. Finney wants him dead or found, locked away somewhere that he can’t get to them.

He lifts his head after a few minutes, the pizza diminished to crusts and crumbs, and they leave after tidying up.

They walk each other to each house, Billy’s gaze tracking the road. Gwen and Finney get dropped off after Griffin, Billy waving to them as they head off. The siblings wave back before they headed inside quietly.

Their dad snores on the couch, and they slink away to their respective rooms. The sun is shining red into his room, and Finney thinks about the bandanna.

Who was underneath that scarf? Finney wonders if he had taken it off if he could have described them. If he would remember. Regardless, the man got away from them. Finney had no recollection on what he was able to see. He blames the stressful situation.

He thinks about the van instead. It was just as elusive as the man, despite how clearly Finney could recognise it. All of them can at this point. Yet they have not seen the van parked in anyone’s driveway. Tucked away in a garage most likely, away from prying eyes like them. Like he knew to be guilty and hides the lure in hopes they never see him leave the house.

He flops on his bed, feet dangling off the edge. He grabs his rocket flashlight, aiming it at the stars above and turning it on. Finney just begs that the man has been scared off from trying anymore. He doesn’t want to hear if he ever succeeds, targeting someone that can’t fight or run fast enough.

That magician better stay far away and repent. He hopes that Vance gave him an infected hand.

Then he’ll be easier to spot before he thinks about another round.

He’s being too morbid. Finney shakes his head, turning off his rocket light.

Chapter Text

“I saw meat in my dreams last night.”

Finney looks over at his sister, the pair laying on the grass just outside their house. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything further. Gwen continues without his input, talking about seeing a freezer full of hanging meat, which sounded just like a typical dream. Not a vision.

Still, if she was talking about it, it was important. Gwen rolls over, looking at her brother with a worried glint in her eyes. “It felt important. You haven’t been secretly going to any meat lockers, have you?”

Finney shakes his head. If he had, he’d remember. It was a preposterous idea, and he tells Gwen so. Gwen bursts out into giggles, the girl nodding.

“Yeah, that’d be weird.” She sits up. “You have that baseball game coming up right? Against the… Glasses?”

“Optometrists?”

“That’s the one. You excited for it?”

Finney beams, tucking his hands behind his head. “Course I am, Gwen. It’s a big game.” He watches the clouds slowly drift above him. “You’re coming to watch, right?”

Gwen scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah? What else would I do, huh? Explode a city while you’re off hitting balls with a baseball bat?”

Finney shrugs with a grin on his face, Gwen pushing his shoulder with a lighthearted glare. Finney pushes her back with his knee.

The ring of a bike bell pulls both of their attention to the streets, Billy pedalling into view. They both wave to him as he passes by, Billy saluting them as he pedals past. Harper was right behind him, barking once as if also greeting them.

A second bell pulls Finney’s attention away from watching Billy, Griffin pedalling hard with Robin standing on the training wheel bars behind him. The bars had no wheels on them, so they just stuck straight out from the back tire. “Hey Finn!” Robin waves to his best friend.

“Hi Finney!”

Finney lights up, standing up and walking up to them, halted only by the fence, Griffin slowing down. “What are you two doing?”

“Getting our daily exercise, what about you?” Griffin says. Finney gestures to the grass behind him, Griffin and Robin both waving at Gwen.

“Staring at the sky and talking.” Finney points to Robin. “You’re not even exercising, Robin. You’re standing.”

Robin winks. “Touche, Finn. We switch every time we move streets though.” Robin pats the helmet strapped onto Griffin’s head. “And it’s Griff’s turn anyways.”

“It’s fun. You wanna join?” Griffin asks. Finney shakes his head.

He is immediately pushed over by Gwen, who nods. “Just let us get our bikes!” She races off to get the bikes, Finney accepting his fate and going to follow after her.

Billy comes pedalling back in their direction, a question in the furrow of his brow by the time the siblings return, Gwen strapping a fuschia helmet onto her head. Finney pushes both bikes to the driveway, climbing onto his. The bikes were a gift from Billy, one of them being his old bike when he was younger and the other being a bike he seemed to have stolen from the junkyard and repaired. Kind gesture and all that. Billy gives them a nod, turning back and pedalling off, the rest of the gang all following after. Finney keeps up to Billy easily, but he slows down for Griffin’s sake, who has to bring Robin with him.

“Why didn’t you bring your own bike?” He asked, Robin shrugging.

“Griffin asked me to stand on his bike.”

Griffin nods as if agreeing, smiling as he kept his eyes forward. “I want strong legs.”

“For climbing?”

Griffin nods even harder, and starts pedalling even harder as if the thought of it made him that much more excited to work for it. It wasn’t hard for Finney to catch up, Robin holding onto Griffin’s shoulders. He whoops in victory, raising a fist into the air. Gwen does the same, Harper weaving in between the bikes like it was a particularly fun sport.

They turn up a street once they began to hit the actual roads, and they all stop at the start of it, Griffin hopping off with Robin. Robin hops onto the seat, Griffin settling his legs on the bars.

“Alright, back to it!” Billy shouts, and he’s off, Robin kicking off and chasing after, much faster in pace than Griffin was ever able to, Gwen and Finney push off, now all riding in a diamond formation, Harper set straight in the centre of it all.

The sun moves along the sky as they biked around the neighbourhood, occasionally waving to the odd person watering their plants or walking on the sidewalks. Some even greet Billy by name, Billy greeting them back in turn. It’s impressive how he knows so many names, Billy wasn’t a mailman by any means. Throwing newspaper does not a name collector make.

Gwen was beginning to get tired around an hour and a half in. “Hey, I think I’m gonna go home for a little bit. My legs are burning.”

Billy nods, a small smile on his lips. “You go do that kid. I’ll just steal your brother for a little while, ‘kay?”

“You keep him in one piece, Showalter,” Gwen says, pointing a finger at him. Billy nods briskly, Gwen turning and biking away.

“See ya Gwen!” Robin and Finney both say at the same time. They look at each other, then break into furious giggles. “Jinx!” Both of them shout, pointing at each other.

“I said it first! You owe me a soda, Finn~”

Finney rolls his eyes, smirking. “Nope. I did. You owe me one.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure I said it a split second before you, Finn. Right Harper?”

Harper barks, tail wagging with not a thought in that dog’s head. Robin gestures to him with a smug look.

“See? Even Harper agrees with me.”

Finney looks to Harper, the dog’s tongue draped out and panting. “You betray me, Harper.”

Harper barks again, bounding up and licking Finney’s hand. Finney’s false stoic expression breaks, and he pet the dog. “Alright, I forgive you, you traitor.”

Robin laughs, patting Harper by the lower end on his back. “The best dog ever.”

“I agree!” Griffin pipes up, although he doesn’t reach over like the other two to pet the pooch. Billy walks his bike over to also pet his dog, Harper turning his attention straight to his owner and bumping into him, Billy planting his feet down to keep the dog from bowling him over.

“Alright, alright! Enough!” Billy shouts, backpedalling before he bikes off, Harper running up to keep pace. Finney and Robin both give each other a light glare that held no heat behind it before they continued onwards.

The streets were empty for the most part, but they were sticking to the neighbourhoods so Finney wasn’t particularly worried any of them would get run over. A few did come up and down the streets, but they breezed past them easily, keeping near the sidewalks.

The boys end up at the park, all sheened with sweat. A water fountain was just up ahead, Griffin hopping off his bike the moment they all came near. Robin drops to the ground and lined up behind him, Finney staying by Billy. Harper trots after the other two boys, clearly also in desperate need for a bit of hydration.

“I haven’t biked that long in ages,” Finney pants out, wiping his forehead with the front of his shirt. Billy pats him on the shoulder.

“You did good though.”

“Thanks.”

They collect their bikes onto the grass before following after Robin and Griffin. Griffin was kneeling on the ground, hands cupped in front of him. Harper was drinking out of the palms of his hand, literally, Robin hogging the water fountain next to him. Finney waits until he lifts his head, Robin looking up and stepping aside, playfully bowing and gesturing to the fountain.

“After you, my good sir.”

“Why thank you.” Finney play bows back, then takes a hearty gulp of the water. It was nice and cold, settling the thudding of his heart to a more calmer rhythm. He doesn’t take much, stepping aside for Billy to have a drink as well. Griffin silently slid his hands underneath Billy’s chin, collecting the run off like a total absolute weirdo, kneeling back down to let Harper have some more water.

Once that was done, Griffin wipes his hand on the grass and then on Harper’s chest fluff, much to the chagrin of Billy. Billy lightly swats Griffin’s hands away, Griffin only grinning like a little shit in return.

They don’t bike back, Finney plopping right down onto the grass. Robin joins him immediately, followed by the other two boys. Robin places a hand on Finney’s, Finney not moving away. It’s warm and sweaty, but Finney was warm and sweaty too so it wasn’t too weird. Robin tilts his head up towards the sky, eyes shut.

“You still owe me a soda by the way,” Robin whispers, and Finney shoves at him, Robin grinning as he tumbles over.

Finney yelps as Robin returns the favour by tackling him, the boys rolling around in the grass. Billy pulls his legs up as they roll past, Griffin cheering them on.

“Go, go, go!” Griffin shouts, fist raised in the air. They were just holding each other and rolling, no actual tussle to be seen, but Griffin starts narrating a totally fake battle going on between them. “Oooh, and the Great and Powerful Robin lands an uppercut on the Fantastic Finney! Oh what a blow! And look there, Finney has gotten Robin in a headlock, how will he get out now! And- Oh what’s that I see? Is that- No! No a flying tackle, out of nowhere! And is that teeth, is that legal? Oh someone pull out the rulebook, those chompers have got to be illegal! Robin has gotten the upper hand, will Finney seize control back?! Oh, oh!”

Billy laughs a little, Griffin grabbing the boy’s shoulders and rocking him as he watches Robin and Finney roll. Griffin was still narrating on his lonesome, jumping up to his feet with a loud shriek as Robin finally pins Finney beneath him.

“I win,” Robin says with a victorious grin, Finney rolling his eyes.

“Okay, okay I concede.”

“Yes!” Robin sits up, pumping a fist into the air. He snorts when Griffin grabs his hand and yanks him up, making fake crowd cheers under his breath.

“We have a winner! The prize will be a kiss from the… Princess of Showalter!” Griffin pulls Robin to Harper, who was laying on his back, the dog rolling back over when the boys approached.

Robin leans forward, Harper happy to lean up and plant a fat wet doggy kiss right on his cheek. Robin groans dramatically, quickly rubbing off the saliva.

They all settle down again, Griffin immediately becoming distracted when he spots a small ant hill, Billy idly petting Harper as they relaxed. Finney went back to laying down to stare at the sky, Robin flopping down besides him.

“Hey, that cloud looks like a dinosaur.” Robin points up at one of the clouds. Finney turns his attention to it.

“Hey, you’re right. And that one’s shaped like a lion, you see it?”

Robin hums, squinting. “Hmm… Yeah, I see it. And look, that one’s you!”

“Huh?” Finney scoots closer to see what Robin was pointing at.

All he sees is a nonsensical mass. “I don’t get it.”

“You don’t? Look, there’s your head, and there’s your body!”

“That does not look like a body. That’s just a cloud!” Finney laughs.

“Does too! Look closer!” Robin grabs him by the cheeks, and holds him there to stare at the cloud that was most definitely not him in the slightest. Finney squints, humming and hawing, before shaking his head the best he could with Robin holding his head hostage.

“Nope. That is not me. But look, that one can be you!” He points to a cloud that looked oddly like a cactus. Robin has to turn his head up more to see it, but once he caught it he pointed up at it excitedly.

“Man, you’re right! That is me!” He slaps his shoulder, right where the soulmark was. “Maybe I can find one that looks like a phone?”

Finney shrugs. “Bet you I’ll find it first.”

“Mmm, no you won’t. Ready set go!”

Finney and Robin keep their eyes peeled to the sky, but they don’t see any that looked remotely phone-like. Finney sees other shapes, mostly just clouds shaped like clouds, which he could name if he really wanted to.

The sound of barking, loud like the crack of thunder, pulls both boys away from their little competition to search for the source of the noise. It wasn’t Harper, the dog’s ears perked up and looking north of where they were sitting. Finney swivels his head to look at where Harper was staring, then scrambles to his feet when he sees the massive black dog bounding up to them. Robin is up on his feet as well, standing in front of Finney as if he was about to fight this massive dog. Finney is not stupid to let his best friend and soulmate fight a dog that size on his behalf, so he grabs him by the back of his shirt and drags him away. Billy got the same idea, whistling for Harper to follow as they race off. Their legs weren’t burning from the biking, but they still were a little sore. That didn’t stop them from running though, the dog barking again as they chased after.

“Hey! Samson, Samson here! Come here!” A voice shouts, and it sends a strange chill down Finney’s spine.

He doesn’t know why. Finney still turns and looks, a man bounding up behind them and calling out. The dog turns immediately and heads back to the man, the kids all slowing down and watching. The man looks up, face sheepish. “Sorry, Samson was excited about meeting a new dog!”

Billy nods curtly, hand gripping Harper’s fur. He doesn’t say anything more, turning to Robin and Finney. Griffin appears at their side seconds later, eyes full of worry. “We should go now. My heart is racing and not in a good way.”

Finney glances back at the man still standing there, dog at his side, and he agrees.

As they bike away, Finney can’t help but wonder why he feels so off.

Chapter Text

Gwen sleeps to the beat of dogs barking in her ears. She remembers relaxing in bed after a day of school, Finney disappearing into his room to complete whatever that boy does on a Wednesday, and Gwen just feeling exceptionally tired. She got her usual hours of sleep last time, nothing to write home about, but for some reason as she stepped past the threshold of her home did the wave of melatonin shake her boat like a rollercoaster.

It would only be a quick nap, Gwen figured. Finney would wake her up when it was time for dinner. Daddy was making baked potatoes and soup today.

She opens her eyes to a field, dogs rushing past her. It is not a Dream with that capital D, she reasons, because it made no sense. She’s never seen this field before, at least she doesn’t think so.

The dogs race past her, and ahead is the meat locker. The meat locker that she spoke of to Finney, but made as equally no sense as now.

It means something. But she doesn’t know what. Gwen walks up to the free-floating hanging piles of meat, hands brushing against one of the large steaks. Her brain registers none of it, but she can imagine it being cold, it being slimy.

The dogs surround the meat and tear through it like ravenous beasts. They are dogs in a way that they are shaped like dogs, act like dogs, sound like dogs.

When Gwen looks at one of these dogs, they don’t really look like a dog. For a dog, it wasn’t a dog at all: Eyes missing its pupils, limbs a little too human, shape too vague to tell a breed. Its maw was stained in the blood of the meat, still tearing at it like it was their only mission.

Probably was. The dogs tear and gnash and bite until there was nothing left of the meat. One of the dogs – somehow particularly yellow like dandelion weeds in colour – gets itself caught on one of the meat hooks.

Gwen reaches out to remove it, the dog yelping and crying out.

It falls down, as another dog takes its place.

Gwen does the same thing, letting it free.

And yet another dog hangs there crying out.

She is of no further understanding why this is happening, even as she unhooks the next dog from the hook.

She never sees how the hook catches another dog, why these dogs were putting themselves into that sort of danger, but her hands still move each and every time to rescue it.

By the sixth dog, she watches as it tears the hook off its chains like it was nothing. Walks away with a hook around its neck.

Gwen follows it and pulls it away, holds the dog for a little bit before letting it join the others.

She does not understand any part of this dream, but as she turns back to the meat hooks and sees a man with the face of a devil staring back at her, she knows it meant something.

It wasn’t a vision of the future. It was just a weird dream.

Gwen wakes up to her door opening, turning her head to Finney peeking his head in.

“Hey. Dinner’s ready.”

“Good, I’m starving,” Gwen says. She sits up and gets out of bed, heading to the kitchen. The smell of tomato and potato in the air. Her daddy greets her, and they sit down to eat. The potatoes were still a little undercooked, but it was edible. The soup was just canned soup, warmed up on the stove.

It was a good dinner.

Gwen looks at her brother, Finney shoving potato in his mouth. His game was on Tuesday, which was in four days. Finney’s been working hard, she knows he has been. She’s heard from Robin well enough how hard Finney’s has been working at the park, swinging and running to make sure he was in peak condition.

She knows he’s in peak condition, he was her brother after all. Never doubted his ability to work for his goals. She hopes they win the game against the Optometrists.

She wants to tell him about the dream, but one look at her daddy kept her mouth sealed.

Her daddy didn’t like it when she spoke about her dreams. That they should remain that: Dreams.

It wasn’t her fault they meant something more. That it was the last thing her mother passed down before she left. That the Blake’s maternal lineage was special.

Gwen know something her daddy would not understand.

But she can’t say if this recent one was a part of it. Maybe she should stop watching so many weird movies. Stick to something less scary.

Gwen finishes her food and waits until the men were done before she left the table to go play.

She checks the door before she pulls out her notebook from her dollhouse. It was her special diary, used only to document whatever she thought was important. Her visions made up the majority of it, but on occasion help other things, like how Finney would come home a little more colourful or how she had to guide her drunk dad into bed one evening because he went and got wasted. Gwen writes down what she remembers of the dream. The dogs, the meat, the man.

The man was what caught her. She felt chills run down her spine in her own dream, and she’s sure if she saw him in real life she’d feel the same.

Shutting her book, she puts it back inside her dollhouse, along with all the other things she had to keep hidden from her daddy.

Gwen shuts the door and sits on her bed instead, fingers tracing her own mark. It wasn’t active, not like her brother’s. Her brother whose soul was split into six, and now was joining together within the span of a couple of months. It was happening so fast.

Still, Finney has also been experiencing something much more dangerous in these same months. The same reason he even met his second soulmate.

She’s seen the stress in his eyes, how his eyes looked over the streets.

Gwen wants to punt the van driver in the nuts. Several times. But she can’t.

For now, she can talk about her visions with her brother. At least he’d believe her, even if it meant nothing.

Chapter Text

It was a bright and sunny day. The bases were empty, and Finney was facing the batter. He took a deep breath.

He can do this.

The batter smiles, eyes locked.

Finney digs his foot into the mound, and winds up. Throwing the ball, the batter misses, late by just a millisecond.

“Strike!”

Finney grins, ball tossed back to him as he readies the second throw.

The batter misses again, chatter surrounding them with anticipation. The batter narrows his eyes, readjusting his grip on his bat and giving it a determined tilt.

Out of the corner of his eyes he can see Gwen standing right by the fence, grinning at him. Not that much farther was Griffin, fingers clutching the criss-crossing metal. Billy and Vance were sitting down, Vance looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

And there, fists raised high right at the edge of the bleachers, was Robin.

“Go Finn go!”

Finney feels the surge rush through him, and he stares at the batter with determination. The batter stares back, that same determination coursing through his bones as well.

He throws the ball. It sails through the air between them.

The crack of bat against ball seals his fate, number 27 running across the bases as the ball soars above everyone else.

That’s a home run if Finney’s ever saw it. Finney watches the boy run the bases, cracking a small smile at the way he tilts his helmet at him like it was thanks. The ball lands somewhere far in the distance, and the game is settled.

The Optometrists won.

The place erupts in cheers and exclamations, the batter landing right back at home base as his team surrounds him with eager calls.

Finney lines up with the rest of his team, shaking hands and calling the good game.

The batter, number 27, comes personally up to him in the end and said, “Hey dude.”

Finney stops, the batter smiling and taking his throwing hand in his own. “Your arm is mint. You almost had me. Good game.”

“Good game.”

Finney shakes his hand, then feels that telltale itching sensation he’s been getting so frequently nowadays. His eyes widen, and so does to the other boy as he places his gloved hand to his heart.

“Oh,” goes the other boy, surprised.

Finney takes his hand back and turns his wrist, staring as the final circle fills in.

A bat, how fitting. How hilariously fitting. The dial is complete, call the doctor.

“You’re the last one,” Finney whispers.

The boy must be a natural smiler, Finney thinks, because his lips rises even more and he’s pulled into a rather tight hug.

“Man, it’s so nice to finally meet you. We’re awful young to be finding soulmates, but hey, good friendship starts somewhere right?” He pulls away, muttering something under his breath with a small shake of his head before he speaks up. “I’m Bruce. Bruce Yamada. And you’re… Finney, right?”

Finney nods slowly, now a smidge confused. “Yes? How’d you know?”

“A friend of mines told me.”

“Do I know them?”

“He’s coming right now.”

Bruce points over his shoulder. Finney turns as Gwen and the gang come up, Griffin taking the lead in a dead sprint.

Finney plants his feet as Griffin tackles him.

“You did great! Oh man, you almost got him out!” Griffin says right into his sweaty baseball shirt. He lets go and ducks underneath his arm. “You did good too. Finney was so close to beating you, he’s been practising for so long!”

“Haha, really?” Bruce chuckles. “Heard he’s pretty tough.” His eyes move back to Finney with an appraising eye. “Rumours didn’t lie.”

Finney blushes slightly at the praise. “Oh, it’s nothing really.”

Gwen and Robin both punch him in the arm. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short, amigo,” Robin lightly chides. “You are tough! You’re Finney Blake!”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” Finney rolls his eyes, Robin firmly nodding.

Vance looked between them, then gives a single thumbs up from his crossed arms. “That was pretty tense, you two.”

“Thanks Vance, glad you could actually make it,” Bruce says.

“Wait, Vance is your-?”

“And other soulmate.” Bruce taps his chest again with a pleased air to him. “Been soulmates since he accidentally ran me over on his trike at the ripe age of two years old.”

“He was in my way. I had places to be,” Vance said in complete seriousness, adjusting his arms.

Bruce shrugs. “The follies of being toddlers.”

“Oh.” Finney was a little surprised, but it sounded about right for Vance.

Robin chuckles. “Man, that sounds fun. You’ve been friends for like, forever forever!”

“Against my better judgement.”

“He loves me.”

Vance flips him off, but the way his face was Finney could tell he didn’t actually mean it.

“Wait, you said other. That means there is another one you got,” Gwen butts in.

Bruce gestures right to Finney, and the crowd around him erupts in surprise.

“He also told me that…. His is almost filled?” Bruce questioned.

Griffin takes over, pointing at his chin. “Yeah! Look, it’s all of us right here!” He lifts his head so Bruce can look.

“Oh, all of you…?”

“Except me, on principle that I am Finney’s sister and has nothing to do with Finney’s six-way soul matching.” Gwen raises her hand.

“Ah, well nice to meet you, Finney’s sister. I have a sister around your age. Her name’s Amy, maybe you and her could meet. She should have come to the game actually.”

Gwen looks interested, just as they hear a car honk, everyone turning to look at the direction. There is someone waving towards them, Bruce waving back.

“Well, I better head out now, my parents are waiting for me. Thanks for playing, Finney! I’ll catch with you later Vance, see you!” He turns and jogs off, the rest of the kids all watching him go.

Once he was out of sight, Billy finally speaks up. “You didn’t tell us yours was completed.”

“Why the fuck would I. It’s my mark,” Vance says, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Well, it would have made it faster for us to know?” Billy questions.

“Figured you’d find him anyways, Bruce ain’t that hard to find ‘round here. Popular, you know?”

“Just doesn’t go to our school,” Finney notes, Vance nodding.

“Yeah. Look, is today just Bombard Vance With Questions Day or can we go? I’m pretty sure your team’s waiting for you.” Vance jerks his head to where the rest of Finney’s baseball team were all huddled around their coach.

“Oh right. Talk to you guys later, ‘kay?”

“We’ll be waiting!”

Finney runs off to join the rest, his mates slapping him on the back for doing his best out there.

Way down the streets, the Yamada car passes by a black van.

His dad didn’t say much when he returned home for dinner. He spent the rest of the day with his team or with his friends and sister. The team got celebratory ice cream, and after that Finney just hung out with the others at the arcade.

That was way better than right now, which was mostly silent save for the sound of eating.

“You lose, Finney?”

“It was a close game, but yeah. Home run right at the end.”

His dad tsks at him, and that was the end of that.

He leaves the table soon after, bones tired from the game. Just wanted to nap for a million years if that were possible.

Finney changes out of his clothes and hops into the shower to rinse off the sweat of just being outside for so long. It doesn’t take him long, drying off and padding back to his room. He thinks about Bruce in the meantime. At first, he wonders if he’s ever actually seen him before. Might have, somewhere roaming the streets like every kid does, but perhaps he was more focused on looking for something else.

That brings him to his next thought, the one that makes his heart beat just a little more and a chill to his spine.

Was Bruce set to be cursed as well? To be tracked by that van?

Finney should ask Gwen to see if she could dream about it, if Finney needed to warn Bruce.

It’s a weird request, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

He puts on his home clothes before going to Gwen’s room, knocking.

“Come in Finney.”

He opens the door, Gwen pulling off her socks. She looks up at him with that knowing glint in her eyes.

“What’s got you in a sausage knot?”

“I need to ask you to try to get another vision about that van again. Bruce, the batter? He-”

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll try, Finney, I promise. No guarantee though.”

“Figured. Thanks Gwen.”

“No problem Finney. Now go, I was about to change. Shoo, shoo!” She waves him away with a smile, Finney turning and heading right back out, shutting the door behind him.

Finney returns to his room with hope that it won’t be what he thinks it’ll be.

Knowing their luck though, that van wasn’t about to leave them alone.

T he look Gwen gives him when Finney has breakfast with her isn’t good news.

Vance manages to bring Bruce over a few days after the game to the Grab N’ Go where the others were hanging around outside. Griffin spots them first, straightening up from where he and Robin were playing tic-tac-toe on the concrete.

“Hey guys!” Bruces greets, the boys all responding back. “What’re you up to?”

“Hanging out. Come here, we gotta complete the dial!” Robin gets up and taps Bruce on the shoulder. Billy and Griffin get up as well, Bruce giving them high fives instead.

Griffin rubs at his chin and then heads straight to Finney, tilting his head up to show the now complete dial.

“Looking great, Griffin.”

“Heheh, thanks~”

Bruce smiles, then looks down at his heart. “Man, I didn’t think I’d get it complete so soon. Figured it’d take me until college.”

“Small world, don’t you think?” Billy leans against the convenience store. Vance disappears into the store, although never strays too far as he reappears right on the other side of the glass to his beloved machine. Typical of him.

Bruce laughs. “Very small.” He sits down with the others, one leg stretched out and the other used as an arm rest. “You know, I feel weirdly fulfilled now. Don’t you?”

Finney thinks so. He didn’t think about it much when it happened, but now that everyone was here, he can feel that sense of comfort to it.

Like everything was back together like it should be.

The others agreed the same, Robin thrusting the chalky rock at Bruce. “Come on, play a round with us. I bet Griffin that loser has to swallow this roly-poly.” 

Griffin opens his hand, a small black ball right in the centre of it.

“Sounds gross. I’m in.”

Griffin draws another board, and Finney watches the road with Billy. He’s hasn’t told anyone about what Gwen had said about Bruce, but Billy seemingly had an extra sense about it.

Maybe it was because Finney was being too obvious.

“Not here,” Billy mutters. “He’s not brave enough to chase us here.”

Too much witnesses. Plus, that kidnapper knows he’s not welcome around them.

He’d have to get Bruce alone.

But Finney wasn’t about to leave him without at least warning him. Even if it was of no use, it eased his mind.

Bruce throws up his hands in victory, Robin groaning. Sounds like he lost.

Finney turns his head away so he doesn’t have to watch.

He turns back and taps Bruce on the arm, Bruce turning to him.

“What is it, Finney?”

“I have something that’s gonna sound really weird but. Have you been seeing any black vans?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Uhhh, what kind?”

“The kind that looks like a magician owns it.”

Bruce still looked a little confused, but the others were watching them as well.

Finney takes a deep breath. “Listen Bruce. If you ever encounter it, I need you to run. Run like its a home run. That van’s been… bothering us lately, and I have a bad feeling.”

Bruce frowns. “Really?”

Griffin nods slowly, curling a little. Billy nods firmer, jaw taut. “Really really. It almost got Vance couple weeks ago even.”

Bruce looks to Vance through the window, who is deep into his game of pinball. “Even him?”

“We beat him up, but he might try again. He’s an adamant asshole.” Robin scowls.

“So I’m warning you just in case.”

Bruce’s lips twitch, and nods. “Got it. Thanks for sharing that with me.”

“No problem.”

Griffin looks around, then taps Bruce. “Wanna go again? This time loser has to get the winner a drink.”

“Oh, prepare to lose then.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Finney watches them play, Bruce cheering as he wins once more to Griffin’s utter dismay.

He really hopes that piece of shit stays away for good. He’s liking what’s going on so far.

Chapter Text

For all that it is worth, it was Griffin’s fault.

The kid just liked being around them on the sole account that he doesn’t seem to hang out with anyone else, now that he had Finney and the others. Finney gets it, it had to be rough to be alone for an awful long time without anyone else to lean upon. Not that anyone minded, Griffin was pretty good company.

Which is why they’re all piled into Ms. Stagg’s car and heading to an amusement park together. She was rather pleased to know Griffin had such nice friends to play with, always worried about him ‘running himself into trouble someday with no one to come fetch him’.

Finney just smiled and nodded, glancing over at Griffin who was being teased with a sucker that Vance had been teasing him with for the last couple of minutes.

Griffin invited them to come with, stating that going to an amusement park alone is kind of sad, even though his mom and grandma were coming with and would technically count as a family outing.

Finney managed to convince his father to let him go, although it was more a feeble hand wave and a grunt than anything verbal. Gwen was staying over with her friends for the day, something about going around the strip to window shop.

So here he was, crammed once more in Griffin’s mom’s car with five other boys. There’s just enough space for them, Vance and Bruce taking the door seats while the rest were crammed in the back. Robin was half on top of Finney half on whatever space Billy and Griffin weren’t using of the seat. Robin didn’t seem to mind, happily chatting away about what kind of rides he wanted to get on. Finney wasn’t much of the more high speed coasters Robin was rambling about, but the way Robin’s face glowed and how much he’s shaking Finney’s head makes him want to go on them at least once just to be with him.

The others chimed in once in a while. Bruce had been to the park quite often with his family, so he knew what ride was good and what ride wasn’t worth going for. Billy wanted to stay closer to the ground, not because he didn’t like heights but just oddly concerned about hitting a bird somehow.

Griffin responded by knocking his forehead straight into Billy’s shoulder because, and Finney will quote, “Caw caw, Billy B. Showalter is too high for little ol’ me, I have been incinerated!” followed by Billy correcting them that no, he did not hit Griffin so hard he caught on fire.

That, and Griffin did that to himself and he bears no responsibility for exploding him.

Which led to Griffin telling on him – much to Robin’s amusement – and Griffin’s sweet old grandmother telling Griffin not to get himself into situations where Billy would explode him.

Finney thinks he knows why Griffin is so weird now.

Vance doesn’t say a word the entire time, staring right out the window and occasionally giving a nod regardless if he’s being spoken to or not. Finney barters that Vance was more interested in seeing the park than talk about it.

They make it there after a couple more minutes, Bruce holding onto Griffin’s grandma as they head to the ticket booth as one. They all brought cash with them, but Griffin’s mom waves off everyone’s attempt at paying their way in and hands over the fee.

“We could’ve done it, Ms. Stagg. Didn’t have to pay for us,” Robin says as he pockets the few dollars back in his shorts, Griffin’s mom waving them off.

“No sweetie, it’s fine. Save the money for food, this is nothing!”

“You’re very kind, Ms. Stagg,” Bruce says. 

Griffin’s mom smiles. “Thank you, dear. Now, here’s your wristbands, now off you get!”

Everyone heads to the gate where an attendee lets them through once they put the bands around their wrists just to prove they paid at the gate. They had to stick together since there were so many of them, but they would circle the entire park and go to whatever ride they wanted.

Of course, they had a plan. Made it all at the car for peak efficiency. The more extreme rides were kept at the back, so they would build up to it as they went through. A bell curve, as Bruce called it. Start simple, get to the cooler rides, and then back to calmer rides.

So of course they end up on the spinning teacups first. It was right there, and Robin was already grabbing at Finney’s hand and dragging him towards it. The others follow suit, getting in line.

“I bet you we can go the fastest,” Robin boasts, still holding onto Finney. Vance brightens a little at the challenge, smirking.

“Yeah? You think so, shorty?”

“I know so. We’ll get so much dizzier than you can, Vance!”

Vance barks out a single laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, bet on it. You and Finney versus me and Bruce here.” Bruce looks between them with a vapid smile, but it quickly morphs into a more real kind with a bit of interest in his eyes.

“Sorry you two, but we’re probably gonna beat you. But I believe in you both, really!”

Yeah, Finney doesn’t entirely believe him, but he takes the challenge on.

Once they’re let in the ride, they take different cups. Robin and Finney take the red cup with the silly purple swirls on it, while Bruce and Vance take the blue cup with flowers painted on the cup. Billy and Griffin take a third striped cup, both understanding full well that it was a competition between the other four. Billy deemed himself as the referee since the other four would clearly be busy being spun at insane speeds.

Robin plants his hands on the wheel between him and Finney, turning to look at the blue cup and back at his best friend. “Right, when the ride begins we’re yanking this thing as fast as we can counterclockwise, got it?”

“Got it.”

“We’re beating them hard,” Robin states, and they hear the hiss of the ride being allowed to move. The moment the base begins to spin them, the boys are at it.

Finney shrieks with laughter as their cup spins around and around and around, hair flipping in the wind. Robin’s grinning excitedly, whooping and cheering as the cup blends them right up. Finney can barely see the flashes of the blue cup as they pass by them, only a blur with how speedy these cups were.

(Griffin and Billy were peacefully talking with each other about giraffes in the meanwhile, as their soulmates go zooming by every so often at mach speeds. Griffin thinks his mom finds the situation hilarious. She would be right.)

Alas, the ride can only last so long, as the cups artificially slow down on their own. Finney is shaking from the energy of it all, Robin grinning and turning to find Vance and Bruce. Vance’s hair was a whipped mess, Bruce beaming from across. He waves at Robin, Robin waving back with a determined glint in his eyes.

They all stumble off the cups, holding onto each other lest they topple. Billy and Griffin don’t get the same effect, only having spun occasionally. They make it to the exit gate first, the others right behind.

“Who won?” Was Finney’s first question, Billy looking between the pair.

“Hmmm…. I’d say…. Blue cup.” Billy points to Vance and Bruce, Bruce giving them an apologetic shrug.

“Told you.”

“Aw man! We almost had them, Finney!” Robin complains lightheartedly. Finney shakes his head with a bit of a dramatic sigh, placing his hand on Robin’s shoulder, right where their soulmarks could touch.

“Sorry Robin, I should’ve spun faster.”

“Oh well, we can always beat them in something else. Like bumper cars!”

Vance snorts. “Oh, in your dreams Robin.”

“Says you.”

“We’ll see.”

They stand around if only to catch their balance for a little longer before marching off to the next ride, and then the next. They all usually went as a group, but some rides a boy or two held back. The deeper they went, the more exuberant the rides were.

Finney tried to ride as many as possible, but he was only a boy and could only take so much of being thrown about. At the moment he was sitting with Bruce as the other four went and rode something called The Roulette. It was a platform that everyone just sat on and waited to get flung off. Pretty fun, he thinks.

This was their second run, Vance wanting a retry after he got flung off early the first go. Bruce was cheering him on, Finney by his side doing the same. Griffin’s grandmother had gone and disappeared somewhere to get them some drinks, so only his mom was still about, sitting and generally relaxing.

“Oh, there goes another one!” Bruce was commentating as he watched, Finney taking his role as co-commentator very seriously. “Will our top players make it to the end? Determination in their gazes, even as our playing field gets faster. What do you think, Finney?”

“Judging by how planted the team is, I say we’re heading to a real close finish here, Bruce. And there goes another one of their competitors, ooh! She was doing quite well, but a minor lapse and she’s gone sideway and outta here!” Finney waves his arm in an arc, pointing over his shoulder.

“It’s a real doozy out here, we can- Oh could it be? Our boy Stagg is slipping a little. There’s panic in his eyes, or perhaps is it glee? He’s well known in this stadium as a real gripper, got hands that cling and climb. But it seems today they aren’t working for him at all, what a shame-”

“No look, he’s still well in the game! The wheel’s pretty fast, but Stagg is hanging by the edge- Oooh, there goes another. I must say home team is doing pretty well- Have I spoken too early? Oh and there goes our paperboy! First to go!”

Bruce snaps his fingers. “Seems like he wasn’t as firm as we thought, Finney. And there goes Stagg, the wheel is too fast even for him, and there goes Arellano! Oh and the ankle grab! If he’s going, Hopper seems to be going with!”

Finney laughs as Robin slides belly down the colourful platform, grabbing onto Vance much to Vance’s obvious chagrin as they’re both taken off.

“And there we have it, the ride of the century! Tune in next time for yet another game, another time!” Finney imitates the sound of the TV shutting off, giving Bruce a high five as he holds his hand up between them.

The four all walk to the exit once it was safe too, Finney patting Robin’s back as they approach.

“You were close, Robin.”

“Thanks. Did you see what I did? Did you?”

“The whole thing. Pretty risky grabbing onto Vance like that.”

Vance prods at the back of Robin’s head. “Pretty risky indeed. You’re lucky Arellano.”

Robin beams, and is already off, taking the train of boys and Griffin’s mom with them.

It doesn’t take long before they’re at the proper coasters. Griffin’s grandma reappeared like magic, shoving small cups of water at the boys to down before they went back at it. Hydration is key, don’t want to go and faint after all.

“Come on, the front’s the best part!” Robin points as they step on the platform to get on the coaster. It was pretty full, Finney shaking his head.

“Nah, I’d rather be at the back.”

“Aww, come on, Finn!”

“You can take Vance. He’s already sitting down.”

Robin turns to Vance, who just raises an eyebrow. “Can I?”

Vance gestures at the empty spot next to him. “Get in.”

Finney gives him a thumbs up, taking the cart more near the back. Billy follows him, leaving Bruce and Griffin to take the one in front.

Once they were settled, Billy leans in. “I haven’t ridden this one before.”

“Me neither.”

Bruce pipes up. “Oh, this one is great. The drop’s pretty fun.”

“Don’t hit any birds on the way!” Griffin chirps, giggling like the menace he is.

Billy just clutches the bar across his lap a smidge tighter.

The coaster rolls to life, and they’re off, chugging slowly as they head up the first hill. Finney keeps his eyes straight ahead on the back of Bruce’s head, not wanting to look down. He’s not afraid of heights, but he isn’t stupid enough to look down when they’re getting higher and higher up.

The front parks right at the crest, leaving Finney to look skyward.

It doesn’t last long, and Finney screams the whole way down.

They stop for food after three more rides after that, Finney and Robin sharing a basket of curly fries together and a corn dog each. Bruce went for nachos drizzled in enough cheese to attract mice, Vance with a chilli dog that he was eating with a fork, and Billy just drinking water and stealing fries. Griffin was eating a funnel cake with his mom and grandmother, getting his cheek wiped clean from sugar every other half minute.

“So which one are you boys getting on next?” Griffin’s mom asked.

Griffin was already pointing right at the log ride that sat nearby. A log came rolling down at that moment, splashing water everywhere. They’d get soaked, but that was the fun of it. Besides, they would dry a ride or two later.

“Oh, looks fun! Finish up boys, we won’t be going anywhere. Sun’s making an awful stink, mom needs to rest a bit.” She pats Griffin’s grandma on the shoulder, who just sips at her water in silence.

“Alright, Ms. Stagg!” Robin says, tearing off more corn dog down to the stick.

Finney takes his time, just letting himself rest among the others. He’s having a great time, really, especially surrounded by friends. Couldn’t have had it any other way.

His mind conjures a black balloon, and he shoves another pinch of fries into his mouth. Yeah, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bruce finishes his food first, so he just waits for the others until they were ready. They split into threes, the log not built to take all of them at once. Bruce was going with Finney and Robin, Vance with the other two. They all head through the short walkway building to get to where the actual entrance was, tallest in front with shortest in the back.

The ride began slow, just drifting along the river before it was set on the track up. It was quite the height, and Finney prepares himself to get soaked as they reach the top.

The log ride races downward after a brief intermission, and they slam into the waters below, spraying water all over them and the walkway nearby. Finney can hear a few screams from the victims splashed by them, and he shakes water from his hair. Poor Bruce got the brunt of it, brushing back soaked hair from his face. Robin, weirdly enough, was spared from it, although clearly wasn’t all that happy that he was relatively dry.

They sit through the second round of drifting along before they were able to leave. Moments later the other three come up, Vance only partially sprayed, his shirt wet and only the barest hint that he got hit in the face.

Billy somehow looked like a wet dog, Griffin faring only slightly better.

“Man, you got the worse of it,” Robin says, Billy shaking his head free of water in his direction as his answer to the observation. Robin is quick and already running away, Billy chasing after as fast as he can with a wet floor.

Griffin’s mom found it just as humorous as the boys all came out in various states of dampness, Robin now much wetter than he should have been.

They move to more rides that dried them off piece by piece. They even get on the bumper cars that were set out back. They all took it quite seriously, although it ended with being chased around the entire area by Vance and Griffin. It was quite a workout avoiding them gunning for them and them only.

Although Vance did get distracted when someone slammed into his side and decided he was the new target for a good few moments. Still, fun.

They slowed down by the end of it, and Finney was well and done by the end of it. Everyone sat down by the ferris wheel, Robin drinking yet another cup of water given by the grandmother.

“That was fun,” Griffin was kicking his legs as he watches the ferris wheel go around. None of them make the move to approach it. Probably because they were all beat by now.

Robin and Bruce both nod in agreement, Finney leaning back and taking Robin’s cup to finish the rest of the water he left.

“Thanks for coming with, guys.” Griffin smiles at them. “It was so much more fun.”

“Oh, you’re welcome Griffin, thanks for inviting us,” Bruce responds.

The other boys join in, even Vance grunting a thanks.

“Alright, is everyone ready to get home?” Griffin’s mom stands, the boys getting up with her. Finney helps Griffin’s grandmother up, and the group all head out of the park, Griffin somehow still having a skip to his step as they get back in the car. Ball of energy, he was.

Finney had fun today. He smiles as he leans on Robin, now the one sitting halfway off of him.

Chapter Text

Finney wipes his hands clean in the bathroom, then his face. Matty had gotten brave today. Landed a good hit in. Thought that Finney was getting too comfortable, too brave. Needs to be taken down a few notches to show that he wasn’t that special, he was still Finney Blake, total loser and nerd, weak and unable to defend himself.

Finney didn’t care, gave him no amount of his attention as he walked away, ignores the jeering singular laugh that followed him. Ducked into the bathroom and checked the damage.

It wasn’t bad. It will bruise, and his nose had bled a little, but it wasn’t bad.

Finney blows his nose out into a paper towel. Tosses it away and takes a few deep breaths for himself. Getting his bearings, Finney gripping the edge of the sink.

Someone flushes the toilet behind him, Finney turning to leave. He had to get to class. Can’t linger too long.

The rest of the day, he avoids Matty. Somehow he avoids his friends as well. Finney doesn’t see them at all, not even Robin. Must just barely miss each other in the halls. Finney wasn’t worried about their whereabouts. It’s school, they can’t be anywhere else but here.

When school ended, he walks outside to a fight. A crowd of students cheering in a circle, and something slamming into something else reaching Finney’s ears. Punches and kicks, yelling. It was drowned out by the other students, so Finney couldn’t tell who was yelling what.

Finney sees Gwen standing just at the outskirts, her gaze travelling from the fight to Finney. Runs over to him and grabs his wrist.

“You know how to pull away an angry Mexican boy from a fight?” She asks, all the explanation he was gonna get.

Finney gapes like a goldfish, then walks down to push past the circle. They split easy, and Finney can see the fight a lot more clearly.

Robin was wailing on Moose, both sides bruised and torn up. His little group of friends were in similar states right on the outskirts of the inner circle, Matty holding his hand and shaking.

Finney knows its bad. Doesn’t know what happened, or why Robin was fighting, but he goes in anyways. Grabs at Robin and yanks him away. “Robin, enough! You’re done, come on.”

Robin melts in his arms, dangling there like all the energy fled him, but his fists remain curled. It was enough for Moose to slowly move into a sitting position, glaring at the both of them.

“Oh, and here comes your little boyfriend here to save the day-” He jeers.

Robin jerks once in his arms, but Finney keeps him steady. “Not worth it,” He mutters, Robin still spitting back at Moose.

“Saving the day? You’re lucky I don’t come and kill you now for saying those things about my best friend, you piña hijo de puta!” Robin screams, Finney pulling him away from the fight. Robin doesn’t stop him, still facing Moose down like a furious pitbull.

Doesn’t take long after that for staff to appear, shooing away the spectators to see the damage.

“Boys, to the principal’s office, immediately.”

Moose takes a while to get to his feet, helped by Matt and Matty. Robin puts his feet underneath himself, wiping blood from his fat lip. Finney still has his arms underneath his armpits, even though Robin didn’t need him to hold him up anymore.

“You alright?” Finney whispers, Robin nodding.

“Course I am, Finn.”

“Why did you do that?”

“They were talking bad about you. About Billy and Griffin too.” Robin shrugs. “I had to show them who’s boss.” His eyes look up at Finney, gaze focusing on the bruise. “That from them?”

Finney frowns slightly. Nods.

“You fight back?”

Finney shakes his head. “Left after the first punch.”

Robin sighs. “Better than nothing.”

Finney points to Robin’s face. “Your mama’s gonna be pissed.”

Robin smiles, then winces. “I’ll tell her sorry when I get home.”

“I’ll come with, make sure she doesn’t get you with her sandal.”

Robin laughs. “Gracias, cohete.” He leaves, heading inside the school. Gwen nudges her brother with her arm, rocking him.

“You’re soft.”

“Oh shut up. Don’t you have something to be doing?”

“Going to Robin’s to keep mama Arellano from chucking her sandal at her son, seems like.”

“Oh, me too. Looks like we have a similar schedule.”

“Quite the schedule.”

They wait for Robin to appear again. Watches as a few cars pull up, moms walking right in and pulling out their sons. None of them look at Finney or Gwen, one still in the middle of yelling even as she comes out of the building.

Ms. Arellano is the last to show up, and she goes to Finney first. “Finney, ¿estás bien?” Her hand rests on his cheek, worry in her eyes.

“I’m fine, Robin’s mom.” Finney punctuates this with a thumbs up and a shy smile.

“Bueno.” She turns and heads inside, Finney and Gwen following after. Robin’s mom heads into the office, and they hear her loudly talking in there, the door shut so neither Blake sibling could really hear what was going on.

Sounded real heated though.

She reappears a minute later, Robin trailing behind. “¿Vienen ustedes dos?” Ms. Arellano asks, Finney and Gwen both nodding.

They follow her to the car, a beat up little thing but one that ran well enough. Belongs to Robin’s uncle, but Robin’s mom drove it around as well sometimes.

The kids all sit in the back, Finney in the middle. As soon as the door is closed Robin’s mom starts going at it, reprimanding Robin judging by the tone. Robin is well and admonished at this point, yet defending his point right back.

Once they make it back to Robin’s house, his mom corrals him right into the kitchen to patch him up, still loudly talking. Cleans him up and asks him if he needs meds by shaking the bottle, Robin shaking his head.

Finney and Gwen both stick around for a bit. Accepts the orange slices Ms. Arellano gives them as an afterschool snack.

“Well, no sandal,” Finney says as he pops a slice in his mouth. Hands Robin one when he holds his hand out.

Robin laughs quietly. “Yeah,mama is just mad I got into a fight on school grounds. Again.”

“Really?” Gwen says. Robin nods.

“Told her I was defending my friend’s honour. She said I’m just like dad.”

Finney hums. “Well, thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“It was for honour. For my friends. We’re bound.” He slaps his shoulder for emphasis, grinning.

“Well, honour bound or not, what you did was… kind of cool.”

Robin is still smiling, full of pride. Snatches another orange from Finney’s hand, shoving it in his mouth before Finney could even react.

Chokes on it a second later, Gwen and Finney patting his back as he wheezes.

“Comer más despacio!” Ms. Arellano lightly scolds.

“Lo siento mamá!”

Finney returns home, does homework, has dinner, watches TV, and sleeps.

As he dreams, he sees he’s on a gross mattress, the smell of stale air and eggs in the air, although he can’t really smell it at all.

Makes him feel nauseous. He doesn’t know what else is there, but.

There’s a door, ahead of him.

It’s stained with blood.

A phone rings in the background.

Finney wakes up, sweat on his brow, the dream fading to nothing. It was the next morning. He shuffles out of bed, grabbing the glass of water he left on his table and drinks the mouthful that was left.

After breakfast – which was french toast with whatever fruits remained in the fridge they could use to decorate – Finney left the house, heading to the park on his own.

Bruce was there, swinging a younger girl on the swings. Waves when he sees Finney.

“Hey, Finney! How’s it going?”

Finney waves right back. “Oh, you know. Keeping on. How about you?”

“Doing great! Oh, this is my sister. Amy, this is-”

“Finney Blake. I’ve heard about you.” The girl looks at Finney. She looks like her brother, just a shade lighter in skintone and hair tied into a low ponytail. “You’re the purple one.”

“Does… Bruce talk about me?”

“Explains his mark to me, yep. But mine’s is cool too.” She rolls her arm over, pulling up her sleeve. A large black stain crawls up her arm like smoke. It wasn’t like a small touch, it looked more like someone was shoved into her arm. Or maybe latched onto it and was pulled. Finney doesn’t know.

“That’s a lot.”

“It’s cool though.” Amy grins, pulling her sleeve back down. “Bruce says he hopes I find mines much later.”

“You’re young, you have lots of time.” Bruce pushes her sister again, Amy moving once more.

“Says, you, you’re not even old enough to drive and you already found everyone.”

“Whatever.” He pushes her even higher, Amy sailing through the air. Bruce steps to the side to continue pushing her. Finney watches them play for a minute or so.

“It is a little weird we found each other so fast.” He leans against the metal bar. 

Bruce shrugs. “Fate’s weird like that. I’m just happy I didn’t have to like… Move to Peru to find people.”

“Peru?” Finney cocks his head.

“Could be an option.”

Finney thinks about it for a few seconds, then shakes his head. “Peru’s too far for me.”

Bruce looks to him, smiling slightly. “If you had to, where would you go?”

“I dunno, somewhere closer. Like… Houston, or Canada.”

“Houston and Canada are both very different distances.” Bruce points out.

“But closer than Peru!”

“Got me there.” Bruce looks away again, Amy still swinging.

“I wouldn’t want to go to Peru either. Can’t speak Peruvian,” Amy pipes up.

“Oh, you’re right. We’d have to learn a whole language.” Bruce shakes his head like it was a true pity. “I can barely speak English as is.”

Amy giggles. “Says you. You get As in all your classes! English included!”

“Because I study hard. If you study you can do it too, Amy.”

Amy whines a drawn out ‘noooo’, Bruce stepping away fully to let her swing on her own.

“You want to go do something else or did you just come to watch?”

“Want to go play on the monkey bars?”

Bruce nods, and they go play. 

The boys hung there in an attempt to see who could stay on the longest, raced each other even though they could only do it one at a time, even just climbed it and sat there talking.

Finney learned that Bruce went to the more fancier school on the other side of town, and that he was actually popular with others. Had a good and easy personality, even though Bruce found it tiring sometimes.

“It feels like I have to perform at school, is that weird?” Bruce looks out to the streets, Finney’s eyes going between the grey of the road and to Bruce’s face. “Just want to be myself, but I’m not that different than what I do at school.”

“I think you’re cool the way you are.”

“Thank you Finney. You’re cool too.” Bruce leans back and forth. “Vance says that to me too, he’s just more rough about it. Thinks I should just give up acting all nice all the time. But that feels mean, you know?”

Sounds about right.

“Were you and Vance really childhood friends?” Finney asks.

Bruce smiles as he nods. “Yeah. Even after he ran me over we were friends. My parents and his parents weren’t about to split us up once they found out. I think that’s the only reason he tolerates me. Amy jokes I’m the reason Vance even knows what empathy is. He’s good though. Real good.” Bruce looks away, then back at Finney. “You and Robin are childhood friends too right?”

“We’re tight as thieves.”

“That’s good.” Bruce blows a laugh through his nose. “We have such mean best friends.”

FInney laughs as well. “Robin isn’t mean! Just tough.”

“So is Vance. Couldn’t imagine being without him.”

“Me neither.” Finney watches the road again. “But we don’t have to worry about that. We’re bound together. Stick together.”

“Thick as thieves.” Bruce nudges Finney softly on the shoulder. “So don’t go leaving, alright?”

“I’ll do my best as long as you do,” Finney responds.

“Aye aye,” Bruce says.

Finney nods, freezing as he sees the black van again. Holds his breath as it slowly passes by. It was like he could almost feel him watching him. Watching them both.

“Uh, Finney?” Bruce follows his gaze. “That’s the van, isn’t it.” He says, then slides off. Finney drops down next to him, Bruce heading straight for his sister. Amy had slowed her swinging, digging her soles into the ground.

“Come on, Amy.” He grabs her, Amy getting up with questioning in her eyes.

“What is it? Bruce what’s going on, why are you taking us away from the park?”

Finney taps her shoulder and points behind them. Amy looks, seeing the black van stopped in the middle of the road.

“Why is it stopped?”

“Bad feeling,” Bruce says, short and to the point. It was enough for  Amy to nod and follow along, Finney looking over his shoulder.

The van doesn’t move.

The window is down.

Finney follows after the siblings.

Bruce looks at Finney with worry.

“I should call my mom to pick us up.”

“The van goes away after a while on its own. He doesn’t bother getting out to follow,” Finney explains. Looks back again. “You should still call just in case.”

Finney doesn’t know if either is any safer if they stuck together. Does not want to risk either of them. Amy was just a little girl, small and easy to grab. Easy to knock down if the man was just going to go after Bruce.

He follows them to a payphone, checking the road from where he could still see them.

The magician was gone for now.

But that didn’t mean the van wouldn’t return for Bruce.

“Remember. Run like its the winning point,” Finney mumbles, just loud enough for Bruce to hear him.

Bruce glances at him with the phone to his ear, nodding firmly.

Chapter Text

“Ring ring, Finney you have a call on line 5!”

Finney raises his wrist to his ear, clicking his tongue. “Hello?”

Robin cackles from where he was sitting on a cardboard box, Griffin drumming his fingers as he knelt besides it. Griffin twirls the detached phone cord around his finger, smiling. “Hi I have a complaint! One of your workers is so mean to me! He gave me a wet willy! A wet willy! That is super unprofessional of him, you need to fire him! Immediately!” Griffin says, grinning the entire time.

“A wet willy? Why that is very unprofessional! Did you catch his name?” Finney fakes a surprised gasp.

“Yes his name is-” Griffin squeals as Vance dives behind him, scooping him up and dragging him away. Robin nearly falls off the box laughing, having to hold himself up by an arm. 

“Ay, you snitchin’ on me to boss, are ya? Well I’ll give you something to cry home about!” Vance spins him around before tossing him down on the grass, following right after.

Finney watches them wrestle, Griffin playing just as dirty as Vance was. “Hey! Hey no biting! Ow!”

“Hello? Hello? Sir? Hm, must have hung up.” He puts his arm down, turning to look at Robin. Robin was red-faced from laughing so hard, watching Vance and Griffin battle it out. Finney smiles, then turns back to the show.

Vance comes out on top, but that was a given, the older boy kneeling on top of Griffin. Griffin looked put out, but not genuinely hurt in any manner, Vance leaning in.

“Say uncle.”

“Never!” Griffin says, wriggling. Vance doesn’t let up, letting him squirm like a worm for a little bit before he jostles him.

“Say uncle, Griffin. Say uncle.” Vance shakes Griffin again, hand right on the back of Griffin’s neck, flat.

Griffin, brave or stupid soul he is, denies Vance once more. The corner of Vance’s lip twitches up into a smile. “Alright, then guess we’ll have to get out the big guns.” He gets off, grabbing Griffin by his shirt and shorts and hoisting him up easily. Griffin scrabbles in the air as Vance carries him to Robin.

“Got ourselves a tough one, boss,” Vance announces before Robin gets a lapful of Griffin Stagg.

The cardboard box collapses under the force, Finney snickering behind his hand. Vance dusts off his hands and looks at Finney. He raises his hands, acting innocent.

Vance’s eyebrows lower a little, but he shrugs and walks off, Griffin and Robin still a pile on the ground.

Finney thinks about helping them up.

The thought passes him, and he just lets them struggle on their own.

“Finney!”

“Finn!”

Finney smiles at them, staying right where he was.

Three days later, Robin and Finney were walking with Vance and Billy from school. Well, three of them were, Billy slowly biking alongside them.

“So then Mrs. Carter was all like, ‘remember to read the full question!’ standing right next to me! And I was totally second guessing everything after that.” Billy shakes his head. “And I didn’t even misread anything. But no, give me a heart attack why don’t you, ma’am.”

Robin snickers. “Maybe it was for someone next to you.”

“Well either way, I’m not failing that quiz. Have you guys seen Griffin today? Did he not come for school?”

Finney shakes his head. “I haven’t. Maybe he stayed home today.”

“You want to go check up on him?” Robin asks.

Billy nods, and they all turn to head towards Griffin’s house. Vance doesn’t even argue, following after them in silence. Finney wonders what he’s thinking about. He’s got that face, the same one he uses when he’s concentrating on something. Does it take him all his energy just to think?

It must be a real thinker if he’s making that face.

As they walk, they see Bruce up ahead, biking the opposite way. He waves at them, the boys sans Vance waving back. Vance was apparently still very in thought. Bruce catches up to them and does a wide U-turn, siding up with Billy.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Griffin’s house. He didn’t show up to school,” Billy answers, Bruce nodding. “Where were you going?”

“Just out, but I can tag along. Hi Vance!”

Vance finally comes back to reality, but only to nod at Bruce before everyone loses him again to whatever mind palace Vance put himself in.

At least he was following them.

The trek to Griffin’s house didn’t take much longer. Bruce and Billy park their bikes at the curb, Finney heading up to the front door and ringing the doorbell.

The door opens, Ms. Stagg smiling. “Oh hi boys! Are you here for Griffin?”

Finney smiles and nods. “We were just wondering if Griffin was here, none of us saw him at school today.”

“Oh, Griffin just came down with a stomach ache. I’m blaming it on the ketchup from dinner last night, think it might have expired somehow,” She explains. “He’s asleep right now so he can’t be out to say hi, but I’ll tell him you came.”

“Thank you, Ms. Stagg!” Bruce says, Ms. Stagg smiling and shutting the door.

“Well, there’s our answer,” Billy says. “Taken down by evil ketchup. Poor kid.”

Robin shakes his head slowly. “Rest his soul.”

They head back onto the sidewalk, Bruce and Billy hopping back on their bikes. The group continue to walk, but now there was no real direction. Walking just to walk.

They end up in town, Bruce and Billy taking the lead, Finney and Robin hanging back while Vance stayed in the middle. Robin had started talking to Finney about going to see a movie with him next weekend when they hear something falling. Finney and Robin turn their heads at the same time, Finney seeing a ton of fruit tumbling out of a bag, a man on the other end of the sidewalk before the bend staring down at it. Bruce was the first to react, pedalling faster.

“Hey! You need help?”

Vance stops in his tracks, gaze set firm. Finney can’t help but stare as well.

As they get closer, Finney realises why the man seems so familiar.

The peek of black at the bend was all he needed before Vance was shouting at Bruce to come back.

Bruce looks back at his friend, then swerves as the man suddenly rushes at him, hand grabbing at air. Vance was already running, Finney and Robin at the boy’s heels. Billy bikes harder, Bruce overshooting and overcorrecting, tumbling off of his bike.

Vance turns his attention from the man to Bruce, grabbing and dragging him up, Bruce scrambling to get his feet underneath him. Winces when he puts pressure on his left leg. The man stares at them all, a grin in his eyes.

“Always together, aren’t you. Oh, look at you all.” The man says, voice awful familiar in a distant sort of way as he stands still, staring at the group of boys. Vance glares daggers at him, flipping him off.

“Fuck off!” He yells, the man laughing. It sends shivers down spines like falling rocks on a cliff, and Finney looks for the licence plate.

There is none. In the place of where the plate should be is an empty square.

Finney notes everything else about it, and he turns to run with the rest when the man started approaching them.

Billy is the fastest of them all, only because of the bike. Finney holds onto Robin’s hand as they rush off, Vance at the back with Bruce.

They leave Bruce’s bike there at the bend as Billy leads them to the nearest police station.

The lady at reception looks up at them. She recognises them, he’s sure, picking up the phone.

“Any available officer please come to the front for a small chat with some boys, please.”

Bruce had a sprained ankle. At least that’s what the officer told him after checking it.

Vance sat with him as Bruce iced it, Mr. and Mrs. Yamada in the office with the officer the boys had just spoken to. Billy had gone to the bathroom, Robin and Finney sitting a chair away from Vance. Bruce had a scraped knee and arm as well, but that was nothing.

Vance had his hand on Bruce’s knee.

“He tried to grab me,” Bruce whispers.

Vance nods. “He wouldn’t have gotten far with you.”

“He tried to grab at me.”

Vance squeezes his friend’s knee. Says nothing when Bruce turns to hide his face in him, only resetting his arm to rub Bruce’s back.

Robin leans his head on Finney’s shoulder, hand squeezing his.

“I hate that they haven’t caught him. We keep telling them but the stupid police won’t- do anything.”

Finney can hear Robin’s racing heart through his skull. “Idiots.”

“Idiots,” Robin echoes. “But they have to listen to Bruce’s parents.”

Finney hopes they’ll actually ramp up the search. This was getting ridiculous.

“How many more times.”

“I want this to be the last time. We keep telling them about the black magician van. How many magician van’s can there be in Denver?”

Finney doesn’t know. There might be more than they think by this point. He doesn’t want to be so aware of the streets. He’s a kid. Middle school. What kind of middle schooler had to be so aware of not being snatched off the streets because all of his friends keep getting in some asshole’s radar?

This is unfair. Finney looks down at his wrist. Stares at the coloured circles.

Did the world decide his soulmates were all cursed. What did their soul do in the previous life to be so hated.

A tan hand wraps around his wrist.

“I can hear you think, Finn. Stop.”

Finney breathes loud through his nose. Looks at Robin staring back at him.

“Robin, promise that you won’t be kidnapped?”

“Never, Finn. Not on your watch, not on my watch.” He squeezes his wrist. “We’re strong. We’re brave. We fight back.”

Finney sighs, nods. “I wish we were normal.”

“We are normal. All six of us. Not our fault. Come on, say it with me, Finn. Not our fault.”

“Not our fault.”

“Not our fault.” Robin squeezes his wrist again, then lets go. “Next week, we’re gonna go watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You, me, and the biggest pail of popcorn our money can buy.” He prods Finney on the sternum. “So think about that instead, got it amigo?”

Finney laughs, which was slightly watery and choked. “Alright.”

Robin grins wide. Turns to check on Bruce, who was still tucked in the crook of Vance’s neck. Vance was staring at the wall across from him, face neutral. Calm. He doesn’t react even as Robin goes to sit on the other side of Bruce, rubbing his back and saying comforting things.

Finney sits there alone, fists in his lap. Rubs at his soulmark, tapping the circles in order.

If the world was that infatuated in giving them grey hairs before even entering high school, then it was only two more times.

Two more times.

And it would be the hardest to watch. To feel.

Finney looks at Robin.

How long before the man tries again. Tries to go for his best friend.

He gives him a couple of days. The man is ballsy.

But nobody’s letting him win the game even one time.

When Griffin came back to school the next day and heard what happened, he wanted to see Bruce right after school. Of course nobody was about to stop him, so Finney had told Gwen to head home with Susie.

Gwen looked at all of them, Vance already walking off,  then nods.

“Tell him I said hi.”

“We will. Get home safe, okay?”

“I will.” Gwen jogs off to catch up with Susie, Susie looking up at the boys and waving at Finney. Finney waves back before walking in the opposite direction.

Bruce was fine, Griffin climbing on the couch to hug him. Vance sat down on the other side. Bruce laughs.

“Oh, the attention is great guys but really I’m fine.”

“It’s still scary,” Griffin mumbles into Bruce’s shoulder, loud enough that all of the boys heard.

Bruce’s smile falls slightly, eyes downcast.

“...Yeah. It was.”

Chapter Text

They visit Bruce every day for a whole week after that. Vance was quick to tell Bruce’s parents about what happened, close enough to them and mad enough about it to try. It was enough for them to put up posters about it, a neighbourhood watch for someone targeting children.

It was enough for now.

At the moment they were in Bruce’s room. Finney was looking at all the sport trophies Bruce had on the shelf. He’s been at it for a long time, with the earliest one dated 6 years ago. Finney’s had a few participation medals before. He’s more serious about sports now.

On the floor, Billy was scouring over a town map with Bruce. Billy had come to them with an idea, since he knows that the attempted kidnapper times four didn’t live on his paper beat. If they spent a few weeks cycling through the entire town at different points of time, they had to encounter the dirty van somewhere. At least, the man had to be someone in town. It made no sense if he was from out of town.

Griffin had gone to start calling him the Grabber. Made grabbing motions at himself in a wordless explanation to his reasoning. 

They all had agreed he was right about it. He hasn’t grabbed anyone yet though.

Yet.

Nobody wanted to think about it. But they were all thinking about it. Finney’s caught a few of them tracing circles in the places their soulmarks are. Robin would tap the colours in sequence of who was targeted, avoiding the red and purple triangle.

Yellow, Green, Grey, Blue. Yellow, Green, Grey, Blue.

Finney couldn’t blame him. Robin cared about all of them, and he cared that they were almost gone.

As Griffin crosses out non-residential places, Billy circling the places they saw the van for certain, Bruce and Vance leaning on each other, Finney thinks about what could have been.

Imagines standing in Bruce’s room without its inhabitant. Imagines seeing a different paperboy pass his street, or suddenly being freed of a legend of the school.

Finney doesn’t know what to make of it, so he doesn’t. He decides not to. Thinking about the worst when he has the best scenario now didn’t do anything.

They’re safe. Bruce was laughing when Vance suddenly jabbed him in the side, whispering something. Griffin had started fighting Billy with the pen, Billy keeping his steady and letting the younger boy whack at him.

Robin was here.

Robin, who has been with him for forever.

Robin. His best friend, Robin.

Finney doesn’t know what he’d do if Robin left. If he could stand it.

Maybe he was being cheesy, but he wants to grow up with Robin.

He wants to grow up with all of them. See them in highschool, do things highschoolers did.

Right now though, they were all wary of the roads that watched. Finney wishes he wasn’t made of vigilance, but what could he do about it.

At least he was still standing.

He joins the group and helps narrow down the search as best he could.

There was only so much they could put together. They’re not professional investigators. But it was enough to settle them a little.

His father had gone into a tizzy again. Finney doesn’t remember what for.

Gwen still gave him an apologetic look, pressing a bag of peas against his face. Finney will pretend his dad didn’t mean to throw his arm wide, hitting him in the face with a glass bottle.

It didn’t shatter. Gwen had yelled at their father for that. Told to shut up until he gave her something to scream about.

She did, if only to avoid retribution and get to treating Finney faster.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Finney says, because it was true. There was nothing to be sorry about. Their father was mad, end of story.

“Is Bruce okay?”

“Yep. He was complaining today.”

Gwen smiles curiously. “About what?”

“Well, he’s popular at school. I guess his sister or something slipped out the situation and now everyone’s been coddling him. He hates it.”

“Poor Bruce.”

Finney laughs a little. “Poor Bruce indeed. But he’s got a handle on it, is what he says. But I guess the more people who know the easier it can be, right?”

Gwen giggles.

Finney wonders if it’d even help. He doesn’t think so. Call him a pessimist, but Finney figures it’s gonna take just them to get this man pinned down and behind bars.

But the eyes help.

Finney takes over holding the cold peas to his face as Gwen lets go, rubbing her hands together.

Gwen stares at her hands for a while as she warmed them up. Looks up at Finney. “I hope we never see a missing poster on the news. Or they get solved quickly. Remember that one time when Laurie Connor went missing?”

Finney does. It was years ago. Laurie was some baby who had gone missing, mom in hysterics when she found out. Turns out the kid had gotten out through the doggy door and wandered several houses down, kept in place by an elderly lady who didn’t have a landline and couldn’t tell people.

It was quite a shock to a little Finney and Gwen, their mom holding them close and whispering that she loved them. That if something happened to get to a phone.

Finney sees the purple on his wrist peeking out from the bag.

The peas were beginning to melt, so Finney goes to return the bag. Steps quietly to not bother his dad and slides the peas back into the freezer.

He looks at the phone hanging on the wall.

Days pass. There is no news. Finney figured.

He spends the days with Robin and the others. They stuck to indoors or crowded areas. Don’t hang out where the road is in sight. Sticks together in pairs.

Unconscious rules. Simple rules. They just wanted to relax.

Robin was talking his ear off about a showing of Texas Chainsaw, how he was definitely taking Finney to come see. They were stalled by Bruce last week, but this time they definitely were going to see it together.

Finney couldn’t deny him. He was excited as well. Robin was so excited about it.

It was tomorrow. They were going to the movies together tomorrow.

Finney’s face was less bruised now. A little yellow, but not pitiful to look at. Robin had asked him the morning Finney arrived at school with such a stain on his face, cursing out his dad like it was any other day when Finney spilled the truth out to him.

Luckily they were hanging out at Robin’s house, not Finney’s house. Robin’s mom had work, so they were being watched by Robin’s uncle.

Not that it meant much. Robin’s uncle just stayed in his room and told them not to make a mess. Not that Finney would. Robin might, but Finney would never cause a ruckus on purpose.

Finney built a cardboard rocket out of scraps of boxes when Robin decided he needed to get energy out. Robin had been watching too many workout videos, he thinks, because watching him lift a small melon like it was a weight was pretty funny. Robin said it built muscle, which Finney didn’t doubt at all.

Still didn’t mean he couldn’t laugh at the imagery of Robin lifting a small melon over and over. Made Robin laugh and drop the melon for a good five minutes.

He slips the last piece on, investigating his handiwork before setting it aside. Robin had gotten 20 reps.

“Not bad, Robin!” He shouts despite being only a short distance away from him.

“Thanks, it’s all these hard gained muscle,” Robin says. He flexes an arm, Finney clapping.

Robin grins, teeth bared in pride. He rolls the melon towards Finney. “Alright cohete espacial, your turn!”

“Huh?” Finney sits up, the melon gently rocking into his knee. Robin nudges the melon against Finney’s knee again.

“You heard me! I did a few lifts, now its your turn! Come on, you scared you can’t beat my record?” Robin teases.

Finney rolls his eyes at him, but picks up the melon. It’s not heavy, so the first few lifts weren’t bad, Robin counting each lift.

It starts hurting a few more lifts in, Robin encouraging him to go one more time.

Finney drops the melon after 16 times. Robin swings his arm around Finney, pulling him in and giving him a noogie. Finney swats at him, Robin laughing.

“Not the hair! Not the hair!”

“Aww, you were so close Finn!”

“Maybe next time.”

“Next time.” Robin lets go of him, Finney pulling back and trying to straighten his hair back to normal. Robin flopping down on the ground, moving around a few scraps Finney cut from.

“Hey Finn?”

“Hm?”

“I hope we kill the Grabber.”

Finney sits down across from him. “That’s harsh.”

“So? I want him dead. My dad could beat him up for messing with us.”

“Would he?”

Robin nods. “Course he would, he’s my dad.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“I know.”

“You would. Vance would. You guys are scaaaary.”

Robin smiles. “You know it.”

“I don’t want the blood on our hands. It’s murder.”

“Not unless its necessary?” Robin asks.

Finney thinks about it for a bit.

“Maybe.”

Robin knocks over the cardboard tower he was building. “You’re the boss, Finn.”

“Hey, who made me the boss?”

“I did.” Robin jerks a thumb to himself.

Finney picks up a triangular shard of cardboard and flicks it at Robin. “Well then you’re the second in command.”

“Aww sweet.”

That night, Finney lays in bed and goes to sleep.

He dreams of him and Robin and Bruce and Vance and Billy and Griffin, all dressed like knights. There’s a black dragon, spewing smoke and twinkling fake lights. They’re fighting it hard together.

The dragon would snap at each one, getting closer and closer each time.

He wakes up when the dragon snaps him right up. He sits up in bed, sweat on his brow. He looks for his alarm clock, reading the time.

It’s three in the morning. Finney grabs the glass of water sitting on his nightstand, takes a few deep gulps.

That was an odd dream. Just a dream.

Finney wonders if Gwen gets silly dreams like that mixed in with the rest. Dreams that made no lick of sense.

She must.

Finney sets the glass down and gets comfortable in bed again.

He goes back to sleep, his dream resuming. There they all stood, Finney front and centre with a dead dragon at his heels.

The kingdom cheers for them.

He wakes up as confused as before, but figures the stress of safety had gotten to him. At least it ended well.

Odd dream, it was. He checks the time then slinks out of bed, getting ready for the day.

Gwen greets him in the kitchen, waffles stacked on both of their plates. Their dad doesn’t look up at either of them, reading a newspaper.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing much. Am I walking home alone again?”

Finney shakes his head. “No, we have time.”

Robin had told him they were going to sneak around the back. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have the money, Finney had the money, Robin simply stated it would be more fun that way. He had his ways. Finney believed him.

Gwen gives a knowing smirk. “Well you have fun then.”

“I will. Don’t fall over bored without me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

After breakfast they walk to school together as usual, Gwen complaining about an upcoming quiz or what so and so had done. Finney listened to all of it.

Billy greets them at the entrance, still locking up his bike. They all split paths from there, Finney sliding into first period.

He sees Robin pass by the still open door, grinning and mimicking a chainsaw in his direction.

Finney smiles.

Chapter Text

He was sitting in front of the movie theatre, waiting for Robin.

And waiting.

And waiting.

Finney drums his fingers on his lap.

His eyes scan the street on either side of him, no sign of the black haired boy.

Finney gets up, walking to the phone booth. He digs a quarter from his pocket, dialling the phone number to Robin’s house.

It rings once, twice, then picks up.

“Hola?”

“Hi. Is- Is Robin home?” Finney wracks his brain, trying to remember the Spanish for it. “Robin, ah…. Casa…?”

Robin’s mama laughs, but answers. “No, no en casa.”

Finney chokes back worry back into his chest. “Thank you.”

Robin’s mum hums over the line, telling him something Finney thinks is an invite to come over soon, he’s never completely sure, and he hangs up.

Finney shudders a breath. He steps away from the phone, his hand enclosing around his wrist.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

He’s got this. He’s thinking too hard about this.

Finney goes back to the theatre, the poster for the Texas Chainsaw Massacre hanging outside in its frame.

His eyes sweep over it, then turns, pacing quickly down the sidewalk.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, exactly. Robin should be making his way to the theatre now.

Finney just wants to check around, see if Robin’s just running a little late.

He walks around, keeping his eyes peeled open for his best friend. Cars pass by, Finney tracking their colour and size to make sure it wasn’t what it could be.

It never is.

He circles back to the theatre, but there is no sign of Robin.

Finney thinks about it, then starts walking again.

The Grab N’ Go comes into view a few minutes later, no sign of Robin still.

Vance is there, like always. Doesn’t turn when Finney enters the shop and walks the aisle.

Finney approaches Vance from the side, the sound of the pinball echoing in the otherwise quiet store.

“Has Robin come in?”

Vance flicks the paddle. Shakes his head without looking at Finney at all.

“Thanks.” He leaves a quarter on the windowsill and walks out.

Which, now he’s rightfully panicking.

Finney fists his hand at his side, and starts running.

He doesn’t know where he’s going.

He just runs.

Griffin finds Finney standing in a ditch by the trees, the boy sliding down to meet him.

“Finney? What’s wrong?”

“Griffin, have-” Finney takes a breath. Griffin rests a hand on Finney’s arm, worry in his eyes. “Have you seen Robin? He was supposed to meet me by the theatre.”

Griffin’s eyes widen, fingers gripping Finney’s skin a little tighter. He shakes his head. “No. Do you think…?”

“I don’t want to assume, but there’s no other explanation for it. Robin wouldn’t ghost me. Not him. And his mom said he’s not home either so he has to be somewhere.”

Griffin gives him a hug, Finney wrapping an arm around the boy in turn.

“Have you checked his street yet?”

Finney nods. Of course he has. He’s checked the most common places Robin could have been, but there was no sign nor hair of him.

Griffin rocks in place, letting go. “Have you checked the hospital?”

Finney’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“The hospital. Maybe he got hurt and went there.”

It was a plausible idea. Finney nods, climbing out of the ditch. Griffin follows after.

The walk to the hospital was going to be long, so he follows Griffin back to his house instead. Griffin asks his mom to drive them there.

She doesn’t question them in the slightest, herding them into the car and driving them there. Finney’s nerves were alight, Griffin fiddling with his thumbs.

They enter the waiting room, Finney walking up to the receptionist.

“Um, has a Robin Arellano come by?”

“Are you family?”

Finney shakes his head. “He’s my soulmate, though.” He holds up his wrist.

The woman briskly nods, typing something. Shakes her head a moment later, Finney deflating in both sorrow and relief. “He hasn’t been checked in.”

“Alright, thank you.”

He turns and walks away, Griffin tilting his head at him.

“No luck?”

“No. But it means he’s not hurt.”

Griffin gives him a reassuring smile.

Ms. Stagg comes by, a similar smile on her face. “I called his mother, I know you didn’t ask but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t just back home.”

“Was she worried?”

“Sounded like it, yes. If you want, dear, I can drive you around town, see if you can spot him.”

“I don’t want to bother you-”

She waves him off. “Oh nonsense. It would be of no trouble to me!”

Finney sighs, relinquishing. “Okay. Thank you, Ms. Stagg.”

He doesn’t see him anywhere.

Griffin was looking out the other side, but there was nothing.

Finney asks Ms. Stagg to drop him off at home. Thanks her for the ride and waits until she leaves the street before he heads inside.

His dad was snoring on the couch, Finney walking past him and entering his room.

He lays down, staring at the ceiling.

A tear falls down his face. Finney furiously scrubs it away.

“Robin, where are you?” He whispers.

There is a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Gwen opens the door, approaching her brother.

“Finney? Billy called.”

“Huh?”

Gwen frowns at him in worry. “Something happened. Said something about a close call. He wants you to come over to Bruce’s house.”

Finney sits up, frowning.

“A close call?”

Gwen nods. “You better go now. It sounded urgent.”

Finney takes a deep breath.

“Okay.”

Finney walked up to the Yamada’s front door, knocking. The door swings open, Bruce on the other side.

“Oh good, you made it-”

“What’s wrong?”

Bruce motions him inside, Finney taking his shoes off at the entrance among many others neatly lined up.

He sees a familiar pair, and that was all he needed before he’s racing into the house, calling his name.

“Robin!”

“Finney! In here!” Billy calls out from somewhere, and Finney practically races into a bathroom.

Robin looks up from where he was sitting on the toilet lid, bandages wrapped around both arms, Billy plastering a butterfly bandage to his forehead.

“Hey Finn.”

“Robin-” Finney’s voice cracks, Robin smiling.

“Sorry, I got held up.”

Finney comes forth, grabbing at Robin’s extended hand. “What happened?”

“He almost got me, Finn.”

“He…? You mean-”

Billy shuts the first aid kit. “The Grabber.”

Finney looks at his friend. “You got out.”

“I got out. Jumped out of a moving vehicle, but I got out.” Robin sniffs. There’s blood still stained around his nose. “He came up so suddenly, but he messed up whatever he tried to knock me out with. I don’t think he realised.”

Bruce walks into the bathroom, the room thankfully large enough that it didn’t feel so cramped. He sets a glass of water down on the table. “Billy found him biking past. Here, painkiller.” Bruce hands Robin a blister pack. Robin pops it, taking the pill with a small grimace. Bruce hands him the cup to wash it down.

Finney looks at Billy, gratitude in his eyes. Billy only nods in return, getting up to wash his hands from the blood.

“You look rough.”

Robin chuckles, warming Finney that he was at least emotionally alright. “Jumping out of a moving car does that to you. Nothing is broken.” Robin rotates his shoulder. There’s a flash of a grimace, but he hides it well.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re okay Robin.”

Robin smiles, rotating to face Finney. “We can watch the the movie another day. You look rough too, Finn. Come on, I just want to go sit on the couch. Bruce has some other movies we can watch in the meantime.”

“My parents took Amy out to dance practice, so we don’t have to worry about them,” Bruce says. “You can use the living room for as long as you want. Robin, do you want to call your mom first?”

“Por favor.”

Bruce helps Robin to his feet, Finney taking up the other side. Robin whines a little, but his legs were definitely wobbly as the two helped him to the couch. There was a phone sitting right next to the couch, Robin taking it and dialling his mother.

Billy takes his leave right after, Robin calling out a thanks to the boy for helping him. Bruce disappears into the kitchen, coming back and setting a bowl of Doritos in front of them.

Robin hangs up the phone, sighing. “Mama’s worried for me. Said my uncle’s gonna pick me up later. I convinced her to let me stay for another hour.” He smiles at Bruce. “What movie’s do you got?”

Finney catches a ride home with Robin, his uncle hugging his nephew the moment they left Bruce’s house. He hugged Finney as well, asking if he was alright as well even though Finney was completely fine physically.

“Stay safe, please.” Finney half pleaded to Robin, Robin giving him a thumbs up.

“Course. I think I need to sleep for a whole month. Don’t think mama is gonna be letting me out of her sight for a bit.” Robin leans out of the window. “Come visit, please.”

Finney nods, Robin rolling up the window as the car drove off. Finney turns and heads back home. Gwen greets him, their father only looking up from the chicken fried steak on his plate.

“Your sister saved some for you.”

Finney sits down next to Gwen, half of a chicken steak with a cup of white gravy sitting in front of him. He drowns it, then takes a bite. It was lukewarm, but still edible.

Gwen leans over. “Is he okay?”

Finney nods. “He’s… fine enough.”

“That’s not an answer, Finney.”

Finney glances at his father, but it seems he’s checked out, mindlessly shovelling food into his mouth.

“He was almost… you know.”

Gwen gasps.

“He escaped. He was so close to-” Finney scrapes his fork on the plate, his father glancing up at him.

He prods at the side of broccoli instead. Chew on the soggy top. “He’s back. He’s back.” Finney holds back his tears, knowing his father was sitting right across from him and would hate it. He can do it later, when he’s alone.

Gwen rubs his back.

“He’s back,” She echoes, a reassurance.

Everyone goes to visit Robin after school. Robin laughs when all five boys plus Gwen come tumbling into his room. His bandages have all been changed, his forehead bearing actual stitches instead of the butterfly bandages Billy had put on him.

“Didn’t know we were having a party today.” He teases.

Gwen crosses her arms, worry in her eyes. “Well it might as well be one. You almost died.”

Robin raises an arm. “ Hey, I didn’t! Don’t go making up lies Blake.”

“Was it scary?” Griffin asks, sitting down besides Robin’s leg. Robin merely shrugs, thumbing at his arm where the bandages ended and next bare skin.

“I’ve been through worse!”

“Don’t think that attempted kidnapping counts as a number two,” Billy mutters.

Robin waves him off. “Thanks again though, don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Billy smiles a little.

Vance leans against the doorframe, eyes narrowed. “I do. I think you would have woke up and stumbled home yourself. Did you go to the hospital?”

Robin lifts up his hair where it had fallen over his forehead. “Pretty slick, eh?”

Griffin poked a finger near the stitched cut. “Do you have a concussion?”

Robin waves his hand side to side. “Yeah, but it’s mild. My arms took the majority of the damage. Doc said I’m pretty lucky not to have gotten anything worse.”

Griffin nods, pleased.

Finney climbs up onto Robin’s bed. He reels back, punching Robin on his uninjured shoulder. “Don’t do that ever again.”

Robin smiles. His eyes are shiny. “Got it, mi estrella. I promise.” He looks at all of them, then grins. “Who wants to sign my cast?”

“You’re not even wearing one!”

“And for that you will sign last, Gwen.”

Chapter Text

Finney visited Robin every day at the Arellano home during his healing process. Robin appreciated the gesture, especially since Finney would help him in whatever homework they needed to work on. The school had allowed Robin a grace period in turning things in since both of his arms were injured, but it wasn’t as if Robin’s arms were completely broken. It simply hurt to write. They were getting better now, the wounds nothing more than healed scabs and pink skin.

Robin groans, leaning back in his chair, Finney sitting on Robin’s bed. “My arm is at its limit, Finn. I’m taking a break,” Robin says, Finney not looking up from the reading packet he needed to finish. Robin taps his pencil on the edge of the desk before putting it down. “Hey Finn.”

“Hey Robin.”

Robin scoots closer. “How have you been?”

“Keeping on keeping on.”

Robin scoots even closer. His knee knocks against Finney’s, and the boy rises, flopping down next to Finney. “I’m getting my stitches taken out tomorrow, so I won’t be at school.” Robin picks at his head. “I’m gonna have a pretty sick scar.”

Finney grins, looking up. “Yeah you are.”

Robin grins. “When mama lets me out of the house again, we should go.”

“Go?” Finney echoes. “You mean the movies?”

“For real this time. No one to stop us. Griffin says his mama will drive us right there so there’s no way we’ll get surprised on the streets.”

Finney smiles. That sounds nice. He’s glad Griffin’s mom cared so much. She had sent Griffin to the house with containers of food several times, Griffin repeating after his mom that she wanted ‘Robin to heal up fast and be a boy again’ although Griffin always mentioned that Robin didn’t lose his manhood. Robin always thanked Griffin anyways.

“I’m gonna look so badass,” Robin mutters to himself.

Finney hears him anyways, laughing and flipping the page. “You always look badass, Robin.”

Robin nods, then gets an idea. He nudges Finney. “Finn?”

“Hm?”

Robin is quiet for a bit, staring at his friend. He squeezes his arm. “I want to teach you something. Come on.” He tugs at Finney’s arm.

Finney looks at Robin. There was a determined expression on his face. He sets down the reading packet, following Robin as the other boy pulled him outside. Robin then hands him a rock. It was quite large, but Finney could still hold it in his hand without needing his other hand to support it.

“I’m going to teach you to fight for yourself.”

Finney blinks, clutching the stone. “Robin, you know I’m not a fighter like you are.”

“No, Finn. I want to teach you something.” Robin plants his feet, fists up. “There’s a pattern, there is no way you’re missing it. You’re smart. It’s targeting us. And you’re the only one left.” Robin stares straight at his friend. “You’re the last one, Finn. Just in case, I want to know that you can at least fight back. Even if nothing happens, even if it ends with me, you deserve to at least know. I believe in you. Besides, that’s a lie.”

“What is?” Finney questions.

“That you’re not a fighter. You are Finn. Sure you suck at doling one out, but you take ‘em fine. A fight isn’t one-sided. You gotta take and dish out. So repeat after me.”

Finney laughs, Robin teaching him to swing the rock without losing it. Robin knew Finney wasn’t good enough with his bare hand, so using a weapon will have to do. The first few times, Finney accidentally lobbed the rock or dropped it, Robin telling him to pick it up again.

Raise the weapon.

Take one fast step back.

One step forward.

Step back.

And swing.

Again.

That was what Robin made him do, over and over. Finney thinks if he had to use a weapon, it probably wouldn’t be a rock. A bat would work just fine. Bat’s were good weapons.

But if something happened, he couldn’t be reliant that he’d have his bat. It happened whenever. Rocks were everywhere. Finney could protect himself. Had to.

Robin gave him several other things to swing against an invisible assailant, like branches, random scraps of metal, and even a bike. Finney thinks beating someone up with a bike was ridiculous, but he can certainly imagine it. Biking down a path, the van approaching him…

He’s glad Robin was here showing him how to fight him off.

They head back inside after an hour to finish homework, Robin jokingly complaining the entire time.

“Thank you Ms. Stagg!” Finney waves as he and Robin watch Ms. Stagg’s care drive away.

Robin grabbed his hand immediately, dragging him to a secret entrance into the theatre, straight to where the movie was showing. He sits Finney down in one of the empty seats. “I’ll be back with popcorn!” He whispers, although the place was mostly empty of people. It was still daylight after all, and not many people watched scary movies so early in the day. It ruined the experience or something, at least that’s what he’s heard.

Robin didn’t care in the slightest, seemingly happy to be finally watching the movie.

Robin returns a while later, the trailers still running. He drops a bucket of popcorn on Finney’s lap, as well as a drink cup. “I bought the drink, but the popcorn box was sitting on the top of the trash unharmed so I got a free refill. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay Robin. Good thinking.”

Robin beams, sitting next to Finney as they waited for the movie to start. It started soon enough, both boys enraptured as the movie played.

At some point, Finney feels a warm palm on his. He glances down, Robin’s hand sitting on top of his where it was resting on the arm rest. Robin wasn’t holding it, just resting on top, settled.

Finney smiles a little. They did it.

The movie eventually ends, the lights coming on again. Robin turns towards him excitedly. “That. Was. Amazing.”

Finney grins back. “Yeah it was.”

Robin gets up, the pair exiting the theatre. The entire time, the pair talked about the movie, regaling their favourite parts. They walked home together, Robin splitting up with him with a wave.

“Thanks Finn! Walk safe, okay amigo?”

Finney grins, waving back.

He gets home in one piece, flopping down on his bed. He was smiling still, happy that he got to see the movie with Robin. Finally. It was worth all the wait, even if there were multiple hiccups.

Finney rolls over, sighing into his pillow. So many hiccups.

Robin’s eager smile made it worth it.

A van drives by Finney’s house, slow and steady. Inside, a man was sitting, staring at the house with a smile.

“Soon,” He mutters. “Soon we’ll be together. As the world intended.”

The van drives away, passing by a creek a few minutes later.

A head pops out from inside the creek, glaring at the van.

Vance throws a rock at the van, missing by a ton. There was no way the van could see him anyways.

Regardless, he had a bad feeling.

Chapter Text

Finney woke up to his wrist itching.

It was weird.

Finney sits up in bed, scratching at his wrist. It’s dark out still, Finney looking at his alarm clock.

Midnight.

Finney’s wrist still stings. Silent as a mouse Finney climbs out of bed and heads to the bathroom. Maybe washing it under cold water would soothe it.

He shuts the door before turning on the light, looking at his wrist.

It looked fine. It wasn’t red. Everything was the way it should be. Finney traces the circle printed on it. He wonders why it itches so bad. Turning on the water he makes sure not to run it too loud before shoving his wrist underneath it.

The stinging pain settles after a while. Finney yawns and rubs at his eyes. It’s late, he’s tired.

Once Finney was sure he was fine he turns off the water, dabbing it dry on a towel. The lights go out before he opens the door. Finney lays back down in bed with a sigh.

He shuts his eyes.

His alarm rings in his ears like he never went to sleep at all, and he swats at it blindly. He reads the number, seeing a normal time for a kid to be awake.

Gwen is waiting for him at the breakfast table. His father is nowhere to be seen. There’s eggs laid atop triangular slices of toast for him, Gwen greeting him when he sits down.

“Where’s dad?”

“Out.” Gwen takes a bite of her toast, already half gone. “Said he needed to do something.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Gwen shakes her head, swallowing.

It wasn’t too weird, he guesses.

Finney looks down at his plate.

“Gwen?”

“Yeah?”

Finney picks at his egg. Pokes at the yolk, making the yellow spill over. “Did you have any weird dreams lately?” He asks.

Gwen shakes her head. “Not lately. Why, did you?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Finney opens his mouth, then shuts it.

“Finn…” Gwen calls in a singsong kind of way, kicking his leg underneath the table. “What’s wrong.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Wouldn’t get what?”

Finney turns over his wrist. “Has your soulmark ever itch?”

“Finney you know mines isn’t active.”

“I know but. Still,” Finney says. “Has it ever itched?”

“Hmmm, no. Not yet. Maybe you just touched something weird when you slept.” Gwen leans forward, grabbing his hand. “Doesn’t look rashy.”

“Right? But I woke up and it was itchy for some reason.”

Gwen rotates his hand in hers for a little bit, brows knitted together. She shrugs. “Maybe it was a soulmate thing.”

“But they don’t do that. Do they?”

“Ask the others, see if they experienced the same thing.”

That was a good idea. Finney thanks her, Gwen smiling before they went back to eating breakfast.

After breakfast, Finney washed the dishes. Gwen watches TV in the living room, following after the stretching exercises running on screen. Finney goes to the phone, taking it off its hook and dialling Robin.

He picks up immediately.

“Hola! Arellano residence Robin speaking!”

“Hey Robin.”

“Hey Finn! How’s it going?”

“It’s going. Hey, can I ask you a weird question?” Finney leans against the wall, phone cradled in his hands.

“Sure Finn, what’s up?”

Finn fiddles with the cord, wrapping it over and over his index idly. “Has.. Has your shoulder ever itch randomly? For no reason at all?”

“Not really. Why? What’s up with your wrist?”

“How’d you know?”

Robin laughs on the other end. “Well you asked about my shoulder amigo.”

Finney laughs as well. “You got me.”

“You gonna answer my question?” Robin asks.

Finney looks down at his wrist. “It’s fine now. Just itched for some reason. Think it means something?”

“I don’t know, Finn, I’m not a super special future reader. Might have slept wrong on it. Wash your sheets, maybe it needs a good cleaning.”

“Oh you sound just like a mom,” Finney teases. He can hear Robin smiling through the receiver. Laughs when Robin busts out the best impression of his mama.

Finney bids him goodbye after a few more minutes. He goes to find Gwen, his sister still by the TV bending down and touching the tip of her toes.

“Robin didn’t feel anything.”

“No?” Gwen straightens herself. “Then maybe it was just a weird itch.”

It could have.

Finney shrugs it off, joining his sister in attempting to pose like the woman on the TV.

“Do you think it’s a bad omen?” He asks.

Gwen shrugs, a curious look on her face.

Over the next few days, Finney had forgotten about the strange occurrence. It was just that: Strange. 

At the current he was walking with Billy, his dog trotting between them with a particularly neat stick Harper had found a couple of blocks down. Both boys tried to take it from the pooch to throw, but Harper just growled every time they tried. Harper was pleased enough just to have it.

Billy’s bike was out for repairs after some unfortunate accident with a nail in the road. Finney’s been listening to Billy talk about the news, even though Finney knew the news. Billy wasn’t actually inputting any point of his own thoughts into it though. The kid was in fact just reciting today’s newspaper from memory, even if Finney wasn’t exactly sure if Billy was getting it all right.

It didn’t matter, Billy seemed to be having a great time. In return, Finney just started spouting space facts.

They turn the corner, reaching the Grab N’ Go. Finney parts from Billy there, waving at him as he entered the store.

A man walks past him, whispering a small apology as he bumped into him. Finney nods and slinks past, going to grab some snacks. Vance was in the corner as usual, but Griffin was there too.

“Hey Griffin.”

“Hi Finney!” Griffin greets back. Vance doesn’t say anything, mind focused primarily on his game. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” Finney leans on the wall next to where Griffin was sitting. “What about you?”

“Same. Been stacking quarters.” Griffin points to the windowsill, where some quarters had been stacked in a sort of pyramid formation next to some stacked in a rather tall and precarious tower. “But I got bored of that so now I’m sitting over here.”

Vance smacks the pinball machine in frustration as the game concludes, then slots another quarter and has at it again. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the other two.

“How long has he been standing there.”

“All day I think. Hey, wanna thumb wrestle?” Griffin sticks his hand out. Finney takes it in his, the two wrestling with the background sounds of a metal ball rolling around in the pinball machine.

Eventually even Vance was done with his game, crouching down to watch them. It was an even tie between Griffin and Finney at the moment, Vance stealing Finney’s soda.

“Hey, my soda!”

Vance only shrugs, cracking it open and sipping it. “You snooze you lose.”

Finney huffs, then huffs again louder when Griffin pins his thumb down. The smaller boy cheers, raising his other hand up in victory.

“Hey, no fair I was distracted!”

“You snooze you lose!” Griffin says. Vance grins, high-fiving the other boy.

Finney laughs, stealing his soda back and wiping off the top. “Alright fine. You two hanging out together now?”

Vance scowls, scoffing and looking away. “What you mean? This is my spot. Griffin just stayed here for some fuckin’ reason.”

“Yeah I did~” Griffin chirps. “Vance is a terrible conversation partner-”

“Eh.” Vance shrugs.

“But he doesn’t really stop me from chatting so here I am.” Griffin rocks back and forth in place.

Makes sense.

Finney gets up, waving to Griffin and Vance.

“You walking back home alone?” Vance asks, getting up again.

“Yeah.”

Griffin looks between him and Vance, rocking himself into standing up in one smooth motion. “You want me to come with?”

“Ah, that’s alright.” Finney waves him off. “Didn’t you walk here yourself?”

Griffin blinks. Nods at Finney.

“See? I’m a big boy Griff I can handle the walk home. You have a bad feeling or something?”

“Hm.” Griffin rubs his tummy. “I think I just have a stomach ache.”

Vance scoffs, pushing Griffin. “I told you not to drink so much. What does a kid your size need three bottles of water for? Go to the bathroom you idiot.” He’s still pushing at Griffin, Griffin giggling and trying to resist.

It doesn’t work, Finney waving at them before leaving the Grab N’ Go with his soda and crisps.

As he walks along the empty streets, he gets a bad feeling.

His wrist itches.

Finney scratches at it idly.

Suddenly someone grabs him from behind, something held against his face. Finney struggles, but the grip is far too tight. His nose catches something weirdly sweet.

“Shhh, just go to sleep… I’m not failing this time. Not this time…”

Finney drops his soda, spilling it everywhere before it all went dark. The last thing he heard was a low, pleased giggle.

Chapter Text

Gwen wakes up with a gasp and sweat on her forehead.

“Finney.” Her brother’s name slips past her lips, Gwen lifting herself up off of the couch that she had been napping on.

She rubs her eyes, her throat dry. Gwen hops up off of the couch and shuffles to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it up at the sink. She chugs it down, settling her nerves back down.

Her brother was fine. He was…

Did he come home?

Gwen wanders through the house, passing her brother’s room. The door was open, Gwen peeking inside.

Her brother wasn’t home yet.

For some odd reason her stomach felt heavy.

Finney was just out of the house, it wasn’t weird. He went out all the time to hang out with his soulmates.

Yet…

Gwen scurries to the phone, setting her water down and dialling the Arellanos. She’s memorised the number by now whenever she wanted to check when Finney was making his way home.

The phone picks up.

“Hola! This is-”

“Robin, is Finney with you?”

“Huh? Gwen? No, why?”

Gwen shifts nervously, clutching the phone hard. Her stomach still felt too heavy.

“Robin, do you know where my brother is at all? Is he with the others?”

“Don’t know. I can ask.”

“Can you?”

“Course, anything for you. I’ll come back with an update in a bit, okay? I’m sure Finn’s just hanging out, don’t get your stomach too caught up in knots. Not good for digestion!” Robin teases at the end.

Gwen laughs, though it was forced. “Thanks Robin.”

“No problem. Talk to you soon!” The line cuts there, Gwen hanging up the phone.

It was fine.

Finney was fine.

Gwen frowns.

She needs to check something, just to be positively sure.

“Oh please don’t let it be bad… Let it be good news…” Gwen mumbles, heading to her bedroom.

“Finney? He left a couple minutes ago.” Vance answers, leaning against the windowsill of the Grab N’ Go. “Probably went on home.”

“He didn’t go home, Vance!” Robin says, now a little worried. “Gwen called me and asked if Finn was with me! That means he’s not at home.”

Vance drums his fingers on the side of the pinball machine, thumb fidgeting with the side button. “Well I don’t know what to tell you but he isn’t here.”

Griffin leans forward, a worried look on his face. “You don’t think he…?”

Robin purses his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t want to believe he did.”

“You don’t want to, but you think that’s the truth?”

Robin shakes his head even harder. “I don’t want to believe it. I don’t. Finney wouldn’t get- He’s been the one warning us all! He knows the risk, we all do!”

Vance holds down the button, looking at the ceiling. “He might have been surprised and didn’t have time to run from the risk. Finney was alone. Usually there was all of us when the fucking thing showed up. We’d be far away by then.” Vance’s eyebrows furrow. “Finney was walking alone. The streets are just right there.”

Griffin whimpers. “Finney was all alone.”

Robin sucks in a breath.

“We need to tell the police.”

“Welcome back, boys.” The lady receptionist greets, picking up the phone. “Another complaint about the mystery van?”

“Actually, we’re here to report an actual kidnapping.”

The receptionist raises an eyebrow. “A real one?”

Robin and Griffin both nod.

The receptionist nods back, rustling in the cabinet behind her before slipping something to the boys on a clipboard. “Fill that out, I will call an officer out to speak with you about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, with how often your little group shows up here I might as well humour it if its as real as you say.”

“It is,” Vance grumbles, Robin walking over to sit down on one of the chairs to fill out the information. Vance and Griffin sit on either side of him, Robin going through the page rather quickly.

It was his best friend after all, Robin prided himself on knowing his best friend.

The door swings open again, the three boys looking up.

“Gwen!”

Gwen turns to look at them, running over. Her eyes were red.

“Robin- Robin it’s-”

“Yeah. I know.”

Gwen scrubs at her eyes. “I saw him. In my dreams.”

“Your dreams,” Vance monotonously states.

Gwen nods rapidly. “I’ll explain it to you later Hopper but- But Robin I saw him. He was in a basement or something, and he was unconscious and-” Gwen chokes as tears flood her eyes, Robin putting the clipboard aside to catch Gwen in a hug.

“Hey, amiga, it’s gonna be alright. Let it out. Your brother’s gonna be fine.”

“But he’s not ! Robin he’s-”

“Kidnapped. We know. I’m sorry. Lo siento, Gwen.”

Gwen hiccups, clinging to Robin.

“What are we gonna do?” She mutters.

“Gwen. I don’t know if we can even do anything,” Griffin mutters. “We can run, but…”

Gwen shakes her head. “No. We have to do something. This is- We have to.”

Vance huffs. “What, like we can find the dumb sucker who took Finney? What the hell are we gonna do, we barely even know where that accursed van even comes from. Clearly the police ain’t doing enough patrolling our city.”

Gwen pulls out of Robin’s hold, sniffling. “We can try. I can look for him. We can start there.”

Robin reaches out, taking her hand.

“We can start there. But first, we need to let everyone know. The more the merrier?”

Gwen glances at the clipboard, nodding.

It would make her brother’s disappearance real, but.

But it was a start.

Finney sits up, looking around an empty basement. He takes a deep breath, taking in the surroundings.

He gets up, walking over to the stairs. He’s alone, for now.

Finney walks up slow.

Tries the knob.

It’s locked.

Finney’s trapped down here.

He walks back downstairs.

There was at least a bathroom down here, Finney staring into the toilet bowl.

The phone didn’t make noise when he picked it up.

“That hasn’t worked in ages.”

Finney drops the phone, making it smack against the wall as he turns around.

A man in a black coat stands there, a devil mask on his face.

The Grabber.

Finney steps back, back against the wall.

“Oh, don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I just… wanted to see you, really quick.”

“Who are you,” Finney whispers.

“You don’t need to know that. You must be hungry. Do you like eggs? A soda? I’ll get you a soda.” The man turns and walks away. As he reaches the stairs, he turns back around.

“I’ll be back to explain everything. Don’t go anywhere.”

The Grabber disappears up the stairs, shutting the steel door behind him.

He’s alone now.

Finney slides down to the floor, staring at the door silently.

He needs to go.

He has to go.

Finney clenches his fist.

He can’t let him win.

“Anything?”

Gwen sits up, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

Griffin slides off of the armrest and onto the ground. “I’m worried.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Robin was sitting by Gwen, looking between her and the front door.

“This isn’t funny, Finn.” Robin whispers.

“Wherever you are, come back home. Please.”

Chapter Text

Finney stays awake watching the door. Watching and waiting.

It felt like ages since he woke up in the unfamiliar basement. Finney didn’t have a clock down here, as much as he loathes it.

He had the sunlight telling him the time, at least.

It’s gotten dark by now, but it was hard to tell where the sun’s position was. The Grabber hasn’t come back down yet.

Finney was feeling peckish by now. He didn’t eat much before the whole kidnapping, and he didn’t even get to finish his soda.

Finney paces the ground, thinking to himself. There had to be something he can do, right?

His eyes catch the phone on the wall, the receiver still dangling from its hook.

No, that’d be silly. The phone didn’t work, that’s what the man said. It didn’t have a tone either, so he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t call for help.

Finney wonders if he yells loud enough someone will hear him.

The kidnapper might.

Looking back at the door, he squints at it for a long time. Imagines the door leading straight outside, where he’d collapse in the arms of his friends and sister.

Wishful thinking, of course. Finney knows it didn’t work like that. He also imagines the kidnapper taking a fat tumble and knocking himself unconscious at the bottom where Finney could make a run for it.

Again, more wishful thinking. If he was even lucky he might actually make it out day one.

Not a chance. He’s stuck here for now.

Finney’s checked the walls, the toilet bowl, everything. There’s nothing worth anything down here, just a ratty mattress.

Finney kicks at the wall with the toe of his shoe. 

He stares at it for a long time, thinking.

How long will the Grabber keep him alive? Will he keep him alive? Finney hopes so, he doesn’t want this to be the end. All this avoiding only to lose.

What a joke.

The sound of the door catches his attention, Finney turning his head slow.

The Grabber looks back at him from beneath the mask. He’s carrying a plate with a pile of dull yellow eggs, a green bottle balanced on top.

“What are you doing? Here, I brought you food. You must be hungry.” He sets the plate down on the ground, though his face never looks away from where Finney was standing.

Finney’s feet shifts, pointing towards the door. The Grabber tsks, straightening up so fast it startles him a little.

“Now now, don’t be naughty. Running away from me again? You have nothing better to do, do you. I don’t like it when boys are being… naughty .” The Grabber turns to him, laughing. “And believe me, you’ve been an awfully naughty boy to me. You and all the boys.”

“This is wrong.”

“No.” The Grabber shakes his head. “I’m just doing what is right. How else will I… keep you close?” He clasps the side of his mask. “I just want you boys close… You make it so hard to keep you.”

Finney feels gross listening to that man talk about him. The Grabber doesn’t move from where he stands. “You have questions, I can see it.”

Of course he has questions. He also wants answers.

All Finney can say to him is, “Why.”

The Grabber stares at him for a long time in silence.

Finney stares right back. He’s not scared.

He stuffs that to the back of his head. Finney wasn’t scared.

“I just… I wanted. That’s all.” The Grabber strokes his own cheek again. “And now I have one of six. And if you behave, then maybe I can let you see the others again. Maybe.” The Grabber whispers, then turns and leaves. Finney follows after him silently, watching the steel door shut.

He waits a whole minute before walking up to the door, slowly testing the lock.

It’s unlocked.

He takes a step back, staring at the lock.

Not now.

It’s too early to try.

Finney heads back downstairs, poking at the bottle. He twists the cap off and takes a hesitant sip.

He cringes at the flat taste.

Never mind, he can last a little longer without it. He pinches off a bit of the egg and nibbles on it.

That he spits out.

“Ugh, can’t even feed me properly. This sucks.”

“It sucks we don’t have, like. An internal soulmate compass.”

Vance looks up from where he was staring into a glass bowl, Griffin sliding off of Bruce’s couch. Bruce gives a small smile, but it fades quickly.

“That’d be cool. But that’s not how they work,” Bruce says, “Otherwise I’m pretty sure Vance would already be charging in swinging.”

“Yeah I would,” Vance announces. “Round two, but this time he’s not getting back up ever. I’ll break everything.”

Robin fidgets with his bandanna that was wrapped around his hand, staring out of the window. Billy rubs at his back slowly.

“We’ll find him.”

“I know we will. He’s a strong kid. Finn never goes down easily. But,” Robin’s eyebrows knit together. “That doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“I know. I’m worried too. We all are.”

Vance sets the glass bowl down on the table, making a loud sound that catches all of the boy’s attention.

“Right, well we’re not fuckin’ making any progress sitting around Bruce’s house. We need to be looking harder. A clue, anything.”

“We’ve searched everywhere before, Vance. No van.” Billy swipes his hands through the air. “What makes you think we’d find it now?”

“It’d be like magic if we did,” Griffin says. “After all this time we just… poof, here it is! And then we get Finney back.”

Bruce tilts his head this way and that. “Well, that’d be cool but it’s still unrealistic. I mean, you guys got the missing notice out, so it’s not on just our shoulders anymore.”

Griffin giggles from where he was now splayed on the ground. “Hey, hey guys. I have an idea.”

“What is it, Griff?” Robin asks. Griffin reaches his hand towards the ceiling.

“Gwen said she saw things in her mind, right? And Finney’s her brother. They’re close. Wouldn’t it be cool if he could send images through to her? Maybe he can send more things than just basement.”

“What, like telepathy?” Bruce says.

Griffin nods. “Like telepathy!”

“What if he can’t, huh?” Vance points out. “Besides, never heard of siblings having telepathy like that. That just- It’s stupid, Griffin.”

Griffin huffs. “It might.”

“It won’t.”

“It might!”

“It won’t.”

“It-!”

“Alright you two, don’t argue in my house,” Bruce says, nudging Griffin’s side and pointing his finger at Vance. Vance scoffs, spinning the glass bowl around.

“Whatever. Where’re is Mr. and Mrs. Yamada anyways? Your parents take their favourite daughter Amy out again?”

“Parents at work, Amy is asleep in her room so shut your yap.”

“What will she do, kick me?”

“Only because you can take it Vance. Now, we need another game plan if we want to find him.” Bruce clasps his hands together. “Anyone got any ideas?

Griffin raises his hand.

“That isn’t sibling telepathy?”

Griffin lowers his hand.

“Bouncing off of Griffin’s idea, but what if we just ask her to dream up something else? She saw a basement, didn’t she? With enough time and images we can put something together. Narrow down the house,” Billy says.

Robin sniffs, rubbing at his nose. “Let’s ask Gwen then.”

Gwen of course accepted the plan, though she never thought she’d have to spend so much of it not moving.

She did her best that night, trying to reach a state of sleep that would help her. Anything would do.

That night, the only thing she woke up remembering was the sight of the basement, a phone sitting there on the wall innocently.

It didn’t help very much, but she told the others about it just in case.

Nobody could make sense of any of it.

“You know, I thought reading about kids doing cool things and wanting the same to happen to me would mean I get to do cool things. This isn’t cool.” Gwen complains. “This is just sad and stressful. I am not old enough for grey hairs.”

“Is that how you get grey hairs?”

“That’s what Susie said happened to her uncle. He had a full head of hair and then he became a manager. White hairs within the month.”

Griffin sucks at his teeth. “Man.”

Gwen nods, turning her attention to Bruce and Billy sitting in front of a map. The map was covered in marker. “Any luck?”

Billy shakes his head, crossing his arms. “Nope. We still got nothing. We would need house plans for every house in Denver with a basement.”

“That’s take too long. Besides, it’s vague,” Bruce says. “We’d need something else. Like…” Bruce taps the marker against the map, leaving a red dot on a random road. “An address.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Gwen sighs. “I can’t control what I see though.”

“That’s alright,” Billy says. “Robin’s gone out to find all advertisements for magicians. See if any look familiar.”

“Why didn’t we do this before?” Griffin asks, crawling over to Bruce.

“You know?” Bruce starts, before he shrugs. “I don’t know. Never crossed the mind.”

Griffin blinks, flopping on the ground. “What if… What if we’re too late…?”

Bruce, Gwen, and Billy all shake their heads, Gwen the hardest.

“Finney is going to come home. He has to.”

“Gwen…” Bruce whispers.

Gwen squeezes at her skirt. “Finney is coming home. We just need to work harder.”

“This really is so much work for a bunch of middle schoolers.”

“But we might as well. That’s our Finney.” Bruce taps his chest with a fist. “We’re not leaving a mate behind.”

“Amen.”

“Are you even Christian?”

Griffin shrugs.

Finney rests for a total of three hours before he wakes up to the sound of a chair screeching. He raises his head, his body jerking when he sees the Grabber just sitting there, the light above him illuminating him in such a creepy fashion.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, kid. I’m not here to hurt you.”

Finney does not believe him for a moment.

The Grabber sighs behind his mask, which was smiling. “You didn’t eat your food by the way. I guess you weren’t hungry. No matter.”

Finney says nothing.

“I wonder if they’ll come find you?” The Grabber slowly laughs, leaning his head back to stare at the light. He didn’t seem all that bothered by it.

Though with the mask, Finney can’t really tell in the first place.

“Once I collect the whole set I’ll be good. And you will all be good. Just as long as you don’t run away again.”

He looks at Finney. “I wish mines was as colourful as yours.”

Finney must have made a weird face, as the Grabber laughs.

“Here, I’ll show you.”

The Grabber reaches up, and there’s a clicking noise.

He removes his mask, still smiling underneath it.

Right there on his cheek was a black soulmark.

Finney tenses as the Grabber leans in closer to his face. The Grabber grabs ahold of his hand, turning it over and touching his soulmark.

He reaches up with that same hand to trace over his own, the six holes on his cheek entirely empty.

“It looked so close to mines when I saw it on that little boy. I figured…” The Grabber whispers.

“I must have you all. I deserve it. I’ve always… wanted.”

The Grabber lets go of his wrist, Finney jerking it back.

“Is that so much to ask for?”

The Grabber stands, turning around. “I’m sorry, you must be tired. Go to sleep.”

Finney glares at his retreating back. Waits until he leaves.

He checks the metal door.

Unlocked.

Finney holds his hand there on the handle.

He could try.

His hand begins to turn.

A sharp sting in his wrist stops him, Finney pulling back.

His wrist still itches. Finney turns his hand over, rubbing at where the Grabber had touched him.

Staring at the circles, he clenches his fist.

“Don’t come here, guys.”

Chapter Text

“Robin’s working himself up into a panic.”

Vance scoffs. “You think?”

Bruce nods, looking at Robin as he scours over the map once again, Billy dutifully beside him. “Granted, I’m worried too, but Robin’s been trying.”

“That’s his best friend, why wouldn’t he be trying? Finney would do it for him, so why would it be different?” Vance bites off the head of the eggroll he was clutching. He kept speaking with it in his mouth. “But there’s only so much sitting here can do.”

Bruce nods. “We’ve exhausted our options what else is there?”

Vance swallows, holding the eggroll between his teeth. “Burn the town down?”

“Vance.”

“What? Two birds one stone. Smoke out the magician.”

“Vance,” Bruce repeats.

“Alright no excessive violence. Besides, I don’t need to be going to juvy again.”

Bruce huffs, taking an eggroll off of the plate and approaching Robin. “Here, you gotta eat more.”

“Thank you Bruce.” Robin takes the eggroll, shoving half of it in his mouth. He looked tired, even more tired than any middle schooler had any right to be before hitting high school.

“Any luck?” Bruce asks instead. It would be pointless to ask Robin to take a break. Maybe a snack break, but Robin was pretty adamant on spending his time doing something useful.

Billy answers for Robin, circling his finger along a neighbourhood, which was marred with pen and marker marks. “We’re gonna try to look here. I don’t know if we actually checked it or thought we did.”

“Think that’s where he is?”

Billy looks between Robin and Bruce. He nods. “I want to hope.”

–

Finney forces himself through drinking a bit of the flat soda for the energy. Though, what kind of energy disgusting soda would bring him Finney has yet to witness.

Still, the Grabber has left him be for long stretches of time, as if he was positive that he’d still be down there when he went back down. He hasn’t touched him yet, thank goodness. Finney would have died right then and there without a second thought. Just put him out of his misery before he would need a therapist to scrape it out of him.

He’s taken stock of what he was given. There was the mattress, the bathroom, some random items that ultimately weren’t weapons unless Finney was feeling particular.

He stares at the wall, the bottom scratched out and cracked. He’s been slowly whittling away at it, revealing the wires tucked within the concrete. Miserable housework, he says, though what would he know.

It was still useful for him, even if it made his fingers sore from digging. He checks the door to make sure he wasn’t at risk of being caught doing something before shuffling over to the wall, crouching and moving aside a particularly large chunk. There was wires running through, Finney grabbing the bottle cap he took from the soda and started sawing away. He grips the cap with his shirt in between his skin and the metal. If the wires were active, then Finney was sure he’d have other problems than the kidnapping.

If he were a baby, he was sure he’d end up on some safety PSA out there. This was quite literally the dumbest thing he could be doing, survival or not. The wire cuts easy, and miraculously Finney doesn’t get shocked.

Finney yanks at the wire until he peels out a decent amount. He looks up at the window, then at the wire. He cuts off the other end, then shoves the pieces of wall back and coils the thankfully dead wire around his hand.

That, he shoves under the mattress.

The Grabber walks in a mere five minutes later, Finney sitting innocently on the mattress.

He didn’t see him drag in a chair.

Finney recoils when the Grabber’s hands drift downwards.

“What are you-”

“Shh. Enough talk. I want to play. Kids like playing, don’t they?”

Finney moves backwards across the mattress. Clenches his hands to his sides. The Grabber stills, hand hovering over his belt. Finney doesn’t want to play.

He lashes out when the Grabber’s hands come in contact with his shoulders. He screams, and the Grabber yells in his face.

“Don’t be so loud, such a naughty boy…” The Grabber whispers harshly, and his heart was pounding.

Finney kicks, the Grabber recoiling. Finney wastes no time getting up and running. His feet pound up the stairs, and he grabs the door handle, yanking.

It’s locked. It was fucking locked .

Grabber laughs from below him. “Running away? Such a naughty, naughty boy …”

Finney turns around, keeping his back to the door.

There was no escape now.

–

Gwen knocks furiously on Robin’s front door. The door opens, Robin’s eyes going from confused to surprised.

“Gwen? What are you doing here?”

“There- I was standing on this street corner, in my dream- And the sign was muddled but-” Gwen heaves. She shouldn’t have ran all the way here, to be honest, but her dad was home and it would be bad if he overheard her talking about her visions over the phone. Telling Robin upfront was easier, safer.

Robin ushers her in, Gwen sitting on his couch as Robin’s mama emerges from the kitchen.

“Oh, te ves cansada niña. Te traeré un poco de agua,” She says before turning around. She emerges with a glass of water that she hands Gwen. Gwen thanks her with a relieved nod, taking a few gulps. Ms. Arellano puts her hand on her forehead, Gwen allowing the misconstrued guess of sickness. She was simply sweaty than actually sick. Ms. Arellano seems to have come to the same conclusion as she takes her hand back.

“¿Necesitas algo más?”

Gwen looks to Robin, who turns to his mama. “¡No mamá, gracias!”

“Llámame si lo haces, niña.”

Robin turns to Gwen. “She says call her if you need anything.”

Gwen gives her a nod of understanding, Ms. Arellano walking back to the kitchen followed by the sound of something being grinded.

“Mama’s making salsa,” Robin explains. He sits down next to Gwen, Gwen setting the glass down between her knees. “So the street corner.”

“It was some street corner in some neighbourhood.”

“So like everywhere.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Gwen. It’s something. Anything else? Anything… special that could lead us somewhere?”

Gwen thinks hard. “I saw the van. It passed by me.” Gwen stands up, pointing to the right. “I was facing forward and it passed me on the right. But when I turned around…” She narrates her actions, staring at the wall. “There was a police car instead.”

“Did you know the police came by?”

“Did they?”

Robin nods. “Came and asked me questions. But I didn’t know what to tell them other than I hadn’t seen Finney for days.” Robin takes a single breath. “The others saw him last. What if… If I didn’t-”

“Don’t, Robin. None of us could have known the exact time. We were just lucky every other time.”

“Nobody should have left him alone.”

“And we won’t leave him behind either.” Gwen smiles. “Would you want Finney to know you’re like this? You’re acting an awful lot like him right now.”

Robin cracks a smile. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“I always am.”

Robin’s smile grows just a little bit bigger.

–

Griffin hops over the cracks on the pavement.

It might have been stupid, not telling the others what he was doing.

Griffin, playing detective. Who knew. He did. Griffin wasn’t really playing real detectives though, he was just doing what he liked doing, just with a purpose.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be looking for.

A van, but it was easy to put such a recognisable thing away in a garage. That isn’t what Griffin was looking for.

He was trying to see if anything looked off. Felt off.

Griffin wasn’t sure what the threshold of off felt like. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to be helpful. He wasn’t the town paperboy that knew every street like the back of his hand, or particularly strong or smart, but.

He had eyes. Griffin could run.

He ran away once. There was no reason he couldn’t do it again if it came down to it.

Maybe he’d even see Finney again. That would be nice. Two heads were better than one. Griffin swings the corner, looking at the rows of standard houses that looked just like every other standard house, unique in their own way but all a part of one. There was a few people outside, minding their own business.

Griffin walks, acting like he was doing nothing except walking. Nobody bats a second eye to him, a few elderly ones even waving at him. Griffin waves back, continuing on his way.

There was nothing off.

He turns the corner and repeats down the next neighbourhood.

He trips over nothing when he hits the fifth – or was it fifteenth – street. Griffin stumbling and righting himself before he chipped a tooth on the concrete.

Griffin looks around to make sure nobody saw him. Looks down to see what he tripped on.

Air. How novel.

Griffin clears his throat, then continues onwards.

The street looked normal. There was nothing suspicious about it.

Still, he doesn’t trip again for the rest of the day.

–

Finney wakes up on the mattress.

His head hurts. His body hurts.

His memories catch up to him once his head stopped feeling like it was swirling, Finney slowly sitting up.

He had fallen down the steps. Thrown, actually. The Grabber had taken him and pulled him back down, saying something about how good boys stay in their room.

Finney doesn’t remember much after that. He might have fallen unconscious at some point for a second, or maybe his brain was pitying him by keeping it out of his memories at all.

Better that way he figures. He checks his body.

He’s still clothed. Thank goodness. Finney isn’t sure that’ll last long if he stays. He has a bad feeling. Terrible.

Finney takes note of his body. Flexes his toes, fingers, knees. All the joints and checks how painful it was to even move it. The worse he had was his back, but Finney could still move his body so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Finney wishes he could check for a concussion, but there was nothing he could use to see his own eyes.

There was nothing set out for him. It was dark out as well, so Finney couldn’t even see much.

He looks at the door.

Slowly, he pulls out the wire and goes to the window. He grabs one end and stares, aiming his shot before throwing.

The wire drapes over after two throws, Finney feeding it until he had both ends again. Finney doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he’s up there, the opening was small and covered in glass.

He figures escaping could mind a few cuts.

Finney holds on tight and begins to climb.

It looks so close.

Finney tugs himself higher, higher-

Red hot pain flares up his back as he falls back down, the wire snapped in two.

Finney groans, laying there for a second before sitting up and looking at the wire.

“Should have twisted.” He says to himself.

Finney holds out one of the broken pieces. It was too short now.

He tosses the wires away. He needs a new plan. Fast.

Finney looks down. Then back up.

He laughs to himself. This was feeling too much like a prison break movie.

Chapter Text

It’s felt like months.

It really wasn’t, but to him it did.

Robin fiddles with a bottle cap to a soda, flicking it up and down the pad of his finger, only stopped by the tip of this thumb.

He’s worried, still. There was no updates from the police, nothing that they were willing to tell a bunch of middle schoolers. None of them could find anything either, even when they walked the streets once again.

Billy told them to give it a rest. A break. It was no use worrying themselves into a ditch if it solved nothing. They needed to focus on other things. Like the sudden onslaught of quizzes at school.

Griffin didn’t seem very happy about this, but there was nothing except to wait for more clues. The only thing they had hinged was Gwen.

Robin feels almost bad putting this on Gwen to solve, but she was their best bet.

Gwen didn’t mind. She was worried just as sick as the rest of them, and determined to find her brother. If she wanted it, she’d have it. Robin checks up on her often, walks with her to school.

It was nice.

The other kids had looked at them with pity, the way they have all been showing up almost ragged as the days pass. One of Finney’s bullies tried to mention it, but Robin hasn’t stepped down from defending his friend. He always would, even if he wasn’t around to see it.

Now, he was just waiting.

He hopes that Finney was still okay, wherever that wicked Grabber had taken him.

The hole was taking too long.

Finney covers it up with a rug that was left down here, as he has the past few days. The Grabber never walks down that part since there was nothing there to really do except head towards the bathroom.

So Finney felt it was safe enough to dig without being caught.

But he didn’t exactly have enough tools. He’s been flushing the dirt, carving through the ground with the toilet lid and a bottle cap. The ground was just as bad as the walls.

Horrible house work, truly madly deeply.

Still, he toils away in hopes that it’ll make some sort of difference. Finney’s already gotten rid of the dirt, so there was no chance he was ever filling it up again. All he could do was pretend he didn’t do anything. Blame it on bad upkeep.

Who was he kidding.

Regardless, he’s making progress, seeing what works and what doesn’t. Escaping though the front seemed too risky, the rope snapped, and now his failed prison break hole.

He’s formulating a plan though. Finney feels like he’s getting closer to his ultimate goal.

It was stressful being on high alert all the time though. The Grabber was relentless, showing up at random intervals that Finney couldn’t accurately track a schedule for, save for the long stretches of nothing and the ever present threat that he’s not safe for long.

He hasn’t been sleeping as well as he’d like, but what could he really accomplish.

Finney settles on the lumpy mattress, staring at the door that looms ahead of him. He’s occasionally stood in front of it, tested the handle slowly each and every time. Always in the night, when the man was likely asleep.

Locked. Always. Locked.

At some point it’ll be unlocked again, and…

Finney isn’t sure what he’ll do then. He still faintly remembers the pain, wonders if it meant something. So he only tries out of a weird, hopeless expectation he knows will go nowhere.

He only checks as a morbid curiosity. As a teaser despite something preventing him from passing that threshold to another step closer to freedom.

He wonders how the others are faring. Worried, he’s certain of. But were they still looking? Did they feel a weird aching like he has?

Perhaps. He hopes they are.

Numbers sear into the back of his eyelids.

He doesn’t dream often. Was never the type to dream every night. If he did, it wasn’t something like this. No, his dreams were less… abstract, as this one was. Dreams that he doesn’t remember other than the lingering feelings, if any.

But he dreamt of a house with numbers clear as day. Brown, maybe red brick. 7741.

He doesn’t know why he remembers it so clearly.

So he does what did make sense to him.

“Vance? What are you doing here?” Gwen asks when she opens the door to the blond. Vance clicks his tongue, hands clutched at his side.

“Had a dream,” He says. Gwen raises an eyebrow, an amused smile pulling at her lips.

“I think that’s my line.” She looks behind her before she looks back at him, stepping outside and shutting the door behind her. “But go on.”

“It’s this house. I don’t know why the fuck it keeps appearing, but there’s a house. 7741,” Vance says, looking straight down at Gwen. “That make any fucking sense?”

Gwen shakes her head, but she didn’t look like she was dismissing him either. “Did you tell this to anyone else?”

Vance scoffs, “As if. Yeah, officer, I think I know the exact place my stupid soulmate is. How? Oh a dream I keep having over and over again.” He rolls his eyes, arms folded over his chest. “Like that’ll go over well.”

There is an understanding in Gwen’s eyes, Vance remaining tense. Really, why is he still here? Confirmation he isn’t going crazy? He could go, there wasn’t anything stopping him.

No, it was a team effort now. That’s what’s stopping him.

“Did you tell the others?”

“Was gonna. Fuck, don’t rush me, bitch.”

“Don’t call me that,” Gwen says, glaring him down.

Vance says nothing more. Gwen’s expression softens, eyebrows drawing together.

“Do you think he’ll be there?”

“Only way to find out. We go in, and we get Finney back. Fuck the police, they’re taking too long. We’re taking this into our own hands.”

Gwen snickers at that, the corner of Vance’s lip curling to a self-pleased smirk.

Finney’s tearing this basement apart for an escape.

He’s gone to hitting walls now. He was getting antsy now, angry.

Tired of this.

He hates the amusement in the Grabber’s voice every time that man comes down, coming much too close for comfort. The way he tries to soothe something that would never be tamped down as long as he was here.

He can still feel the tingling of that man’s hand on his arm. The ache of his cheek. Finney had kicked him when the man came far too close for comfort, right where it hurt most.

Finney got hit back in return. A fake, soft apology given to him as the hand squeezed his shoulder, a touch too rough.

“I didn’t mean to. You just, made me angry,” The Grabber had said to him.

Finney didn’t forgive him. Never will.

Finney picks at the crumbled wall in front of him.

His finger hits metal, and he recoils. Stares at it for a while before he picks up the lid of the toilet and begins again, chipping at the wall until he’s come face to face with a panel.

Finney sets the lid down and goes to check the door.

Shut tight.

He walks up the steps and tests the door.

Locked.

Finney returns to the wall, staring at it for a few moments. What could be behind it?

It could be anything. It could be his ticket to freedom, or a ticket straight to death.

Finney doesn’t pause long enough to think about it. He was willing to try, if nothing else. He runs a finger along the screws before he goes to grab the bottle cap to try to loosen them.

It takes him a while, Finney pausing just to make sure he was alone.

Eventually the panel comes away, and he’s hit with cold air.

A freezer? Finney sets the panel down and peers inside.

Frozen meat. A door just ahead.

Finney body feels tingly with excitement, and he crawls in, pushing. It doesn’t budge, even when he continues pressing his weight on it.

His body feels cold, and not just from the fridge.

Finney wasn’t staying in here long, backing up and into the relative warmth of the basement. Puts the panel back and loosely screws it back.

That was a bust.

Finney returns to the mattress, sitting down with a barely restrained shout.

He looks up at the window, light filtering down on him.

Finney wasn’t giving up. He wasn’t.

He hears the telltale sound of the door being messed with, Finney glancing over as it swings open, the Grabber in all his horrible glory standing at the top.

Finney braces himself, staring hard.

“Are you sure this is right?”

“No harm in trying,” Billy says, circling the house that supposedly had Finney trapped inside.

Griffin lays on the couch prone, his arms and head dangling off the edge as he watches Billy scribble on the map.

“What’s the game plan?” Bruce was leaning on the wall next to Vance, tossing a baseball between his hands. “We need a game plan.”

“Rush him. Take him out and grab Finney,” Vance answers immediately, but Bruce shakes his head.

“No, Vance, that’s too hasty. We were lucky one time, but this is home base. Variables we don’t know.”

Griffin laughs. “You’re sounding like some military man. Variables, home base… Next you’ll say words like soldier and man down.”

“I still think we should just go in and surprise the bastard,” Vance mutters.

Billy shakes his head. “No. We have to be careful, we’re not all as strong as you and Robin.”

“So why aren’t we calling police to take care of this again?”

“Because why would they believe our lack of evidence,” Vance answers Griffin. “So we’re taking it to our own hands first.”

Bruce catches the baseball in his left hand. “We could still call just in case. Tell them we have an idea of where he’s being held. Vance, I know you want revenge, frankly I do too, but we’re not even in high school. Heroes are older people, not a bunch of preteens.”

Billy hums in agreement. “We’ll need it. They have to arrest that sick son of a gun. But we’re finding him first, no matter what. What do you think, Robin?”

Robin looks up from where he was sitting, a determined glint in his eyes.

“We’re getting Finn back, no matter what.”

Finney lays on the mattress, scratching at his skin, the feeling of that man all over his skin. He hates it. He hates it so much.

His eyes flick to the phone on the wall, and his hand clenches.

Finney needs to take it into his own hands. Enough was enough.

The only escape left is to get rid of the problem all together.

Chapter Text

Well this isn't good.

One moment, he was timing himself on how fast he could climb up the dome. The next, his foot slips and he was tumbling down.

By pure luck, his let catches in the bars and now he's hanging upside down. Which, not great, but it's one less having to explain to his mom why he broke his arm. Or leg. Or a tooth. Or-

He's just glad he didn't drop all the way down.

However, and here's the kicker: Griffin Stagg was all alone on the playground today. Total mystery how that's happened, usually there was someone around.

So now he has a decision to make. Option one, he risks the broken whatever by freeing himself. Option two, he manages to maneuver himself into not eating dirt. There's a right answer, and a faster answer. There's the secret answer that would be someone finally spotting a child dangling from the dome, but who knows how long that could come true.

Regardless, he needs to make the decision now. He is stuck, his legs are aching, and his head is pounding. Too bad he can't just yell for help. Too bad his friends aren't around. Maybe he should've dragged them here to watch him climb up and then let Vance laugh at him when he got himself stuck in this position. At least then he'd not be hanging from the bars for too long.

Griffin huffs, then grabs onto the bars on either side of him. No matter how much he wished they were here, they weren't, and he needed to get unstuck before gravity decided he was taking too long. He repositions his grip, the idea in his head. Let's just hope he didn't miss.

"One... two..." He counts out loud, before yanking his foot free, his shoe flying off. He tips forward, grasping onto the bars tighter as he swings around. The metal bars crash into his knees and nearly catch his mouth, Griffin scrambling until his feet were safely on the bars. He lets out a sigh, leaning his head on the dome.

A slow clapping to his left catches his attention, Griffin turning his head to Vance standing there.

"And here I thought I'd watch you eat shit on the ground," Vance says, Griffin looking back with confusion and maybe a little offended.

"Were you standing there this whole time??"

"Just got here."

... Okay that makes him feel a little better. Griffin climbs down until he was safely on the ground, looking down when he felt the different pressure on his left.

"It's by the swings." Vance jerks his head towards the area, hands in his pockets.

"Oh." Griffin turns and goes to grab his shoe. It flew pretty far, Griffin righting it and sliding his foot back in. When he turns back around Vance was still standing there, so he points to the dome.

"Race you to the top."

Vance glances at the dome, then back at Griffin, rolling his shoulders.

"Don't fall again. I'm not helping you if you do."

Griffin figured, already rushing back as Vance grabs the bars.

Chapter Text

They struck the moment Billy returned from his route in the morning.

“Today’s the day, motherfucker,” Vance says as soon as Billy comes to view.

Everyone was waiting at the park, bikes in hand. Even Gwen was here, determination under a fuschia helmet. The plan was simple. Step one, roll up to the house. Step two, find the Grabber and get him immobile. Step three, find Finney. Step four, call the actual authorities and get this man arrested for good.

A simple plan, sure, but it was good enough for them.

All they needed to worry about was how they were getting into the house in the first place without endangering themselves. For all they knew, the Grabber could get a hand over them and trap them all inside, and then they’d all be doomed. Not without a fight, of course, but there might be things they don’t account for, aren’t prepared for. There was even the potential they get it all wrong, and then what happens? They could get in trouble, maybe even grounded. None of them wanted that happening. 

So they needed to be careful.

They all rode to the neighbourhood where 7741 was. Compared to everything else, it was quite normal. A creepy ass tree out front, but other than that it was just a house amongst the slew of other houses. If they didn’t know any better, they would have passed by this house and think nothing more of it. They’d never think that there was a dangerous man lurking within. The van wasn’t even here.

They wouldn’t have known.

“Okay, how are we getting in?” Gwen asks, Robin taking in the house.

“Don’t know,” He answers.

“Let’s break a window,” Vance says, already grabbing a rock. Bruce slaps his hand, Vance glaring at him lightly.

“Let’s not. Do you want to catch his attention?” Bruce hisses. Vance rolls his eyes, but holds his hands up.

“We can find another way. There has to be another way,” Billy says, looking around before he notices Griffin racing off. “Griffin-! Griffin where are you going?!”

Griffin doesn’t answer, disappearing around the corner. Vance curses, already on his heels. The rest look between each other before abandoning their bikes and chasing after.

The Grabber hasn’t come down today. A blessing. Finney has been practicing when he finally was stupid enough to show up.

The trap was set. A rug over the hole, shattered pieces of the toilet lid and concrete dropped at the bottom, the broken wire repurposed. The bait? Him, of course. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’d never leave him alone, not really. Not ever.

 In his hand, the phone he tore off of the wall. It was too light when he ripped it away. It needed to be heavier. So he stuffed it with dirt, dunked it in the toilet water to make sure it was compact. If that failed, he had chunks of concrete around the corner. Heavier, but it didn’t matter. No matter what, he was stopping the Grabber.

So he waited. He waited, and waited. That door will swing open soon, and he will not go down without fighting back. He’s been fighting this whole time, there was no way he was-

The door creaks open. It’s showtime.

The Grabber walks down the stairs, once slow step at a time. He’s smiling.

“Sitting so pretty, are we? I can’t wait, we had such a fun time last time… Maybe we’ll try something new today.”

Finney feels nausea settle in his stomach. He didn’t want this man anywhere near anyone. Not ever. So he plants his feet, raising his fists.

The Grabber tilts his head at him, cruel amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh? What’s this now.” He steps closer, his shoe echoing in the silent basement. “Are you trying to fight me? You know that’s not nice. You’re all naughty, every single one of you.” He reaches out. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you not to disrespect me.”

Finney doesn’t hesitate. He swings. A feint. The Grabber yanks his arm back, before throwing himself forth, and Finney moves. 

One fast step back. The Grabber catches empty air.

One step forward. Glares him in the eyes as the Grabber pulls back.

Step back. The Grabber tries again.

Swing.

It cracks the man across the face, the mask breaking from the sheer force. The Grabber yells, and Finney repeats himself.

One step back.

Step forward.

Step back.

He swings again, catching the Grabber by the back of the head. A hand tries to grab his arm, but Finney pulls away, running to the hall, jumping over the rug that blended too perfect against the floor. He slides to the ground, hand grabbing some wire.

The Grabber rounds the corner, seething. “You- You brat. You think you’re so tough. Come. Here.” He says, and he rushes at Finney.

Finney yells, and he yanks the wire, the tripwire catching the Grabber by surprise. He stumbles, right into the rug that sinks like it was held only by the assumption a floor was beneath it, a sickening crunch causing the man to scream murder.

And screaming murder he did. Finney doesn’t listen, he doesn’t care. He wants to leave. He wants his friends to not have to look over their shoulder for a black van.

His wrist itches. He yells, and swings.

“It’s empty.”

The kids look around the house, which had not evidence anyone has been in here in ages. Dust covered every surface, the lights not fed electricity. The back door was broken, no thanks to a bunch of kids bulldozing themselves through. No one lived here.

Vance punches a wall, Gwen and Bruce returning from searching everything.

“Are you sure it was this house?” Gwen asks. Vance snaps his head to glare at her.

“Why the hell would I lie? I don’t dream like you do, but I saw this place clear as fucking day. So it has to be something-”

They hear sirens, Billy peering out of the window that faced the street. “The police are here. We need to go.”

 They escape out the back door as the sound of the police barging through the front.

Slipping past the cops, they reunite with their bikes that nobody seemed to have noticed. Gwen is a little concerned about their perceptiveness. No matter, they needed to figure things out now .

But if the dream brought them here, then it had to be something important, right? It had to be.

Surely, they were just missing something.

Gwen shuts her eyes, and she tries to pull something. Anything.

Her hands find each other, and she pleads for a clue.

The sirens were too noisy. She couldn’t concentrate.

She squeezes her hands harder, and then a hand lands on her shoulder.

Gwen looks up, and follows Robin’s gaze.

“Oh, motherfucker.”

Right there, across the street, was a house, standard as can be.

In the garage was a black van and a helium tank.

While the police searched a house that had nothing inside, the kids snuck across the yard and straight into the garage. They slip inside, and immediately they hear screaming.

Gwen and Robin don’t hesitate. They’re running towards the noise, finding the cracked open door to the basement and down the stairs.

“Finney!” Gwen screams, and they round the corner.

The sight before them makes Gwen’s stomach drop. Her brother, caught in the arms of this madman stuck halfway through the floor. He’s fighting, she knows, the grit of his teeth and the limbs flailing but not in fear. No, Finney was not scared.

Her brother is not afraid.

Robin yells something in Spanish, and he’s already charging. “Pull free! Pull free, Finney!”

Finney’s eyes catch his best friend’s, and the small distraction is enough for the Grabber to get the upper hand, pulling Finney into a headlock.

Robin doesn’t stand there to watch the fight. No, that wasn’t him. Anger envelops his limbs, and he charges. He jumps the Grabber, landing on his back and wrenching his head back, feet propped up on the man’s back. The Grabber lets go of Finney who pulls away, hands now free to try to wrench Robin off.

Finney can only stare at his own sister standing on the other side and Robin near about to gouge a man’s eyes out for a second before he thrusts himself back into the fray.

The others come barreling down the stairs not a second later, Vance wielding an axe. The Grabber manages to knock Robin against the edge of the hole and dislodge him, Gwen quickly grabbing him and yanking Robin out before he slid into the sharp pieces below. The force was enough to yank the Grabber’s mask off completely, and he freaks, covering his face with his hands.

It doesn’t stop the onslaught. As soon as Robin was out of danger, the Grabber tries to swerve around to grab at the kids behind him, but Vance was faster, letting out a yell as he swings the axe, lodging the blade into the man’s shoulder. Blood gushes out, and it’s enough to startle everyone, Billy turning around and covering Griffin’s eyes. Gwen goes pale, covering her mouth.

“Finney! Get over here!” Bruce says, extending a hand. Finney looks between the Grabber and Bruce, then reaches out.

“Oh… no you don’t-!” The Grabber wheezes out, trying to get ahold of Finney again.

Dropping the phone on the Grabber’s head, he grabs the end of the axe and pushes against it as momentum, forcing the Grabber off balance.

Finney sails over the man as the Grabber falls backwards, cracking his skull into the wall as his legs are sliced even further. Bruce holds Finney tight, Finney clutching the phone in his hand just as tightly.

“We got you… We got you Finney.”

Blood gurgles up the Grabber’s throat and falls across the black mark on his cheek, the man weakly reaching out to the six boys.

Bruce doesn’t let Finney look again, pulling him away first. Gwen follows after, not wanting her brother out of her sight at the moment, not after what she witnessed. The others stay put, glaring.

“Welcome to the end of your pathetic little life,” Billy whispers, swallowing the acid that threatened to climb up his throat as he takes Griffin away from the scene.

Robin and Vance stay put, anger still rushing through their veins. Robin cracks first, he needs to reunite with Finney again, away from this. He leaves a parting word, turning away as he speaks. “Die alone, you hijo de puta.”

 Vance doesn’t say anything. He spits into the hole and sneers, following after the rest as the last of the Grabber is left to rot.

They all walk out of the house as more police are littering the streets, an ambulance pulling up, facing the wrong way. Bruce doesn’t let go of Finney until the end when he peels away, his ears pounding in his ears. They’re all covered in blood, and numb.

Gwen tucks herself close to her brother as they’re ushered away.

No injuries. They were lucky. They all sat side by side, fussed over by parents after a bout of questioning and a shower each. There was no explaining to Ms. Arellano or Ms. Stagg or Bruce’s parents what the hell they were all doing in the house, how they even knew, or why they came out so bloody.

The simple explanation of the news that aired after was enough to explain part of it.

Finney and Gwen’s dad was equally as terrified, and Finney doesn’t know if he’d ever get this type of hug again. He promised he’d be better, at least.

Finney will see how long he means it. He wants him to mean it, a little.

The doctors cleared him after an afternoon of sitting in a hospital bed with an IV in to replenish the nutrients he lost, the only thing he needed. He was lucky. So, so lucky.

At first, they all went to their own homes, to recuperate. They succeeded. Finney was safe, and so was Denver. No more van roaming, no more having to watch the streets like hawks.

Despite it all, it felt wrong. Being alone now? Without the others in view, it felt like something was missing, hammers making nests in their chests and in their skulls.

It affected them more than they thought. There was no going back. Even when the reporters assured the town they were free, they still needed-

The phone rings. One for every boy.

Everyone was at his house now, crammed in his bedroom. Finney taking in the feeling of his bed after what felt like months, Robin leaning against his dresser, Bruce sitting at his desk, Griffin and Billy sitting on the floor, and Vance leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Bottles of sodas and chips scattered around them, Finney’s favourite leaning against his side.

He’s not sure if he’ll feel completely normal again. If anyone else in this room will, after this.

Finney rolls his arm, staring at the mark on his wrist. He clenches his fist.

They’ll all make it through, though. They won’t desert each other, not once. That’s what this mark means.

He looks up, and he gives them a smile. Only a call away.

Only a call, and they’ll come running.