Chapter Text
Half-lidded eyes wrenched open to the sound of muffled crying. A▋▋▋▋ peeled back the thin sheet he had nestled in, then rose - on the balls of his feet as practiced. Two cautious steps towards the door intensified the volume of the sniffling. Three, four, five steps, and he was at the door. As he turned the knob, the crying paused, yet he persisted. He pulled the door open, making sure to lift up as he did so to minimize the squeal of the hinges, then braved the hallway. The black of the hall was coated in thin, silvery moonlight, a solitary gleam that revealed a younger child curled in the corner. A▋▋▋▋ took a few exploratory steps towards the unquestionably scared child.
"Hey... you okay?" he asked, taking another step closer and chancing a reassuring touch on the shoulder.
Faster than his eyes could comprehend, a flash of movement triggered thin, carmine lines on the back of A▋▋▋▋'s arm. He jolted backwards and winced, but just as quickly re-extended his hand and offered another, softer reassurance.
"It's gonna be okay, I promise. I won't hurt you."
His hand, thankfully, went unassailed. With his arm safely contacting the magicat, A▋▋▋▋ calmly lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs in silence.
The two remained adjacent in unspoken solidarity until the light of dawn lapped at their stiff necks. Only then did the young boy turn to A▋▋▋▋ and speak.
"I'm C▋▋▋▋, I'm six now!" came from the surprisingly cheery cat, whose mismatched eyes had only just now registered with A▋▋▋▋.
"I'm seven, but we can still be friends. My name's A▋▋▋▋!" he chimed, smiling wider than he had in recent memory.
C▋▋▋▋ smiled back, and from then the two became inseparable.
The odious shadow oozes down the hall, approaching her lair with the grace of an assassin. The moment the door closes, C▋▋▋▋ slips out from underneath the end table. He drags his reluctantly socked feet, not trusting his claws to avoid scraping the floor. Creeping to the kitchen, he quietly opens the pantry door and grabs a box of saltine crackers before scampering back to his bed - taking extra care to ensure Mrs. Weaver is pre-occupied prior to opening the door, of course. As he inspects his spoils, a blonde mop pokes out from the top bunk. C▋▋▋▋ gives a thumbs up.
A▋▋▋▋ takes a seat beside the magicat, eyes wide with a terror that is quickly assuaged by the crackers placed in his hands. In a hushed voice, he protests meekly, "You're going to get in trouble."
C▋▋▋▋ snickers, adding "If I get caught."
Concern doesn't leave the human's eyes, but his voice ceases wavering. "Thanks, Cat."
A chill rolls over the magicat at the nickname. He half-consciously raises a brow, tilting his head.
"Oh, cuz... cuz you're sneaky and light on your feet, like a panther!" A▋▋▋▋ says slightly too loudly, prompting a hush from his friend.
C▋▋▋▋ ponders it for a few minutes in a comfortable near-silence as the two of them munch on stale crackers. An unfamiliar pride washes over him at the thought of being compared to a panther - the coolest animal ever, he'll have you know - but something scares him about it. Something nameless, faceless.
"I like it," he finally decides, tamping down the dread in his heart.
A▋▋▋▋ beams like he was just handed the world.
C▋▋▋▋ spends his eleventh birthday locked outside. Surprisingly, Weaver had nothing to do with it, at least not directly. An older boy, Cobalt, had waited for him at the door after school with an airsoft gun, refusing him entry at gunpoint. Not unexpected, given the extensive damage C▋▋▋▋ had done to his posters the night before.
Perhaps a show of defiance wasn't the brightest course of action in hindsight, given that C▋▋▋▋ ended up sitting by the fence, nursing a welt or two on his upper thigh. Though he'd never admit it, what stung far more was the fact he'd be missing his biannual movie night with A▋▋▋▋ - for the past two years on their birthdays, they'd commandeer the wheeled TV and VHS player for a few hours to watch a slightly munted copy of Spy Kids 2. They'd never seen the first, but it's not like they followed rules often, anyways. C▋▋▋▋'s birthday had been chosen because he'd thought he felt older that morning, and that was enough. A▋▋▋▋ had a real birthday, but he didn't make a big deal of it.
Nevertheless, it was hardly the first time he'd spent the night outside. The fear had long since faded to indifference, though he knew A▋▋▋▋ would join him shortly anyways. He'd had lacrosse practice, and C▋▋▋▋ had heard the activities bus a few minutes ago.
As if on cue, he saw the blonde drop from the window to the emaciated birch. C▋▋▋▋ waited for him to inevitably cut himself on a branch or sprain his ankle landing wrong, but the day could hold only so much bad luck, apparently.
C▋▋▋▋ paid him a somber wave as he approached.
"Coby?" A▋▋▋▋ questioned, then followed up without waiting for a response. "'m sorry, Cat. I stole his jar of BBs this morning, but I should've known..." He mopes guiltily, dropping to the dirt beside C▋▋▋▋.
C▋▋▋▋ didn't respond. While not quite mute, he rarely spoke to anyone aside from A▋▋▋▋ - and even then, he was hardly a conversationalist. He'd told his best friend that he simply much preferred to listen, but he honestly never understood why he didn't feel like speaking, himself.
Nearly a minute passed before he said anything.
"They're not BBs. They're pellets."
A▋▋▋▋ tilted his head. "Huh?"
The magicat sighed. "BBs are lead. Airsoft pellets are like, plastic." This earned a gasp from A▋▋▋▋.
"Isn't that what real bullets are made've?"
"No, dummy. Real bullets are made of iron." C▋▋▋▋ declared, snickering. Sometimes it was fun being the smart one of the group.
A▋▋▋▋ frowned for a moment, then nodded. "I guess that makes sense," he admits, "'m not that good with metal stuff."
"Metal stuff?" C▋▋▋▋ laughs.
A▋▋▋▋ blushes. "Y'knew what I meant. You're the science friend."
"You're a fuckin' dork."
A▋▋▋▋ didn't respond, he just kept looking at C▋▋▋▋ with that signature grin.
"Hey, A▋▋▋▋?" C▋▋▋▋ asked, breaking A▋▋▋▋ from his stupor.
"Yeah?"
"Do you, uh, think you could ramble about something like you did last night?" C▋▋▋▋ sniffs a bit, the cold air finally getting to him.
A▋▋▋▋'s cheeks turn red, probably just now registering the cold. "Mhm, whatdya want?"
"Anything. Just talk."
C▋▋▋▋ presses his back to the fence as A▋▋▋▋ chatters about some weird jellyfish he read about, easily forgetting the cruel sting of the night air. The conditions didn't matter to him. Anywhere felt safe with A▋▋▋▋.
A▋▋▋▋ awoke to the usual mess of tangled limbs and half-discarded blankets. Apparently he ran hot, and Cat preferred that source of heat to the comforter, if the purring was any indication. A▋▋▋▋ ran his hand through Cat's hair, scritching a little behind his ears for good measure. Pure, sweet, morning bliss before the hell of high school.
The top bunk had been all but abandoned for about a year now - ever since A▋▋▋▋'s 13th birthday - and neither of them seemed keen to change that. They slept far better in each other's company than they ever had apart - and no, it wasn't gay, they both liked girls, thank you very much. Best friends share beds all the time, it's not a big deal.
In his musings, A▋▋▋▋ failed to notice Cat awaken, and so the sudden voice hit his reverie like a tsunami.
"D'ya think Shweaver would ever let us get a pet?"
A▋▋▋▋ looked at Cat in bewilderment, wondering where the hell he got the idea.
Cat, sensing the confusion, elaborated "Cuz Coby got that dumb fish despite being useless. Surely we could get away with a cat or something."
A▋▋▋▋ took a few seconds to consider it, before ultimately deciding that it wasn't worth risking. Cat pouts before he can say anything.
"S'not fair." Cat pauses a tick before an idea blooms in his head, following with "I'd bet if you asked her she'd fold in an instant."
A▋▋▋▋ recoiled at the accusation, finally speaking. "What? She hates me as much as anyone. What makes you think she'd listen to anything I said?"
Cat scoffs, nuzzling his head into A▋▋▋▋'s chest even further, looking up at him - which definitely did not make his cheeks light up - and counters, "Please, princess. She'd give you anything you asked for, the way she goes on and on about your 'potential' and how you'll make her proud one day."
There's that nickname again, a point of relentless teasing from the time said he wanted to be like Briar Rose in Sleeping Beauty - a comment that had just slipped out with little to justify it. Truth be told, he didn't hate it. It was kind of cute, in a completely straight and normal way.
"Did I break you? You still in there?"
A▋▋▋▋ snaps out of it to find Cat's face in inch from her- HIS own. Just close enough that a slight nudge could...
"No, sorry, just thinking about how we could do this. She's definitely not going to take us to a pet store, but I think maybe if we got a stray, she wouldn't make me get rid of it."
Cat bristles a little at the use of 'me', retreating back into A▋▋▋▋'s chest, but ultimately relents.
"There's that gray cat that's sometimes out behind the music trailer at school. He's really old, though." Cat hums in thought, clearly talking only to himself.
A▋▋▋▋ interrupts the processing, suggesting "We can keep an eye out for any strays on the way to school and back, okay? We- I can convince her to let us keep it."
This earns a thick grumble from the magicat, which is probably the closest thing he'd get to an 'okay' right now.
Silence had fallen over the room, the two having concluded their dialogue.
Or, it would be silent, were it not interspersed with soft, trilling purrs.
A▋▋▋▋ doesn't want to be a boy anymore. Nothing about his body feels right. It feels like everyone around him only talks about being shitty to women and how best to get laid. He hates the clothes, he hates the expectations, he hates the facial hair and the body odor and everything about this accursed body he inhabits. He feels more than just ugly, he feels ashamed of himself. When Lonnie asked him out nearly a month ago, he took it as a prank and walked away - Cat chewed him out for that one, later. Apparently Lonnie cried afterwards, so now A▋▋▋▋ gets an accusatory glare in the halls.
If he'd been born a girl, everything would be perfect. The past sixteen years would make sense. The feelings he knows he shouldn't have for Cat that are twisted up in an ever-present wrongness would be so easy to understand. Maybe then Cat would stop being so distant, and they'd finally share a bed again. Maybe Cat wouldn't be afraid to be seen with him for fear of being calling gay again.
He had known he couldn't tell Cat. It would have ruined the tiny sliver of friendship that remained. So instead, he told the only adult he trusted.
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The counselor's office was easily the most tranquil building in the whole school. Dim lights, a pleasant aroma of vanilla, lilac walls decorated tastefully without any of that "hang in there" bullshit.
A▋▋▋▋ slipped into the armchair across from the counselor, grateful for the sweatshirt - Cat's sweatshirt - lending him the courage to do this.
The counselor smiled to A▋▋▋▋, then broke the silence.
"So, A▋▋▋▋, what seems to be the matter? You've looked rather stressed lately. Is there anything I can help with?"
The name stung a little to hear from her. For the first time, A▋▋▋▋ looked, truly looked at Ms. Ella. Purple locks complemented her soft, delicate features - and all he could feel was jealousy.
A deep breath helps to center him. "I really don't know how to say this, but you're kind of the only person I felt safe to go to."
Ms. Ella nodded.
"I've never really felt like I fit in with everyone else," he starts, "Like everyone else has something figured out that I don't. Like I don't belong."
Another nod. Another deep breath.
"I... I hate being a boy. Not- I don't want to be a man or any of that shit - sorry - I hate being like this. Nothing feels right anymore. Every time I'm forced to see this body I want to cry. I just... what can I do? How can I fix this? I only started feeling this way a few weeks ago, is it still reversible? Am I going to be like this forever? Is-" A▋▋▋▋'s rambling is cut off by a raised hand from Ms. Ella.
Her face is calm, warm, understanding. When she finally speaks, her voice is even and relaxed.
"Do you think you'd be happier as a woman?"
A▋▋▋▋ scrunches his face up, half-expecting the question to be a trap.
She smiles genuinely. "Honey, it's okay if you do. I promise that anything you say here stays with me."
He hesitates. Thirty seconds, a minute.
"I think so," he whispers weakly. He follows it with a stronger message, "But I'm not a transexual! I just... wish I'd been born different."
Ms. Ella looks... proud, if a little pitying.
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Another hour later, Adora walks home from school, her head swimming with information. She heads to her room, finding it empty, as usual. Cat is probably out with friends or something; their relationship has been strained lately. It's to the point where he isn't even the first person Adora wants to tell about this. In fact, she doesn't really know if she has anyone else she could tell.
As the next few weeks go by, Adora avoids the matter entirely. She suffers through the constant misgendering, deadnaming, and the rot of stagnation. She desperately needs to be doing something, making an effort to become who she wants to be. She's downright miserable, knowing that she could be on blockers and estrogen right now but isn't.
In a moment of weakness, she decides to tell Ms. Weaver.
Like a moth to the flame, she approaches Weaver's office. She knocks.
"Come in, A▋▋▋▋." beckons the inky voice within.
Not bothering to wonder how she knew it was her, she opens the door and stands in front of Weaver's desk.
"What do you need, my child? Is that wretch C▋▋▋▋ still bothering you?" She spits the name as though it were filth.
Adora steels herself, then speaks before she can regret it.
"I'm transgender. I need to go on puberty blockers and I would like to be referred to as Adora," she says in the most monotone voice she can pull, her heart racing in her chest.
After a moment's hesitation, Weaver responds.
"Of course, child. I'll schedule an appointment as soon as I am able. Was there anything else?"
The words take a moment to hit Adora, leaving her in shock. She recovers enough to offer a simple 'no', then steps out into the hall. From within, the shadows release a final command.
"Do take care, Adora. I'm expecting great things from you."