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Pyrophilic

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Chapter 9

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Authors notes:

Welcome to the conclusion of Pyrophilic.

Hope you're ready, please enjoy.


Trust is a strange thing.

It is often treated in the same light as other emotions, such as love or hate. Something you can feel towards another person, sparked by an event or an interaction. But trust is perhaps the most ephemeral concept a person can use in this way.

Unlike love or hate, trust does not have a solid emotional manifestation. You can feel love; when you tell someone 'I love you' you can feel the emotion in your heart and in your stomach. Love can make you feel tangible things, like happiness. You can feel hate; when you tell someone 'I hate you', you can feel the emotion in your chest and your throat. Hate can make you feel tangible things, like anger.

Someone can make you fall in love with them or make you hate them; through the things they do or the words they say.

Trust, however, cannot be felt in the same way as love or hate. It does not have a tangible emotional response that can be pinpointed as evidence of its existence. It is something you place in someone, not something you feel towards someone. It's an acknowledgement of a faith, a recognition that this person makes you feel safe.

And 'safe' isn't something we feel, not really. Safe is the word we attribute to the absence of threat or worry. It's the calm void that exists when we are not anxious of what may happen next. Anything we do feel when we feel safe is just our base state. The tranquility in us all that comes out when it's safe to do so.

So how do you create trust? How do you know when you have it?

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— 3 months later —

The decay of winter seemed to have been all for naught, as bright colorful buds of life began to sprout from the barren branches and stems. The ice had thawed, the nights were warmer, and new leaves caught the breeze, buffeting the wind to a calming rustling white noise. A miraculous rebirth, repeated every year, made all the more vibrant by the desolation it was now displacing. The very essence of spring, to bring forth new life in the wake of the death that preceded it.

There was a reason that Persephone, the goddess who brought the spring, was also the goddess of the dead.

Anya sat at a picnic table outside, sandwich in one hand, pen in the other, as she multitasked to fit in a little bit of studying between classes. Also, she needed a way to distract herself from the stories that were coming out of the girl in front of her.

Becky continued, ignorant of her effects on Anya.

"And then he squeezed just tight enough that I literally passed out, isn't that insane!? When I woke up he was all worried and freaking out, he was so cute. But apparently at some point when I passed out my arm hit the can of whip cream, which fell over and exploded everywhere. We were cleaning it for like an hour."

"Hmmm." Anya replied, noncommittally.

She wasn't mad at Becky, not at all. Anya knew her friend was just really excited to share things that happened in her life, and Anya couldn't blame her for that.

However, that didn't mean she needed to fully engage with Becky's tale of how great her love life has been.

The silence was long enough that Anya tuned back in and looked up. False alarm, Becky just took a moment to pop a baby carrot in her mouth. After she finished, she started back up, and Anya tuned back out.

"So anyway the other day we were playing sexy monopoly, right? That's where instead of money, you…"

Anya nodded absentmindedly, and continued to write in her notebook.

Becky was a good friend, current circumstances notwithstanding. She was there for Anya when she really needed it, and that's what counted. And in the weeks after her date, she did need it.

She hadn't seen or spoken to Damian since that night. He didn't come home before she eventually fell asleep, and was moved out by the time she woke up. He left the boxes of cranes, and a note thanking her parents for letting him stay there.

She'd gone back and forth over that night a million times, at least. Retracing every action and word. At first, she wanted to find a way to say she was wrong. After failing that enough times, she just relived it to feel him again.

She knew it wasn't what she should be doing. She knew that night was the closure she needed to move on, and that she should embrace it, process it, and then finally let go. But something was persistent in her. Like an invisible weight on her soul, she looked everywhere to find it, but never could. She only knew it was there when she tried to move and she felt it anchoring her in place.

Still, it wasn't like she hadn't had any progress. She didn't cry herself to sleep anymore; she could look at the cranes without spiraling; even just a couple weeks ago, she went a whole day without re-reading old text messages.

Whether that was actual progress towards letting go, or just a built up tolerance to the memories that numbed the pain, she couldn't say.

She heard her name, and came back to reality.

"Anya, Anya~. Are you listening?"

"Yup, I'm here. Hi."

"Hi. So?"

"So…. that sounded exciting." Anya tried to feign a plausible reaction to whatever Becky had said.

"Yeah no you weren't listening. I was talking about that thing. The thing I asked George to look into for you?"

"Oh. Right."

"He said he might know someone. Someone nice. They said they'd like to meet you. We were thinking about going on a double date, on Thursday night." Becky hesitated. "... If you don't want to, that's totally fine."

"Ah. No no… I… I can't. I have that overnight stargazing trip, for astronomy class."

"Oh, right. Okay. Well if you change your mind let us know, we'll come with, just a casual hang out, no pressure." Becky reached over and put a hand on Anya's. "No pressure." She repeated.

Anya smiled at her. "Thanks." And went back to her food and homework.

Becky was the one that brought it up, but Anya had agreed, at least logically, that it was the next logical step to moving on. Just because it still didn't feel right, didn't mean she shouldn't make an effort. What if it never feels right again?

Still, she was thankful she could use the trip as an excuse not to go.

Anya looked up just in time to see George sit down next to Becky, giving a sickeningly sweet eskimo kiss to her as he did. Anya is sure her face didn't give away what she was feeling at that moment.

"Hello, Miss Anya. How are you today?"

"Great, just, y'know, enjoying my sandwich while listening to, uh, girl talk." She took a sip from her coffee to hide her awkwardness.

"Ah, yes. So I take it Becky has asked you to be her maid of honor?"

Anya immediately spit the entire contents of that sip into the grass as Becky spun around to face him. "What's that now?"

"I… Forgive me, I just figured you would have asked her by now."

"And why, my love, would I be asking her something like that?"

George began to sweat. "Be…. cause you agreed to marry me? Last night?"

Becky unconsciously crushed the sandwich she was holding between her fingers, and nodded briskly. She leaned in and whispered. "... Did you ask me to marry you while I was passed out?"

George blushed slightly. "No! No, don't… don't you remember? When we were in your room after dinner? I asked if you would make me the happiest man alive and you said yes."

Becky's face was turning bright red as she fidgeted in her seat. "George. Dear. You. I. I thought, you were asking for… what we did…. right after that ."

George stared blankly at her. The cogs began to turn in his head. "Oh…." As comprehension made its way to the forefront of his brain, his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. "Oh…. O-ohhh…. That explains a lot…"

Anya quickly got up and loaded her things into her bag. "Well this was fun, but I have to go to my next class. I'll leave you two to figure this out. Bye!" Anya walked off without waiting for acknowledgement, knowing it wasn't likely to come, with all the sputtering that was going on between the two.

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The halls of the new dorms were quiet, but that wasn't surprising. Even though spring break was still two days away, all the students and staff had already vacated the facility. Most of them were packed up and on their way to their family, or in transit to a spring getaway. The two weeks they were afforded wasn't much, but it was a needed reprieve before the next trimester started up.

Damian didn't mind. Compared to the usual chaos, he quite liked the deserted atmosphere that was left behind.

At the very least, the peace made his current task a more somber affair. Having people around while he packed would have made it harder. He himself wasn't leaving until Friday, but he knew that day would be busy, so he was packing now.

The weeks after the date were hard to bear, but easy to accept. He knew he did everything he could, and he knew his failure was his alone. Moping about wasn't going to make him feel any better about it, nor was it going to change anything in his life.

And his life was for sure changing. He felt he owed it to both himself and Anya to make sure he continued to better his circumstances.

Not everything was changing, of course. He still didn't feel right moving on, so he hadn't. But he'd accepted those feelings, and decided to focus on himself. Love may come again, or may not, he couldn't tell yet. But he was damn sure he didn't want to try and quench anything that was still burning in his heart just yet.

Damian smiled as he finished packing his backpack and set it next to the rest of his packed things. This one was for a different trip, but it was no less important.

He looked at the time, noticing he should head out soon since the sun had already set. He was nervous, because why wouldn't he be?

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Feeling that this wasn't going to get any easier, he grabbed his pack and headed out the door of his room.

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A warm spring breeze blew through the grass hill, sending waves and ripples into the vegetation. It would be a scenic vista, had there been enough light to enjoy it. On this night, however, the new moon and remote location ensured that the only light was that of billions of fusion fires burning hundreds of light years away. And there wasn't a cloud in the sky to hide them.

Anya laid inclined on a lonely hillside in a remote region of the Grunewalt forest, outside of Berlint. Laying on top of a sleeping bag, spread out on a large blanket. Her head was propped up on a pillow she brought, and she had a large pair of binoculars up to her eyes.

The astronomy class trip had a parcel of land they were assigned to set up camp for the night, but that was about it for coordination. Most of the students that signed up had to find their own ride there, and once they arrived it was up to them to find a spot. Though Anya had carpooled with some classmates in her track, she decided to find a camping spot for herself, secluded from the rest.

The serenity was doing wonders for her mind. The seclusion had the added benefit of not having to overhear any of the classmates that happened to bring a significant other, something she wasn't worried about until she found herself in the minority of attendees when she arrived.

Anya set down her stargazing binoculars and picked up her notebook. Using a small red light lamp so as not to ruin her night vision, she quickly jotted down her observations for the later report.

She looked back up in the sky and lost herself for a moment. The only sounds were the occasional breeze, a lonely cricket or two. If she stared at any given point in the sky long enough, she could start to feel herself fall into it. Like it was the ground and she was just lying on the underside of a cloud, ready to gently glide to the starry surface.

She brought her binoculars back up to her eyes and started a new search.

She was right in the middle of counting the stars in the Pleiades cluster when all their fires suddenly extinguished. No explosion, no fade out, one second they were there, the next they weren't. She scanned around, only to discover that every surrounding star had also gone out.

Confused, she lowered her binoculars and was met with a silhouette of a person standing very close, their head blocking her view.

She screamed.

Damian screamed back, retreating a step back and slipping on the hill and falling on his ass.

Anya sat up and turned around to face the intruder. Now that his face wasn't in the shadow of the stars, she could make out who it was.

"D-Damian?!"

Damian winced as he rubbed where he landed, and then cautiously waved.

"Hey"

Anya let her heart slow down and the adrenaline subside before she tried to understand what was in front of her. Damian, meanwhile, sat up to a kneeling position, hands patiently on his knees.

Damian ventured out first. "Sorry about that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought you'd hear me walking up. But when you didn't, well, old habits die hard I suppose." He hazarded a nervous chuckle.

In spite of herself, Anya let out a single laugh.

"What. What are you doing here?"

"Do you mean, like, why am I here in this forest or here next to you?"

"Yes."

"Ah, sure. Well, we're both in this class, remember? They mixed tracks for the stargazing trip. And I signed up. As for why I'm here here…" Damian looked away, still rubbing the back of his neck. "I… was looking for you. I was wondering if… you wouldn't mind some company? For a little while?"

Anya silently regarded the man in front of her. She didn't know how she was feeling about seeing him again, but she did know it was a complex, messy pile of emotions. But at least some of that was happiness.

"If-if you don't want to, that's totally fine. I can go find an-"

"No! No. I'd… I'd love the company."

"Great! Yeah, thanks…" Damian took off his backpack and pulled out a blanket, setting it down next to hers. He grabbed his binoculars and set them to the side.

Anya cautiously returned to laying against the hill, joined shortly by Damian.

They both stared into the sky, neither actually looking, but both with heads among the stars.

"... How have you been?" Damian asked hesitantly after minutes of introspection.

"Ah, well. You know. I'm… getting there." Anya tilted her head towards him. "How about you."

"Eh. The same, for the most part."

"Ah. Yeah."

"..."

"..."

"So… this is your favorite class?"

Anya couldn't help but smile at the memory of when Damian discovered this information. "Hah, yeah. I never really had an interest in it before, but I don't know, it all just seems so amazing to me. Almost romantic."

"Yeah? How so?"

"Just the scale of it all. The fact that most of these stars are bigger than our sun, or the fact that they're so far away that the light has been traveling for hundreds or thousands of years. And that all of these stars are only in our fledgling little galaxy, but we can also see thousands and thousands of other galaxies with just as many if not more stars than ours.

Even close to Earth, the moon seems so big and close in the sky already, but all the planets in our solar system can fit between us and it. Our brains were never meant to think in this sort of scale. It just makes everything we do feel significant."

"Don't you mean insignificant?"

"Yeah you can think of it that way too, that we're all just moving specks of dust hurtling through an indifferent universe. But that scale also makes what we do significant."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"If we think of all these scales, these vast distances of space and time, then really we need to redefine what we think of as significant. Significant can't mean something that affects or alters a great many things, not at this scale. Even the most energetic events in the universe don't reach much farther than their own galaxy, and the universe is full of galaxies.

So what's significant at this scale? It's a miracle that life even happened on this planet, that we're even here. It's entirely probable that there's other life out there, but we're almost certain that it's exceedingly rare. In fact, life may be the rarest thing to exist in the universe.

So yes we're specs of dust, just bundles of self-perpetuating chemical reactions, but we're so much more than that too. We weren't built to think in these scales, and yet we do it anyway. We think and feel and theorize and create and destroy. We literally carry a little universe in our heads of all our thoughts and memories and emotions, and we can use that to influence the other little universes that each other carry. In those terms, we might be the most impactful specks of dust in the universe."

Damian pondered this for a bit. "Yeah I guess you're right. It is kind of romantic."

"See?"

"That was very impressive, Anya."

Anya turns her nose up, sporting a smug expression. "I'm just an impressive person."

"Yeah definitely. Even more impressive is that with all this knowledge and passion, the biggest thing you've been able to do with it is trick me into stripping in front of you."

Anya laughs and smacks him somewhat playfully on the arm. "Shut it. Say what you will, that whole night was significant to me." Anya smiles up at the sky, glad there isn't enough light to show her blush.

"Yeah, I'm sure. But you didn't have to learn the mysteries of the cosmos. If you wanted to see me naked you could have just asked."

"Where's the fun in that?" Anya asked.

"Usually comes after the stripping"

"You sound like you speak from experience?"

"No no, just thought about it enough."

"You're a horny spec of dust, Damian. You know that right?"

"Says the person who made me strip on multiple occasions."

" Multiple? " Anya turned her head to face him "Name another time!"

"Foam pit during our tag date." Damian smirked as he looked over to her.

"Ah. Well. Yes."

"Hah, no comeback?"

"What can I say? You can't really blame me, you look great without a shirt."

"Heh, Okay."

They smiled at each other for a moment, but the silence stretched just long enough for them to remember where they were, and they both looked back at the sky. It surprised them how easily they fell back into their old rhythm. Surprised and frightened them.

Damian didn't want to stop talking, so he reached out for a topic.

"What's your favorite constellation?"

"Oh, definitely Draco."

Damian laughed at how sure she was of her answer. "Why Draco?"

Anya grinned. "I'm so happy you asked."

She scooted a little closer to him. "So it's a circumpolar constellation, so in the northern hemisphere you can see it all times of the year. It's named after the dragon that Athena killed during Gigantomachy, which was basically a big war amongst the Greek gods. She's said to have killed it and tossed it into the heavens, and it twisted into this contorted shape and froze there amongst the stars. And… uh, it kinda reminds me of you."

"How's that?"

Anya bounced a little, despite laying down. "Yeah! So, do you remember in elementary school when we were having that contest to see who could jump farther off the swing set?"

Damian narrowed his eyes. "... I do…."

Anya started to laugh as the memory came bubbling up. "And then you swung way way too high, and when you let go you just sorta cartwheeled through the air screaming."

"I remember that very well, but I don't see how that relates to Draco."

"I'm getting there! So when you landed, you bounced a few times and then you literally made a small crater in the sand. I remember coming over to check on you, and your body was all contorted. Your back was in a weird shape and your limbs were in awkward directions. The way you were laying reminds me of how Draco is all twisty too."

"... You jerk! That was one of the worst pains I had felt up to that moment"

Anya giggled. "Yeah! And my god Damian, you looked so funny doing it."

Damian smiled, not actually angry, just mostly for show. He scanned the sky. "So where is this splitting image of me breaking my spine?"

Anya giggled again. "Find the north star and go south."

"Right. North star north star…."

"... need help?"

"No no I got it, lets see…"

"... I can't believe you wanted to tutor me ." Anya scooted over next to him and put her head near his.

She extended her arm to the sky. "Okay now follow my finger."

Damian complied, and Anya walked him through several stars and constellations on their way to Draco. After a minute, it became apparent that she was taking the scenic route. She was either showing off or liked the proximity, Damian chose not to figure out which.

"... And here we're back to Ursa, but this one's Ursa Major, he's just a big ol' bear. And that right there is his snout, and if you follow it up… bam, that's Draco's head. Now if you'll follow my finger…. this…. is… his… disfigured…. body…."

Damian slowly followed along, Anya finished and put her hand back down. It landed on Damian's hand, but she didn't move it.

Damian examined the constellation. "... Okay yeah I can see that. Wow yeah no wonder I had back problems for so long." He tilted his head to view it from a different angle, and it pressed against Anya's. He didn't move it away.

Instead, Damian rotated his hand and let Anya's fingers slide between his. Anya squeezed his hand gently.

They stayed like this, pretending to look at the stars, but instead enjoying the warmth of a touch they both had thought was lost.

"I'm sorry I left without saying anything."

Anya turned her head towards him. "Don't be. I don't know if I'd done any better. I don't know what I would have even said to you at the time."

"Heh, yeah me neither…"

Damian turned to look at her. "Are you really doing okay?"

Anya smiled a sad smile, and looked down. "I'm… doing better. Better than I was. Becky has been a big help, and so has George, surprisingly."

"I'm relieved to hear that. You deserve to be happy."

Anya didn't respond for a minute.

Eventually, she rolled to her side, draping an arm over him and laying her head on his chest.

"... Is this okay?"

"Okay with me? Yes. Okay in the grand scheme of things? Probably not." Damian slid an arm under her and wrapped it around her back. "But when have we worried about that?"

Anya nuzzled into his chest, Damian pulled her closer and put his other hand in her hair.

Muffled by the fabric, Anya spoke quietly. "... I missed you."

Damian shook his head to ward off the sting in his eyes. He leaned his head down and kissed the top of her head. "... I missed you too."

Anya squeezed him tighter. They both stayed like this for a long time, listening to each other's heart beats, their breathing.

Damian wanted to hear her voice again. So, he reached again.

"How are those two doing anyway? Becky and George?"

Anya groaned and tilted her head up to look at him. "Oh my god Damian, it's so bad."

Damian laughed. "What is?"

"Sex. That's all they do apparently. They go on dates, and do sex things. Oh and apparently George asked Becky to marry him without Becky knowing."

Damian blinked at her. "I'm gonna need you to explain that."

Anya sat up a little. "Okay, so the whole whole story really starts with a can of whip cream. Apparently, Becky wanted to see…"

They continued well into the night. Between bouts of snuggling and more stargazing adventures, they talked. They talked about the past, they talked about their present. They avoided the topic of futures, both not wanting to think about anything that would happen once the sun rose.

Eventually, during one of the cuddle breaks, Anya fell asleep, still half on top of Damian with her head on his chest. Damian very carefully grabbed a blanket and pulled it over them, and eventually drifted off as well.

They slept till morning, holding each other close. The billions of fires burning in the sky bore witness to a collision of two little universes, resonating with each other into a blissful harmony.

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Sunlight spilled over the treetops, creeping its way down the hillside. It slowly slid over the two sleeping young adults, curled around each other under a large blanket. The light was just enough to ward off the morning chill, and stir the two from their slumber.

Damian woke up first, eyes opening to blue sky above him, then shining sun in his arms. He smiled down at her, and gently rocked her from side to side to wake her up.

"Nnnnn" Anya responded. Burying her face closer into his chest.

"Sun's up" Damian said softly.

His voice startled Anya, causing her to lift her head up and blink at him, a string of drool connecting her face to a wet spot on his chest. Recognizing him, she smiled.

"G'morn." Was all she managed to let out, before letting her head fall back to his chest, momentarily causing his breath to escape.

"Good morning. Sleep well?"

Anya only nodded into him.

"Me too."

Anya squeezed tighter.

Her phone began to go off next to her, and she groaned as she swung her arm out, trying to find it without getting up.

She finally had it in her hands, with Damian's assistance, and brought it to her face to see. She frowned at the screen, hit accept, and brought it to her ear.

"'Ey mom… uh huh… Really?" She lifted the phone away from her to look at it for a moment, before bringing it back. "Sorry… yeah I'm coming." She hung up, letting her head fall once again.

She let out a big sigh and lifted herself up into a seating position. Damian followed.

"Looks like my mom is here to pick me up, guess we slept in."

"Ah. yeah. Okay, no problem."

Silently they both packed up their supplies. Neither knew how to talk about what happened last night. Anya wanted to know how things went from there.

Towards the end of their walk back, they could see the parking lot, and all the other students loading into cars or being picked up. Anya had finally worked up the courage to broach the subject, but Damian spoke up before she could.

"Hey, can we talk for a second?"

Anya turned around to face him, eyes hopeful. "Sure. Yeah, we should."

Damian sighed, and smiled a sad smile at her. "The real reason I came here, was to say goodbye."

Anya's smile fell slowly. "...What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving Eden Academy. I'm moving out today, and I won't be back after spring break."

Anya felt her ears ring, and her mind went blank. She managed to formulate a word. "Why?"

"Even though we… you know, didn't get together, I decided I still wasn't going to live under my father's thumb anymore. He'll never get to decide what I do with my life, or who I'll love. Eventually followed through with his threat. He's disowning me."

Anya could only stare at him.

"He's coming to campus today to finish unenrollment, and then that's that." Damian looked off to the side. "Bastard has already shut off my phone."

"I… I don't know what to say…" Anya looked around on the ground for answers.

"Yeah… Sorry to spring it on you last minute. I debated bringing it up at all, since I didn't know if you wanted to see me again. I'm glad I did."

Damian took her hands in his to get her attention back on him. "Anya… It's going to be okay. Even beyond getting away from my father's chains, I… still have feelings for you." He smirked. "Heh, obviously. And you probably do too. So, this will be good. For us. It'll be easier for us to move on, if we're not within arms reach."

Someone called Damian's name from the parking lot, his classmate who gave him a ride was waiting at their running car. Damian held up a finger to get them to wait, and focused back on Anya.

"Look at me Anya." He waited for her to do so. "I meant what I said last night. You deserve to be happy. Please be happy."

"Y-yeah. Yeah." Anya blinked quickly, and nodded her head. "I will."

She looked back at their hands, holding each other. "... You too."

Damian had a soft smile. He brought both hands up to his face and pressed his lips into them. He held them there for several seconds, then lowered them again.

"Thank you, Anya, for everything." Damian started to walk away, their hands stayed connected for as long as they could, until the distance was too far and they slipped away.

He smiled at her one last time, turned around and walked to his ride. Anya watched him leave, letting her hands slowly fall back to her sides. She watched the car drive away before walking towards Yor's car. She didn't say anything as she got in, still a little shocked, still processing.

Yor gave her a concerned look, but then started the car and started to drive out of the preserve.

Silence stretched minutes into their trip. Until Yor couldn't stand it anymore.

"So… how were the stars last night?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, mom, they were great."

"Think you'll have enough for the report?"

Anya nodded.

Yor gave a worrying look towards her daughter.

"... Was that Damian I saw you talking with?"

Anya inhaled sharply, and nodded after a pause.' …Yeah, he was in the class too."

"How is he doing?"

"He's… He's leaving Eden."

"Oh."

"His parents are disowning him. Said he still decided to refuse the arranged marriage, even if… we couldn't…" She didn't finish the sentence, suddenly finding a lump in her throat that prevented any more words from forming. She swallowed and cleared her throat.

"I see…" Yor chewed on this for a few miles. "How do you feel about that?"

"Bad." Anya responded immediately, surprising herself. "I… guess I feel bad? And sad?"

"You guess?"

"Yeah… I shouldn't, right? We aren't dating. I said… I couldn't be with him. I should be happy for him. Happy for me. Glad that we can both, y'know, move on."

"Who told you what you should be feeling right now?" Yor raised an eyebrow towards her.

"I… No one? Society? Social norms? I don't know…" Anya picked up her legs and hugged her knees.

"It sounds like you should take a page out of Damian's book and stop trying to meet other peoples' expectations."

"...Maybe…" Anya pondered.

"Instead, answer this. Don't think about it, just answer. If you are feeling bad and sad about this, why do you think that is?"

"Because I lov-" Anya caught herself and her breath hitched. She felt her eyes tear up. "Because I love him."

"Good." Yor reached over and patted Anya on the head. "But that's not news though, right? You loved him before this" She held up a finger. "And don't you dare try to deny it. Your father and I watch you very closely."

She brought both hands back to the wheel. "So if your love didn't change, what did?"

"I… I don't know."

"Okay, then how do you think you'll figure it out?"

Anya was silent, hugging her knees closer to her and hiding her nose behind them.

Yor decided to help her along a bit more. "Do you think the answer involves Damian in some regard?"

"... I mean, yeah, probably?"

"Then don't you think it'd be easier to answer that question if he was involved in the discussion?"

Anya stared out the window, mulling over what Yor had said.

"But what if it ends the same way it started? Just more proof that nothing will come of it?"

"Then maybe you'll feel better about this change. But also, you don't know what's going to happen. It's been months since you last spoke, maybe you two can find a new way to come to peace with this situation. Or something else."

Yor glanced over. "The point is that you can't bury a feeling and hope it dies, and you can't logic it away because you think it isn't supposed to be there. It will stay with you, shading every thought or feeling, influencing how you see the world.

"The only way to move past it is to move through it, see it through to its end. And if it comes up again, keep chasing it back down. Either it'll get easier as you go, or you'll reach a new conclusion. And you can't do it alone."

Anya turned to her mom. "... Can you take me to Eden instead?"

Yor turned her blinker on. "Already on our way, sweetie."

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— — —

— — —

Anya dashed out of the car before it came to a complete stop. She was just barely able to get out a thank you to her mom before the door slammed closed. Yor drove off as Anya sprinted past the entryway to the school grounds.

She didn't know what she was going to say yet, or what she wanted to happen. But her mom was right, this wasn't something she could talk herself through alone.

She was well past the entryway when she realized she didn't know where to go.

She scanned around the grounds, looking for a sign of him or the car he drove back in. Not finding anything, she picked a direction and went for it.

Eventually Anya stumbled onto Becky and George, sitting at an outdoor table with several books in front of them. She ran up to them and slammed her hands down on the table, startling them.

"George! Have you seen Damian today?"

George hesitated from the suddenness of it all. "H-Hi Miss Anya. No, I have not seen him today."

"Anya, hey let's slow down a bit." Becky tried to calm Anya down, getting up and reaching for her shoulder. "Is that a good idea right now?"

Anya jerked her shoulder away from her grip, and started to back up. "He's leaving Eden. Today. For good. I need to find him."

"Wait what?"

"Oh is that today?" George asked.

Both of their heads whipped around to stare at the boy. Becky grabbed his ear and pulled. "Ow ow ow ow"

Becky leaned in. "You knew about this?! And didn't tell us?"

"He told me not to! He said it was up to him to tell!"

Becky let go of his ear. "Fine. But you're helping us find him."

Anya stepped towards him. "You have to know where he might be now, right? At least an idea?"

"Well… I know he still had some more packing to do, so maybe he's at the dorm? But he also had to meet his dad at the administration building, but I don't know when that is though."

"Got it" Anya spun around and headed down a pathway. She yelled over her shoulder as she ran. "I'll check the dorms, you check admin, call me if you see him. And don't let him leave yet!"

They both nodded and quickly grabbed their things, then made their way to the administration building.

Anya knew where to find the annex that housed the refurbished dorms, but she'd never actually been there. It had closed shortly after she came to Eden, and the new cultural center was already up and running.

As she approached, she could see signs of its old heritage. It was nestled near several other multipurpose and classroom buildings. The building itself had a fresh coat of paint, but the front entrance was still a series of heavy swinging double doors with glass window inserts spanning their length. The pathway that led up to the entrance snaked around a large, deep marble fountain that spanned almost a quarter of the building. It consisted of several statues depicting various students performing various activities. The area in front of the building served as a common area for the residents, with tables and chairs to sit and do work.

She walked up the stairs and tested the door. It swung open easily, so she walked in.

The foyer was a wide open space that extended straight up into the roof of the building. From there you could look up and see the entrance to hallways of each floor on the left and right, with a railed walkway overlooking the foyer. The roof over the room was made of glass in the shape of a pyramid, letting the daylight illuminate this cavernous space.

At the front of the foyer was a reception desk, and at the back were two sets of staircases leading to the upper floor walkways. Another smaller fountain was bubbling a spout of water at the center of this room, surrounded by large leafy plants.

There were still signs of the recent renovations. Looking up, Anya could see that a few of the hallways were tapped off with plastic sheets, accompanied by a 'hard hat required' sign on it. There were also several pallets of building supplies and scaffolding rails still sitting at various levels.

Anya walked in and immediately noticed how quiet it was. Her steps echoed in the large room, and she didn't hear anyone else. The effect made her skin crawl, but then she remembered spring break started today, and shook it off. She walked to the front desk and looked at the building map.

Damian's class was assigned to the fourth floor, out of five total, so she might as well start there.

She had rounded the last flight of stairs and walked over until she was in front of the entrance of what should be his dorm hall. Anya opened the door and held it open, peeking her head in and listening for noises.

"Damian! Are you in here?"

She waited a second, but there was no response.

She called louder, still nothing. Looking around the entrance, she could see the halls stretched down the length of the building, ending at another set of stairs that lead to the upper levels. It's possible he didn't hear. She felt awkward just walking in, but she had to find him. She took a step into the door.

There was a rumble at her feet.

Immediately a violent gust of hot air flew up the foyer and shattered the glass roof, as a giant explosion rocked the bottom floor entryway.

The blast blew in the door Anya was holding open, slamming into her back and launching her body into the hall. She heard the snapping and groaning of the walls and masonry around her, and the roar of a pillar of fire hurtling through the foyer. She saw the floor quickly fall up to meet her and everything went black.

— — —

— — —

— — —

Damian decided to take a scenic route from the administration building. The meeting with his father went about as well as he expected. It was obvious that his father was disappointed in him. Damian could have sworn he even looked a little hurt as he signed the first papers.

But Damian had to live with his choices, and so should he. It was never a negotiation with his father, it was this way or nothing. When he told his father he wouldn't marry someone of his choosing, Damian barely put up a struggle when the ultimatum came down. He'd fought these fights in the past, and there was only one way they went. The father would never negotiate with the son.

He walked with his head down, forcing himself not to think about his father. His mind then, inevitably, drifted to the night he spent with Anya, and the hardest 50 feet he'd ever had to walk when he turned away from her.

He afforded himself a small smile, thinking of her smooshed wet morning face when she first woke up. He felt blessed to have seen it at least once.

A solid wall of air hit his body, thumping through his lungs and making him take a step back. It was accompanied by the loudest bang he'd ever heard, and followed shortly after by hot wind blowing from the direction of his dorm. Glass windows all around him cracked or shattered.

He wasn't far from the source. He jogged around the corner and stopped to see his new dorm engulfed in flames.

A blast had destroyed the front entryway, which was currently open to a towering inferno that was sending flames all the way up and out of the broken glass roof. The fireball had branched outwards from the entryway, and most of the windows on the first floor were completely blown out, with more flames spilling out the holes and up the walls.

Damian slowly walked closer. He couldn't help but smirk.

His life as he knew it was already crumbling down. He'd lost his family, his friends, the love of his life. All he had was what was left in his dorm room. But now that was gone too. He had a long road ahead of him to build a new life for himself, and it seemed fitting that he should truly start with nothing.

He walked up to the fountain and watched the blaze. There was something about fire in the daytime that looked more sinister than those at night. You could see the billowing smoke clearly as it darkened the sky, you could see the unburnt structure quickly turn black, cinder, and ignite. There wasn't the chill of the night to ward off. No, Damian decided he much preferred the other time all his earthly possessions burned to ashes.

He turned to walk away, having accepted this new twist of the knife. He was almost out of sight from the blaze when he looked up, stopped, and frowned. He could see Becky and George running up the hill frantically, Becky on her phone yelling into it.

He walked over to meet them as they ran up. Their faces grew pale as they saw the building.

"Guys, easy, what's going o-"

"Anya! She, she might be in there!" Becky exclaimed while pointing at the building, out of breath, trying her phone again.

"What? What?! What do you mean she might-"

"She was looking for you! We told her you might be grabbing your things from the dorm." Becky looked down at her phone and teared up, covering her mouth. "She isn't answering her phone."

Damian whipped around to look at the building. The fires were already growing.

He didn't think, he didn't even bother to ask himself if it was true. He dropped his backpack and broke into a sprint towards the dorm.

Becky and George followed him. They stopped in front of the fountain and ran along the side of the building. Damian frantically looked around every corner, but every single entrance and window on the first floor was aflame. They couldn't even get close to it, the heat was too much.

"Shit!" Damian spat, scanning the other floors and surrounding area for a way up or in. He looked at the adjacent building and sprinted towards it. "George! I need your help!" he yelled over his shoulder.

— — —

— — —

— — —

Her ears were ringing and she couldn't feel anything. She coughed her first few breaths, and tried to inhale larger gulps of air, only for it to burn her throat and cause her to cough more.

She began to feel the floor beneath her. It was warm, and pressing into her cheek. She was laying down. She opened her eyes, blinking several times to get the dust and ash out of them.

The first thing she saw were bright orange wisps of embers floating in the air, followed by smoke. She was low, so it was still relatively clear here, but not entirely. And the roof of the hall was pitch black. The wall across from her was cracked and splintered, and there was black char on the paint.

As sensations began to click back on, her head began pounding. She grimaced and lifted her hand to her head, holding the source. She brought it back in front of her and found it covered in bright wet blood. She closed her eyes again as the room started to spin.

That sensation finally receded, only to be replaced by others.

She was uncomfortably hot. Her ears were still ringing, but that was starting to fade, replaced by a roaring din and creaks and cracks of the structure around her.

Something terrible had happened. She traced back her last memories. She remembered that she went looking for Damian, found his dorm, called for him, then… blank. Not exactly blank, there was a fear there, an emotional response to something she couldn't see. Whatever it was, it shook her to her core.

She shouldn't stay here.

She wiped the blood off her forehead and put her hands under her. She slowly started to lift herself off the ground when she felt a white hot knife stab into her leg. She screamed.

The pain was so sudden and crisp and loud it brought clarity to her mind. Her eyes shot open and she tilted her head to look down.

A large beam that had been supporting the floor above the doorway was now on her lower right leg. It wasn't just on it, it was digging into it. She could just barely feel the rest of the limb below that point, so she knew it was still there, but it was pinned to the point of restricting blood flow, and probably broken.

She turned her body as much as she could, but she couldn't rotate enough to get her hands on the beam. She rotated back and put her free leg against the beam and tried to push it off, bracing her arms against a nearby wall.

Each push sent more jolts of pain through her leg. She started screaming again as she used both her arms to push against the wall and her leg to press against the beam. She felt it budge just a little, and she felt blood flow return to the rest of her leg and foot, but then the beam shifted and was now firmly lodged in place. And as the nerves in her leg began to reawaken, the pain came flooding in, in sickening waves.

She stopped pushing and gritted her teeth, pressing her forehead into the floor.

She started to feel panic, breathing faster as she looked around her for something to free her.

Eventually it was too much, and she broke into a fit of coughing.

She crossed her arms and buried her head into them.

Her head was feeling light again, and the room started to spin once more. The pain from her leg and the throbbing of her head were ganging up on her psyche and her defenses were getting overwhelmed.

She knew she was going to pass out again. She fought it as hard as she could, but she knew it was coming.

The room began to fade away, but a small light in her was calling out. Yelling and screaming, but also reassuring her, calming her. It rang a thought through her mind as things went back to black.

Damian.

He'll find me.

— — —

— — —

— — —

By the time they reached the roof of the adjacent building, a crowd was forming below to watch the blaze.

Most of the second floor had now ignited.

Damian ran to the edge of the building and looked down. The roof of the dorm was still intact, still free of flames except for the blown out glass roof. It was separated by a good 30 feet of alley, and another story downward.

George caught up with him and looked down, swallowing at the view of the height.

Damian looked around on the roof, looked back at the dorm, and then turned to George.

"I need you to launch me."

"Are you crazy? You're not going to make it. We have to find something else."

Damian started walking toward the other end of the roof. "There's no time, there isn't anything else. Cup your hands and get low. When I jump and step into your hands, lift with your arms and legs to pull me up and over you."

"Damian! Don't do this, you have to think about this-"

Damian reached a good distance away and turned around.

"George, I'm jumping with or without your help. Get ready or get the hell out of my way."

Damian didn't wait for a response and started running as fast as he could towards George. George flailed for a second, but then squatted down, clasped his fingers together and positioned them low, palm open.

He was ready just in time, Damian took one long, leaping step and landed his foot into George's hands. George roared as he stood up and lifted his arms over and behind his head, launching Damian forward. Towards the end of George's lift, Damian also kicked off of George's hands, further propelling him over the gap.

He flew in a long arch over and down. Had he been at the same height as the dorm, he wouldn't have made it, but the extra air time afforded by the 12 foot drop landed him just barely over the edge of the dorm roof.

He immediately rolled on the ground, the momentum of the action bouncing his body hard against the rooftop. He tucked himself into a tight curl as he careened over the roof. He felt something give in his rib, and a sharp pain in his collarbone.

His head and arms scraped roughly against the asphalt roofing material as he ground to a stop. He didn't wait to assess his injuries, he stumbled and staggered his legs until they were under him and he launched himself up and forward, grabbing onto anything nearby to steady himself until he found his footing and ran to the roof access stairwell.

— — —

— — —

— — —

Anya

Consciousness slowly started to trickle over Anya's mind again.

Anya

Her eyes barely began to open, she blinked and softly mumbled to herself. "...damian."

"Anya" a muffled, far away sound.

She felt an alarm grow in her, and memories started to flood back. She opened her eyes more. "Damian?"

"Anya!"

She lifted her head. "Damian!"

"Anya, where are you?!"

"Damian! I'm here! I'm here!"

Her eyes began to focus in time to see Damian come around a corner, head pivoting left and right. When his eyes fell on her he immediately ran over. Though he was running, he had a noticeable stagger to his step. His head was bleeding from numerous scrapes along his temple, and his arms were banged up.

He slid to his knees as he arrived. Anya spoke before he could say anything.

"My- My leg. It's stuck." She put her hand on her leg and tried to pull away again, stopping as the pain threatened to make her light headed again.

His eyes followed where she was pointing and saw the beam. He immediately got back up and looked around. He took a few steps back and reached for a left over pallet of scaffolding supplies. He knocked off the top few pieces until he found what he was looking for.

He pulled out a large metal bar used for cross bracing, and he stabbed one end underneath the beam, working it back and forth to try to get as far under it as possible. He slid his hands to the far end of the bar and got into a lifting position.

He looked at Anya. "Ready?"

She nodded, and Damian strained with every muscle at his disposal to lift the bar. He groaned and sweat and trembled as the beam stayed steady. He released for a moment and got lower, getting his legs down and then lifting again, trying to push the floor away as he pulled up.

Slowly, the beam began to shift. Millimeters at first, but those soon built up and Anya felt a little bit of give, her leg could move just a bit.

Anya pressed her other leg against the beam, trying to help push it out and away. Suddenly, with a sharp snap, it gave.

The beam rolled and pivoted upward for a split second before crashing back down right behind where it once was. Anya pulled her leg out just in time, and then the beam crushed through the floor and fell below, taking most of the door assembly and surrounding wall with it.

Damian threw down the bar and grabbed Anya by the waist, dragging her away from the hall entrance and the inferno beyond it, much more open now that the door structure was gone.

He pulled and she kicked their way down the hall, Damian took the first corner he found and ducked them both in, where they both collapsed on the floor.

Damian only allowed himself a couple of breaths before he rolled over and grabbed Anya. He took her head in his hands and tilted and examined. He found the source of the blood, a large but superficial cut to the top right of her head. The bleeding had slowed.

He began wiping the blood off her forehead, and Anya lifted her hands and placed them on his.

He stopped and looked into her eyes. Her lip was trembling and her eyes were tearing up, then he noticed his were as well.

He scooped her up into his arms at the same time her arms flew around him.

They held each other tightly.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere else?" Damian asked into her shoulder.

Anya nodded and squeezed around him tighter. Her breath was staggered and she couldn't form words. Her hands clawed and dug into him, like either of them would float away if given the smallest of chances.

Damian reluctantly pulled back. "We have to get out of here."

Anya nodded, and Damian stood up, helping her to her feet. She tried to put weight on her right leg and yelled in pain.

"I got you, it's okay." Damian wrapped her arm over his shoulder and grabbed her waist. "Lean on me, okay?"

She nodded, and they started walking towards the main hall.

They took a step into the hall and immediately regretted it. The front entrance was nothing but smolder and flames. The heat was tremendous. Damian could feel the back of his clothes singe and his skin was in pain.

They hobbled as fast as they could to the stairwell on the opposite side of the hall. The fire seemed to be spreading just barely slower than their pace. With the entrance wide open, and the windows blown out, the breezeway of fresh air was feeding the fire, coaxing it to stretch further and further into the building.

As they reached the stairs, it was becoming clear the fire was about to overrun them.

Without asking, Damian reached down, picked up Anya in his arms and carried her forward, as fast as he could. Anya wrapped her arms around him, trying to take as much of her weight off his arms as she could.

They made it to the stairs and he took two at a time. Wincing but trying not to groan out loud as the pain in his rib and collarbone became harder to ignore under the strain.

The next floor up was almost as engulfed as the previous, so they kept climbing up to the roof.

Damian's shoulder rammed into the door and it swung open. They staggered onto the roof and Anya moved to be let down, hopping to her foot and using Damian as support.

They both looked around. The fire poured over the exploded glass roof, and most of the area was choked in black smoke. They heard a crash behind them and fire began peeking out of the doorway they just came from. They walked away from it, heading to the front edge of the building.

There at the edge, the wind was angled just right to give them a small pocket out of the smoke. They stood there, watching the roof, as small fissures and holes started to open up, with little fiery blades sprouting out like grass.

Damian was scanning all around for something to help them. Anya was only looking at him.

They had put their arms around each other at some point. Holding one another close.

"It was you, Damian."

Damian stopped his search for a moment and looked down at her.

"I thought of you. When I was trapped. I knew you would come for me, that you'd save me."

Damian gave a soft sad laugh. "I don't know if I saved you, Anya…" He glanced back at the roof. A portion of roof furthest away from them collapsed into the floor below. He looked back at Anya as another section next to it collapsed.

"I was such a fucking idiot, Damian. I'm so sorry."

"Anya, you-"

"I trust you." She smiled as tears streamed down her face. "I must. I probably always have." She sniffed "I was just to stupid to see it. Too scared."

The section of the roof with the stairwell access they used collapsed, sending steel and smoldering wood crashing down into the building.

"I thought I was going to die and I only thought of you. Of course I trust you. I'm so sorry I didn't see it sooner." She choked on a sob on the last part of her statement, pressing her face into his chest.

Damian held her close, putting his hand on the back of her head. He looked back at the roof, and looked down over the edge.

Anya cried into his shirt. "I've always loved you, so much. And I just, fucking, walked away. I listened to my fears, telling me I couldn't do it. I'm such a coward." She looked back at him, he was staring at the courtyard down below. The edge of the roof 20 feet away from them collapsed into a pit of fire. She looked away. "I don't deserve yo-"

"You trust me?" Damian interrupted.

Anya looked back at him. "Yes. I do."

"Okay. Alright. Hang on to me."

Anya didn't question it, she gripped him tight.

Damian held her close, and gently tipped them both sideways. They fell over the edge of the roof.

— — —

— — —

— — —

George joined Becky in the courtyard. She'd just hung up with Anya's parents. They were on their way.

She put her hands over her mouth and her eyes were stinging. She looked over at George as he approached.

"Did he make it?"

"Just barely."

Becky hugged him tightly, and tried to stop herself from crying into his shirt. George held her there, patting her back and looking out at the building.

He was watching the roofline when he saw a flash of pink.

"Becky! Look! There they are!" George frantically pointed.

Becky looked up and only saw smoke. She was about to ask what he'd seen, but then the wind shifted and she saw them.

The pink hair was unmistakable. It was definitely her.

She was being held by someone taller, with black hair. It had to be Damian.

They were just standing there, holding each other, not moving.

Becky put her hand out for George. "George. George, why aren't they moving? Why aren't they trying to get out?!"

"I… I don't know…"

They could both see parts of the roof start to collapse into the building. They both started walking forward.

"What are they doing? Why, Wha-"

They witnessed the pair slowly fall over the edge, and start plummeting to the ground.

Becky yelled a gut wrenching, tortured scream, and they both ran towards the building.

As the pair fell, they could see Damian's body tucking around them both, using his legs to catch the air just enough to rotate them both sideways.

The moment he was perpendicular to the wall, he used both legs to kick with all his strength.

The force of the kick against the wall pushed them away from it. They fell the rest of the way down in an arc away from the building.

He tucked himself around Anya right before they landed, ensuring that both of them completely cleared the edge and fell into the water of the fountain.

When Becky and George got to the edge of the fountain the pair hadn't surfaced yet, so they jumped in and swam over to where they landed.

The fountain itself was about 5 feet deep, but the force of their fall brought them straight to the bottom, stopping just shy of hitting the floor.

Becky and George grabbed them both, still clinging to each other, and pulled them to the surface. George got out first, then picked up both Anya and Damian in his arms and began carrying them away from the fire, with Becky close behind.

The moment they stepped away from the fountain, the remaining roof of the dorm collapsed in on itself. The rest of the structure followed, crumpling into a mangled pile of embers and ash.

— — —

— — —

— — —

It was night by the time the fires were mostly extinguished.

Anya and Damian both sat on the back of an ambulance, huddled under the same blanket. One paramedic was attending to Anya's leg, while another was bandaging Damian's head.

They would both need to go to the hospital soon. Anya needed X-rays of her leg to rule out surgery. The wound on her head may need stitches, it only had a bandage at the moment, wrapped several times around her head. She also needed to be treated for the concussion that she definitely had, despite her protests. Damian needed to be treated for his probable broken rib, collarbone, and right tibia. He also had road rash on his head and arms, and mild burns to his back and neck.

They both refused to leave without the other. So they agreed to be stabilized here, until another transport came for the both of them.

Loid and Yor had already swung by and fussed over the both of them. Anya and Damian both smiled and said they were fine. The massive amount of injuries and trauma that were apparent all over their bodies said otherwise, but when Yor and Loid noticed the two were holding hands, they understood. They were currently talking to the housemaster several yards away, who was extremely distraught over the events.

After Damian's head was free of the paramedic's hands, he leaned it over onto Anya's, whose head was already on his shoulder.

They squeezed each other's hands under the blanket.

The second paramedic had just finished strapping Anya's leg into a temporary air cast, when Damian looked up and saw someone walking towards them.

Damian tensed, which Anya felt through his skin, causing her to look up. Damian squeezed her hand again and then let go, patting it.

"It's okay. This shouldn't take long." He sighed as he got up. He put his half of the blanket around Anya, and limped over to his father.

Donovan Desmond stopped in front of his son and regarded him quietly.

Damian spoke first. "Here I thought you were never going to see me again."

Donovan cleared his throat. "Yes. So did I. But until the disownment is finalized you're still technically under my purview. Certain… appearances are necessary."

Damian frowned. "Whatever you have to tell yourself."

Donovan frowned as well. "I see that my naive hope that this incident would have straightened your priorities was indeed just that."

Damian smirked. "Yeah, bad luck on that. My resolve is stronger than it ever was."

"I see. So be it." Donovan stared at his son for a few moments longer, causing Damian to raise an eyebrow. Donovan then took a step back and began to turn to walk away.

"Hey!"

Both of them turned to face the source of the noise.

Anya let the blanket fall from her shoulders. She grabbed a crutch the medic had left for her, and began to hobble over. "Are you the great Donovan Desmond I keep hearing about?

Donovan sighed while Damian looked concerned.

"Yes, that is my name. And to whom do I owe the ple-"

"Yes! Great! Oh boy, I've been waiting to talk to you for a long time."

"Is that so?"

Damian put his hands up to try to halt Anya's advance. "Yeah! You bet! So why don't we- No, no! No no no." She held up a finger to Damian. "Back the hell up, Damian." She glowered at him, and he stepped back. "Good. Now. Do you know who I am?"

Donovan seemed nonplussed. "Should I?"

"Oh yes. Yes I think you should. Most fathers would want to know everything about the person their son might launch themselves into a burning building for . Are you aware he saved my life today? And almost died doing it?"

"I was aware certain heroics took place, if you're looking to thank me I assure you that-"

"HAH! Me?! Thank you ?! Why the hell would I do that?"

Donovan frowned. "Because my son saved your life."

Anya's voice spat venom as she spoke. "He's your son by law and by blood, but that's it. You had no part making him into the person he is today. When we were growing up he spent more time with me than he ever did at home! My family did more to raise him than you did. So why would I thank you for something that you had no hand in?"

Donovan's eyes narrowed, and he glanced back at Damian.

"Ah ah. No." Anya snapped her fingers in his line of sight. "You're talking to me now."

Donovan looked back at Anya, and Damian could only gape incredulously at the exchange happening before him. His father, the great Donovan Desmond, one of the most powerful figures in the nation, one of a handful of successful power brokers in the world, the man who has stared down kings before, was being ordered to pay attention to Anya when she's speaking. And it's working .

"You still haven't told me who you are, young lady."

"My name is Anya Forger." She took another step forward. "Let me be with your son."

Donovan blinked, and then something came over him that Damian had never seen on his father's face before: shock and confusion.

It only took a moment for Donovan to regain his cool composure. "And why do you propose I should do that? You have no wealth, power, influence or prospects. You have no means to bolster our family's legacy nor do you have the agency to further the betterment of the world."

"Because I make your son a better person. We make each other better people. Together, we are greater than the sum of our parts. You can't have him without me. And I'm not going anywhere."

She took another step forward. Donovan wavered for a moment but held fast in his place.

"I know you love your son. This bullshit about keeping up appearances isn't fooling anyone. I know you don't want to lose him. You don't have to say anything, that's just a fact. Let's look at all the facts, shall we?"

She points at Damian, at Donovan, and back at herself. "He loves me. He loves you. You love him. I love him. The only reason that all three of us can't be happy in this situation is because of you. You and your ridiculous pursuit of the ultimate and perfectly efficient family tree. Like any stray branch could topple the whole thing over.

"Well guess what? Without me, you lose him. Not just disownment, I mean literally, he would be a different person had my family not been there to help raise him."

She took one more step, looking up at Donovan's face. "So what's it going to be? A slightly askew branch on your tree, or a branch that's been removed entirely?"

Donovan regarded her with stern, serious eyes. Searching in and through her, calculating.

"What precisely is it that you want?"

"I want to be with your son, and for your son to remain your son."

Donovan remained motionless.

"This request is not something I take lightly, Ms. Forger. This is not a summer fling. I will not abide my son expending energy on something that turned out to be a fleeting fancy. This is not temporary."

"We've been in love with each other for years. I know what I'm asking for."

Damian started to make noises, but Anya simply turned around and silenced him with a finger and a stern look, before turning back to Donovan.

"The world my family navigates and the echelons we engage with are not for the faint of heart. It can be a complicated and treacherous affair."

"I've been able to navigate your son just fine. I'm a quick learner."

"Involving yourself with a Desmond brings certain struggles and hardships, the likes of which can bring many to ruin. It will be difficult on you and your family."

"I don't want easy, I want him."

Donovan continued to stare into Anya's soul, and Anya stared right back, completely unwavering. He glanced back up at Damian, then back down. He took a step back and cleared his throat.

"I'll allow that the arguments for your proposal as well as your tenacity have made an impression. I'll take this offer into consideration. I'll of course need to conduct a thorough vetting process, as well as interview your parents."

Anya put out her hand, which Donovan, after staring at it like it was the first hand he'd ever seen, cautiously took it and shook briskly.

Anya grinned. "Thanks Dad."

Donovan pulled his hand back at once, frowning. "...Tch." He reached into his inner coat pocket and produced a business card, handing it to Anya. She graciously accepted, and Donovan turned around and walked away without another word.

Anya turned around and grinned. "You may speak now."

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?!"

"I know exactly what I just did. You saved my life. I returned the favor." Her legs began to tremble and she slid to the ground. Damian rushed over to help her.

"And I got to bag a baddy in the process, look at me go." She smiled up at him. "That was scary, can we go home?"

Damian could only laugh as he helped her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. He shook and trembled as the years of tension slowly worked its way out of him, like a gnarled knot that was just starting to untangle. Anya stroked his back and whispered in his ear as he began to cry.

On the hill of the burned out dorm, a few embers were still glowing. The last throes of the inferno, hiding in the smoldering remains. The wind shifted, and a crane made of shiny red and gold paper slipped out of a charred overturned night stand. It flipped over and landed on one of the burning coals. The shimmering lights of latent heat began to transform the crane, and it started to blacken. Soon, it curled in on itself, and a small flame appeared. It grew and spread and consumed, until the entire crane had become brittle flakes of ash, and the flame went out.

The wind blew again, and the flakes of ash crumbled and scattered, carried off into the night to return to the earth.

— — —

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Epilogue

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— — —

— — —

Another crisp fall night, and once again energetic wisps of bright orange floated in the air. A crack sounded, and several more flew into the sky. The short lived fireflies swirled in the eddies created by the rising heat and smoke, dancing in an uncoordinated ballet for the audience it had gathered.

A young girl, with shoulder length dark pink hair, sat in front of the fire pit with a stick in her hand. She was mesmerized by the fiery choreography performing before her, against the backdrop of the crescent moon lit autumn night.

"Asche, your marshmallow."

Asche looked down and pulled up her stick. At the end was a bright yellow ball of flame, covering a dark black orb. She yelped and threw it on the ground, smacking it out with her shoe that she held in both hands.

After a brief battle with the remnants of her snack, it was now a hot white and black sticky blob on the underside of her sandal. She looked over at the woman sitting behind her on a large outdoor couch, who was giggling into her hand. She glared.

"Mama, you waited until it was on fire to tell me, again, didn't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sweetie." Anya responded.

Asche grabbed the bag of marshmallows and dug around, trying to find a suitable replacement. "Papa is going to get angry that you keep making me waste food."

Anya smiled at her daughter. "I don't know about that. I don't think it was wasted, and I think he will agree once he sees how ballistic you get when you try to put it out."

Asche threw a marshmallow at her mom, who started to laugh. Her laughter just earned more projectiles thrown at her.

She put up her hands to defend herself from the assault, still laughing. "Who's wasting food now?" This caused Asche to double her efforts.

There was a pause in the barrage, and Anya lowered her hands. It was all a ruse, as a single marshmallow came barreling towards her face. Anya flinched, but it never impacted.

She opened her eyes to see a hand in front of her. Damian caught the marshmallow mid flight, and popped it into his mouth. "Asche, we talked about this."

"Papa it's Mama's fault! She keeps making me burn things."

Damian looked down at Anya, who was whistling while looking in another direction. Damian tapped her on the head with a bag of graham crackers before sitting next to her.

"Well if that's the case, go for it."

Anya spun her head around to look at Damian, betrayed, as a new marshmallow assault began, pelting Anya repeatedly.

Damian smiled and put his hand up after a bit. "Alright alright, vengeance is yours young lady." He stood up and quickly picked her up into the air, eliciting a squeal as Asche was spun around, giggling and kicking her legs.

He sat back down and put Asche in his lap. She kicked her legs as she was handed a stick with a marshmallow already on it. She stuck it over the fire and leaned back into her father's chest as he wrapped an arm around her.

Damian sat back and put his other arm around Anya, pulling her close. She leaned her head on him.

Asche got distracted again, and started looking around her. She looked down at Damian's arm around her, and poked at it.

"Papa, why is your arm all bumpy?"

Damian looked down at it. "That's called a scar, honey. I was in a fire a long time ago and got burned."

Asche spun around, nearly flinging her hot marshmallow away, saved only by Damian who grabbed the stick from her.

"Papa was on fire!?" Asche yelled.

Anya turned her head to laugh into her hand and Damian smiled and shook his head.

"No, no no no. I was in a building that was on fire, and something hot hit my arm."

"Ohhhh….." Asche chewed on this for a second. "Why were you in a building that was on fire?" She leaned in close and spoke quietly. "Is it because you're dumb?"

Anya coughed and snickered into her hand, trembling.

"You cheeky little… Is that what your mother told you?"

Asche nodded confidently. "Yeah! She said everyone is dumb sometimes. But Papa is dumb a lot m-mmmffmmf" Anya shoved a marshmallow into Asche's mouth so she wouldn't incriminate her any further. Asche accepted the treat and started to chew on it, loudly.

Damian raised an eyebrow at his wife, who smiled innocently up at him, batting her eyelashes.

There would be a day when that look wouldn't get her out of trouble. But today was not that day.

Damian sighed and smiled, leaning back and settling in.

After Asche finished her marshmallow, she turned back to her dad. "Did it hurt?"

Damian paused to think how he should answer. Eventually, he nodded. "Yeah quite a bit."

He pulled the two closer to him. "It was worth it though."

Anya smiled brightly at him and nuzzled into his chest, he turned and kissed the top of her head.

Asche stared at the fire, contemplating what he said.

"That's dumb." Asche eventually responded.

Damian reached up and ruffled his daughter's hair.

"We'll explain when you're older."

Asche smiled at the show of affection, and swished her head back and forth to shake her hair out of her face. She looked down just in time to see the marshmallow on her stick ignite once more.

— — —

Pyrophilic: End

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Authors notes:

Woo! We made it y'all! Congratulations!

I've said it before, but this story was a lot harder to write than the last. Specifically the middle chapters, it got easier towards the end. There were several times where I almost talked myself into stopping because I didn't feel like I had the content in my head, or if I did it wasn't translating well onto paper.

Truly, all your comments went a long way to helping me finish this. Consider this story as your 50k+ words of gratitude.

A couple notes:

Many of the elements of this story were planned from the beginning, but also many were added at the last minute. I might post my outlines at some point if people are interested, I think it's funny how much things changed or what ideas I ended up tossing out.

This chapter is the one I've been waiting a long time to write. I came up with the idea of Anya and Damian in the burning dorm as soon as I wrote about the fire in Chapter 1, and have been thinking about it ever since. It provides a nice symmetry to the story and fits with the pyrophilic theme. And the stargazing trip was also planned since Chapter 1. How we got there changed a little along the way, but for the most part the scene itself is the same. I hope you enjoyed it.

Anya's confrontation with Donovan was planned since Ch. 2 or 3. I didn't like the idea of Anya just being the damsel in distress, where her role was just to be saved. She's a strong and tenacious character, especially now that she's older, so I wanted her to save him too.

The epilogue was a last minute addition. I really liked the epilogue in my last story, and wanted this one to end on a similar fan-service-y note. I'm happy how it turned out.

The name of their daughter, Asche, is pronounced like 'asha', and it's German for ash. At first I thought the name and meaning behind it was a bit too on the nose for the theme of this story. But then I learned that when Tatsuya Endo was designing Anya, he did so by mixing elements of two of his previous one shot characters, one of which was named Ashe.

If you read my previous story, you might notice several easter eggs spread throughout the chapters of this one. Some are super subtle, but gold star to anyone that can find one. If you haven't read that one I'd encourage you to do so. It starts off super sad and depressing, but the other chapters have a feeling much closer to this story, where it's a good mix of humor, romance and angst. It's not for everyone, but I think it's worth it.

If you'd like to give feedback but don't want to post it publicly, or you just want to chat, feel free to email me at lethalcottonswab at gmail dot com

I have an idea for a spicy mini chapter for this series, call it like chapter 9.1, not convinced I'll write it yet though.

Anyway. Thank you for reading Pyrophilic. Not sure what's next. Might be in this fandom, or I might dabble in another one. I've been chewing on the idea of writing a Suletta/Miorine fic for the Witch From Mercury series, so maybe that? But I'm not done with Spy x Family fic writing. Not by a long shot.