This is sort of a side story oneshot kind of deal. It is just a sub-moment between two characters in my upcoming story Half Past Mishchief (Super 8 fanfic if you havent guesssed.) it gives you a glimpse into their friendship.

DC: i obviously dont own Super 8. If i did, i wouldn't be using my spare time writing random stories for the fabulous and slightly grammatically challenged people of Fanfiction. Avery is my own character though!

It was autumn in Lillian. Cary and Avery were sitting at the big tree near Creekers pond, fiddling with the bright orange and crimson leaves that had fallen on the ground. They were sitting in comfortable silence, something they didn't do very often because they were very rarely quiet at all.

Being Cary's best friend was easy. All you really had to do was be there when he needed you, which Avery was. You had to love the wild side of life, which Avery did. You had to live life in the moment, something Cary and Avery both did. Those three things made it easy. So simple.

It was the same way with Avery. Being her best friend was something Cary didn't have to put much thought into. It was a no brainer. Just listen to what she has to say, know when to be serious, and question authority. Hell, question everything humanly possible. Avery liked to be spontaneous and Cary was happy to oblige, creating new ways to make her laugh every day.

Their friendship was inevitable. It was known from the start that they'd have the best connection, because they were so much alike, yet so different at the same time. They balanced each other out. That's just how it worked out.

"Cary, why do you like fire?" Avery asked him.

"Why do you like making slime so much?" he asked her.

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second."

"Cary!" she said annoyed.

"I dunno," he shrugged.

"Yes you do," she told him. "Want to know why I like slime?"

"Duh. That's why I asked you in the first place," he grinned.

"I thought you were asking to avoid the question," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth or I'll take a lighter to it."

Avery crossed her arms and slumped back against the tree pouting. Cary ignored her, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. It wasn't often that happened…

After realizing that her pouty face had no affect against that blank poker face of Cary's, she sat up and started shredding leaves with her callused fingers.

"I like slime because I make it. I can never go wrong with slime. It's one of the only things that I can control in my life. You know I don't have much control over anything else. I know I can't really mess it up."

Cary nodded. "I guess I like fire for the same reason. It's like… I don't know. It's art to me. Fire and explosives. No two are exactly the same. I can make them whatever colors I want. I can make them more intense. I guess it's the same with me as it is with you and slime. I don't have much power over anything else in my life."

"I get it. I guess I never really thought of fire that way. It sorta makes sense… in a twisted weird way," Avery answered. "How old were you again? You know, when you messed with fire?"

"I was five. It was right before Joe became my friend, when my parents started having marital issues. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly what you would call a social butterfly. I tend to stick with the same people instead of venturing out. That's why I'm surprised we even became friends. I'm just not a people person." Cary was quiet for a moment. "But, people get it wrong you know."

Avery looked at him confused. "Get what wrong?"

"They say I'm a pyromaniac, and I guess I am. To a certain extent. I don't mess with fire because I have parent problems or because I'm… what do they say these days? Oh, right. 'Socially awkward.'" He said disgusted, putting little quotes around it with his fingers. "I mess with fire mostly because I like it. I'm not a full blown pyro. I'm just a fire starter."

"Yeah…" Avery said quietly, not sure how to correctly respond to that.

"I can't really say much though. Especially about my parents. You do have that bit worse than me," he stated, taking out his lighter and flicking it to watch the flames dance above his fingertips.

"Yeah, but we ran away from those problems. That was decided when we moved here from Montana. We're done with them."

"Avery, I've been your friend for a bit now. I can tell it bothers you."

"Okay, fine. It still haunts me. It haunts me all the time and it won't go away. Ya happy?" she snapped.

"Of course not. I hate it when my best friend gets upset or scared. Are you still having those nightmares?" he asked her. He was referring to the time he spent the night with her and Henson over at their house and she woke up screaming her head off.

"Sometimes. Not as much. Only about once a week now. If I'm lucky, it skips a week all together."

"Good. Avery, I'm really sorry about your dad. You know you're my best friend, right?" he asked, putting his arm around her and squeezing.

"Yup. And you know you're mine," she told him squeezing him back. "I'm glad we had this talk." She smiled.

"Me too Avery, me too." He smiled back at her.