Aramis and Feron were only a room apart, so it was a little surprised to get a message from them. Silently it unlocked its phone and read the message.

09:48

feron: can we go shopping

feron: i want to wear a dress?

aramis: sure

Seen 09:49

Aramis decided it would be better to get the bus into town rather than get a lift from Treville or Richelieu. Feron had explicitly stated he wanted to be more independent, so it would benefit them a lot. It set up his wheelchair in the hallway; it was used when they went out rather than in the house as it was easier for them to use his walking frame to get about.

The bus was quiet, and they both easily found a seat at the front. "What colour were you thinking?" asked Aramis. Feron, who had been looking out the window, turned to it.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe not something short. I like blue ..."

"You could've worn one of mine," it offered.

"Yeah, I know," replied Feron. "But I can't take your clothes."

"Of course you can," insisted Aramis. "You're my brother ... you like brother, don't you?"

"Brother or sibling. But yeah. Do you wear makeup?"

"Sometimes, when Milady releases her hold on hers long enough for me to take some." It smiled and touched Feron's knee gently. "I watch all those tutorials on YouTube."

"How much money did you bring?" he asked.

"Twenty," replied Aramis. "You?"

"Fifteen," said Feron. "Are you gonna buy some makeup here?"

Aramis shrugged. "Maybe," it said. The bus stopped, and it quickly got up so that it could get Feron's wheelchair to them. He took several quiet but shaky steps and sat in the chair.

"Thanks," it said to the bus driver as they got off. "Where do you want to go first?"

Feron shrugged. "Primark?" he suggested.

Aramis laughed. "Nice choice," it said in an approving tone. "You can get a ton of things here and it's quite cheap."

It dodged the holiday-wear aisle, doubting he was ready for that yet. There were several loose-fitting dresses hanging on a rail, and Aramis smiled in satisfaction. "What about one of these?" it asked, pointing specifically to a flower-patterned one that had a sort of elegance to it, yet didn't look too formal or fancy.

"That looks nice," he agreed. "I think I might be a twelve." Aramis took it from the rail and hooked it on the handle of the wheelchair.

"Do you want to go and try it on?" it asked.

Feron shook his head. "I'll try it on at home," he said quietly.

"That's fine," it said. "You don't have to try it on here if it makes you uncomfortable. Do you want anything else?"

"Didn't you want some makeup?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I'm not getting it from here," said Aramis. "Let's go and pay, then."

There wasn't much of a queue, and they were at the till fairly quickly. To Feron's relief, the cashier didn't question the choice of clothing, and they were out of the store in record time. Aramis took them to Game and it lingered lovingly in front of the new Assassin's Creed game.

"I'd kill for an Xbox One," it said wistfully.

"Then save up your money instead of spending it on makeup," suggested Feron.

"Yeah, but if I don't stop taking Milady's then she'll kill me," it countered.

They left the store empty-handed, much to Feron's relief. In the end, Aramis didn't buy any makeup, but Feron somehow ended up with a pair of Harry Potter pyjamas as well as half of Aramis's McDonald's. He forced themself to eat quickly so he didn't have to listen to its rant about the quality of ketchup at their local McDonald's.

Aramis bought them an iced frappe even though he insisted he wasn't thirsty, and he was still drinking it on the way home.

Only in the privacy of his room was Feron confident enough to put on the dress he'd bought. He looked at themself in the mirror. It hung just below his knees and the thick straps fit his shoulders well. "Alright, you can come in," he said.

Aramis grinned as it entered. "God, you look great. And that's not a word I use often."

"What, great?" he joked.

"Ah, so you're coming downstairs now, then?"

"What?" Feron spluttered. "I'm not going downstairs like this!"

"But you look great," it said. "You should. Jean and Armand support you, as does everyone else. We don't care what you wear as long as it's not nothing."

"Alright, fine," he said finally. "But just because you're my sibling."

Aramis laughed. "Great. I'll tell Lucien to stop fucking about on the stairlift then. He's been going up and down for fifteen minutes, it's ridiculous."