Chapter Ninety Four
...
"Come onnn, you've gotta tell me! I promise I won't tell anyone. Like, ever, my mouth is sealed shut!"
"I fucking wish it was, Ronnie. Would you get out of my way?" Warren snapped.
Ronnie grinned. "Not until you tell me."
Warren shook his head and went back to rinsing off the dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher.
"Warren, Layla is here. Ronnie, table six wants their food today!" Mrs. Woo snapped, Ronnie practically running back to his station.
Glad that Layla had received his SOS, Warren added the last of the dishes to the dishwasher, set it to run, and followed Mrs. Woo out to the restaurant where Layla was sitting at a table with Mei Ling, both of them folding napkins into two-pronged hats.
"Hey, hippie," Warren said, kissing her cheek and letting his relief and gratitude flow to her wrist.
"Hey, yourself," she said with a smile. "I'm finishing two more hats and then we can go."
"Go?"
"Yeah, just for a walk on your break. Or do you want to stay in the break room?" Layla asked.
Warren shook his head. "A walk sounds good. Your hats are improving."
"Thanks, I've been practising with Frieda's napkins at home. I want to make a rose one day," Layla said, grinning.
"That's a good one. Roses take lots of practice," Mei Ling said, shaking out her napkin and folding it with expert fingers into a rose to show Layla.
"Wow! How many have you made? That looks amazing."
"I stopped counting after the first hundred," Mei Ling said with a shrug. "I can do this perfectly, but I still have trouble with the swan napkin; they always fall over."
"I don't think I can even attempt a swan yet. Can you show me next time, Mei Ling?" Layla asked, setting aside her last two hats.
"Sure, as long as you don't mind lopsided swans," Mei Ling said, grinning. "Here, take the rose. It's much easier than it looks."
"I don't mind at all. Thanks," Layla said, smiling as she took the offered rose.
"Fifteen minutes, Warren!" Mrs. Woo called as Layla stood and they started to leave.
"Thank you, Mrs. Woo," Layla called over her shoulder, taking Warren's hand and holding the rose carefully in the other. "What's wrong, Warren?" she asked when they were out of earshot and heading up the block to do a circuit.
"Ronnie's being a prick. Keeps bugging me about my power. He's going to find out the hard way soon," he muttered, barely stopping his hands from lighting up then and there.
"Hmm. Does anyone else know?" Layla asked as they walked up towards the Plantation hotel.
"Maybe Mrs. Woo or Kim, but the others wouldn't."
"Ronnie does the cooking when you're on shift together, yeah?"
"Yeah, when he's not harassing me."
"Can you make the fire hotter?"
Warren frowned. "What, you mean burn him?"
"Just scare him. I wouldn't want Mrs. Woo to be short-staffed, even if Ronnie's being a prick."
"Is this because you want food, hippie?"
"Maybe. Maybe I want to have food with you, instead of waiting for you to cook it," Layla said, laughing as she kissed his cheek.
"We'd still have to wait for Ronnie to cook it."
"Hmm. Alone at a table for fifteen minutes together. What would we do?" she asked mockingly.
Warren grinned and stopped abruptly, tugging Layla against his chest to kiss her. "Could think of a few things."
Layla pulled away from their kiss, licking her lips, and grinned broadly. "Mrs. Woo would probably get those babies she so desperately wants to spoil."
"Fuck, hippie."
"That's what I was alluding to," Layla said, grinning still. "Come on, let's head back. Maybe don't make the fire hotter, then. What about a vine?"
"I'm still not confident in controlling them. I'll probably get half the staff and not Ronnie," Warren said, rolling his eyes.
"Hmm, we'll have to work on that. I could help, if you wanted? I'm sure Ronnie would talk to me if I asked him nicely."
Warren looked to her in confusion. "Why does that sound like you're going to proposition him?"
Layla shrugged. "I'd do it to get him under control and stop harassing you."
"How sweet. It's all right, hippie; I'll try the fire thing. It might shut him up tonight, at least."
"Hmm, okay. Who were those people in the restaurant?"
"Which people?"
"The guy and the woman. She's wearing a detective's badge."
"Didn't notice them; I haven't been out of the kitchen until you arrived."
"Mei Ling said they asked her about the man we killed."
"What? I've been bitching about Ronnie and you couldn't have told me that sooner?"
Layla shrugged. "Bitching about Ronnie seemed more important. Besides, they just asked if anyone else had talked with him, and Mei Ling and Kim were the only ones who had."
"Why are they here now? That idiot was killed ages ago."
"I'm not a mind-reader, and Donny's at work and probably won't answer his phone."
"I think this is slightly more important than serving ice cream to snotty little brats."
"Only if they suspect us. You've got your fire tattoo covered, right?"
"Yeah, always."
"Can we set Ronnie up for it?"
"I thought you didn't want us to be short-staffed?"
"I'd prefer us not to be incarcerated," Layla pointed out. "I doubt Mrs. Woo will make deliveries to prison."
Warren snorted. "Yeah, she would. She'd bring you all of the napkins to fold while you don't have anything else to do."
Layla laughed. "I might be able to perfect the swan, then."
Warren slowed to a stop, Layla looking at him. "What are we going to do, hippie? If they actually suspect us, this could be very fucking bad."
"Let's just try to get Donny on the phone first and see what they're thinking, okay? They might not suspect a thing and we'd waste time on them for no reason."
"All right. I'll call him, you try the number for the ice cream place."
"All this talk of ice cream is making me hungry," Layla murmured, finding the phone number and dialling.
"I'll get you some vegetarian spring rolls, okay?"
"Ooh, love you," Layla said, kissing him quickly.
"Love you, too," Donny said, rolling his eyes. "Why are you calling me at work?"
"Hey, I could be putting in an order for an ice cream cake," Layla said, grinning.
Donny snorted. "Yeah, right. You're not calling to get the ice cream recipe from me like Zach tried to do, right?"
"Uh, no. Can you do me a favour and pick up someone's thoughts, please?"
"Who and why?" Donny asked, his voice dropping when he saw that his boss was looking over. He smiled and waved briefly, grabbing a pen and writing an order for an ice cream cake down on the notepad.
"Two police detectives. They might be investigating Warren and me about Mr. Phillips' and his friends' deaths."
"Oh, for fu- " Donny cut off, seeing a child's wide-eyed expression through the glass ice cream window. "Lead with that next time," he hissed.
"I'm hoping there won't be a next time," Layla said pointedly. "We're almost at the Paper Lantern; can you hear anything now or do I need to be closer?"
"Ugh, tell Warren to calm down, would you?"
Layla looked to her boyfriend, Warren shrugging and moving a few steps back.
"Oh, geez. Old timer and a newbie. You got the cream of the crop there," Donny muttered, writing down Frieda's address because someone was going to get a damn ice cream cake out of this phone call.
"Uh huh. We're walking inside now, so see what they think about us," Layla said, going quiet as Warren opened the door and held it for her.
"Newbie thinks you're sweet. Old timer is wondering how long his sweet and sour pork's going to take. But... wait, he's got another level."
"A what now?"
"Surface thoughts are easy to access, next level down, it's harder. Means a little more work on my end. Just... shit, give me your debit card details."
"Wait, what?"
"You're getting an ice cream cake delivered and I'm not paying for the damn thing. Hurry up, my boss is watching."
"Um, okay. What flavour?" Layla asked, digging into her bag for her wallet.
"Oh, I don't - vanilla with sprinkles, okay? Do you actually care right now?"
"Yeah, kinda. If it's going to be my last meal before prison, I want it to be good."
"Please, say that a little louder," Warren hissed.
Layla smiled up at him sweetly. "Sorry. Okay, Donny, here you go," she said, rattling off her card, expiry, and security numbers. "Now, I want two layers: one with vanilla and sprinkles, and the other with bubblegum."
"That's disgusting and I refuse to eat that," Donny muttered. "Okay, newbie's wondering if someone there actually killed a guy called Mr. Hamm, she's also worrying about how much these lunches are costing her when she's got bills and rent to pay; mostly, she just really wants to finish a damn coffee one time this week. It's Friday, I'm not holding out much hope for her."
"Uh huh, and the other one?" Layla asked, putting her card away.
"He's older than he looks, pretending not to pay much attention to anyone or anything other than his food, but he's sharp, Lay. He's using the reflection of the lantern painting's frame to watch you and Warren. Don't move suddenly, he's suspicious about what you're looking at."
"Warren, you said you were going to get me spring rolls?" Layla asked, holding the phone away and smiling up at him.
Warren's eyes narrowed slightly at her sweet tone and wondered just what the hell was going on with the phone call. "Sure thing, hippie. I'll be right back," he said, both a promise and a warning to not be left out of things, and he headed back to the kitchen.
When the door swung closed, Layla set a few seeds to grow in the kitchen, blocking the door from opening. If something happened here, she didn't want Warren implicated or harmed.
"Mr. Phillips' crime scene was covered in thorns, though there weren't any plants with thorns along that entire road. Old timer and newbie spent two hours walking it to check.
"Sagar had a business card for the Paper Lantern, and Hamm ordered food from there the night he was killed. Two times leads to a third pattern," Donny said.
"Shit," Layla cursed softly, but not softly enough, as she drew the detectives' attention. Smiling briefly, she put on a worried expression and returned her attention to her phone call. "How long until you can make and deliver the ice cream cake? The party's tonight."
"Short notice, Lay. I mean, if you want a picture printed on it, that's like an overnight thing."
"Seriously? Overnight for a picture? What, are you making the printer, too?"
Donny laughed, covering it with a slight cough. "Okay, fine. Twenty bucks off for the inconvenience."
"Twenty bucks off and free delivery."
"I'm going to be delivering it anyway, don't take that away," Donny muttered. "Old timer's still suspicious, newbie's distracted by the food Mei Ling's picked up from the serving window. Warren's coming back, you'd better let him out or this whole thing's going to blow up in your face. Not literally, ma'am! Ah, shit. I just lost two customers."
"I'll buy two damn cakes if you deliver them by six o'clock."
"Chocolate for one?"
"Fine. What else do you need, my first born, too?"
"Nah, you can keep the little brat. Everyone knows the real power's in the second born."
"If you make me laugh," Layla hissed in warning, a smile twitching at her lips.
"Yeah, I know. All right, old timer's distracted by his food now, too. He's still suspicious, but he's not going to arrest you. He'll come back later when Warren's not in to talk to the other staff about him."
Layla waited until the two detectives had left the building before turning her attention to Warren, who was sitting across from her impatiently waiting for an update, a small plate with spring rolls in front of her. "Ronnie?" she asked Donny, Warren frowning at her.
"Going to sing like a damn canary," Donny confirmed.
"Shit."
"Yep. And you can't do anything to him now, 'cause those detectives have a list of everyone on staff and they'll be super suspicious if he doesn't turn up to work again."
"What can we do, then?"
"I can wipe him. Just wait until table six has been served; they're about to lose their collective shit since the detectives arrived after them."
"They're a table of eight people."
"Doesn't matter to them," Donny said, shrugging.
Layla waited, watching as two more plates were added to the serving window and the bell was rung to indicate the order was complete. Mei Ling served the plates to the table, the customers calming down when they finally started to eat their food.
"Actually, bring him to the party tonight."
"What party? We're not... we're not throwing an actual party, Donny."
"We are now. If I wipe him now, I've only got enough time to do a clean slate for the last few months, which is even more suspicious. If I get him tonight, I can have more time to pick and choose the memories."
"Oh, for... Fine. Better make that vanilla and bubblegum one just plain vanilla."
"With sprinkles?"
"Sure, why not? How much are these ice cream cakes going to cost me, anyway?"
"Sixty - "
"Sixty?!"
"Each," Donny finished, pausing for a moment before adding, "Not including delivery."
"Does that include the twenty bucks off?" Layla asked incredulously.
"Yeah, it does."
"Super Jesus."
"I can do a picture of that, if you want?" Donny offered, grinning broadly.
"I hate you, Donny."
"Love you, too."
"Hippie, what the fuck is going on?" Warren asked when she finally hung up the phone. "It sounded like you were having three conversations there."
"I practically was," Layla said, shaking her head. "We're having a party tonight and we're inviting Ronnie."
"What? Why?"
"The party or Ronnie?"
"Both."
"The detectives are suspicious and are planning on talking to the other staff about you when you're not working next. Ronnie's going to sing like a canary and screw everything up for us. We're having a party because I ordered more than a hundred and twenty dollars worth of ice cream cakes and need to eat them, and Donny needs more time than this is going to give us to wipe Ronnie carefully."
"A hundred and twenty? How many cakes did you order?"
"Two."
"What the fuck?" Warren said incredulously.
"I know, right? We're in the wrong jobs," Layla muttered, shaking her head.
"Warren, back to work now!" Mrs. Woo called out.
"I'm coming, Mrs. Woo."
"In that case, you stay a few minutes more."
Layla burst out laughing as Warren turned red and muttered under his breath as he went back to the kitchen.
...
"What are we celebrating, dear?"
"I have no idea, honestly, Frieda. The party's mostly an excuse to get Ronnie here so Donny can wipe the memory of Warren being a super from him. Also, because I had to buy a lot of ice cream cake."
"Ronnie... Is that the young man who called you a ball and chain?" Frieda asked.
Layla wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, yes. I'd forgotten about that."
"Hmm. Maybe I should talk with him before Donny."
"He can't be hurt, Frieda."
Frieda frowned at Layla's words. "And why not?"
"It's just words, Frieda."
"It starts off with words, dear, and words can be just as awful as physical abuse," Frieda argued with the knowledge of experience. "I promise that I won't hurt him, but I'd still like to discuss his behaviour and manner with him."
"Okay. Thank you, Frieda," Layla said, hugging her.
"I'm always here for you, Layla dear. No matter what happens," Frieda said.
"I know. Thank you."
"Now, let's organise the house for this party. What kind of ice cream cakes are you getting?" Frieda asked as she headed downstairs with Layla behind her.
"One is vanilla and sprinkles, and the other one's chocolate."
"Nice selections. How about we make a big batch of that tofu curry you like? It's hot enough that everyone will want some ice cream cake afterwards to help soothe their mouths."
"Sounds good to me," Layla said. "I'll get the chickpeas out."
"Why not make it a sleepover for all of your friends? I'm sure they'd all like to spend the night with you, and the other parents would get a break."
Layla paused in her search for chickpeas, turning to look at Frieda with a frown. "That doesn't sound like a good enough reason to have fifteen teenagers in your house."
Frieda smiled. "Hyacinth is running a bet on when Connor and Victor will have sex, dear. I've got the next two weeks on the books, so the more time they spend together, the more likely they're going to do it."
"Oh. Eww. Why would you bet on that?"
"Despite what it looks like, bridge is an exceptionally boring card game, especially when you've played against the same players for years. We needed to liven our luncheons up somehow. Now, do you think they're more likely to adopt or get a surrogate?"
"I... Does Hyacinth have similar bets for the rest of us?"
"Of course she does, dear."
Layla opened and closed her mouth. "That's not fair."
"You're more than welcome to bet on us, dear, though I must admit we're terribly boring," Frieda said with a laugh. "Now, do you have those chickpeas?"
How on earth was the betting pool somehow worse than two detectives investigating them? Layla wondered, resuming her search of the pantry.
...
"Not gonna lie to you, Warren: this is the worst fucking party I've been to since I started drinking, legally or otherwise," Ronnie said with a sneer, taking a long drink of his beer.
"Not gonna lie to you, Ronnie: I don't give a fuck," Warren replied, sipping at his own drink of lemonade.
The smell of the beer made him feel nauseous and he couldn't imagine ever drinking the stuff. Besides, Craig had shown him that photo album Ida had put together of supers and drugs, whether alcohol, pills, or other. The spatial manipulation guy would forever be etched in Warren's memory. Or at least, the part of him that had his kidney in... Ugh, nope, Warren shuddered and pushed the memory away, his stomach turning.
"So, you said you were going to show me your power. Are you gonna or you gonna wimp out?"
Warren sighed and pushed Ronnie's face away from his. "You stink. Seriously, get the fuck away from me. Go bother someone else."
Ronnie backed up, and grinned, taking another drink. "Sure thing. I'll go bother your girlfriend, how about that? She looks like she wants someone with more experience anyway."
"Ah, there you are, young man. I've been meaning to talk to you," Frieda said, turning Ronnie around to face her abruptly, her eyes turning dark as she saw his secrets.
"Who're you?" Ronnie asked, laughing. "Warren, you didn't tell me your grandmother was gonna be here! We gonna start knitting soon, Grandma?"
"There's nothing wrong with knitting, and it's a skill that you could never master, especially not with an attitude like that. Now, come with me or so help me, I'll drag you myself."
"Yeah, whatever, old lady," Ronnie sneered, drinking down the last of his beer. "You really think you can do anything to me?" he asked, laughing at the very idea of a woman barely five foot dragging him anywhere.
"Dale Coward."
Ronnie paled. "Wh-what did you say?"
"You heard me, young man. This way," Frieda said, turning on her heel and leaving with Ronnie stumbling after her, demanding answers.
"Donny, would you keep an eye on them, make sure Ronnie doesn't do something stupid?" Layla asked.
"Sure, so long as someone tips his alcohol down the sink; the stuff stinks. And save me a piece of the chocolate ice cream cake," Donny called over his shoulder.
"I'll empty them," Heidi said, standing before anyone could argue.
"I'll help," Zach said, gathering the bottles and following after his sister.
"Just like old times," Heidi muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Adam, could you - "
"Look into Dale Coward? Already doing it," he said with a grin.
"Thanks."
"I'll start serving up the cake. Anyone have a preference for vanilla or chocolate?" Warren asked.
A myriad of answers came from his friends, with more chocolate than vanilla in the end.
"Should've got bubblegum," Layla said with a sigh.
"There was an option for bubblegum and you didn't get it? I'm severely disappointed, Layla," Craig tutted, shaking his head.
"Next time, you pay sixty dollars plus delivery for a cake, and you can get whatever you want," Layla replied.
"Why on earth would you pay sixty dollars for a cake?" Ethan asked. "You realise that Zach could've just made the ice cream cake himself, right?"
"I needed Donny for a thing; this was the only way we could both do it without arousing suspicion or getting Donny fired."
"Whose suspicion were you arousing, exactly?" Jewel asked, frowning.
"Two detectives."
"Wait, what? Why? How?" Wendy asked.
"What did you do to arouse their suspicion?" Grant asked.
"Can everyone stop saying arouse? You're confusing me! I don't know if I should be turned on or not!"
"Craig, please calm down. Layla, explain," Ethan said with a frown.
"We're not getting into this just to get arrested without even doing anything, right?" Terrence asked.
"Toy robot fighting Jetstream and the Commander ringing any bells?" Robin asked pointedly.
"Yeah, but... Shit."
"Butt shit," Craig said, giggling.
"Oh, Super Jesus. What is wrong with you?" Wendy muttered.
"Might've had a sip of what's-his-face's drink. Thought it was mine 'cause we've got the same can cooler thingy. I don't like this. I want to puke," he groaned.
"If you puke on the carpet, you're replacing it. It's a very expensive carpet, Craig," Layla muttered. "Can someone help him, please?"
"Help him puke?" Grant asked.
"I guess so?"
"It's likely that he'd get his stomach pumped if we went to the hospital, so making him reject the alcohol before more gets into his bloodstream is likely to be helpful. Although, vomiting isn't always the best course of action. Ingesting coal is more likely to soak it up, as vomiting will probably hurt his throat," Ethan said.
"So, what? We shove a piece of coal down his throat instead?" Jewel asked incredulously.
"That can't be healthy. Babe, hey, look at me. Anyone you can shift to that will make this go through your system faster?" Grant asked.
"Is it wise to trust Craig's ability to shift while he is intoxicated?"
"He had a sip, Ethan."
"A sip of potent alcohol that he's never had before. Besides, we're supers; alcohol affects us differently than it does citizens. I knew I should've taken photos of Ida's photo album."
"Ugh, no. We all remember it, okay? It was a mistake, that's all," Grant muttered. "Craig, babe, come on. Jewel and I are going to look after you, okay?"
"Wassat mean?" Craig asked, his eyes narrowing at them suspiciously.
"Hey, alcohol moves faster through the system when blood pumps faster, doesn't it?" Jewel asked Ethan, who shrugged in response.
"No, it doesn't. A person's liver breaks down the alcohol at 0.016%, no matter how fast the heart pumps blood. In citizens, that's around one glass per hour, but it also depends on how much alcohol is in the drink," Zach said as he returned to the dining room with Heidi. "Why are you asking?"
"I had a sip of idiot face's drink and - why are you upside down?" Craig asked.
"You're upside down, Craig," Zach said, frowning.
"Oh. Hey. I'm upside down!"
"So we can't do anything? We just have to wait?" Grant asked.
Zach nodded. "He should be fine in an hour. Maybe two. It's always different for supers. Heidi, can you - "
"Put the kettle on? Yeah, I know the drill. Layla, where's the green tea?" Heidi asked.
"Oh, there's some in the pantry. Why green tea?" Layla asked, following Heidi to the kitchen.
"Protects the liver from alcohol damage. Supposedly, at least. Asparagus will help his liver, too," Heidi said, filling the kettle with water.
"Asparagus is gross, don't make me eat it."
"Get off the roof, Craig."
"You've got lots of cobwebs in this chandelier, Lay."
"Want to dust while you're up there?"
Craig blinked and considered it for a moment. "Nah."
"Can someone explain what the hell is going on?" Warren asked, setting the last bowl of ice cream cake on the serving tray he'd found.
"Craig drank some of Ronnie's alcohol by accident. This is the result," Layla said, placing the green tea on the counter.
"He becomes Spider-Man?"
"Apparently. That's a lot of cake."
"You'd hope so, after spending sixty bucks on it."
"Hmm. Does it taste good?" Layla asked, taking a bowl off the tray and eating a spoonful.
"I have no idea; I've been serving it up, not eating it."
"It's good," she said around her mouthful, scooping up another spoonful for Warren to taste.
Heidi wrinkled her nose at them - sharing spoons was gross, not to mention totally unhygienic - and made up a pot of green tea for Craig, who was now collapsed on a stool and draped on the bench.
"Are we ever going to get - oh, gross. In the kitchen, dude, seriously?" Adam asked, groaning and covering his eyes.
"My kitchen, my rules," Layla said, grinning against Warren's lips.
"Gross," Heidi confirmed with Adam.
"Thank you! Can we get the ice cream cake now? Without your gross germs all over it?" Adam added, glowering at Layla and Warren.
"Craig ate four," Heidi informed them, seeing the empty bowls and ice cream smeared around Craig's mouth.
"Ah, shit. If he wanted to puke before, he's definitely going to want to puke now," Adam muttered. "You got a bucket, Layla?"
"Yeah, in the laundry. I'll go get it," she said, ducking around Adam to go to the laundry.
As Layla passed the sitting room further down the hall, she heard sobbing from inside the room. Curious, she looked inside and found Ronnie sobbing on the couch with Donny and Frieda sitting across from him.
"It's all right, dear. Let it all out. He won't hurt you again," Frieda murmured, offering Ronnie another tissue.
Deciding that Craig was more important to her right then, Layla continued down to the laundry to get the bucket. After finding it under the laundry sink, Returning to the kitchen, she winced upon seeing the green colour Craig had turned. Adam grabbed the bucket and held it in front of his friend before he threw up.
"S'always carrots," Craig muttered, frowning.
"The smell... I can't stay here."
Several of their friends agreed with Zach and left with him. Adam looked queasy himself, but stayed with Craig and rubbed his back gently as he threw up. Layla set a vine to loop around Craig's curls and keep them back off his face, Jewel and Grant standing by in worry and watching. Warren returned with an antibacterial deodoriser and waited until Craig had stopped before spraying it into the air.
"Come on, let's get you in the lounge room and settled to sleep. That should be okay," Layla said, uncertain but sure that Ethan would be researching what to do with a semi-drunk super in the lounge room.
"Green tea first," Heidi said, nodding to the mug on the bench that she'd poured earlier. "It helps."
"Thank you, Heidi," Jewel said warmly, Grant signing beside her.
Heidi smiled and signed 'you're welcome' back to them. Layla took the bucket before Adam decided to add to it and left to the laundry, passing by the room where Ronnie was still sobbing. Glancing into the room, Layla saw that Ronnie was now crying in Frieda's arms, while Donny was sitting across from him, his hand splayed in front of Ronnie's face.
"We've set up the lounge room when you're finished and ready," Wendy said, poking her head into the kitchen to find Craig sitting at the kitchen bench and looking pale as he sipped at his green tea.
"Set it up how?" Warren asked curiously.
"An abundance of blankets, pillows, that sort of thing. We're still arguing if it's a nest or a blanket fort," she said with a laugh, heading back to the lounge room.
By the time Layla had returned, Craig had finished his tea, and they were getting ready to go to the lounge room.
"What's going on?"
"Blanket fort and/or nest in the lounge room," Warren said.
"Ah, that explains the argument I heard," Layla said, shaking her head as she followed the others to the lounge room.
"It's got blankets, it's obviously a blanket fort!"
"That only works if the blankets are in a fort design! These ones are in the nest!"
"Ha, so you agree it's a nest!"
"They're really getting into this, aren't they?" Jewel asked, grinning.
"They're using the argument to hide their worry. I don't know that it's working very well," Terrence said with a shrug.
"Don't you drag me into this!"
"All right, Craig's here and we're going to watch a movie! Any suggestions?" Layla asked loudly, interrupting the conversation.
Wendy, Zach, and Ethan looked over immediately, all three relaxing slightly when they saw that Craig was okay, if a little pale.
"Are you okay, Craig?" Zach asked, stepping forward.
Craig shook his head, his curls escaping the vine. He started sobbing, his voice broken. "Why didn't he love me?"
"Oh, babe. C'mere," Jewel murmured, tugging Craig close and hugging him.
"Who?" Robin asked in a whisper.
Ethan adjusted his glasses and frowned. "His father, most likely."
"Oh."
Without talking or planning it, they all converged around Craig to hug him and offer support and love.
"Frieda's driving Ronnie home. Are we having an orgy and no one told me?" Donny asked, looking into the lounge room in confusion.
"Craig had some beer accidentally and he's upset so we're showing him he's loved," Ethan explained.
"So we are having an orgy?"
"What? No, dude. We're just cuddling the shit out of Craig," Zach said.
"Close enough," Donny said, shrugging.
"Here we go, babe. Come on, lie down with me," Grant coaxed gently, lying on the blankets and tugging Craig down beside him.
"What if you stop loving me?"
"Not gonna happen, babe," Grant promised fiercely, kissing him gently.
"You don't know that. You can't know that. People stop loving each other all the time," Craig pointed out, his body shivering. "What if you stop loving me?" he asked, looking to Jewel.
She shook her head adamantly. "If you love me, I'll always love you."
Craig's eyes widened and he paled, his freckles stark across his skin. "What if I stop loving you?"
"Ouch, dude. You're in, what, your first six months of dating?" Donny asked, rolling his eyes. "Treat it as if you'll be in love forever, don't be surprised if you're not."
"Seriously?" Wendy asked her boyfriend.
"I'm a realist, Wendy, and most relationships don't work out."
"Yeah, but there are plenty that do."
"What if we all stop loving each other?" Craig asked, horrified.
"Nah, not gonna happen. I've been stuck with you for, like, a hundred years already; what's the rest of our lives?" Adam said, throwing a throw pillow at his best friend.
"We're not going anywhere, babe," Jewel confirmed, Grant moving so that Craig was tucked up against his chest, wrapping his arms around their boyfriend.
"Promise?"
"Promise," Grant and Jewel chorused, Jewel kissing his cheek.
"Why are you being so nice to Craig?" Ethan asked Donny curiously.
"I accidentally got drunk when I was a kid, so I know what he's going through. Just because it's an internal power, it doesn't make it any less traumatic, especially as a ten-year old. I was hearing thoughts on and off for a week; I thought I'd damaged my power permanently," Donny said, shaking his head.
"What did you do?" Wendy asked, sounding horrified.
"I was ten years old, I did what any ten-year-old would do: ignore it and hope it would fix itself. It did, but it was not a fun week," Donny said, tucking his arm around Wendy when she curled against his chest.
His tone stopped further questions, and silence filled the lounge room for a long moment.
"All right, someone choose a movie to watch and let's all get settled in," Layla said, organising a pillow and lying back to look up at the ceiling.
"What about a romantic movie?" Robin suggested, their cheeks pink.
"As long as you don't mind me commenting on how stupid the characters are, sure thing," Warren said, grinning.
"Yeah, romantic movies are stupid," Terrence groaned.
"Hey, I didn't say the movies are stupid, just the characters. Some plot lines aren't too bad," Warren said with a shrug.
"Why do you watch those sorts of movies?"
"I have a single mother who had control of the TV remote for most of my childhood. Besides, they're movies, not a representation of my gender," Warren said, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, dork," Robin said, poking their tongue out at Terrence.
"Do you have a favourite?" Jewel asked curiously, carding her fingers through Craig's hair.
"If any of you tell my mum, I'll deny it 'til my dying breath, but I actually like Sleepless in Seattle. Mum thinks I hate it, so she makes me watch it for revenge or when I'm being shitty and it's her turn to choose the movie," Warren said, grinning.
"You, being shitty? Never."
"Shut up, Adam."
"Adam's got too many syllables," Craig groaned from somewhere under Grant with Donny's legs on his stomach.
"Two syllables is too many?" Terrence asked, frowning.
"Yeah, should be one. Like Ace 'cause it's short for Acidic and asexual. Twofer with one syllable," Craig said, his voice a mumble towards the end.
"What? I didn't know you were asexual," Terrence said in surprise.
Adam shrugged. "I'm not exactly advertising it. Craig still shouldn't have outed me. Not cool, dude," he said, without any heat in his voice.
A deep snore came in response. Grant and Jewel both visibly relaxed at the sound, and even Adam looked relieved.
"So, what movie are we watching?" Zach asked.
Heidi held up The Notebook, and grinned at them all, knowing they had no choice since no one else had picked a movie. When they agreed, she stood and put the DVD in the player, then settled back on the pile of blankets and pillows and bodies.
"Warren won't be the only one yelling at stupid characters. Threatening her with his death if she didn't go out with him was manipulative and tacky," Layla said, wrinkling her nose.
"Totally agreed. Want to recreate the kiss scene, Donny?" Wendy asked, grinning.
"I don't know what scene you're talking about," he admitted, moving slightly so he could see the TV screen better.
"You haven't seen The Notebook?" Wendy asked incredulously, Donny shrugging in response.
"Shh!" Heidi demanded as the movie started playing, everyone falling silent and paying attention to the screen.
Layla and Warren weren't the only ones who yelled at the characters, but Craig didn't stir from his sleep once, surrounded by love and laughter, his friends keeping a careful eye on him throughout the night.
...
End of the ninety-fourth chapter.
