Chapter Text
Naught
I wait outside the hospital doors, standing ready next to the passenger car door. It’s cold, but nowhere near what it was back home. Shame that it won’t be a white Christmas though, but I’ll take low 40’s with wind over single digit temps. I hear the automatic doors open and look up.
“There’s the VIP.” I say with a smile.
“Only very?” She’s being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse. Apparently not using your legs for a couple weeks does that to a person, who knew? I open the car door before taking Fang’s hand to help her up. She's back in her own clothes, pajama bottoms, a band tee with one of my hoodies over it, and a pair of red vans. Heh, poser. I can’t see her wings as they approach.
“SMUIPTIL doesn't roll off the tongue quite the same.” I say as she sits down. I gently close the door, thank the nurse, and climb in the driver seat. As I pull away from the door and towards the main road, Fang speaks up.
“Can we stop and get a burger?”
“On Christmas Eve? When your mom is currently fixing up a feast for you?”
“I need to pregame the good food with the trashiest, most greasy burger I can get my hands on. You know, to balance the scales again after so much hospital food.”
“If a burger’s what you want, what am I to deny it. You have a place in mind?”
“Not really. Just drive until we find something that’s open.” I buckle up and drive off. The parking lot is empty as we drive pass, the only cars being from the employees inside. The busy roads are also not so busy with everyone home celebrating the holidays. I look over to Fang, who is silently looking out the window. I slip a hand into hers and squeeze. We’ll be home soon, Rockstar.
I pull into the drive thru of the first open fast food joint we find. Bless the poor Micky D’s workers that have to work today. Fang looks at the menu with an intense hunger I haven’t seen from her before. I think she’s drooling. She orders two triples, but only after I talked her down from three. I pull up, pay, grab her food, and make my way back to the Aaron’s. She swipes the bag from my lap before I can even begin to hand it to her. Carnivore’s man.
The ride doesn’t take long. We hit every green light, avoid all traffic, and have a smooth ride the entire time. I park in my usual spot on the curb, Fang hiding the evidence of her “crime” with one last swallow of food. I’m first out of the car. Opening her door, I offer her a hand and pull her up to their feet.
“I can walk on my own, you know.”
“I know, but it gives me an excuse to hold your hand.” Her cheeks grow red as she gives me a playful slap.
“Damn sap.” I let a small smirk come to my face as I open the front door.
I shouldn’t be so surprised with the state of the house. A large, fully decorated tree with a star on top and a huge pile of presents underneath sits in the corner of the living room. Lights lined the gutters outside, they lined the edges of the living room inside, a little manger set sits on the coffee table, and right above us is a single bit of mistle toe. I spot Ripley in the corner, eyeing me and my next move. I hold my stare for a second before leaning down and surprising Fang with a kiss, one she pushes away from.
“Not in front of him, dumbass.” Her face is flush red as she scolds me, but I pull her back into a soft hug
“Merry Christmas, Fang. Welcome home.” She melts into my arms, leaning her head against my chest. She responds with a whisper.
“Thanks. Merry Christmas.” I release the hug and guide her by the hands onto the couch, treating her with all the respect she deserves and more. When I try to walk away, she hugs on my arm.
“Stay.” Her voice is weaker than anytime she spoke in the hospital. She looks up at me with puppy dog eyes. “Please? I don't want to be alone.”
“I'll just be in the kitchen. You can holler if you need me.”
“Al-alright.” She shrinks away, bringing her legs to her chest.
“Hey.” She looks back up at me, her head sitting between her knees. “I'll still love you from wherever.” She silently nods her head. “Like I said, I'll be in the kitchen. Your dad is right there, and everyone else is just a shout away.” She opens up a bit, raising her head off her knees. After waiting a second to make sure she’s okay, I go to the kitchen.
Sam and Clara are so focused on working away at a variety of dishes, that neither of them notice me.
“Didn't realize you were such a housewife, Clara.”
“Shut it. I can still kick your ass.” I smile as she falls into my trap.
“Language dear.” Sam says, not looking away from the stove.
“He's my brother, we talk like that all the time.”
“Not in my house you won't.”
“You better listen to her.” I then mouth “shit for brains” to Clara.
“That goes for you too sweetheart. You know better.” How in the world did she know? Ptero women are scary.
“Sorry ma'am…anyway, what are y'all cooking up?”
“A large roast, some ham, sausage, deviled eggs, mashed potatoes, and some other greens for you two. Do you like squash and cream corn?”
“I do Sam, thank you.”
“Your welcome, dear. Anything else you need?”
“A drink would be good.”
“Feel free to look through the fridge, and please go see if anyone else wants anything.”
I pop my head back into the living room. Ripley is flipping through the channels on the TV, occasionally sneaking glances at his daughter. Fang doesn't seem to notice though as she stares straight ahead at the TV.
“Can I get y'all anything to drink?”
“A beer. They're on the bottom shelf.”
“Fang?”
“Just a soda.”
“I'll be right back with those.”
I return to the kitchen and begin my raid of the fridge. I grab myself some apple juice, the coke for Fang, and the beer for Ripley. I’m not gonna stop him from drinking what he wants, especially in his own house, but alcohol on Christmas before noon is crazy. I return to the living room, sliding out of the way as Sam and my sister move to and fro in the kitchen.
Back in the living room, Ripley has settled on watching the news. I passed him his beer without a word. I try to do the same with Fang’s soda, but when she just looks at it as I hold it in front of her, I place it on the table instead. I finally take my seat on the couch next to Fang. She scooches up close, leaning her head against me. I wrap my arm around her and feel as her tension slowly leaves. As we sit there together, I run my hand through her short hair.
“Your hair is growing well.”
“I feel weird without it, and it looks bad.”
“It’s fitting. You never exactly were girlish. Besides, I think you look rather cute with it.”
She grunts a nonconfirmative response. Her mood worries me. She was emotional when I visited the hospital for the first time, and it continued here or there for another week or so, but then it died out and became a flat, consistent sadness. Somedays there wouldn’t even be emotion in her voice…is that depression? It’s understandable if it is.
“It’ll get better, and I’ll wait alongside you until it does.”
“Quiet down. I want to hear this.” Ripley tells us, turning up the television a few clicks. It’s some sort of local special segment on major happenings in the city. A light yellow, long-necked saurian woman is shown sitting alone at the main table for a moment before speaking.
“Hello, I am Rebecca Ann, and tonight on About The Bluffs we look at the rising criminal violence within the city and what the police have to say on the matter.” Really? On Christmas Eve? “Over the past couple months death from organized crime has been on the up, but that spiked even greater this month with what can only be called planned attacks between warring factions in the underbelly of our city. After two weeks of questions aimed towards our cities law enforcement and pressure from the mayor, Commissioner Ripley Aaron held a conference to answer our burning questions. We will now direct you to a brief recording featuring only the most important questions.”
The screen fades to black before showing an empty stage with a menagerie of well dressed dinos. Moments later, Ripley comes into the room with several officers following behind him. He’s sporting his usual getup while the officers are in proper non-patrol uniform. The moment he’s seen, the crowd erupts into questions, all being ignored until he reaches the podium.
“Quiet down! Quiet down! We’re about to begin.” Ripley watches his past self with an intense stare as he keeps talking. “Now to address the need for this conference, we as a department have not been honest with you. While we had our reasons, we do not believe those reasons outweigh our relationship to the public, to the law-abiding citizens that we are sworn to protect, and to those very same souls that trust their safety in our hands. We betrayed that trust. So today we will be transparent , or as transparent as we can be within legality and case details.”
A reporter pops up as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. “Who is responsible for these recent attacks?”
“What we know is that this is a inter-gang conflict. We do not know one of the sides involved and we do not know the motive. The side that we do will remain unnamed for the sanctity of the case.”
A different report jumps in. “Is it true that there’s only one suspect carrying out these murders?”
“For one of them, yes. The rest have no concrete evidence.”
Again, a new reporter. “Is it true that your daughter is currently in the hospital for a gang related attack?” Fang flicks her head to the TV in surprise. I also see Ripley brow furrow slightly.
“That information is private, protected by law, unrelated to the case, and did not occur in my jurisdiction.”
“So it’s tr-”
“Next question.”
“Rumor’s say that these killings are inspired by a video game. Can you confirm the-” That’s the question that lights the fire. The media certainly hates gaming. Question after question is hurled in the chaos, but none can be made out. After several attempts to regain control of the room, Ripley walks off stage. The camera and reporters try to follow but the officers keep them back. The screen fades to black and back to the host.
“While that was the official end of the public conference, one of our reports managed to ask a final one on one question. We’ll play that voice recording for you right now.” The screen changes to a text box, subbing the conversation.
“Commissioner? Commissioner?”
“This better be a good question.” His voice sounds frustrated.
“How do you plan on combating the warring gangs?”
“I will be authorizing our specialist SWAT unit, Dino Platoon, for active duty starting tonight. They will curb these gangs where we have failed.” The screen returns to the host.
“That is all we have for tonight. Stay safe out there and Merry Christmas.”
Ripley changes the station with a grunt, flipping through station after station.
“What a bunch of vultures, am I right?”
“Yes kid you are.”
“Dad, how’d those assholes find out about me?”
“We’re still investigating that. Didn’t want to start until you were out.”
“Fuckin…” Fang goes back to leaning into my chest, grumbling under her breath. We sat there watching TV for a while. Clara joins, and once everything is cooking, Sam joins us as well. Naser is missing, but apparently he’s gone to see Naomi, that prick, and will be back before dinner. When it gets later in the day and the temperature drops as the sky turns purple, we put on a Christmas movie. What else other than the best Christmas movie ever, The Santa Clause. We ignore the sequels.
We have to stop early, but it's to eat some of Sam's amazing food so everyone’s more than fine with it. Fang is unusually clingy as we sit down at the dining table. I won’t deny I like cuddling with my girlfriend, but for the short time that I’ve known her she’s always been pretty independent, hard headedly so. My first day ended with her literally yelling at half, if not more, of the school as they insulted her passion.
I keep my thoughts to myself for the time being. It’s Christmas, the Aaron’s were kind enough to invite us over, fix dinner, and let us stay the night, I’m not ruining that. Food is placed down and, as if summoned by the smell, Naser walks through the door. He rushes to take off his winter clothes while apologizing for running late and sits opposite of me. Sam and Ripley are at the heads, Clara sits next to Naser, and Fang and I sit together on the other side. Just as the final plate hits the table, before anyone can jump in and revenge the food, Sam stops everyone with a THAT mom voice.
“Grace.”
We all look around guiltily before taking each other’s hands and bowing our heads. It's quick but heavy. I felt Fang twitch at her hospital stay being mentioned. When it's done, we all look up at Sam with the same questioning look. She gives us the nod, and much to Clara’s surprise, everyone digs in. That's right little lady, ptero’s eat like no other.
Once plates are filled and the feeding frenzy dies down, the small talk begins. I catch Sam up on what's been happening regarding enrolling Clara, which got Clara and Naser talking about the track team. I try to chat Ripley up about what was in the news earlier, but he waved me off so I shift the conversation to sports. I mention I'd be interested in going golfing with him sometime. He mentioned how he was thinking about taking me on the weekly bowling trip.
Later I tried talking with Fang, thinking up practice sessions and the first performance of the new year. I was also trying to distract her, try and get her excited again for playing, but it didn't work. She'd give single word answers and go back to eating. The only thing that brought a small smile to her was when I held her hand under the table.
Dinner is done when Clara takes one last slow bite off her plate. I, being the guest, decide I'll be cleaning up, but not before dragging Naser into it. We gather up the dishes and head into the kitchen, leaving the rest to do as they please.
“Why’d you have to pull me into this?” He asks, setting a stack of plates down. I grab one and begin scrubbing.
“One, because I didn't want to do this all on my own. Two, because I wanted to talk with you about Naomi.”
“Can we not? It's Christmas Eve.”
“I just want to talk to her, and depending on her answers, I might not want her to be punished.”
“Wait what?”
“She’s smart, Naser, but that also means she has a great capacity for being stupid. If anything, I just want to chew her out for being a manipulative dick. She still owes me an apology from months ago.”
“You're still on that?”
“Yes I'm still on it. She knew I was retarded. She looked at my school file and tried to set me up with Fang. She has been nothing but a manipulating fake bitch since I met her.” I have to calm myself down before I break a plate.
“Oh…yeeeaaah, I can't really blame you then.”
“Listen, I want to get it done that first day of school. Can you help me with that ‘cause she's just gonna keep avoiding me like she has been.”
“What's the plan?”
“Ger her somewhere private then text me.”
“Cool, only have to think about it for two weeks.” He picks up the last plate and dries it off, placing it to the side when he's done.
“Don’t dwell on it. If she had good reasons, it'll go…better. Now come on, it sounds like they're starting the movie back.” We make our way to the living room and take our seats. Fang snuggles back up with me while Naser takes the last open spot on the couch. The credits roll and everyone decides to hit the hay. I let Clara have the guest room while I sleep on the couch. Fang wanted me to sleep with her, but I prefer not joining the trophies on the wall.
As everyone left for bed, starting with Ripley, then Sam, then Naser and Clara, we continued watching TV as the night went on. We switched to adult cartoons once everyone else was gone. The noise of that bastard gray alien acts more as filler noise than something to watch, especially for Fang.
We turned the lights off an hour ago, letting the warm glow of the Christmas tree take over the room. I can’t help but be amazed as I take glances at Fang, seeing all the small lights reflect in their amber eyes…but the art betrays the artist. There's a lingering emotion behind them, one filled with sadness, anxiety, and anger. Even further, there's deep thought happening, but what it is I don't know.
I don't intrude on it, instead letting them sit there next to me, leaning into my arms, as I stroke that spot between their wings. Eventually though, I do get tired.
“I think it's time we head to bed. If we don't, Santa Claws won't come.”
“Another hour?” She pleads quietly.
“In another hour it'll be Christmas day.”
“I don't want to sleep alone, Bigfoot.”
“I want to sleep with you too, but last time he didn’t know and this time we can't exactly hide it.” She sits up enough to turn around and look up at me with narrow eyes. She then wraps her arms around me and, before I can return what I thought was a hug, she pulls me down with her. We fall across the couch taking up what little space there is.
“There. Now you aren’t sleeping with me, I'm sleeping with you.” She then flips over, tucking her wings against her back, and presses herself into me. Her tail is against my stomach and her butt is dangerclose, but you know what? If I die at least I'll die happy. She reaches back, grabbing my hand, and pulls my arm around her torso so I'm holding her.
“What if I wanted to be little spoon?”
“You're not even big spoon, you're the damn bowl.”
“And the bowl barely fits on this couch.”
“Oh shut it.” There’s a bit of that spark back, “Just cuddle me and keep me warm.”
A smirk comes to my face. “Yes ma'am.” I close my eyes and pull her in close, getting a small “eep” out of her before she relaxes. The last thing I remember before I fall asleep are the beautiful Christmas lights, those amber eyes, and how Backfield Mile would go all out decorating the small town center.
…
…
…
What wakes me isn't noise or someone lightly shaking me awake, it's a primal fear telling me to run. Opening my eyes reveals a very displeased Ripley standing just outside the living room staring me down with his arms crossed. I realize my hands are still very much on his daughter so I let go and awkwardly smile before working my way out of Fang's damn near strangle hold she has on me.
“It was her idea.” I whisper. Before he can respond and start tearing me limb from limb, Sam appears from behind him to save my ass.
“Leave him alone dear, it’s Christmas. Besides, they were cute all snuggled up together.”
He narrows his eyes at me, then lets out a defeated huff. “Merry Christmas Naught.” His arms fall to his side as he walks into the kitchen. I let out a silent sigh of relief as I sit down on the loveseat.
A few minutes later a very tired Naser comes down the stairs. He's in the most casual clothes I've seen him in, that being a white tee shirt with some sort of graphic on it and red pajama bottoms. He walks past and to the kitchen, stretching and yawning all the way. It's when I hear the trademark sizzling of an Aaron breakfast that I decided to go join them.
Call me surprised when I saw Ripley cooking instead of Sam. He was really going at it too. Sam was sitting at the counter nursing a cup of Joe while Naser used his arms like a pillow next to her. If he wasn't nodding along and mumbling an answer every so often, I'd say he was asleep. He may not show it as extremely as Fang, but Naser is not a morning person either.
I slip in next to Sam, leaning against the counter as I stand next to her. Even on those high stools, I've got at least a foot and a half on her. “Need me to wake up the girls?”
“If you'd please. Breakfast is almost done, and right after we'll get to presents.”
“Alright. Which room is Clara in? I want to get her first.”
“First door on the left.”
I push off the counter and leave with a nod. Upstairs, I lightly knock on the door with my knuckle…and no response. I try again, knocking with my whole hand this time. I hear what sounds like a snort followed by loud snoring. Son of a-...guess we’re doing this the hard way. I open the door and peer in, smiling when I see my target. I tip toe next to the bed, carefully taking one of the unused pillows, raise it up, and bring it back down right across her chest.
“OOUH!” Her eyes jolt open and look around the room before landing on me. “...You ass.”
“Wake up Ms. Itty bitty titty committee, breakfast is almost ready and presents will be right after.”
“You could've just shook me.”
“I could've. Now seriously, get down stairs in the next five minutes. If I have to come back up here I'm dragging you by the legs.”
“Alright geez. Give me a minute.” I smile in victory and head back downstairs. One down, one more to go. Walking into the living room I still see her on the couch. She's on her back now, one arm over her stomach, the other hanging off the front of the couch. Her beak is open, tongue flopped out to the side with a light snore coming out. I can barely see her wings as she lays on them. She looks peaceful.
I put a hand on her shoulder and shake her awake. “Aaaaangel.”
She turns over, lightly swatting me away. “Mmmmh.”
“It’s time to get u-” A scaled finger is pushed against my lips.
“Five more minutes.”
“Five more minutes and there won't be any breakfast left.”
She opens up an eye and looks at me, then groans. “Fiiiine.” She grabs my hand and I pull her up.
“How was sleeping in your own home again?”
“It was nice,” she stands up and throws her arms around my neck, looking up at me with her chin on my chest, “especially with my own personal heater.”
“Do I make that much of a difference?” I ask with a laugh.
Fang quiets down to below a whisper. “It's cold without my feathers.”
“If that's the case, then I don't mind being your heater.” I plant a kiss on her forehead. “Now let's go eat. I'm curious if the mister can keep up with the misses in the kitchen.” Hearing that seemed to wake her up.
“Oh shit that's right. It's Christmas so dad's cooking.”
As we walk to the kitchen, Clara makes her appearance and joins us. Looks like everyone is just in time too, plates are being served and seats at the table are being taken. We say a quick prayer and start eating. For once, the carnivores present showed restraint in their total devastation of their plates. It brings a silent smile to me as I take my first bite and…oh my god how is it even better than Sam's?
“I wasn't expecting this to live up to Sam's cooking, Ripley, but I'm sorry I ever thought that ‘cause this is good.”
“Thanks.”
Everyone continues eating as stories of the past are shared. Clara tells tales of sledding. Sam spills embarrassing secrets about their kids. Heh, pirate princess, at least I pretended to be something cool like a jedi. Naser could hardly stop laughing long enough to get his out. Something about a casserole, I think? It was all pretty normal, and feeling normal is what I need right now.
With breakfast done, we move back to the living room, not bothering to clean the dishes yet. As we sit down and Ripley begins handing out the first round of presents, I feel a buzz in my pocket. I pull out my phone and freeze looking at the notification. For some fucking reason I click on it.
Momma Betty: I'm sorry about everything. I haven't been a good mom. I miss you two. I cleaned the house. It took a week and the smell still lingers, but it's clean. I cut off everything. All of it gone. It's not been pleasant. I feel like crap even now, but if it means I can see you again I'll deal with it. I didn't mean what I said about your dad. What you said was true. I hope you have a Merry Christmas. Please call me, I'd love to hear your voice again.
Naught: I told you not to contact us
I'm brought back to the present moment when Fang puts a head on my arm. She's been sitting next to me the whole time, she probably read it. She has a worried look in her eye. I look back at my phone screen and send another text.
Naught: but I'll think about it
Before I can get a response, I turn it off and put it in my pocket just in time to get my first present. I'd been happy with a card and a smile, especially with how last minute it was that we were attending, but both Clara and me got a couple small things, and well, she got one big thing from me, but that's being saved for last.
Looking at my present, I'm surprised to see it's from Ripley. It's in a small gift that's empty all but a single piece of paper. I reach in and pull it out.
“Volcaldera Leisure Fields?” I ask.
Ripley speaks up. “That right there is a year pass to the club I go to. You mentioned you knew how to swing so I thought we'd go in a few weeks when it warms up.”
“Sounds fun. Never got the chance to actually play. Thanks Ripley.” He holds up a hand and nods before going on to the next round of presents.
Things sped up as time went on, or it felt that way. Clara got some nice shampoo from Sam. Naser got me a god awful jacket that I'm pretty sure is racist, but between him getting chastised by his mother and me laughing my ass off, I didn't care. Ripley got a new drill bit set from Naser and Fang, but from how surprised she was from hearing that she had no idea either. Sam got an equal parts fragile and beautiful looking tea set from her husband. Naser got a new pair of running shoes from Fang, and she got me a couple games for cheap. Before Ripley grabs the second to last gift, I jump up and stop him.
“Let me give this one out. It's for Clara.” I tell him in a hushed tone. He shrugged and let me do my thing. I pick it up, walk over to Clara, and hand it over. It's a rather big box that's way too light, but I think she'll like what's inside.
“From Dumb, to Dumber.” She reads unamused. She cooks an eyebrow at me as I sit back down. She rips open the wrapping and opens the box, revealing the single envelope inside and giving everyone a good chuckle. She rolls her eyes, picks it up, and opens it.
“Make sure you read it out loud.”
“Clara, you are sixteen and I'm tired of hauling you around. Go get your driver's license nerd…really?”
“Keep reading.”
“It's just a bank statement below that.”
“And what does it say?
After a second of looking, her eyes widened. “Clara’s Car Fund…15,000 dollars.” The room goes silent as eyes go from her to me.
“When you get your license, that money will be for purchasing yourself a car.” She drops the statement and tackles me with a hug, hitting me in my chest and knocking the wind out of me. Damn bruise.
“THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!” She squeals. “ILOVEYOUSOOOOOOOOOMUCH!”
“L-love you too, redhead, but we still have one more present.”
“Sorry, sorry. Thank you, Bubba.” I smile and ruffle her hair, causing her to let go and retreat to her seat.
The last gift is handed to Fang. It's small, fitting in her lap, and from her parents. I sit there next to her, arm over her shoulder as she takes a claw and cuts away the wrapping. Beneath that is a generic looking gift box, which she slowly opens. I suddenly feel her tense up as we see what it is. She grabs it with a shaky hand and lifts it out of the box.
She stares at the gorgeous looking brush. It has to be old as it's made out of ivory, still shining bright. There's a small gemstone pattern on the back. I feel Fang's wings twitch hard, jabbing me in the side. The bristles look soft to the touch, being densely packed. It's not like any hair brush I've seen. Perhaps it for her win-
I catch a look at her face. Her eyes are pinpricks, she's hyperventilating, and it looks like she's seen a ghost. “You good, Ange-”
The brush is dropped and Fang goes scrambling back and over the couch. Naser and I both miss her as she falls to the floor. Everyone stands up to get to her, but before anyone can, she dashes past Sam and towards the stairs. I'm the first to follow, staying close behind with my long stride. We make it up the stairs and down the hall, and I almost make it into her room with her, but the door is slammed in my face and locked before I can open it.
“Fang?” I lightly tap on the door. “Fang? You okay? Can I come in?” I get no response as I watch the rest of the house catch up.
“Lu-Fang, are you okay, dear?”
I feel a cold breeze coming from under the door.
“Let your brother in, Fang. We can have some sibling one on one.”
She complained about it being cold, even went and changed yesterday.
“I know we haven't got along well, but let me in. I'm worried about my child.”
“STOP! STOP CALLING ME THAT! STOP THAT CONFUSING BULLSHIT!” The sound of effort and crashing comes from behind the door.
I saw it for a split second. The window is open. The window is open! I run back down the hallway, practically jumping down the stairs.
“Naught? Naught?! Where are you going?!” Naser asks, following behind me. I make for the front door and head out onto the front lawn. Turning around at the curb, I see Naser shivering at the door. “What the hell are you doing?”
I point up at the open windows, a crash echoing out from it. “I'm helping my girlfriend.”
“What are abou-” I answered his question with action. Running at the house, I jump up, planting my foot on a first floor window seal, and push off from there, grabbing onto the open window. As I pull myself up, I can help but think of how quiet it went. I get to where I can throw one leg in and squeeze through.
Inside, I'm stunned at the sight. Desks were swept clean of their stuff, pictures are ripped off the wall, what Fang told me was the non-binary flag sits slashed in the floor, the dresser is tipped over, mirror smashed, and Fang sits among all of it on the end of her bed, gripping her shoulders, holding on for dear life. It's when I see her claws digging in that I bolt to her, sitting on my knees.
“Hey, I'm here. You're fine.” She doesn't look up. I try to take her hands in mine and away from hurting herself, but she resists. Sorry Fang. I put real strength into it this time, grabbing her by the wrists and holding them against her sides. Her breathing slows just a little as her amber eyes flick up to look acknowledge me. “You're fine. Whatever it is, I'm here with you.” Tears well up in her eyes as she falls into my shoulder and wails.
“T-those bastards to-ok them. They took my wings. They took m-me. I want them dead. I-I want to pull the trigger. It was supposed to be fun. Get that bullshit presentation behind. It was just one thing after another.” She pulls away, sniffling. “How are you fine with it all? You should be the one yelling, screaming, and crying.”
“I'm not fine with it. I'm not fine with what I did. I haven't been since that rex. I don't know where I want to go. I don't know what I should do. I regret what I did. I killed them, Fang, to get to you.”
“You did?”
“Not one of them in Backfield will ever touch you again. If I have to live with that to know you're safe, I'll endure.”
She leans back in, head on my chest. “You saved me.” I stroke her back, avoiding further talk about it. After some time snuggling and calming down, she starts talking again.
“I'm done with the enbie crap. Just call me a her.” There’s thick venom in her words.
“I stopped a long time ago when you didn't seem to mind.”
“It made me feel nice when you'd say it. Now it makes me sick hearing it from everyone else.”
“Is that what the screaming was about?” She nods against my chest. “Well if that's what you want, I'll support it.”
We remained embraced on the floor, rocking back and forth until she was ready. I let everyone know everything was relatively okay. It took Fang saying something to make Ripley believe it, or at least relent for the time being. It was around noon when we spoke again.
“Say, what do you say we pick up your room a little then head out for a bit. Get a chance to clear your head. We can go looking at Christmas lights in my car.”
“I…I like the sound of that.”