Chapter Text
Adaine had talked to all the Bad Kids about what had happened inside of the Nightmare Forest.
Specifically Gorgug.
They both had the claustrophobia-inducing nightmare landscape — the two of them being the biggest in the group gave them the shared experience of knowing exactly how it felt to bonk their heads on everything and needing to duck to fit through doorways.
Gorgug obviously had the experience much more dramatically, but Adaine was still tall, even for Elves. Her slimness seemed to directly lead to her multiple growth spurts: What she lacked in bulk she made up for in height.
Growing up she hadn’t gone to any schools that weren’t run by a handpicked tutor (more often than not a hand-me-down from Aelwyn once she grew out of them), but anytime she was able to sneak away and meet up with the other Elf kids in Falinel it was obvious how drastically she towered over them.
As it is with most kids though, they thought it was cool that she was tall. Easier to throw a ball and have someone catch it (even if their aim was off)! More places they could get to, unrestricted by their prepubescent height! No thoughts about the unnaturalness of it nor the undesirability of such an attribute for a young lady.
The adults weren’t kind — not the ones that Angwyn and Arianwen hung around.
And on top of that, Aelwyn was never shy or secretive about mocking her unnatural height (a fact that only ever ended up adding to Adaine’s disdain and resentment towards her sister). Their fights almost always ended with Adaine having scrunched into herself as much as possible while Aelwyn and their parents stretched taller and taller, their overpowering shadow over the both of them, blocking any means of escape.
That didn’t mean that Aelwyn didn’t tower over her too, but hey! It was always a comfort to Adaine that no matter how small she seemed during those moments, there were even other people bigger than her stupid older sister.
Then she saw Aelwyn curled up in that orb, smaller than she had ever made Adaine feel. Broken. Exhausted. Hurt. Small.
The Nightmare led her to an ocean.
It was so big. She was nothing in it. A blimp in its endless expanding volume and story.
And she accepted it… sunk.
They put her in an orb too.
But after all this, everything she and everyone else had been through?
She refused to be made little — lesser.
Her heart thumped, a million miles a second and her breathing had kept slipping away from her, too slight to get a good grasp of. The memories and exercises and practices and sessions from Jawbone shrunk away into specks. Gone from her memory.
And they had her… Of course they had her.
All her big plans, ideas she couldn’t help but abandon, projects she had started but lost track of, hobbies she had forgotten about. Everything she had ever wanted to do but been incapable of, for one reason or another. The things that made Adaine, Adaine. Made her feel… big. Made her feel like she was worth more than just a dead fish sinking into the bottom of an enormous ocean that didn’t care whether she rotted or floated.
Because she wasn’t nothing.
She wasn’t small.
She was big enough to kill her fucking dad.
(And Ayda gave her a spell that makes her even bigger and stronger. No more cowering below someone else, she was the big one now — fuck anyone who tried to make her shrink away. She would never let that happen again).
Gorgug told her about all the bugs and creepy crawlers that he was forced to endure during the tunnel.
The way they skittered and crawled in every orifice of his body. Tickling around his mouth and eyes. The feeling of needing to scream and brush everything off — to rip off your skin and just start fresh with something entirely undisturbed.
When he had finally made it out, strained every bit of his body out of the pathway which was made for someone built completely different than he was, he was… alone.
It’s Gorgug keep going.
The description of the bugs had made Adaine shiver, the memory of her panic attacks sounding incredibly similar to the physical experience Gorgug had been forced through.
Wanting to rip off your flesh and start again to see if it resets you and your experiences? Check!
Needing to scream? Check!
Skittering and crawling all over your body? Check!
Her nerves wriggled around constantly, hyperactive bugs just beneath her skin that couldn’t leave her alone — addicted to her panic.
She is doing much better now. She takes her medicine. She talks to Jawbone. Some series’ of impromptu therapy sessions with Aelwyn leads to midnight crying sessions that genuinely only are good for their mental health later on.
She has friends (‘friends’ plural!), some not even in her Adventuring Party!
Which, not that she’d ever bash her best friends, is nice. Knowing that she has a support system that she hasn’t also been back to back with in the trenches, tears and blood streaming and mingling down their faces as they fought tooth and nail for each other's lives. Sometimes, at that point, the relationship becomes more about how nice it is that they survived long enough to even have a relationship.
Reading in her room is a hobby she’s also picked up since the events of Sophomore Year. Sitting spread out in the window of her bedroom, encased in sunlight and warmth and just… enjoying herself.
Lydia had recommended her multiple good books that weren’t purely just educational. She currently is halfway through Fantasy: The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and she can’t help the tears that spring to her eyes as the words take hold inside her.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she registers that Zayn appears in her bedroom but she can’t seem to pull her eyes away from the pages.
This kid, his sister and his relationship, all his friends hating him and then… He actually made it somewhere.
The end makes her really sad. The hospital, the visits, the letters the letters the letters.
They’re infinite.
“Adaine? Adaine!” She feels her shoulder getting shaken and she jumps looking up at the ghostly translucent figure.
“Zayn…” Her voice is breathless, matching his body.
He tilts his head at her, worry visible across his face. “Are you alright? You were crying.”
She reaches up and touches her face. They come back wet. She looks down at the pages in the book. Love always, Charlie splattered with her own tears.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry,” she wipes at her face and pulls a smile together when she looks at Zayn. “What was it that you needed? I wasn’t listening.”
“It, uh, doesn’t really matter. Did something happen, are you alright?”
Adaine’s mouth opens. Then she closes it. “I- uh. I’m alright.” She blinks down at the pages. “Nobody’s really- Nobody’s really asked me that,” she lets out a shuddering breath, “unless it was for something really serious.”
Zayn sinks down into a chair next to her (literally, he needs to slightly pull himself out of the chair so half of his legs aren't missing). “I think it’s important to ask even for the small things. Sometimes the small things escalate into big things, sometimes they don’t. Most of the time, to the person, they’re equally important.”
Adaine swallows. A lump rises in her throat that she tries to fight back into the pit of her stomach — she can’t remember if she ate recently. She started the book as she was sitting down and — she checks her watch — half the day had passed!
“I- uh. Oh my god. I’ve been here for ages!” She starts to stand up, wiping at her face again roughly, trying to clear any remembrance of tears from her face. “Thanks for checking on me Zayn! I had so much I needed to do…”
Zayn floats awkwardly to the side next to her as she races around gathering spells and other school related stuff. He wasn’t sure where to stand — float — not wanting to get in her way, but also not wanting to… Not be there.
Adaine pauses, looking at Zayn, “Are you alright? Is that why you were asking me?”
“I’m alright.”
She narrows her eyes. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if you weren’t?”
“Would you tell me?” He raises his eyebrow and looks pointedly at her book, the page still stained with what was left of her drying tears.
Adaine raises her chin. “Are you trying to insinuate something?”
“No- er, yes. I am.”
She frowns, sinking into her chair. “You first, and then I’ll tell you what’s bugging me.”
He leans forward towards her, feet levitating slightly off the ground. “Ha! So you do admit something’s wrong.”
“Yes. Haha, so clever, you caught me! But now I’m worried about you so, impromptu therapy session. Let’s go.” She smiles at Zayn cheekily.
“Fine!” He sinks into the chair.
Silence fills the room.
Zayn looks anywhere but at Adaine. Adaine finds a new doodle from Fig on her shoes every time the second hand ticks by on her watch.
“… You know, this didn’t happen with me and Aelwyn. I don’t know whether it was because it was very late and we were sleep deprived and exhausted, or because we are both so traumatized from each other, but we both spilt like dams.”
“Sorry. I’m not super good with the… friends thing. Or the opening up thing.” He picks at a fray on his shirt. “You’re kinda my only friend. Ever.”
“Really? Why? You seem like a very cool and… awesome person.” She looks him up and down. “I understand not being someone's exact cup of tea, but someone must’ve liked you!”
“Daybreak liked me.”
Adaine’s mouth snaps shut.
Zayn continues on, either unaware or ignoring Adaine’s growing anger at the mention of Daybreak. “He would help pay for me and keep me away from my foster p-parents. He’d talk to me, a little. He never, like, sneered at me in the hallways.”
He sighs and ducks his head, unable to look Adaine in the eye when he said it — the traitorous words that were pouring out of him like a fountain he was unequipped to stop. Everything he was feeling inside was too big, too extreme for his body to take. Too awful and horrible and exhausting for Adaine to take and push through, like she did with the tears on her face, after hearing it.
“Sometimes I miss him.”
Adaine inhales sharply.
“Zayn, I… Zayn he didn’t want to help you,” she tries to steady her voice. “He was using you.”
“I know that. It was still better than what my foster parents did to me, than what the kids in the halls did to me.” He can’t cry, he’s a ghost, he had no moisture inside of him. Zayn would give anything to be able to cry, to go through the motions, to have even a small outlet to get the overwhelming feelings out.
His breathing starts to pick up pace. “I never really fit anywhere, not with the threat of my foster parents as my own personal breath of death constantly down my neck. Too dead to be alive, and now, too alive to be dead.”
“Zayn… You belong with us. At Mordred Manor.” Adaine holds her hand out to rest on his shoulder if he leaned into it. “You are a part of our family. It would be so different without you.”
“You wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t here. I live in the graveyard.”
Adaine stands up. “I absolutely would notice. You’re my best friend Zayn.”
“… The Bad Kids?”
“Are my adventuring party who also are my friends. I’m close with them, but I’ve also fought with them for our lives. You are just here. No ulterior motives. And I trust you. And you’re fun to be around.” She smiles softly at him.
“Are you being… legit?” He finally looks up at her.
Adaine steps closer to Zayn. “Yes.”
She holds her arm out for a hug, and he zooms into it, melting into her warmth and energy. They stay there for a second.
“That was the first hug I’ve gotten since Daybreak.”
Adaine swallows, sucking her cheeks in. “I’m going to change that, so that you have millions of hugs since that asshole ever touched you.”
Zayn lifts his head and looks up at the ceiling, blinking away invisible tears.
“Sometimes my emotions feel too big. Like they’re going to explode out of me and flood the room. And that by grabbing anybody offering me a hand I’ll just pull them into the mess and drown them while trying to stay afloat.”
She smiles softly at him, pulling away from their embrace for a second. “Then it’s a good thing I have Water Breathing prepared.”
Zayn’s grip on her tightens for a second (their hug expressing so many things that they couldn’t say between them), before he abruptly lets go. “Your turn. Why are you upset?”
Adaine stares at him for a moment, before a laugh bursts out of her: A loud, singleHa that sounds more like a choke than a laugh, the kind of sarcastic noise that her parents would hate to hear from her. “It’s so… Trivial after what was upsetting you!”
“Doesn’t make it less important.”
“I sincerely think it does.”
Zayn fully pulls away from her and crosses his arms. Refusing to budge from the issue.
“Fine! Fine.” She sinks into the chair and picks up the book. “Lydia recommended me this book and I just finished it.” She raises an eyebrow at him, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“It’s a good start, but that’s not what’s actually bugging you, is it?” He rests on the arm of her chair (if it were anyone else they would’ve gotten yelled at, lectured about how doing that ruins the fabric and the build of the furniture. But, because it was Zayn — and not just because he didn’t weigh anything — he got a free pass).
She sighs. “You know me too well Zayn. Have you been talking to Jawbone? A lot of what you’re saying sounds like Jawbone.”
“Hehe, not really. He still kind of scares me to be honest,” he rubs the back of his head awkwardly. “But you’re deflecting! Tell me what’s wrong with you!”
“You mean other than the panic attacks and general anxiety? I’d say, probably my killer humor is out of this world as well.”
“Adaine…”
“The book just made me sad. That’s all.” She doesn’t meet his eyes.
“What’s the book called?”
“Fantasy: The Perks of Being a Wallflower.”
Zayn jumps up, excited. “Dude! That was one of my favorite movies before, I didn’t know there was a book!”
“I didn’t know there was a movie…” She smiles softly at him. He doesn’t get excited like this very often, but when he does… it’s nice. “We should watch it together! Tonight?”
He tilts his head, suddenly cocky. “Sure… if you tell me what bugged you about it.”
“You’re insane! Do you never give up?”
“Nope! I’ve got all the time in the world!” He leans back, floating and relaxed in his ghosty state.
Adaine sits up, back straight and legs together. She laces her fingers together — a habit she learned from Jawbone when he saw her scratching her skin when she got nervous.
“You remember how you were saying how your thoughts felt too big?” She starts slowly, hoping he’ll piece things together as she says stuff. “I’ve always… I dunno… felt too big for my life. Like, my soul was designed for someone way bigger.”
She closes her eyes and looks at the ceiling. “Like you I guess. Too big to be an elf, too small to be worth it.”
The ceiling stretches in all directions around her. The patterns swirling. Pieces of the wood chipped and falling. It was overwhelmingly hugebut in a way that comforted her instead of scared her…
She flinches when she feels a cool hand touch hers. “Sorry…” Zayn looks at her sheepishly. “But, for the record, I think you’re perfect for who you are.”
Adaine feels her eyes flutter to keep the tears from falling. She doesn’t look from the ceiling.
“Sometimes… Sometimes… I don’t really know if I’ll ever feel infinite. Or maybe if I do, I’ll be too awkward in my body to be able to move in it.” She slides her body down the couch until she’s slumped on the ground.
Zayn sits cross-crossed next to her. “I get that…”
She turns to look at him. He’s not looking at her and his face is serene, just looking at the ceiling. His body is floating slightly away from itself and he has to keep manually pulling it together — every time it got too far he’d jump, and gather it all together.
She can’t believe that she once almost killed him. It’s insane how many people they had murdered that could’ve been friends. What would she do without Jawbone? Or Ragh? Or Hell, even Aelwyn? And, of course, Zayn.
How many other people could she have potentially been friends with? Definitely not Biz — her blood still boils thinking of him and Riz’s eyes flare up with anger at the mention of the creep, his fingers twitching to grab at his gun and shoot the nearest thing (the pent up energy begging to be released). Maybe some of Johnny Spells’ crew — surely all of them couldn’t have been bad.
Different lines in the wood of the ceiling led in different paths around the structure of the roof that leaked through where they had tried their best to finish up the shoddy build. Ayda had explained once the concept of different scenarios and different timelines and all of that. As the Oracle she hated to think about it, hated the headache that started to build at her temples when she pondered it too long.
The different trails… all leading back to the bones of the building… there was a metaphor there, if she wanted she could think about it and explain it all to Zayn, but…
“I think I feel infinite right now, Zayn.”
“I think you make me feel infinite.”
They clasp their hands together, staring at the swirling possibilities above them.