Dream Ending

“Her shattered cries are said to echo in those hallways long after her passing. The end.”

Theo slammed the dusty book shut. Or at least, he would if he had a book and didn’t have to make this up by himself. So he had to clap his hands together like they were big fat tomes.

Fen was wearing a sweater way too big for his arms, because apparently, he didn’t look enough like a puppy already. Now his head was cocking puppy-style too.

“That’s it?” He whimpered. “She ends up all alone?”

“Well,” Theo pretended to toss the book over his shoulder (he imagined it hitting a passing grown-up, which made him snicker) “The trope is called final girl for a reason.”

“You are banned from telling anymore hackers!” A fuzzy sleeve pointed at him.

“Slashers.” Theo smirked. “And this is great stuff for ten-year-olds.”

“Is not!” Fen waddled over to Theo, choosing now to take his daily hug. Fuzz, warmth, strawberries and the slightest itchiness enveloped Theo as his little brother tucked himself in. “I’m telling the story next time.”

“Whatever you say, little man.” Theo laid down, pulling bits of boxes closer around them. Tonight wasn’t especially cold, but it was still good to stay secure. “That’s new.” He said. “Are you going to bed pouting? Unlike you.”

It was getting too dark to see exactly what face Fen was making. He didn’t move his head up to look at Theo. “Just didn’t like the ending.”

Theo sighed, cold air and strawberries tingling his tongue as he let the little dreamer lay on top of him. “You never do.”

It was rare for them to sleep on a roof. Too much risk that grown-ups would hear. This spot was an exception, and although it was only a few feet above the ground, waking up into the sun-kissed skies made Theo feel the faintest bit closer to the stars. He groaned to himself. Sometimes he really did sound like Fen. Even if he couldn’t change his brother, he had to at least prepare him for the world. The real world, not the embarrassing thing in his made-up stories. Honestly, he wondered how Fen could tell some of those with a straight face.

He'd thought his own life would have taught him that. Fen had spent the first seven years of his life in an orphanage run by stupid grown-ups and when it got shut down, nobody came for him. Nobody even tried. Not the grown-ups who worked there, not any of his make-believe friends. But instead of some shivering, wailing nobody, he’d run into a boy so happy, Theo had thought he was being fattened by grown-ups back home.

He hadn’t got it. Somebody who cared needed to make sure he did. What would happen if Theo couldn’t take care of him anymore?

“Theo?”

Theo nearly jumped. Fen’s boots scraping the crusted, icy roof had barely made themselves heard; he’d been so lost in thought. His sleeved hands were fumbling together in that “please don’t be mad at me” way and that was playing dirty – like Theo would ever get angry at him.

“I wanna tell my story now.”

“Go ahead. What’s it this time?”

“I...rewrote yours?”

“What?!” Now he was up, on his feet, ready to tear into Fen for plagiarism. Instead, he slipped and fell on his rear. “OW! Stupid ice!”

“Are you okay?”

“No! You can’t just steal my story!”

“I wasn’t stealing!” Fen cried. “I...it’s a what if! Like...what if it happened differently?”

Theo snorted, rubbing the point of impact. “What, like a happy ending?”

“Maybe.” That infernally cute blush on Fen’s would not get the better of Theo today. “I promise you it’ll make sense.”

“Let me guess, angels swoop in and...” Theo laughed, a real winded one. “Everyone lives?”

“Half-right.”

It was going to be a long story.

Actually, it wasn’t long. It was only slightly shorter than Theo’s original story, and he couldn’t help but be impressed. There were a whopping five victims in that story. Five. And not only did Fen rewrite things so that all of them could live “and eat strawberries together,” he did so in a way that made...sense? Theo was trying, he really was, but every solution Fen had come up with in his “what if” could actually have happened according to the rules Theo had laid out when telling the story.

The bookworm could’ve used how familiar he was with libraries to evade the killer. The motorbike man could’ve used his brief signal to call the police if he wasn’t so obsessed with handling things alone. The waitress could’ve snuck in a pill to put the killer to sleep. The soldier could have insisted on taking the lead and making everyone stick together – she was military, after all. Those kinds of grown-ups were invincible. And the final girl, well, she was already a survivor.

“What do you think? Isn’t that just...nicer?” Fen leaned in, eyes sparkling.

It wasn’t nicer. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t what Fen needed. But it did make sense, and Theo had to admit it. “It’s smart, I’ll give it that. Didn’t realize I’d set myself up like that.”

Puppy-head-cock again. “What do you mean?”

Theo shrugged. “It was supposed to be Fen-proof. Like, impossible for a happy ending to be real.”

“A happy ending is never impossible, Theo!” Fen giggled.

“Oh, really?” Theo grinned, for those very words had given him an idea. “What about all my other stories you hated? Think you can make happy endings outta those, too?”

Fen gasped, the yellow shine in his eyes sparking in crackling explosions. “You’ll let me do that?!”

He ignored the pang of...something that came with knowing Fen hated everything he’d spent hours thinking over before sharing, and laughed. “Yep. And if you hit a block on just one, you gotta admit I’m smarter than you.”

“Challenge accepted!”

“Aren’t you gonna set a punishment for me if I lose?”

“Why’d I do that when I can ask for more hugs?”

Of course. Of course that was the only thing on Fen’s agenda.

“So, Theo...” Fen blushed. “How did your last story go again?”

The world was bigger from up here, yet here Fen was, making it shrink to just the two of them. Then letting it grow from there, into universes that had no shape, no sound, no taste, besides the words that came out of Fen’s mouth. He had listened to Fen’s stories before, but never with this much precision, this much close looking, for anything that he could point out. No, he wouldn’t do that. No, that couldn’t have happened.

Had Fen always been this passionate about remaking endings? No, this spark had always been in him. Theo simply hadn’t recognized it. He felt a little bad for that, but his mind could only focus on a few things at once. Besides, letting Fen do the work was ingenious. It was the best way to teach him about the real, ugly world. Sooner or later, he would stumble across a situation he had no hope of the characters escaping. A villain they had no hope of thwarting or persuading. And when he finally gave up, Theo would be there to wrap an arm around him and gently tell him that is what they’d have to face one day. In a way, they already had faced it. The Crimson Knight. To this day, neither of them had been brave enough to utter its name, now that they’d seen it in the burning flesh.

The Book of Fish ended with the fisherman swallowed by the fish. He had no friends, no family, none who would come to his rescue. Besides, even if he survived, what would be the point? He was a grown-up, after all. They never learnt anything. But Fen, without stumbling a single word, waved a rescuer into the story. A whale. And how? The fisherman released those he had caught and said he was sorry for ever hunting them.

“Isn’t it a chance?” Theo tried arguing. “You don’t know for certain that a whale would return the favour.”

“I didn’t know for certain I’d find a brother one day.” Fen smiled.

Theo was beginning to despair of him ever being able to control that stupid blush when it came. All he could do was turn hastily away. “Go on.” He grumbled.

The Shatterer ended with the wanderer stuck inside the Shatterer forever, unable to even scream as he spent the rest of eternity fused to its jagged hide. The Shatterer was beyond reason and impossible to destroy. Fen, unfairly, found a way to twist things anyway. Owing to one little detail he had way too much fun pestering Theo into admitting he had in fact mentioned it the first time he told the story. The Shatterer was driven mad because grown-ups had stabbed a crystal inside its heart and it couldn’t get it out. The wanderer gave up what he chased after, a shard of the Shatterer to sell to feed himself, and with the right tools, removed the crystal himself. The Shatterer was now the Befriender, and nothing Theo did could make Fen change that ridiculous name.

The Road didn’t kill anybody, just left them stuck in the road for eternity. It was Theo’s favourite. To him, it was the truest. Fen couldn’t wax his way out of it. There was no reason the road existed. No explanation Theo gave for the entity that made it. No possible means for the characters to communicate with it. Nothing.

And sure enough, he couldn’t. Fen sat there, munching on a strawberry in severe contemplation for what felt like hours. It was almost funny, seeing his expression so stoney. Theo leaned back in his seat, savouring the moment as best he could. There wasn’t much to savour, but this was a victory, right? He was supposed to be happy, even if it was his brother.

Finally, Fen turned to Theo with a face not filled with resignation, but with a new and infuriating understanding.

“Theo, do you think we’re in the road?”

He’d assumed Fen would never guess that. Honestly, it wasn’t something Theo had considered himself until he’d finished telling it for the first time. It scared him then; how much it had seeped into his bones that it took shape in his own words without him wanting them to.

“It’s about four people.” He was telling the truth and it still came out as such a bad lie. “Not two.”

“Close enough.” No accusation in his voice or eyes. Just gentle concern, the last thing Theo ever wanted from him. When would this idiot understand that Theo was the big brother?

He sighed, cold hands running through his mess of hair. “What do you want me to say, Fen? Yes, the whole thing’s a big metaphor for us. So, this is how you make a happy ending, right? You get the storyteller to change his story.”

Fen grew quiet. For a moment, Theo was worried he’d been too angry-sounding, but then he spoke up again, softer this time. “Theo...do you like it when I change your stories?”

How was he supposed to answer that without kicking off a whole argument? About how hopeful and hopeless it all was? He thought, long and hard, like Fen had done, then realised something. He could share just a part of the truth.

“It...kind of hurts.” He said, and to his amazement, it tasted sweet and relieving, saying it out loud. “I know my stories are downers. I know they make you sad. But I practice all the time when I’m about to tell you one. I think I see you laugh or smile at some parts. Sometimes I thought you liked even the scary stuff, with how close you got to me and purr at some parts. So, knowing you just...hate them all, it’s...”

“No! No, no, Theo!” Fen was on him before he could say a word more. Fuzz, warmth, strawberries and most of all squeezing took up his senses, and it was a bit of a struggle to breathe.

“Fen, seriously-”

His little brother pulled back just an inch, cupped his sleeved hands over Theo’s face, getting bits of juice and snowflakes on the cheeks. Theo didn’t care. He didn’t need nightlights when he had Fen’s eyes.

“Theo, I love your stories. I love them. I love how into it you get, I love how you let me near you when you tell them, I love your imagination!”

That cursed blush again. “You think my imagination’s...Fen, you know it’s a sick and twisted thing.”

“Duh! That’s why I like it! I could never be as bold as you! Everything you make, it scares me, but it makes me think harder about my own stories! Theo, I’m...” Damn it all, Fen was starting to cry. “I’m so sorry I ever made you think I hated them. I swear, I don’t, I-”

Nope. It was Theo’s turn to do the squeezing, giving Fen’s bonfire hair a strong ruffle along with it. “No crying during stories.” He murmured. “New rule.”

“Stop...” Fen giggled weakly.

“Why?”

“Not fair...you’re not being fair when you tickle me...”

“Cuddlebug.” Theo grinned, continuing to tap his fingers against Fen’s squirming side. “You know you love it.” And Fen did. Not as much as Theo loved his brother’s laugh, though.

With a thoroughly cheered up Fen, all was right with the world. Except for one thing still on Theo’s mind. The competition was long forgotten now; all that mattered was talking.

“Why do you want all my stories to end happily, though?” He asked gently.

Fen went into his deep-thinking face again, and this time he was quick to come up with an answer. “I have this...need, I think. Stories are our thing. Our special thing nobody can take away. And when it’s that special, I want us to both be happy doing it.”

That...made no sense. “I have a great time, Fen.” Theo said.

“You don’t...look like you do.” Fen murmured, his yellow eyes soft, tender, and soothing. Damn it, he would get lost in those things if he stared too long. Especially because Fen was right.

His stories weren’t crowd-pleasers. “Pleasing” was the last thing that came to mind when crafting one. Teaching Fen about the real world was a thankless, joyless job. But so what if it was joyless? So what if he’d been failing to make the smile reach his eyes every time he wrapped up some sad, mournful ending?

“Guess the shadows get to me too, who knew?” He sighed with a shrug, giving a smile that wasn’t real, but wasn’t trying to be big enough for its fakeness to be obvious. “Besides, don’t I smile at your own stories?”

“You never look at me when I reach the ending.” Fen’s head was as low as his voice.

Nuts. That was true, too. He’d always been staring up at the stars, or whatever way was opposite where Fen was sitting. He was listening, just not seeing. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide his reaction. He didn’t want to know his reaction at all. He wouldn’t believe it entirely unless he was looking into those eyes, seeing that small, frail, hopeful face that was spewing thousands of words like a song into the night. He couldn’t believe that because he’d never be Fen. Because to be Fen and hurt again would shatter him.

“Maybe I’m a big baby.” He grumbled, truthfully. “Maybe I’m scared to dream the way you do.”

“Theo?”

Fen’s voice was cracking again, and this was so unfair, couldn’t he just stop talking and leave it be? He turned to him and fell into twin pools of gold, pools that lost a couple droplets but stayed perfectly still above the smile that held them.

“I didn’t just rewrite them because I wanted a happy ending.” He said. “I wanted to see you smile. Because Theo, I know it’s scary for you, but you deserve to smile. You deserve so many things. You feed us. You keep us warm. You keep us safe. You teach me. And if...” He sniffled, his smile wobbling as he pointed to himself. “If I could make you smile, that’d make me happy.”

Theo took a deep breath. Several. It was Fen’s fault – he had made Theo especially vulnerable to total breakdowns unless the right measures were taken. “C’mere.” He eventually said, opening his arms.

Fen practically fell onto him, and with his home right in his arms, Theo made a decision.

“I’m going to tell you a story with a happy ending.”

“What?” Fen gasped. “W-Wait! You don’t need to do that just because I whined about it.”

“Okay, never call yourself a whiner again.” Theo chided, giving Fen’s side another good tickle so he learned his lesson. “And two, being a big brother means I try new things for love’s sake. So, are you ready?”

Fen purred. Absolutely ready.

What came out of Theo’s mouth next was dumb. Totally improvised. More than a few plot holes. Lines that would make a toddler blush. And it was scary, to think that. To believe that. To think, for a minute, of a home with a grown-up they couldn’t just trust. A grown-up they could love. Scarier than the cosmic miasma that stretched above him now.

But holding onto Fen made it a little less terrifying.