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Suddenly, the peaceful quiet of their home cracks into pieces. Pulled apart by the rise of their voices.[break][break]
“I’m trying! You just don’t want to hear it!” They bark back, a pitch to their voice that edges on shrill.[break][break]
It’s difficult to grasp. Though Fern wouldn’t call themself blithely trusting, they certainly usually looked that way if they were to be compared to Jayden. But it’s as if that faculty has been switched off in his brain. So willingly he negates everything he has been through. For the silly, childlike hopes of the boy he used to be.[break][break]
And still, he tries to reason with them. That hand, usually a balm of comfort, searingly hot against their face—funny, considering Chien Pao’s imparted gifts.[break][break]
They shake their head and lean away, out of the soft touch of his hand. It physically pains them to do so, but frustration is too rampant under their skin. Electricity still racing like a charged current in their blood. A soft scoff follows as their eyes look away, across the room.[break][break]
“I have seen him in person, and I just don’t buy it. The last thing I want to do is spend more time with him than I have to.”[break][break]
They sigh—the sound short and hard. Decisive.[break][break]
Then Fern peels themself out of bed and stands. “I’m going to make tea.” They don’t offer an invitation as they drift from the room, casting him only a short glance as their hand brushes the door frame. "I hope I'm the one who's wrong about this." Fern doesn't look at him as he says this, and they slip into the hall and the dark of the rest of the house.

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A fight isn’t want they wanted. To upset him isn’t what they wanted. But they have done it anyway. A prepared bed to lie in. It was likely a losing battled from the jump—he has made up his mind, no matter what Fern says or doesn’t say.[break][break]
But if he wanted them to go along with, he’ll be disappointed. No matter how much it pains them to disappoint him in any way, shape, or form.[break][break]
“It’s not about what I want to be true! I would love for it to be true. Don’t you think I want what’s actually good for you? Why wouldn’t I want that?” Something pitiful crawls up their throat as they look at him desperately. Exasperatedly. They just don’t think he is good for Jayden.[break][break]
“No! It’s not you I that I don’t believe, it’s him!” Their outburst pulls them to sit up, pushing themselves back as their hair falls in flyaway strands of static. Their nerves feel electric, unsteady, and they put themselves at a slight distance.[break][break]
But again, it seems predetermined. They can’t win here. To be disbelieving of Dmitri apparently means being disbelieving of Jayden now too. And that doesn’t feel fair.[break][break]
“He’s not good. He’s a fox, not a wolf. But his teeth are just as sharp.”[break][break]
Again, they feel the uncanny creep of similarity, and they feel sick with it.

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Fern wasn’t fully expecting Jayden to jump to his father’s defense. Or at least, not so adamantly as he does now. Their eyes widen a fraction, mouth snapping shut as he insists and explains and justifies the man who Fern would, admittedly, never be swayed about.[break][break]
“A motive that you know of,” they mutter, before their eyes shut and they try to reel their snark back in. Though that doesn’t seem to do much them much good. It feels like suddenly they are the bad guy here.[break][break]
Why is this their fault?[break][break]
“I’m not saying it would be bad,” they insist, frustrated panic creeping into their voice, “but it’s right there in your own question—if.”[break][break]
Their lips press into a think line as frantic eyes search his face. Fern doesn’t want to say they’re desperate, but they feel that sensation. The thread of composure slipping like sand between their fingers. Trying to hold onto something liquid like water.[break][break]
They have never been as steady as they are for jayden cross.[break][break]
And Tapu Koko’s influence has only made their truer, more fickle nature more prevalent.[break][break]
So when the frustration claws at them, it snags them and digs in. “Why won’t you believe me?” It’s so much, being an anchor. The weight is heavy on their shoulders. But what good is that weight if he doesn’t take them seriously?

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He does not want to believe them, they realize.[break][break]

But can Fern really blame him? When he’s been denied something like this sort of relationship and respect and care all of his life? Now that it is handed to him so openly, of course he wishes to welcome it with his arms spread wide. And it breaks Fern’s heart a little bit.[break][break]

Because he has had to wait so long for it. Because it still feels like a sham to them. Because, in this moment, they know that what they give is not quite enough, no matter how much they wish it to be.[break][break]

“People like that…” they trail. Chew on their words slowly and carefully. They don’t want to upset him, or make him cross with them. But it’s not right, is it? [break][break]

Something isn’t right about any of this.[break][break]

“Mischa.. people like that don’t just change on a whim.”[break][break]

Like that, they say. An ugly curl to their emphasis. They don’t breathe his father’s name, but there is no mistaking who they mean.[break][break]

But Jayden persists in his childlike hope. There is something young and bright in him now. Gleaming in the violet of his eyes. A sheen so light that Fern can’t even miss it in the gloomy dark of the room.[break][break]

“It’s different,” they concede reluctantly, eyes shifting away for a moment guiltily. It’s what he wants to hear from them. They know it is. The but hangs there, unsaid as they exhale a slow breath.[break][break]

“But I don’t know if it’s forever, love.”[break][break]

Trust me more, they want to wail at him, and don’t.[break][break]

The conversation feels like it has a fixed end, regardless.

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I… I think I believe it, duck.[break][break]

Call it paranoid, call it intuition.[break][break]

Whatever label is affixed to the feeling, it stirs in their gut regardless–uneasy and distrustful. When they look at Dmitri, Fern sees something sharp and clever. Perhaps they recognize the glimmer, quick and subtle, that betrays a man biding his time.[break][break]

Perhaps they recognize it because they have always been exceptionally adept at playing waiting games themself.[break][break]

It’s a comparison drawn that immediately sours on their tongue. The last thing that Fern wishes is to be anything like the man who has put jayden cross through unimaginable hell. Even a sliver is far too much.[break][break]

But though they repel from the notion, they know that they are not a good person–like anyone else among their ranks. Fern is not about to fool themself into such a thing, and so they navigate the way forward with wary eyes. Surreptitious glances fall on the elder Volkov, and they avoid any opportunity to be in the same space as Alexei.[break][break]

I see you, their pale eyes say silently to his father. I see you and I am waiting for you to make even one misstep.[break][break]

And yet he does not.[break][break]

Time drags out like a long-held breath. They sit on a precipice, waiting to tilt into the freefall. Until the night that Jayden makes the admission, tangled together in the vulnerable quiet of their room. Their haven. To Fern, Dmitri’s name deserves no place there.[break][break]

Their heart flutters, and uneven breath drags into their lungs. They do not want to upset him. He looks happy. Pleased to finally be receiving the acknowledgment and praise from the person he’s always wanted, and never needed it, from.[break][break]

“Oh, duck.” Their voice is no more than a cooing murmur, and their chest is caving in with the kick of their flight reflex. This confession makes it punch harder, makes them want nothing more than to take him by the arm and run. Away from the long shadow Dmitri Volkov casts.[break][break]

It will swallow him otherwise. It will swallow them both.[break][break]

But Fern tries to smile, and it’s a tiny, tepid thing. “Duck, please,” they breathe, fingers smoothing cajolingly through his hair, “be careful. I just…don’t know.” The bitterness on their tongue begs to be spat out in vitriolic words built from nothing but a multitude of stories and memories that earn their disdain.[break][break]

But hope is bright in his eyes, whether he knows he betrays it or not.[break][break]

And Fern aches for him to be happy.[break][break]

“Just promise me. Promise me you won’t dismiss anything strange.” Though, to Fern, every bit of this can be labeled as ‘strange.’ Wrong.[break][break]

He might believe it, but they do not.[break][break]

He might be willing to accept his father for what he gives, but that certainly won’t stop them from skulking behind. Sticking their nose where they believe it belongs.

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The thick of battle speeds time up for Fern rather than slowing it down. They track the movement of their dragapult, waiting for the right moment to hail her back to their side.[break][break]

They keep eyes on the comrades closest to them, eyeing with interest–and perhaps a pang of mild envy, as Zev Harcourt unleashes some of his capabilities. Even with that degree of FOMO, a wily grin cracks across their mouth as they woop and cheer on the beast’s skillset and decisive actions.[break][break]

A distant rumble through the snowy clouds, though, keys them into what they’ve been waiting for. As if they couldn’t already feel the approaching presence of Tapu Koko like a charge in their bones–electrifying connectivity between them.[break][break]

There’s that adrenaline shot—the one they now associate with power and chaos in mixed supply. They look to their side, prepared to announce the incoming arrival, when something odd halts their speech.[break][break]

The seep of frosty white through jayden cross’s hair prompts a furrowed expression to flit across their face, under the mask. They catch mint frost’s worried look, but there isn’t much time to dwell on the unsettling change.[break][break]

They don’t worry with the ice javelin, they let him pick his battle with @remiel, but the following beam that Zev Harcourt projects prompts another howled “YEAHHHHH BOOOOOYEEEE,” from the admin as they cup their hands around their mouth. Yips and howls and jackal sound echo throughout the rightward side until their patron’s arrival deters them.[break][break]

“Took you long enough,” Fern huffs in complaint as their dragapult is recalled and Tapu Koko flits down from the clouds with curious, but cursory glance toward White Kyurem. Allowing themself to be temporarily distracted, they point toward the kyurem’s feet. “I want in on the fun too,” they demand, taking off at higher speed as the island spirit follows with only a degree more reservation.[break][break]

Circling what space they can, Fern lays down a charged up ELECTRIC TERRAIN that barely rises up around the behemoth’s feet, but it’s enough extra voltage to allow Tapu Koko to pull down a bolstered crack of THUNDER over the creature.[break][break]

Fern lets out an elated breath, and then time speeds up again and THEO BECKETT’s voice crackles through the comms, warning them. They should not have left, even if their speediness allows them to move in a matter of seconds that boil down to practically nothing.[break][break]

In a burst of speed, they’re back at jayden cross’s side, pulling their mask up to look at the other admin. The hatred that ripples off of him is palpable in this place, and this time they’re able to meet mint frost’s eyes evenly, unobscured by the mask. Their fingers reach, curling around Jayden’s in an attempt to stay his hand. “Michail,” they murmur, trying to catch his eye much like that first time in the infirmary after he’d first woken up.[break][break]

Their objective is not control as THEO BECKETT demands, because that would be contrary to their internal compass. But they will try to soothe frigid burn in him, instead.

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“Just preemptively announcing your arrival.” Fern trills as jayden cross manifests out of the dark ether his dragapult creates.[break][break]

Used to flying together among the rest of their flock, Cecilia and Astlik synchronize their twin attacks with ease as they’re bolstered by the support of Zev Harcourt’s charizard. Similarly, The Charlatan glances his way, curious to note his unmasked appearance while lacking the presence of any piece of necrozma.[break][break]

It prompts their attention upward next, out of the shadow of kyurem– but Tapu Koko is not visible through the thick of the elements that continues to blast through the Icelands, obscuring any clear look at the skies. Wherever their patron is, it has chosen to not interfere just yet. And for now, Fern makes no attempt to call upon it.[break][break]

There is still perhaps enough time yet to do so.[break][break]

“Fair enough, but you deserve a win!” They quip back to mint frost. Their eyes dart to the rotom (?) recording everything for the beast. “Good work, I’d like to peek at that intel later, if you don’t mind. Maybe we can coordinate something.” Glancing back at Jayden for a moment, they stick out their tongue playfully. “We’ll be sure to give you a good show later to make up for it. Right, duck?”[break][break]

But for now– sticking to the task at hand. Lifting fingers to their mouth, a sharp whistle barely heard through the winds pulls Ceci into a sweeping, upward arc and she repositions herself higher above. Clods of icy snow harden further, blazing with draconic energy as the DRACO METEORS begin to rain down on kyurem.[break][break]

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“Your lucky day, eh?” Fern chirps from beside mint frost. If this startles their friend, they’ll apologize, because they definitely weren’t standing alongside him in the whipping whirl of snow and ice and wind moments before. The only signal of their appearance was the electric crack of their spontaneous teleportation from the edge of the silent icelands to the thick of the action. Static still clings to their hair and clothes from that travel along the currents—even as the blizzard dampens them with the icy slurry.[break][break]

At least half of their face is blocked from frostbite by the return of their canid mask.[break][break]

“jayden cross should be right behind me,” they say as their dragapult floats down, semi-tangible through the buffet of the storm. Despite the situation, the sharp hook of a smile is still on their mouth. “I wanted to see who was faster.” If their eyes had been visible, they would’ve winked. The directive from THEO BECKETT had been clear, so they send Cecilia forward with a sweep of their hand. “How’re you doing?” they ask, turning a look toward Mint. They know he has a vested interest in this, has been working himself to the bone to follow the bread crumbs where he finds them.[break][break]

And if his stream is still running, Fern would be quick to insert themself into the camera scope with a cheeky wave.[break][break]

Meanwhile, their trusted dragapult sails upward with an open maw, heat building in the back of her throat despite the cold. An outpouring of flame in a full FIRE BLAST rips free toward the behemoth.[break][break]

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