"I want to, I want to be someone else or I'll explode

Floating upon the surface for

The birds, the birds, the birds

- Radiohead, 'Talk Show Host'

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Atlas

I didn't ask to be a weapon. I never wanted it, was never tempted by the siren song promise of glory and fame. I've always been too busy taking care of myself to handle the kind of responsibility placed on people with the same 'gift'. The fact that the rest of family has a long history of being famous weapons is just the icing on the cake. The fact that I'm the only one who isn't a sword, and actually has three weapon forms? That little gem has caused to nearly kill myself on several occasions, due to the fact that everyone is expecting me to be the greatest weapon our family has ever seen.

Gift. Hah. Yeah, right. Curse would be more appropriate. The constant expectations that loom over you, the burden of having someone place their life in your hands, the dangers of the job...

Nah, I've always been far too much of a self-serving type to willingly place myself in a situation where someone is depending on me. But somehow, ever since Artemis Blaze sauntered into my life, I've been doing things that would be considered...selfless.

Like standing in the freezing rain with absolutely no protection other than a thin hoodie and trying to use a fucking pay-phone (of all things) to call my parents. I fumble as I dial my mom's cell and pray she picks up. The phone is answered on the second ring and I can practically see the look of confusion on her face as she sees the unknown number, muttering a quiet hello.

I dry swallow and try to speak around my tongue, which resembles a heavy slab of cement in my mouth.

"Hey, mom," I say into the phone, and her breath catches.

I haven't spoken to my parents in four months, since they blew up on me for 'wasting my time gallivanting around with that gold digging pet project of mine' end quote. Yeah. Suffice to say they and Artemis don't really get along well. The one time I tried to introduce them was a complete disaster.

I realize she's been talking into the mouthpiece this whole time and cut her off. "Mom, I want you to register me at Shibusen."

She pauses in the middle of her meaningless spiel, and for a moment, there's nothing but radio silence on the other end .The she starts wailing happily, practically sobbing into the phone.

"Ohh, Lord, I had prayed this day would come! Oh, Atlas, your father is going to be so excited! We'd kept your name on the list hoping, always hoping, this day would come! Who's your partner? Hopefully you've ditched that hoodlum along the way- she'd only by a stain on your rep-"

Okaaay, I've heard enough of that particular line of BS.

"Actually, Mom, Artemis is my partner. And because of that, I expect you to treat her with some respect, not talk about her like she's trash." Hopefully she'll be so happy that I've finally decided to 'make something of myself' that she won't care who my partner is.

She breathes heavily over the phone and I can literally feel the waves of motherly disapproval being directed toward me over the airwaves. To my surprise, she exhales calmly instead of berating me like I'm a child, or screeching like a banshee.

"Fine. Do it your way. But I am expecting you to uphold the legacy of the Warden name, Atlas. If I hear so much as one word about that young...lady's...escapades? I will have you separated so fast your head will spin!"

I grit my teeth but manage to force out a few more words. "Thanks Mom. I got it."

"Yes, well... I only want what's best for you Atlas,"- You mean what's best for the precious family legacy-" You should be able to start on monday, but I can pull some strings and have you set up in the school apartments by tonight."

It's more than I would have hoped for. I know Artemis is going to be stoked by the news, and that pulls a half smile from me. I give her the name of our hotel so she can call us on the room phone when she gains access to the apartment, and we exchange goodbyes. Then I sigh, and start the thirty minute trek through the rain to tell the news to my best friend, who is probably sleeping like a baby.

Being a selfless, giving person? Yeah, it sucks ass.

Artemis

Memories are like quicksand. They start out looking innocent and harmless, and before you know it? You're being sucked inside and under, suffocating under the weight of them.

A breeze, a red and yellow kite, and the soft chime of my mother's laughter as she swings me through the air. Up, up, and away!

A fire, a scream and the sound of my heart shattering into pieces as I watch my mother be devoured by flames.

I'm laying on one of the twins beds in the cheap hotel I picked out for us. I stare unblinkingly at the cracks in the ceiling, tracing the thin fissures with my eyes. I could fix it, if I wanted to. Fix it from crumbling down over my head and suffocating me. My soul protect is already in place, but I can't help but wonder at the irony of that spell.

What good is it going to do me if my soul is already at war with itself?

Mixed souls like mine are rare. I've only heard of one other: Magan no Otoko, the man with the demon eye. Of course, we differ in one rather important aspect. He had stolen the witch part of his soul; I had been born with it. My parents realized something was off with their darling little angel when I was about three years old. I had been crying over the fact that a kite my father had made for me had blown away in the wind, when to the shock of my parents, an exact replica of the kite I had lost reappeared in my arms.

Instead of being horrified, they had encouraged me to cultivate my magic. It had been hard, because I'd had to teach myself, to come up with my own techniques and work out the kinks that came with being part witch. My adolescent years were filled with training and little else; till my father had deemed my sufficiency with weapons adequate, and seen that my control had grown over my abilities. It was a pack secret, something that should had never left the village.

But it had. And that was the catalyst of the fateful fire that had snatched away my childhood and everything I had ever loved, leaving me with soot in my eyes, and a pile of smoldering ash where my heart had been.

I'm not aware that there are tears spilling over my face until I taste them, mouth open and heaving with sobs. I cough and scrub my eyes with my hands, blinking the last of the tears away. I can't let Atlas see me like this, see me so unhinged and pathetically weak. Despite everything we've been through together this past year, sometimes I feel as if the only reason he sticks by me is because I'm some sort of charity case. That I'm another distraction to keep him from facing his parents and joining the real world. And though most of the time, I'm loathe to admit it... I need Atlas. He's kept me from going insane, from hitting rock bottom, and I consider him family.

The only one I have left.

Sighing softly, I stand and get myself a glass of tap water, peering into the glass to check if it's clean. The door opens with a bang and I flinch at the loud noise, fingers itching for my bow. I relax when I hear Atlas's familiar grumbling and turn to look at him. He's soaked, shivering, and a hot bolt of guilt pierces through my chest at the fact that he was only out there in the rain because of something I had asked of him.

"You should take those off," I murmur, waving at his dripping clothes, "I don't want you getting sick on me."

He snorts as he strips. "Thank you for your concern, mother."

I wait until he's changed into a clean shirt and some jeans and is laying down on his bed before I ask.

"What did she have to say?" It's likely his batshit crazy mom starting screaming at him for still being around me. The one and only time I met Atlas's parents, I ended up in a situation that involved a dead poodle, some vodka, and a shovel. Umm, yeah. Needless to say, I'm never being invited over there ever again.

"Well..." he says with a yawn, "She's supposed to call her so we can get set up in the school apartments tonight."

I freeze, heart beating erratically in my chest. "We... we're in?"

"Yup," he nods and smiles softly at me. "We should be able to start come monday."

…..Wait a second.

"And you're saying your mom didn't have an aneurism when she found out you and I our taking our relationship to the partner level?"

He winces and shudders. "Christ, you're like a sister to me, and that phrasing was a tad bit incestuous, don't you think?"

I feel my cheeks warm and shoot him a glare. No use mentioning that I think of him as brother as well.

"You know what I mean, you depraved pervert! Did she or did she not?"

"No, actually. However," and here he pauses to smirk at me,"She did promised to separate us if words of your, and I quote, 'escapades' reaches her."

I mock pout and throw myself down on the bed next to him, curling around a pillow. "She's never going to forgive me for Lady Frou-Frou, is she?"

"I doubt it. Considering what happened to that poor poodle-"

I give him the evil eye. We never recount that incident. Ever. Just as I'm considering smothering with the pillow I'm holding, the phone rings and my heart leaps in my chest. Wordlessly, I pass it to him and sit back as he makes all the arrangements. My head is pounding with anxiety, and I only relax when he hangs up and turns to me with a smile.

"Death City, here we come."

The city isn't anything like I expected.

For one, it's looks like something out of a Tim Burton movie. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but the decor could use a little work. The whole, 'let's stick a skull on every building' theme? Yeah, it's not really working for me. I have my fair share of skull jewelry (and one regrettable tattoo)...but to put one on just about every single building...? Come on. I get that this place is owned by Lord Death, but it comes off as just little bit narcissistic to me.

Walking through these streets at night isn't exactly a pleasant experience when there are empty eye sockets staring out at you from around every corner. I heave a sigh of relief when we reach the apartment, and let Atlas do all the talking with the building owner. Once he has the key, we climb a couple flights of stairs until we reach the fifth floor.

Before he opens the door, Atlas turns to me and pulls me in for a long hug. Even though this whole thing was my idea, I've always been horrible at hiding how I'm feeling, and I know I must look extremely nervous about the days to come.

"Relax," he murmurs soothingly, "We can do this. All we have to do is go to school, maintain passing grades, and not get ourselves killed or found out while we search for information on the three witches we're hunting. Then we can drop out and hit the slots back in Vegas."

Riiiight. Because that isn't laying on the pressure thick at all, is it? Sometimes I wonder if all men have the emotional capacity of a brick wall, or if Atlas is just a special case. I snatch the key out his hand (which, by the way, is shaped like a fucking skull. Seriously?!) and give him a look as I open the door, smiling a little when I see that the place is not only already furnished, but that it has a cute little kitchen area as well. I set my bag down on the small table, and turn to my partner, who has already vanished into one of the rooms.

He pokes his head out and gives me a puppy-eyed look. "Can you unpack everything? I always forget what I put in there anyway."

I roll my eyes but nod and he smiles with relief, closing the door. I hum as I open my knapsack, reaching inside and pulling things out one by one. To others, it may seem as if we pack light, considering we only share the one bag between us. In truth, I've managed to fit about as many clothes you would find at Macy's, my weaponry, and other things I've likely forgotten about inside of here. It's a simple spell that creates a never ending storage space inside of an object. Whenever I want to remove a specific item, all I have to do is focus on it and reach inside.

Right now I'm pulling all of Atlas's stuff out. I lift about half of it in my arms and leave it on his bed. I can hear the shower running in the hallway as I put the rest of his things away and instantly perk up at the chance of a hot bath. I walk into the second room and flick the lights on before I instantly start putting things away and organizing them, trying to keep my mind off everything.

How long was it going to be, I wondered, before I could finally claim vengeance and appease the ghosts of my past?

How could I even be sure this plan would work? Trying to subtly extract information out of people wasn't my strong suit. Atlas was the charmer, not me. I hadn't successfully interacted with more than one person in two years. The late Lady Frou-Frou could attest to that.

I was sure of one thing, though. I had waited long enough. I had honed my skills to perfection, and though it was going to be difficult adjusting to fighting with a partner, Atlas and I were already in tune and I was confident we could work it out. When I had nothing left to put away, I changed into a pair of sweats and a wifebeater, crawling onto the bed.

My exhausted body collapsed in a pile of tired limbs and I closed my eyes, sinking peacefully into darkness.

A/N: Ahh, okay, so maybe I lied about the introduction to all our favorites, haha! Next chapter is going to be much, much longer, and is going to include coffee, nose bleeds, and a sparring match that comes a little too close to a real fight! Review, maybe? Please? ;D