ONWARDS AND UPWARDS

Warnings for homophobic comments made by the main antagonist, as well as physical violence perpetrated by said character.

Here's Part 2. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

This shift made itself obvious a month a half after that conversation, or three months he had met Basil Glendower. They were laying out in the front yard of Basil's house -a squat, pea green affair- watching the stars and the slowly passing clouds. The moonlight was wonderful. They laid head to head and Ian pointed out constellations while Basil told the legends behind each one. A cloud passed in front of the moon and they fell silent for a bit. When it reappeared, Basil flipped over so he was on his stomach and looked right at Ian. He looked nervous, which was strange. Ian watched him as he took a deep breath and said: "Ian, I think you're wonderful; absolutely brilliant." Which took him by surprise, but he also had an idea where this might be going, with the moonlight and stargazing and all that. He braced himself as Basil continued. "And I think I'm in love with you." Basil was nothing if not straightforward.

Ian, who had been doing a lot of grappling and soul-searching, had a reply ready. "And I think I'm in love with you."

Basil grinned the brightest grin anyone could ever give, and flipped back over to look at the stars once more. Both elves reached a hand slowly up towards the other until their fingers barely brushed, and they both smiled.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Obviously Ian Lightfoot had no problems with non-hetronormative relationships. He was a kind person in general and had never seen the reasoning behind denying love. He swore his mother and Corey had a thing for each other sometimes. He had known about different sexual identities for a while, but had never thought about applying any to himself. It wasn't that he'd assumed he was straight or anything; he just hadn't really cared either way. Now he did.

He knew he had been in love with Basil Glendower since that first day at the bus stop. There was no other word to describe the complete joy, warmth, and excitement he felt each time they caught one another's eyes. He told his mother and Barley, and they were simply ecstatic. Ian wasn't surprised; he knew he was so lucky to have such a supportive family.

Nothing much changed in his and Basil's relationship. They still spent hours talking and working on projects and playing games. Ian wasn't much for physical contact besides hand-holding, which they did in each other's houses and in secluded parks. Ian didn't want to hold hands in public, and he didn't know why. Well, actually he did, but he didn't want to admit it to himself or anyone: he was afraid of what others would think or do or say if they saw them, and he was furious at himself for it. And it wasn't just fear of Gremory, though he played a large role. In fact, just a few days before the stargazing confession, Gremory had accosted Ian after school. He had been on his way to Eudora's house with some papers they needed for a project when Gremory had appeared from around a corner and marched directly for him. Ian wasn't cowardly enough to run away, and held his ground rather firmly, which he was proud of himself for. Gremory's harassment had never been violent after all, intimidating as it was. Gremory came right up to him and said dangerously quietly, "You've been spending a lot of time with that Basil-kid, haven't you?"

Ian didn't know how to respond, so he remained quiet.

"I need you to do something for me. Tell 'im to quit making me look like a fool, huh?"

Ian said slowly, carefully, "Maybe you should stop saying awful things then." He was very proud of himself for a split second, before Gremory grabbed his shoulder roughly and yanked him around the side of the school. He pushed him hard against the wall, and Ian only barely prevented his head from slamming too hard against the brick, though he still knew there'd be a good-sized lump.

Gremory leaned in close, his breath smelling like the old pizza from the cafeteria. "I don't think you understand. I hate being made to look dumb, and that Basil keeps doing it." He emphasized the next bit. "If. He. Doesn't. Stop, You. Will. Get. Hurt. Get it?" Ian nodded weakly. "Good." Gremory gave him another shove and stalked away.

Ian shakily gathered the papers he had dropped and hurried off to Eudora's.

He didn't tell Basil to stop for two reasons: 1) he knew Basil would figure out why he had asked and go to confront Gremory himself, and Ian didn't want him to get hurt, and 2) privately, he viewed it as an act of bravery, to quietly stand up against wrong on his own. He didn't tell his family because he wanted to keep some semblance of personal pride, to think he could deal with his classmates by himself.

At one point, he did wonder why Gremory didn't pick on Basil himself. As he viewed another of the verbal rows between the two in class, however, he had his answer. For while Gremory talked loudly and tried to assert himself, Ian could see desperation in his eyes. Gremory knew Basil was confident and could talk circles around him. He knew he wasn't vulnerable. And it disgusted Ian to know how Gremory thought about him in turn.

o-o-o-o-o-o

To celebrate their second month of dating (or whatever they called it, it still seemed like such a foreign term) and fifth month since meeting, Basil and Ian went out, together, to the Round Table Pizzeria near the town's center. Ian was nervous, which luckily Basil found endearing, and he spilled two cups of water in a row. To calm him, Basil took hold of both of his hands and held them tightly across the table. It worked. They had an enjoyable evening, and Ian was reminded of how lucky he was to have such great friends, a supportive family, and Basil himself. They had reclasped hands at the end of their meal and were talking quietly. Basil leaned a bit forward and Ian came to meet him. They were in a booth near the back of the restaurant, so it didn't feel improper when Basil gently touched his forehead to Ian's, pale green hair mixing with blue. "Is this okay?" Basil asked.

"Yes," Ian replied. They held it for only a moment or two and then separated, smiling wide. Ian, a touch abashed, glanced about the restaurant. And he froze. There, standing by the entry, scowling fiercely and looking like he'd been watching for a while, was Gremory himself. As soon as he was sure Ian had made eye contact with him, he whisked out the door before Basil saw him.

Basil noticed Ian's consternation. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Ian said quickly. "I just, uh, remembered I've got a history essay due tomorrow that I forgot about. Yeah."

Basil laughed. "And you're usually so organized!"

"Ha, yeah," Ian chuckled weakly. They left quickly after that, and Ian hurried home alone.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Ian lived the next day like a dead man walking. He glanced furtively wherever he went, but ominously, Gremory wasn't anywhere to be seen, not even in his classes. Ian wouldn't put it past him if Gremory had skipped for the sole reason of making Ian uneasy. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his nervousness, so he avoided all of his friends, Basil included. When school ended, he headed straight home, and Gremory didn't accost him. He was planning on just staying in his room all night, but sometime around 8 o'clock, he discovered he didn't have his wallet; he had left it back at the pizzeria the night before.

He sent a quick text to Basil (who had texted him many times asking if he was feeling okay) saying he had left his wallet at the pizza place and would text him when he got back. Without a goodbye, he grabbed his backpack, slipped out of the house, and headed towards the Round Table Pizzeria.

o-o-o-o-o-o

It wasn't busy at all when he got there, and he ran right inside up to the hostess's stand. They had his wallet, and he pocketed it quickly and turned to leave. As soon as he stepped out the door, he felt several rough hands grab him and pull him a short ways to an old alleyway on the deserted end of the parking lot before throwing him roughly down. Town center wasn't the nicest place, and there were several alleyways and areas people refused to go near, like the one Ian was now in.

Stunned, Ian glanced at his assailants. Impossibly (but really, not surprisingly) there stood Gremory, as well as two of Gremory's "friends" (more like cronies) he couldn't tell apart.

"I know you saw me last night," Gremory said menacingly, "And now I know why you refused to tell Basil off." He laughed a joyless laugh. "You're queers! You are the freaks Ms. Flamel was talkin' about that day in class. No wonder you both got upset."

"I think any decent person would have got upset." Ian said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Gremory asked, dangerously softly.

"I said, I think any decent person would have got upset! You're just an intolerant, prejudiced, bigot, and I'm not putting up with this anymore!" Ian turned to go, when he felt two pairs of hands grab his arms and whirl him around before marching farther down the alley. Ian writhed and struggled, but Gremory's friends were just as large and muscular as he was, and Ian really didn't stand a chance. After yanking his backpack off him, they pinned him against the back wall, one holding each arm. Gremory came slowly toward him, the orangey streetlamps creating a menacing backlit effect.

When he came close enough, Gremory whacked him across the face, open palmed. It hurt much worse than he'd anticipated, and his eyes watered profusely, but he didn't make any noise. Gremory frowned and cocked his leg back, driving it hard into Ian's shin. Again he didn't make a sound. He did, however, ask a question. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"

"Ha, you already had that chance. I told you, you coulda told Basil to cut out all his fancy comebacks and to stop making me look like a fool in front of the class, but you didn't, and now there's nothin' you can do." He paused, and grinned in a way that could only be described as evil. "Also, I just found out you're a gay, so now there's really no stopping me."

Ian leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. How could he deal with this maniac who was so convinced he was right? He couldn't, but he vowed to at least keep his composure. Perhaps it would show his courage, or at least protect Basil. The blows kept coming. A hit to his shoulder, rib, stomach. A punch that struck his cheek full-on, and one that probably broke his nose. And as each pummel became harder and harder to bear, Ian realized he made an awful mistake. The realization hit him with the force of any one of Gremory's punches: he shouldn't have tried to do this on his own. He was a classic victim of bullying. He'd been told over and over growing up to seek help if someone ever threatened him or another classmate, and what had he done? Nothing. It wasn't courage or bravery to bear this: it was stupidity. Stupidity that was possibly lethal and at the least very damaging. The shame of the realization made him hang his head in despair.

Gremory didn't stop, delivering a few more blows before slamming the knuckles of his hand into the side of Ian's head, causing the world to grow gray and fuzzy. Gremory's cronies could feel him go limp.

"Ah, did I knock 'im out?" Gremory asked with no remorse in his voice.

One of the cronies felt Ian's pulse. "Yeah, seems like it." They dropped him to the ground and waited for him to wake up, when they heard a voice from the other end of the alley.

"What do you think you're doing?!" cried a concerned and frantic Basil upon seeing what was happening down that dark alleyway.

"Oh good, it's you," growled Gremory menacingly, as he and his two friends began stalking down towards him.

Basil may have been bigger than Ian, but he still wasn't anything close to being able to fight Gremory, let alone two of his friends as well. Nevertheless, Basil's fiery nature won out, as well as his concern for Ian, and he held his ground, dropping into a fighting stance as the three goons approached, though the fear was clear in his eyes.

"Oo, good, this one's a fighter!" laughed Gremory derisively. "That one sure wasn't." He gestured behind him to where the crumpled form of Ian still lay. "Just stood there and almost cried. I'd heard you gays were soft, but that's just ridiculous."

Basil's eyes widened. So Gremory had found out he and Ian were together. Was this why they had beat Ian up? Why Gremory had been extra awful recently? Why Ian had acted so strangely? He braced himself as they got closer.

Ian chose this moment to wake up. He opened his eyes blearily, and was suddenly, overwhelmingly aware of 1) how much his body hurt, and 2) that Gremory and his gang were moving away from him and towards a very familiar figure at the other end of the alley. He was suddenly hyper-alert. They were going to do something awful to Basil if he didn't take action right now. As the two cronies grabbed hold of Basil's arms despite the latter's best efforts (though he did seem to be visibly panicking), Ian spotted his backpack, lying a few feet away. He got an idea, and tried to shuffle-crawl his way towards it. Movement felt like torture, and his eyesight started going fuzzy again, but he managed to grab the bag, and from it, took out his wand. Just as his field of vision went fully black, he aimed the wand at Gremory and his cronies, shouted "Magnora gantuan!" and blacked out.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He woke up in some white room. He opened his eyes slowly, slowly. He was in a bed, a hospital bed, and beside him was Basil, Barley, and his mom. They were chattering softly, but stopped once they saw he was awake. "How are you feeling?" his mom asked softly.

"Sore," he replied, with a flickering smile. They all laughed quietly. To his surprise, Barley was crying. "Are you okay?" Ian asked him.

"It's just… you look like dad did, when, you know..."

Ian's breath caught a bit in his chest. He shook his a bit to clear it, but the movement triggered a wave of pain. After wincing, he asked Basil what had happened.

"When you didn't text later like you said you would, I got worried. You'd been acting distracted all day, and there are some parts of town center that aren't exactly safe, you know? So I biked down and saw Gremory's car in the pizzeria parking lot. When I took a look around, I heard some voices and uh," he winced, "punches, coming from the alley. Well, I assume you remember the next bit?"

Ian's grimace answered for him.

"Well, then you cast your spell, and it worked!" Despite the circumstances, Basil was still impressed with the display of magic. "They shrunk! Right there in front of me! So then I just picked them up by the backs of the shirts, ran across the parking lot into the pizza place, and called 911 and your mother after putting Gremory and his friends into a takeout bag." His triumphant retelling stalled a bit, and he said more gravely, "And then I went back to the alley. When I saw you, crumpled so small all the way at the other end, not moving, I thought- I thought…" He trailed off, and Ian reached over to pat his hand to show he didn't have to keep going. They were all a little teary at this point.

His mother joined in. "Why did this happen, Ian? How long has it been going on? The bullying?" she asked breathlessly, heartbrokenly.

Ian looked at her, then glanced down sadly. "It happened because he was a maniac I thought I could reason with on my own, and it's been happening for," he paused to think, "five months now."

His mother gasped smally. He jumped in to reassure her. "It wasn't violent, really. I didn't get beat up before today. I just- I thought it would be best to deal with it myself. It would keep everyone safe and I would prove to myself that I can be strong, even in everyday situations. Obviously, I see now I was wrong." He glanced up and met Barley in the eye. "It's just, you're not scared of almost anything!" Turning to Basil he added, "And you too. You're so brilliant and confident, and I thought if I could deal with my own problems, I might be a bit more like that too. But I think Gremory was counting on that. Counting on the fact that I wouldn't go to anyone."

"Ian," Barley said, taking one of his hands, "I may not be scared of much, but that doesn't mean I don't have my own problems. And I go to mom and you with them. Remember a week ago when I was having doubts about the future? Who did I tell, huh? Who helped me out?"

"Me," Ian answered, smiling softly.

"Exactly, and that's just the most recent example." Barley exhaled. "Look, I'm always gonna be here for you, and you've got to remember it doesn't make you weaker to talk to someone; it makes you stronger."

They talked for a bit longer, before a nurse made them leave so Ian could rest. He stayed in the hospital just one more day, and found out he had a broken nose, rib, and moderate concussion, and had reinjured the shin he hurt fighting that stone dragon eleven months ago.

Gremory and his cronies did go to jail. It wasn't a hard battle, given the witness (Basil) and the nature of the injuries. As Gremory was being led out of the courtroom by the police, Ian took Basil's hand and clutched it tightly. He held it so Gremory could see. He merely scowled.

As he healed, Ian had plenty of time to think. To think about what being strong meant to him now, and how his two big ordeals had compared. For while the first, a grand quest that happened eleven months ago, felt more exciting and fanciful, the one he was still recovering from was nothing if not grounded in reality. And while it did have poor decisions, guilt, and lots of pain, he'd gained a truer and more realistic view of himself, and (glancing over at Basil, still sitting beside him) something else too.

Disclaimer: all unoriginal characters are property of Pixar Animation Studios.