A/N: Hey guys! So this is just a one-shot, and oddly enough it's not as OC based as you would think. This story is more about Eight's struggle with the idea of destiny, and some pointless Navrina fluff. Anyway… if you're wondering, the kids don't actually have names, it's up for interpretation. And I also never imagined a mother for Nine's daughter, so it's up to you who you want it to be (Because I know everyone has different ideas). Anyway, enjoy!

This song is brought to you in part by Definition of Destiny by Billy Talent.


Americans had a really different way of dealing with boredom. During my stay at the convent, if we were bored we did chores or were shooed outside to romp around in the streets. We had to keep ourselves busy; no one offered us arts and crafts sessions or skating lessons.

Eight would tell me about all the things that he would do to keep busy while living in India. He would push a hoop around with a stick in his front yard as a kid. When he was on his own there were a lot less options, so he would pick berries or play with the animals or do whatever he could to keep his mind off the edge on insanity.

But Americans, I quickly realized, didn't find things to do like we did. Americans, like Nine, sat in front of the TV and let their brains rot, or played video games and let their brains rot, or went on social media and let their brains rot.

Well, not so much the last one for us, but you get the idea.

Eight and I were initially against all this American stuff, but we eventually decided that to adopt this culture and better blend it, we had better start acting like Americans.

So with Ella safely tucked away in her bed and me, Nine and Eight thoroughly exhausted from our previous training session, we sat in front of the TV. And let our brains rot.

"Huh," Nine snorts at the TV as he stops his incessant channel flipping to pause on the Space channel. I'm not really sure what it is we're supposed to be watching, but I'm not exactly picky when it comes to our TV choices. There's a man in a space suit prodding at some fleshy looking thing or something. I'm barely paying attention anymore, my focus more on Eight as he plays with my hair absentmindedly as he watches the screen.

Over the past few weeks me and Eight have gotten really… close, to put it in one word. Well, I guess I would call it a lot more than just close. It was… intimate. In fact, earlier that day he'd taken me out on a walk in the park and he gave me—

The man on the screen starts screaming as something launches itself at his face, and I jump out of shock, prompting Eight to release my hair. I place a hand over my heart, breathing out heavily. "What is this?"

"Aliens." Nine points at the TV with the remote in his hand. "Can you believe that's what these humans actually think we look like?" He scoffs. "They're so stupid."

Eight pulls my hand from my chest and comfortingly intertwines his fingers with mine. "I don't think Sarah would like to hear you say that." He says to Nine.

"Well, she did insist on going to Arkansas with John and Six."

"You're still not over that?" I sigh.

"Not until they come back all in one piece with Five, no."

Eight rolls his eyes and makes a face, and I laugh at his expression. He smiles back and kisses my fingers, and I can't help but blush.

"You guys are disgusting." Nine drones, returning to his task of flipping channels. His eyebrows are knit together and I can tell he's more than just a little bit annoyed. "Like, why don't you two just get a—!"

His sentence is immediately slashed in half as, quite like Eight's teleporting ability, two people literally drop out of thin air probably a few feet in front of us. They land on the ground in a bundle of arms and legs and tumble behind the coffee table.

We're all frozen in place as a girl, probably a little younger than me, lifts her head up and glares down towards her companion. "What the hell, Ro—oh shit." She seems to finally notice us, her blue eyes widening considerably. She's no one I've ever seen, with a button nose and black, spikey hair tied up in a ponytail.

A boy, probably close to her age, pops up next to her, rubbing his head and messing up his curly brown hair even further. "Sorry," He says to her. "I think I may have—"

"R," She interrupts, holding a hand in front of her face. "just shut up for a second."

He follows her astonished stare and sees us too. He considerably pales.

Nine is on his feet. He holds out a clasped hand and his staff extends from both sides, filling the empty space between him and the pair behind the coffee table. He's still got the converted clutched in his other hand. "Speak." He commands.

No one moves.

"Can I just say something?" The boy holds up his hands in front of his face when Nine reacts by aiming his weapon towards his face. He cringes back but slowly starts to talk again. "Just um… Can everyone stop freaking out because the tension coming from that guy—" He motions towards Nine. "—alone is giving me a migraine."

"What?" Eight sounds as confused as I felt. What did he mean by that?

He turns to Eight to respond, but before he can he looks back over at Nine. "Wait, dude, you don't want to do that—"

As if the boy can read Nine's mind, less than a second later Nine twirls his staff and brings it around towards the girl's head at super-speeds. I jump back, thinking this will be her quick end, but she reacts fast.

She brings her forearm up to meet his attack, and for a second I think I see a flash of blue light before Nine's staff goes flying out of his hands and spinning across the room. Nine staggers back, clearly shocked, and Eight gets to his feet beside me.

The girls lifts her arms in the air and I'm sure now I see that blue light reappear, but this time it spreads from her hands and forms a tinted blue dome separating her, the boy and our coffee table from the rest of the room.

"You have Legacies," I breathe. The girl smiles at me devilishly as she lowers her arms. She glances over her shoulder at the boy and raises her eyebrows.

"Aw, come on! You know I can't read minds through force fields." The boy whines.

"But how?" Nine growls, banging his fist against the force field. His hand bounces back.

The girl ignores both of their comments. "R, let's get out of here. Can you wipe their minds or something?"

"Hey!" Nine yells, pounding both fists this time. "I'm talking to you!"

The boy scratches his head. "Yea, but it's complicated. I don't want to do any damage and have—"

"I said I'm talking to you!" I can hear the frustration climbing in Nine's voice. "Get out of your little shield and fight, coward!" He snarls, pointing his finger at the girl.

"No, no, don't do that!" R warns out of nowhere, but I can see something blow up in the girl's eyes and she turns back to Nine, biting her lip as if to control her mouth.

"The reason you don't know us—"She growls.

"Stop talking—!" he warns again.

"is because we're—"

"I don't want to get into any trouble!"

"—from the future Lorien." She raises her chin, a look of superiority plastered across her face. A smug smile takes over her mouth. "You three will become the part of the new elders." She adds in at the end.

R raises a hand in the air. "Heh. My bad, time travelling mishap!"

"We get back to Lorien?" We almost all say at the same time. Well, pretty much, Nine's version involved a lot more swear words.

"Why do you guys sound so surprised?"

I'm stunned. These people were from the future of Lorien? Was that even possible? I mean, I always knew that we were fighting to bring back Lorien, but… I never imaged that we'd actually make it there. But now…

Eight turns and smiles at me. "We're going to get to go home." He whispers.

"I guess so," I squeeze his hand.

Nine drops himself onto the carpet, not looking half as satisfied as I felt. "That doesn't make any sense." He mutters.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

Nine shrugs, but I see him quickly look up to catch my eyes before shyly looking back down at the carpet. It's not something he normally does. "I mean that… I, uhm…" He's struggling for words.

"Just spit it out!" The girl yells.

"I mean that I don't intend to ever go back to Lorien!" Nine shouts back, clearly annoyed by this girl.

I glare over at Nine. "What do you mean you don't intend to come back?"

"I just…" He rubs his eyes. "I've been killing shit for my entire life; it's all I think about. What am I supposed to do when this stupid war is over, plant flowers in my window box? I'd rather just… go down fighting than spend the rest of my life without a purpose."

"Nine, you shouldn't… you can't think that way." Eight says. "Fear of the future can't rule your life."

I nod in agreement. So many times has Eight expressed to me how scared he was of whatever had to come, and I knew that it was something really hard for him to get over. Heck, I still didn't think he was over it. But we had found a way to move past all of that together, and I was really proud of him for it. He knew it wasn't right to be reckless with your life.

Nine sighs and hangs his head. "I don't know anymore…"

"Wow," The girl spits. "That's pretty weak, dad."

Nine's head snaps back up. R slips back and bangs his head against the coffee table. I think my heart may have just stopped beating.

"What did you just call me?"

The girl just turns to R and quirks an eyebrow. He sighs and hit his head again, this time on purpose.

"We may have lied just a little bit…" He begins, mumbling into the wood. "We're also kind of your kids from the future."

The girl laughs and points at me and Eight. "But don't worry, that one is all you."

The teenage boy sitting on the floor smiles sheepishly, waving from his side of the force field. "Hey, mom, dad. In like, twenty years please don't ground me for this, okay?" Suddenly I'm making the connection. The curly brown hair, the bashful green eyes… I look at Eight. No… no way.

"WHAT?" Nine yells, throwing the remote across the room. "You're lying!"

I feel like my stomach is doing cartwheels. I've seen my fair share of blood, death and general PTSD causing things in my life, but this… I couldn't even wrap my head around it. My kid. Not just my kid, but maybe Eight's kid too. I lean back into the couch, resting my head on the back rest.

The girl shrugs. "You don't think I look like you? Everyone says I look just like you."

Eight collapses onto the couch beside me. I suddenly notice the startling cold in my hand and realize his hand is squeezing my fingers purple.

"Eight," I say, putting my other hand over his. He looks stunned but he turns to look at me. He blinks once, looks down and realizes what he was doing, then lets go. I feel the blood rushing back, but I'm a bit concerned that he's not saying anything.

"I… fine. You look a little bit like me. Then who's your mother?" Nine asks, folding his arms with a smug smile.

"I'm not sure if you've met her yet. Do you know a Sarah Hart?"

"WHAT?" Nine looks like he just got shot.

My head snaps up to look at the girl and R starts to crack up. He presses his face against the wood in an attempt to bury his laughter.

"Relax," The girl chuckles. "Like you would have a shot with Aunt Sarah any day."

"Aunt Sarah?" I echo.

Eight finally lets out a strained sort of laugh. "She's got your sense of humour, Nine."

"Knowing you, if I told you who mom was then you'd do everything to avoid her. And I kind of value my life, so."

There's a moment of awkward silence when R lifts his head to look at us. I can't help but pick out the resemblance now. He smiles at me shyly, nervously running a hand through his messy hair. It's Eight's hair. In fact, he doesn't resemble me much, but… me and Eight have a kid…

"Well…" The girl turns back over to R. "I think we've crushed enough spirits for one day. Shall we go?"

He looks back over at me quickly, then back to Nine's daughter. "I guess so. You still want to visit your uncle?"

She holds out a hand and he stands up and grasps it. He's actually really tall, having to slouch just a little bit to avoid hitting his head on the force field. I can't help but feel… startlingly proud of him.

"Uncle?" Nine asks quizzically.

"Uncle Sandor." The girl confirms, nodding her head.

"Don't worry, Uncle Nine. I'll take you back to see him one day." R says, and I can tell how much him saying that means to Nine.

The pair of them start to dissipate, and suddenly I have a million questions for them. They couldn't leave just yet; I didn't know anything about them!

"But what's your name?" I jump up, approaching the flickering force field. "You didn't tell us!"

He winks at me before the pair completely disappear. "I always thought the name Axel Fury was pretty cool."

And they're gone.

"Nice kid you've got, Marina." Nine says after a moment. "He's got… Eight's sense of humour, though, I hope you'll be able to keep up with that."

I don't know what to say to him. "Are you…? I mean…"

"I guess not." He smiles at me. "I suppose… life doesn't have to end after the war, considering I have… whatever that was."

I laugh and breathe a sigh of relief at the same time. He was going to be alright, I decided. And to think we would have never talked about that had those kids never shown up.

But now, I think I need to have a talk with Eight. Something like this was pretty important. I turn around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch where I last saw him. But he's teleported away.


The first place I go check is his room. Of course, that's exactly where I found him. He's sitting on his bed, knees curled up to his stomach, back facing the door. It's dark, the lights are off, but I can see him fine.

"Eight?" I slip inside, quietly walking up to his bed and seating myself behind him. I touch his shoulder lightly. "Are you alright?"

He groans. "What do we control anymore, Marina?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean," He twists around to face me. "I've spent a good portion of my life in fear of a silly cave painting. Even before our births, someone had decided what was going to happen to us. Our whole lives have been controlled by someone else's plan, and seeming our futures just show up… it makes me think that no matter what we do we're never in control of anything."

I lean forward and wrap my arms around him, hugging him to me. "You know that's not true."

"Is it?" He mumbles into my hair.

"Yes." I pull back from him, just slightly enough that I can keep my arms latched around his torso but have us facing each other. "Our lives are always changing." I smile at him. "That's why we live for the moment. Not because we're scared that we'll never get to do everything we've ever wanted to. You taught me that."

He brings my face closer to his, touching our foreheads together. He knots a hand in my hair. "But you know I was always scared."

"But did you ever imagine you'd be having this conversation with me?"

"I never thought I'd have you at all." I wait a moment, and the empty air is filled with his quiet laughter. "When did you get so smart?" He muses.

"Probably the day I kissed you in Dulce." I whisper. "The day I realized I shouldn't let fear rule my life."

He laughs again and presses his lips to mine gently. I'm always shocked when he kisses me, just like the first time in India. But these days it's not a nervous flutter, it's a high-pitched laugh in the bottom of my stomach that spreads to every corner of my body and turns the space between us into static energy and the places our skin touches into one.

After a moment I stop and smile against his lips. "So then tell me," I say. "Did you somehow have other plans than having kids with me?"

"Are you crazy?" He chuckles. "Making babies with you is going to be one of the highlights of my life."

I blush at the meaning of his statement, but he doesn't give me a chance to think about it as he grabs me around the waist, lifting me up onto his lap and deepening the kiss and prying my own mouth open with his tongue.

"Maybe we could practise making babies for later," he whispers, making my protest as he pulls his lips away to touch the exposed skin on my neck. I feel him come around and start kissing my collarbone, then going down, down, down—

"EW GROSS, GROSS, GROSS!" Someone shrieks, and me and Eight jump apart faster than I thought possible.

The lights flicker on and there, standing by the door, are our kids.

"Did they stop?" R has both hands covering his eyes. "That was the most disgusting thing I've ever read from someone's mind before."

"They're done, doofus." The girl laughs, putting her hands on her hips and grinning at him.

R cracks his fingers apart, and after seeing it was all clear lowers his hands. "I will never be able to get that mental image out of my head."

"Do you… want something?" Eight asks, sitting up on the bed, simultaneously scooting away from me. "Is this going to be a regular thing now?"

The girl snorts. "God, no. Can you imagine the giant ulcer that Uncle John would get if he saw us?"

R makes a face. "Nasty. No, Sandor reminded us we forgot to wipe your minds." He shrugs. "We kind of forgot from before."

I can see Eight getting a little bit alarmed. "Wait—" I start, but R cuts me off.

"Don't worry; I'll just erase the stuff you guys don't need to know!" He says quickly before reaching out a hand. "Remember, Axel Fury!" A flash of light explodes from his palm and then… I—I can't remember.

I blink at Eight. "Did we… stop for any particular reason?"

"I just keep thinking about the name Axel Fury."

"Ew." I shiver. "Please, let's never name any of our kids that."

He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. "You're thinking about our kid's names already?"

I blush, looking up to meet his eyes. "I don't know, the concept has been on my mind today for some reason."

He smiles, putting a finger under my chin. "You know, I've been feeling the same way." He says, flicking off the lights with his telekinesis and absorbing me into another kiss.