Archive of Our Own

Aguefort Academy was a school first and foremost, but it was run by a maniac, and its curriculum sure as hell reflected that fact. It was home to some of the weirdest assignments Adaine had ever had to face in her academic career.

Most of the time there was at least some logic to it- different drills or simulations that the party might face in their time adventuring to test party cohesion. Even the seemingly bizarre ones had some merit to them as plausible situations they could run into. Body swaps and illusion magic and carnivals run by liches were all par for the course. 

This recent assignment, however, took the cake. 

WHOOPS! YOUR PARTY MEMBER IS A KID!

On paper, it was meant to be a combination assignment between their adventuring classes and their general education ones. A common high school senior assignment was to take home a fake baby for a period of time to learn about childcare. A common adventuring dilemma was facing a high-powered individual who didn’t entirely know how to control their powers. So the assignment was born- turn your adventuring party member into a kid who retained their original, adult stats, and take care of them for a week.

There were some caveats. The kid-version retained their adult memories to some degree- the chronology was reversed, so it had the same fuzziness and distance of recalling a childhood memory. The parents were allowed to help, because making a bunch of high-school students solely responsible for the well-being of a child was too irresponsible even for Aguefort. Generous exceptions and alternative assignments were also allowed- like for Adaine. 

Fig would have been medically excused for being a tiefling, but she was technically not a part of their party anymore for dropping out, even if she pretty much stuck around anyways.

Adaine had looked into the origins of such bizarre spellwork- apparently this was usually used in therapy as a way to safely reconnect with childhood, like a form of magical age regression, in order to process trauma. Aguefort was just wildly misappropriating the spell from its intended use, which was also par for the course. It’s not like Aguefort was known for its care for the student’s emotional and physical well-being. Jawbone had his work cut out for him.

They had started the month-long assignment with Gorgug. Gorgug, they all agreed, was generally pretty well-behaved and would make the smoothest introduction into this assignment. Baby-Gorgug had been absolutely thrilled by his adult barbificer status, and had spent most of his time thoroughly interrogating Hopclap with questions about artificing. He was so glad to be just like his parents- though he shied away a little at the barbarian part, wary of his own destructive powers. They had decided to encourage him by taking him to a rage room- and when he saw all his cool new-old teen friends were on board, had gone absolutely ham. The Thistlesprings were thrilled for him to find a healthy outlet to his rage, and had said they wished they’d known about it when he was actually a child. That had given them some extra-credit points, starting strong with a high A.

Kristen had been next. They had tried to get Kristen excused, like Adaine had been excused for her own shitty parents, but there was less of a paper trail of evidence for Kristen. It really fucking sucked- Adaine knew Kristen’s parents sucked just as much as hers, but because Kristen’s move-in with Jawbone was unofficial, and she had never technically been disowned by her parents, it was a lot harder to prove. Jawbone would have to admit to functionally kidnapping Kristen for the better part of three years. So they were forced to play along with what the paperwork said was true, even if it meant bringing a Baby-Kristen to a world where she had abandoned her god and her family without her fully understanding all the reasons that had come to happen. The week had gone…about as well as could be expected. Halfway though Baby-Kristen seemed to have some sort of long divine intervention with her goddesses that had settled her behavior down. They skated by with a low C.

They had alternated between the more-difficult and the less-difficult in order to maintain their stamina, so Riz was up next. Riz was generally pretty okay, but he had the rampant curiosity of a child, little impulse control, and the stealth stats of a high-leveled rogue. Adaine had to make frequent use of the Locate Creature spell and had kept her See Invisibility up the whole week. Sklonda had been pretty helpful at locating him when they were drained of spell-slots from classes, both because she had a good instinct about where he might be hiding, and because Baby-Riz had a healthy fear of his mother and knew well enough to listen to her when she called for him. They left that week with a solid low-A, with some points deducted for their reliance on Riz’s parent for help.

Fabian was last. He claimed to be a perfectly well-behaved kid, but the rest of the party were all more than apprehensive about the behavior of a kid who had been raised by pirates, now with access to high-level combat mechanics. There was also the added wrinkles of Bill Seacaster’s death, Hallariel's new marriage, and the sibling that even adult-Fabian was less than thrilled about. They decide to make his home-base Mordred instead of Seacaster in order to limit Baby-Fabian’s exposure to the complicated new dynamics of his homelife.

 It’s the last week of the assignment for them and Adaine is more than looking forward to this bullshit being over with. 

 To Fabian’s credit, he starts out pretty well-behaved. He adjusts remarkably quickly to his new reality as the details of the assignment are explained to him, even to the details of his father’s death and Cathilda’s absence. He is easily swayed to trusting his friends with the presence of the Hangman, and when they arrive to Mordred, is thrilled by Baxter. He clearly thinks Sandra-Lynn is the coolest person alive when he finds out about her ranger job, which is equal parts adorable and blackmail material for when he returns. 

He is polite as they all sit together for a family dinner, remarkably good table manners for such a young age. Adaine forgets sometimes that Fabian also grew up with a wealthy Elvish mother who would care about that sort of thing.

The dinner goes smoothly, at first. Everybody is talking and nobody really notices how quiet Baby-Fabian is as he eats, figuring he's just getting adjusted to his new surroundings. Fig chatters away about visiting Ayda through the Leviathan portal in order to work on their upcoming travel plans. 

This is their first mistake- nobody catches the way Fabian’s ears pick up. 

He excuses himself to the bathroom, but when 10 minutes pass and he is still absent, alarms begin to go off. When Locate Creature doesn’t catch him in the radius, it's panic all around. Riz is the one to finally put the pieces together and deduce his location.

“You reminded him about the Leviathan portal,” he realizes aloud, “and he knows Cathilda is there.”

The Sending Adaine receives from Ayda moments later all but confirms it, and the party rushes to push through the Leviathan portal. They’re too late- Fabian had clocked Ayda’s Sending and rushed out while she was casting it. 

The only advantage they have is a pretty good idea of where he’s trying to get to- though there is the risk that Baby-Fabian won’t be able to properly remember where Cathilda is staying. Leviathan is a dangerous place for anybody, let alone a child, even if that child is equipped with high-level stats.

They all sprint through Leviathan, traversing ropes and barrels and threatening-looking pirates. It's not unlike Sophomore Year when Fabian ran off on his own, but at least this time, Gorgug and Fig know better than to try to use a rope to accelerate their path.

Fabian must make it on his own without trouble, because when they burst through Cathilda’s front door, Baby-Fabian is sitting on Cathilda’s lap, being thoroughly scolded for running off on his own. He doesn't really seem to be listening to her as he nods along to her lecture, non-plussed. As he's startled by his friends, his face quickly turns to that of annoyance. It's a mildly hysterical expression to see on a seven-year-old's face, if not for the fact that the seven year old has just expertly evaded several high-level adventurers looking for him and navigated through one of the most dangerous locations the Bad Kids have ever stepped foot in. It's a sobering reminder of what exactly this assignment entails- they're not dealing with a regular kid.

“See?” Cathilda scolds,gesturing towards them. “I told you you must have your friends worried. You must have given them quite the fright, running off like that.”

Fabian rolls his eyes and pouts a little. “I wasn't running away,” he insists. “I was gonna go back!”

“If you wanted to go to Cathilda you could have just asked!” Fig yells, still a little out of breath from their wild goose chase. “We would have taken you!”

Fabian shrugs, kicking his feet a little. “Can't I stay with ‘Thilda during this stupid assignment?” he asks. “I thought she was like, super far away in Leviathan and that was why, but you have a portal! And it's like a week and she's my maid, and my Papa is dead so you should be extra nice to me.”

“That's…not how the assignment works, buddy,” Riz explains.

Fabian groans. “Then lie!” he groans, stomping angrily. “What, like it's hard?”

Adaine stifles a laugh. Yup. That was Fabian, alright.

“It's not just that, dearie,” Cathilda explains, placing Fabian back on her lap. “I have a lot of responsibilities here at the Row. I know you're little right now, but you're all grown up, my darling boy. It's only a week and then you'll be back to being able to take care of yourself.”

“I can take care of myself just fine now,” Baby-Fabian says, just as indignant and over-confident as his older self.

Cathilda presses a hand to his cheek and he softens. “You can always visit. I promise,” she says. “Now or when you get back to being big. Just make sure you ask your friends first. I know you don't know them as well right now, but they're your crew. They're just trying to look out for their own.”

Fabian’s face crumples a bit but he nods in understanding, defeated. He reaches up and hugs Cathilda and she coos as she hugs him back. Adaine’s heart aches a bit as she watches his little hands burrow into Cathilda’s dress as he clings to her, unwilling to pull away.

He's just a little kid. As scary as him running off was, of course he would want to seek out Cathilda as soon as he knew he could. With his father dead, Cathilda was the only other person Baby-Fabian knew and trusted. Well, besides…

Besides his mother.

 It occurs to Adaine, as she watches Baby-Fabian sniffle into Cathilda’s shoulder, that he had never once actually asked about his mother. They were all worried about it, with Gilear and the baby, but it had never come up. He had never questioned it.

Adaine frowns.

It takes a good while for Fabian to finally be willing to separate from Cathilda, and when he does, he won't talk with any of them. Fig is eventually able to cheer him up with promises of ice cream- something he's apparently never had at this age. Soon they are all sitting packed in a booth at Basrar's chatting away. Fabian bounces in his seat and boisterously interjects with his own declarations. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to give him sugar, but it's good to see him come out of his shell a bit. He's been unusually quiet- but this is familiar territory. This is the Fabian Adaine knows. 

He's, by all accounts, a perfectly well-behaved and normal kid. If anything, he's exceeded expectations. He's adjusted quickly even despite the circumstances surrounding his parents, and even when he had acted out and run away, it hadn't been all that difficult to deal with. He cooperated easily. He's a lot less rambunctious and disorderly than Adaine might have imagined from her friend who was raised by pirates. 

It should reassure her. 

It doesn't. 

There is an inkling feeling, a gut instinct, that Adaine can't shake. 

She brings her thoughts up to Jawbone later that night, when Fabian is tucked in and asleep. Jawbone's face scrunches in thought as he considers her words.

“I don't know, Adaine,” he replies, voice rough. “I didn’t see anything that made me think anything was wrong. Sure, he was a little nervous, but he's coming into a weird situation.”

“He's quieter and more polite around adults. He was raised by pirates!” Adaine retorts. “He didn't ask about his mother, not once. It's- it's weird, Jawbone.”

“I'm not saying it isn't. But based on what we know about Fabian’s childhood, none of that is all that unusual or out of character for him,” Jawbone replies. “Sweetie, I know you love your friends. But isn't it possible you might be projecting a little bit?”

Fury and betrayal strike through her like a knife and she has to take a breath to actually consider what Jawbone is saying. Is she seeing things that aren't actually there?

She doesn't think so. The Seacaster parents have always loved Fabian fiercely, that much is true, but there had always been moments that stood out to her as unusual, little things she'd dismissed that, now that she's really thinking about it, add up to a larger story. She remembers Bill coming in to confront Fabian in prison and the fight that had ensued, remembers the way Fabian had curled up in the corner of their cell and refused to talk to anyone. She remembers when Fabian's father trained them for a whole day without break, remembers being frightened at the way the kind, booming man had suddenly turned to cold anger and disappointment. The lesson had been necessary, but she still remembers the fear she had felt.

Fabian always defended his parents, and she'd believed him. His parents loved him. That much she was certain of. But that didn't mean they hadn't also hurt him.

“Maybe I'm exaggerating things,” she admits. “But I really don't think it's nothing, Jawbone. Can you just keep an eye on him?”

“I will, I promise,” Jawbone says, but she can tell by his tone of voice that he doesn't entirely believe her. She tries not to be angry, she really does, but her jaw clenches tight as she bids Jawbone a goodnight and retreats to her bed.

Is she projecting? She doesn’t know. She knows she sees a lot of her younger self in seven-year-old Fabian, in his impeccable manners and unusual quietness. But he was also a kid who was in a weird situation and maybe he was just nervous and doing his best to push through. He was nervous because he had neither of his most trusted adults to help guide him. 

Maybe Jawbone was right. 

But she doesn’t trance well that night, tossing and turning, no matter how much she tries to quell her anxieties.

Nothing else alerts her as incredibly alarming. Fabian begins to open up to his friends and becomes a bit more rambunctious. She notes the way his demeanor changes around adults, especially adults he's unfamiliar with, but it's nothing that can't be explained away. The Bad Kids take turns with him throughout the week at school, each walking him through their classes.

It's Adaine's day with him, today. He's polite and attentive throughout, even when it's clear that he's bored (wizard classes are not suited for a young child). He is appeased easily with some drawing supplies or a game on a crystal. He is very entranced by Solesian technology, actually, which Adaine is surprised by. 

“We didn't move to Solace for good until I was a little bigger,” Fabian explains as he taps away on her crystal. “ ‘Cause even with the Solace contract, Papa was still, like, doing adventures for the gov-ern-ment. For a while we would go back ‘n forth.”

Adaine nods. They're sitting in the back of class to not be disruptive. An Unseen Servant is taking notes for her and she's been fine with this unit, anyways, so talking with Fabian is more important. And more interesting.

“Why did you decide to settle on land?” she asks.

“Oh, ‘cause I got kidnapped,” Fabian says, as casually as anything else. His attention remains glued to the Flappy Phoenix game, his tongue out in concentration. It's an adorable picture of childhood, if not for the nuclear bomb he's just casually dropped into conversation.

Ice floods into her veins, though she tries to shield her panic. She'd been looking for something alarming, something to justify the gut feeling in her stomach, and this was certainly that.

It didn't necessarily mean anything terrible about Fabian’s parents, she tries to remember. Bill Seacaster had enemies and it wasn't his fault if somebody had used his young son for that blood feud, and if he'd settled on Solace for good after that, then he had taken action to protect his son. Maybe it should have happened sooner, proactively rather than reactively, but he'd still done it. This wasn't proof of the gnawing feeling in Adaine’s gut.

It still wasn't good. 

“I didn't know that about you,” she says after a beat, trying to smother her expression into something that could pass as neutral.

He blinks, looking up at her and tilting his head. “Why not?” he asks, with all the innocent curiosity of a young child.

She knows Fabian isn't the most vulnerable of people. She can count on one hand the number of times she's seen him cry, and that doesn't even include the day his father had died. It had taken Leviathan for her to realize that his confidence wasn't unshakable, that it was a shield for some very deep insecurities. Even then, he never fully went into detail about what exactly had happened that had turned out so badly. She couldn't blame him, with the way they all interrogated him, bordering on accusatory. She hadn't seen the aftermath of it all, she got kidnapped not long after, but she remembers how much he had shut down. By the time she saw him again, he was back to his usual self, so she hadn't thought much about it.

She hadn't thought about a lot of things. She hadn't thought about how easily Fabian was able to navigate Leviathan- sure, she knew that Fabian wasn't a Solace native, neither was she. But she hasn't really considered why somebody like Bill Seacaster would settle in a suburban town seemingly antithetical to everything he loved. She hadn't thought about Captain James Whitclaw's anger towards Fabian. She hadn't thought about what it really meant to be Bill Seacaster’s son.

“When you're older, you don’t really like to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable,” she explains. “I wish you would talk more. We all care about you a lot.”

He nods. “I'll have to remember that,” he says, looking at her determinedly. “For big me. Maybe then he will.”

She smiles. “I hope so.”

Fabian taps on her crystal again to restart the game. “I think that was when I first met, um, Ayda. I got hurt real bad so ‘Thilda took me to the Gardens. I stayed there for a little bit and I remember Ayda hanging out with me. She was really nice and we promised to stay friends but then after that we went to Solace for good.”

“It's nice that you got to see her again, then.”

“Yeah, but we don't really talk, I think. I don't know. It's weird to remember being bigger. I think I want to talk to her more, but I don’t know if she remembers me.”

Adaine swears to resolve this once Fabian is back to normal. Ayda is her best friend, and she's mentioned once or twice that while she loved Adaine and Fig, it would be nice to have a friend her age that knew what being a pirate was like. Ayda is incredible and deserves more friends, and so does Fabian.

(Ayda might also remember some details about what had happened that Fabian won't be willing to share, but Adaine’s allowed to have some ulterior motives.)

“What was getting kidnapped like?” she asks, prodding.

Fabian turns and narrows his eye. “You’re just trying to make me answer ‘cause I won't answer when I'm bigger,” he accuses. “I'm not telling you.”

She laughs. Caught. He might not be quite as allergic to vulnerability at this age, but he still was far from an open book. She elects to continue showing him things on her crystal, instead, and he lights up as that invitation.

Still, as he scoots closer to her as she explains the different apps on her crystal, she can't help but wonder. She can't help the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She asks the rest of their friends how their days with Fabian had gone. She doesn’t tell any of them the suspicion she has, and they all say the same thing- that he's surprisingly well-behaved and they hadn't had any issues with him at all. Gorgug says he'd been a little on edge during his Barbarian class, but that was all. Even Riz, her most perceptive friend, doesn't seem to see what she's seeing.

Sure, the whole kidnapping thing was alarming, and she still thinks it's weird he's not brought up his mother at all, but that's not what she's worried about. That's not what her gut is telling her is off. 

Adaine starts to feel like she's going crazy. Why can't she let this go? Why does she still have this itch that there is something she is missing?

It's the last day of the assignment. Friday. Fabian will wake up the next morning back to normal, they'll all finish their final questionnaires, and they will be free to forget this happened entirely. Gorthalax is over for dinner after practicing some new songs with Fig for her indie album recording. Adaine’s about ready to admit that Jawbone had been right- she had been projecting.

They're all sitting together for family dinner when Sandra-Lynn suggests off-handedly that Fig look into getting a GED. Fig flips out on her, accusing her of not being supportive, and the table erupts into chaos.

It's been a touchy subject, Fig dropping out. She hasn't been able to get things started as quickly as she wanted to- going independent meant finicky legal trouble with her studio, and traveling with Ayda and touring requires thorough planning and scheduling and arguing with venues. It's been nice having her break into the school during lunch to hang out and still functionally be a part of their party, but it's been hard for Fig. Adaine knows she'll work it out, and Fig has been working really hard to get things settled. Sandra-Lynn insists she was really only floating the idea, but she had inadvertently stepped on a point of insecurity that had Fig's defenses flaring hot and red.

Adaine can't help but flinch at Fig's screaming- she doesn't like the arguments. She knows and loves her family, but her childhood has drilled fear into her, and it's hard to shake. She usually just excuses herself from the table if the argument lasts longer than a few minutes.

Something in her thinks to check on Fabian, maybe the same thing that's been telling her all week that something is wrong, because when she turns to face him, her stomach drops.  

If she's on edge, he's petrified.

His eye is glued to the ensuing argument, wide and dilated, but his breathing is gaining speed. His ears are completely pinned back. Still, his jaw is set tightly and he makes no noise. He is completely frozen in place, but primed to bolt, like a prey animal when startled. He looks identical to Adaine, at that age, as her own parents bickered. She follows his gaze to see it is locked on Gorthalax- the closest match in build, she realizes, to Fabian's father.

Any vindication she feels about having been right is drowned out by the overwhelming concern she feels for her friend. 

Gorthalax stands suddenly, gesturing in an effort to deescalate, and Fabian flinches, hard enough that he nearly falls out of his chair. 

All eyes turn to him, small and scared, and Fig's shouting dies out. Jawbone goes to say something, to try to calm Fabian down, but he is out of the room in the blink of an eye. Adaine quickly pulls up Locate Creature and sends a Sending out to Ayda to keep an eye on the Compass Points Portal.

“Why did he run- what the fuck?” Fig says as she stands to go after him. Kristen stands too, similarly concerned.

 Adaine hears other people speaking their own concern, but it is muffled, drowned out by her heart pounding in her ears as she rushes past them to follow the magical trail. She pushes through staircases and turns down hallways until finally she comes across a closet door. She's glad he hadn't run off to Leviathan again in this state, at least, as she sits down in the hallway to catch her breath. She hears him on the other side hold his breath in an attempt to not get found.

“You're okay,” she says. “You're safe, Fabian. It's okay.”

She continues to speak in a reassuring voice. She tries to think about what she would have liked to hear from somebody, when she was hidden like this, and had no one to help.

“You're safe. Nobody is going to hurt you, I promise,” she says. “And if they do, I'm here. I've got spells, Fabian. I'll kick anybody's ass. But these are good people, I promise. I know Fig got a little loud and they were yelling, but nobody was ever gonna hurt each other. We don't do that here.”

“...You promise?” comes muffled from behind the closet door.

“I promise. Swear on Ankarna and Cassandra,” she says. “You don't have to come out until you're ready.”

It takes a little while, but she doesn't push.

Eventually, the door creaks open and baby-faced, tear streaked Baby-Fabian peers up at her, sniffling. She reaches for him and he collapses into her arms.

She thinks it might be the first time she's ever properly hugged him.

She holds him, rocking back and forth and making soothing noises until he's calmed down. He cries into her shoulder silently- only an occasional hiccup or sob breaks through. Slowly, his breathing begins to settle and his tears dry up. She doesn't let go of him until he pulls away.

“Can we go back to dinner?” he asks quietly, scrubbing his face. “I really like Mrs. Lydia's mac and cheese.”

She can't help but smile at that, even as she's blinking back a few of her own tears.

“Of course,” Adaine says, taking his hand to guide him back to the dining room. She silently sends a Message to Fig and Kristen that everything is fine, now, he'd just gotten a little frightened by the arguing, so by the time they get back to the dinner table everybody is back to chatting casually and don't give Fabian’s return too much attention. 

She can see everybody giving him worried glances and Lydia gives him an extra-big helping when he asks for more mac and cheese, but nobody pushes him for an explanation. She especially sees how bad Fig feels, how uncharacteristically quiet she goes. Fabian seems to notice, too, because he pipes up and asks her if he can watch Gorthalax and Fig play after dinner. It's a clumsy olive branch, but it's one Fig is happy to accept, her face lighting up as she grins widely back and leans over to ruffle Fabian’s hair.

For her part, Adaine also goes a little quiet. It's hard not to think about her own childhood. It's hard not to think about Fabian's childhood and what this all means. 

Why hadn't she known this, sooner? Why hadn't she seen this sooner? She's been friends with Fabian for years. She's known his parents for years. Guilt crawls into the pit of her stomach as memories flash by her, of her getting away from her parents to a better, safer home, and of Fabian seeing it all happen and never saying a word.

She knows it's more complicated than that. She knows he never hated his parents the way she hated hers, she knows his father had made an effort to change and he'd had Cathilda and it was different. She knows that. But she also knows the terror she'd seen on his face down to her core. She knows that fear. It's drilled into her body like a path worn down in grass.

Fabian has always dodged vulnerability as much as he evaded blows in a fight. She thought it to be a matter of his pride- toxic masculinity and all that. Now, she wonders if it's been a matter of his safety. She had learned to defend herself through defiant anger and rebellion, pushing against her parent's sharp words and expectations so she wouldn't let them hurt her anymore. Fabian had learned to defend himself by his grand performance of confidence. 

In all honesty, Adaine’s a little shattered. Fabian is her friend. He has time and again been there for her, has stepped up and defended her- and what has she offered him in return? She thinks about Leviathan and how poorly they'd all reacted. She thinks about Junior Year and turning down his frequent invitations to the Manor and the way he'd go a little quiet when she said no. She'd apologized for Leviathan, they all had, and they all had helped him sort out his house in Junior Year, but have they been there for him?

Jawbone sits down next to her and she blinks in surprise. She's been so caught up in her swirling thoughts she hadn't realized everyone else had already left the dinner table.

“Is Fabian okay?” she asks, her voice small and wavering.

“He's okay. You calmed him down. Fig's taking him out to Basrar's right now.”

“I don’t mean now, Jawbone. I mean, is he okay?”

Jawbone sighs. “I don’t know, sweetie. I think you'll have to ask him that yourself.”

She leans forward and Jawbone pulls her into his arms. She blinks back tears as she buries her face into his shoulder. She wants the reassurance that her friend will be okay, that her friend is okay, but she knows Jawbone can't promise that. For now she will accept the comfort and support he provides, and hopes that it will be enough. 

Tomorrow, Fabian will wake up and be back to his normal self again, and she will talk to him. She doesn't know what she will say- she knows her friend well enough to know that he will not want to talk- but she needs to say something. 

She needs her friend to know that he isn’t alone.

The memories of the past week are blurry and vaguely embarrassing, and Fabian is more than glad that all this bullshit is over with, as he packs up his belongings in the guest room at Mordred. He is not looking forward to all the homework he certainly has to catch up on from his other classes, but that is a problem for Future Fabian. Present Fabian has to have breakfast with his friends and deal with the inevitable teasing that will come out of what his child-self had gotten up to over the past week. Whatever. He sends a message out to the Hangman that he's back so that the hellhound will be ready for him and he can leave as soon as he can without being rude. He really would like to just sneak home, but regrettably, he has manners.

At least he won't have to cook for himself, he thinks as he finishes packing his duffel bag and wanders out to the family room. His friends had held a running-a-household marathon training for him, so now he wasn't completely incapable in the kitchen. Riz had to make a map of the Manor for him which was a little embarrassing, but in Fabian's defense, his mother had completely reorganized the household over the summer. He knew where things had been, The Ball, it wasn't his fault that his mother had stripped the household of everything he remembered about it.

He was still a little upset about that, actually, how quickly she had moved his father's belongings away and into storage. And then there was the impending baby, which he was actively not thinking about, not at all, even as his mother began to build a nursery and take parenting classes and-

It was fine. Fabian was super cool and chill and fine about it.

He's a little surprised to see Adaine curled up on the couch as he wanders in, duffel bag over his shoulder. He's gotten up pretty early, but she is an elf, so she doesn't sleep. Her knees are tucked to her chest as she watches the morning news channel.

He sighs dramatically as he collapses onto the couch across from her and she smiles, laughing a little.

“How was I?” he asks, “Please tell me I didn't do anything too embarrassing, Adaine, my reputation can't take it. “

“You ran away to Cathilda the first night,” she says, “but otherwise, it was fine. Honestly, much easier than Riz was.”

“Ha ha!” he cheers. He is absolutely rubbing that in The Ball's face. “I told you! I was an impeccable child!”

She smiles again, but there's a little tightness to her grin that makes him falter in his celebration. 

“Are you quite alright?” he asks, concerned. “I-did something happen? I'm sure I didn't mean to upset you, but-”

“No, nothing like that,” she interrupts, but she is fidgeting with her hands and won't quite look him in the eye. Her voice goes quiet and a little more serious as she speaks up again. “I…how much do you remember?”

He scrambles to go through the blurry, strange memories of the past week, trying to figure out what has Adaine so out of sorts. The chronomancy magic makes the memories feel much older and harder to grasp than they actually are and he struggles to keep track of specific details. He does vaguely recall having run away, and the rest of the week being fairly mundane, but nothing stands out in his mind. He thinks on the last day he got a little freaked out by something, but nothing had actually happened. Had he said something? He had talked to Adaine about some of his childhood in Leviathan, he thinks. He's pretty sure. 

“Oh!” he recalls. “I- Adaine, if you're worried about the kidnapping, it really wasn't all that bad. I don't even remember most of it.”

Her face scrunches. “That's not as reassuring as you think it is, Fabian. But it wasn't that…” she sighs, biting her nails. “You, um. Fabian. You know that we're friends, right?”

“Of course.”

“And that means you can talk to us about things. I know you don't like to be super open about stuff, but- but we're there for you, you know?”

Oh. Is that the problem? Maybe him being a kid had made her think about all the stuff happening in his life. Or maybe he'd found out about it as a kid and had a tantrum. 

“I know that. It's just-,” he says, sighing and crossing his arms. “Lately it's been a little complicated. Fig is so excited for Gilear and Mama and- I don't know. I don't want her to feel bad.”

“You can talk to me. I promise I won't judge,” Adaine says.

He gets the feeling there's still something he's missing, as Adaine stares at him with dead seriousness that seems far beyond the limits of his childish jealousy towards a baby. 

Still, for her sake, he nods in reply. It's a little bit of a relief, actually, to know she doesn't judge him for being a bit upset about everything.

She doesn't say anything more on the matter and soon the others begin to trickle in for breakfast. He gets teased a little for his apparent infatuation with Sandra-Lynn and Baxter, but beyond that, it's like any other meal with his friends. He's relieved his child-self hadn't done anything too humiliating, but Adaine is still being weird. He doesn't ask about it- he doesn’t want to push her- and he goes home without much fuss. He spends the weekend swamped with homework and he just hopes that whatever it is, it's shaken off by Monday.

It isn't.

 Something is still bothering her, he can tell, but he's not sure what. They get an ‘A’ on the assignment overall, which is a small victory, but he's clearly done something to upset her. He knows Adaine didn't have the best childhood, so maybe child-him had inadvertently said something that hurt her feelings? Or had brought up bad memories? But then why would she be so insistent on asking him how he was feeling? He racks through his memories again but comes up empty-handed. 

He tries throughout the week to catch a moment alone with her, but it's difficult. Between his own busy schedule and Adaine's, free time is scant. The Bad Kids also usually hang out in a group, so it's hard to find a reason to ask to talk one-on-one without coming across as suspicious.

Eventually, he manages to pull her aside for a moment alone at the end of a school day, insisting he needs her help with an assignment and that he can drive her on the Hangman back home. It's not technically a lie, she could help him on their shared gen-ed classes or the overlapping Fallinel history in their individual curricula, even if there isn't a specific assignment he needs help on. So it's fine. Probably. They settle into the school library to work and he peppers her with questions that are quasi-believable. Unfortunately for him, Adaine is annoyingly perceptive, and sees right through his bullshit.

“You don't need my help,” she accuses after the fourth or fifth half-baked question. “Fabian, what's going on?”

“I just needed to talk to you, alone, “ he admits, leaning back in his chair.

“You could have just said that!”

“I didn't want you to get all anxious and weird about it! If I asked you ahead of time, you would overthink it and spiral. I-Look, Adaine, it's not a big deal. I just…you've been acting a bit… strange.”

Her eyebrows quirk, surprised. “What? Since when?”

“Since last week. Since- I- if baby-me did something, it's okay if you tell me. You're allowed to be upset.”

She averts her gaze, going still. Her ear twitches and she fiddles with her hands a little- all telltale signs of her anxiety. He's caught her, caught on to something she hasn't necessarily wanted him to see.

“Or we can just forget about it!” he backtracks as he sees her reaction. Whatever this is isn’t worth making his friends upset. “It's not a big deal either way. I just wanted to check in with you.”

“You didn't do anything, Fabian,” she sighs, finally looking back up at him. “I don't know how to explain without upsetting you.”

“I won't be upset.”

“You can't promise that.”

“Yes, I can! I just did! Whatever this is, Adaine, I will not be upset at you. I declare it so. Have Ayda write up a contract about it and everything.”

He folds his arms and puffs out his chest, grandiose and confident. It's exaggerated to try to make her laugh, but she doesn't, sighing and turning away from him.

“I know…” she speaks slowly, clearly deliberating over her words. “I know you love your parents a lot and I'm not trying to make you feel any way about them. But the whole week, I kept having this gut feeling something was wrong. And then on the last day Fig and Gorthalax were arguing and you got very, very scared. I know that fear. It's not normal for a child to be so afraid.”

He barks a laugh, uncomfortable. What is she implying? “Isn't every child afraid of their parents, sometimes?” he dismisses. “I'm sure-”

“Not like that, Fabian. Not that afraid,” Adaine chews on her lip, brow furrowed in thought. “I think that you've experienced a lot of things that were harmful to you as a child, that you think are normal because it's been made normal to you by the adults around you.”

Fabian…doesn’t quite know what to say to that. Of all the things he expected Adaine to say, that wasn't one of them. His first instinct is to defend his parents- he had wonderful, perfectly caring parents. Sure there were some things he had struggled with, but no parent was perfect. Right?

 But this was Adaine, and Adaine of all people certainly knew what bad parents looked like. 

Maybe she was seeing something that wasn't there. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe she had misinterpreted something in his behavior.

( A small part of him thinks about his friend's parents, and the quiet, seething jealousy he finds himself smothering down when he sees Jawbone give Adaine a hug or Sandra-Lynn ruffle Fig's hair. He thinks about Riz talking about his dad and how when he'd been away on missions, he always asked about all the small things he'd missed, every little detail. He thinks about how Papa had never done that when he'd gotten home from an adventure.)

“You don't have to say anything. There's no rush,” Adaine says softly. “I just want you to know that I'm here for you.”

“I know that,” he scoffs, but he's still floundering a little bit, not entirely sure what to make of what she's implying. “I- of course I know that, Adaine, we're friends. We're party.”

“I know. But I think you forget that, sometimes. I just thought you could use the reminder.”

He softens. He knows he can be…avoidant about talking about things, so it's a surprise for Adaine to point that out so openly. He's glad for the reminder, swallowing back the wave of emotions that's suddenly hit him. His friends care about him. 

“Of course,” he repeats, sincere. “Yeah, Adaine. Of course.”

She smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. He smiles back- a little uncertain- before coughing and offering up the idea to go to Seacaster and turn this into a study-date. She agrees easily, allowing him to deflect from the vulnerability, but the warmth in his chest doesn't leave.

In the years to come it will become harder and harder for Fabian to avoid confronting his childhood. He will have to go through the emotional gauntlet of confronting long-buried traumas. He will come out the other side, not unscathed, but better for it. He will learn to find true confidence in himself and he will learn that family can be who you choose. He will learn to make amends with his father for all his failures and learn that healing can happen without forgiveness. 

Right now, though, he is unsure. He has not confronted those traumas, has only barely begun to acknowledge their existence.

 There is one thing he is certain of, however- that his friend is there for him, and even if he doesn't understand it, he is glad for her support.