Chapter Text
Ian paced in the hallway, glancing at the front door every few seconds. He knew he probably looked crazy, but he couldn’t help it. Any moment, Barley would come through the door.
It was finally winter break, and Barley was coming home. It had been five months since he’d left for college. It was the longest Ian had ever been away from his older brother. Barley video-called the family every night, but it wasn’t the same as actually spending time with him. Ian wanted to take a drive with him, and talk with him in person about college and girls (as embarrassing as that conversation would be) and growing up and life.
Outside, a car door slammed. Ian pricked up his ears. But it was a false alarm. Just a neighbor across the street.
“Ian?” It was Laurel. “Honey, I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Dinner’s almost ready. Come sit down. Pacing around out here won’t make him get here any faster.”
Ian knew she was right. But pacing out here felt better than hanging around Laurel and Colt just trying not to look anxious. His body was buzzing with restless energy, and he really didn’t know what to do with himself.
Just then, they heard a familiar sound: a rattling, clanking engine. Ian’s heart leapt. He knew that sound. Guinevere II.
He ran to the door to unlock it. A split second before he reached it, the door swung open. The next second, he was being swept up and swung around in big, wild circles.
“Ian!” Barley cried. “I missed you so much! You have no idea!” He squeezed Ian tighter, squeezing all the air out of his lungs.
“Missed you, too,” Ian managed to choke out.
“All right, let him go before you crush him,” Laurel said, laughing.
“Mom!” Barley released Ian and hugged Laurel. She covered his cheeks in enthusiastic kisses, ignoring his half-hearted attempts to brush her off.
Colt walked in. “Barley!”
Barley grinned at him. “Hey, Colt.”
“Keeping yourself out of trouble?” Colt asked, only half-jokingly.
Before Barley could reply, there was the sound of claws scraping on the wood floor, and Blazey barrelled into the room. With an excited yelp, she leapt onto Barley, licking his face.
Barley laughed and petted her. “Blazey! I missed you, too!”
“Dinner should be ready now,” Laurel said. “I made your favorite: meatloaf.”
“Thanks, Mom. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in ages,” Barley said. “I’ve been living on Burger Shire and Fry Fortress.”
They sat down for dinner. Ian looked around and felt true contentment. He’d missed this, sitting down together for a meal as a family. These days, he just took his dinner to his room to eat while he did his homework or ate over at one of his friend’s houses, leaving Colt and Laurel to keep each other company. He supposed that was a normal part of growing up, but he hadn’t realized how distant he’d become from his family after Barley left.
“So, how’s college?” Laurel asked Barley. “I know you’ve already told us, but tell us again.”
“Classes are fine,” Barley said with a shrug. “And I joined a Quests of Yore club. That’s been really fun.” His eyes lit up as he remembered something. “Oh! And I also joined this activist group on campus. There’s this old well by the administration building that’s been there since the days of old, and the school wanted to knock it down and put a statue of the dean there instead. So we superglued ourselves to the well so they couldn’t destroy it.”
“Great,” Colt sighed as he stabbed a piece of meatloaf with his fork. “You’ve got a group now.”
Barley ignored this and continued enthusiastically. “And we were yelling up a storm, with megaphones and everything. And then the cops showed up and booked us for ‘disturbing the peace’ or whatever—”
Colt inhaled sharply and looked up. “You got arrested?”
Ian winced at Colt’s tone, even though the question wasn’t aimed at him. He pretended to be fascinated by some peas on his plate, pushing them around with his fork and watching them roll around.
“Not arrested,” Barley said hastily. “Just detained overnight.”
“Barley!” Laurel admonished.
Barley swallowed and looked at her guiltily. “What? I still made it to class on time the next day. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is,” Colt insisted. “Barley, this isn’t New Mushroomton. I won’t be there to just let you off with a slap on the wrist. And you could get expelled for shenanigans like that.”
Barley rolled his eyes. “I know.”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man,” Colt snapped.
“And don’t talk to me like you’re my dad,” Barley muttered.
“Barley!” Ian burst out, shocked. It wasn’t like Barley to say something like that. Even at the beginning of Colt and Laurel’s relationship, when the boys were completely detached from Colt and only knew him as Officer Bronco, they never said things like that to him.
Barley shut his mouth and looked down at his plate, a look of shame coming over his face. Ian felt a twinge of shame himself. This was the first word he’d spoken at the table tonight, and he was using it to scold his brother who had come all this way to see them.
For a moment, a tense silence hung in the air. Then Colt turned to his wife. “See, Laurel, I knew we should have left him in jail last time.”
“What?” Barley exclaimed.
“Colt!” Laurel cried. “He doesn’t mean that, Barley.”
“No, Laurel, I do,” Colt said. “He needs to learn there are real consequences to his actions, dang nabbit. And he won’t ever learn that if you bail him out every time he does something stupid.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask you guys to do that,” Barley said. “I’ve always been fully prepared to accept the consequences of everything I do. Give me that at least, Bronco.”
“Fine, you’re willing to rot in a jail cell over your philosophies. Great. But did you ever think there might be consequences for other people?” Colt said. “Like your mother. How do you think your actions affect her? And Ian?” He pointed at Ian, who shrank back in his chair. Please don’t involve me in this.
“Do you think getting yourself in jail is a good example for him? Do you, Barley?”
Barley opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“No? That never occurred to you? Well, maybe it would have if you ever thought of anyone other than yourself.”
Barley looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.
Laurel grabbed Colt’s arm. “Colt, that is enough!”
Colt stopped and seemed to realize the impact of what he’d said. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away, staring off into the kitchen.
Barley pushed his chair back and stood up. “Well, this has been great. Thanks for dinner, Mom. I’m going to bed.”
“Barley…” Laurel said, but Barley had already left. A door slammed.
Colt glanced at Laurel sheepishly. She stared blankly ahead, her mouth a tight line.
Ian stared down at his plate, feeling absolutely sick at how quickly things had turned. And his very existence had just made it worse. He knew that was the main reason Colt’s words had upset Barley so much, because the last thing he wanted was to harm Ian in any way.
And Colt knew that. Ian had seen it in his eyes as he’d mentioned Ian, a small flicker of triumph as he realized he had the perfect weapon to win the argument. He felt a stab of annoyance that Colt had purposely used him to get at Barley.
Plus, Barley had spent so much of his life taking care of Ian, so how could Colt possibly call him selfish? Ian thought he knew Barley better than that by now.
Ian put down his fork. “I should get started on my homework.” He took his and Barley’s plates to the sink, then left the dining room.
He walked down the hallway, slowing down when he got to Barley’s room. The door was closed, and loud music was blasting from inside. Ian considered knocking, his fist hovering just above the door. Then he decided against it. Barley probably needed some time to calm down before talking to anyone.
Ian went to his room and sat down on his bed. His staff was leaning against the wall. He picked it up. If only he could cast a spell to fix everything.
Laurel walked in. “Hey, sweetie. Sorry about all of that. I know that wasn’t how any of us wanted dinner to go.”
“Yeah,” Ian said lamely, still staring at the staff.
Laurel looked around his room for something else to talk about. “Oh, you kept one of your brother’s figurines. That’s nice.”
“What? No, I didn…” Ian stopped when he saw what she was holding. A small figurine of an elf, wearing a green tunic and holding a large blue sword.
Where had that come from? Ian tried to recall if he’d bought it as a present for Barley and just forgotten about it. Then panic set in as he realized it looked just like the magic figurine that had thrust him and Barley into another world and onto a dangerous quest, just before Barley left for college.
Wisps of green magic began to swirl around the room. Ian’s stomach turned. Oh, no. No, no, no. Not again…
“Mom, don’t—”
A flash of green light blocked out everything.
~~~~~~~~~~
Barley lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Heavy metal blared all around him, but he wasn’t hearing any of it. He was lost in his thoughts.
He felt bad about what he’d said to Colt. He didn’t know why he’d said that.
Actually, he did know why. His activist group had jumped down his throat when they’d learned his mother was married to a cop, and he found himself constantly insisting Colt was just his stepdad. And they’d never be close. And Colt would never be able to tell him what to do.
Their relationship had gotten much better since Colt had married Laurel. But his peers’ judgments had made him feel ashamed and defensive, and now he’d just destroyed any progress he and Colt had made with each other.
He should apologize. But he really didn’t feel like it after what Colt had said to him.
But then again, maybe Colt was right. He knew his mother didn’t like it when he protested and got himself in trouble. Her life would be a lot easier if she didn’t have to worry about him getting himself expelled or thrown in jail.
And Ian? Do you think getting yourself in jail is a good example for him?
Was he really a bad influence on Ian? He’d never thought about that. But he didn’t believe that. Ian would never consider protesting or activism; he just wasn’t interested in things like that. He was his own person, and he was smart enough not to blindly copy everything Barley did. Colt knew that.
And it could be worse, right? It wasn’t like he was partying late or robbing banks or doing drugs. He was just standing up for what he believed in. Was that really so wrong?
If you ever thought of anyone other than yourself. That kind of stung. He didn’t think he was a selfish person, but maybe he was and he just didn’t know it.
There was a knock on the door. Barley turned the music down. “Come in.”
Colt walked in.
“Oh. Hi, Colt.”
Colt rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh, I think we should talk.”
Barley looked down at his lap. “Okay.” He picked up a Quests of Yore figurine sitting on his desk and rolled it around in his fingers as he waited for Colt to say something.
Colt just stood there for a long time, wishing he’d prepared something.
Barley frowned at the figurine. He hadn’t brought any of his stuff in from the van yet. And he’d taken all his Quests of Yore stuff with him to college. Where had this come from?
Colt cleared his throat. “Barley, look, I shouldn’t have said what I said out there. I just…”
The figurine began to glow. Colt stared at it. “What the—?”
A blinding white light filled the room. Barley’s head spun, and he fell back on the bed.
“Barley?” Colt said. Then his knees gave out. All four of them. He fell forward and crashed to the floor. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he blacked out.