Chapter Twelve: Words About Words
It was always frustrating pretending to be a human. He did it every day back home, sure, but it was never for non-stop, week-long intervals like he was doing now. And what a tiresome week it had been. Naoya found himself thinking of Remus, Anders, and Mabel more often than he liked, but it was never without interruption. Naoya was never alone here. He couldn't use his powers because there was always someone watching him; whether it was Lt. Washington on his heels, or the seemingly deadpan Renkotsu watching him from afar, at best he was left alone with Sokka, but he was never left alone with just Dipper. He wasn't quite sure at their first meeting, but it didn't take long for Naoya to be more than certain that this Dipper was the same Dipper that Mabel spoke of. And it was Dipper who Naoya needed to speak to—privately.
But the older Firestarters were beginning to trust him more, and when Sokka had tripped out the door to go hunting with Wash earlier that morning he knew the opportunity had finally come. He just had to wait until Dipper was awake enough to talk about it.
"Dipper," he spoke urgently, catching attention of the tween after they had cleaned up from breakfast. "Listen: I have to talk to you."
"What, to me?" Dipper half-laughed. "Okay, what about? It's not the bathroom thing, is it? Because I finally got promoted from latrine duty thanks to you, and I really don't want to-"
"It has nothing to do with that," Naoya pushed—although the psychic bristled internally at the reminder of his "assigned duties." Did they really think he wasn't good for anything else around here? "Um, let's... go someplace a little more private," he added, giving a sideways motion of his head in the general direction of Ren's workshop and Dipper's brow lowered as he finally caught on.
"Uh, alright," he said cautiously. "Lead the way."
Dipper followed Naoya from the central chamber through the archway that lead to their room. Huffing as he walked, Naoya avoided the bodily temptation to just run and save time, but experience allowed him a strange sense of calm that stood in stark contrast to his beating heart. With Sokka and Wash on their hunting expedition and Ren cloistered away in his workshop, theoretically he had plenty of time and needn't rush. Perhaps it was the weight of his words pushing against his steps. They came to their cramped, little room in no time and Naoya looked down either end of the hall before finally entering.
"So what's this about?" Dipper asked. His arms were crossed, and his shoulders were squared off.
"I want to show you something," the psychic said. "I've had to keep it from the others, but I feel like you might be okay with it."
Dipper frowned curiously. "What is it?"
Naoya pouted, thinking. He scooted over on his bunk and patted the spot next to him, in which Dipper sat, albeit with great reluctance. The boy's legs didn't quite reach the floor, and Naoya remembered what it was like to be so small at such an age. That only made him feel worse. He held up a finger and smiled, urging Dipper to watch carefully. With a wave of his hand, the door to their room shut by itself.
It didn't take but a second for Dipper to catch on. "Telekinesis!" Dipper whispered with a gasp. He looked up at Naoya. "Magic?"
"Less magic, more science." How familiar a remark. At least Dipper picked it up faster than Andy.
"A mutant," came Dipper's next guess, and Naoya cringed at the word but nodded in acknowledgement. "Like, an actual mutant? With special genes and everything?"
"My people are called EGO," Naoya emphasized. "But, yes. Genetically and physically we're similar to humans, but there's enough genetic difference for us to pretty much be a different species."
Dipper stared at the floor, his mouth pressed thin in a small, thoughtful line. "Why hide that at all?"
"Wash held a gun to me the first time she saw me, and Renkotsu has this thing about non-human things." Naoya gave a vague, uneven but negative-implying shrug. "Plus I got the feeling that you're the only one here who will believe me."
"I mean, Sokka talks about people with elemental kinesis— the 'benders'—all the time-"
"'Hi, I'm Naoya and I have freaky mind powers that don't rely on an element! I'm also an empath! Boo! Spooky feelings!'" Naoya cheerfully, mockingly explained while wiggling his fingers in the air, and Dipper couldn't help but crack a small grin at it. But Naoya's own smile faded as he held his next and most important point in mind. "Listen, Dipper," he went on, watching Dipper closely, "I didn't just bring you here to show you my powers - which, by the way, I hope will be between us for now?"
Dipper nodded.
"Okay," Naoya sighed, "good. I showed you my powers because I want you to know something about me that nobody else here does. Think of it as a show of good faith, because I don't think you're going to like what I'm about to say."
"Oh," Dipper frowned. He kicked his feet against the edges of the bed, swallowing something tacky. "Just—I mean, just spit it out. I can take it."
Naoya inhaled sharply. "So: about your sister..."
Dipper's eyes snapped wide open and he leaned back. "I never told you I had a sister."
"No, you didn't," Naoya nodded, fighting back the cringe he felt trying to form on his face as he pushed for his words. "She kinda... told me about you."
Dipper shot to his legs, rounding on Naoya. "You've seen her? You saw Mabel? Where is she, is she okay? How did you find her-where is Mabel? Where is she?!"
Naoya brought his hands up. "She's totally okay, Dipper," he soothed, but the boy would have none of it.
"You said your whole group was killed by balverines!" he screamed, and Naoya had to close his eyes and center himself as a wave of terror and despair met his senses.
"I lied, Dipper!" Naoya said loudly, himself standing with his arms outstretched. "I lied about that, I pretended that I didn't have powers - look, your sister is alive! Everything is fine! She's with the people I was traveling with, people who are probably looking for me! You're going to see her again!"
"You knew where she was," Dipper growled, shaking fists curled tightly and a snarl on his face. "You knew who she was! You knew all this time, and you didn't tell me!?"
Naoya took a breath and sat back down on his bunk with one leg crossed over his knee, trying to make his posture as lax as he could. "Shh! Let's not be so loud, you know Renkotsu is probably creeping around!" he hushedly urged Dipper to lower his volume. With an understanding frown, Naoya swallowed. "It's not like I could tell you right away. I know that I'd want someone to tell me right away, too, but-"
"But what, huh?!" Dipper's voice cracked with emotion and the boy heaved.
"But it's complicated. Sokka found me hanging in the woods and rescued me, and I could have gone back to the others then and there. But I didn't want to risk them getting hurt if you guys turned out to be people we really didn't want to get involved with! I used my injury to discover where you guys were and I meant to hightail out of here as soon as I got the chance—but I saw you and when I realized who you were, I knew I had to stay!"
"I don't want to hear it!" Dipper scathed. "You were the first person here other than Sokka who might actually have become friends with me. I've been here for a month, and nobody wants anything to do with me just because I'm a kid! But it turns out you weren't actually interested in becoming friends at all! You were just getting all chummy with me—with all of us— to help get your real friends in! You were spying on us all along! My own sister won't even speak to me, and I thought...!" Dipper's eyes disappeared below the brim of his hat. "You were just using me! You were nothing but a dirty spy!"
Naoya frowned. He didn't want to admit that the kid's words had stung a little in places Dipper couldn't even begin to fathom. "Okay, yes—sort of. Naoya is sort of a spy," he admitted, throwing his hands out defensively. "He's not here to cause you harm, but the opposite!"
Dipper put his hands to his forehead. "Okay, why are you talking in the third person? It's really not helping."
"Naoya Itsuki talks how he pleases, when he pleases," Naoya scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest in an insulted manner.
Dipper let out a frustrated growl, throwing his hands as he spoke: "I trusted you! And you lied to me about my own sister! Have you lied about everything you said to me?"
"No! Dipper, listen—you can throw Naoya under the bus now if you wanted to, okay? Naoya came clean about everything. Naoya even told you about his powers, and you are the only one here who knows! Okay? Naoya is sorry that it came down to something like this, but all the secrets are out. Naoya promises."
Dipper let out a slow, shuddering sigh as tension in his shoulders was forced away. He glared at Naoya for a long time, but his breathing soon began to slow and although his expression remained grim, his voice was not as searing. "How is Mabel? Is she... okay?"
"Mabel is... upset," Naoya replied gingerly. "Whatever happened between you guys is still fresh for her. I didn't tell you right away because I wasn't sure it was my place. What's going on here is personal, between siblings. Trust me: as a twin brother myself, I'd be upset with me too. But I haven't lied about anything else."
Dipper's arms were crossed, and his frown was no less fierce. "I wish I could believe that."
"We are all in this together now," Naoya said simply. "Trust me or don't, but I promise you: no more spying."
"It makes sense, though," Dipper went on, largely ignoring Naoya's words. "That you would want to make sure we weren't going to turn on you before saying anything."
"Well, I mean," Naoya could see Mabel's cleverness was a family trait. "It wasn't as neatly done as that. You see, the others? They kind of don't know where I am. Finding you was an accident, actually. Sokka sort of stumbled out of the woods and spotted me. And when my companions do find me, they're probably going to have some words for me."
"Oh." Dipper put one wrist behind his head, and he chewed he inside of his cheek. "Is Mabel with other mutants—other EGO?"
"Nah," Naoya said with a shake of his head. "They wish they could be EGO, though. All they have is, like, magic stuff."
"Magic?" Dipper's eyes were aflame with curiosity again, and Naoya laughed. He felt a droplet of relief splash against his heart.
"Yeah, it's really old fashioned. They didn't even know what to make of me when I told them my powers aren't magic. They're probably looking for me," he said, and he unconsciously sent his thoughts beyond the borders of the Vault in search of any familiar presences. There were none.
Naoya said nothing more to Dipper about the magi, silently keeping thoughts of them to himself as guilt blanketed their images in his mind. As much as it had been a ploy to bring him here, Naoya knew that letting Sokka carry him here (even if it was needed) left no plant trail for his companions to follow. And now, he couldn't leave or else risk suspicion—losing all of the reluctant trust he had gained in the time that had passed. All in all, Naoya had gambled and won, but the taste was somewhat bitter. All he could do now was hope that the others would find him, and if he knew them at all, they had not stopped searching. Something told the psychic that they would be reunited soon, and he held onto that.
The approach to the Firestarter's base was silent. Perhaps no one dared speak, or there was nothing to be said. But it mattered little, because the journey was painfully short. As the magi took care to eliminate their plant trails behind them, they could only brood on the fact that, through all the searching they had done, for the Firestarters to have been so close all this time was something of a slap in the face.
The closer they came to the base, the stronger the smell of the sea became. Wash and Sokka stuck to a strict path and moved fast, leaving little time to pause for visuals. But the forest continued to thin the further they went, and as they came to a clearing they saw something in the distance that made Zacharie's words sing: a massive wall of angry red, jutting out from the ground like a great pillar severed at the base. A mesa, proud and defiant in the wake of the sea beyond; the cliffs jutted high into the air and the crest was covered in a layer of green where the forest sought to reclaim stolen soil. There was no question that this is where they were going.
The trees swallowed the view of the mesa as they approached it, climbing down the gentle slopes and crossing several waterfalls in their descent towards the shoreline. But like a great thunderhead approaching in the distance, the closer the path lead to the waves the more the red wall rose above them to dominate the view between the boughs. The longer they examined the approaching mountain, though, the more bizarre it's appearance became: it was as though the mesa had been scooped from another continent entirely and dropped from the sky, and the pillars of the same red stone jutting throughout the local forest had splintered off and speared the ground through sheer force of the impact. The native stones were black, brown, and gray—far more appropriate to a forest of pines than the fiery hues of this desert stone.
The soft floor of the woods gave way to a path of gravel and sand that inclined once more, leading them to the base of the red pillar and to a metallic, gear-shaped door sunk deep into the rockface. It's protective black primer was peeling here and there, and in the center of the gear the number 17 was still visible despite years of sun bleaching and corrosive winds.
"Vault-Tec," Anders muttered aloud, his head tilted near his shoulders as he struggled to read the small, beveled letters found upside down on the outermost rim of the door. "What is—?"
Wash held out her hand as they approached, continuing by herself to the door and withdrawing a small key from her bag. Shaped like a star, five silver spokes radiated out in circular fashion from a center point much like those for directing hot and cold water into a sink. And, peculiarly, it was nearly as small. Remus felt a crease form between his eyes as he watched the woman curiously—surely she couldn't open such a massive door with something so...?
But the Lieutenant, oblivious or perhaps purposefully ignorant of their stares, slid the handle into a predesignated groove at hip-level until there was an audible click. With little effort, she turned the spokes: once to the left, and then thrice to the right, each time the door responding with another pop or click at her touch. Immediately, Wash stepped back and all eyes were drawn to the handle as it spun out of control with a mechanical whirring noise. From the center mechanism of the Vault door, gears and whistles began to grind and scream, and several loose pebbles were dropped from somewhere up above as the ground rattled softly and the multi-ton gear was dragged backwards. It disappeared from view after only a moment as it suddenly rolled sideways into a groove built into the mountain. Vault 17 was open.
"Whoa," Mabel breathed against her better judgement, though Wash caught the child's awe and allowed herself a small grin.
"Mhm," she sounded in agreement, unhitching the handle and indicating for them to follow her inside.
The antechamber could best be described as 'industrial'. Cold, dark metal stairs and walkways were illuminated by eerie rotating lights, and every footstep echoed through the remains of what had obviously been a natural cave long before human intervention. Chains hung from pipes in the ceiling, some of them venting steam and others humming with a deep, buzzing groan. This was neither Dwarven nor any technology of the Qunari, and the lack of magic here left a strange feeling running down Anders' spine as he stared at the artificial lights. The mage eyed them warily, feeling his skin tingle as he walked past as though they were filled with electricity and his mana sang in response. Justice was a coiled spring just under his ribs, ready to jump into action if need be in this strange place. Anders looked to Remus, who, although similarly awestruck, did not appear concerned. He remained silent.
"Is this some sort of bomb shelter against the Soviets?" Remus asked, his eyes swiveling to take everything in. The structure was American, as evidenced by the decals of stars and stripes along the walls at varying intervals. It was strange and reeked of sophistication, unlike any modern technology save perhaps the fantasies on the telly such as Doctor Who, or Star Trek. No Muggle could have done this—at least, not one from home.
Wash had cocked him a brow. "The Cold War ended over one hundred fifty years ago," she said, confirming Remus' suspicions without realizing. "Don't tell me," the woman went on: "You're not from the 22nd century?"
Remus and Mabel nodded, though Wash did not appear the least bit surprised.
"I don't even need to ask you," she said to Anders, pointing to his medievalist robes. "To be honest, I don't think this Vault is from any time we know, either. It looks like something from the American 1950's, but the technology is far too advanced. It doesn't fit with any history I know of, in fact. If I had to guess, it came from somewhere else—just like all of us."
Behind them, the door ground to a close once more, sealing itself from the outside with a loud, angry hiss. They came to the end of the antechamber and passed into a well-lit hallway, fluorescent lights buzzing from the ceiling as identical metal doors lined the hallway heading deeper into the Vault. Whites and off shades of gray, the hallway was reminisce of a doctor's office and the air grew noticeably cooler as they went further in.
"How did you find this place?" Anders found himself asking as they walked. He squinted in the unnatural light, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the strangeness of the facility and how very out of place he seemed. "How did any of this even come to be?"
"No idea," Wash returned simply. "It was here before any of us got here. Nobody knows how old it is."
"It's weird," Sokka added. "Nobody could even open the Vault when I first got here. There were so many people trying to figure out a way to get inside because they thought this might be their way home."
"It wasn't, though."
Sokka met Remus' gaze. "No. When they finally cracked it, it was abandoned. We've had to start over from scratch."
Anders perked his ears up. "How many of you are there?"
Wash slowed to a stop, her hands hesitating over a the knob of a door marked 'POWER.' "Too few," she sighed. "You must have come through the town to trigger that trap?"
"Yes," said Remus. "It looks as though no one has been there for a hundred years."
"I wish that were true," Wash muttered. "We had a settlement there for a few years, or, rather, it was already there and people just sort of populated it. But one by one people were killed or abducted. None of us knew when we arrived about the balverines, mostly due to the fact that they left us alone for the longest time. Occasionally, people would disappear—but the things out there in the woods? Everyone could understand the danger of going out alone. The balverines knew we were there, but they didn't often attack. They were just waiting. ...If they don't hunt you for food, they take you. You become one. Before we knew it, whole families were gone. We abandoned the town because we had to. By chance of luck we cracked the seal on the Vault and the few of us who were left managed to stay protected inside. The forest took over as we retreated; the last of it advanced so fast that we couldn't even bury our dead. It was unreal.
Wash paused, her jawline swaying left and right as she fought for her words. "You destroyed one of our perimeter traps during your search. You made us more vulnerable. And," she said, her black eyes hard and fierce, "we can't afford the resources to keep you, under our circumstances. We were out hunting when we found you, and we lost good game because of this. I have no problems with you staying provided you can pull your own weight where it's needed. We could use people. But if you can't, then you need to leave."
At that, Wash plucked a ring weighted with multiple keys from her belt and unlocked the door. She slung it open with an aggravated tug, disappearing beyond with a look colder than the steel with all eyes following her wake.
"We've lost a lot of good people," Sokka offered slowly, after a shocked pause. "Wash takes it really hard. She helped build the town when there were hundreds of people here. But we're at war, and she makes a lot of the hard choices that come with it. Don't take it personally..."
None of the others dared speak themselves. But before the grim nature of the moment could consume them, Wash reappeared, stuffing the jangling key ring back into one of her belt loops with an annoyed glare when it didn't work the first time.
"Come on," she said smoothly.
At the end of the hallway there was a wide, arched opening that lead somewhere Anders couldn't quite see. Hanging from the crest of the arch, however, was something more worthy of the eye: brown and black, with a pair of long, ragged scars down the center, the pelt of a balverine waved only sightly in an artificial breeze from the ventilation system. Expertly prepared and hung with clear intent, the message was powerful. The minimal scent of smoke and iron wafted into the hallway from the room ahead on the backs of unintelligible voices murmuring.
"Naoya!" Sokka called as he lead the way through one archway and into the chamber, and his now triumphant voice echoed: "Hey Naoya! Look what we found!"
"Was it a restaurant, so you can stop trying to feed me that gross warm white stuff?" Naoya's almost too-cheerful voice responded casually.
"'Gross, warm white stuff'...?" Anders whispered through a sour grimace.
"Yeaaah," Sokka gave an idle stretch. "I tricked him into eating some bugs. They're good protein." He nodded, smirking lightly. "He thought it was rice, it was hilarious."
Naoya was waiting for them when they reached the central chamber, sitting beside a boy on a circle of couches set into the floor. But rather than looking relieved, Naoya's eyes widened and his cheeks paled. His surprise was forced into an awkward smile as Mabel ran forward and yelled his name.
"Naoya~!"
"Mabel!" The boy beside Naoya went equally as pale, and he threw himself over the couch and began to climb up to her.
Mabel stopped sharply in her tracks. "Dipper?"
"Naoya!" Anders demanded, stepping forward largely unaware of the siblings. "What happened? Why didn't you come back?"
"Uh," the teenager began, but his gaze was fixed on Mabel and her look of pure tension.
"Naoya?" Before the teen realized it, Remus had come to his side down on the couch effectively cutting him off from the others.
"Sokka!"
There was a sudden pause in which everyone stopped and all eyes pinned the warrior. Sokka's cheeks turned slightly pink.
"I thought we were saying names," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to make himself smaller.
"Dipper," Mabel said, carefully backing towards Anders. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going away with Grunkle Ford!"
Dipper's sneakers slapped against the concrete as he rushed to her, stopping just shy of where she stood beside the mage who towered over them both. "I came looking for you! Mabel, there's no way I would ever leave you behind, okay? You don't know what's happened in Gravity Falls while you were gone—Mabel, I'm so sorry! When I came through Bill's bubble to look for you, I had no idea that this is where he sent you. I've been here for two months, Mabel, and I—"
"Two months?" Mabel's gasp was quiet and horrified. "Dipper, I—I just got here a week ago! After I ran away I fell through a crazy space portal and these guys found me in the woods. I haven't even been here that long!"
"But—," Dipper blurted, his fists grabbing at his white and blue baseball cap, "—but... how is that even possible? I don't understand, I"— he glanced wildly to Naoya, who stared back at him as if to confirm a point—"This is totally weird... I... I'm just really happy to see you, sis," he said, his voice breaking. "I'm so glad I found you!"
"Bro-bro!" Mabel cried, rushing forward and embracing her brother. Tears flowed freely down her face. "You really mean that?"
Dipper broke away long enough to look her in the eye. "Yeah," he said. "I guess I got a taste of what it meant to be by myself. I don't want to lose you over something stupid like that again." He paused long enough to squeeze Mabel as tightly as he could, before glancing up and addressing Anders: "Thank you... for, uh—for saving my sister," he said.
Anders smiled. "I don't think it was us who did the saving."
But Anders' head turned sharply as Remus made a disturbing observation: "Surely this is not all of you?" he said, looking between Wash and Sokka. "Just three survivors?"
"Four," Sokka corrected him, mentally rehearsing names against his finger count. "You haven't met Renkotsu yet. He's our mechanic."
"I don't believe it," Anders breathed. "I saw the maps—all the fires surrounding the Oasis; and the power of your traps, the size of the town—this is all that remains?"
Wash's black ponytail reflected overhead light as she turned headlong to Anders. "What do you know of the fires? And what map are you talking about? You know about Reaver?"
Anders glowered. "Know about him? We barely escaped him with our lives!"
"Then you have information we need," a cold voice broke through the dialogue. "And none of you are going anywhere until we have it."
When the new arrivals turned to look, they spotted a man watching intently in the mouth of another grand archway. He was of Asian descent, with a shaved head and a pair of royal purple tattoos running down his face. His silk kimono was royal blue patterned with circles of a grey-blue and bordered with white.
"Ren," Sokka blurted. "We found these guys—"
"Burning one of our traps," Renkotsu said, his eyes narrowing to near nothing. "I know. I saw the smoke. For the damage they have caused, I certainly hope that they have information of note. Especially for their sake."
"No," Wash said sharply, coming to stand between Renkotsu and the others. She pointed at the newcomers. "Look—you pull your weight here, or you leave. That's the deal. If you stay, tomorrow you can reassemble one of the apartments on the lower level," she finished loudly, looking around at each of them in the room, "For now, we have to worry about what happens when Reaver realizes that you're with us."
"Right now I don't think Reaver will do anything," Naoya said, and all eyes turned to him.
"What are you talking about?" Renkotsu demanded.
"The balverines turned on him." He spoke clearly, each syllable well-formed, as his strange amber eyes flicked to meet each of their faces. "For now he shouldn't be a problem."
"For now," Renkotsu blithely reiterated, obviously doubting the teenager's words.
"How do you know this?" Wash couldn't hide the surprised disbelief from her voice. "How can three people come out of there, unturned, and survive the woods long enough to find us? What makes you so special?"
"Nothing. They let us go," Naoya said with a shrug that betrayed his innocent expression. "Sort of."
"Enough with the mysteries!" Renkotsu stepped forward, his eyes fierce and his face drawn. "The balverines do not 'let people go.' You are hiding something from us all, and we will have it before the night is through or I will make certain that you never see the light of day again!"
Wash pushed herself between Ren and the others, her arms outstretched. "Hey!" she shouted. "That's enough!"
"If you would just give me two seconds," Naoya pouted, glaring at Ren, "I would have told you."
"You would do well to tell us now," Ren practically snarled. His hands were drawn into fists, and though they were each given the distinct impression that he was not a man of close physical violence, there was a cost to being on his bad side.
"We would not have escaped at all if we were not able to strike a deal with them," Remus finally said, his hands up. "The balverines sought to turn on Reaver, and we were able to work with their alpha and come to an arrangement."
"The big fluffy white one?" Sokka had gone pale.
"Everyone, sit down! We have to talk this through and I'm not going to stand here and babysit, so everyone better move quick or else!" Once Wash had finished shouting, she pointed to the central ring and watched as each of them reluctantly gathered there under the low hum of the chimney ventilation. "There," she breathed. "Everyone just shut up and we'll take turns! Is that okay with you, or are you going to keep acting like a bunch of kids?"
Mabel and Dipper looked at each other, but remained silent.
Wash took a moment to collect herself before turning to Anders, Remus, and Naoya, who had seated themselves together on the opposite side of the circle. "Look: it's been a long road getting here. Renkotsu has... a right to be demanding, but not to demand," she finished, glancing at him.
"We can provide you with whatever we may know that would help," Remus replied. "Though I daresay our time there was less than productive."
"And we have questions of our own," Anders put forth, an idea to which Wash reluctantly agreed.
"An exchange," she said. "Information for information. That seems reasonable, under the circumstances. And we'll go first. What do you want to know?"
The Trio exchanged looks. Anders was the first to speak.
"For only the four of you to remain, there must be something about this place that's important. Have you been able to work out a way for us all to return home?"
The answer could be seen in their faces.
"Do you think we would be here now if we knew how to get out?" asked Renkotsu.
"Not with Reaver and his balverines in our way," Sokka said. He crossed his arms, his eyes seeing things much father away than any of them could know. Longing pulled on his features, and he suddenly seemed older.
"Our fight with Reaver comes first," Wash said. "We can't do anything with him in our way. Those fires you saw on the map were our attempts to circle his Oasis, to burn the trees surrounding it so that the balverines couldn't use them to jump us. And we hoped that they would continue into the Oasis itself, and maybe burn the thing to the ground. We scattered them out strategically, hoping Reaver would think that we would never set fires so close to home."
"That's how we found you, though," Naoya said. "We cut through the center of the fires. We figured we'd either meet you when you started the next one, or we'd find you some other way."
"Not entirely," said Remus. "We ended up primarily lost. We could never have found this place on our own, not for another while at least. We were lucky to have found someone in the woods who told us where we might find you, Naoya, and then we stumbled across the trap by accident."
Renkotsu stared. "Outside help?"
"A merchant," Mabel suddenly perked up from where she sat kicking her dangling legs against the couch she shared with Dipper. "He took four cat stickers, and told us which way to go."
Wash pursed her lips, an act which did nothing to help her look less stressed. "This 'merchant.' Did he have a cat mask, or one that looks like a frog?"
Mabel gasped. "How did you know?"
"That's the creepy guy who knocked on the Vault door last week," Sokka said doggedly. "He tried to sell us wire cutters and a saw. ... And he had a really cool knife that I wanted, but in no way was it worth my boomerang."
Both Wash and Ren gave a startled glance his way.
"What?" Sokka shrugged with a nervous laugh. "I thought it was cool."
"You would have traded for a useless knife?" Renkotsu scathed.
"You only say that because you never go outside," Sokka retorted, and Ren's frown deepened.
Wash rolled her eyes. "That man is dangerous," she said. "I don't know how he survives in those woods alone, nor how he seems to always have exactly what we need. I wouldn't trust him if I were you. There's something very off about him. Now—our turn: how did you survive Reaver?"
The three of them recounted the tail of Reaver, of his Control Crystal, and how Alastor brought them to the Oasis to help him perform a coup. They described their theft of the Crystal and it's deliverance to Alastor, and how they ended up fleeing the city under attack from the balverines who were still loyal to the Lord. Remus listened intently for the last part, for he still had only his memories of Nadine and the tug of the moon on his bones. To hear the tale like this was horrifying, and a sense of guilt strummed hard against his insides. The other two conveniently left out everything about werewolves, psychics, and mages—werewolves in particular, despite that being the foundation of the alliance with Alastor. And Remus breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't been aware he'd been holding.
"So Reaver is dead," Wash breathed. "He's really gone."
"We can't know for sure," Anders corrected. "We never determined whether he was dead or just unconscious on the floor."
"That's good enough," Ren said, and for the first time all night he looked—pleased. If he could look pleased. "Even if the leader did not end up killing him, those balverines probably ate him, or worse."
"So what will you do now?" Remus asked, leaning forward. The air was cool in the room, and in his simple shirt he found it difficult to sit still.
There was something of a drawn silence, as if the others had never considered that this day would come for real.
"I guess... we work on trying to go home," Wash said with a sigh and a hand to the back of her neck. "I don't know. I wasn't prepared for this kind of news. Is your alliance still in place? We know that Reaver had a huge library in it, and that would be a good place to start if we were going to even contemplate beginning researching a way out of here."
But Sokka stood up then. "You've got to be kidding. We're not making friends with the big, fluffy, white monster who tried to eat me! Four times!" He held out four fingers for emphasis.
"What would you have us do?" Wash asked. Her voice was not angry, but her shoulders were tense. "We can't survive in the wilderness for very long as it is now. We stayed here because we have no place to go, this could be our way to get answers."
Ren snorted, a bitter sound splashed with skepticism. "That is awfully idealistic of you, Lieutenant."
"I would think you would be the one to jump at an opportunity like this, Renkotsu. You are the most vocal of us about wanting to leave this place."
"But I do not want it so badly that I walk into a potential trap willingly," the mechanic breathed, and each of them felt how low the blow had been. Sokka visibly cringed.
Ren continued: "We don't even know who these men are. We can't confirm their statements. They could be agents of Lord Reaver who have been sent here to destroy us. It was incredibly convenient for the yellow-eyed boy to stumble in, supposedly injured, a week before the men—men who he claimed were all destroyed by balverines—destroy one of our traps in an attempt to bring us out. And now they are here, inside the Vault, with access to all of our supplies... and to us. And it is because of an idealistic notion that there are good people out there who want to do the right thing, when we have seen over and over again that if we do not take care of ourselves, Lieutenant, no one will."
Remus expected Wash to round on Ren for the look on her face. But although she stood to full height to face him as he sat, she did not approach him. "We tested them with the silver. They passed. They're not one of Reaver's."
"They may have passed your test," Ren stated, "but they have not passed mine."
Wash put her hands on her hips with a loud slapping sound. "And just what is your test? How would you possibly test them? What could you do better here, Ren? Because I'm the one who leaves the Vault and risks her neck getting you information for your tests."
Ren snapped to his feet and for a flash of a second the two stood at odds, Wash glaring up at him as if daring him to fight her. She continued staring after him as he turned and stalked down the hall in a broody cloud. Once he had disappeared, Wash put her hands over her face, masking some sort of snorting hiss that was only revealed as a strangled laugh when her palms slid gently over her forhead and over her scalp. She blinked at the ceiling, turning in place for a half-second as she absorbed everything going on. "Alright, look," she said finally, her hands coming to rest on her hips, "there's clearly a lot that needs to be discussed. I'm not doing it all tonight. Let's get you some place to sleep for tonight, and come back in the morning. I have a splitting headache.
"I'll get some blankets," she said to Sokka. Her footsteps echoed into the towering ceiling as she left.
"You can have my bunk, Mabel," Naoya offered. "I was sleeping with Dipper and Sokka in their room."
The twins took the hint, immediately disappearing down the hall without so much as a sound. Both Remus and Anders stared: they had forgotten all about the children in the heat of things.
Sokka held himself by his elbows, frowning. "Sorry, guys. They're not usually like that. When we work, we make a good team."
"I believe you," Remus replied, standing and brushing his front despite nothing present. "Tensions are unusually high. This is our fault, if anything."
"Speak for yourself," Naoya chirped. "I was already here a week and doing fine without you." He had a cheeky twist in his lips that lightened the mood, but no one smiled.
Ten minutes later they were lead down another hall, to a whitewashed office with desks pushed to the walls on either side of the room. It had clearly been filled with cubicles once upon a time, though only a single one remained in the farthest corner. A water cooler that would never be privy to white-collar hearsay sat nearest the door, and Wash stood beside one of the desks to the left and waved them in when they arrived.
"Sorry about the accommodations, but on such short notice this is the best we could do."
Naoya looked around the room and scrunched his nose. "Can't we sleep on the couches? At least they're off the floor."
The Lieutenant sighed. "I would, but Ren is at least partially correct. This is safer," she said. "For everyone. We lock the door until morning so you can't do whatever Renkotsu thinks you might do, and maybe this blows over in the morning. Maybe we actually get to do something productive." She began to distribute military-looking, olive-green blankets and white pillows. There were thin foam mats of the same green color rolled up next to the water cooler. And next to them, a small box with a hastily scrawled "M.R.E." in black letters written on the front.
"But there's no bathroom...?" Naoya's voice rose as he spoke, turning the statement into more of a concerned question.
Wash pointed to the cubicle. "That's the best I can do. There's a bucket behind there."
Naoya looked appalled. "I've spent enough time using one of those. You actually have toilets—I don't think I can go back."
"Then hold it," Wash shrugged. And with that, she excused herself, taking Sokka with her. The door clicked as it was locked, and they were left alone in the silence.
"They can't do that," Naoya half-whispered, his face cross. "It's not right!
Remus turned to him, patting the side of his waist where his wand rested against his hip. "You know I can unlock the door?"
"And I can blast it down, but it's the principal," Naoya groaned.
"After what you put us through, I think perhaps you deserve something less than this." Anders folded his arms across his chest.
"I missed you too, Ando," Naoya said after a moment of silence, a sheepish smirk coming to his face as he looked up at Remus and Anders. "So let me guess: I'm grounded, right?"
"What do you think?" was all the mage replied.
"You sound mad," Naoya said. "But when you frown like that, I'm not sure."
"You left us no sign!" Anders snapped, his hands swinging out beside him. "For all we knew, you were dead! No warning, no word, no sign that you were alive! Why?"
Naoya shrugged. "If I hadn't let them 'save me', we would never have discovered them. I knew you guys would come after me, and I was right!"
"You could have told that boy that you were with others," Remus noted. "You could have brought him to the Windmill rather than going with him."
"I... guess I didn't think about that," Naoya said, pressing himself to one of the white walls, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "It was kinda spur of the moment. I saw an opportunity and took it, okay? It worked, just like I knew it would."
"You can't just take risks like that, Naoya!" said Anders. Anger pressed on his lips, but the mage found himself biting back the sensation of hurt over anything else. He hated to admit how worried he had actually been, and to see it so casually thrown aside... "We need to be a team to survive here. We were worried. We lost hope. If Mabel weren't with us, if she hadn't spotted Zacharie, I don't think we would have come for you. You need to understand how close this came to disaster."
"Well, it's not a disaster, is it," Naoya closed his eyes and let his head fall back. "And whose life did I put in danger, yours or mine? Besides, it's a risk I took to protect everyone. Now we're all here. Everyone's together, everyone's eaten, and everyone has a bed... or at least half a bed." He leered at the rolled-up mats. "I'm sorry if you wanted to keep wandering around in the woods for another month or two, Anders."
"And what if we hadn't found you in time?" Remus countered, coming to stand beside the teen.
Naoya glanced at him out of the side of his eyes. "In time for what?"
Remus twisted to lock eyes with Naoya. "How is your scar?"
Naoya's jaw tightened as his teeth clenched involuntarily. "It hurts," he hissed. "But I did get hung upside down in a tree, I think that would slow the healing process."
"You were healed completely before the trap," Anders replied, his tone once again gentle. "I don't do sloppy work. It shouldn't hurt anymore."
"And you've been here a week, away from danger. You look pale. If I had to guess, you're having trouble sleeping. You feel sick. And it is getting worse, isn't it?." Remus held his hands woven in front of him and he leaned forward. "You don't have to tell me that I'm right."
At his words, Naoya lost some more color. "S-so what?" he breathed. "I already told you, I'm not human. I'm fine."
"If you were fine, you would not be getting sick. We don't know the extent of the injury until the next full moon, and if you were here on that day, if, Merlin forbid, you do end up turning—Naoya, everyone here would die, or they would kill you as soon as look at you! Or worse—you could turn someone else!" At this last part, Remus himself lost color and he turned away slightly.
Naoya felt a pang in his gut that he couldn't identify. He hesitated, his mouth twisting this way and that as if he couldn't decide at which degree to rest his frown. "It's just stress," he finally said, shrugging. "Okay? This hasn't exactly been a vacation. I haven't been infected. I'm not a werewolf."
Remus sighed, looking haggard and tired. "You cannot take the chance that you might be wrong."
Naoya let out a frustrated moan, letting his knees drop and bringing them to his chest as he rested on the floor. "I am so glad you guys found me," he moaned.
Wordlessly, the other two set up the cots near the bare wall where Naoya sat so that their feet would face the door. They took their own seats on the new beds, testing the cushioning. Nobody was surprised—but all were thankful—when Remus was able to make them thicker and softer with the wave of his wand.
"You really ought to teach me those," Anders laughed. "We could carry things like these on our backs and just prepare them with magic."
"If we had a tent it would be better," said Remus. "Some of them are two floors and have running water, and they fold up into nothing."
Now it was both Naoya and Anders who looked impressed.
"I wish they had left us food," the mage murmured. "I think I could eat a horse."
Naoya strode to the box beside the cooler, jostling the contents with a small kick. "They did. This is military food," he explained. "You know, MRE? 'Meals Ready to Eat'," he added with a frustrated sigh after observing their blank expressions. "It's taped shut, though. Anyone got a knife?"
"The Lieutenant still has my dagger," Anders said, shaking his head. He patted his staff, which he had laid across the floor beside his bed. "I guess she doesn't have mages where she's from, or she would have realized this is more dangerous. She even saw us using magic."
"Muggles have a hard time understanding what they see when magic is involved. Not to mention, with everything going on, she may have forgotten. I can open the box, Naoya, give us a second." Remus made to stand, pushing away from the furniture only to hiss sharply and shake his hand.
Anders looked up urgently. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," Remus replied immediately, but Anders stood up and extended his palm.
"Let me see."
"It's just the cut from her dagger," Remus tried, waving him away. "I almost forgot about it until I pushed on it. It's nothing to lose sleep over."
But Anders took Remus' wrist, turning over the other man's hand in his own. The wound was a red line surrounded by blotched crimson and purple as inflammation and bruising fought for control. The skin was angry and raw, and towards the deepest section small blisters had welled to the surface. Anders couldn't help but look at his own wound, a simple red scab in comparison.
"They said silver burns balverines," Anders said with a frown, glancing pointedly up at his friend.
Remus nodded uncomfortably. "I'm not surprised. It might even kill them. I don't know. The Muggles in my homeland think silver kills werewolves," he went on, "only it doesn't. traditionally, it's only use is to 'seal' fresh werewolf bites—meaning it burns the open skin of the afflicted in high enough concentrations. In essence it cauterizes the wound. They mix powdered silver with dittany, a healing herb, and together they close the wound that normally wouldn't close using traditional healing because the wounds are cursed. I can use silver cutlery and such perfectly well, but the pure silver dagger opened the skin. It's just a burn."
Anders wanted to tell Remus how barbaric that sounded, though Thedas was no better. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me help you after full moon? You were sick for days. You don't need to suffer!"
Remus drew away, his instinct to flee pushing on his legs. But he held himself in place. "I simply didn't want to draw attention to it around the others," he said. But that did not appear to dissuade the mage, so he added weakly: "I'm used to going it alone, I suppose. It didn't feel right to ask."
Anders frowned. "I offered. I'm offering. No more of that—I'm going to heal this," he told Remus instead. The wizard made to say something but thought better of it. He simply opened his fingers, allowing Anders clear access to his wound. "What about you?" Anders asked Naoya as he worked. Pale blue light bounced off of his cheeks as he searched the boy's face.
"What about me?"
"You must have gone through their test, too. Is it alright?"
Naoya pulled up his pant leg to expose his ankle, where his cut from the silver blade just a small, residual line. "It's not infected, if that's what you mean," Naoya replied with a frown. He yawned, stretching like a cat before rolling onto his other side with his back to them. The implications of Anders' question were not lost on him. His cut had healed. That was a good thing, though, right?
Anders finished healing Remus' hand with a small sigh. The other man offered a small 'thank you', flexing his palm to test for residual hurt. Without speaking, he made for the box of food and ran his wand across the tape which split open at it's touch. Inside, there were plastic-wrapped packs with instructions on how to heat the meal.
"Hardly dodgy," Remus murmured, peeling open his chosen poison and sifting through. "There are M&M's in here, though."
Anders frowned. "Is that some sort of food?"
Remus tossed him the unopened candy pouch. "Try one."
"Mine's got a Snickers," said Naoya. "They all have a sweet thing in them, I think."
Suddenly Anders made a face. "It's—soft. But the outside is crunchy? It is... very sweet. People eat this regularly?" He made another face, as though he had bitten into a lemon, and he swirled the piece of chocolate across his tongue. "Maker's breath, I think—it melted? Is that supposed to happen?"
Naoya snorted and Remus bit back a very amused grin. "Do you like it?"
Anders shook the bag, rattling the candy inside as he eyed the contents suspiciously. Then, he popped another one into his mouth.
"Naoya," he said quietly, not looking at the teen. The hand that was not holding the pouch pressed against his temples, trying to force words to form in his head. "I just—did you really think that that was okay? You wandered off on your own. What if you had been seriously hurt?"
At first, Naoya's mouth had opened with another snarky comment. But the expression on the mage's face made him reconsider the message in the words. "Are you trying to tell me that you were worried, Ando?"
"Not at all," Anders said with a shrug. "I didn't carry your bleeding body out of Reaver's mansion because I cared about you."
Naoya smiled, repressing another smirk. "I would never assume that about you."
"Good," the mage said seriously.
"Though I think you ought to apologize to Mabel," Remus added.
Naoya pursed his lips. "So, what do we do now?"
Remus sighed. "We keep asking ourselves that question, don't we? But this is uncharted territory. And we don't have a plan."
"Maybe we don't need one," Naoya mused. The others looked to him. "I've been here for a week. These guys are pretty good. They want to meet us in the morning, so maybe we should just wait."
It was not an idea they liked, but they could think of none better.
"You've been gathering information on your vacation," Anders nodded thoughtfully, seeing Naoya smile from being given recognition. "Alright, but as much as I love going into things unprepared, I feel like this time we have to start off right to avoid another Reaver situation. Tell us what you know."