The sand was warm between her toes. She hadn't been to the beach in the longest while. The closest thing to it was her apartment complex's top floor pool.
Burn had his arm over Fizz's shoulder to comfort her as best he could. He didn't know how stressed she was until she confessed to seeing Bedlam's signature over Progress City. He took her to the beach to see if she would calm down, but the amount of people made her very tense. He was steering her away to a more secluded part of the beach where she could talk it out.
It was a bit rockier and full of palm trees than the rest of the beach, but she didn't mind. At least there weren't people around jamming to tunes and unruly children running amok. Burn brought a towel for them and he quickly placed it over the rock they were about to sit on since it was extremely hot.
"So… you knew all this time, huh?" she inquired timidly. She hated feeling helpless. She hated confrontation and even remembering old confrontations. She hated her paranoia. Most of all, she hated her depressive state. She was stuck with one of her best friends in such a vulnerably emotional state.
He lightly chuckled. He was a cop after all. He noticed his friend's rigid posture. She sat in a way that in any moment she could walk away from the situation. He was pretty sure if he didn't keep an eye on her, she would disappear. Like Ed, like Fizz.
"The night Ed left… it was surreal," she explained. "Ever since Ol' Skool disappeared, he stopped having visions."
Burn didn't realize until she mentioned it that Ed never spoke about having a vision the last two years they worked in the Dojo.
"And then last year rolled around… and he had this vision." She looked at the horizon. The breeze was very comforting. Her red hair flew lifelessly. "He barged into our room like a madman. I've never seen him that riled up… I tried to calm him down, but he just… couldn't. We eventually argued—I don't know why since all of his visions come true."
"You'd think he would get sick of us doubting him by now."
Her legs were slowly relaxing, adjusting themselves to the awkwardness of sitting on top of rock. She smiled solemnly. "I know, right? I just… didn't want to believe him. I didn't want him to fight Bedlam again. I didn't—I don't want to lose him." She looked at Burn for some form of comfort. Her posture lost its rigidness. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. She was going to finish what she started.
Another gust of air blew towards them; this time harder. Her flowing hair, like her words, suddenly expressed life. "When we were younger, he told me that he eventually had to leave us behind to protect Earth and his alien world. He had to watch over us. I didn't want that! I wanted to be with him!" She was teary-eyed just remembering that night.
"I wanted us—the Dojo—to be together again, hang out and have a blast just doing whatever the fuck we wanted," Fizz continued. "He stopped being a destined child. Why couldn't he stay like that?" She was becoming agitated, but soon calmed down when she realized… "I've been so selfish. I've been thinking about what I want that I forget about what Ed wants."
Burn found out what polar opposites Fizz's public persona was to her private one. While publicly she was confident, smart and unruly, her private life was filled with over-adoration, lack of self-worth, very unhealthy and obsessive thoughts, and abandonment issues. For a lack of better terms, she was pretty much a mess.
Depression… depression was the better term. He knew he used that word to describe the woman for the longest time, but the word grew heavy. It was a monster in it of itself. It wasn't a depressive mood—she was suffering from depression. This wasn't something that started when Ed left; this was years in the making. How didn't they all notice this sooner?
She grew up so fast that she never got a chance to resolve all these issues slowly. She was naive with her feelings—she hadn't figured out the bigger picture of her depression. She'd been so focused on Ed that she hadn't been living her own life.
And how could he bring it up? How could he even try to be romantically-involved with her after all this? How could it even be healthy for her? How could he intervene without scaring her? How could he intervene without her feeling attacked and pushing everyone away once again?
"Tell me the truth… am I being selfish?"
Oh, he did not want to be on the spot! He already felt like a shitty friend after listening to her insecurities and not realizing this was a mental illness all along. How could she even manage with all those terrible thoughts about herself?
"Frances Roche, you are a piece of work," Burn sighed. The least he could do was speak up. "I think sometimes you forget you are human as well. It's okay to be selfish every once in a while. It's okay to have feelings… the good and the bad ones." He grabbed onto her waist, pulled her closer and hugged her. "You drowning yourself in the bad ones that you tend to forget the good things that happen to you."
She gulped. This wasn't the first time she heard that.
"And didn't you come here to chill? You need it."
"I came because of my mom. If it were up to me, I'd be back home." She looked up at him. He looked a bit disappointed by her answer. His grip on her was slowly weakening. "But then again…" She grabbed his face and kissed him right on the lips. She did it a bit forcefully; maybe she missed that sensation a bit too much. "I'm glad to be spending time with you."
Burn was extremely dumbfounded. Seconds ago, he was just analyzing the situation and mentally kicking himself. He kept staring at her—he had no choice, she still held his head—trying to find a solution to his dilemma. But maybe…
Just maybe…
He should listen to his own advice every once in a while and let it play by ear. He could be selfish for once as well.
He kissed her back—just a tad gentler than her.
"Hey… Mom."
"How are you, kiddo?"
"Could be worse." Fizz was sitting on a black barstool in Burn's kitchen counter. She was a bit tanner in complexion thanks to their escapade to the beach earlier in the afternoon. She was adding a software to her holo-solid: one that could track everyone in the files she had gathered—Deets, Burn, Loogie, Ol' Skool, Ed, and Bedlam. If he was back in Progress, the least she could do was localize everyone.
"This is probably the first positive thing you've said in a long while! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Look, I just wanted to say that I'll see you tomorrow. I found someone who'll come with."
"Oh my… Frances… are you in love?"
She scoffed so hard even Burn, who was in the kitchen cleaning up dishes, turned his head to see what was going on.
"You are! I just know it!" her mother squealed in delight.
"Stop it! I am not!"
"You know you can't lie!" She giggled. "I'm so happy for you! I know how much you loved Edward and how much you've mourned since he disappeared; but I'm so glad you're moving on."
Moving on? Oh, her mom will be so disappointed if she ever found out…
"I'll… I'll call you back later… Goodbye." She turned down the call. She was so taken aback by her mother's comments. Wasn't this supposed to be like a quick fling over the weekend and done? Was she actually in love?
Only one way to find out.
"Hey Brandon!" The man turned towards her once again. His fingers were dripping in soapy water. He grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands. "Are you in love with me?" His eyebrows rose up in surprise. He stared at her, at the counter, at the fridge, at the ceiling. He stood in frozen place.
Oh yeah, he was in love.
And she was giddy by his reaction… fuck.
"Don't freak out, Brandon; it's just a question."
He stammered a bit—still in shock of what had just transpired. He managed to say something, "Love is such a strong word."
"Aww, you wanna go down as if we were kids," she mocked. "Do you like me? Like-like me?" She laughed.
"You messed me up."
The perfect description to their relationship.
She smiled warm-heartedly. Her mother's words echoing in her brain. Fine. Fucking fine. Her mom was right.
"You messed me up too."