Chapter Text A single concentrated ray of sunlight pierces between the veil of our bedroom window blinds, aiming true and landing directly on my eyelid. I squint, trying fruitlessly to wave a hand in front of my face to deflect the oppressive sunbeam, but it does not relent. I let out a groan as I shift my position over in bed, attempting to escape its waking onslaught. My sound and movement causes Lucy to stir. She lifts her head away from my chest, a small tendril of drool keeping her mouth and my torso tethered together for a brief moment. Since she primarily sleeps on her stomach because of her wings and tail, it’s not uncommon for her to fall asleep like this. Even if she begins the night utilizing her pillow, she’ll often shift her sleeping head from it to my chest. Not that I’m complaining. As I pry my eyes open, I see her blinking away her own sleepiness as she hazily smacks her lips. She mumbles, “... G’morning. What… what time is it?” I reach my hand over, limply slapping at the bedside nightstand as I try to locate my phone. My fingers come into contact with the folder I was reading last night that contains all those leaflets and brochures; I wiggle my hand trying to brush it aside from its position atop my mobile device. *Flump.* The folder claps onto the floor, a few pamphlets sliding out of it. Lucy rocks slightly at the sudden sound, her eyes opening a little wider. Though still bleary with grogginess, she looks up at me and mumbles again, “Heeeey settle down with all that noise. I’m tryin’ to sleep here.” She plops her head back down on my chest and snuggles closer to me, wrapping her arms and wings tightly around my torso. I sigh as I keep pawing at my phone, my fingers finally finding purchase upon its plastic case. I bring the device up to my eyes and press the power button, illuminating its screen to show the large digits of the clock: 9:14 AM. Wow. We really slept in- I jolt upright, causing Lucy to gasp and pull herself up to her arms next to me. Her eyes are wide awake now. “Wha- what is it, Anon?!” “I forgot to set my alarm! I’m- we’re both late for…” Lucy cocks her eyebrow in a look of contempt as realization slowly dawns on me. Oh. Oh yeah. We don’t have to go to work today. I let out a long, embarrassed breath as I slump back into bed and rest the phone on my nightstand again. “Never mind. I’m retarded.” Lucy giggles at this and repositions herself across my chest, looking up at me with a grin. “It’s okay. I always knew you were special.” I glance down at the cooling strand of drool that still rests on my pectoral and consider making a snarky remark in reply, but decide against it. Instead, I wrap an arm around Lucy’s back and gently rub the spot just below where her wings protrude from her form. She responds with a soft hum as she closes her eyes, her wings involuntarily folding outwards slightly as I massage her. She takes a slow breath in through her nostrils. “Mmm… do you think we could just stay in bed all day?” “Hey, we can do whatever we want.” I pause for a moment, looking down at her slender form half-covered by our blankets. “Though… we probably shouldn’t waste the whole day like that.” Her claw slowly draws a circle on my chest. She lifts her head to face mine, a sultry and mischievous look in her eyes. She gives me a sly grin as her hand slides down past my stomach and under the sheets. Well then. I suppose we will be spending a little more time in bed this morning, after all. — We eventually find our way out of each other’s loving embrace, albeit hesitantly, as our natural bodily functions force us to take a break from one another. As Lucy tends to her morning ritual, I scoop the folder contents that were strewn across the bedroom floor back into their home and make my way to the kitchen in search of breakfast. After plopping the folder on the kitchen table, I scratch my back and pull open the refrigerator door, only for several plastic containers of leftovers to come tumbling out. Frantically, I snatch them from their descent before they can collide with the floor and burst open. Well… so long as I’ve got all these foodstuffs in my arms, I may as well turn leftovers into breakfast. I’m sure we’ll have leftovers for lunch, too. And dinner? You guessed it. I shouldn’t be bitter, but for crying out loud, Samantha. Make just a little less food next time. As I set the items on the counter and begin mulling over what to combine with what to create an appetizing breakfast, Lucy walks out the bedroom holding a deflated tube of toothpaste. “Welp. Guess what I just used the last of?” I glance from the shriveled tube she presents to her waiting eyes. Not one to give a straight answer in a situation where I can be a sarcastic asshole, I reply, “... Toilet bowl cleaner?” She rolls her eyes. “No. I couldn’t have used the last of our toilet bowl cleaner if I wanted, mom and dad got us three freaking bottles of it. You know what they didn’t bring?” She wiggles the expended toothpaste container at me to answer the question. I let out a guffaw. “Ha! For all the free stuff they gifted to us, no toothpaste? I’m leaving the Aaron Charity Foundation a bad review on Gruugle. One outta ten.” Lucy smirks. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to swing by the store later. Let me know if there’s anything else we need.” I survey the kitchen and its packed refrigerator, cupboards and shelves with an exaggerated sweep of my head. “Do we still need a dune buggy? We could use a couple dune buggies.” She giggles at this, then cranes her neck to peek at what I’ve got strewn across the counter. “What are you making?” I pop the lid off of a container with some leftover hamburger meat within. “I dunno. Maybe in a few minutes I’ll bring it into the bedroom for you.” She cocks her head for a moment, then realization spreads across her face as her eyes widen and a smile overtakes her. “... Breakfast in bed?!” She squeals in delight and dances back to the bedroom, the claws on her toes tapping away at the hallway’s wood floor as she goes. I can’t help but grin to myself as I toss a few items into a pan and begin heating them up on the stove. If anyone deserves a nice little treat like breakfast in bed, especially after everything, it’s Lucy. A few minutes later, I return to the bedroom with a plate of food in each hand. Lucy excitedly giggles and claps her hands together as she sits upright with her legs tucked under the comforter. As I take a seat next to her and hold a plate in her direction, she opens her mouth wide, closes her eyes and gives a sing-song “Ahhh!” In reply, I set her plate on her lap, then lightly tap the end of her snoot. She closes her beak and looks in my direction with an exaggerated pout. I shrug as I bring a spoonful of breakfast to my own mouth. “I told you I’d bring you breakfast in bed, not that I’d feed it to you.” She lets out a puff of air. “Hmph! Fiiine.” Her fake pouting is quickly replaced with excitement as she brings her plate up to eye level, at which point her expression shifts to confusion. “Oooh, this is… erm… what is this?” I finish swallowing my own mouthful of food before I reply. “Leftover surprise.” She tilts the plate this way and that, suspiciously eyeing its contents. Admittedly, my concoction does not look appealing. “... Consider me surprised.” She hesitantly brings a spoonful up to her beak and bites down. Her skepticism is steadily replaced with delight. “... Mmmmm! Thish ish acshually prebby goob!” Unlike me, she doesn’t swallow her food before speaking. “I’m glad you like it. We’ll be having more like this for the next several years of our lives after all the leftovers your mother graciously burdened us with.” Lucy gets a big grin on her face as she finishes her bite. “Yay! Thanks, mom!” Once we finish up our breakfast, I collect Lucy’s plate from her and head back out to the kitchen. As I set them in the sink and turn on the faucet, I hear her approach from behind. “I can take care of those, honey. After all, you cook, I clean, right?” I shake my head and smile. “I’ve got it, sweetie. I want to spoil you sometimes, too.” As I start rinsing the plates, I feel her arms slide around my sides as she hugs me from behind. Her head nuzzles into the flat of my back as she squeezes herself close. “I love you, Anon.” I glance over my shoulder, holding my soaked hands up in front of me. “Well, this isn’t fair. I want to hug you back, but you’ve caught me at a disadvantage.” She giggles. “Good. I’m staying like this ‘til you’re done.” True to her word, she remains latched to my back as I finish rinsing the dishes and silverware before setting them on the counter. I dry my hands off, finally able to rotate around and reciprocate her gesture. As she looks up at me, I reply, “I love you too, Lucy.” I can still taste traces of our breakfast as we kiss. Once we separate, I take a deep breath through my nostrils before speaking. “Well… to be honest, I did have an ulterior motive this morning.” She smiles as she cocks her head inquisitively. “Oh? And what would that be?” I nod towards the folder that rests on the kitchen table. “I was wondering if you might be up for spending some time today taking a look through that with me. Maybe talking a little bit about our game plan moving forward.” She follows the direction of my nod until her eyes fall on the folder. She stares at it for a moment before turning back to me with a long, steadying breath. The look of resolve I saw in her eyes yesterday in the bathroom is back. “Okay. I’ll do it.” I take her hands in my own. “We’ll go at your pace, okay? I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” She nods and takes a seat at the kitchen table, looking down upon the closed folder once more. I grab a pen and a few sheets of paper from a nearby drawer and sit across from her, clicking the papers together on the tabletop in an unintended air of officiality. She glances up at me with a small smile. “What’re those for?” “I figured we could, you know… take some notes. Jot some stuff down, outline some goals.” I hesitate. “Erm… I always see Dr. Fitzgerald taking notes, so I figured maybe it could help, you know?” Her smile widens a bit. “Oh? Are you playing the role of Dr. Fitzgerald today?” I smirk. “I’ll have to be a lot more humorless than I usually am, but I’ll do my best.” As I flatten the papers in front of me and uncap the pen, I look back up at Lucy. “... I think we should try to do two things today. One, we review some of the materials in the folder and see if we can find any tips and advice for helping you overcome your preening.” At mention of the word, Lucy flinches slightly, but maintains her resolve. “Two, we go over where we’re at with the possibility of reconnections with our old friends.” As I start to list their names, I begin writing them on the paper, leaving space under each entry. “We’ve got Trish… Reed… Ro-” I cut myself off, my pen freezing in place. I haven’t told Lucy about Rosa or Stella yet. With everything that happened, I didn’t get a chance to. I set the pen down and cross my arms as I quickly consider. I need to tell Lucy about them now, and… I just hope she can be strong enough to handle the news. Lucy cocks her head quizzically as I remain in silence for a moment and mull things over. After a moment, I uncross my arms and take a breath. “Okay, Lucy. Cards on the table. I told you I’d be honest with you moving forward, and this is everything I’ve got left.” She leans back slightly and also takes a breath, preparing herself for what’s to come. “Because apparently the stars are in some sort of insane alignment, I’ve also bumped into Rosa and Stella over the past couple weeks.” She blinks. “... Are you serious?” “I am. And, in fact…” I hold up a finger, wordlessly asking her to give me a moment. I leave the table and go into the bedroom. After a moment, I retrieve the item I’m looking for. I then travel back out to the front entryway, open the closet near the front door, and retrieve a second item. Lucy follows me with her gaze as I do this, her eyes brimming with curiosity. As I take a seat again, the items I retrieved concealed in my hands, I continue. “I figured I should bring some proof. First up is the meeting that happened a little further back.” With this, I drop a small bag of flower seeds onto the table between us. Lucy looks down at it, then back up to me with wide eyes. I shrug. “You said it yourself, I did a great job picking out the flowers we planted outside. Thing is… I-” Lucy cuts me off. “‘You got a little help.’ That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Where did you get the flowers from?” “Place called ‘Florería’, over in Little Troodon. It’s only a block or two away from Pachy Pizza… that place that used to be Moe’s.” I flinch as I bring up that location again, recalling the bad memories from our last trip there. However, Lucy doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. Whether it’s because she didn’t notice or because she’s being strong is unclear, but I pray it’s the latter. I continue, “I probably should have guessed, given the name and all, but I was still caught completely off guard when Rosa greeted me there and gushed about how wonderful it was to see me again.” Lucy… smiles. She actually smiles at this. I breathe a small sigh of relief; she’s taking this so much better than I could have hoped already. She speaks up. “Rosa was always so sweet in high school. To a fault, even.” With this last statement, Lucy flicks her eyebrows slightly. I nod in agreement. “You’re not wrong there. She’s still somewhat overbearing even as a flower peddler. She’s, uh… well, she got married. Nice ankylosaurus gentleman who works at the shop with her named Ramón, barely speaks English but seems to be a good fit for Rosa. I think she said she met him on a mission trip. And they’ve got…” I pause for a moment. “... Well, at this point, they might have three kids.” Lucy balks at this. “I’m sorry, what?” “Yep. They’ve got twins, um…” I try to recall their names. “... Hector and… Emily? No… Amelia. Hector and Amelia. And when I visited, she was pregnant with a third. Very pregnant. Like, due any day pregnant. I didn’t ask when their next one was expected, but her water coulda broke right when I was standing there talking to her and I wouldn’t have been surprised. That’s why I said they might be up to three now.” The look of amazement in Lucy’s eyes has been replaced with one of motherly longing. “Did they have a name picked out for their new baby?” I think again. “Yeah. Isabella.” As Lucy looks past me with a warm, hopeful smile on her face, I clear my throat, embarrassed by what I have to say next. “Um… Lucy, I’m… sorry that I didn’t tell you about her sooner. I promise I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret from you. It’s just… with everything else that happened, there was never a good time.” Lucy shakes her head as she reaches across the table and puts her hands on my own. “It’s okay, Anon. I…” She averts her gaze downward. “... I overreacted before. I’m-” She stops herself. After a moment, she looks back up at me. “I promised I wouldn’t apologize about it anymore.” I turn my hands upward, closing my fingers around hers. “I’m proud of you, honey. You’re doing great.” She smiles at me before looking down towards the second item I brought to the table. I slide the tarot card that Stella had given me over to her and flip it over, revealing the Lovers. “Stella stopped by the hospital while you were still unconscious. We talked for a few minutes. She had me draw this from her tarot deck before I left, though I think she lended a hand to get me to pull this particular card.” Lucy picks up the card and looks down at it as she considers. “... How did Stella know I was at the hospital?” I fight against the stupid grin on my face as I clue her in. “You’re not going to believe me when I tell you.” She cocks her head again. “Stella is dating Bill.” Lucy may have looked gobsmacked before when I mentioned Rosa’s three kids, but now her mouth literally hangs open. I exhale in acknowledgement of the absurdity of the situation. “Yep. Made me feel like a dumbass when she stepped out from behind him. Bill had told me a little about who he was seeing online: her name was something like ‘PreCureCutie’, he said she was a stegosaurus, that she was 21 years old… of course, my excuse is that he prattled incessantly about his online GF’s so often that they all blended together. This one just managed to stick longer than a week.” Lucy shakes the shock away from her face. “Wait a minute. So when Bill was being all coy about who he was dating…” I nod. “Stella’s request. She figured out I worked with Bill before I realized he was dating her. She wanted him to keep that information on the down-low.” She scratches the bottom of her snout in thought. “That still doesn’t explain how she ended up at the hospital.” At this, I think back. I was also surprised to see her, and it took me a while to deduce how that managed to happen. “When I called work to let Rick know I wouldn’t be coming in, he asked which hospital I was at. At the time, I didn’t expect he’d swing by, and I certainly didn’t expect Bill would come, too. Rick mentioned that Bill was pestering him as to my whereabouts, since we had so recently had our encounter with Kevin. Bill was worried Kevin had done something to me, or to you.” I blink a few times. “As for why Stella was with him, I didn’t ask, so I can only guess he messaged her once he found out I was in the hospital and why, and she asked to come along.” Lucy looks back down at the tarot card again. “She’s even still got these silly cards with her, huh?” Her gaze goes distant. “... I wish I could have seen her.” I place my hands on Lucy’s again. “The reason she kept herself a secret from us is because of how badly she felt about what went down in high school. When I spoke to her, she apologized for everything that happened back then. She wanted to give her support for you.” Her eyes start to grow misty. “Why are they all apologizing to me? I should be the one apologizing to them.” I shift over to the chair next to Lucy and scoot closer so I’m sitting side by side with her. I slide a hand behind her back and draw her closer to me, taking her hand in my other. She mirrors the gesture, also wrapping her wing around me in our side-seated embrace. She rests her head on my shoulder and lets out a shuddering sigh as she fights back her emotions. I rub her back gently. “They all miss you and I think they all want to be friends with you again. Everybody is remorseful about how things went back then, and they all brought it up. Well… except for Rosa.” Lucy looks up at me. Her eyes are still moist but she isn’t crying. “Except for Rosa?” “She didn’t even acknowledge anything about what happened in high school when I bumped into her. She was too busy being over the moon about seeing me again. She immediately asked about you… she suspected we were together, so she was looking past me in the shop expecting to find you there, too.” A smile works its way across my face. “Pretty much the only thing she said about you was how much she wanted you to meet her children.” A smile tugs on the sides of Lucy’s mouth. “... Yeah, that sounds like Rosa.” She sniffles and looks down at the table, creating a mental checklist. “... Reed, Trish, Rosa and Stella…” She looks back up at me. “... So where does that leave me?” I think for a moment before I echo her question back to her. “Where does that leave you? At this point, it’s your rodeo. Everybody wants to reconnect with you. As far as I can tell, nobody is holding any grudges or animosity. They just want to be friends again.” She casts her gaze downward. “... Then the burden lies with me. I’m the only roadblock left.” I gently rub her back and kiss the top of her head. “Two weeks ago, we didn’t even have an inkling that any of our old friends were still around. Now, today, we’re actually sitting down and discussing reuniting with them, and you’ve done an absolutely incredible job staying strong.” She glances up at me and opens her mouth to say something, but I interject. “And, no. It’s not my doing. I’m supporting you. You’re the one finding the strength to overcome this hurdle.” She leans against my shoulder again, nuzzling her head into my neck. She doesn’t speak for a few moments, simply breathing steadily as she thinks. I continue holding her, willing to give her all the time she needs. After a bit, she straightens up. I let her go and simply sit by her side as she composes her thoughts further. “... When I think about everything rationally… when I go over everything in my head, I can’t come up with any good reasons as to why I should feel this way. Why I should be so nervous, so terrified of seeing them again. I’m sorry for everything I put them through…” She looks up at me. “... and from what you said, they’re sorry, too. But… I still feel… wrong.” I cock my head as I look at her compassionately, trying to understand what she’s saying. She shakes her head and sighs. “It’s… it’s still all jumbled up. Like a box full of puzzle pieces that got dumped onto the table. I know I can put the puzzle together, with time, but… what if some of the pieces are missing? What if the finished picture isn’t one I want to see?” She wraps her hand around her opposite arm and squeezes. “I… I’ll sound stupid for saying this…” I gently place an arm on her shoulder, wordlessly encouraging her to continue. She sighs again. “... I feel like they stole something from me. It’s like they took something away from me that was so important, and now they’re coming back and saying that they’re sorry… but that thing is still gone. I just… can’t figure out what it is. My youth? My innocence? My trust?” She brings her hand to the side of her temple and rubs it as she squeezes her eyes shut. “I just can’t make sense of it.” In my brain, a gear slowly comes to life. The gear is connected to nothing, yet begins turning all the same. I scratch my chin as I consider her words. She looks up at me again with remorse in her eyes. “I wish I could have been able to say I’m ready to meet them… but I’m still not there yet.” I gently shake my head as I place my hands on her shoulders. “I said before we started that we’re taking things at your pace. I want you to feel comfortable and I don’t want to force you to push harder than you can manage. You’ve done an incredible job already and I’m proud of you.” She gives a small smile and leans forward into my arms, allowing me to embrace her. Her muffled voice escapes from my chest. “... Thank you, Anon.” We remain like this a while longer; I gently stroke her hair as she rests in my warmth with closed eyes and steady breath. After a short while, we separate from one another. I glance from Lucy to the folder on the table. “We’ve covered a lot of ground already, but are you feeling up for looking through the folder, too?” She smiles, but shakes her head. “If it’s all the same, I wouldn’t mind taking a little break.” “That’s totally fine. Anything you’d like to do?” She ponders for a moment. “... I wouldn’t say no to a movie.” I nod approvingly. “Theater or here?” “I just wanna snuggle up with you and watch something here.” I give her a gentle smile and take her hand as we head into the bedroom. We don’t have a television in our living room; haven’t needed one, honestly, since we don’t find ourselves hosting movie nights. Besides that, the home theater set-up in her parents’ basement is gargantuan, so we’ve just gone over there when her folks want to watch a movie with us. As I pick up the remote, Lucy plops down on her half of the bed. She gives me a mischievous grin as I approach. “I get to pick the movie, right?” I raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Um… sure? I’m spoiling you today, after all.” Her grin widens. “I wanna watch something from your queue.” Oh no. “Lucy, come on. You know my queue is fucked, it’s all rom-com garbage!” She looks absolutely sinister now. “I know. I wanna watch the TRASH!” We normally just watch stuff from her profile since we enjoy most of the same types of movies, but every once in a while a strange combination of her womanly need to occasionally absorb awful chick flicks and her playful desire to see me squirm uncomfortably causes this exact situation to happen. I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to see this side of her come out today, especially given the conversation we just left in the kitchen, but… I suppose it could be worse. I resign myself to my fate. “Fine. Fine! Fine. I deserve this.” She cheers in delight as I slump into the bed and select my profile. Sure enough, the entire “recommended” page is awash in a horrific landscape of vapid women and hunky men smiling at one another from opposite sides of a Christmas tree, a sun-drenched beach or a confused dog. All the finest cinematic masterpieces featuring plots and characters that even an AI can write more convincingly. Lucy snatches the remote from my hand and begins paging through the available choices. I respond with an exaggerated frown. “I thought you loved me.” She lets out a snort. “I do, but you love me, too, which means I get to pick… this one.” The cursor rests on a particularly awful-looking film with a pair of compsognathus’ holding one another’s hands and smiling as they are dwarfed by dinosaurs twice their height on all sides. I look at Lucy, my mouth agape. “... ‘Diminutive Love’? Are you serious right now?” She can barely hold back her giggles. “It- pfffft… It looks good!” “What do you mean, ‘it looks good’?! What the actual hell even is this?! I have to watch a romance story about a couple of compies?! I feel like I’m gonna end up on a list!” Her thin facade finally breaks. Barely able to hit the “Play” button, she tips over on the bed, fully overtaken by a fit of laughter. She grips her sides as she wheezes for breath. I continue leaning into the bit, ranting about how awful this movie is going to be and pleading for release from the waking nightmare of wooden acting and a cringe-inducing romance plot. Though I play at being livid, I can’t help but smile as I see my wife overtaken by giddiness. As her laughter dies down, she snuggles up next to me as we begin our slog through cinematic mediocrity. As expected, the movie is incomprehensible drivel, with the same copy-pasted script we’ve seen a dozen times over now. Compy woman is a little dinosaur in a big city, trying to make her way as a part-time party planner and somehow affording a massive studio apartment in the process. When she bumps into a rich and what I suppose you’d call “handsome” for a compsognathus dude during one of her party plans, the two predictably hit it off. Our viewing experience is made much more enjoyable by Lucy and I riffing on the movie, inserting our own lines of dialogue into moments of long silence and calling out its massive plot holes a’la Mystery Science Theater 201M3000 BC. Mercifully, the film is only about 80 minutes long; as we near the big conclusion where the man and woman finally confess their feelings for one another, we’re treated to, of all things, a musical number. Lucy and I both groan as the compsognathus woman takes a seat at a piano that appears comically oversized given her height, and begins playing a tune on it. Of course, Lucy balks at this, laughing as she speaks. “Whaaat?! Did they ever even mention in the movie that she knew how to play the piano?!” I chuckle at this, but I find myself unable to reply. Something about the scene catches me off guard. I watch as the woman’s slender fingers work their way across the ivories of the piano, clearly mismatching the dubbed song that plays as the onlookers sway and grin stupidly to the music. The woman’s face, though… she wears a serene kind of smile. Her acting has been God-awful this whole movie, but in this moment… she almost seems introspective. Hopeful. A second gear falls into place, its squared teeth interlocking with the first and turning in unison. “Anon? You good, hon?” Lucy’s voice snaps me out of my haze. I notice the credits are rolling, though I don’t feel that I missed anything important. I shake my head. “I’m fine. That movie just about made me catatonic.” She flicks her eyebrows at me. “I happened to think it was charming and romantic.” “You were laughing through it more than I was!” “That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the love story!” I roll my eyes. As much as I love this woman, there are some mysteries of the fairer sex that will forever elude me. She responds to my mild annoyance by nuzzling her snout into my cheek. I reciprocate the gesture by gently rubbing the back of her neck. She closes her eyes and lets out a soft murmur. “Mmm… I prefer you over that compy guy any day.” I glance down at her. “I didn’t realize it was a competition. At least I’ve got him beat in the height department.” She smiles up at me. “Looks, too. And personality. Charm. Bravado.” She blinks. “... Really, it’s not much of a competition at all. That guy was a weiner.” I chuckle. “Speaking of, I think there’s some leftover hot dogs calling our names. You up for some lunch?” She nods enthusiastically, giving me a quick kiss before hopping off of the bed. I follow suit and we make our way to the land of eternal leftovers, fixing some plates of microwaveable goodness. As we sit at the table and begin gnawing away at our midday meal, I glance from Lucy to the folder that still rests between us. I swallow my food before speaking. “How are you feeling?” She does the same, finishing her mouthful before she replies. “Good. As bad as the movie was, it helped clear my head and cheer me up.” She also glances down at the folder. “We can go through some of that… if you want.” I smile at her. “I think that’s a great idea.” We finish up our lunch and I clear our places from the table; we opted to eat from paper plates so clean-up is a cinch. Lucy pulls the folder closer to herself, staring at its ominous face. A plain blue folder with a single line of text adorning a sterile white label: “Self-Harm and Suicide Prevention Resources”. I place my hand on top of hers. “I paged through it a little last night. It’s really not that bad, mostly pamphlets with tips and suggestions.” I give her a reassuring smile. She lets out a sigh. “I feel awful that I’d even need to be given something like this.” This causes me to pause. I lift a finger as I stand from the table, mimicking what I did earlier today when I fetched the items related to Rosa and Stella. “Give me one second. I wanna see if I can find where I put that…” Lucy looks at me with curiosity as I turn towards the spare room. I open the door, revealing the smaller space that’s currently staging a host of odds and ends: my weight bench, which I really should get back to using, several stacks of boxes containing miscellaneous items of Lucy and I’s that have yet to find a more permanent home, and… a filing cabinet. I slide the metal drawer open, wincing as my ears are assaulted by its old hinges scraping together. Peering at its contents, I begin thumbing through the few folders we have. Some assorted paperwork from closing on our home, a few receipts and documents from our wedding, pay stubs and other miscellaneous forms are tucked into each slot. We should probably make a day of organizing some of this, but… As my hand nears the end of the cabinet, I spot what I’m looking for. I withdraw the folder, close the drawer and head back to the kitchen. Lucy waits patiently, her own folder still closed in front of her. I take a seat, meeting her eyes with my own. “I thought it would be easier to just show you. You’re not the only one who was given a resource like what you’ve got in front of you.” I set the folder in my hands next to the one in front of her. As she reads its face, her eyes widen slightly. “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder: Treatment and Prevention of Side Effects” “Dr. Fitzgerald gave it to me during our first meeting. I was pretty damn close to throwing the thing in the garbage. At the time, I refused to believe that I had PTSD, and…” I pause. “... well, I’m still not sure if I do have it. Sure, I have bad dreams, but… it’s never been something that affected my day to day. At least… I don’t think so.” I scratch the back of my head. “Anyway, I’m willing to bet that our folders have some overlap. We’d probably even find some of the same pamphlets between them.” I look up from the folders to Lucy. Her eyes meet mine and she offers me a weak smile. “I guess that makes us folder buddies.” I smile back. “Guess so.” We spend the next hour paging through various leaflets and brochures within her folder. I had read partway through one of the pamphlets last night, though I didn’t remember which one it was; many of the included resources have similar covers and overall sentiments. Lucy picks one that contains some sections where she can write down answers to questions, like “Who are some people that make you feel safe and you can contact for support?” and “What do you like about your body?” I slide one of the pens on the table over to her, pulling the still mostly blank note paper and the other pen towards myself. Lucy begins filling in some of the questions in the pamphlet, stopping to think and consider between each one she answers. Meanwhile, I thumb through another pamphlet and use the blank paper to jot down anything that jumps out at me as especially relevant to our situation. Self-harm comes in a lot of shapes and sizes. One pamphlet went so far as identifying numerous things that can be classified as forms of self-harm, including overeating and starvation, smoking and drinking, and getting yourself into situations that lead to harm such as fist fights and reckless thrill-seeking. It gave some interesting perspective on the whole matter, though I don’t know that I’d agree that every single thing that could potentially lead to injury is a form of self-harm; more importantly, it got me thinking about Lucy’s own struggle. By all outward appearances, she is a perfect wife. She’s loving, caring and kind. She works wonderfully with children, she has a great relationship with her parents and brother, and she seems to have her life in order. But… underneath it all, she struggles. She has self-doubt, she feels pain about her past and her broken friendships, she blames herself for so much… and that hurt manifests itself in her preening. She notices me staring at her and looks up, giving me a soft smile. Her eyes are sad, but determined. I know that it’s difficult for her to confront this issue head-on and acknowledge that she needs this help, but I couldn’t be more proud of her for the perseverance she’s showing. I reach across the table and place my hand on hers. She replies by turning her hand upward and enclosing her fingers around mine. For a moment, we simply sit in silence, my expression wordlessly telling her how much her strength means to me. She similarly responds with her eyes, thanking me for remaining by her side through all the struggles. She finally opens her mouth to speak. “... I have to use the bathroom.” “O-oh. Uhh, sure.” My ears redden slightly, suddenly unsure if I misread her expression. She lets out a little giggle as she steps past me, leans over and kisses the top of my head in a gesture of reassurance. As she disappears down the hallway towards our bathroom, I glance at the packet she was filling in. For a moment, I’m unsure if I should peek at it, but… we are married, and we are going through these resources together. I slide the pamphlet around on the table and rotate it so its text faces upright. She’s actually been surprisingly thorough with her answers. No questions are skipped, even though some don’t really apply to her situation. She’s used her relationship with her parents and brother to answer several questions, as well as her relationship with me. My heart flutters a little when I see “Anon” written as the top answer under the question “What do you love most about this life?” I have a nagging suspicion that a more devout Christian would have answered “God” or “Raptor Jesus” first, but I hope He won’t hold this against my wife too harshly. The last question to have been answered so far makes me pause. “Do you feel that there’s anything missing from your life?” Underneath, there are three lines, clearly spaced to allow a long-form paragraph answer if one so chooses. However, Lucy filled in short answers on two of the lines: “My friends” “A baby” The third line remains blank. I reread the question: “Do you feel that there’s anything missing from your life?” … Slowly, a third gear descends into place, matching the rotation of its partners. The apparatus begins to take shape. I slide her pamphlet back across the table and stare at the lined paper upon which I had been taking my own notes. My eyes move across the words as though I am rereading them, but nothing sticks in my brain. Instead, only this concept remains. An idea. A possibility. It’s a long-shot, and I’ve got no clue if this will even work, but… “... I feel like they stole something from me. It’s like they took something away from me that was so important, and now they’re coming back and saying that they’re sorry… but that thing is still gone. I just… can’t figure out what it is.” Maybe… Lucy reenters the room, having swapped out of the pajamas she’d been wearing all day and into some casual wear. She stands on her tip-toes as she stretches her back, her wings flexing behind her and her tail straightening as she does so. She takes a deep breath before looking over to me. “If it’s okay with you, Anon, I was thinking of hitting the store for that toothpaste. I want to keep working through these materials, but I could use a little break.” She places a finger on the bottom of her beak in contemplation. “... I might get myself a candy bar, too. I think I earned it.” I smile at her as I put an arm over the back of my chair. “I’d agree with that. See you in a few minutes?” She returns the smile as she plucks her car keys from the little ceramic bowl by the front entrance and opens the door. “See you in a few minutes! Love you!” “Love you too, sweetie.” She closes the door behind herself, and a few moments later I hear her car’s engine start. I glance at my watch: just past 1:30 PM. I take a slow breath through my nose, returning to my previous train of thought. If I want to try this… I rise from my chair and make my way down the hallway. Arriving once more at the spare bedroom, I make my way in, eyeing the pile of boxes that line the far wall. We don’t have a tremendous amount of junk, but there’s a few stacks of boxes with some unseen items and containers buried underneath and behind. I’ll need to do a bit of sifting to see if what I seek is here. I begin shifting a few boxes and containers around, glancing at their lids and labels as I do so. A few boxes contain some of my items from when I was overseas; mostly knick-knacks and memorabilia from my deployment. Other boxes hold some of Lucy’s belongings, including old clothes, books and other objects transported over from her parents’ place. What used to be her bedroom was transformed into a guest bedroom; Naser’s room is still his, since his only other residence is his college dorm room at this time. As I set more boxes aside, one catches my eye: belongings from my old apartment in Skin Row. Raising an eyebrow, I pop the lid off and peer inside. Most of the items within were very important to me at one point in my life: my old consoles along with several games, a handful of sci-fi books alongside some manga, and… a shoebox. I lift the lid of the shoebox to find a familiar disc-shaped lump of orange-yellow plastic. I gingerly reach in and remove my old “pet”, RAYmba. I smile as I recall the bizarre encounter that led me to obtaining this little fella. Lucy and I were on the hunt for a venue for her band, VVURM DRAMA. We were stopped by a bizarre street peddler with a snake sock puppet on one of his hands and a strangely cryptic way of speaking. The guy ended up cajoling me into buying this little phone screen roomba in exchange for information on where Lucy’s band could play a gig. Sure enough, he pointed us in the right direction and it led to one of the most successful shows VVURM DRAMA ever played. The small cleaning device peers up at me with his large eyes and enormous angry eyebrows, both of which were gifts I bestowed upon him via permanent marker to provide a little more personality. The railgun I also fashioned for him has fallen off, resting in the bottom of the shoebox. His batteries have long since died, so he merely sits in my hand, motionless and dormant. I unconsciously slide two fingers across his topmost surface, wordlessly thanking him for good memories he has given me. I place him gently back into his shoebox and replace its lid before moving on to the next container in the pile. I come across one that’s stuffed full of green jackets that no longer fit me; the big muscles my time in the military gifted me with make squeezing into the lanklet-sized jackets an impossibility now. As I near the bottom of the stack of boxes, I glance around, slightly dejected that I didn’t locate what I was originally searching for. I start reversing the work I did, restacking boxes in roughly their original position, when I stop suddenly. I turn and suspiciously eye the spare bedroom’s closet. I step closer to it and place a hand on its handle, sliding the wooden door sideways to reveal its secrets. There it is. The unmistakable shape lends no mystery to what may reside within. I lift the container, testing its weight to see if it does indeed still hold its treasure; it does. I take a slow breath through my nostrils, still unsure if this plan is one that will work. There’s some risk of it backfiring, but at this point… I have to try. I have to be sure. If nothing else, it will eliminate possibilities and get us closer to a true answer. But… this might be the key. I hurriedly pick the case up and carry it out to my car, popping the trunk and placing it within. I’d like to do something special as I attempt this gambit, and I think I’ve got a good idea of what I can do. I head back inside and take a seat on the couch, mulling over my plan. Samantha gave us an old picnic basket like what you’d see in an old Hanna-Barbarian cartoon with anthropomorphized bears lusting over their contents. The sort of madman who thought anthropomorphizing animals was a good idea obviously had their head in the clouds; this is the real world, damnit. As I continue my scheming, I hear Lucy’s car pull back into the driveway. She enters, holding a small plastic bag and humming a tune to herself. She drops her keys back into their bowl and glances at me on the couch. “Oh, there you are. Here, I got you one, too.” She reaches into the bag and withdraws two candy bars, handing one to me with a big grin. “The checkout clerk gave me a side-eye when she saw I was only buying toothpaste and candy.” I raise an eyebrow. “She knew you’d need the toothpaste after eating this sugary tooth-decay. Maybe she was going to refer you to a nice dentist.” Lucy giggles, dropping the bag containing the toothpaste on the coffee table and plopping down on the couch next to me. She tears the wrapper of her candy bar in half, chomping down on the chocolatey delight. She speaks as she chews. “Dentists have to make their living somehow!” Before I unwrap my own treat, I look over at Lucy. “Hey, I was wondering…” She replies with a muffled affirmation as she chews contentedly. “... This might be out of the blue, but do you think you’d want to go for a picnic with me tomorrow?” She swallows, raising an eyebrow at me. “A picnic? What brought this on?” I shrug. “We have the day off, we have some nice weather left before it gets too cold, and we’ve got plenty of leftovers that we can turn into sandwiches. Plus, I just… wanted to do something nice for you.” She beams a smile. “Anon, you haven’t stopped doing nice things for me since you got off the plane from your deployment. You’re gonna have to be not-nice to me at some point, otherwise I’m gonna really get spoiled.” I shake my head. “Impossible. I can only ever be nice. You signed up for this when you married me.” She glances down sheepishly, her cheeks reddening. “I think I got the better half of that deal.” I lean over and kiss the tip of her snoot. “I disagree.” She looks back up at me with love and brings her mouth closer to mine, but stops suddenly. Her eyes turn playful. “Nuh uh! I’m not sharing my candy with you! You got your own, mister!” I balk. “What, you mean residual chocolate in your mouth?” She nods as she puckers her lips together, greedily guarding the remnants of sugar that cling to her teeth after her first bite of candy. I roll my eyes. “Whatever, you weirdo.” She giggles and tears away another piece of her snack. I follow suit, peeling the wrapper of my own treat away and taking a bite. The moment my teeth make contact with the chocolate and pull it away from the rest of the bar, my pocket begins vibrating. “Huhmphwhat, phone call,” I mumble through a mouthful of candy. I set the bar down on the coffee table and withdraw my cell phone. Lucy eyes me curiously as she takes another bite of her candy bar. I glance at the number… I don’t immediately recognize it, but… it’s familiar, for some reason. Hastily swallowing my mouthful of sugar, I tap the “Accept Call” button and put it on speakerphone. “Uhh, hello?” “Yes, hi! Is this Mr… Moose?” The woman’s butchering of my last name informs me she doesn’t know me very well. “Speaking.” “Hi there! This is Angela calling from the Volcaldera Viability Clinic. Is this a good time?” Lucy’s eyes nearly bulge from their sockets as she gasps, immediately gagging on the hunk of chocolate bar she had partway down her throat. She coughs as she raps her fist against her chest to clear her airway, frantically looking from the phone to me. My eyes are just as wide as I respond. “Yes! Yeah, this is a good time! What can I do for you?!” “Great! I see here that you and your wife Lucy were scheduled to come in for an appointment in about two weeks. I was calling to let you know, we just had an opening clear up for tomorrow morning at 10 AM. Would the two of you be available to come in?”