Chapter Four: Alcyone – August, 1992

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On the last hour of their last day, Spencer considered that he'd maybe made a friend.

He'd never had a friend before. He wasn't quite sure how to verbalize how it made him feel. He sat in Rhosgobel—finished now, and more amazing than Spencer could possibly have imagined when he'd begun, and stared at the beetle still marching in circles around their enclosed little world. There was so much he wanted to say, stealing glances at the strange, intense, dark-haired boy who'd trooped into his life.

I've never not been alone, he thought of saying, but was that true? Really? He'd had his parents. Always, his mom…

I'm scared you'll be gone when I come back, was another thing he couldn't say because it bared way too much of himself.

I'm never going to forget this, was something he thought he actually might be able to say, if he remembered how to talk around the anxiety in his throat. Never forget the days of building, the nights of planning, the summer stretching on endlessly with no regard for the ceaseless passage of time…

Never forget Aaron. Even if they never had this again.

"Why do you look so miserable?" Aaron asked suddenly, sitting upright with a twig in his mouth and shuffling over on his butt. "Nine months isn't so long."

"It's almost ten percent of my life to this point," Spencer protested, without marking it to the decimal point (9.72%), "that's ages! And…" He trailed off, coughed, swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.

Aaron watched him. There was something in his face, some expression that made Spencer uncomfortable. It reminded him of the bullies at school, but… nicer. Some worried kind of knowing. Something that made his gut ache. He wondered if he'd see the same expression if he looked in the mirror. "What if we say something?" Aaron said, ignoring the drooping sun and their time together coming to an end. "To mark the occasion?"

Spencer thought about that. Like a contract. Or a… vow. Of something. Of existence.

Yeah. If they vowed, Aaron would have to come back.

And he knew just what to say.

It was the bravest thing he'd ever done, he thought, to hold out his hand. Aaron took it, and both their palms were sweaty. Fingers slipping together, they kneeled in the dust with the sun setting and the beetle continuing his trek over Aaron's left shoe.

"And this place is forever known as Rhosgobel and the armies of Fear won't come here," Spencer said determinedly, squeezing tight. Aaron squeezed back. "On this date of August 1992, we call this place ours forevermore."

Aaron laughed, standing with a leap and a skitter of rocks, and he shouted, "And the armies of Fear, stay the hell away!", whooping, jumping, and Spencer stared. "Come on, Spence! You gotta mark the occasion!" With wild exuberance, he moved. Complete abandon.

Spencer didn't know how. He stood nervously, staring at his grinning friend.

"Uh," he tried, and shrugged. "Stay the hell away?"

Aaron rolled his eyes and stepped closer, reaching out his dirty hand. "I'll show you," he said with a snort, and Spencer went to take it and instead felt himself being yanked cruelly awake with a yelped, no, don't

(i don't want to wake yet)

(don't go)