Falling from grace, he thought, sounds more like a cat elegantly twisting through the air to land on its feet rather than what the words really meant to convey: tumbling, hurtling, spasming between ground and sky, and the sickening inevitability of impact.

The nurse's office was quiet, dark. Meghan was here under the pretense that she had suffered a massive migraine and all the lights were off; no visitors were admitted except him and now that classes were done for the day, his objective was to smuggle her out of school without doing any more damage to her ego or having her spirited off by Seelie, Unseelie, or otherwise parties.

Puck sighed. Whatever happened to those normal, uneventful birthdays where everyone forgot that she existed and didn't sic computers on her (admittedly, ill-chosen) crush or have her faery father demanding that she forever be cut off from the magic that was her birthright? Let alone forgetting everything- but most importantly forgetting him, Robbie Goodfell, pretend human and not-pretend best friend.

Or, at least, so he thought. With his status of best friend he knew he'd give up many things, sure. But, ultimately, any rogue always has self-preservation in mind. Promises were the only things that could hold him down and though he had a lie, he'd have to choose which promise he wanted to escape from carefully.

Breaking a vow to serve Oberon seemed useless: as a Summer fey, he knew all things would come back to Arcadia for him one way or another. Other vows, though, were more pliable.

A promise to be a best friend, for example, that was just about as lifelong and requirement as much commitment as if he'd-

-but he hadn't made her that kind of promise. And if things went the way they were going, he never would. So what use was there in treating this friendship with the same devotion normally reserved for something so much greater?

He watched her lips part and meet as she breathed.

Puck thrived in deceitful complication, twisting situations to his benefit, but weird as it was to say it, here when he should be feeling more comfortable about a faery version of Meghan Chase, he was starting to miss those silly inflatable castles at birthday parties and acquiring cakes for her when her parents forgot.

Happiness, he thought as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from Meghan's eyes, seemed so much easier to attain then. His fingers wanted so badly to follow the curve of her face, but a sound halted him.

"Thought you went home for the day." Puck's eyes glinted too-green as the nurse, in her human guise, stood by the office door.

"I'm on my way out." She noted, quirking a brow at her patient. "Hmm. I would have expected her to be awake by now, considering the dosage of the herbal potion I gave her, but I guess it can't be helped."

"'Can't be helped?'" Puck repeated, acerbic. "What if you put her to sleep for a decade? Fat chance even I'll be able to guard Sleeping Beauty that long."

"Sometimes," the nurse retorted knowledgeably, in a voice not to be overridden, "people just want to stay asleep. Even without a sleeping potion, they'll linger just outside of reality in the effort to make a bad experience go away. That girl's had quite the day of bad experiences, as you'd do well to remember, Robin. And, as you're likely to drag her into many more, I suggest you let her rest as long as she needs to."

Puck felt ire sear the tip of his tongue. How on earth did one gnome matron predict him better than centuries of sidhe and mortals when it came to Meghan? It was uncanny.

"Now," the nurse continued primly, "as I was saying before, his lordship will likely have you give her the mistwine soon. The computers yesterday were something, but it seems more forces have been set into motion now. It will only get worse and worse the longer you delay."

"I know, I know." He replied, curt, never taking his eyes off Meghan's face, even as the door closed behind the nurse and she reminded him to lock it.

Plans, thoughts throbbed through his head, heavy like fathoms of roiling waves crushing him down to the sea floor, rendering him immobile with their weight. Implications and schemes were regarded and discarded in turn as he rested his forehead on the bedpost, the cool touch of the wood comforting and familiar.

He took a deep breath and eyed the clock. They were running out of time.

About to grab Meghan by her shoulders and gently shake her awake, he was surprised to see her eyelids flutter open.

"Hey, princess." Instantly, switching back to his regular teasing tone, he grinned, hoping she hadn't seen his joker mask slip. "Welcome back to the world of the living. How'd you like being a zombie? Should I try it or is it all just hype?"

"Rob." She said, blankly, as though establishing this as fact. Her face seemed like it had been worn down by sea and sand as she sat up and sighed. "'World of the living', huh? After today, zombie life is starting to look pretty good. I'm really not sure how much I want to go back."

Ooh, dramatic.

He would be more interested in the hardships of the teenage soul, Puck thought, if there weren't an innumerable amount of faeries hot on their heels, just waiting and salivating themselves silly at the thought of getting their hands on Meghan, either for use as a bargaining chip or for their own dark purposes. Hell, hadn't he even seen ice boy out in the woods this morning? Never a good sign to have Mab's number one son skulking around-

But Meghan spoke again and its sound pulled on his heart like it was only so many strings her fingers had happened to brush across, resonating like one of Leanansidhe's fine instruments.

Her voice was slipping, as though it were releasing its last grip on control and sliding into the raspy abyss of untamed vocal chords and mania. "The pictures they made, that they would go through so much effort to wreck my life." She swallowed, eyes red and prickling with tears, her breath coming fast. "God, Robbie, I've never had anybody hate me before! I thought being ignored was the worst, not having anyone care, but this, getting singled out like this, I'll have to transfer schools, probably even move... I never wanted it to be like this, I can't live this down..."

"Hey," he said softly, stroking her hair, cautious at first then more sure of himself. We have to leave. Just forget about it, princess. If you want, I'll turn them all into rats and you can laugh at them until your stomach's sore. Besides, they're not all that important anyway.

He felt the words forming on his tongue, quick as always, when she threw herself abruptly around him.

As fast as the words had come, they faded, dissolving in his mouth like cheap candy. And maybe that's what they were, when he thought about it. Everything he said was engineered to appease, enrapture, or persuade, from the sweetest blandishments to his most tart of teases. When had he last said anything he truly meant?

He could only think of a handful of occasions, most of them promises, and one of which he'd been debating going back on.

So, for once, Puck said nothing and tricked no one. He just held a newly sixteen-year-old girl lightly to his chest and breathed softly, his body saying for him all the words Meghan needed: that he was still here.

She clung at him, as one falling from a great height, and cried.

-o-

Maybe it was the tears, he thought as he walked back "home" from the bus stop (it wasn't like there was an actual home involved, he just tended to walk along the roadside and vanish into the greenery), kicking at small, gravel stones. Maybe it was just the damned tears that were making him feel this way, making him even consider this...

Delaying the mistwine was one thing, but outright refusing to give it to her, well... it would certainly make for interesting gossip back in the Nevernever, that was for sure.

Puck avoided looking at the woods as he walked. If he had, he would have seen the beckoning hands of trees trying to draw him in, the willows whispering that the Erlking was expecting him, that the ruler of the Summer Kingdom was close by, infusing the very air with life in the middle of autumn. He could tell they were excited, energized by the idea of passing Summer royalty, but he certainly wasn't.

He already knew how the trees would shiver at his monarch's presence. He'd seen it enough before. They didn't say "Oberon passing fell and wrath" for nothing.

At least the nurse hadn't seen him add a touch of pig to that cheerleader, so maybe there was something good about today after all.

"Robin."

Scratch that.

"You ignored my summons." The Erlking rose out of the woods as though on a tide of tree branches and leaves. Puck hadn't thought that his liege would make his presence known so close to a road, but then again, Ash had done it. Maybe it was becoming a fashion amongst royals today: do stupid things and make your Puck clean up after you.

Puck bowed good-naturedly."What, me forget a summons? Impossible."

Thunder rumbled overhead, as though in preparation for a summer storm. Oberon's eyes were thinned with a coldness reminiscent of lightning, the electricity not caring what it struck down so long as it had its means to the ground, as long as its conditions were met for stability. Oberon was a lot like that, the forked lightning seeking least resistance in accomplishing his tasks.

"I will not ask for an oath," the Summer King intoned, "since you seem so set on skirting them whenever given the chance. But know this, Robin, the consequences of Meghan Chase gaining the Sight are dire. If you do not do as you were bid then be forewarned that not even being the favorite of the Summer Court can save you from chastisement."

"Duly noted." Puck replied darkly, eyes still fixed on the gravel road leading to Meghan's house. "Guess I should get going, then."

-o-

And see? Look what happened when he left her alone: ambush by changeling and serious leg injury. Honestly, if Oberon was so dead set against his daughter finding out about Faery, or really staying alive at all, then his best bet was to schedule meetings with Puck at crucial moments and stop him saving her from the bad guys.

Meghan's hair fanned out around her like an angry golden halo as she lay on the couch, twisted and almost sinister in the semi-dark of the living room. It seemed to him the color of luxury, all the precious metals in the world mixed into an unholy alloy. He felt avaricious and angry all at the same time- how could anyone hurt her, knowing how displaced she was between Faery and this world? Moreover, how could anyone hurt her knowing she was under his protection and that there would be hell to pay?

She'd accepted the mistwine without comment. He hadn't wanted to give her too much, but a little had been necessary. Oberon was right: her Sight was strong enough to withstand the effects- Puck'd seen it develop much more rapidly during her fifteenth year than ever before- she'd have to drink quite a portion in order to really forget everything for good. Which was good, but did pose a problem in getting her to relax.

Because really, how could anyone be expected to sleep when they knew their normally docile little brother had treated their leg as no more than a light snack of chips and salsa?

"So, princess," he said, sprawled out along the loveseat, "it feels like I'm always playing Prince Charming, waking you up from your myriad slumbers."

Meghan lurched forward and stared at him.

"What happened? What..." Her brows knit in confusion. "What was that thing?"

Puck grinned sheepishly. "Oh boy. You ask some real kickers when you wake up, you know that? But then again, for a friend of mine, you sure don't like being tricked."

Meghan stuck her tongue out and winced as she tried to put weight on her injured leg. "It's because you play so many tricks that I have a deeper appreciation for the truth than most people. So, tell me, Robbie. What happened to Ethan? Why'd he go ballistic and bite my leg? Truthfully," she added emphasis to the word, "what's wrong with him?"

"Truthfully?" Puck repeated, amused, balancing the empty vial of mistwine on the tip of his finger so that it caught the light. "Truthfully, princess, there are some things that you're probably better off not knowing. Some things in this crazy world of ours you can't just shut out once you've seen; it becomes a part of you. You only have the chance to say yes or no once, and your choice in that one, wild moment determines your destiny. Funny, huh?" He flicked the bottle up and caught it deftly. "It all happens in a flash."

He nodded to her bandaged calf. "Oh, and be careful walking on that. You still need some time to recover, but at least you'll keep the leg."

"Keep the leg?" Meghan repeated his words incredulously. "Look, Robbie, we've been best friends for as long as I can remember. More than ever I've gotten the feeling that you know a whole lot more about what's going on than I do. And, if it's going to help me bring Ethan back to normal and not trying to kill me or my mom, then I want to know what's happening."

Puck set the bottle down and turned away from her, his face hidden in the shadows cast by the kitchen lights. "Do you really mean that? Remember what I said about only getting one chance. Really think about it. I can make you forget everything that happened: the people at school won't remember today, your brother will seem a little snotty, but you'll see him as normal. You'll have," he paused, "other friends at school. You could have everything that you've wanted."

"Or," he looked back at her over his shoulder, a strange fire in his eyes, making him seem half-wild himself, "you can have the truth."

Meghan shivered.

He couldn't blame her. He was shivering, too, though he was trying hard not to show it. Here he was, defying centuries upon centuries of subservience and good favors, all for a human girl he'd risked so much to keep from forgetting him, and now he'd handed her her own destiny. If she chose to forget, he would be powerless to stop her, all his hard work undone by the one he was trying to save. It was like defending someone and then pointing his dagger at himself, waiting for her say or whether or not he should strike.

Heart pounding, he watched as Meghan took a deep breath and seemed to compose herself.

"What do you take me for?" She seethed. "I mean, come on!"

Puck stepped back a pace. He certainly hadn't expected this.

"I'm not going to just let Ethan stick his hand into ovens or trip Mom and pretend that it's all okay." Meghan rounded on him like a fury. "And since when did it become okay for you to keep stuff from me? We're best friends for crying out loud, doesn't that mean anything to you? No matter how weird or life-altering you say they might be, I don't want there to be secrets between us, Robbie."

Puck was caught half-way between shock and laughter. Hysterics had never been something he was prone to, but at this moment, he felt himself lapsing dangerously close to them in his glee.

"Alright, you win. But don't say I didn't warn you." His eyes danced with a strange mirth. "Some of my secrets are a lot darker than you think."

Meghan rolled her eyes. "Try me."

And with that, he gave into uninhibited gales of laughter. He might be falling, sure, but he was going to enjoy the weightlessness of the free-fall every chance he got.


Author's Note:

Thanks to everyone for reading! I'm so glad that people are liking this! I reworked this one a lot since I wasn't sure what scenes I wanted to include, but I'm pretty happy with the final product. My job's been a little intense, so this took a little longer than I thought it would.

Enjoy and, as always, it's great to hear from you guys!

-cy.