This escalated far too quickly. All I could think to do was bring it to your attention, and hide under my desk. It's cozier under here than I realized, but anyhow! Anyhow, I apologize if Gerome's too much of a drama queen here... Although I personally think he has no excuse for reacting the way he does in his supports with his father. Technically, there can be an argument for Gerome being a drama queen, right?

Also, I'd like to point out that I've taken some liberty when it comes to the timeline. Unless my eyes were just too dry from playing Awakening until like 4 in the morning AGAIN, to me the game does jack to even slightly give a coherent explanation of the timeline. With nothing to really go with, I pretty much added a layer of sugarcoating to the future kids' early childhood in giving them at least a few years with their parents before they died.

Hopefully, you understand why I want to add even the smallest layer of sugar on the future kids' situation. Awakening, for me at least, has too much feels.

Adventures In Awkward Bonding Times

Chapter 1: "Soul Baring For Beginners"

"This book is bound to tell us everything we need." With that, Morgan blew off some dust over the cover and set the freakishly sized book down on her lap painfully. "If Anna's sister was just giving it away, you KNOW it must be valuable."

"That might not sound so weird coming from anyone else, but I've seen one of her sisters wrestle your father for one piece of gold she saw first."

Morgan looked up to Inigo suddenly, eyebrows connecting in displeasure.

"Your father won." Inigo threw up his arms before his face defensively, just... He was not going to get hit by a book again even if the first time was an accident. We know how to make things look like accidents in this army.

In any case, Morgan did eventually sigh and force her fingers to comb through the pages. It looked as if the book hadn't been read in centuries, but when Anna's sister lost the imp smile in favor of an almost sympathetic one when she mentioned what she was going to use the contents for... Clearly, there was still some worth to it. Appearances are deceiving, get that moral out of the way...

"So this book is about the human mind?" The words clumsily tumbled as Inigo crawled over and claimed a seat next to Morgan. He looked over her shoulder, squinting at rather faded text.

Morgan shook her head though, before standing the book up and pulling it closer so she could actually make out the text as well.

"Please don't tell me we spent the last four nights scribbling out a plan for nothing." Inigo got friendly with despair for a moment, gloomily resting his head chin on her shoulder. "If we don't make Gerome feel comfortable hugging everyone in the family, I'm going to lose my mind-"

"Sister didn't really have a book on the human mind, but she said this novel of 'escapist fiction' can be used as suggestion for how to go about our plan." Morgan's tone lifted to its usual bubbly level, and she eagerly flipped pages again.

"Well, I have to admit that doesn't sound- Escapist fiction?!"

"I know what you mean! Once we restore the text to its true form, we'll be making intense progress!"

As usual, Gerome's evening had been nothing but tossing turning. Sometimes he tried to play up his relations and be an idiot about it; "I'll go to sleep if I make myself think the world really is at peace for now, and I'm totally not selfish at all by taking myself out of killing sprees and fires in the villages. Go team."

Gerome didn't need to see his own reflection to know that his eyes must have been crimson. He felt every inch of them burn when he turned his toward the direction of the sunlight, and no matter how much he blinked there was just no moisture around to save the day. He had been awake pretty all night, and he wanted to die.

Alright, well death was a just a suggestion. Not that he approved of that sort of thing... Buuut if the world would be so kind- Alright no, that's terrible.

In his head, Gerome already made the list of what sucked the most about sleeping arrangements. They included but were not limited to: not being allowed to contact the closest mage studying the dark arts for some help with closing his eyes, a very lumpy cot, blankets that were far too thick to be comfortable in this warmer weather, and not getting a break from listening to couples in tents nearby get frisky.

If he had his way, Gerome would have been content to lie there tangled up in the world's most uncomfortable blankets and burying his face into his arms to save himself from the sunlight. Maybe that was like something out of a terrible poem, maybe not. In any case, he wasn't going to leave his tent for ANYTHING-

"Gerome?" Lucina's voice penetrated the exaggerated depression, with the melody of an imaginary harp to back it up.

Gerome still wasn't giving any Fs, mind you. He- He was still being a rebel, and rising from the blankets in a hurry was in no way damaging the resistance he'd managed to craft. Don't even try to compare him to a weak person.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." Lucina was ready to get crap accomplished, apparently. She didn't even wait for a reply, merely continuing to speak presumably very close to the 'doors'. "There is an important matter I was asked to bring to your attention. Whenever you have the time, meet me just on the outskirt of camp." With that, the sound of leaves crunching indicated Lucina took her leave as fast as she approached.

Gerome, meanwhile, felt he had gotten high off her voice alone. Not that it was problem; you like what you like, no? It just so happened that her voice was the only to convince him to throw the blankets off entirely and go through his morning preparations at a surprisingly fast pace like life had meaning again.

"She's not going to invite you for a romantic stroll, sick madman." Gerome, being the master of pep talks, kept that thought in his mind as he dressed and adjusted the mask perfectly over his scorching eyes. "It's Lucina, you know? She's going to talk about something her father said concerning morale, food, assembling a choir to go cheer up people nearby suffering from poverty..."

Gerome couldn't say he liked the idea of someone trying to communicate first thing in the morning, but if it was Lucina then he couldn't complain too much about it. He was disgusted by human contact, but he wasn't too much of a whiny child usually. Right? Seriously, he needed reassurance.

When Gerome arrived at the outskirt of camp, he didn't really know what he had been expecting. Either the day would end on a pleasant or sour note, regardless of what actually happened during his encounter with Lucina. First things first: everything got weird when he stepped into the much brighter area without many trees.

There was a single wooden table set up for some reason, littered with four bags that were open and had what looked to be paper and quills falling out. As far as the rest of the bags' contents, there were still bulges at the end to suggest more useless items were inside but Gerome really didn't want to make his head split open from thinking too much.

Of course the tension did settle. Eventually. Lucina managed to walk over to Gerome and, um, taking his hand once she was close to him was necessary.

Of course, Gerome's heart began to race, but he reminded himself of one thing: "Unlike Morgan, you actually have some self control. Also, if you give in to immature puppy love then eff you."

"They're coming." Well, that wasn't ominous at all. In any case, Lucina kept a brave face as she whispered her warning. "Robin and Cherche have agreed to meet you here, and they will be creepy about it but you have to stay strong. You have to endure any and all cringe-inducing moments if you want to succeed."

Gerome's hand felt like it was burning in hers, but more importantly reality smashed into his head and possibly caused him to lose more brain cells than he cared to count.

"Don't tell me..."

"Gerome, I'm sorry. Also from another point of view, I can have sympathy."

"But you're still warning me about them..."

"I know they make you uncomfortable."

"If I can get to Minerva fast enough, I can escape-"

"Don't be hasty!"

Gerome cringed slightly, able to withdraw his hand despite there being no reason to. Lucina looked mostly under control despite that outburst, only folding her arms and walking to the nearest tree to lean against.

"I know that Robin is a confusing mess, and Cherche can come across as too smug sometimes. Also, Morgan is... Um... Anyway, you're still lucky that you do have a family."

"Everyone tells me the same thing. What makes you think one more lecture will be any different?" Did that sound hostile? Gerome wanted to kick himself, but decided to save it.

Somehow, Lucina radiated composure despite the look of mortification crossing over her face again. The day was filled with conflict and bottled feelings, but it wasn't even in the afternoon yet. Screw everything.

Gerome huffed, swirling away and leaning against a trunk himself. "How can you possibly feel anything after hearing the news that your parents threw their lives away?"

"They're still the same parents we loved before. You think taking a few streaks of gray hair off changes who they are? Robin is still obsessed with Chrom, and Cherche is still acting like she could be the really important factor in the end of the world."

"I don't have the ability to love."

"So when you were five years old, you constantly made every excuse in the world to hug Cherche because...?"

Gerome's hand dug into the trunk, any splinters received totally ignored as he clawed in.

"Also, that's one detail Morgan doesn't know." Even in her voice, Lucina sounded like she was fighting back a smile. "For your sake, I pray she never finds out. Hopefully you understand what I'm trying to say? If Morgan attempts to make you break, don't give in."

"Are you going to finally choose between lecturing me on the importance of family and giving a warning?"

"I tried to be subtle."

Gerome used his free hand to bury his face into, but just for good measure he did deepen his fingernails into the trunk before turning around. The very instant he did so, he cracked open an eye to peek through his fingers and see Lucina's boots. Then he looked higher at her terrified expression- Huh?

"They're here." With that, Lucina pat his shoulder and she zoomed away. She was NOT staying for the absolute insanity that she knew was coming.

Gerome was left sputtering nonsense, hands waving everywhere in some kind of disturbed spasm as he watched Lucina kick up some dust in just how fast she was running. It wasn't long before she was just a speck, far away from the scene and unable to help him figure out what was even happening.

A big yawn was let out, and that sound forced Gerome to turn toward the table again. That was when he saw it. That was when he considered running as well, but gave up because obviously he loved punishment. He had an incurable desire to be constantly shoved into situations he wanted no part in. It was fantastic.

In any case, Robin stumbled into the scene letting out a series of smaller yawns and generally looking unkempt and recently dragged out from the depths of hell. Cherche had her arm locked with his though, guiding him along and positively glowing as if that didn't look weird at all.

No, no that was alright. Their conflicting appearances were so normal that it caused Lucina to flee out of the horror that she just could be unfit to look right at it. That was a typical occurrence never.

"What are you doing here?" Even to Gerome, he thought his tone was perfectly irate.

"I would have been sleeping longer if Morgan hadn't personally shouted through the tent to meet her here." Robin answered quickly, rubbing his knuckle over his eye. He was just awful.

Cherche guided Robin over to the table and she dropped him there. It was okay because Robin apparently didn't know the meaning of retiring early, either that or the two of them had been... Oh gods, no Gerome didn't need the images. It was lack of sleep. It had to be.

"I'd ask if you've seen Morgan, but from what I could see it looked like you were having a pleasant talk with Lucina."

"Are they together? Is that one more piece of drama I don't have to deal with?" Robin groaned into the table, words somehow still audible.

Gerome's hands clenched to fists, and he wondered how long it would be before he bolted as well.

"How was the talk?" Cherche smiled her usual friendly, yet oh so knowing smile. She appeared as if an eternally supportive mother and not at all teasing, really. "It's not every day I see you together. If that was what Morgan wanted us to see, my expectations were not at all impossible."

"I will personally rip all these trees out of the ground if you won't shut your stupid-"

"TIME TO BEGIN!" Morgan's voice suddenly rang from nowhere.

"We're really doing this? I can't get a few more minutes of sleep?" Robin rubbed his eyes again, though afterward he did push his hands against the table and try to stand up properly.

Gerome never wished for the world to split open and suck everyone into hell more than he did that morning.

Perhaps he should have stopped and asked himself if he was being rational, but then he would make the argument that Morgan was his sister. How could someone related to something such as Morgan ever be rational? He could call himself sane all he wanted, but he'd always be dragged down by her craziness.

After Morgan stepped into the light, she strolled up to that table with such a passionate spark in her eyes. She was up to something, and gods bless Lucina she could not prepare Gerome for what horror would take place. Morgan took the bags effortlessly, despite the fact they looked to have weight to them.

From then on, Gerome did his best to be mute and turn his ears off. It was more difficult to not say anything, even if he had some choice words stuck in his throat threatening to finally be uttered where everyone within so many miles of this camp could hear and offer some help. As for his ears, well unfortunately they were still in good condition and could make out every horrid word that fell out of Morgan's mouth.

Apparently, Morgan had gotten the idea to have them bare their souls to each other. There was some book about a man who didn't get along with his parents despite the fact they loved him more than anything in the world, and once he got news they were dying of a mysterious illness a scolding voice in his head told him to not let his parents leave the world without knowing his side of the story. The man followed a siren of a woman, who would become the obvious plot twist that she was his conscience personified, to the little cottage where they lived and... Well in any good story, there would have been conflict. The way Morgan told it, there was nothing stopping the man from confessing to his parents and them accepting an apology from him. So basically, the story was the worst in existence.

Somehow, they all wound up at the edge of the river when Morgan was finished explaining the story. She had been walking in between her parents, grabbing one of their arms and guiding them along helplessly. The only reason Gerome followed at all was because of Cherche getting a handful of his collar last minute.

The bags that were once nearly falling out from Morgan's armpits finally met the ground. Morgan spun around excitedly, facing her three captives who sank to their knees in whatever places they were standing before.

"Wait until you hear the story of how-"

"NO!"

Gerome actually felt his eyes widen when he turned to look toward a rather panicked Robin.

Morgan's delighted expression faltered, but she didn't say anything else so that was a victory.

In any case, Robin caught him himself never by lifting his head back to Morgan and laughing nervously. "You need to save your voice. Why don't we just perform this, er, ritual of yours? I think it's a ritual? I didn't get much information from the story."

"That's a wonderful idea." Cherche added in, clasping her hands less like she was happy and more like praying desperately for a distraction. "The sooner we get all the unpleasant feelings out, the sooner I can go let Minerva spread her wings a little."

"Oh don't worry, Mother." Morgan waved her hand dismissively, giggling. "All we're going to do is the simplified version. I'm confident you'll all pick up on it quick!"

"Or we'll go insane." Gerome couldn't be sure anyone heard him; he'd muttered that comment.

With that, Morgan fell to her knees just like everyone else and withdrew some paper and very small boxes from the bags. There looked to be quills, rocks, and cheaply made necklaces in some of them. Only Cherche dared to briefly ask what those things were for, but Morgan only replied that if all went well today she wouldn't need the stuff. Make of that what you will, but when Gerome briefly met Cherche's eyes he couldn't deny she was genuinely expecting the worst.

"I asked Lucina to tell me some details of what our family was like in the future. What it was like before the, um, untimely death and whatnot." Morgan kept up a cheerful smile, handing out three pieces of paper to her family each, but taking great care not to accidentally show another what was scribbled on them. "We are going to exchange these important details to each other in a circle, one by one showing the details no matter what we personally think of it. And when we run out of material, it's time for hugs and cuteness!"

"This was nothing to do with soul bar-"

"Please Gerome, if it makes her happy-"

"Will you two allow her to speak? Minerva must be so lonely!"

"Of course I care about Minerva! Why do you think I want this shit to-"

"Gerome! Swearing gives you one penalty!" Morgan made her worst pouting face, air audibly rushing into her nostrils and everything. "You DON'T want to know what happens when you get three penalties."

"I don't even care! This is all bull-"

"For the love of whatever god is looking down at us right now, I'm sorry for anything I've done that would make me deserve this by the by, let your sister speak..."

Everyone looked toward Robin suddenly, any previous frustration and anxiety crashing to a halt like a bunch of wagons nearly toppling over a cliff. Robin found himself on his hands and knees, gasping for breath because acting dramatic can take a lot of energy and he didn't have time for that shi-aaaah... Well, he was just done with all of this. Absolutely finished. Was the war over?

"Alright, this is freaking me out." Total understatement. Nevertheless, Morgan reverted to chirpy and eagerly finished her task by giving Robin his three papers.

Soon enough, everyone had their papers and they all wished they could be doing something else. But it was obvious from the less than amused expressions they wore that they really wanted to get this over with. Gerome still didn't know if this counted as baring one's soul; it really did appear to be more of a comparison marathon than anything else, but at that point his head was hurting and... Ugh...

Morgan's handwriting wasn't good at all, but Gerome looked over the three papers nonetheless. He cringed so hard.

Robin and Cherche bet some gold on what Gerome's first word would be. Robin claimed Father, and Cherche claimed wyvern due to her nonstop soothing when little Gerome couldn't sleep because of the loud screeching outside.

Cherche wound up owing Robin one hundred gold.

It only got worse from there on the second paper...

Gerome had a huge case of puppy love for Lucina, never able to properly express it but still confiding to Cherche that he wanted to know how a nobody could win over royalty.

And yet, the absolute worst was...

When Gerome was five, during a visit to the castle he wandered away from Robin and Chrom in order to find a place to relieve his bladder. Their conversation seemed too important to interrupt, after all. He got lost, not knowing he was two rooms away from the exit. Time had run out, unfortunately the only option he had involved the rather expensive flower vase-

"KILL ME!"

Gerome crumpled the papers into his palm, shuddering and forcing himself to keep his eyes on the ground. It was stupid to care so much, but... Come on, if they really had to be his parents then they didn't need to know anything like this. It wasn't any of their business seeing as they would have a different son entirely if they lived long enough, and that son would have his own series of cringe-inducing experiences in his early stages.

"Alright Gerome, please exchange with Moth-"

"No."

Morgan's face scrunched up in sheer lack of amusement.

As some kind of rebellious move, Gerome looked back up at Morgan with his cheeks all puffy as he tried to hold a pout of his own on his face.

Cherche and Robin merely backed up a little more, silently agreeing to bolt if the worst came to be.

"Mother, why don't you exchange with Gerome? He's being STUBBORN, and RUDE. The PIG."

"I can feel the love." Cherche's conflicted face would imply otherwise, but she still turned to Gerome and offered the papers to his outstretched and trembling hand.

Gerome swiped the papers quickly, crumpling the others underneath one knee for protection purposes. He looked over the next three, heartbeat ringing louder in his ears all the way.

When Cherche found out she was pregnant, she denied becoming one of those paranoid mothers who thought taking one step on stable earth would harm the baby. Anyone who knew her before were well aware that she was just putting up a very see through shield.

That wasn't really so bad at first, right? Gerome honestly wondered why some form of emotion was trying to rise from the depths of hell at that, but then realized the torture was only beginning.

Legend says that when Cherche was able to hold her newborn son for the first time, that was the only moment she'd lost her composure. You know this woman: she's never even slightly bothered by events, and even the pregnancy didn't have her lose too much hair over concern despite the aforementioned see through shield. For once, silent tears were leaking from her eyes and not just from the general suffering of birth itself.

Of course the final nail in the coffin was...

An even more obscure legend says that the first parent who Gerome looked at with open eyes for the first time was Robin, and Robin never let anyone forget that. Chrom was sick of talking to him for the next month because it seemed all Robin could do was gush about how beautiful-

"I'm leaving."

"Nooo, you have to stay where you are so Mother and Father can see those papers-"

"You can't make me do any of this! How many times do I have to avoid all of you before you take a hint?! Take one damned hint for once in your-"

"That's two-"

Gerome made some kind of animal-like growl, something that made Morgan drop her wagging finger to the ground and then send her sinking all the way down onto her front with her chin breaking through dirt.

Of course Robin leapt into action. He threw himself between his kids, tiredness suddenly removed from his face. "Gerome, we're all really hungry right now. I know this isn't easy for you, and I don't know why Morgan has to bring all of this up now but- Come on, why don't you lighten up?"

Gerome was releasing so much air from his nostrils, possibly letting out some flames from that general location as well. Still, his chest rose and fell too much for him to speak. His emotional outburst simply wasn't going to allow him to give context.

"You don't even have to hand me the papers. I'll grab them, eyes closed the whole time, and then only slightly look over the contents. I promise I won't speak of it out loud, and take great care to never do it around you even by accident." Cherche joined Robin, though mostly acting as a barrier between the siblings.

"You saw enough! That's all you're ever going to see!"

"That's the hunger talking. Now come on, let's not scream unnecessarily." Robin flashed a smile, the tiredness returning that made him look more like a struggling parent. Still, like every other time he dealt with him despite Gerome's extreme reactions his eyes glittered with affection nonetheless.

Gerome swore something in him snapped when he saw that look. He would have believed it to be his brain, no question there. But there was also a feeling that could only be described as familiarity passing by. His real father, bad future Robin, gave him the same kind of look. Gerome couldn't recall the time or place, but just as Morgan could only recall a single memory of Cherche he could put himself in that time with Robin being exhausted with his son's actions but at the same time just being content with this parent role.

Gerome quickly gathered the papers though, everyone's papers. Collections of disapproving comments arose, but he tuned them out and made sure that they were harshly crumpled to the point of at least some damage. Of course he couldn't do anything about them, and he didn't trust his trembling hands to be able to properly make a tear down the middle in between all the more painful details.

"It's not the best system, I know. I had good intentions, Gerome!" Morgan stuck her head through the gap between Robin and Cherche's arms and sides, eyebrows knitting all seriously. "How much torture do you have to put yourself through before you figure out how much our parents mean to you?!"

"These two?! It sounds like you'd be better off if you realized your parents are long dead, and these two are cheap imitations! They can't give you any real love because they don't know you! The real Robin and Cherche would know how to comfort me!"

"But you're not difficult to understand." Robin spoke up...not as dramatic as he hoped. All eyes moved to him as he continued, assurance dripping off his tone. "I didn't know for sure at first, but I understand now. You're a loving person, it's just not your style to be so bold about it. Still, when you yell at me I feel like deep down you know whenever I act stupid I'm just-"

"Stuff that away for your next before-the-final-battle speech."

Morgan turned to Cherche, most likely expecting her to add in some comments. But she didn't know why she was doing so; Cherche was nothing but composure once more, keeping her eyes on her family and not trying to make this mood even worse by saying something that could embarrass her in hindsight. It was a bold move, and something Morgan just wasn't suited for.

"Don't you see two of us and feel anything other than disgust? If you feel nothing, removing that mask and looking right in our eyes should be the easiest thing in the world." Robin added in last-minute, though still sounding certain he had the upper hand.

Gerome hurriedly threw himself back, trying not to shudder too much despite Morgan's questioning if needed her to stir another breeze to rise some flames for his own burn. Ignoring how ridiculous that question was and how it should be buried under the earth never to be uttered for as long as time continued, he swore he felt like he could pass out.

"Everyone knows that you don't wear a mask unless you want to hide your identity or cover up your true emotions." Robin was apparently a master on the subject of masks, saying all of that crap like it was fact.

Gerome squeezed his eyes shut, clasping his hands tighter on the stupid papers that were already crushed between his hands.

"Besides, I bet Cherche on whose eyes you inherited. Don't let me go on being proud for no reason."

"Father! Look at his shaking; he's totally going to give in!"

"Don't listen to them, Gerome. I would like to see your eyes as well, but this has nothing to do with the situation. Don't do anything you might regret, okay?"

Gerome found the moisture in his eyes he'd previously lacked. He grit his teeth so hard that he actually felt like he was biting down on them, resorting to anything to keep himself from launching at his parents and "doing something he might regret". Yeah, the last thing he wanted was to imply he was willing to look beyond all the suffering they'd given him. When his eyes were meant to be dried up, never able to let anything past.

For fu- Those weren't tears, were they? Tears for WHAT? The real people who deserved this kind of reaction for were long dead, and it didn't matter anymore. It was too late to grieve, but then again Gerome wondered if he was the only person who'd ever bothered to do so in the first place. Who else was going to have the decency to remember the fallen? Oh wait, there was no one because the world went to hell.

What could he do about the tears? They'd surely start dripping down his face with his head lowered like that, and of course he had to sniffle. Of. Course. One sniffle led to his nose even embarrassingly- How could the day be any worse? How many hours were left?

"Don't follow me." With that, Gerome stood and turned away from them. He kept crushing all the papers to the best of his ability, though hopefully the NOT tears falling on them would wash off the ink.

Morgan made some kind of whine in the back of her throat, but otherwise joined her parents in standing as well. She walked right over to Gerome and did the only thing she could think of.

If someone's having an emotional breakdown in front of you, the best course of action is to totally throw out your arms and embrace them. Don't say you've never done the same. When someone's got a sword pointed right at you, you hug that person with your chest and stomach just slightly turned away from the tip of the blade. If there's a lance or axe, well consider yourself screwed then.

"Let all your emotions-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Okay, angry five year old. What-

Gerome wound up breaking free of the arms clasped around his waist, and he didn't really know how much force he'd put into his escape but he did hear Morgan grunt and land on the ground. Robin hurried to Morgan's side, though he still made time to comment on how this moment didn't call for acting over the top.

Of course Cherche was still mostly in control, but her face slipped up. Gerome blinked away enough of the lingering teardrops on the edge of his lashes to properly see her, and Cherche was frowning obviously concerned. It was either for one of her children or both, and at the thought of it being directed to him Gerome wanted to officially disappear.

Of course Gerome did disappear. He bolted back to camp, not all of the crushed papers of hell in his grasp but he didn't have time to care. The last thing he heard from Morgan was a rather satisfactory comment.

"I think that went rather well!"

It didn't go well, by the way. Just sayin'.

And so much to Gerome's dismay, it continues on...