Rocky Road 8: Adventuring

[bookblather]

Title: Adventuring
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rocky road 8 (attic), malt (PFAH: Danny: Legs! I've still got legs!), whipped cream (Danny and Michael are ten and eight for most of this), brownie.
Word Count: 5844
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Danny and Michael on two adventures, ten years apart.
Notes: This took two months to write. Ye gods.


On a bright sunny day just after school got out, Danny decided she was going to have an Adventure.

It had to have a capital A, she decided, or else it wasn't a proper Adventure.

She and her brother Michael were upstairs in his room, and they had been playing quietly with Michael's plastic dinosaurs and drawing on his latest cast, until Danny got bored. Their parents were downstairs with visitors, and the children had been ordered strictly to be quiet. They must always be very quiet when their parents had visitors, because the visitors were always Important Men, usually there For Michael's Own Good. Danny didn't think much of them herself, especially not the ones there For Michael's Own Good; they were usually puffed-up men in suits who prodded her brother, nodded wisely and said there was nothing they could do. But it was better to listen to her parents than to get spanked.

Besides, it wasn't a proper Adventure if parents interrupted it-- everyone knew only children could have proper Adventures-- and if she was noisy then they would come upstairs and the whole thing would be spoiled.

She told Michael all of this from her cross-legged seat on his bed, then sat back and waited for a response.

"But I don't want to have an adventure," said Michael, who had just turned eight, and had learned that he didn't have to do as she told him anymore, even though she was a whole two years older and much smarter. Danny had been quite annoyed when he'd figured that out.

It didn't mean she couldn't try to convince him, though. "Don't be stupid," Danny said. "Of course you want to have an adventure. Everybody wants to have an adventure, that's the whole point of adventures."

"I don't like adventures," Michael said, stubbornly. "They're uncomfortable, and you break things, and then Mom and Dad get mad."

Danny crossed her arms and scowled at him. "And I suppose if Peter Pan came here, right now, you'd tell him you didn't want to go to Neverland and fight pirates?"

Michael lost a little of his certainty. "No," he said. "I'd go to Neverland, and I'd stay there and never come back. But I don't want to fight pirates, I want to play with the mermaids and the fairies."

"Fighting pirates is more fun," Danny said, and added magnanimously, "but you can play with mermaids if you want, I guess."

Michael glared at her, but it was rather half-hearted. "Mermaids don't break me," he said. "What if I wanted to go flying?"

Danny considered this, swinging her feet as she did so. "Well, you have to fly to get there," she said. "So you'd have to fly anyway. So you could go flying while you were there. And," she added, persuasively, "you could have your very own fairy. Like Tinkerbell but nicer. She could fix all your bones for you when you break 'em."

"That'd be really neat," Michael agreed, a little wistfully. "Are we going to Neverland on our adventure, then? You and me?"

"Yes," Danny said, deciding right then and there. "But I don't want to go to Peter Pan's Neverland, I want to go to our Neverland." Danny was secretly very sure that she would not like Peter Pan at all, if she was to meet him somehow. Michael probably would, because Michael was a boy and Peter Pan seemed to like boys. But he didn't like girls, and Danny had no use for anyone who didn't like girls. Besides, Peter's Neverland wouldn't be good for Michael, and however much it irritated Danny to be always told to take care of her brother, she didn't mind doing it at all.

Michael got up from his seat on the floor and picked up his favorite toy dinosaur to take with him, then paused. "Danny, where is our Neverland?"

Danny had not thought it through that much; Michael had also figured this out and had developed a very annoying ability to tell when she was bluffing.

She frowned, then said, "The attic," because you had to fly to get to Neverland, and the attic was the highest place in their house. Well, the roof was higher, but she'd definitely get spanked if she took Michael up onto the roof, and anyway she didn't know how to get up there in the first place. "Our Neverland is in the attic."

"Okay," Michael said. "And I think happy thoughts to fly, right?"

Michael was the acknowledged expert on flying, so Danny let him tell it. "That's right."

He sat down again on the spiraling rainbow rug and clutched his dinosaur, then closed his eyes and thought happy thoughts so hard his forehead developed wrinkles just like their father's. Danny watched him-- she couldn't think of any happy thoughts right now-- and waited. If anybody could figure out how to fly, it would be Michael.

After a while, he opened his eyes and gave her a plaintive look. "Danny, it's not working."

"That's okay," Danny told him. She had half-expected this outcome, and had planned for it. "You don't need to fly to get to our Neverland. You only need a stepstool, and," she added, practically, "to do everything I say."

Michael jumped up again, still clutching his dinosaur. "And you know where the stepstool is, right?"

"Yep," Danny said. "But first you have to promise to do everything I say." She eyed her brother closely. Michael was pretty good at getting out of promises.

"I promise!" Michael said, recklessly, and waved his dinosaur to punctuate it. "I promise!"

"Okay," Danny said, and hopped down off the bed, grabbing one of Michael's sweaters off the neatly-folded pile she'd been supposed to put away. "Then let's go to our Neverland."

Michael had on his best slippery socks, and their parents weren't around to make them stop, so Danny pulled him down the hardwood hallway towards the attic trap door and the stepstool. He skidded across the floor, hanging on hard to her hand, and halfway there asked, "Danny? What's in our Neverland?"

Danny wrinkled her nose and thought about it. She thought about it so hard that she stopped pulling Michael down the hallway, and didn't start again until he whined at her and shook her hand. "Ninjas," she said, finally, and resumed pulling. "Lots of ninjas to fight. Or learn from, I guess," she added, when she remembered she was supposed to be a good example.

"And dinosaurs?" Michael asked, hopefully.

"Sure," she said. "Dinosaurs too. Dinosaurs you can ride."

"Neat," Michael said, and spun around on his toes. "Are there pterodactyls? I wanna fly on a pterodactyl."

"Pterodactyls are dinosaurs, right?" Danny asked. "If they're dinosaurs then they're there. There's all kinds of dinosaurs there."

Michael rolled his eyes at Danny's ignorance. "They're not dinosaurs," he said, in his best duh tones. "They fly. Dinosaurs don't fly, they walk on land. And anyway scientists don't think they're reptiles and dinosaurs are all reptiles."

"Okay," Danny said, already bored. Michael spent a lot of time in bed, and most of it he spent reading, but the knowledge he got that way tended to be extremely detailed and not at all to Danny's taste. "Then pterodactyls are there too and you can fly on them. And there's X-wings for me to fly on."

"What's an X-wing?" Michael asked. Their parents had decreed that he was still too young to watch Star Wars. Danny felt briefly quite smug about her superior knowledge, and then explained.

"Oh," Michael said. He wrinkled his nose, and then said, "I'd rather have a pterodactyl."

"Well," Danny said, "there are pterodactyls for you and X-wings for me, and no stupid grownups anywhere around, except the ninjas, and you can kill them. Stay here, I have to get the stepstool."

She left Michael standing underneath the trap door and went to the closet where her parents kept the stepstool. It was big and clumsy, a white metal contraption that unfolded when you least wanted it to and made horrible dragging noises when you tried to take it anywhere. But Danny knew that if you threw a sweater on the floor and manuvered the stepstool onto it, you could drag it anywhere and it wouldn't make a sound. The tricky part was getting the sweater out from under it again without making noise, but Michael would help with that.

"Danny?" Michael had moved, and was standing right behind her at the closet door, blocking her light.

"What?" she asked, carefully walking the stepstool onto the sweater.

"Is Captain Hook in our Neverland?"

Danny shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't like Captain Hook, he's mean and he hits kids." And he was scary, too, but Danny would never, ever admit to being scared, and she certainly wouldn't admit to it in front of her little brother-- her parents had never said she had to be brave for Michael, but she knew she had to be all the more for not being told. 'Mean' would do.

"You could beat him," Michael said, politely.

"Thanks," Danny said, "but he's still not in our Neverland. Move, you're in the way."

Michael moved, and watched as she carefully slid the stepstool over to the trap door. "I'm glad," he said. "I don't like Captain Hook either. Or pirates. I don't like pirates at all."

Danny got the stepstool positioned to her liking, then looked at Michael. "Come pull the sweater out," she ordered. "You like ninjas, though, right?"

"Yeah," he said, and came over obediently. "I like ninjas. Ninjas only kill you, they don't steal your stuff afterwards."

This dislike of Michael's was probably Danny's fault, although she would never admit it. When they were much smaller, back before Michael took his irrational aversion to pirates, Danny would slay him (because she was older, she always got to kill Michael instead of the other way around, or at least when their parents weren't around to insist that Michael should do everything) and then steal all his toys and refuse to give them back until he ransomed them with candy. She was older now, practically grown-up (and sick of getting spanked for it), so she didn't take Michael's toys anymore.

Or at least she gave them back when she did take them.

Anyway, she'd probably made Michael hate pirates forever. Which was a shame, because Danny rather liked pirates. But when you shared a Neverland you had to compromise sometimes.

"No pirates," she said. "Only ninjas. And fairies, and dinosaurs, and X-wing fighters. And ponies."

"Pink ponies?" Michael asked, with a suspicious giggle in his voice.

Danny, who had just climbed up on the stepstool, used her unaccustomed height to glare down at her brother, very effectively. "No, they are not pink," she said, sharply, "because ponies are not pink in real life, they are brown and black and white. And mine have razor-sharp teeth and they shoot lasers from their eyes." She reached up and grabbed for the swinging string tied to the trap door handle, but missed.

Michael thought about this for a moment. "Can I have one of those ponies too?"

"Sure." Danny gave another swipe at the string on the trap door's handle, and missed again.

"Neat," Michael said. "Mine has wings."

Danny rolled her eyes-- fortunately Michael could not see it. "You already have a pterodactyl! What do you need a pony with wings for?"

"I just do," Michael said. "Do you need a stick?"

Danny stopped swiping at the string and looked down at Michael. "Why would I need a stick?"

"You know, to grab onto the handle with," Michael said. "I have a grabby stick. Aunt Mary gave it to me. The kind that people pick up things with when they don't want to bend over. She said she didn't want me bending over too much and then Mom yelled at her. Why did Mom yell at her?"

"It's 'cause they think you're going to break yourself," Danny said. She really had no idea, but she was older, and older siblings were supposed to know everything, so she pretended she did and hoped that Michael didn't figure it out too soon. Besides, sooner or later everything about Michael came back to him breaking himself and Danny getting in trouble for it. "And no, I don't need a grabby stick, I just need to--- got it!" She tugged hard on the string, and ducked as the trap door fell open, narrowly missing her head.

It made a loud rattling sound as it bounced into place. Danny flinched, and listened hard for a moment, but there were no stomping noises on the stairs or shouts from the living room. Her parents hadn't heard-- they were still safe.

Michael looked up into the attic with big eyes, and looked at Danny. "Do I have to go up there?"

"Don't be such a baby," Danny said, and grabbed onto the lowest rung of the ladder built into the trap door. "You've been up here before."

"Yeah," Michael said, "but it's dark. And it was a long time ago that I was up there, and Daddy was there to catch me if I fell." His lip trembled. "I don't want to hurt myself again, Danny."

"Baby," Danny said again, and stepped up. The trapdoor bounced a little under her and she held on for a moment. "You're not going to hurt yourself because you're not going to fall. You said you'd do everything I said, and I say you can't fall. Now think happy thoughts and get up here."

If she was telling the truth, she was a little scared herself. But she couldn't act scared in front of Michael. She was older and she was supposed to Set a Good Example, and being scared was not Setting a Good Example. Besides, she'd never live it down. So she didn't hesitate, but climbed up into the dark attic and went fumbling around, looking for the electric switch in the light from the trap door.

Michael came up in a scrambling, rattling rush, and pulled the trap door shut behind him just as Danny found the switch and flipped it on.

There was only one light in their attic, an overhead bulb that somebody a long time ago had covered with a big green lampshade like a Chinese lantern. It made the whole place look green and growing, making all the stacked cardboard boxes look like trees and the bare wood floor look like grass, if you squinted your eyes nearly shut and looked through your eyelashes and imagined a little bit.

Michael grinned, and threw his arms wide, flinging his toy dinosaur away and sideways. Danny ducked. "It's Neverland!" he declared. "We got here!"

"You thought happy thoughts on the ladder up, right?" Danny asked. She was only checking, but Michael nodded vigorously.

"I did," he said. "I thought about ponies with wings and my pterodactyl-- I'm calling him Steve, Danny-- and ninjas not stealing my stuff."

"Good," Danny said, but Michael wasn't finished.

"... and no parents and no homework and Christmas and candy and you," he said. "So now I can fly!" He flung his arms wide again and ran in a tight circle aorund the trap door, making whooshing noises and flapping his arms hard. "Go, Steve, go!"

Danny grinned at him-- someday Michael would decide if he could fly on his own, or if he needed a pterodactyl to do it, but that day was clearly not today. She turned away from him and looked into the greeny shadows between the towers of cardboard boxes, where ninjas and dinosaurs and ponies with wings waited.

"All right, Michael," she said. "Let's have an Adventure."

--

The brave explorer stalked the mythical were-rabbit through the vast and misty jungles, tiptoing ever closer to her prey. It hopped about through its green home, blithely unaware of the danger that moved behind it.

"Wait a minute, Danny, I don't wanna be a were-rabbit. Rabbits are stupid and scaredy-cats."

"I told you," Danny said, "I could only find the bunny ears. Now shut up and hop."

"If I make tiger ears," Michael asked, hopefully, "can I be a were-tiger instead?"

"Yes," Danny said. "But there's no time to make them now. So hop."

"I wanna be a tiger," Michael muttered, mutinously, and proceeded to prowl instead of hop. Danny decided to pick her battles and let it go.

The were-rabbit ("Tiger!" "Right, sorry.") adjusted its drooping ears, then sniffled about the undergrowth, looking for a tasty treat. The brave explorer carefully unslung her slingshot and lined it up on the were ("Tiger!" "I know, Michael, I was just about to say it!") the were-tiger. Her hands shook with nervousness-- if she missed this shot, the fearsome beast would surely turn on her and rend her with its fearsome teeth!

"You said fearsome twice," Michael objected.

"Shut up," Danny hissed through her teeth. "I'm trying to miss hitting you so you can rend me."

Michael brightened up considerably at the prospect of a new game. "You promise I can rend you? What's rend mean?"

"It means rip apart," Danny said. "And yes, I promise, but only if you don't break anything or say anything for at least another minute." After all, it wasn't a proper Adventure unless somebody got horribly killed, and Danny wasn't too attached to the explorer. She seemd a bit stupid.

Michael hushed obediently, but bounced up and down on the spot, gleeful anticipation written all over him.

The brave explorer aimed... took a deep breath... and fired!

Oh no! She missed! The fearsome were-tiger turned and launched itself on her with savage growls and roars!

"Not so loud, Michael, Mom and Dad will hear!"

The explorer shrieked with agony, but it was too late! She was helpless beneath the fierce onslaught!

"Danny!" Michael sat back and glared at her. "No fair getting mad at me if you get us caught."

"Fine."

The were-tiger ripped out the brave explorer's throat and she could no longer scream, or move or anything, because she was dead and her blood was all over the ground.

"No!" Michael sat back again, looking extermely unhappy. "No dead, Danny. I don't want the brave explorer to die."

Danny, exasperated, sat up. "That's what rended people do, Michael, they die. Anyway, it's not a proper Adventure unless somebody dies."

"Nobody died in Peter Pan," Michael pointed out.

"They did so," Danny said, crossing her arms. "Hook shot a pirate, remember? He fell off the rigging and made a splash, and then the crocodile probably ate him."

"Oh, well, he was just a pirate," Michael said. "Nobody cares about pirates. All the important people lived. "

Danny harrumphed, a sound more usually associated with the elderly and grumpy men who came to see her brother than with a ten-year-old girl. But then Michael often produced such exasperated noises. "Well, maybe the explorer was a pirate."

"No, she isn't," Michael said, stubbornly. "She's a nice person, and anyway there aren't any pirates in our Neverland. You promised."

Which she actually had, for a change. "You're right," she said. "No pirates. But it's a fierce and fearsome were-tiger, Michael. He has to kill the brave explorer. That's what fierce and fearsome were-tigers do."

Michael wrinkled his nose, a sure Sierbenski family sign of displeasure. "Fierce and fearsome were-tigers can be nice! Maybe he's only fearsome to ninjas. Maybe the were-tiger only rends the brave explorer a little before he knows she's not a ninja, and then he's sorry and wants to be friends, and the brave explorer and the were-tiger can be best friends and fight ninjas."

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't know. It doesn't sound like a proper Adventure."

"Yeah, well," Michael said, "it's our Neverland, isn't it? So a proper Adventure can be anything we want it to be. And I don't want anybody to die."

Danny heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine," she said. "The brave explorer doesn't have to die."

"Yay!" Michael said, and then, "Let me tell it! Let me tell it!"

This was not much of a concession to make, since it wasn't her story anyway. Danny yielded the floor.

The were-tiger pounced on the brave explorer, and rended her a little bit before he saw her... her... ("Danny, what do explorers have?" "I don't know, telescopes and microscopes?") her scopes and realized she was a brave explorer and not the mean nasty ninja he thought she was. Then the were-tiger was very sorry that he'd gotten her hurt, and he said so in were-tiger talk, which the brave explorer knew because all explorers learned it in Explorer School, so she understood how sorry he was and forgave him. Then the were-tiger gave her candy to make up for it, and they went away into the jungle, away from the mean, nasty ninjas who were following them, and the ninjas never found them again. And the were-tiger and the brave explorer were best friends forever after and they never had to worry about anything ever again, because everything was all right now and they lived happily ever after.

The End.

--

Michael stopped abruptly in the middle of narrating a particularly promising sword fight against a ferocious cardboard box and frowned, tilting his head downwards. "Danny? Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything," Danny said. "Come on, Michael, you've almost got it to submit."

"I heard something," Michael insisted. "We've been up here a while, Danny. Maybe they're done and looking for me." He didn't say 'us,' because they both knew their parents didn't go looking for Danny unless she was in trouble. Which she was about to be, if they really were finished downstairs. "We should go."

"You're right," Danny said, reluctantly. "Okay. I'll go open the trapdoor. But you can probably finish your swordfight if you wanna."

Michael shook his head, and sat down where he was. "I wasn't gonna win anyway," he said, his voice turning gloomy. "You can't really kill a cardboard box."

"You can in Neverland," Danny said, but without any real conviction. Neverland was gone; they'd landed in the real world with a thump, and nothing she said would make it go away again.

She unlatched the trapdoor and eased it open, holding very hard to the handle. On the off-chance that their parents hadn't actually come upstairs yet (or had somehow managed to miss the ladder in the middle of the hallway), she didn't want to give away where she and Michael had been all afternoon. That would mean a spanking for sure, and maybe no dinner, and Danny really didn't want to deal with that today. Not after they'd had so much fun. She could deal with it tomorrow, but not today.

Just let us go on pretending, she prayed, to anyone who might be listening. Not God, as such, but Somebody. Just let us go on pretending just a little while longer...

"Daniella Juliette!"

Her mother's shrieky voice raked against her ears. Danny winced and dropped the trapdoor, which dropped open with a clatter and knocked the ladder down in an even louder cacaphony of falling metal. Her mother jumped back away from the mess, then put her hands on her hips and glared up at Danny. "Just what do you think you're doing up there, young lady?"

"Playing," Danny said, sullenly. Across from her, Michael's mouth had fallen open into a silent 'o' of horror.

"Come down from there this instant," her mother said, for the moment ignoring the fact that Danny couldn't, or at least not without risking a broken ankle. "That attic is dangerous, and you know it. What possessed you to risk your neck like that?"

She wasn't really angry yet. Danny knew the real anger wouldn't come until her mother realized that Michael was up here, too. "Like you care about my neck," she muttered, quietly.

Apparently not quietly enough. "That's quite enough out of you, young lady," her mother snapped, and set the ladder up again. "Get down."

Reluctantly, Danny began to climb down, and winced again when her mother changed the subject to the very last thing Danny wanted to talk about. "That's very unsociable of you, you know, to climb up there when Michael can't. Where has your brother been playing? In his room, I suppose."

Danny waited until she got to the floor before she said it. She wasn't stupid, after all, and she knew this was going to start a storm, but she had to say it anyway and it was better if she said it right out, because then she'd get in trouble and not Michael. So she waited until she had both feet firmly on the floor before lifting her chin and saying, very clearly, "It's not unsociable of me. Michael and I were playing together."

Her mother looked at her blankly. "What? You mean before you went into the attic?"

She almost chickened out then. Maybe if she said that Michael wasn't up there then her parents would think that he'd gone up himself and spank him instead of her-- but no. She was Michael's big sister, and she had to protect him. That was what they were always telling her and it was the truth, she knew it was; it just wasn't the truth that they thought it was. Anyway, she didn't chicken out.

Instead she lifted her chin just a little bit more. "No, I mean in the attic," she said, deliberately.

There was a silent, frozen moment, and then her mother slapped her.

Not very hard. It didn't even hurt very much-- Danny had done worse things to herself in the course of that afternoon. But it stung her cheek all the same, and she fell back, more from surprise than anything else.

"Michael Alan Sierbenski!" her mother hollered, at the ceiling. Michael's white face appeared in the trapdoor opening. "You come down here right this minute! No, wait--" she added, as Michael moved to obey her. "Stay there, don't you move a muscle. Sit down away from the trapdoor and wait until your father comes to get you." She seized Danny's arm, in a grip hard as iron. "Daniella, what were you thinking? He could have been seriously hurt! Frank! Frank, come and get Michael down from the attic!"

Danny's father poked his head out of the computer room. "He was where?" he said, and then, wearily, "Can't you get him yourself?"

Danny's mother glared. "No," she said, almost growled. "I'm not strong enough to carry him down. You need to go and get him, and I--" she shook Danny's arm, "--will deal with Daniella."

Danny's father rolled his eyes, but went to the ladder. And Danny's mother dragged her into her bedroom for the inevitable spanking.

--

Late that night, Danny woke up and realized she was being poked.

"Danny!" Michael hissed, and poked her again. "Danny, wake up!"

She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. "Michael? What's wrong?"

Now that she was awake and unlikely to make any sudden, arm-breaking movements, Michael climbed up on her bed and sat cross-legged, hugging his teddy bear. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he said, eyes huge in his face. "I didn't mean for you to get spanked. Or miss dinner."

"It's not your fault," Danny said, and tried not to get mad at their parents. There wasn't any point to it. She couldn't fight them yet, not properly. "It was my idea. And we had fun, didn't we?"

Michael nodded, but his face was still sad. "We did have fun," he said, wistfully. "I liked the part about the brave explorer and the ferocious were-tiger the best."

"Me too," Danny said, and surprised herself by believing it. "Your ending was better," she added, after a moment. "You were right. The were-tiger and the explorer should be best friends, for ever and ever."

"Just like we will be?" Michael asked, anxiously. "And someday we'll go away and explore the world ourselves? Both of us, right, with no pirates or ninjas or anything bad, just us."

Danny closed her eyes against a sudden surge of feeling as she figured out what Michael was really asking. "Yes," she said. "We'll go away from here together. You and me. I won't leave you behind."

"Pinky-swear?" Michael asked, and held up his pinky without waiting for confirmation.

Danny hooked her pinky into her little brother's and squeezed, gently. "I promise. You and me together."

"Good," Michael said. He leaned forward and gave her an awkward hug, complicated by his cast, then slid carefully off the bed and headed for the door. Halfway there, he said, "Oh!" and turned around to offer her a slightly squashed apple. "I sneaked this for you."

She blinked, surprised and pleased, and took it. "Thanks. How'd you get it?"

"I told Mom I get hungry at night and she let me take it upstairs," Michael said, sounding rather proud of himself. "If you throw the core in the bathroom trash she won't know any better."

"That was really smart," Danny said, as admiringly as she could manage while her stomach, provoked by the smell of fresh fruit, demanded all her attention. "Thanks, Michael."

"You're welcome," Michael said. "Together, remember. 'Night, Danny."

Together. She blew him a goodnight kiss and watched him out the door, then bit into the apple and savored the crisp, only-slightly-bruised taste that burst across her tongue. How could she forget?

--

The early morning air was as crisp and fresh as that long-ago apple. It smelled bright, Danny thought, and wondered how much of that was because of what they were doing. She wouldn't ordinarily think their dingy little concrete bus depot, full of gaseous fumes and depressed-looking people, smelled bright.

Not that it mattered. They were doing this. They were really doing this. It was going to work.

"You're sure Aunt Jennifer's going to let you in?" she asked Michael, for the millionth time. "I don't know if I can help at all once I'm enlisted."

Michael shrugged. "If she doesn't, who cares? I made a lot of money yesterday. If she doesn't let me in then I can stay in a hostel for a while while I figure out what I'm going to do. Don't worry about me, Danny. Worry about you."

She squinted at him. "The hell do you mean by that?"

"I just don't know about your plan." He wrinkled his nose. "I mean, the Navy and all. What if they decide that you need parental permission or something?"

Danny rolled her eyes. "Michael, I did check all of this out. They don't require parental permission after you turn eighteen. That was the whole point of waiting this long, remember? Once I'm in, I'm in and they can't do shit."

"Okay," Michael said, doubtfully. "Call me when you're sure you're okay, right? I'll be at Aunt Jennifer's. Or she'll have a phone number for me. We'll make it work. Just call me so I know." He reached out and gave her one of his gentle, awkward hugs. "It'd suck bigtime if I got away and you didn't."

"Don't worry," Danny said, and patted his back. "I'm getting away. We both are. We're legal adults and they can't stop us, and we're both going to be okay."

That last she wasn't sure about, at least not as far as she went, but she wasn't about to tell Michael that. Better not to worry him. He was taking the bigger risk, anyway-- she'd already talked to the recruiter a little, and she knew she was eligible. He was just jumping off into the vast unknown, with little more than birthday money and a half-remembered promise from their aunt. God.

Danny had a sudden impulse to go with him, just to be sure he'd be okay. She could enlist in Chicago as easily as she could enlist here. Easier, even, since the recruiter would have no way of contacting her parents before she did. She could protect him like she'd always done, keep him safe...

...like their parents had thought they were doing. She went cold. Maybe not.

"We are," Michael said, oblivious to her thoughts. "We're going to be fine."

"I'm the brave explorer," Danny said, half-asking.

Michael picked it up with reassuring speed. "And I'm the fierce were-tiger, and I'll rend anybody who gets in my way." He bared his teeth at her, and she laughed. "Danny, I got to go or I'm going to miss my bus. Don't get killed, okay?"

"I won't," Danny said. "As long as you don't break yourself."

He was nodding, and picking up his bag and moving towards the bus and throwing it on the pile with the rest of the luggage, climbing up the bus stairs, settling himself in his seat. Danny, watching his silhouette move against the bus's windows, felt suddenly, intensely alone.

Then Michael opened the bus window next to his seat and leaned out of it to holler, "Hey, Danny! I love you, okay! Call me!"

"I will!" she shouted back, and waved, biting back tears. He'd be okay. "I'll call! I love you!"

She waved until she could no longer see the bus, until the red glare of its taillights faded into the indistinct blur of streetlights and ambient traffic. That was Michael, then; safely gone, off to who knew where on who knew what adventure. He had promised to write her, once she had an address. He had better, or she was going to track him down and cuss him out just on principle.

He'd write. Of course he would. They wouldn't lose each other, not after everything.

Danny shrugged on her backpack then and headed in the other direction, towards the Navy recruiter's office. It wouldn't open for a while yet-- she seriously doubted even Navy recruiters were so gung-ho as to get up at five-thirty in the morning-- but she could camp out in front of it for a while. Tell any overly curious passersby or police that she was waiting to join up. It happened to be the truth. Besides, she was a grown-up now. They couldn't stop her from having any adventure she wanted.

From where she stood, in the hazy predawn glow mixing with the bright neon and floruescent radience that never dimmed, the city looked like some vast construction out of a science-fiction movie; buildings and cars and roads all scrolling out across the landscape, dimly lit, barely seen. If she squinted her eyes and tilted her head, she could just make out the green-lit shadows of the light in their attic, and the looming forms of cardboard boxes, and Michael with his bunny ears, growling and swiping at invisible ninjas while a pterodactyl named Steve wheeled above.

"All right, Michael," she whispered, and hitched her backpack up a little higher. "Let's have our adventure."