Chapter Text
Spending the day at Aunt Connie's was always boring, especially since she had no video games or cool toys to play with. Still, nine-year-old Ashley “Leyley” Graves made do, digging through the toy box Aunt Connie had left in the living room. Plastic toys, stuffed animals, and old dolls disappeared beneath her restless hands as she searched for something, anything, that might keep her entertained.
Dad was at work, while Mom spent the day in the kitchen with Aunt Connie, eating weird-looking cheese and drinking fruit juice that smelled like gasoline. The adults had their own idea of fun, apparently.
Her big brother Andy, two years older than her, sat cross-legged on the carpet nearby, completely absorbed in some stupid book. His green eyes moved steadily across the pages as he read about people called Habbits or something who were looking for the Gourd of the Onion Rings. Whatever that meant.
It sounded boring.
And besides, he should be paying attention to her, not the stupid Habbits!
Leyley rummaged through the toy box a little longer before finally finding something interesting. She pulled out a pair of pink bunny ears and immediately plopped the crooked headband onto her messy, close-cropped black hair. She turned toward Andy with a mischievous grin.
“Hey, Andy, look!” she said proudly, pointing at the ears.
“That's great,” he said, turning the page without looking up.
Leyley stared at him in disbelief.
“Andy, you didn't look!” she pouted, stomping her small foot against the carpet. “Look, you stupid jerk!”
Andy sighed and finally glanced up from his book. His eyes traveled from the bunny ears down to her face before he gave a small shrug.
“Rabbit ears. Cool,” he said flatly, returning his attention to his book. “Why are you wearing rabbit ears?”
“Because... I have a math test tomorrow,” she said, barely suppressing a smirk. Surely that was funny enough to make him laugh. Maybe he'd even put the stupid book down and pay attention to her.
Instead, Andy only frowned.
“...And how are bunny ears going to help you with your math test?”
“Because they multiply!” she said triumphantly, throwing her arms out to either side and flashing him a huge grin.
She waited.
Surely he was going to laugh. Instead, Andy rolled his green eyes.
“That's not what that means, butthead. Rabbits don't do math.”
“Yes, they do!” she huffed, planting one hand on her hip. “I saw it on one of those nature shows! Rabbits multiply.”
“That's not...” Andy stopped himself, then sighed and closed his book. He rubbed his eyes as though trying to summon the patience necessary to deal with his little sister. “That's not what that means, Leyley.”
Finally, he was paying attention to her. It wasn't exactly the kind of attention she'd wanted, but she'd take what she could get. Too bad he was still wrong about rabbits, though.
“Then what does it mean?” she asked, her voice taking on a challenging edge. “Huh? Did they teach you about rabbits in your stupid Habbits book?”
“It's Hobbits,” he corrected sternly. “And no. When they say rabbits multiply, they mean they have lots of babies. Dummy.”
“Whaaaaaat?” Leyley stared at him, her eyes widening. “How does math make you have babies?”
“No, math doesn't...” Andy's face tightened as he struggled to find the right words. He let out a frustrated grunt and rubbed his forehead. “Forget it. You're too little to understand. Your brain is too small.”
Leyley frowned.
She didn't like being told she was too little to understand. Especially when she was pretty sure she was right about the rabbits.
“My brain isn't small, Andy! Tell me, what does it mean?!”
Andy hesitated. He knew what it meant. Sort of. He just wasn't sure how to explain it without making things weird.
“It means... there are more of them.”
“More rabbits?”
“Yeah. More rabbits.”
“But you said they multiply.”
“They do.”
“So they do math?”
“No!” Andy groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, look. If you have one rabbit, and then that rabbit has babies, now you have more rabbits. That's multiplying.”
Leyley frowned, clearly unconvinced.
“So the rabbit makes the babies?”
“Yeah.”
“By doing math?”
“No!”
“Then how?”
Andy opened his mouth, then immediately closed it again.
That was a very good question.
“Well...” He looked down at his book, hoping the answer might somehow be written in there. “The rabbits just... make babies.”
“How?”
“I don't know!”
“You just said you knew!”
“I know what multiplying means! I don't know how rabbits do it!”
Leyley folded her arms, looking more confused than ever.
“So rabbits know how to make babies, but they don't know math?”
Andy stared at her.
“...Yes.”
Leyley nodded slowly, apparently satisfied with that explanation.
“Okay. That makes sense.”
Andy blinked. Somehow, he had a feeling it really didn't, but he wasn't going to argue. Satisfied, he returned to his book while Leyley ran her delicate fingers through the fake pink fur of the rabbit ears.
“I want to have babies someday,” she said, almost to herself.
“I’m sure whoever you marry will be happy to hear that,” he said dryly.
Leyley looked up at him, visible confusion spreading across her cherubic face.
“What are you talking about? You're the one who's going to marry me.”
Andy dropped his book in shock.
“FUCK!”
The book landed open on the carpet, and Andy immediately winced when he realized he'd forgotten to bookmark his page.
“Language!” Renee lazily yelled from the kitchen.
“What are you talking about?!” Andy demanded, his voice cracking with disbelief. “Are you nuts? We can't get married!”
“Why not?”
“Why not?!” He threw his hands up. “Because we're brother and sister, that's why not!”
Leyley only looked more confused, arching one curious eyebrow.
“I don't see why that's a problem.”
Andy gritted his teeth as he bent down to retrieve his book. The irritation he'd been trying to suppress was rapidly bubbling to the surface.
“It's absolutely a problem because it's wrong!”
“Wrong? Says who? Mom and Dad? They don't have to know. We can get married in secret, like behind a bush or something.”
“Behind a bush...” Andy stared at her. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
He reached over and poked her squarely in the center of the forehead.
“Brothers and sisters can't get married!”
“But why?”
“Because... because it's against the law!” he stammered.
He wasn't entirely sure if that was true, but it probably was. It seemed to shut Leyley up, at least. Her shoulders drooped slightly as she looked down at the rabbit ears in her lap.
“Oh...”
“Yeah, oh is right,” Andy huffed, rummaging through the pages of his book to find where he'd left off. “So get any ideas of us getting married or having babies out of your silly little head.”
Leyley was quiet for a moment, which was rare for her. She slowly ran her fingers over the soft pink fur of the rabbit ears, her usual mischievous expression nowhere to be seen.
The silence made Andy uncomfortable.
He could see the hurt on her face, and suddenly, his irritation didn't seem quite so justified anymore. He opened his mouth to say something, but every time he tried, it felt like a huge lump had formed in his throat, rendering him completely unable to speak.
Minutes that felt like hours passed.
Finally, he managed to work up the courage to say something.
“Hey, Leyley, listen, I—”
“Come on, freeloaders, we're leaving!”
Renee stormed out of the kitchen, with a visibly flustered Connie hurrying along behind her.
“Renee, wait, please! Can't we talk about th—”
“No!”
Renee spun on her heels and jammed a finger right in Connie's face. Her words were slightly slurred, and Leyley couldn't help but notice the strange way she was talking. It reminded her of that one time she'd gone to the dentist and couldn't properly feel her mouth afterward.
For a moment, Leyley wondered if Aunt Connie was a dentist.
“You listen and you listen good!” Renee snarled. “I've spent my whole life living in your shadow, feeling like I was never good enough! But you invited me over for your damn shark-coochery or whatever it's called, and you keep rubbing it in my face how much better than me you think you are!”
Connie's eyes widened.
“Well, guess what? You're not! You're not even worthy to change my pads every month!”
“I don't understand!” Connie protested, seemingly on the verge of tears. “All I said was that, if you wanted, Charles and I could take Andrew and Ashley to ToxiWorld next month because I know how much Ashley wants to visit WildCherry World.”
“Exactly my point!” Renee snapped.
She marched over to the children and grabbed them both by the armpits, hauling them to their feet.
“You just assume that Douglas and I couldn't afford to take our kids to ToxiWorld because we're poor white trash!”
“What?! Goodness, no! I would never!”
“Yes, you did, and I'm tired of it! You take your artisanal cheese, your fancy wine, and your ToxiWorld tickets and shove them where the sun don't shine!”
Renee turned toward the door, dragging her bewildered children along with her.
“Come on, kids. We're leaving!”
“Thanks for having us!” Leyley called, waving as Renee dragged her by the wrist toward the car. “I hope you find all the things where the sun isn't shining!”
The car ride home was tense, and even at nine years old, Leyley could tell.
Andy was supposed to be reading his Habbits book, but he hadn't turned a page since they'd left Aunt Connie's. Leyley knew he was a good reader, so she knew he wasn't actually reading. He was just staring at the same page, his eyes fixed on the words without really seeing them.
Mom, meanwhile, kept playing the same song over and over again.
She sang along loudly, even though she was crying, to some stupid song by a lady with a scratchy voice, like she'd had a sore throat for a really long time. The song was about landslides and growing older.
Leyley didn't understand what was so sad about either of those things.
Sliding on land sounded painful, sure, but what was wrong with growing older? Being a grown-up sounded amazing! You could stay up as late as you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, and nobody could tell you what to do.
So why was Sore-Throat Lady so sad about it?
Leyley stared out the window, watching the houses and trees pass by, her fingers absently brushing against the fur of the rabbit ears still resting in her lap.
“Hey, Leyley,” Andy said quietly.
She turned toward him.
“We still can't get married because we're brother and sister, but...” He hesitated, glancing down at his book. “Being married to you and having a whole bunch of babies... wouldn't be awful.”
Leyley blinked.
Andy shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“It'd definitely be a bit better than fighting the Balrog, I guess.”
“I would hope I'm better than the Ball-rug,” she said smugly. “I'm your sister!”
Andy snorted.
“But thanks, Andy,” she added, her voice softer. “That makes me feel better.”
“Anytime, Leyley.”
He smiled at her.
“Anytime.”
15 YEARS LATER
Ashley couldn't stop pacing around the apartment. Her stomach was tied in knots, and her heart felt like it was trying to pound its way out of her chest. Andrew would be home from work at the bookstore any minute, and when he arrived, she'd have to break the news to him.
How would he react?
What she had to tell him wasn't exactly expected, but it wasn't entirely unexpected, either. They knew the risks. They'd taken them anyway. Neither of them had expected it to happen quite so soon, though.
Her train of thought was interrupted by the click of the door unlocking. A moment later, a weary-looking Andrew stepped inside.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, tossing his car keys onto the nightstand by the door. “If one more menopausal soccer mom comes in asking for a copy of 60 Hues of Beige again, I swear to God, I'm going to Cobain myself with a twelve-gauge.”
He sighed and dropped onto the couch, finally noticing that Ashley had been staring at him the entire time.
“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself. “Is my fly down or something?”
“Hey, Andrew? I, uh... I have some news for you,” she said sheepishly.
“...Good news or bad news?” he asked suspiciously.
As much as he loved her, Andrew knew all too well the kind of chaos his sister-wife could get herself into if left unsupervised.
“Well...” Ashley fidgeted nervously. “That depends on how you want to look at it.”
Andrew slowly stood and stepped closer to her, suspicion evident in his emerald eyes.
“Ashley... what did you do?”
She said nothing.
“Does this have anything to do with the missing woman from down the block?”
“...Close your eyes.”
“What? Ashley, if this is a prank...”
“Please?”
There was something in her expression that made him stop. Her pink eyes were filled with such genuine nervousness that, despite every instinct telling him he was probably walking into some kind of trap, he felt compelled to trust her.
“Okay. Eyes are closed.”
He gently shut his eyes and heard the soft rustle of fabric.
“Okay,” Ashley said quietly. “You can open them now.”
Andrew opened his eyes.
Ashley stood before him wearing a pair of fuzzy pink rabbit ears. In her hands was a small plastic tube, its little display showing a bright blue plus sign.
Andrew's jaw dropped. For a moment, neither of them said anything.
“...The rabbits are multiplying,” Ashley said anxiously, watching his face for any hint of how he was going to react.
Andrew stared at her. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face.
He stepped forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her into a soft kiss on her forehead. Then her nose. Finally, her lips.
When he pulled back, his smile had grown even wider.
“I told you, butthead,” he teased playfully. “That's not what that word means.”