The Hiraethean Prophecy

by LilyKotsu

[Multifandom Crossover Fic (more than HP & DA), Combined Multiverse] Remus, Anders, and Naoya are three strangers who find themselves lost in an unfamiliar forest, leaving plants growing in their footsteps. Unfortunately the only man willing to give them answers is Lord Reaver, the undisputed leader of a glorious golden city with no name.

13. Our Understanding

A/N: Sorry this one took so long. A lot has been going on in the real world. But this chapter is also our longest one yet, so perhaps that makes up for some of that waiting. Consider this chapter two parts of a whole: two stories taking place in the same period of time. Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen: Our Understanding

Red. Dark. Cold.

Fangs. White, slick with venom, chewing on the rusted bars of his cage.

The balverines waited. Moonlight scored the ground between the bars and he couldn't catch in his breath. His vision swirled and he felt himself twitch. There was nothing he could do to stop this from happening. He knew that. He knew, and it made it no easier to bear with the eyes boring into him.

They inched closer to the cage. He could hear them now. With each step towards him his thoughts became less focused. They surrounded him. Waiting. Waiting. And a man split their masses, his teeth gleaming and his eyes like fire.

In the cage, he started to shiver. To shake. To convulse. Not this, not this-

The roar of the balverines was deafening as the white light seared flesh from bone and he-

"Oh, fuck-" Remus bolted upright, drenched in cold sweat and shaking violently. He seized the blankets wrapped around his legs and tore them from him, crawling from his mat to hold himself on hand and knee as he fought for breath he couldn't quite catch between his heart in his throat and the residual gleam of fangs in his eyes. "Fuck," he breathed, over and over, and his elbows bent against his weight. Remus pressed his forehead onto the carpet and his fingers set to tapping the floor, to tapping his scalp, to tapping each other.

This is real, this is real, I'm okay, breathe, please breathe...

After a while the shuddering faded, but the cold echo remained in his blood. On shaky hands, Remus pushed himself back onto his rear. His mind spun wild with thoughts both chastising and terrified, and he felt his neck pop painfully as he looked to his right. Naoya was still asleep and tucked up in a little ball completely under his blankets, looking much like a caterpillar in some sort of nocturnal cocoon. And then to his left, Anders was-

Remus jumped. Anders was still lying down, but his body was bathed in a soft blue glow. His eyes were open, but they were not the shade of brown Remus had expected when he caught them staring directly at him.

"You have had a nightmare," Justice observed through a lightning blue stare. "You have them increasingly often of late."

Remus scooted around to properly face the man-spirit. "Ah, yes," he replied. He coughed. "I suppose? But it was nothing. They're nothing. You can go back to sleep."

Justice continued to look his way, and Remus watched a crackle of white shoot across Anders' nose as he blinked. "I do not sleep. Mages of Anders' world go into the Fade when they dream, and as I share this body I watch over it until he returns."

"You mean to tell me that Anders is-he's asleep? Dreaming?"

Justice made no expression. "Correct."

"Oh. How is that even, er..." Remus swallowed, taking a deep breath that threatened to turn into another cough. The back of his head was wet with sweat, and he sorely wished for a glass of water. But he suddenly felt awkward. "I suppose I should introduce myself," he said.

"It is not necessary," Justice replied, nonplussed. "Since joining with Anders I have experienced everything that he has, including the entirety of this journey. You are Remus Lupin. Anders thinks of you often."

Remus blinked. He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he flexed his fingers. "If you've been watching all night, you would be the first to notice something amiss. Have you noticed anything unusual tonight?" he asked instead. "Do you think we can trust these people?"

Justice considered his words. Remus watched Anders' chest rise and fall with the heavy throes of sleep. "They are all motivated by something different. They would not have been together by choice if it were not forced, though they work together now out of bond. They are interesting to observe. Their habits are... strange. But show no sign of dishonesty. I do not trust them, but I do not believe that they are undeserving, with time. It has been a long journey, and you are right to be wary."

Remus' heart had finally slowed back to a pace that was close to normal. He let his arms relax. "That's good news, at any rate," he sighed. "Maybe this time we've met people that don't seek to kill us."

"Hm," the spirit returned. "We will see."

Indeed, they would. Time was nothing if not a revealer of truths. But that thought was hardly comforting. They were desperately short on allies, even if the Firestarters had tentatively accepted them as new blood. The Vault was nearly impenetrable from any balverine attack, and it was clear that this was the safest place for them to be. But were they to squat here as well, numbers dwindling daily, for mere survival? The last thing they needed was to be caught in another war with the balverines, when they had barely escaped last time.

Remus shuddered to think of it, but if it weren't for Nadine, he might not be here at all. With no control over his actions, she was the only reason he had made it out of the tunnels. Her presence had provided his wolfish self with a distraction and prevented him from enacting the tradition of ripping himself apart - which in turn did him the favor of allowing him to function the next day enough to get through. He owed everything to her and to Alastor, and the thought sent ripples of uncertainty and disgust through him. He remembered that night, sometimes. He saw it in his mind: the bars of his cell, auburn fur in his hands, the way the balverines howled excitedly as he writhed on the floor and he began to convulse-

Remus wanted to throw up. His hands had clenched into fists at the memory and he pushed fervently to unclasp his fingers. There was a place inside him, just under his ribs, that seethed. But he pushed it down, hard. He couldn't. He couldn't do this now.

His head swiveled and he turned back to Justice.

"You have remained silent for most of our journey. Why talk to me now?"

But the glow that surrounded Anders' form had faded. The mage shifted against his pillow, drawing the blanket up with his hands. He stirred, bits of blond obscuring his forehead as Anders-the real Anders-blinked sleep away to look at Remus with eyes that were once again their normal shade.

"You alright?" he asked, voice coarse with sleep, and Remus had to nod rather than speak and give away his frustration.

"Trouble sleeping," he tried, shrugging in a way that felt more mechanical than fluid. But Anders didn't seem to notice.

"Ah," Anders replied, rubbing his eyes. He sat up, allowing himself a yawn he only half covered with his palms. "So nothing to lose sleep over."

"Very amusing."

It was then that footsteps could be heard heading down their little hallway, footsteps that stopped abruptly at the door. Their owners appeared cautiously, opening the door slowly before flicking on the blinding overhead lights. The two of them were fully geared and ready to face the day, though Wash was visibly more relaxed than she had been yesterday and Sokka was droopy with residual sleep.

"Good," Wash said upon seeing the two of them sitting up. "You're awake. Then we won't have to wait to get started."

"Get started?" Remus repeated.

"That's right," she nodded. "You two, come with me. Sokka, you handle the other one."

Sokka's shoulders were slumped as his head turned to find Naoya still quite asleep, balled up in a cocoon of blankets so thick he was completely lost to it. "Fine," he stated flatly, dragging his feet towards Naoya's cot and slinging his boomerang from it's holster on his shoulders.

At her direction, Remus and Anders had gathered themselves as quickly as possible and were already halfway down the hall on Wash's heels. In another minute, an irate shriek carried it's way to them.

"STOP POKING MY ASS WITH YOUR BOOMERANG!"

"I COULDN'T SEE! I THOUGHT IT WAS YOUR HEAD!"

Wash sighed, and the ghost of a grin gave an amused glint to her eye. "I'll never understand that boy," Wash said with a smirk.

In this light, she appeared more personable, far more approachable than the strict stone wall she had appeared to be yesterday. But as she walked, her spine was straight and her shoulders squared. Anders didn't need to guess at her history with a posture like that. There was something about the warrior's lifestyle that left it's mark even after the battle was over. There was a soldier in there, watching them carefully.

She lead them down through a few hallways until they reached the mess hall. It resembled a cross between a 50's-style diner and a high school cafeteria, though all of the chairs had been removed from tables that were mounted into the floor, and stacked across the far wall leaving only the booths available. The counter-space immediately inside the door was where Wash stopped to pour herself a black liquid that made Anders' nose burn. The scent was robust, yet somehow acidic in that it brought the last tinges of sleep in his body to its knees.

He asked, "What is that?"

"Coffee," she said without looking at him. "It's instant, but it's not bad." She reached into the cabinets above the coffee machine to snag him a cup with a VaultTec logo on the side, offering another one to Remus who shook his head.

"I only drink it when I'm ill," he said. "Otherwise it's a little too strong. You haven't got tea bags?"

"Maybe," Wash replied. "Take a look in the cabinets. These folks had years of supplies, anything's possible." She handed Anders his mug of coffee, pointing out the sugar and cream packets on the far end of the counter.

Anders could see his reflection in the black depths of his mug. He had more than a five o'clock shadow, and his hair, while tied back into his traditional half-pony, was messier than he liked. His cheeks were somewhat gaunt as well, having hiked miles each day to search for Naoya while subsiding on a diet of dried rice and other foods with a long shelf life in the Windmill. The last decent meal was at the mansion, and that seemed ages ago. Though he wasn't starving by any means, he was not well-fed. None of them were.

He needed to fill the vast space of silence. "What was this place built for?" he asked, sniffing his drink cautiously.

"Looks like nuclear war," said Wash. "A really powerful weapon that could have destroyed the world," she added, for which Anders was thankful. He couldn't help but feel very out of place. It was easy to understand that this was technology far beyond anything in Thedas, and he only had to be shown things like the faucets or light switches once to understand. But still, the longer he was here the less competent he felt. And he was not used to feeling so useless.

"There used to be a nuclear powered reactor that generated the electricity to this facility," she went on. "But when the Vault was brought here it was cut off it's foundations like the top of a cake." She made a horizontal slicing motion with her free hand. "We've had to try and collect rain water, filter sea water, that sort of thing... And power was a bastard. This is the result of a lot of hard work, and hopefully you'll be able to help make it better with your skills."

Remus had pulled a box of tea out of the cabinets with a strange look on his face. "There are quite a few supplies here," he said. "And this facility must be enormous. The people this was made for never made it here, did they?"

Wash stirred her coffee before responding, taking a long drag from the cup. "Doesn't look like it," she said. "All their belongings are here, but no people. Down on the lower level, where you'll be staying, the apartments are already fully furnished. It's almost too lucky a find, this place."

Anders dared to try his drink finally, taking a cautious sip. Immediately he felt himself recoil as his palate exploded with bitter, earthy shock. But if the smell had done anything to wake him up it was nothing compared to the sensation of the drink itself. He must have made a face, because Wash was grinning and Remus was trying to bury his amusement behind his mug. "It's... strong," he said, and his tongue scraped against the back of his teeth. But he cleared his throat, desperate to move the topic on while Remus showed him how he took his own coffee. "You said something about getting started?"

"I did," Wash nodded, once again serious. "I'll be blunt. As I said, we're hoping for improvement at all times. You have skills we could find useful. For better or worse you're here now, however long that's going to be. And you're consuming resources. So you have to earn your way. None of us gets a free ride, especially when said resources are few and dangerous to come by. So what can you do?"

"I'm a doctor," Anders offered. "I fight as well, but I specialize in healing arts."

"No offense," Wash noted, indicating Anders' robes, "but I think maybe we need someone more... modern."

"I'm a mage," said Anders, "not a butcher."

Wash looked at him. "A mage. As in, magic?"

Anders nodded. "Remus, too."

"I could see it with the staff," she said to Anders, but she turned to Remus next. "But not the stick."

Remus wrapped his fingers around his wand almost defensively. "It's a wand," he said. "Staves aren't very common where I come from, but they exist. This is more discrete."

Wash looked to Anders, and then to Remus. And then, from Remus to Anders. Her brow gave a disbelieving tilt.

"You're fighting creatures that can turn men into monsters," Anders said, "who live in an Oasis that exists under magical law and you're having a hard time believing we are mages?"

Wash shrugged. "I've never seen anyone become a frog here. No enchanted castles. For all I know, the Oasis is technological. I like to see for myself. After all the weird stuff here I'm definitely inclined to believe you, but first you have to show me something."

The magi obliged; Anders, with a white-blue fireball contained in his hands, and Remus with a curt wave. A white-blue mass shot from his wand and galloped on four legs across the kitchen tables before evaporating into mist.

She stared at the air where Remus's patronus had just been, before blinking away any strong opinions she had creeping onto her features and responded with a simple: "Huh." Wash lifted her cup to her lips, snorting lightly before she drank.

Anders squashed the fire and blinked. "You've never seen magic before, and that's all you have to say about it?"

"I'm not awake yet." Wash took another long drink of her coffee. "So you're both magic. Okay. Now, is Naoya magic too? He's got"-she motioned to her eyes-"something going on. I can't think of many other reasons a seventeen-year-old would have yellow eyes and a thousand yard stare."

Anders and Remus exchanged another look, each debating to themselves whether they should divulge certain hard truths. They met each other's eye, reluctantly appearing to agree.

"Naoya is... not magic," Anders began.

"He's something else," Remus added, trying to feel out the best way to say it. "He's not a normal human."

"You don't say," Wash snarked. "Not a human with those eyes, but also not a balv. So what is he?"

"It isn't for us to say," Anders said. "That's his to divulge. You'll have to ask him yourself."

Wash frowned, but did not press further. "I guess that's fair. I can deal with that. I mean, Ren goes on about demons all the time, and Naoya is no stranger at this point. Naoya's not entirely a bad kid, whatever he is..." She sighed. "What a mess this place is. Every time I think I've seen it all, something else comes out of the woods."

Anders hesitated on the word 'demons,' but said nothing. For a woman from another time and place, Wash was taking the news rather well indeed. Either that, or it hadn't hit her at all. He wondered what sort of things she had seen in this world to make her so lax about something as grand as magic. They sat in something akin to a silence with only the occasional slurp of a drink to disturb them for a few tentative moments.

"So you do plan to stay more than a few days," Wash said finally.

Remus and Anders could only look at one another, both unable to find a fragment of certainty in the other.

"It is difficult to say," Remus offered slowly. "For the time being, we have nowhere else to go. An offer of extended shelter would not be unwelcome and we will of course work for our keep. But with Reaver removed from power there is a chance that we may all go home, though it will not be found here."

Wash nodded once. "We'll have to travel for answers. We've been stuck here for so long, trapped here by the balverines. But you've seen the woods. Where the hell would we even go? Ah-one thing at a time. Although... I don't think that's really hit me yet. I'm almost upset by it."

"Why would you be upset about your enemy's defeat?" Half of Anders' face was hidden by the underside of his cup and his voice was muffled.

"Because..." Wash crossed her arms. "Because after all the time we've spent and all the people we lost, to just hear of his defeat by three complete strangers who just arrived on our doorstep is..."

"Anticlimactic?" the mage offered.

"Bullshit," Wash corrected. "It's hard to hear, as glad as it makes me. I wanted to see that bastard go down myself. I wanted to make sure we got justice. That we got something. I don't know. I wanted to at least get that after all the shit we've been through, but at least it's over..."

There was another awkward pause punctuated by the slurping of their beverages.

"May I ask you something?" Remus was the first to speak.

"Sure," Wash replied simply.

"You were hardly interested in our plant trails during our initial walk to the Vault," he said. "Why?"

Wash rolled her brow. "It isn't something new. I've seen people with them before, though I have no idea why."

Remus nodded into his mug, taking a thoughtful drink of tea. "Which of you has the amaranth plant? Sokka?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Naoya told us about how he was brought here," Remus explained. "He said there was a trail of amaranth flowers in the woods just before he was found."

Wash wore an expression of stone. "The only one of us with a trail is Dipper," she said. "He's got some sort of pine. Are you sure it was a trail?"

Remus nodded. "That's what he said."

"That's... unusual. We haven't seen anyone new in these woods for months before you, and it was winter until not too long ago. I'll have to talk to Renkotsu about that. But come on," she added quickly, "let's walk and talk. There are still things we have to get done today."

They set their empty mugs in the dishwasher (after Anders had asked several questions about it) and followed her back out into the rest of Vault 17. The florescent lights above radiated a uniform glow onto the metallic floor and the air smelled of stone dust. They traveled down several hallways and another length of parallel doors before arriving at a large set of swinging doors marked with a blazing, red cross. They shuffled through in single file, though noses began to twitch as the vastly different scents of this room collided with those of the hall. The lights flickered and hummed as Wash turned the switch for the first time in a long while.

They were met with alcohol, cotton, and something vaguely floral but unidentifiable: the universal scent of medicine. It all seemed overly clean and yet the room itched with the undertones of a secret filth, as if one unwashed hand would doom a thousand. Even sparsely used, this clinic was no different from the billions of its siblings. On the far end of the room a simple desk rested facing the two rows of beds on either wall. Next to it a nurses station, and towards the front of the room a private bathroom waited for an occupant. But across the door, two lines of yellow tape crisscrossed the width.

"No running water down here," Wash explained with the idle point of her thumb. "We're working on it, but just getting it to the toilets and showers in the locker room was hard enough. We have a stockpile, but it's only in the jugs for now." She looked between the two magi. "I don't suppose your magic might help with that?"

"It's possible," Remus said. "Though there is surely an easier alternative than rebuilding an entire plumbing system."

Wash listened to him explain for a moment about charms and various spells that might enhance their living situation further. Then, she nodded. "I didn't understand a word of that," she said. "But you'll be the handyman. You seem to have a lot of this figured out."

Remus nodded slowly, not entirely satisfied but accepting. "I have had a lot of miscellaneous work over the years. Just don't ask me to use a hammer, if you wouldn't mind. It took six months for my thumbnail to grow back."

The Lieutenant gave him an amused smirk.

In the unnatural light of the hallway behind them, a shadow flickered across the doorway. Anders turned sharply, feeling Justice confirm: he had seen it, too.

"What's wrong?" Wash asked. Both her and Remus were looking at him.

Anders hesitated. Maybe it was the coffee, but he felt-agitated. Maybe it was nothing. The newness of everything, the stress of the st few weeks; perhaps it was his body complaining for more rest and a sturdier meal than liquid breakfast. Maybe it was nothing. It was probably-

"Nothing," Anders said, feeling his lips press tightly together. "Nothing."

---

"This is it," Wash said, pointing to the darkened end of the hallway.

The stench of dust and the stillness of the air made Anders' hair stand on end.

"It's not much," Wash went on, but the closest one we could think of was this one. Unless you want to stay in your office...?"

Both of the men shook their heads. But the feeling of foreboding didn't go away, and Anders swallowed. They approached the metal slap blocking their way with increasing trepidation. The bulkhead was adorned with a rope from which hung many white, zig-zagging paper streamers, and more rectangular strips of paper on which very delicate Japanese words had been written in deep, black ink.

"These are magical wards," Remus noted. "I've never seen them before, only heard of them. They look ceremonial."

"Renkotsu put them up," Wash explained in a tone that said she didn't exactly understand it either. "We put the bulkhead up to save on heating energy, but Ren put these seals up after muttering something about demons." She shrugged. "I haven't noticed anything, but who am I to judge after all the shit we've been through here?"

The metal groaned as all three of them lifted the slab and leaned it up against the wall. Icy air billowed Anders' coat by his knees, and he shuddered.

"Lumos," Remus whispered, holding his wand up above the three of them, and Anders pressed his staff hard onto the ground. The head of the dragon adorning Freedom's Call lit up as a white glow radiated from between dual rows of fangs.

"Show offs," Wash shot. "Don't worry, well get some lights down here soon enough." She pulled out a small box from her belt loop and put it to her lips. "Go ahead and hit it, Ren."

There was a snap and a kick as electricity flooded the floor with power and light. She lead them just a few steps down the hall before pausing at an unassuming door marked "B Level, 10A".

"Here it is," she said, offering out a small, rectangular piece of plastic with an enlarged black stripe. "This is your keycard. Slide it into the box on the side of the door, like this." As she did so, there was a small whooshing sound as the doorway in front of them slid into the wall to allow admittance.

"I don't know why a door knob isn't just as useful," Anders murmured, arms crossed. But he stepped into the room after the others nonetheless.

"This is the first time I've actually been in here," said Wash, as she too busied herself with careful examination of the apartment. "God, these places are ugly, though."

Anders couldn't have agreed more. It was small, though perhaps that was to be expected when building with such limited space. It was far more luxurious than any "apartment" in Darktown, or even in the elven Alienage by comparison, though the way the striped and floral wallpapers appeared crudely slapped onto metal sheets to form walls Anders sorely wished for some wood or brick surrounding him now. The walls were dotted with strange protruding boxes that Wash explained were probably meant for communication from room to room, or even from apartment to apartment. Like a 'comm system,' or a 'walkie-talkie', or a 'telephone' system. Maker, he was starting to think the damn woods were a sight better. At least he knew what was going on. Eating poison berries on accident was far more appealing than winding up lost in a metal box because he couldn't ring for help without a detailed tutorial.

There was a large, velvet couch in the center of the room that faced a wall with a television on a stand. Behind the couch, a round table and four chairs rested next to the other wall with plates already set up for the next meal. A wall clock that had died long ago at four to midnight was mounted on the wall above it, and dead flower petals crusted the tabletop with a soft layer of mold. Where there weren't Comm Boxes, pictures of a smiling family dotted the walls. There was a teddy bear waiting on the arm chair beside the couch with a silk ribbon around the neck that had never been touched.

"There's a little kitchen," Remus observed as he passed through the small door beside the table. Wash opened the one at a right angle to the kitchen door, and Anders spotted a toilet and a small sink. Wash temporarily disappeared and returned with wet hands.

"Your shower works now, anyway," she said, wiping her hands on her pants. "Though I'd run it for a little before anyone gets in. Water's a little brown. And there's no heat."

"We'll manage," Anders said.

On either side of the television, there were two more doors.

"Bedrooms," Wash said. "But it looks like Renkotsu was correct: there's only two."

Remus emerged from the kitchen. "That should do just as well. I don't mind sleeping on the couch."

"No, you can have one and Naoya can have the other," Anders said, feeling his brow knit. "I'll sleep in the infirmary. There are plenty of beds in there. Besides," he added, "that was how I was set up back home. You never know: I might like it."

"You really want to sleep on the other side of the Vault?"

Anders shrugged. "I don't care either way. I just thought to avoid the fight."

"Just give Naoya the couch," Wash said with a crooked grin. "You're better off that way."

"This... is true," Anders smiled. "Maybe I'll reconsider."

"Whatever you do, just let me know. Renkotsu will want to know."

"I take it you don't care for him."

Wash put her hands on her hips. "He's a challenge, but he knows what he's doing. And he's a hell of a mechanic. Anyway, here." She handed Remus the keycard before making her way towards the door. "I'm going to go check in on Sokka and the others. I haven't heard from them in a while, and knowing them that means neglected chores."

She waved as she left, and the mechanical door sealed behind her.

Anders turned on his heels, really taking in the new room for the first time. It was small. Much smaller than it had seemed just moments ago. Clammy hands reached to run across the back of the mage's neck. Was it always so hot in here? Anders' honey-brown eyes began to scan he walls, looking for the 'thermostatic' or whatever it was they called it. His fingers flexed, one single knuckle refusing to crack. For half a second, Anders caught himself contemplating what the damage might be and how much mana it would cost him to snap that joint himself. His breath caught in his throat.

"I'm going to walk about a bit."

"You don't want to explore the apartment further?" Remus asked with a quizzical expression.

Anders had the keen impression that the wizard had been watching him closely, and he swallowed. In fact he did want to look around, but not with-not yet. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he suppressed a shudder.

"Not immediately," he said. "We can do that later. We have yet to see this Vault for ourselves, and I, er, I would rather see it for myself before getting comfortable. You're welcome to walk with me, of course."

Remus tapped his wand thoughtfully against his palm as he considered this. "Very well," he nodded. Though he handed Anders the keycard, explaining quietly that he did not trust the flimsy pockets of his current clothes. "I hope fully furnished means fully stocked, as well," he muttered, looking longingly at the master bedroom where a wardrobe was sure to be.

The door opened for them with the push of a button, and Anders checked either end of the hall before stepping one toe beyond the threshold. Though the warmer air from the main hall was slowly seeping in, the colder air formed currents across the floor that they could feel scattering in their wake against their fingers as they walked. The hallway was unadorned, though spaced every now and again with another door just like theirs. The lights on each of their card readers was red. Locked.

"Looking forward to some new clothes, are you?" Anders tried to fill the silence. He glanced to Remus, looking him up and down. The brown trousers were well worn after such a short while. The vile forest had a way of exhausting everything seeking to break through it.

"Hopefully," Remus shrugged. He held his wand steady in his hand as he walked, something Anders could appreciate. "These were servants clothes, I'm certain. Not meant to last. And my coat is still back at the Windmill. When we go back-

"'When', is it?"

Remus looked around. "I'm not staying here for a full moon," he said quietly. "I can pick up our belongings when I return to the Windmill, and hopefully that will help."

"So we do plan on staying here," Anders frowned. "For the long run."

They kept walking, but Remus slowed. "Anders, are you alright?"

Anders let out a rather sharp sigh. "I'm just... thinking, I suppose," he replied.

Remus said nothing while Anders paused. One of the lights overhead flickered on and off with a loose connection. "What brought this on? You've been acting odd since this morning."

Anders only offered an irritated, Fade-tinged shrug. "Probably just one of my 'moods' again," he muttered bitterly. But there was more to it than that this time. "I can't sense anything," he said louder, "but there is something down here. I'm going to find it."

"Alright," Remus said casually, and Anders refused to meet his eye. Could it really be so simple? The mage's tongue pressed against the back of his teeth without words to share, pushing for more.

"I know what you're thinking," he said before he could stop himself.

Remus merely cocked him a brow. "Do you?"

Anders cursed under his breath. He swallowed again, though it was tacky this time. "You're thinking that I'm crazy."

"Hm," Remus replied mildly. "I was actually thinking about getting something to eat shortly, but you were very close."

"You're an ass."

"You're agitated," Remus replied. "Does the underground bother you?"

"Of course it does," Anders grimaced. "It reminds me of the bloody Deep Roads. I half expect a hurlock to throw itself at me whenever I round a corner. But more than that, I feel confined. Like the mountain could collapse on top of us at any moment, like the earth is pressing in on us. I was fine upstairs. I could forget about the mountain in the open halls. But this? It's so enclosed, so confining. It's hard to breathe. Don't you feel it?"

Remus shook his head. "I hadn't given it much thought," he admitted. "But we can try to make it bearable."

"That's just it," snapped Anders. "We're all acting as though this is our lot, this is the long-term. Like this is our future, here in this Vault." He locked eyes with Remus now, and there was a mixture of emotions in his gaze that left Remus pinned to his spot. "We're acting as though we're not going home."

"No." Remus stopped completely now, and Anders turned to him. "We're going home, Anders. We are here for now, it is true. But there are others now who are stranded like us, and each of us shares the common goal of returning to our homes. We have not had more motivation between us now, and they may know of resources; things Reaver would have refused us. We're not staying here forever."

"I... I know," Anders replied. He crossed his arms, biting the inside of his cheek. "We have to be prepared for them to turn on us, though. We have to know how to escape this place before we are trapped inside."

"Hence the reason for our walk, I assume."

Anders nodded slowly. "I-I apologize. I find that my mind will not slow down. From the minute I woke up this morning, I was on edge. You probably think I'm paranoid."

"Wrong again," Remus said, and he suddenly broke away and turned the corner, forcing Anders to follow. When Anders saw him again, he was staring at a map colored with differently shaded lines. Like blueprints, each room was marked and labeled and the words "YOU ARE HERE" indicated their current position with a black X. "This is for maintenance personnel. It will be useful," he said quietly. "Though I can't duplicate it. Perhaps Naoya could take a picture of it later tonight with his phone."

"I just keep thinking about Reaver," was all Anders offered in response.

Remus felt his stomach tighten and the nightmares returned acutely to memory. He turned back to Anders slowly. "Oh?"

"I don't know if we would have made it out of there if it weren't for you."

Remus could not suppress a tight, sarcastic laugh. "You barely made it out because of me."

"That isn't so: Alastor only helped us because of you, Remus. When I was-when he-" Anders swallowed "-I was ready to take his place. He tortured me. He tortured all of us. I would have taken his place so that you two could go free. Remus, I accepted his offer. In the moment before Naoya appeared and freed me, I accepted Reaver's offer."

"As I would have to save you both," Remus said, watching Anders' expression carefully. "I expected fully to be left behind after moonrise. But we were looking out for each other. We were trying to do what we could."

Anders nodded meekly, turning away. "Yes," he said, "but it wasn't good enough. The only reason we made it out of there at all was sheer luck. If you weren't a-well, if Alastor weren't inclined to work with you, if Naoya hadn't come the moment he did, we would not be here right now. We don't know what we're doing. We're very out of our element here. Remus, what if everything that we aren't-what if it isn't enough?"

"Where is this coming from?" Remus asked, searching Anders' face with green eyes that flickered back and forth. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that out of the three of us, I had the least part to play in our escape from the mansion! I'm saying that I don't know where we're going and that thought is more terrifying to me than I thought it would be, and in light of what's happened to us all I question my ability to face it. I have faced archdemons and broodmothers, but this realm is a total unknown and I can't-"

Anders was breathing very fast, and Remus had to say his name several times before the mage looked at him.

"Anders. Anders, take a breath. Anders!"

Anders saw Remus' mouth moving, but the voice in his ears were disembodied and far away. His heart was going to break his ribs, and imagined himself watching through another man's eyes as he fell back somewhere inside his body. The expression of the person in front of him changed from concern to something far worse, and the grip he held on his wand tightened. The skin stretching across this body's bones began to tingle with electric light, and the hairs on the back of Justice's neck shot up like quills. His breathing was rough and ragged, and he could smell something wrong in the air-something was wrong, and the air was full of sick-

"YOU!"

Justice hollered like a storm, and the dust of many years' disuse was sent hurtling through the air in an explosion of magical energy. Remus took several steps back, not daring to remove his wand from his belt but not finding it in him to let it go. Anders' robes and hair billowed as the energy swirled in hot winds around the confined space.

"YOU LEAD US TO DESTRUCTION," Justice roared. The lights above flickered and the stench of ozone rose up in waves.

Remus stared, covering his mouth and nose with his elbow. "Justice, please! Tell me what's happening!"

But the spirit howled in rage and sent a fist pounding into the wall, leaving a crater in the bulkhead. "YOU WOULD SEE US TRAPPED! THIS WORLD IS FOREIGN AND UNNATURAL, AND WE HAVE DONE NOTHING TO FURTHER OUR CAUSE! WE CANNOT DELAY! WE CANNOT AFFORD FRIVOLITY, WE MUST ACT!"

"I want to go home as much as you do!" Remus yelled back. "Please, stop this! Stop!"

Justice snarled, and Remus felt something primal inside him go very cold. As the spirit stepped towards him, the lights above them began to explode in both directions in a shower of hot glass. In an instant, the darkness that had been forced out came flooding back and they were plunged into black.

"Anders!" Remus cancelled his shield charm, fumbling through the dark for a wall to get his bearings as his shoes crunched over broken glass. "Anders!"

But when he heard no response, Remus finally took up his wand. A sphere of white light bounced across the pieces of glass on the floor as Remus swung his hand about. There, on the ground and covered in shards, was Anders. He was curled into himself, tears pouring down his face and mixing with the fresh cuts to form pink rivers down his cheeks. Remus made to step towards him but Anders' bloodied hands shot out.

"Don't! Don't come near me!" He took a swallowing breath, continuing to pant on the floor.

Remus watched him helplessly. "I don't understand," he begged, and more glass crunched under his heel.

Anders shook his head. "I almost-we almost-"

Remus did not think. He approached Anders, holding the light above them both. "No. No, listen to me: try and relax. Listen to me; my breathing, my voice."

"I can't," Anders muffled voice came through beneath his elbow. "I can't do it. I can't do anything! And all I've done-look at what I've done, can't you see?!"

"I don't care about any of that," Remus replied, controlling his voice with measured breaths to hide his pulse. "I care about this. I care about you, and what's happening. And you told me to go, but I'm afraid that's not going to happen, and you'll have to live with that."

Anders said nothing, either because he had no words or could not speak. They sat together in near-darkness for countless minutes, the shadows constantly threatening to devour them.

"I.. I'm sorry," he said meekly, once he was able to lift his head and wipe his face. "I'm sorry, Remus. That should never have happened."

Remus offered him a hand to pull him up. Even more bits of glass tumbled out of the folds of Anders' robes. "What did happen?" he asked softly.

"I... Justice-," Anders swayed. Between his panic and the spirit, his body was brutally exhausted. "Before me, I think, ah... I don't think Justice felt emotions. Living emotions. I am occasionally... overwhelmed. And Justice is not-not used to that. He was acting in self defense," Anders finished, his head bowed. He took to examining a cut on his palm where a shard was wedged between the lines. "I should have been more in control," he spat. "I should have control."

"It was a panic attack," Remus replied. "Not something to be ashamed about."

Anders huffed. "You don't become a danger to others when it happens."

"Though I do become a danger to others," was the reply, causing Anders to sigh.

"I don't understand you. You are supposed to treat me like garbage."

"Nonsense." Remus wiped his hands on his trousers. "You do enough of that yourself. Now come on, let's clean this up."

"I'm exhausted."

"I expect you would be after going through that," Remus said quietly. "We don't have to go."

"Remus," Anders asked, "what if... what if, during something important, all of this-what if I can't-"

"We will work through everything that comes our way. Isn't that what you told me?"

Anders sighed, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Maker take you, Lupin."

Remus smiled back "I believe that after what we've already done, we are capable of meeting the challenges that await us. We'll find our way home, or we'll die trying."

Anders sighed. "Are those our only options?"

Remus caught the mage's gaze and suddenly both men snorted, erupting into quiet chuckling.

"You are a good friend," Anders said. "Better than I deserve, I suspect."

"In for a knut, in for a galleon. We outcasts must stick together."

"Oh, yes. So that we're all in one place when the world goes to shit," Anders laughed bitterly. "Let's get on with it. I'm sick of sulking. We ought to find out what the others are doing."

---

Making sure the twins had actually gotten up and hadn't gone back to sleep had taken a little longer than Sokka had thought it would, partly because he wanted to go back to bed just as badly - but no lecture from Wash was worth ten extra minutes of napping. By the time the three of them had made their way to the dining hall, Wash had taken the two new men off to set up their own quarters. Tying his dark hair back into a loose bun as he walked in, Sokka saw that Naoya stood quietly behind the counter, leaning back on it as he sipped from a white mug cupped in his hands. Beside him were three plates, two with servings of eggs and one that appeared to have been eaten off of.

Sokka motioned to the empty plate. "You ate already?"

"Mmhm," Naoya sounded, pulling his coffee away from his lips. A sleepy smile greeted the warrior. "I ate already. You forget that I'm a quick eater." He set the mug down on the counter. "Breakfast is ready for the rest of you guys, though."

"I didn't know you could cook," Mabel said, pushing past Sokka as she approached the counter. "You always let Remus or Anders do it."

"Cook better than Sokko, I don't burn the eggs," Naoya lightly chided, disappearing back into the kitchen after flipping his hair.

"Hey!" Sokka huffed.

"Don't be so mad," Naoya continued, the sounds of dishes clanking in air the for a brief moment, "I worked in a kitchen for a little while. If I didn't know how to not burn stuff, they would've fired me." He reemerged with another plate, a modest slab of grilled venison steak on it, and set it down in front of another seat.

Dipper sat at one of the counter seats that Naoya had placed a dish of eggs in front of, Mabel was quick to sit beside him. "You worked in a kitchen?" he asked.

"You worked?" Sokka half-echoed, somewhat sarcastically, as he sat at the plate with the steak.

Naoya's head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, his bony shoulders falling, as he seemed to give it some thought. "When I was fourteen I started working in a cafe kitchen after school, though the owners were pretty quick to stick me out front."

"Why? You bragging about making eggs drove all the real cooks crazy?" Sokka scoffed, taking a bite of the venison steak in front of him.

Naoya smiled and winked at him, amber eyes half-lidded vainly, then blew a kiss in the warrior's direction - which only made Sokka press his lips together in a stubborn pinkish frown. "I'm a people person," he explained, straightening his posture and placing a hand on his hip. "Plus, all the girls coming in to talk to me? It would've been stupid to keep me out back where no one could see me. Drummed up a lot of business for them." Seemingly satisfied with making Sokka uncomfortable, he turned to the twins with a bright smile. "Four to eight at the cafe, then I went to my second job at an electronics factory - usually nine to one, sometimes two. And after that, I'd spent an hour or two helping an acquaintance of mine sell some things to people who'd be getting out of the bars about that time."

"And by 'sell', you mean…?" Sokka wearily questioned.

It was Naoya's turn to scoff. "Drunk people do stupid things, like perhaps buy crappily made wind chimes or severely overpriced cheap candy that tastes like sawdust."

"So you sold marked-up things to people who weren't capable of knowing better."

"Capable of drinking means capable of knowing you're going to do something you'll regret, Sokko," Naoya defended himself, lightly shrugging.

Mabel waved a hand excitedly at them both, dropping her fork on her plate. "But wait," she interrupted, swallowing the eggs in her mouth, counting steadily for a moment on her other hand's fingers, "If you worked until about three or four in the morning, and schools usually start about eight, then that means…" She gasped. "You only slept maybe two to three hours every night!"

"Sometimes even less, if I had a hard time getting around." Ambushes and fighting, even sometimes adrenaline hours after the fact, were certainly reasons he didn't sleep at night much. Naoya swallowed, his jaw stiffening. He had almost forgotten… "Getting around one of the biggest cities in the world in the middle of the night is a little hard," he said, blinking, smile flickering back across his face as he leaned one hand on the counter. With his other hand, he picked his coffee back up and drank from it again, averting his gaze to the floor.

Dipper prodded his eggs, trying to figure out how to word his next sentence. "Didn't it mess up your school life or something?"

"School's boring, it's kind of a h-" Naoya caught himself before he said 'human thing'. School was most certainly a human construct, where they taught human things. Naoya hated it - and it wasn't just because he was a poor student and skipped whenever he had the chance. He bit his lower lip, defined brows knitting as he tried to think of a way to cover up his almost-words; after all, one person at breakfast wasn't privy to the knowledge that Naoya was not a human. "A hard thing. I'm not good at it." He gave a gratuitous shrug. "Math and history? I don't need to know some exact date of some guy that died a century ago. I don't need to know how to calculate triangles or whatever. I just need to know how to count money."

With a haughty chuckle, Sokka folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, grinning. He waved his fork at Naoya. "You ditched, didn't you."

"Yup," Naoya admitted with no hint of shame.

"And you didn't get in trouble for it?" Mabel asked.

"'Course I did," Naoya said. "And I served my time in detention almost every time. Almost got kicked out once or twice."

"Well, that sounds like you," Dipper commented, holding back a nervous laugh.

"So Wash making you clean the bathrooms is the only real punishment that you've actually served," Sokka snidely commented. It was meant to be a little more biting, but instead he paused. "… You washed your hands before making breakfast, right?"

"I think I did," Naoya feigned thought. "Then again, I might have also confused your steak with a scrub brush…"

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Hey," Dipper interrupted the banter before it began, "Speaking of Wash, where is she? Or the others?"

Naoya gave a large yawn and sleepily rubbed one eye. "She's getting Remus and Anders set up with some real beds," he repeated, picking up all the empty plates at the counter. "Which means after we finish what we have to this morning, we can have a little free time." He offered another smile before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Mabel tapped her chin in thought. "Yes," she hummed, as if trying to make an important decision that would effect hundreds of people instead of the three before her, "But how to spend it? We could go outside. But what would we even do out there, there's just trees and all the plants that follow us." She suddenly snapped her fingers. "We can use our plants to spell out words on the ground!"

"I don't think that's very wise, Mabel," Dipper sighed, clearly used to her suggestions.

"We can spell out bad words," Mabel tried to convince her brother. "Like 'waffle'."

Sokka looked between the two of them. "How is 'waffle' a bad word?"

"Oh, it is in our family, trust us," Mabel gave a dismissive wave of her hand as she grinned. "Grunkle Stan swears with not-bad-words because he's trying to be polite."

"Okay," Sokka accepted that. "Well," he said after only a short pause, "How's about fishing?"

"Mm," Naoya lightly hummed in disapproval, returning from the kitchen, "I don't know how to fish. Plus, fish are all gross and slimy." His nose wrinkled and he stuck out his tongue.

"But yet you'll eat them," Sokka pointed out, scoffing.

"After someone else has done all the gross stuff to them, yes. I don't want to eat it if it's still got eyes and skin and stuff. Makes me feel guilty."

"It's just a fish. There's a million more of them."

"To you, maybe, but maybe the fish had a wife and, like, a million kids. You don't know who you're eating."

"I don't know if we should go fishing with you, man." Flicking his hat up, Dipper turned to Sokka. "Last time you said you were going fishing, you brought home him instead" He jutted a thumb at Naoya.

Ignoring Sokka's reddening complexion, Mabel slammed her hand down on the counter. "That's because Naoya is a catch!"

"Thank you, Mabel," Naoya agreed, practically preening.

Mabel then used both her hands to point at herself. "But I, for one, think fishing sounds like fun. And we are all in serious need of some fun."

---

That was how the four youngest residents of the Vault ended up leaving just after noon had rolled past, with their assigned duties done and a check-out with Renkotsu. The mechanic briefly glanced up from the schematics he had been studying - checking to see that one of them at the very least was carrying a weapon - and a quick "mhm" were the only signs that he'd acknowledged their good-bye.

Given that there were only two of the makeshift fishing poles, Sokka carried one pole and a fishing basket while he headed the group and Mabel trailed behind him carrying the other and her pink and purple bag; Dipper was more content to have his hands stuffed in his pockets, and Naoya brought up the tail end. Naoya was fine with being the last in line; after all, Sokka knew the way to this stream or whatever better than any of them - even if Naoya felt like Sokka was leading them the long way, with extra trees and rocks and brush.

"Like, all I'm saying is that I just don't understand how everything gets so dirty when I'm, like, totally cleaning it every day," Naoya complained, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked. He ducked under the, what was it, fifteenth branch he'd almost been smacked in the face with. "I just want the bathroom to stay clean for like five minutes."

"Well you can't always get what you want," Sokka shook his head, shrugging and rolling one of his hands in the air. "I mean I'd like to go home and see my family, back in my own world where something only tried to eat me maybe once a week instead of every other day. But instead I'm stuck here, listening to you complain about toilets."

"Same here," Dipper agreed. "Minus that part about the toilets. I had that job, and it was kinda gross."

"But you didn't get almost-eaten by a monster every week, Dipper," Mabel's voice came from between them. "You got eaten two times a week, hey-o!"

"Being eaten implies that he was digested and died." It was nitpicking but Sokka wasn't going to let that slide. "Maybe not in that order, but…"

"Man, I hope not," Dipper grimly agreed, though he smiled.

The warrior stopped, turning on the ball of his foot, ready to prate: "No one is dying on my watch," he said proudly, pressing a bronze hand against his sternum. Greeted by Naoya softly giggling, a quick move to accusedly point at him with the fishing pole lead Sokka to discover that the hook had come loose and embedded itself in his hair. "Oh, of course."

"Hold still, Caveman, I'll get it out," Naoya said, coming closer and swatting one of Sokka's hands away as he carefully worked the hook out.

"I thought I told you not to call me that- ow! You pulled my hair on purpose!" he whined.

"I said to hold still, jeez," Naoya frowned, finally picking the hook free of Sokka's bun. "And I was going to call you 'Ponyboy' today, but you decided to go with a bun instead of a ponytail."

"I am not going to dignify that with a response," Sokka stated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh," Naoya sighed, as if disappointed. "Then what was it you just did?"

"He's got you there, Sokka," Mabel pointed out, obviously taking Naoya's side. They then high-fived.

Sokka only grumbled, turning to move onwards. It took everything he had to bite back the comment about how if Naoya hated fishing then why had he come to begin with? But that stupid, girly, annoying pretty boy would somehow find a way to flip that around on him too.

The stream wasn't too far ahead, and as it came into view, it was just as Sokka knew it would be - calm, flat surface, clear water, and a bottom lined with rounded glacier-carved stones. Odd muddy-colored fish darted in and out of the shadows of the blueish and gray rocks, the sun peeking through the branches overhead making it hard to pick out just where the bigger grouping of fish was hiding. Small gnats buzzed along the surface, and a few surface skaters fled as the four of them drew closer to the edge.

Naoya had taken one glance at the water, lips pulling to the side in an unsure manner. He found a nearby tree with a decent clumping of green grass beneath and plopped his body down underneath it, clover spreading around his form. His eyes shut, he could hear the others starting to cast the lines out or whatever

"You know, if you're not going to fish then you can at least watch our stuff."

When Naoya cracked one eye open, Sokka stood over him with his hands on his hips. The brunet dropped the fishing basket next to Naoya, and began to undo the straps for his weapons. The older teenager was fine when the boomerang was set down next to him but when Sokka began to unfasten his sword…

"What?" Sokka asked, catching Naoya's worried gaze.

Naoya eyed the sheathed blade as if he had never seen anything like it before in his life. "I forgot to mention that I don't like swords," the words came out of his mouth with such timidness that Sokka could have sworn that it wasn't Naoya speaking at all. "Don't really have a great history with them. Someone waves one at me, I get impaled… it's just not a fun time if me and swords are at the same party."

Sokka exhaled deeply. "Look," he started, his tone softer. "You don't have to touch it or pick it up or anything. I'm just going to put it here, not touching you, and you just have to not lose it." He slowly set his precious black blade down in the clover, keeping eye contact with Naoya the whole time to show that it was important to him.

Naoya frowned at Sokka's sword, and scooted away from it ever so slightly, before making himself comfortable again and closing his eyes. It hadn't bothered him before, but now something was tugging at his senses. Something that was beginning to set him on edge, which was never good. And he couldn't pinpoint where or why.

---

Two hours and seven moderately-sized fish later, the group of teenagers had shifted around. Time had Mabel get bored with out-fishing her brother and Sokka - Mabel's five fish, to Sokka's two, to Dipper's zero. She had moved over to join Naoya in the grass - happily sitting cross-legged in front of the hazel-haired boy, who was in the midst of separating her long curly, chocolate hair for braiding.

"I used to do this for my sister all the time," he said, smiling fondly. "You and Haruna both have really long hair. I'm jealous."

"You should totally grow yours out!" Mabel suggested.

Naoya sighed. "I might not be able to handle having super long hair, I'd be too good-looking and no one would ever leave me alone." Mabel nodded in solemn acceptance. "Plus I'd look exactly like my sister, and people already mistake me for a girl now and then from the wrong angle…" He smirked as he worked with Mabel's hair and cast a knowing glance at Sokka, who obstinately returned his attention to the river. "I'm jealous of your long dark hair, too, Sokky, so don't feel left out."

"I did not feel 'left out'," Sokka commented. He stood in calf-deep water and did his best to ignore any further comments from the shore.

Naoya only shrugged off the rebuttal and finished braiding. "There we go."

Mabel excitedly snatched her braid from Naoya's hands to inspect the tail end. Satisfied, she stroked her smooth braid a few times before hopping onto her knees and giving Naoya a big hug. "Thank you~! There's just something about having somebody else do your hair for you that's so cathartic."

Naoya gave her a quick pat, before his bony form went lax for all but a second. He then sat straight up, eyes seemingly more of his amber irises than pupil or whites, turning his head and staring out at the forest.

Mabel froze. "Naoya…?"

"Dude, are you okay?" Dipper whirled around, one-handing the fishing pole in his grip and fixing his hat with the other. Noting the oldest boy's expression, he came closer to the shore. "Do you… Do you sense something?"

Sokka turned to face them, wrinkling his nose as if there were some kind of joke he wasn't privy to. "What do you mean 'sense something'?"

The twins exchanged worried glances, before both looking back to Sokka and giving awkward shrugs - trying to brush off any accusations on their behalf.

"No, no, no," Sokka shook his head rapidly, pointing a finger at Naoya, "Do not tell me that after all this time he's actually a- that he's actually one of the 'magic people'."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Mabel scolded him, huffing and putting both her hands on her hips - the straps of the bag Remus and Anders made her firmly in her grip. "Naoya's not magic."

"Yeah," Dipper added. He nervously gripped the rim of his blue baseball cap, tugging ever-so-slightly over his eyes as he was unable to meet Sokka's eye. "Naoya's a-" his lips hovered ever-so-closely to saying 'mutant', he even briefly debated equating Naoya to a 'bender', but he changed his wording at the last second: "Naoya's a psychic."

Sokka gave a slow, disbelieving, blithe blink as he frowned. "Psychic, really?"

"Naoya will deal with all your insults later, right now we've gotta go," Naoya urged, getting to his feet. With a quick bend and snap, he bent down and picked up Sokka's weapons. He half-way met the warrior at the shore and held them out to the taller boy, clearly relieved when Sokka traded the fishing pole for his gear.

As Sokka got himself re-strapped, he avoided looking at the others. The Naoya-is-a-psychic, why was Naoya's hand trembling when he handed him the sword, why everyone had apparently decided all this business was something to keep from him… Whatever questions he had would have to wait, but he would get answers.

"What is it and where's it coming from?" Sokka asked in a defeated tone, stepping out of the water he had been standing in.

"Animal of some kind," Naoya softly replied. He pointed a long finger in the direction he sensed it. "Large. That way, coming this way."

"So it's between us and the Vault," Sokka bit his thumbnail in thought. "Any chance it's a nice animal?"

"No, it feels… territorial. And bitey."

"'Territorial and bitey' describes everything out here, Naoya." But Naoya only shrugged in reply. "Can your 'psychic-ness' be more specific?"

"It's too far away."

"Of course," Sokka half-groaned, half-sighed, running a hand across his forehead and resting it on the top of his skull. He scanned the forest in the direction Naoya had pointed in but he couldn't see anything, only tree trunks and leafy brush. "It's between us and the Vault," he murmured, trying to figure out a good strategy.

They had more of an open field by the water, which was easier to fight in. But if they somehow circled back to the Vault, then they would have the support of everyone else and shelter… But could the four of them make it that far in time?

Tree boughs shaking and leaves rustling broke Sokka from his thoughts as Naoya grabbed his shoulder. They exchanged glances, eyes hovering on each other just long enough for the message to come across: time was up. And for but a moment a secondary though ran through Sokka's mind: the time spent thinking could have been spent on time running.

"Okay," Sokka breathed, shoulders tensing. He turned around and motioned towards a large ovoid boulder half-submerged into the shore and half into water. His intent was clear: it was big enough for them to hide behind, if they ducked down. The four of them quickly made for the cover and waited for any sound of the approaching creature.

It was a low hiss that came first, followed by a light chirping noise and the unmistakable sound of flapping wings. Carefully, the older boys peeked over the top of the boulder - spotting a feathered reptile, sans front legs, that had a head shaped like a four-pointed star. About the height of a meduim-sized dog, it hopped along on the ground, investigating the basket of fish they had forgotten to take with them.

The memory of what Alastor had called the beasts came to the psychic's mind. "Bioraptor," Naoya quitely half-hissed, bunching the ends of his sleeves in his hands. "Those things almost killed me when I first came here."

"Well it's not going to get the chance to this time," Sokka said as shifted his weight on his feet, drawing his black blade from its sheath on his back. "It's just a baby one. If we get it quickly it won't attract any others."

Sokka emerged from their hiding spot, each step surely planted before he moved again so as to not make any noise. When he was close enough to strike, he did it just as he had been shown: go for the nape of the neck on the small ones; and with one swipe and a quickly silenced cry of pain from the small creature, it was over.

The warrior looked around, checking his surroundings, before turning back to the others: "It's clear."

He was expecting looks of gratitude, maybe awe and some admiration; not the wide-eyed stares he got. It was like they had just witnessed a murder or something!

"What? Even the babies are dangerous!" Sokka threw his arms out to the sides, giving up on pleasing anyone at that moment.

An odd, low, whistling chirp came from behind him as something that was clearly not wind blew across his back. Turning, he saw that there was the mother: the dark blue, featherless, angry mother. She would have been eye-to-eye with him, if she had eyes. She reared back on her two limbs and flapped her skin wings ferociously, knocking Sokka back a short distance. He scrambled to his feet just in time to avoid her striking her hardened maw down with the force of a sledgehammer, right where he had been, and dirt and small rocks were forced into the air from her impact.

He tried to keep his thoughts on her movements, on keeping the others behind him and on keeping her attention solely on him, but he could only think of one pressing thing… What was she doing here? The bioraptors never strayed so far south and so close to the ocean!

She charged him while his attention broke, leaping for him with her talons outstretched - and again whipping her pointed head as he pressed back against the rock and again maneuvered out of the way at the last second. He slashed at her maw, but it only drove her backwards a few paces.
When she prepared to lunge again was when an audible SPLASH was heard from the river. Split tails whipping, she snorted and turned her attention to the water, where a decent-sized rock was hurled out over the river only to splash down below the surface. The mother angrily took a stance against the sound, rearing and letting out a low whistle that sounded more like an offended whale.

Sokka watched her confusion, equally confused himself. Was the rock more threatening than the guy who just killed her baby?

"Sound," Naoya breathed, practically in Sokka's ear, placing a hand on his shoulder. Mabel and Dipper were behind him, rocks in their hands as Mabel chucked another into the water. Sokka rubbed his ear, frowning and pretending that his cheeks weren't red, his expression saying it all: Sound? All that time and it was sound that they didn't like?

Naoya tugged on his sleeve, motioning the opposite direction that the mother bioraptor had come from. It would take them much longer than they daylight they had left to circle back to the Vault the long way but there was no telling how many other monsters were nearby. Giving in, Sokka nodded, and followed them, throwing a rock himself now and then, as he stayed at the end of their short line; not once did he move his sword away from the mother. Clear of the clearing, they threw one last rock before bolting.

"Where are we going?" Sokka asked, but was only met with the sight of Mabel leading the way.

"This way!" was all she answered, a pink blur darting through the leaves of low branches ahead of them.

Behind came the sound of crashing branches as the mother gave chase, and the obvious sound of someone falling. Before Sokka or Mabel knew it, Naoya had skidded to a stop and turned on his heel - going after Dipper, who had tripped in some of his sister's witch hazel trail.

"NO!" Sokka cried out, stopping and almost slipping on damp leaves.

But something happened, something that Sokka had never seen before - or the twins, from their expressions. Naoya stood between Dipper and the mother bioraptor, and between Naoya and the mother there was an odd… something… spread out between Naoya's outstretched arms - rippling in the air as if a stone had been thrown into water. A soft light that rippled more when the mother whipped her head at it; it rippled when she beat at it with her wings and clawed at it with her feet. The light was translucent, giving it the appearance of some kind of clear liquid - but as the bioraptor assaulted it, it appeared solid.

The mother jumped back after another failed attempt to claw through Naoya's barrier, and that was when Naoya made his move. The round ripples in the air disappeared, and he shoved his arms out in front of him - fingers slowly gripping something in the air, and the mother acted as if she was being held in place by her maw.

"Now," the word came out of Naoya's mouth with some force, as if speaking was something he'd forgotten how to do, and it was commanding. It took a moment for Sokka to realize that Naoya had directed it at him.

He approached the squirming creature, drawing up his blade for a slash at the weakest spot, the underbelly, and did his best to ignore the muted screech from the bioraptor as her pale innards spilled out on the ground.

"Dipper, are you okay!?" Mabel cried, almost diving to her knees as she went to help her brother up.

Dipper picked up his hat up from where it had fallen beside him. His fingers flexed in the ground pine that grew around where he rested, watching the way it blended with Mabel's witch hazel and Naoya's clover. "Yeah, I think so," Dipper replied, slowly getting to his feet with Mabel's assistance.

With nostrils lightly flaring and a heavy frown set on his face, Sokka turned to Naoya, who stood rigid as his hands reached up to massage his temples. "What was that," he demanded.

He was met with a childish pout and an amber gaze sorely looking him up and down as Naoya rubbed the sides of his forehead. "I could ask you the same thing. Couldn't find a way to do that quickly?" It wasn't an instant death like the smaller bioraptor; Naoya had felt the mother die.

"Alright, you two, break it up!" Mabel commanded, clapping her hands in an reprimanding manner as if she were scolding dogs, practically scowling at them. "Save the bickering for after we reach the Windmill!"

---

There was barely enough light to see their feet set down on the leaf litter underfoot by the time they made it to the outskirts of the ruined village. After Mabel's charged order to quit fighting, no one had - thankfully - said a word.

But that didn't stop Sokka from thinking up some; thinking up questions he wanted answered as he marched behind the twins and Naoya with his arms crossed. He glared at the back of Naoya's head. He made sure no one tripped and got left behind or attacked. He paused as he thought about how familiar but different some of the overgrown buildings looked. Then he continued glaring at the back of Naoya's head. When Mabel started leading them towards the windmill, she and Naoya passed through some sort of invisible curtain. With some hesitation, Dipper followed. Sokka stuck out his arm, testing the strange veil and wiggling his fingers as his skin tingled and the air around his blue sleeve wavered like heat from the sun.

"They're magic barrier things, that Remus set up," Mabel explained to the two of them. Dipper seemed to accept and be fascinated with the answer, while Sokka's frown only deepened as he glanced skywards in an attempt to see how far up the "barriers" went. "They go around the whole windmill. Keeps the monsters out. Also, it makes them explode."

The last part was said with such a casualness, they all looked to her as she turned on her heel and headed for the front door. Dipper and Sokka both looked to Naoya, who only gave a clueless shrug - he had nothing to do with Remus's spell, and so he had no answers.

Mabel threw open the front door after jiggling the handle, rushing in and urging the others to follow. "Nice place, right?" she boasted, though Sokka's expression did not mimic her pride.

"It's cold," he said. "And dark."

"There's a fireplace," Mabel pointed, and Naoya tapped Dipper on the shoulder.

"Help me load the wood," he said, turning away from the door.

"How did you know this was here?" Sokka asked Mabel. "How did you even know where to go? I thought you guys were totally new here."

Mabel gave an innocuous shrug, tapping her temples. "'Mable-senses," she replied. "I had a hunch about the stream, is all."

Sokka removed his gear piece by piece, setting his sword down with care beside the couch upon which he threw himself. He watched the other boys set the fire without speaking, his jaw getting tighter with every passing minute. Just before he thought his teeth might chip, he spoke:

"I want answers." He pointed directly at Naoya. "I want answers, from you."

Naoya nodded. "You're right. You deserve answers."

But Sokka, who had already puffed out his chest and held up an accusing finger, let out a weak noise and his shoulders dropped. "... I wasn't expecting you to agree." He regained his composure after a few deep breaths. "But you're the ringleader in this, this secret keeping. And that's got to stop."

Naoya feigned shock. "Naoya? Naoya's not a ringleader. Naoya is the hot secretary." But he laughed when Sokka made that cross expression for the hundredth time that day, and decided to sit himself down beside him. "Alright, so: I'll give you answers."

"Come on, Dipper," Mabel whispered then, dragging Dipper up the stairs before Sokka had the chance to ask.

Sokka frowned, sighing in a way that made his spine very straight. He took a deep breath. "I just-" he began, "I don't even-why would you keep this from me?"

Naoya bit his tongue, holding back several comments detailing thick skulls and stubbornness. "I guess because you were fighting against things that look human, but aren't. And I hear that things with funky, yellow eyes are very prone to getting attacked by people who start fires."

"But you passed the test," Sokka objected. "You passed Wash's test! We knew you were safe. And you told everyone else! Everyone but me!"

Naoya smiled apologetically. "Naoya was going to tell you. Naoya was waiting for the best time to tell you. But it's hard to find the time to drop the whole 'I'm not human' bomb."

Sokka's head tilted back and he made a frustrated noise. He burried his face in his hands.

"So you're not human," the words coming out of his mouth were supposed to be a nonchalant comment, but instead Sokka found himself sounding more exasperated and concerned than he had wanted. "I-I mean, you look human. Y'know -" he pointed to both of his own blue eyes for emphasis "- except for the eyes thing."

Side-eyeing him, Naoya placed a hand on his hip and cocked a fine brow. "You didn't question that? Not even once?"

"Of course I did. Who wouldn't question a person with bigger-than-normal irises?" Sokka folded his arms tight across his chest and slumped forwards slightly. "I just figured that maybe it was just a birth defect or something."

A short, amused giggle escaped Naoya. "A birth defect?"

"Yes, unlike some people I was trying not to be rude to the first person I came across out here that wasn't a monster."

"Oh no, was I being rude?" Naoya pretended to be appalled with himself, coyly placing a hand to his lips in faux-shock. He scooted over on the couch until he was directly next to Sokka. "How should I behave around you, so as not to offend you?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about."

But Naoya only strew his thin body across Sokka's lap, an arm draped across his face in the most dramatic fashion possible. "However will I make up for my behavior?" He prodded Sokka's shoulder with a long, slender finger, cracking a playful smile.

Sokka couldn't help the way his cheeks heated as he caught Naoya's stare or how his lips curved into a sheepish smile of his own. "Okay, okay," he brushed Naoya's hand off his shoulder, trying to play it off, "You're laying it on a little thick."

"You act like I can't make it up to you. I know, like, hundreds of girls our age," Naoya said pointedly, winking and tapping Sokka's nose with his finger. He sat up and pulled himself back onto his side of the couch. "Better yet, if you find one that doesn't want to gnaw your bones in the bad way, I can help you."

Sokka only rolled his eyes, severely doubting that Naoya knew "hundreds" of girls. "Yeah, and what help would you be?"

"Oh, it's easy," the psychic practically chirped. "Every girl is my friend."

"Naoya-"

Naoya pointed accusedly at Sokka in a sassy manner. "Look, my people are mostly girls, there's almost no guys at all. So if you're trying to say that you know more about girls than me…?"

Sokka's lips drew up as his brows lowered in thought, trying to wrap his mind around what Naoya had just said. "How can there be more girls than guys?"

Naoya groaned, throwing his head back against the the couch just as Sokka had. "You're focusing on the wrong details."

"No, you brought it up." Sokka had a point, though Naoya frowned as it if didn't matter. "So you can at least explain whatever 'your people' are. I think with as long as you've been hiding it from me, you owe me that."

Even with the dim lighting from the moon outside, Naoya looked as if he had been struck with a large slap of guilt. With a defeated sigh, he nodded twice - Sokka was right. And so he explained the best he could about being from a near-human species; how there were, indeed, far more girls than guys; and how the EGO had particular sets of senses and abilities, telepathic or psionic wise. Naoya, himself, was primarily a psionic-type of psychic.

When he was finished, he had snatched the blanket from the back of the couch and Sokka looked as if Naoya had just told him that he had a secret second head on his right big toe.

"Okay." Sokka had started, then stopped; trying to find his words. "Okay. No. I get it now. I think."

Naoya didn't make any remarks, only let a ghost of a smile come to his features. "So, other than the ripply-barrier-thing… what can you do? You sensed that bioraptor earlier."

"A lot of us have sensing abilities; my sister's a straight up telepath, but I'm an empath."

"Like, empathy? Having compassion for other people?"

"No," Naoya shook his head. "More like I can feel emotions-"

"How is feeling emotions a power," Sokka scoffed, though Naoya could sense the confusion lying underneath. "I can do that."

"Well, Sokky, I have more emotions than hungry, grumpy, sarcasm, and checking-myself-out-in-the-bathroom-mirror-when-I-think-no-one's-watching," Naoya retorted, and Sokka shrugged as he conceded. "I can sense the emotions of other people."

Sokka stared at him for a moment before folding his arms across his chest. "Yeah, I'm not really convinced that having tons of feelings is a power. I mean, like you said, I only have four emotions - hungry, grumpy, sarcasm, and looking better than you - and I get by just fine. Anything more than that is just… excessive."

Naoya cracked a grin and started laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing," Naoya smiled. "Told Dip a while back that I knew that our conversation would turn out something like this."

Sokka eyed him, his lower lip stuck out. "You mean you had a feeling."

Naoya's smile only grew. But before it had grown too large, it suddenly faded and Naoya looked to the ceiling as if something were terribly off.

Sokka sat up rigidly, at the ready. "What's wrong, is something out there?"

A small noise escaped the psychic, who only shook his head as he snuggled back down into the cushions of the old couch. "No, no, it's nothing. I think I'm just tired."

The warrior studied the psychic for a moment, before returning to ease himself. "So that stuff you did with your barrier," he started, twiddling his fingers together.

"Psi," Naoya told him. "It's mental energy, sort of."

"Right, right," Sokka nodded. "But… does it hurt?"

Naoya blinked in surprise, shifting underneath the blanket. "Me or others?"

"Both, I guess."

"It doesn't hurt me when I do it, but it's hard when I have a headache or can't concentrate," Naoya explained. "And as far as hurting others, it depends on what I need it to do." He then peeled the blanket down from his shoulders and slipped his hands out, tapping them together invitingly. "Give me your hand, I'll show you."

Naoya was met with a skeptical glance and cocked brows, before Sokka's curiosity got the better of him and he gave in, sliding his hand between Naoya's. His bronze skin had only a few minor scrapes and cuts, remnants of days past and the present day's events. The first thing Sokka felt was the brushing feeling against him, as if whisps of air were pressing against the top and bottom of his hand; the second thing he felt was a numbing tingle in his muscles. By that point it was hard to ignore the gentle warmth that the rippling, liquidy air pressed into his skin. Then, there before his eyes, all his cuts began to fade and disappear.

Sokka watched numbly, thinking of everything that he had experienced in a day; thinking of the wall of information he tried to process now, and of the fact that they didn't even get to keep their fish. When Naoya was finished, he said his thanks and got comfortable again. No creature made any terrible noises and the building was secure enough, but a thought came to Sokka then that twisted his core worse than any Bioraptor ever could.

"Oh, man," he said, staring at the fire and the now-darkened windows. "Wash is going to kill us."

---

A/N: Thank you for reading this far and staying with us the whole way. From this point on, the story once again comes to a head. So your patience and time will be rewarded with something very exciting to come. But as you can imagine, this is very difficult to write and it takes us a long time to put together. If you like the story, it would mean everything for us to see faves or comments, because this takes a lot of energy and a lot of effort. You get to enjoy the ride for free-send us a little thank you! Keep being patient with us. We're going into 3rd gear from here on out.