Welcome to Gaia! ::

Winston jerked awake when he heard the soft and insistent knocking on his dormitory door, and squinted tiredly at the door before peering across the room to his roommate’s bed. Empty. Figures. Winston huffed quietly, pushing himself up and unwrapping himself from his blankets. The knocking kept up, which was aggravating.

“Give me a second!” He snapped to the door, stumbling to his vanity and double-checking his reflection. The scarf would have to stay, he didn’t trust the curls beneath it to be in any sort of presentable display, so he quickly wiped the mud from his face with the bowl of water and cloth he set aside, and made his way to the door, grumbling tiredly as he opened it.

“What-- … are you doing here?” Winston blinked up at his brother, thrown from the immediate reaction to be furious at being woken up too damn early on a weekend. Lucien hardly ever bothered to do much besides work and attend to his fiancée, and the Below was worlds away from all of that.

“Good morning to you, too.” Lucien lifted an eyebrow at his brother’s unkempt state, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Is this how you greet all your friends?”

“I don’t have friends.” Winston rolled his eyes. “And I especially don’t care how you see me.” He disappeared back into his room, leaving the door open for Lucien to follow him inside. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

“I came to see how you were doing.” Lucien said simply, peering around the room with a slight grimace. “Is this really the state you keep your room in? Winny.”

“It’s not just my room!” Winston snorted from the closet, pulling out his outfit for the day to get dressed. “That half’s my roommate’s problem.” He was sure Lucien would find plenty to pick at without his explanation on either side of the room, but that was just his brother’s way. “You didn’t really answer me.”

“I had a break.” Lucien said simply, fixing the sleeves of his shirt absently and turning his back to his brother to give him something resembling privacy. He hardly felt it necessary, though; Lucien had spent more time taking care of Winston as a child than his parents had, and he’d certainly given him plenty of baths over the years. “Thought I’d see why you’re so fascinated with this place.”

“You’re lying to me.” Winston accused, fixing his sweater and going back to his vanity to fix his hair. “I’m coming to the wedding, by the way. Obviously, missing it would mean you’d have to disown me, but I guess I can suffer through it.”

“You needn’t worry about that.” Lucien plucked the invitation up, eying the cardstock and elaborate calligraphy on the card.

“What’re you talking about?” Winston snorted. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I always like an occasion to dress up. Maybe I’ll even have someone to bring with me by then.” He smirked, eyes gleaming. “Someone completely unkempt, possibly injured, definitely inappropriate—“

“The wedding’s off, Winny.”

Winston stopped, his fingers still in the process of pulling his scarf down, and looked at Lucien in the reflection of his mirror. “… Oh.” He muttered lamely, taking the scarf off and running his fingers through his hair. “What happened?”

“She decided perfection wasn’t her style.” Lucien smiled slightly, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and barely qualified as such a thing to begin with. He reached up, taking a few beads from Winston and taking his time to work them into his hair. Winston dropped his hands to let him, watching Lucien through the mirror.

“She was a b***h, you know.” Winston pointed out.

“She was ideal.” Which, to anyone else, might mean exactly that, but Winston had been speaking his brother's language since he was a baby. That was the closest to admitting that he was in love as he'd get.

“No, she wasn't.” Winston exhaled, leaning back against Lucien. “Sorry. I know you were looking forward to getting married.”

“In any case.” Lucien said as he finished his hair, tugging on his sweater. “Get up. We’re going to go for lunch, and you’re going to come look at offices with me.” He crossed to the door, opening it and looking back to Winston. “… What?” He sighed at the look, glaring a little. “We don’t have time for you to primp, Winny—“

Lucien jerked when Winston crossed the room and hugged him, arms out to his sides hesitantly. He brought them in carefully, sighing, and pressed his head against Winston’s, hugging him tighter. Winston could feel the shake in his hands, and hugged him tighter. After a long minute, Lucien nudged him back, snorting softly.

“I think I should be more upset about this than you.”

“Shut up.” Winston snorted at him. “You know I hated her, right? From the very beginning.” He started out with his brother, looking back. “What’re we looking at buildings for, anyway?”

“A new office.” Lucien snorted at Winston, trailing after him. “You only hated her because you were still a child, and I suddenly had more things to do than play with you.”

“And look how that ended.” Winston smiled brightly, falling into line with his brother. “… I am sorry, Luc.”

“Stop it.” Lucien said pointedly, looking over. “Or I’m going to tell our parents how homesick you are and let them drag you back.”

“I don’t know why you want me to parade around bald, but I still have the razors…” Winston smirked a little, letting Lucien take the lead as his shoulders slumped a little. He’d have to go through his communicator later and make sure their parents shredded all the pictures before he went home…

Lucien, ever the perfectionist, ignored the eyes on his back. He’d start fresh in the Below. Everything would be fine.

Warning: Mentions of violence and minor bloodshed among children.
Word Count: 1,327

Atlas was acutely aware of the kids running around him in the playroom, crashing into one another with resulting screams of delight. He was also aware of three kids in particular – kids who usually didn’t like that he didn’t get involved, and often went out of their way to give him trouble. Bullying in the orphanage was dealt with as it occurred, but kids were also capable of being mean, and isolating, and cruel.

What Atlas hadn’t expected was to be left alone. He was grateful for it, in fact. Atlas preferred playing in the corner of the play room, constructing things with his brick pieces or drawing plans of animals he saw outside without having one of the three bullies run over to kick his creations down, tear his papers, or generally harass him.

He didn’t know why he was being left alone, but he’d take it.

Across the room, the reason for Atlas being left alone was happily playing with dolls alongside another kid, growling under his breath as he reenacted an important fight of some historical renown. Or something. He was pretty sure it’d happened in the past, but if you asked for details, Titan would be hard-pressed to provide them. The aggressive little chomp hybrid was distracted, and despite previous warnings to leave Atlas alone (whether Atlas knew it or not, Titan was clearly his protector now), the bullies seemed to notice his attention was elsewhere.

Atlas should have known it’d been too quiet for too long. He tilted his head absently as a shadow fell over him, frowning a little and peering up. “Could you move—” He started to ask, the question dying on his lips when he realized just who was standing over him.

“What’re you doing now, Atlas?” The bigger of the three asked with a sneer, yanking the paper out from under Atlas and eying the drawing. Roman, leader of the Jerks. “What’s this supposed to be anyway? It just looks like a pile of junk!”

“Give it back.” Atlas glared a little, shrinking under the boys standing over him. They had the advantage in size and mass, and while Atlas was generally faster than they were, they’d crowded him in at the art table. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to draw.”

Atlas really should have known better than to open his mouth.

He yelped when the second of the bullies – Trent, or Toby, or something like that – pushed him out of the chair, wincing as he hit the ground and growling a little under his breath. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to fight back, but if he just sat there and didn’t react, they’d get bored eventually.

With his eyes on the ground and his body tense in case he got an opportunity to run, Atlas definitely didn’t notice the oncoming storm until it was too late.

Trent-or-Something suddenly let out a yell as he was pushed, hard, into the table and away from the biggest of the perpetrators. Titan straightened up, glaring hard at the other two bullies. Atlas looked back, blinking a little at the horn-headed hybrid. He wasn’t much bigger than Atlas, and the leader of this little cult of bullying was certainly bigger than him. Atlas was stunned.

Titan didn’t seem to care at all that he was smaller. If anything, he looked like he could take them anyway.

It was probably the spikes.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to leave Atlas alone.” Titan growled, clenching his fists.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not my boss.” Roman growled in reply, squaring to face Titan. Atlas took advantage of the attention, skirting away from the fight and backing up against the wall. He’d seen the hybrid before, and he’d definitely heard about him getting in trouble for fighting.

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.” Titan snorted, glaring at him. “Leave him alone, or you’re gonna regret it.”

“What d’you think you’re gonna do about it?” Roman glared down at Titan, looming over him. Titan just grinned, a mouth full of sharp fangs at the ready, and barreled right into Roman’s stomach, slamming him to the ground.

The fight didn’t last long, of course. Caretakers at the orphanage were always on hand to stop an altercation before it got too out of hand. Career orphans like Titan, the ones who’d been there longer than others, knew how to take advantage of those precious minutes. In the confusion of the tussle, Roman left with a bloody nose, a bite, and the likelihood of a concussion. Titan was pulled away to talk to the director with a bruise forming under his eye, and the smuggest of expressions.

Atlas was left confused, and resolved to find the hybrid later to figure out why, exactly, he’d decided to protect him.


It wasn’t until nearly a week later that Atlas finally saw Titan enter the playroom again. They weren’t in the same room at night, and it seemed their meals were separate too. Either that, or Titan had been isolated as a punishment for his crimes.

Despite the punishment, it’d been effective. Roman and his goons had left Atlas well alone, and it seemed everyone else had opted to do the same after that fight. Atlas kept an eye out, vaguely, for Titan, and was relieved when he finally reappeared.

The litch waited until Titan was settled before he popped up beside him, fidgeting a little and squinting at the hybrid. If he squinted hard enough, maybe he’d understand why Titan had done it. He doubted it, but knowledge-by-osmosis sounded better than actually talking about it.

“Hey.”

Atlas jerked out of his thoughts, blinking a little, and was annoyed when he realized Titan had apparently been watching him for at least the last minute. “…hi.” He swallowed, and sat down next to him on the floor, eying the dolls Titan had picked out. “…’m Atlas.”

“I know.” Titan said, nodding a little and holding out one of the dolls with a smile. “Titan.”

“… Really?” He snickered a little. Somehow, that knowledge had escaped him. Atlas wasn’t really good with names. He’d likely forget it sooner or later. “Sorry.”

Titan shrugged, grinning a little at Atlas and eying him. “You okay? Roman and those other dummies left you alone, right?”

“Yeah.” Atlas nodded a little, taking the doll and fussing with its hair quietly. “… Why’d you stop them.” He looked over. “No one else did.” He shrugged a little. “It wasn’t their problem.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” Titan rolled his eyes, playing with his own dolls. “No one was stickin’ up for you. So I decided I was gonna.”

“Why?” Atlas pressed, frowning at him.

Titan looked over. “’Cause.”

“… Titan.” Atlas huffed a little, crossing his arms. “That’s not a reason.”

Titan grinned at the huffy litch, shrugging sheepishly. “You need someone to protect you ‘cause you’re small and you don’t always pay attention. So if no one else is gonna, it’s gotta be me.”

Atlas eyed him, frowning a little as he tried to sort that out in the limited world he operated in, a world where – until now – Atlas hadn’t wanted, needed, or had anyone in his corner. He was content to operate as a single unit, but suddenly being claimed by someone, especially Titan, made everything feel…warm.

And a little like he was going to throw up.

“I’m not gonna be able to protect you back.” Atlas pointed out, eying the toys. “’m not good at fighting. Not like you. And I’m not really good at… this.” He gestured broadly to the room at large, but especially the other kids in it.

Titan grinned wider, nodding. “Yeah, I noticed.” He shrugged, and dropped an arm around Atlas’s shoulders, yanking him into a hug. “It’s okay. I’ll protect both of us.”

“…okay.” Atlas mumbled, sinking into it. He could get used to this. He just hoped Titan didn’t change his mind later.

Titan came home from the tavern, kicking the door shut behind him as he carted a few bags of groceries through to the kitchen. “I’m home!” He called over his shoulder, setting the bags on the table and starting to unpack. “Gonna start on dinner, got any preferences?” Titan slowed, tilting his head towards the living room, and sighed to himself. “Damn it, At.”

The Chomp hybrid crossed the kitchen into the living room, slowing in the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk. “At?”

The living room was in a state, although this wasn’t particularly new for Titan. Finals week always brought with it an avalanche of papers strung throughout the living room, taped to the tables and walls in something resembling order, although what order that might be escaped Titan. Atlas was in the center of it, curled up on the couch with his notebook and computer on his lap, typing away as he eyeballed his notes.

“Atlas.” Titan tried again, watching the smaller Litch with a soft snort. No response. He was miles and miles away. Titan made his way to the back of the couch, setting a hand on it and peering over Atlas to the cup of tea on the table.

Ice cold, by the looks of it. Atlas hadn’t moved in hours.

Titan grumbled under his breath, rubbing his eye. “I don’t wanna have to take you shopping with me every time.” He muttered more to himself than to Atlas. He leaned down, one hand coming up to curl around Atlas’s jaw lightly. He turned his head to the side, breaking the eyeline from his notebook, and pressed his lips to the side of Atlas’s head.

“Hey. Come back to me.” He muttered against his ear, kissing the spot again lightly.

Atlas blinked a few times, jaw clenching in his grip, and reached up to rub at his eye. “Hey. When’d you get home?”

“Couple minutes ago.” Titan straightened up, tugging on his shoulder lightly. “C’mon, take a break. You haven’t moved since I left for work.”

“I’ve been working—” Atlas tried to argue.

Titan pointed at him, and jerked his head back to the kitchen. “Don’t make me pick you up. C’mon, stay with me.”

Atlas sighed, watching Titan retreat to the kitchen, and grumbled under his breath as he rose and started packing up his notes. Nearly ten minutes later, he joined Titan in the kitchen, walking over to him and pressing his head against Titan’s back. “Sorry.” He muttered against it, leaning back and looking around him, eying what Titan was chopping. “What’s for dinner?”

“Dunno yet. You got a preference?”

“No.” Atlas straightened up, rolling his sleeves. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Start on this.” Titan nudged over a cutting board of vegetables, watching him start in on it. The two fell into a quiet rhythm of chopping and cooking, the silence curling around them comfortably. Atlas leaned Titan’s way absently, starting to drift off in his thoughts while he chopped the vegetables.

“Atlas?” Titan looked over, and swore, catching his wrist and taking the knife away. “Atlas!”

“Huh?” Atlas blinked a little, looking at Titan first and then down. He’d cut his finger, but the pain only just began to register. “… s**t.” He muttered, letting Titan pull him away from the counter. He sank down at the kitchen table, holding his hand up while Titan went to get the first aid kit. “I’m sorry.” He said after him, sighing. “It’s this final. I’m almost done, I just—”

“I know, At.” Titan sighed, coming back in. “I should’ve made you sit this one out.” He knelt in front of Atlas, taking his hand and starting on cleaning and bandaging the finger. “How much longer, d’you think?”

“An hour or two, probably.” Atlas admitted, exhaling. “Then I’m done for the semester. Honest. I’ll focus more, I swear—”

“It’s okay, Atlas.” Titan finished bandaging the finger quietly, straightening up and tugging him up. Atlas folded into the hug, grumbling a little against his chest. “Go work on it. I’ll come get you when dinner’s done.”

“Okay.” Atlas sighed, pulling away and disappearing out into the living room. Titan watched after him, rubbing his face, and went to clean up and start again. He’d finish dinner, and pull Atlas right back out of that no man’s land again.


A couple hours later, Titan tugged Atlas’s face away from his work again, nuzzling the top of his head in greeting. Atlas leaned into it with a tiny smirk, closing his eyes. “Hi again.”

“Food’s done. You good?”

“Yeah.” Atlas nodded, saving his work with a sigh and closing everything down. “It’s as good as it’s gonna be. If I keep looking at it, I’m going to keep finding everything that’s wrong with it.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. C’mon, come eat.” Titan steered Atlas away from the work, heading back to the kitchen table. Dinner at the table was a staple of theirs growing up, and a habit Titan liked to enforce. It meant Atlas couldn’t escape away into his room or his work, and it meant he’d have to talk about something, even if that something was just the food.

“How was work?” Atlas asked, sinking into his spot next to Titan instead of across from him and pulling his plate over. He shifted and sank into his side, forcing Titan to eat with his opposite hand while his other curled around Atlas’s side.

“Fine.” Titan shrugged, kissing the top of his head. “Went and put some money in the account for the bar. Then I went and bought food – I got your chocolates on the top of the fridge, too.” He added with a smirk, eating quietly.

“… I can’t reach the top of the fridge.”

“That’s the point of a reward, babe. You don’t give it to yourself.”

“I give myself rewards.” Atlas grumbled, eating anyway.

“Treats. You give yourself treats.” He snickered a little, nudging him. “Eat and you can have some chocolate later.”

“Okay.” Atlas sighed, sinking into him and eating. “How much longer, d’you think?” He asked, tilting his head.

Titan shrugged. “Couple more months, probably. Less if I take on some more jobs.”

Atlas frowned at that. “I could get a job now that school’s done…”

Titan shook his head, kissing the side of his head. “Don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies.” He smiled, finishing his dinner and waiting while Atlas picked at his. “I was thinkin’ about the fights, maybe.”

Atlas tensed. Titan tightened his grip on his side, grounding. “Just a few. Just to get some money in the bank, get started on the bar.”

“Titan, that’s not a good idea—”

“I was just thinking about it.” He clarified, kissing the side of his head. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. But it’d speed things up a bit…”

Atlas grimaced at that, exhaling, and looked up at him. “If I say no, are you gonna do it anyway?”

Titan eyed him, exhaling in kind, and leaned back against the chair. “No.” He said finally. “It just means finding other jobs.”

Atlas eyed him, grimacing a little, and finished his dinner. He got up, taking Titan’s plate, and moved to the sink to wash the dishes. Titan got up with a sigh, following behind him and sliding an arm around his waist, resting his head on top of Atlas’s.

“I won’t.” He promised, nuzzling the top of his head. “I don’t need you worrying, too.”

“Okay.” Atlas nodded a little, swallowing. “Just…” He sank back into Titan. “Don’t get into something you can’t win.”

Titan grinned at that, all sharp teeth, like a dog set loose. “I never lose, baby.” He kissed the top of his head, straightening up, and grabbed the chocolate from the top of the fridge. Atlas took it, grumbling under his breath, and knocked his head back against Titan’s chest.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Atlas muttered, taking his chocolate. “Your blind ego.”

Titan smiled at that, leaning down for a short, sweet kiss. “Fighting for you, At. I never lose.”

Atlas sighed into the kiss, rolling his eyes, and jabbed him. “You’re fighting for you, dummy. You going out tonight?”

“Might as well.” Titan nodded, steering Atlas back to the living room and sinking down onto the couch with him. “After you’re asleep, though.”

“And back when I wake up?”

“Always.” He smiled, hugging Atlas tighter. The litch nodded a little at that, settling into Titan’s side, and started in on his chocolate.

A couple of fights would be fine. Titan never lost. And it’d get them the bar sooner, and Titan wouldn’t need to fight ever again. Not for money, anyway. It’d be fine.