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~.PART I.~
skin/scale, boy, girl
come undone in the heat
#~#
CHAPTER ONE
"What do you mean - dragon?"
"Exactly that - a dragon. It. . . it took her."
"Of all the idiots! That moron doesn't have a single brain cell in that vacant planetoid she calls a head! How in the name of all things unholy did I ever see anything in her?
That was how it began - their Epic Fight. Granted, it wasn't quite as epic as the Dysenteric Pegasus Incident - no, that would go down in history as one of the most creative non-fatal revenge techniques ever performed on a single defenseless victim. This one, though, was a close second as far as asinine choices and preposterous cause-and-effects went. Later, her family would still have no idea as to how they survived it, let alone came anywhere close to speaking to each other again. And as for what happened in the forest immediately after. . . well, Henry still got the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. To fully appreciate how a perfectly innocuous family weekend all went to pot, we must start at the beginning.
Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Sabrina Grimm. Until she hit puberty, she was a normal - if a bit mouthy - kid who tried to save the world (and did). She had a fair amount of common sense but also a penchant for making unwise decisions - the unfortunate result of being simultaneously headstrong-with-a-point-to-prove and blindly devoted to protecting people she cared about. One might consider the latter motivation - to her credit - a mitigating factor whenever things ultimately turned catastrophic, especially paired with her weepy backstory (abandonment, foster care, abuse, hideous clothes picked out by color-blind humanoid guardian, etc. etc.). However, the fact remained that, noble or not, her intentions ultimately landed her in hot water more times than she or any of her beholden family members could count. Said family, aware of both her deep-seated image issues and their own role in her martyr-savior behavior, recommended psychological help, to which she acceded, albeit with no small amount of cynicism. As expected, this produced limited success; as long as "the crazies" were out there in the world, she'd maintained after several hundred dollars' worth of combined cognitive-behavioral and rational-emotive therapy, she'd always be the first in line to defend her loved ones, and she'd never rest until she'd eradicated every last threat all by herself, thank you very much.
And then she became a teenager.
Summary: Sabrina Grimm was a ticking time bomb itching to take on the cosmos.
Now, as if the cosmos didn't already have its metaphorical hands full with one walking hormonal disaster, Sabrina Grimm had a partner in crime - a boy of questionable age and even more dubious genetics, named Puck. In many ways, they were similar - shoot-off-their-mouths snarky, gargantuan savior complexes, better with their hands than their words (which wasn't saying much) - but Puck exhibited marginally better self-control and far better judgement in dangerous situations. For one, he was Fae, and immortal, and possessed magical abilities that put him at an immediate and unfair advantage over Sabrina, who was not only feebly human in general (as he took great delight in reminding her), but specifically dysfunctional in the presence of magic. Puck was also a far superior fighter, particularly with hand-held weapons, while Sabrina's innate pugilistic talent lay largely in the use of her right fist, which she applied liberally and with aplomb in lieu of actual communication. For the most part, they tolerated each other (so they said) although the oracular word-of-mouth was that they were fated to fall in love someday and be married. Naturally, both met this auspicious prophecy with impassioned utterances, not all of which were joyful; in fact, this very revelation was the impetus behind the aforementioned Dysenteric Pegasus fiasco, a trauma which we shall not recount here, as it has very little to do with our story.
Having established the idiosyncratic dispositions of our protagonists, let us now meet them in play. It was a late summer weekend during Sabrina Grimm's seventeenth year, when the days were still golden and the nights only just beginning to cool. To celebrate her father Henry's birthday, the Grimm family had driven from their urban high-rise to camp in the woods near her grandmother's estate in Ferryport Landing - one last hurrah, as it were, before the start of school. In attendance were Henry, her mother Veronica, her sister Daphne, her brother Basil and her grandmother Relda. Puck - although not officially a Grimm - had also come along under the pretext that that the Grimms were "a bunch of city-dwelling dweebs who'd likely poison themselves on lethal berries or get eaten alive by monsters if no one (he meant himself) were there to look after them".
On that latter claim he was unerring, it turned out, but the manner with which he'd chosen to avail his services had not endeared him to the family he'd felt so moved to protect. Unsurprisingly, Sabrina Grimm had boxed his ear and called him a number of rude but accurate names in response, to which he'd retaliated with a few well-placed slurs on her own virtue and honor - a typical exchange between two teenagers poorly managing their sexual tension, in other words.
Finally, after an exhausting afternoon of similarly loaded back-and-forths, the adults had astutely separated them, with Henry taking Puck away to gather firewood while Sabrina remained at the campsite to set up their tents. It was a disgusting exposition of gender roles, but the adults were at their wits' end and unbothered to exercise any more creativity than necessary to restore peace. Veronica and Relda had looked at each other with a mixture of weariness and understanding - after all, they too had once been girls on the cusp of womanhood - but the limit of their own empathy had already been exceeded several hours earlier. Henry had thought some man-to-man talk with Puck might help dissipate the boy's hysterical energy somewhat, much as he was still uncomfortable with his own daughter being its incitement. Still, better her father setting a potential suitor straight with regard to the finer points of managing women than some other disreputable or - worse, salacious - source, was his philosophy. And with that reasoning, he'd pulled the boy away from the company of the gentler (but only until a certain member among them opened her mouth) sex, and toward the calm, green woods.
At first, the silence had been awkward - and a clear power play - between the two men as they'd wandered around the back of the rock face in whose shelter they'd be spending the night. But then they'd finally got to talking, with Puck even admitting, in not so many words, that Sabrina was more than just a thing with which to goad his potential father-in-law. This in itself goaded Henry to acute annoyance, but he'd remembered the point of this excursion, so bit his tongue and let the boy go on. He'd listened as Puck complained that he couldn't understand why Sabrina insisted on doing everything solo, why she wouldn't let him save her from herself, and that he sometimes wanted to shake her hard just to make her see obvious sense.
"It's the Grimm women," Henry had said discriminatorily. "They're so determined not to let the war get the ones they love."
"What war?" Puck had scoffed. "Stupid Everafter feud's been over for years!"
"Any war. Any conflict. Any threat." Henry had quickly reframed, realizing that literal worked better than figurative with the frustrated Fae boy. "She had to watch out for Daphne when she wasn't old enough to . . . to . . . when she hadn't the resources to draw on; she was running on empty back when she didn't even have enough for herself. She's stronger now, smarter, has more skills, more people to fall back on, but it can be hard to unlearn what your mind is so used to remembering."
Puck had kicked the leaves viciously in response.
"It's been so many years. She should know me by now. I wouldn't take that away from her - wanting to protect you all, I mean. I just want to help her not do it alone. She's so . . . grrrnhhhh!"
Henry had paused, casting about for the gumption to say what was both at the back of his mind and on the tip of his tongue. Finally, he took a deep breath and forced the words out, willing them to sound casual.
"You care for her, don't you?"
Any normal teenage boy, hearing those words from the father of his intended target would've quaked at the knees, liberally sprinkled the word "Sir" in his address, and avoided direct eye contact with the one person whose impression of him could make or break the deal. But Puck was not a normal teenage boy so instead, he'd made an inappropriate sound in which, if one were familiar with his repertoire of inappropriate sounds, one might have discerned the semantics of a swear word.
In turn, Henry had marveled that, were he a normal father of a teenage girl, conversing with the boy in pursuit of her affections, he'd have pulled out a shotgun and, with all the passion of a Capulet forbidding his child from fraternizing with a Montague, ordered said boy out of his daughter's life. But Henry was no more a normal father than his daughter a normal teenage girl so he'd instead exhaled and tried again.
"And keeping her safe is how you know to show it."
"And she's too blind - or stubborn - to see!"
That, Henry had to agree with, in spite of all the independence, resourcefulness and self-sufficiency he was proud to observe in Sabrina. The boy had a valid point and he, as her father, had no problem conceding that two swords were ultimately mightier than one, as were four fists tougher than two, and one heart strengthened by another's desire to keep it beating a far better deal than the one heart skewered on the battlefield - or broken by a lesser lover.
For - much as it still made his hair stand to think it - Puck was not a bad match by any standards. He was strong enough to stand Sabrina's outbursts but not so hard that he didn't hear the dark and lonely undercurrents that so often flowed invisibly through her risky adventures and daredevil schemes. And, unlike many other boys his age (whatever that age was), Puck didn't look at Sabrina with One Thing on his mind; when they were together, they were more often than not physical in ways that merely involved short-range combat and lethal weapons.
Close bodily contact, ripped clothing, spiking adrenaline and risky behavior - it was all relative, after all, and subject to interpretation, and Henry knew which version he preferred.
"That's the thing with women," Henry had resorted once more to convenient stereotypes, "you've gotta know their particular translation. Get the tone right, and you get the meaning across. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time. Don't give up on her. Keep finding different ways to say it. Don't stop till you find the right words."
"Freaking words. Can't she just see?"
Henry had clapped Puck's shoulder in a man-show of sympathy, sensing that the boy was just letting off steam at this point; he'd already gotten the message. They'd bent to gather up the sticks they'd kicked together in an untidy pile, and headed back to rejoin the family.
Even as they came within sight of it, they knew something was wrong at the campsite. Instead of a cozy homecoming scene, they were met with the Grimms darting around frantically, digging in backpacks and calling out in anxious voices to each other. Around them lay the parts of the tents, still unassembled. And in the air was the distinct smell of smoke.
Henry announced their return and panicked faces turned in his direction. Puck counted four: Veronica, Daphne, Basil, Relda.
Sabrina was not among them. His heart sank.
"Where's Stinkface?" He shouted, beginning to run.
"She's gone!" Daphne sounded dazed.
"Gone? Where?"
"There was a dragon. Didn't you see it?"
"What do you mean - dragon?" Puck had a very bad feeling about this. Especially since dragon visits were seldom - okay, never - friendly.
"Exactly that - a dragon. It. . . it took her. She was trying to protect us."
It took Puck exactly half a second to believe Daphne. Because it was precisely the sort of thing Sabrina would do. Against all odds. Wildly noble and wholly impulsive. Plain stupid, in other words. He dropped his armful of firewood, not even noticing that it landed painfully on his feet.
"Of all the idiots! That moron doesn't have a single brain cell in that vacant planetoid she calls a head! How in the name of all things unholy did I ever see anything in her?"
Daphne's eyes widened at what could well be Puck's first ever public admission of his feelings for Sabrina that wasn't accompanied by a smirk or sarcastic laughter. It was a pity her sister wasn't present to hear it. Maybe she could get Puck to repeat it, in slightly more flattering words, when they finally got Sabrina back.
If they got Sabrina back. Dragons didn't usually ask for ransoms. Daphne's thoughts drifted back to Briar and the dragon that had taken her life, and her blood ran cold.
Puck was shouting again.
"Was she alive? Did she have a weapon? Which direction did it go?"
"Yes, she was alive." Veronica came to join them, her face ashen. "The dragon was circling lower and lower, like it was hunting. We thought it might pick one of us off but Sabrina was sure it was just going to burn everything. She said we wouldn't stand a chance because it's all kindling around us." She waved at the trees surrounding their campsite. "So she distracted it while we ran for cover."
"Distracted it? A dragon?" Puck was livid as he clawed his hair. "She and what freaking army? Did she eat stupid for breakfast or something? You can't just distract a dragon on the ground! It'd just . . . just . . . did she learn nothing from the war? And you let her? Unbelievable!"
"But you did it." Daphne whimpered.
"In the air!" Puck yelled. "Aerial maneuver! It's the only way! On the ground, there's swiping tails and smashing claws and fiery breath and . . . and everything! It's like a fully-armed battering ram! But in the air, you can duck out of the way much faster than it can, and get close enough to blind it, or stab it while it's working on staying airborne. And there are ways to draw it away then. But wait! I believe there's a tiny catch somewhere . . . " he made an exaggerated show of thinking very hard, then drawled patronizingly, "Oh, I know! You'd have to have wings!"
He scowled bitterly. "But why am I bothering to explain all this to you? It's a bit late now!"
"Can you save her?" Daphne was in tears, shock finally giving way to grief.
"Well, I've got no choice, have I?" Puck said, looking around for something to fight a dragon with. They'd left their combat weapons at home, thinking that this was going to be a peaceful camping trip in the woods.
As if. They were Grimms. Even on their days off, disaster followed them like a vulture to carrion.
Puck finally found a long, strong branch and caught up a kitchen knife lying beside one of the tent bundles. Flying up into a tree, he ripped out some vines and returned to the ground, tying its handle to the end of the branch with the longest of them. Holding his makeshift lance, he frowned around at everyone.
"Did she have a weapon?" He demanded again.
Daphne shook her head. "She took my wand. The one I brought with us in case we needed to conjure extra food or shelter, if it rained."
Puck gaped at her. "Well, it just keeps getting better and better! The peabrain can't even handle magic without blacking out or turning into a raving lunatic and that's the only weapon she's got with her?"
"I'm sorry!" Daphne wailed. "I sh… shouldn't have brought it. It's my fault!"
Puck slapped his hand to his head and exhaled noisily. "No, Marshmallow, it's not your fault. It's . . . dangit! I hate it when dragons come around acting like they're gods of the whole dang world. Freaking bullies! Look, I'll get her back, okay? And I'll take out that stupid overgrown bird, too, so it won't ever come back. Stop crying! I've killed hundreds of 'em before; it'll be a piece of cake."
"You promise?" Daphne looked at him with wide, shiny eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I promise."
"Oh, Puck!" She threw herself at him and almost choked him before he could pry her arms away. Over her shoulder, he caught Henry's troubled gaze.
"You see, old man? This is exactly what I was talking about! Your daughter is a walking disaster! It's a good thing I'm here to clean up her mess. I'll bring her sorry ass back, don't worry. And if that dragon doesn't kill her first, I'll do it myself for being such a dumb-butt."
Daphne wailed again, right into his ear, and he recoiled. "Okay, okay, Marshmallow, cut it out! Enough of the boo-boo faces already! And hey, Basil! You're in charge of this sorry bunch now, got it? Make sure no one else does something stupid. Now, which way did the dragon go?"
Basil wordlessly pointed to the West and Puck, with the lance in his hand, rose off the ground on frantic wings, billowing a cloud of leaves and dust beneath him. Without a backward glance, he turned and flew off into the setting sun.
A/N: An earlier update than I promised, but this was a short chapter and I had some time this morning to do a final edit. Happy weekend!
