Chapter Text
According to folk legend, a changeling's true appearance can only be viewed in a reflective surface, such as a mirror or another object with clear glass.
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Troy Barnes was six years old when he learned what a spanking is.
He wasn't the one being punished, but he saw it all the same. The other boy, the one with a Lion King shirt and eyes that were just a little too large, was bent over his father’s lap on the couch and getting quick smacks to his rump, each followed by a whimper. Troy would have liked to help the other boy, but he was only able to see any of this by peeking out from behind a pantry door he wasn't supposed to be hiding from. Any child’s desire to help is often overpowered by fear of their own punishment, and Troy was no different at this age.
Even if the father was hitting the boy, Troy knew it wasn’t his idea. There was a woman on the other end of the couch, and while she didn't say a word, Troy had been in trouble just enough to know that silence means you’ve really messed up this time. Her eyes held the “I’m very disappointed in you” look Troy assumed all mothers are born knowing, but there was an extra sharpness that showed far more than simple displeasure.
A bit weird, Troy thought, to be getting this angry over TV. The other boy, whose mother had introduced him as “Abed” when Troy was dropped off, had been watching him look through his bedroom's toybox when he asked about the television.
“Wanna watch TV together? They’re gonna start Disney Afternoon soon”.
Troy muttered an “okay” and dropped the teddy bear - pretty much anything was better than being cooped up in a room he was only in because his mom didn’t want the new kid to be lonely - and followed Abed into his parent’s room.
The television was covered with a sheet, with only the buttons visible. Sheesh, is his mom that much of a clean freak?
“Can you pull the sheet off?”
Troy turned to Abed, almost looking offended. What, was he the new kid’s servant now?
“Why don’t you take it off? It’s not even that big, my baby sister’s blanket is longer”. This wasn’t true, but that wasn’t his point anyway.
Abed looked down. “Just take it off and press the power button…I’ll give you one of my action figures, if you want. My Han Solo one is still in the package, I think”. His voice was meek, almost embarrassed, and Troy realized he couldn't say no. He turned to the TV, and removed the sheet to reveal a TV set not much different from the one at home. He pressed the power button, and watched the screen slowly glow and fizzle to life.
“Hey, where’s the remote-”
Troy saw about a second of Abed crouching down on his knees and staring at the floor before he sprung back up to his feet.
“Uh, it’s under my dad’s pillow most of the time. If it slipped behind the bed I’ll just crawl down to grab it.”
Troy wanted to ask why Abed had looked like he was hiding under a desk for an earthquake drill, but figured it was just another one of those things his mom called a “quirk”. Everyone’s different baby, you shouldn't point she’d said when his cousin with crossed eyes had come over for Christmas. So Troy found the remote, flipped from daily news to some cooking show to that hospital drama his dad liked, finally landing on an episode of Mighty Ducks.
“This show is stupid. Why are they giant ducks and not regular kids like in the movies?” Troy complained. Abed nodded and said nothing.
They sat there, eyes glued to the screen with nothing to tear them away, until the sounds of footsteps came up the hall. Abed froze.
“Let’s hide.”
Troy’s eyes widened.
“What’s the ma-”
Abed grabbed his arm - his grip was startlingly tight - and began to run to the bathroom. Troy tried pulling away, but that only served to nearly trip him up. He needn’t try anyway, because Abed had barely opened the door when his mother came in like a guardswoman on the trail. Her eyes darted from the television to the two boys. Her gaze was nothing but ice.
And so here Troy was, watching Abed’s dad give him one more slap for good measure and sitting him back up with surprising gentleness. Abed sniffled as he got off the couch, and turned towards his mom with downcast eyes.
“I just wanted to watch cartoons with Troy…I’m really sorry…”
“You know better, don’t you?”
Abed looked up. Troy could imagine those big eyes of his being a little wet around the edges.
“Yes mommy, I do. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Troy didn’t like how he said that. When you apologized to an adult, you weren’t supposed to totally mean it, not really. You were supposed to say what would make them happy and let you off the hook for the rest of the day. But Abed sounded like he really felt it all, like he would break into pieces if his mother was mad at him just one moment more. No, Troy didn’t like that at all.
“Alright, I’m glad you’ve learned your lesson. Now go back to that nice boy who came over, he’s probably missing you” Abed’s mother said, her voice slowly losing its ridges.
Abed walked away, back to looking at the floor. Troy suddenly became keenly aware of where he was hiding, and thought about making a dash for Abed’s bedroom. But Abed saw him pressed against the pantry door soon enough.
Abed looked at him for a bit, his eyes widening before squinting in unpleasant understanding.
“Abed? What are you doing?” his dad called out from the couch, his voice somewhat wounded. Abed looked back, his mouth going a little slack. Troy winced.
“Nothing baba, I was just taking a minute to think about what I've done”.
Wow, he’s good.
Troy slowly walked back to the stairs with the quietest footsteps he could manage. Abed followed closely behind.
Once back in Abed’s room, Troy didn't do much other than lean against the bed and feel the wool blanket against his cheek. The day’s taste had gone sour, and he could only hope his mom would be driving up soon.
Abed dropped something into his lap. Troy lazily reached down and felt hard plastic.
“I lied, he wasn’t still in his package. But he’s pretty clean” Abed said plainly as Troy turned the mini-Han around in his hand.
“You can keep it. I haven’t even seen Star Wars yet, my parents think it’s too violent” Troy replied with a shrug. He was lying for the second time today - his dad had shown him New Hope twice now - but getting a present from Abed just made him feel worse. He tried to nudge the toy into Abed’s palm.
Abed grabbed the toy away and threw it across the room.
Troy flinched, and watched as it fell dully against the cheap plaster wall. Abed stood there for a while, before gently scooping it up and setting it down on his pillow.
Even when their mothers made them say goodbye, neither boy would look the other in the face.