Chapter Fourteen: Halcyon - June, 1995

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Spencer was back for a week before it happened.

He'd been quiet. Withdrawn. Aaron rambled happily about their story, about the fort, about all the plans he had to expand it in the future. They could make a Mordor across the quarry, right where they'd just be able to see it, make a Shire in the foothills, all kinds of things.

And Spencer trudged after him, head down and sneakers dusty, humming non-committedly to every suggestion Aaron presented, even as they got more and more desperate as he tried to stave off the inevitable. It hung over them, something awful.

Aaron knew all about something awful. It was the beer on his dad's breath. It was a new bruise on Mom's cheek. It was coming home to the silent waiting hush. It was walking upstairs and noting Sean wasn't there.

It was Sean never coming home.

And it was Spencer's face right now.

"Okay, what is it?" Aaron asked finally, turning and facing his friend. They were just inside Rhosgobel. It wasn't even hot yet. Summer hadn't even started. His voice whined, his breath catching. They weren't done having fun yet. They weren't done yet. "Come on. Tell me!"

Spencer closed his eyes, tilting his chin down, a glimmer of hazel flickering between slightly open lids as he looked towards the fort. The fort they'd found they barely fit in anymore. Aaron had giggled, folding his legs up. Spencer had merely smiled tightly and said… nothing.

"I finished school," he said finally, with a shrug, and Aaron hated him for a heartbeat. Hated his brain. What good was being smart when it made you miserable. What good was being smart when it… "I start college this year."

When it sent you away from the one person who needed you most. More than anything.

More than he'd known.

"Where to?" Aaron asked numbly. College? At thirteen, barely? They'd eat him alive. And no number of letters could protect him there, no matter how much Aaron wanted to.

"MIT." Spencer didn't sound excited. "They've been talking to Mom and I since last year. I won't… I won't be coming back."

"Massachusetts? That's hours away." Aaron's head whirled. What… what was he saying?

"Closer than Nevada…" Spencer stepped closer. "Aaron, I don't… I'm sorry. I. Should have mentioned earlier, I didn't know how and… time just went so fast. We were having so much fun and all I looked forward to were there summers… I thought we had more. It's okay, I understand if you…"

"If I what?" Aaron was sharper than he'd intended, anger and misery still burning in his gut and making his fists clench.

Spencer huddled back, slouching to hide the height he'd started to gain. It left him looking ungainly, the pinched kind of skinny of a boy growing too quick without enough to fuel it.

Aaron immediately regretted his tone. Didn't know how to show it. Settled for glaring at the ground between them.

The reply was a choked whisper. "If you don't want to be friends anymore…"

"Of course I do." Aaron heaved in a breath that hurt on the way down. "This doesn't change anything. We've spent more time being far away than we have close. We'll just… keep doing what we're doing."

There was a hopeful kind of light sparking on Spencer's thin face. "You mean that?" he said, half a smile tugging at his mouth. "Still friends? Even… after all this is over?" He gestured around as the fort that suddenly didn't seem quite as magical, quite as timeless. The planks along the side were warped, buckled with the heat, the branch roof drooping with the leaves long lost. The door hung crooked, the fence sagged.

"We'll always have Rhosgobel," Aaron murmured, not really paying attention now. The door swayed slightly in the wind, a beetle on the corner flicking its wings with a whurr. They would. This. They would have this. Long after Rhosgobel rotted and Spencer moved on to his future and Aaron…

Aaron stayed here. With his dad and his beery breath and the something awful.

"Aaron?" A touch on his arm. Spencer had moved closer, his fingers curling warm and soothing around the crook of Aaron's elbow. "You don't look well. Are you sick?"

"I'm fine," Aaron said, his voice distant through a buzzing in his ears. Rhosgobel looked grey. Wan. Tired. "I want to go home."

"Okay." The hand on his arm dropped away, leaving his skin cold. "Okay. You're coming back though?"

Aaron stumbled away, sneakers skidding on the loose rock. He didn't look back. "Yeah, of course. Of course. Seeya soon. Sometime."

"Sometime?"

Aaron didn't reply.