TWs: Misgendering, even in narration, and deadnaming. It's due to ignorance, not malice.

The dream gets disturbing and is completely skippable.

Shawn turned off the shower and listened to the silence. He was alone in the bathroom again. He heard the door open and close, and his heart began to race. Was he safe? Familiar footsteps treaded in his direction and his heart didn't slow down. It was Abigail, but she was dangerous for a whole other reason.

It had been a week since their masters had fought, but the smaller argument between him and Gus seemed like the more important one. He didn't have a crush on Abigail. He couldn't. It was wrong in every way possible; he wasn't like that. He wasn't like the janitor.

Her footsteps stopped, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was able to talk to her again; Gus was letting him shower on his own with the order to stay safe. He couldn't squander the privilege.

"Good morning, Abigail," Shawn said as he opened the curtain. His mind took a second to catch up with his mouth as he added, "You look really good."

Goddamnit, he knew what that sounded like as a slave. "S-Sorry, I mean that color suits you." That wasn't much better. "You, uh… Your master gave you new clothes?"

"Yes…" Abigail answered with a look that managed to be both concerned and amused. It just wasn't fair, because the light blue v-neck t-shirt really did suit her. And it fit properly, just like the soft pants that showed her curves without drawing attention to them. The whole ensemble made his comment of her 'looking good' seem like an understatement.

And that didn't mean Gus was right. Right?

Even though Gus was a master, he couldn't be right. Those thoughts were bad thoughts, and didn't belong anywhere near a slave he didn't want to hurt. Except he just couldn't stop his eyes from tracing how her hair curled over her shoulders, with the pale blue of her shirt peeking through the brown strands…

Abigail broke through his musings by hesitating before pointing to her mouth with a questioning look. What was wrong with him? Shawn shook himself; he had to focus. She was counting on him. "What?"

"You have a strange master," she said, almost making it sound like a question.

Which wasn't the safest conversation, but it was so much better than his attempt. "Yeah… Why?"

"I think…" she ran her hand along the side of her pajama pants. "I think my master's becoming strange too."

"Because of the new clothes?"

Rowan hadn't seemed like the type to punish Abigail for someone else's outburst, but it was unexpected for them to have taken Gus' advice even after they'd fought.

"Not just the clothes. My master's been acting strange: asking questions, offering food, being…" her collar beeped and she gave a confused gesture. It was a feeling Shawn remembered well.

"Do you think they mean it?"

"Free people never say what they mean," she said with a surprising amount of frustration. A small flinch ran through her shoulders and her head ducked down.

"It's why you have to know what they want," Shawn agreed. Abigail caught his eye and a look of understanding passed between them, a shared history that people like Rowan and Gus would never understand. "When I was first trying to understand my master, I thought I knew what he wanted. I was wrong, and he was nice, but once I knew the real answer… it became easier."

She gave him a questioning look as she listened intently.

"I don't know if your master is the same" -though Shawn was starting to suspect they were- "but my master… Gus wanted me to be me. Like I was before I was sold. He wanted me to be like a person."

Abigail gave a small huff and shot off a series of sharp signs before crossing her arms.

"I didn't catch that, sorry. What?"

"I've always been a slave," she said flatly. "I don't have any 'before'."

Oh. They had a lot in common, but there were still things that were very different between them. The silence stretched as Shawn tried to think of what else Rowan might want from her. He finally gave up and just signed, 'I'm sorry.'

She nodded as her shoulders slumped in resignation. She walked to the showers without another word.

Gus shuffled through a sheaf of papers as he leaned against the wall across from the janitor's closet. He needed to go through the notes before his next class, and it was the perfect time for it as he waited for Shawn to be dropped off. Except all he was doing was staring through the paper so he wouldn't have to look at Rowan on the other side of the hallway.

Neither of them had spoken to each other since their fight a week ago. Which was fine; he didn't want to talk to them anyway.

It wasn't like they were friends or anything.

Shawn was his friend. He couldn't be friends with anyone else who would put him down like that. So, it didn't matter that he wanted to complain about the kid who wouldn't stop talking during lecture and wasted everyone's time. It didn't matter that he wanted to celebrate that they'd almost survived until the holiday weekend. It didn't matter that he'd found the perfect pun that would make them laugh… They thought Shawn could only think in one way, and that was unacceptable.

It was a relief when Gus heard the jingle of keys and the off-key humming of the janitor. Shawn had told him that this janitor was better than the last. Unfortunately, Gus didn't have a choice except to trust him, even against his better judgment. Shawn didn't have the best track record of knowing what was good or bad.

But he knew what was good or bad for Penny, so at least they had that going for them.

It didn't stop Gus from glaring at the man swaying happily to the beat of his headphones as a line of silent slaves filed behind him. He might be better, but he wasn't good.

He kept the glare up through the janitor collecting the equipment and ordering the slaves to kneel. It was safer than looking at the green-haired teen across the hall.

Abigail was worried again. Shawn fidgeted with his shower tote as he debated with himself. Was he allowed to bring it up? They hadn't had more than a few light conversations since they'd talked about their weird masters. It was hard to know if he was allowed to break the pattern.

After messing up the sign for 'lunch' three times in a row, though, it became much easier to make up his mind. "Are you ok?"

Abigail chewed her lip before slowly nodding. "I'm safe."

"So what's wrong?" He should just drop it; it wasn't like he could do anything about it…

"My master is worried."

A worried master was an unpredictable variable for a slave. "Do you think they'll take it out on you?"

She shook her head instantly. "My master doesn't do that. Never has. But… their family is coming."

"And they'll do that?" Shawn guessed.

"Sometimes…" Her lips turned down into a cute pout of frustration. "But my master said I didn't have to be worried about that…"

Ah. Now Shawn understood the familiar emotions going across her face. "But you're still worried."

She nodded, looking disgruntled. Her hands flowed through several pointed signs. 'Safe, behaving well, uncertain or unbalanced, unsafe?' She pointed at her head before making a rude sign in frustration.

Shawn huffed a laugh. "You're worried for your master."

She froze, her look stuck between shock and outrage. Her mouth clicked shut as she shot a single sign towards him. 'Master.'

"Yeah. A weird master." Shawn shrugged while giving her a knowing smile. "Been there…"

She snorted as loud as she could without triggering her collar before stalking past him. He turned to watch her and just managed to see the same rude sign aimed at him before the curtain closed.

Gus yawned as he locked the door behind him. He wasn't getting up early with Shawn anymore, but he was still waking up at the same time. Somehow, waiting in their room and praying that nothing bad happened took even more energy than just showering early.

That went for when Shawn was at work too. Gus shook the exhaustion away and focused on the door at the end of the hall. He'd pick Shawn up from the janitor, they'd watch a movie, and maybe he'd go to bed early.

His laser focus almost got him past Rowan's room without incident, but the door opened right as he walked passed. He gritted his teeth and kept moving. If they wouldn't listen to him, then he didn't have to talk to them and… were they wearing a dress?

Gus stopped and stared. Rowan stared queasily back as they quickly crossed their arms over curves that weren't usually there. Their voice was defensive as they snapped out, "What?"

"Uh…" their hair -her hair?- was wrong too, laying flat on her head in gentle waves with the white tips just barely filtering through the green. "You look… different."

"Mom's coming," was the only answer he was given. Rowan looked away as pink crept into her cheeks.

Except 'her' felt just as wrong as everything else he was seeing. That wasn't the Rowan he knew.

"Hannah! There's my girl!"

Rowan gave a barely perceptible wince before their signature grin spread across their face. "Hi, Mom!"

Even their voice was wrong, sounding higher than it should be. Their mom came into view, a short woman with a familiar large smile. She immediately engulfed Rowan in a hug, her voice muffled against their shoulder. "I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too," Rowan answered, sounding resigned as they wrapped their arms around her, doing only the bare minimum. "Did Dad come?"

"Yes, he's downstairs finding a parking spot. Though I don't know what he'll think when he sees your hair." She pulled back to look at Rowan's green hair with a disappointed frown. "What on earth possessed you to do something like that?"

"I just… thought it looked fun," Rowan said with a shrug that looked well practiced. "I like it."

"Yes, well…" their mom stepped back and straightened her skirt. "It's very… nice."

It was obvious to everyone in the building that she didn't think it was 'nice'.

"A friend did it," Rowan added defensively. "They're going into cosmetology and needed the practice."

Their mom turned to look Gus up and down. Her eyebrow quirked judgmentally. "Cosmetology? Really?"

"Not him…" Rowan sighed in exasperation. "He's just… someone who lives in the hall."

"Oh, well thank God for that." She turned her back to Gus without another look. "Why don't we go downstairs and you can show us around?"

"Yeah, sounds great." Rowan pasted a smile back on, their eyes glancing over to meet Gus' before looking away. "I have to pick up Penny first, though. She shouldn't have to wait for us to get back."

"Oh. But, your Dad…." their mother sighed. "Well, I suppose we can spare a few minutes. I'm glad to see you're still taking her seriously. Has she been useful?"

"Yeah, she has. We can take the elevator…"

Gus waited until they'd disappeared from view before moving towards the stairs. He still wasn't sure what to think about Rowan, but at the moment… he couldn't help but feel sorry for them.

It was one of the rare days that Rowan picked up Abigail before Gus got there.

And it was obvious why Abigail had said her master was unhappy. Rowan's whole existence seemed to be screaming as they calmly ordered Abigail to stand and led her away. Their mother chatted next to them, talking about anything and everything without ever asking her child anything about them.

She never once looked at Abigail either. Hopefully she'd be safe... Gus came to pick him up shortly after, but his thoughts stayed far away as he tried to guess what Abigail was doing. It wasn't until Gus was opening the door to the stairway that he tuned back into the conversation. "...you said to use the days off for Thanksgiving, but I don't want to do that. Mom'll get plenty of time as it is."

"We're staying here for the whole holiday?" Shawn asked, the surprise making it easy to override the slave-thoughts telling him to be quiet.

"No, just the next few days until the university holiday officially starts."

"Your mother's ok with that?"

Gus grinned sheepishly as they climbed the stairs. "She… doesn't know you get days off."

"Burton Gahlen Guster," Shawn said proudly. "Joining the ranks of the rule breakers."

"Technically, I am following the rules. Nothing says I have to use those days off for myself."

Shawn couldn't help his smirk as Gus' steps gained a swagger for the rest of the way to the room.

Gus wasn't particularly surprised when he heard a knock on his door that night. He blearily tried to start his brain as he leveraged himself off of his bed. If he was right, then he was going to need his mind to be sharp for the next conversation.

Shawn knelt in the corner without any hesitation, clearly also knowing who it was.

"Hey, Rowan," Gus said as he opened the door.

"Uh, hey," Rowan answered. For some reason they already sounded relieved, even though they were still wearing a dress and had their arms crossed across their chest. "Can… Can I come in?"

They'd said those things about Shawn… but Gus couldn't help but feel a kindred spirit in the 'condescending and dismissive family' connection. "Yeah, sure."

He stood to the side, and Rowan quickly walked in with their shoulders hunched up. "Thanks." They walked to the bed before hesitating, as though they didn't know if they were allowed to sit. They stayed standing and facing away from Gus as words spilled out of their mouth. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I'm not- I have lots of people who think that I should think a certain way because of things I don't have control over and I'm not and I don't do things like I should and I should've realized that that works for other things too. Just because they're slaves doesn't mean they automatically think the right way… Uh, the- the slave way."

The correction was good to hear, even if the original words still left a bad taste in Gus' mouth. "I don't think I'm the one you need to be apologizing to."

"Actually, you are." Rowan rubbed the back of their neck and finally turned around. "I, uh, owe one to both of you. So…" they visibly steeled themselves as they looked at Shawn. "I'm sorry I assumed all slaves thought the same. It makes sense that you'd be different since you were slaveturned."

A barely perceptible flinch ran through Shawn's body, and Gus stepped forward as he warned, "Rowan…"

Rowan's eyes snapped to him and desperation filled their voice as they said, "I did what you told me to. I got her new clothes, I've been trying to ask her questions even though she gets confused about it, I've been giving her more food and making the area hers. I even talked her through the pajamas and helped her decide what color to get, and I remembered you talking about Shawn not doing well at malls, so we shopped online and… and… look, I'm trying. What did I do wrong?"

Gus gaped as he tried to process the mountain of information that had just been thrown at him –and why hadn't he ever thought about online shopping before? Gus filed that thought away to examine later as he focused on the task at hand. It was obvious to him what Rowan was still doing wrong, what they were thinking wrong, but it was also obvious that they had other things to work through. Not to mention years of conditioning about slavery.

Which, honestly, meant he knew exactly how to handle them. Slaves and free people weren't all that different. He picked through his words carefully. "You… didn't do anything wrong exactly… we just think differently. I think all slaves are unique, just like all free people are unique. We're all the same, we just have to deal with different stuff." Like slaves being told they weren't people for the entirety of their lives… "The changes you've made are good."

"So, we're ok?" Rowan asked hopefully.

Gus glanced at Shawn, who was clearly locked in thought. What was going on in his head? "Yeah. We're ok."

Rowan's whole body relaxed and they moved quickly, wrapping their arms around Gus and giving him a large squeeze. "Thank you."

Gus froze at the unexpected hug before tentatively patting Rowan's back. "Uh, you're welcome."

Pink tinged Rowan's cheeks as they stepped back.

"Uh, since we're doing the 'sharing is caring' thing…" their hands fidgeted at their side before they clasped them together. "I'm not… I mean I'm-" They let out an annoyed sigh. "I'm broken; this" –they tapped their head hard enough to give Gus a headache– "doesn't work right. I've tried, but I can't ever do what I'm supposed to, and I really don't blame anyone for not understanding, because I don't understand… But you heard Mom, and you saw this" –they gestured in disgust at their dress– "and right now, college, is the first time I've ever been able to really be me. And I don't want that to change."

"'Yourself' being 'Rowan' and not 'Hannah'?" Gus guessed.

Rowan slumped in relief, even as the tension in their voice betrayed their fear. "Yes. I'm sorry… I'm sorry I can't be normal, and I get it if you don't want to hang out- I mean, we kinda weren't hanging out anyways. This could just make it easier."

Talking to a freaked out Rowan was surprisingly similar to talking to a freaked out Shawn, even if they talked their way around the answer in different ways. And from what he knew of Rowan, they'd probably keep going for several minutes if he didn't give them a hand. He kept his voice even and gentle as he asked, "What, exactly, is 'this'?"

Rowan's hands clasped together again, their knuckles turning white. "'This' is that I'm not… normal. I'm not either one. Girl or boy. I'm… something in the middle." There was a loud beat of silence before they quietly added, "And I think that might be the first time I've ever said it out loud."

It seemed like they expected Gus to attack them or make fun of them. But it was the only answer that made sense for them. And, really, weren't they all living in between the lines? Gus was somewhere between what his family wanted and what he wanted. Shawn was somewhere between a person and a slave. And Shawn and Gus' whole relationship was somewhere between friendship and ownership…

They were all just a bunch of teenagers trying to find their place in the world.

And sometimes the simplest answer was the best one. "That's ok. And thanks for telling me."

"You're… uh, welcome." Rowan's eyes glistened, and they rubbed them quickly.

Gus felt the familiar sympathy tightness in the back of his throat and he quickly looked around for a distraction. They did not need him to start crying too. "Do you have to go back to your parents right away?"

"No… I, uh, told them I had a project to finish up and that I'd meet them after dinner. It wasn't a complete lie…"

"Have you ever seen the Breakfast Club?"

Their face lit up with a full smile. "No, I haven't."

Relief and happiness had Gus' face match theirs. He hadn't lost a friend. "Go grab Penny, I bet you'll like it. We'll bring the snacks."

Shawn glanced up, the gratefulness in his eyes easy to see. Gus acknowledged it with a small nod as Rowan walked past.

They paused at the door and quietly said, "Thanks…"

"You're welcome," Gus answered solemnly. It was obvious they weren't just talking about the movie.

As soon as the door closed, Gus turned to Shawn. "Are you ok?"

"I don't know." Shawn hesitated before looking up. "It's… It's my stuff. You did good."

"Thanks," Gus answered as warmth spread across his chest. Curiosity pulled on him, but he kept it in check; Shawn had just set a boundary. He could listen to it and not ask what the 'stuff' was. "Do you need time before we get the food together?"

Shawn shook his head as he stood up. "I'm ok. Can… Are we making popcorn?"

"Of course. It's a movie night." Gus looked at the sun still streaming through the window. "Well, movie afternoon. Popcorn is a given."

"Can w-we make enough for… for all four of us?"

Pride swelled in Gus' chest, joining the warmth and eclipsing the lingering curiosity. They'd made enough for everyone last time too, but this was the first time Shawn had actually asked for it. "Of course we can."

Shawn's grateful smile almost made Gus self-implode with feelings. "I'll grab the movie and computer."

"I've got the popcorn and salt," Shawn agreed. They both gathered their things and met at the door.

Gus smirked and opened the door. "After you."

Shawn just rolled his eyes fondly and walked through first.

The room was warm and cozy as Shawn knelt and watched the movie on an old tube television set. Scratchy music played as the characters danced, their bodies warping whenever a series of thin lines rose through the screen. The image cleared and Shawn looked over, seeing Abigail staring enraptured at the scene. Her eyes glanced over and they colored with a spark of mischief as she flared her nose. Shawn let a small smile crease the corners of his mouth as they enjoyed their private joke.

He looked back at the TV. A man with a dark goatee looked back.

His breath caught in his throat as the man grinned at him through the screen, racing lines mangling his face as his teeth flashed white. The image jerked as a distorted voice played out of the speakers. "Hell- Hell- Hello, Tom."

Shawn couldn't look away. He needed to look away, to warn Abigail, to tell her to run. Glass shattered against the ground and a gnarled hand tipped with nails as sharp as knives reached out of the broken television set. With a single blink, the arm was followed by a body that dripped blood on the floor. A trail of smeared red led directly to Shawn. He had to get away. But a chain pulled tight, suspending his collar from the ceiling, holding him still. Abigail was still there, frozen in place as a series of lines traveled up, trying to pull her apart.

"Do you- Do you- Do you think she's pretty?" the creature with his master's face asked, static edging its voice. Its head lowered close to the ground as another hand joined the first, the knives clicking against the wood floor. Cruel blue eyes pierced through Shawn's soul, never moving as the face began to rotate, the neck contorting grotesquely as it finished its spin. "You were pretty."

Shawn flinched and blue eyes filled his vision. His head hit the chain, pulling the collar tight across his throat as he tried to get away. Something sharp stroked his cheek, trailing a warm, sticky substance behind it. "You were so pretty… think I could make you cry?" The voice changed, deepening as it lost the sound of static. "Make you pretty again?"

A forked tongue licked his ear, and the smell of stale cigarette smoke filled his sinuses like tar. The creature whispered, "We could make her pretty too…"

Shawn gasped as he jolted awake. He had to keep Abigail safe. Darkness surrounded him, he couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't breathe… He had to find her; he had to keep her safe. He had to… Something soft was under his hand, something soft like a blanket and mattress. His heart pounded in his chest.

He was never allowed to stay on the bed, what was going on? His master always made him chain himself to the floor before activating the cuffs at nighttime. Were they about to… No. He didn't think about that. Just like he didn't think about the whips and the burns and the pepper spray and the canes and the broken bones and the… But where was Abigail? He needed to keep her safe.

Shawn looked around, his gaze catching on a glowing pineapple. Which was strange. His master never left lights on for him… No, that master hadn't left lights on for him. Now he had a friend who did… The room spun without moving, and Shawn breathed through the vertigo as the present solidified around him.

He was in a dorm room, he had food, he was safe, he had a friend who just happened to be a master. And when had that happened? When had that changed from being a master who happened to be a friend? It didn't matter, but it did bring up another question. Shawn listened carefully, hearing the deep, even breaths of his friend-master.

His nightmares used to wake Gus almost all of the time, but that had been before the exhaustion of college had caught up to him. Now Shawn only had them once or twice a week, and Gus was only being woken up once or twice a month. It was good for him to not be bothering his master, but it was also proof that he wasn't taking good enough care of his friend.

Shawn shook the worries away only for another one to take its place. Was Abigail safe? It was ridiculous, it had only been a dream, but he still had a visceral need to check on her.

But why?

The monster in his dream was wrong, it wasn't because of that. Except, Gus had said the same thing, and he kept thinking those types of things, and was it because of that?

And how could he think like that? He knew what it was like to be on the other end of it; he knew what it was like to not have a choice. She didn't own herself; she'd never have the choice. He couldn't think like that.

Maybe that's what his dream had been trying to tell him. The monster with his old master's face… it hadn't been his master at all. It had been him.

"Did you notice?" Abigail asked the morning after the movie. "The rebel… he really liked his nose flares…"

"Yeah, that's a Judd Nelson specialty."

His old master had wanted to hurt him, to break him, to own him… He didn't want any of that for Abigail. He wanted to protect her, to make her smile, to learn more about her.

"She's a slave."

"News flash; so are you."

Maybe Gus had a point this time. Shawn didn't own himself either… he couldn't make Abigail do anything even if he tried.

"She's not just a tool."

More than that, he didn't want to make her do anything. The only reason he even asked questions was so she could talk. So… maybe he wasn't a monster? Maybe it was ok to have a crush on her?

His heart raced in his chest and he swallowed thickly. Just because he could didn't mean he had to act on it right away. He could wait; he had time. He laid back down in his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, retreating to good memories to shield himself from his dreams.

Abigail's popcorn bag was empty. Shawn held his out in a silent offering, and she smiled gratefully as she reached out. Her hand dipped down after grabbing a handful of kernels, brushing their knuckles together before she brought the food to her mouth. The spark in her eyes made it obvious that it had been on purpose.

Shawn smiled and fell back asleep. The night passed without any more nightmares.

A/N: Fun fact/author-CYA: Rowan was non-binary way before I'd come up with their coming out scene. Originally, I was never going to have their assigned gender at birth or their official identity mentioned. They were just going to be a non-binary like Gus was a boy. Then this scene came to me after talking to a friend about the character and it fit the theme so nicely. SO. I hope I didn't make any enbies feel like their gender was being used just as a theme, it was never my intent. And, I chose the "in between" version of non-binary gender for this story, but that's not the only kind of non-binary person out there. Genderfluid, agender, demi-gender, gendervoid, and more can all fall under that umbrella. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.