Horoscope ~:12:~ A Which One Story for Girls

~:12:~

Last time: Went to the carnival with the boys, where you got to see Elliot perform with fire.

You woke to the sound of yelling downstairs. It was the second week in October and the atmosphere had cooled down even more. Almost all the trees were bare, except for a select few that turned colors a little later in the season. It was common for the boys to wear long sleeves or jackets now, and you yourself had abandoned shorts and tank tops for the rest of the year. At the moment, it was raining, though not very hard. The watery drops made a soft pitter-patter on the roof that would lull you back to sleep if it weren't for the racket going on downstairs.

The yelling escalated enough that you were able to recognize the voices. It sounded like Nash and Elliot were going at each other again. There had been a strange tension between them this whole week, and Elliot had been especially moody these last couple of days, snapping at everyone for no apparent reason.

You sighed and got out of your makeshift bed, quickly changing into some presentable clothes and then speedily making your way downstairs. Inadvertently, you had ended up being the peacemaker of the household this last week. Every time Nash and Elliot got to fighting, you convinced them to calm down or to at least walk away. The other boys did absolutely nothing about the conflicts that seemed to be increasing both in number and intensity. Warren was known to hide out in his room while Caine and Tucker made some excuse to get away.

Truthfully, you had absolutely no idea why Elliot and Nash were fighting so much. It never seemed to be anything of incredible importance - just something one did to irritate the other. Still, they were quite intense about it. Luckily they had not yet come to blows, because there was nothing you could do in that particular situation.

The yelling stopped before you reached the bottom step. Maybe they had sorted it out by themselves this time. But as you walked toward the family room, you heard Nash speak.

"Maybe you should leave for a little while." His voice was deadly calm, an almost venomous tone to it.

"Maybe I should!" answered Elliot in a much louder voice.

"Then go," said Nash. "Come back when you've fixed your attitude."

Elliot stormed into the hall and past you, not sparing you a glance as he headed to the door. He was livid. Every line in his face pointed down in an angry frown. His posture was tense and his movements were fast and jerky. If you had reached out and touched him at that moment, you were sure he would have punched you.

The slamming of the front door practically shook the house.

You were rooted to the spot, appalled. Had Nash seriously just kicked Elliot out?

....................................

Elliot, come back! We can work this out! (a)

From the sounds of it, it was necessary. (b)

That was frightening. *shivers* (c)

Good riddance! (d)

I can't believe it! (e)

.....................................

He hadn't been wearing a coat, you thought. Elliot had gone out into the rain, so furious that he hadn't even put on a coat. You vaguely wondered where he was going and if he would be drenched by the time he got there.

When you finally moved into the family room, you were surprised to see Nash sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He was inhaling deeply and his exhales sounded like long, drawn out sighs.

"Nash?" you asked hesitantly. You had never seen him like this before. He was always a picture of confidence, no matter the situation.

He sat up and turned around to look at you. There was no cocky smirk, nor a smile. "Hello, love."

"What happened?"

He sighed and got up, coming to stand in front of you. His cheeks were still a little flushed from yelling and his eyes held none of their usual humor. "I think you know what happened." He looked away and mumbled, "I've never had to kick anybody out before."

You placed your hand on his arm, trying to make it a comforting gesture. He looked so upset about this and it troubled you to see him this way.

.....................................

"Don't worry. He'll come back." (a)

"You did what you had to. No regrets." (b)

"It'll all work out; you'll see." (c)

"That bastard deserved it, okay?" (d)

"Just give him time. He'll get over it." (e)

.....................................

Nash smiled. "See, love? This is why we like having you around." He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, resting his chin on your shoulder. For once, you allowed him without complaint. He didn't seem to be using this as an opportunity to feel you up (which was his usual M.O.) and he had looked in need of a hug anyway.

He broke away and gave you a halfhearted smile before leaving the room. You could hear his footsteps going up the stairs.

Your eyes traveled to the windows. If anything, the rain had intensified. There was no thunder or lightning, but that didn't mean anything, really. It was still wet outside. Wet and cold.

"Are you thinking about going after him?"

You jumped, whirling around to see that Caine had come up behind you without your notice. He seemed to have a habit of doing this, and it didn't help that he was good at it as long as he wasn't wearing his boots. This thought made you glance down at his sock-clad feet before answering.

"Not really," you said. "I was just thinking about the rain."

"Hmm."

The two of you stood in silence, watching the raindrops roll down the window panes. Silence was the norm when it came to being around Caine. He never seemed to have much to say.

"I think you should," he said.

"Should what?"

"Go after Elliot."

You studied Caine curiously, trying to discern the expression on his face. You couldn't read it, and since it seemed like he wasn't going to say anything more, you decided to prompt him.

"Why do you think that?"

"It's raining."

You laughed at this. Obviously it was raining! The two of you had been standing here and watching it for the past few minutes!

"It's cold out there," Caine elaborated. "It's wet. He may be an ass, but he needs somebody to chase him down." The tall redhead looked down at you and smiled. "You were thinking about it anyway."

You glanced out the window again, where the rain continued to pour. Elliot would definitely be wet by now, and though you hadn't yet made up your mind when Caine had come up behind you, you had certainly been considering going after him, in a roundabout way.

"I didn't see which way he went, though," you said, turning back to Caine. "I wouldn't know where to look for him."

"He doesn't have many places to go," Caine told you.

You sighed. Did you really want to go trudging through the rain, searching for somebody you weren't even guaranteed to find? The idea was definitely not appealing, but you found yourself determined to carry it out anyway.

"I think I'll go."

And so, armed with an umbrella and a plastic bag containing a towel, a blanket, and some of Elliot's clothes, you set out into the rain.

..................................

I'm coming, Elliot! (a)

I hope I'm able to find him. (b)

Hopefully he hasn't caught a cold. (c)

I can't believe I talked myself into this. -_- (d)

But it's raining!!! T_T (e)

..................................

At first, you could think of no place to go. You hardly knew anything about Elliot. How were you supposed to find him? But then it occurred to you that the warehouse might be a good place to check. It was worth a shot, anyway, and you had nothing but time. So you started off in that direction, hoping that the warehouse was where you'd find him so that you wouldn't have to spend the day walking around aimlessly.

It was odd how a rainy day seemed to soak the color out of everything. Maybe that was why so many people hated the rain. Though being wet and cold was probably a big factor as well.

Three more months, you thought. You would return home and meet up with your family in January. The thought excited you. You were at the halfway point. Three more months and you could be home, your life back to normal. And though you had come to really appreciate and care for the gang the last few months, the five boys were no substitute for your family.

Henderson's warehouses came into sight, and you quickened your pace. You were lucky the wind wasn't blowing; otherwise the umbrella you were using would be completely useless. You probably wouldn't have gone in search of Elliot if that had been the case.

A few more minutes and you came upon the warehouse you were looking for. Delicately, you reached your arm through the hole in the window and unlocked the door, letting yourself in just as you had the first time you'd been here. You locked it behind you, folded up the umbrella, then turned to face the vacant space.

It was somewhat dark inside, due to the rain, but you spotted Elliot easily. He was leaning against a wall with a lit match in hand, staring at it with such extreme focus that you didn't think he'd even noticed your arrival.

...................................

Yay! I found him! (a)

I'm lucky to have found him. (b)

Thank goodness he decided to come here. (c)

If he wasn't here, I would've gone back home. (d)

First place I checked! I'm so good! (e)

..................................

Upon closer inspection, you saw that Elliot was wet. Soaked, actually. You could see his watery footprints leading to the wall against which he sat. Drops of water were falling from his drenched hair onto his waterlogged clothes and from his clothes to the floor. He was shivering, too.

"Elliot?" you said hesitantly, remembering how angry he had been when he left about an hour ago.

His attention snapped away from the lit match and onto you, a surprised look on his face. "_____? What are you doing here? If you're trying to get me to come back, don't bother. I don't want to, and Nash wouldn't let me anyway."

"I thought you would need some dry clothes," you explained, holding up the plastic bag. You leaned your umbrella next to the door and approached Elliot, who had stood up and snuffed out his match.

You dug the towel out of the bag and handed it to him first, then the whole sack of clothes. For a moment, nothing happened. He only stood there, looking back and forth between you and the items. Then he grinned.

"Turn around," he said. "I don't particularly care, but it would probably be awkward for you to watch me strip."

You would have protested his bossiness, but he had a valid point. So you swiveled around and studied the wall you were now facing, trying not to pay too much attention to the sound of drenched clothes dropping to the ground.

"Wow, you're thorough, aren't you?" said Elliot.

"What do you mean?"

"There's a pair of boxers and socks in here."

"Oh. Well, Caine was the one who actually got the clothes from your room. I just put in the coat and the blanket."

"Hmph." You couldn't discern the tone that went with that. "Alright, I'm finished."

...............................

Good! Now he's dry and he won't catch a cold. ^^ (a)

He'll be a lot warmer this way. (b)

Thank goodness. That was awkward. (c)

Finally! He's slow as a girl! (d)

Darnit! I never got the chance to sneak a peek! =P (e)

..............................

"Better?" you asked, seeing that Caine had picked out long sleeves for Elliot. The tall boy's hair wasn't completely dry, but it was no longer dripping, and he looked considerably warmer.

"Much," he said with a nod. "Thank you."

There was an awkward pause. It had been a long time since you were alone with Elliot for this long and it was sort of uncomfortable.

"Did you want to stay here for a little while?" he asked after a moment. "It's not very warm, but you can have the blanket, if you want."

"Sure," you agreed. You had sort of hoped that he would open up and tell you what was making him so touchy this last week. This would be a good opportunity to maybe get it out of him. So you shed your jacket, wrapped the blanket around you, and sat down facing him.

The rain sounded louder here than it did at the house, though when you looked out a window, it didn't appear to be falling any harder.

"How long are you going to stay here?" you asked.

The dark-haired boy's face hardened for a moment, but then his expression relaxed and he sighed. "I often forget that you don't mean anything harmful by your questions." He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I don't know, _____. I really screwed up."

You studied Elliot's expression, considering the wording of your next question. You wanted to ask directly what had been causing his anger this last week, but you decided to go with a more vague approach.

"Are you okay, Elliot?"

He opened one eye, studying you a moment before leaning forward again. He was silent and motionless for a long while, but eventually he shook his head. "No, I don't think I am."

You scooted closer without a thought and asked what you had been hesitant to ask before. You had a feeling that he wouldn't blow up this time, so you were going to go for it. "What's wrong, then? Why have you been so angry this past week?"

Like your feeling had told you, Elliot didn't explode in anger as he normally would under such inquiry. Instead, he took out a match and lit it, eyes intent on the small flame it produced. Fire seemed to comfort Elliot. He never looked calmer than when he was gazing into flames.

"If I tell you, will you keep it to yourself?" he asked at length. His eyes flitted momentarily to you before returning their focus to the match.

................................

"Of course!" (a)

"I promise." (b)

"I will." (c)

"Yeah, sure." (d)

"Cross my heart and hope to die!" (e)

................................

The dark-haired boy sighed and pinched out the match, which had been steadily burning down towards the fingers that held it. "Okay," he murmured, as if preparing himself. Then he began.

"I've been seeing my mother around Henderson this week," he said. The very thought changed his expression to a scowl. "Luckily, she hasn't seen me yet. But maybe it wouldn't matter if she did. She probably doesn't care. Hell, she probably wouldn't even recognize me."

He caught your bewildered expression and explained himself. "I was fourteen when she decided she didn't want me anymore. I don't know what brought it on. Could've been her boyfriend or that I was starting to act like a teenager or the way I played with fire. It doesn't matter. She took me to a hospital and left me there. She said she was going to run some errands while I got a checkup and then she left. Needless to say, there was no checkup and she never came back. When they finally noticed that I'd been sitting there for several hours and that I wasn't waiting for anybody, that I had no scheduled appointment or anything, they called the cops and had them take me home. Except home was completely cleaned out and she wasn't there. She abandoned me."

Elliot had lit and snuffed out several matches during the course of his short story, but now he sat still, watching you with his gray eyes and awaiting your reaction.

You, in the meantime, were scrambling. What were you supposed to say? It was terrible what his mother had done to him and now you completely understood his behavior, but you still felt that it was completely misplaced anger. He had no right to take it out on his friends and housemates, especially Nash, who had received the brunt of Elliot's frustrations.

"I'm sorry, Elliot," you told him. It was all you could say. You couldn't imagine what it would be like to have parents who abandoned you. Currently, your parents were doing everything they could to protect you. It served as a reminder that there were certainly worse situations to be in.

The dark-haired boy nodded -- a swift, jerking motion -- then lit another match. Once again, the only sound was that of the rain pounding on the roof of the warehouse. It had intensified sometime during Elliot's story, but you had only just now noticed the change.

You had him comfortable, you thought as you returned your attention to the boy across from you. It wasn't often that Elliot opened up and talked. In fact, he rarely said anything about himself at all. Of course, that was true for all of the gang (especially Caine), but Elliot was certainly the least approachable of all of them. This was your chance to learn even more about him. Who knew if this kind of opportunity would ever pop up again?

"Elliot, if you only do fire shows once a year, then what do you do the rest of the time?"

He visibly winced. "Do you really need to know?"

"We've been living in the same house for three months and I still don't know what you go out and do every day. I'd like to know."

Another sigh. Elliot didn't meet your eyes as he leaned back and lit another match. "Sometimes I'm an arsonist for hire. Most of the time, though, I make bombs."

.................................

O.O (a)

I think I get it now. (b)

R-really? (c)

Damn. (d)

Holy crap! Is he serious?! (e)

.................................

And all of the sudden, it made sense to you. All those times you had unknowingly caused Elliot's mood swings, it had been because you asked about his work in some way. Where was he going? Why was he out so late? What was he doing? You studied the dark-haired boy sitting across from you. He stared at his match, obviously determined not to meet your gaze. He was ashamed. He felt guilty about what he did for a living, and your heart went out to him.

You recalled something you had learned in history class that might make him feel better. You weren't sure if Elliot already knew this, but you were going to repeat it to him anyway.

"You know Nobel? The guy who started the Peace Prize?"

Elliot looked up from his match and nodded, obviously confused as to why you were saying this.

"He was the one who invented dynamite. He felt that he had done a terrible thing, so he created the Nobel Peace Prize to award acts of goodness. It kind of made up for what he created, you know?

"Most people thought he was, but he wasn't a bad person, Elliot. He wasn't bad because he created dynamite. He was good, because he realized what he had done and did what he could to counteract it."

Elliot only stared at you for a moment, but then a weak smile spread over his face and he whispered, "Thanks."

..........................................

If you chose mostly b's...

Elliot

(a.k.a. Pyro)

Elliot watched _____ as she put her coat back on. He didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay with him as long as he was going to stay here. But he wasn't going to ask her. As much as he wanted her to stay, he didn't want her to be stuck out here in the cold. She should go back to the house where there were carpets and blankets and beds.

He appreciated her more today than he ever had before. She had listened to his entire story, heard what he did on a day-to-day basis, and she hadn't judged. She didn't get up and leave, didn't yell at him, and at the same time, didn't seem to pity him. He was grateful for her patience and understanding. He knew that he was a hard person to deal with, even on the best of days, and he found himself almost elated that she had made the effort not only to deal with him, but to learn more about him.

The mood swings had started sometime after his mother had left. He couldn't remember exactly how or exactly when it happened, but it became increasingly difficult to stay in control of his emotions. He started to find himself impossibly angry at the smallest things, red vision and all. Of course, by the time he realized that his anger wasn't necessarily justified, it was too late. By then, he had normally done some sort of irreparable damage. Nash had looked past this, had let Elliot in anyway. And how had he repaid his leader and friend? By being a total bastard, that's how.

By spilling everything to _____, he'd realized for himself what was going on. At the time, he hadn't realized how incredibly unbearable he was being. _____ had pointed this out to him, but instead of making him feel worse than he already did, she had made him feel better. How did she do that? He didn't know, but he was eternally grateful for it.

Until now, he had thought of her as another member of the household. "The girl." Somebody else to split the tank with, to look out for, to be civil towards. Now it was different. A reexamination of his heart revealed feelings of friendship. But at the same time, he cared for her more than that.

He said goodbye as she opened the warehouse door and unfolded her umbrella. Her smile in return seemed to warm him from within. He had a lot to think about.

If you chose mostly a's...

Caine

(a.k.a. Trigger)

_____ had been gone quite a while. That could mean one of two things: she had either found Elliot, or she was still out looking. He wouldn't put it past her to be out looking all day. She was a kindhearted person, something he truly appreciated about her. She wasn't so kind out of necessity or for personal gain, she was genuinely that way. That wasn't something Caine saw so often these days.

Still, he wished she was back at the house, if only for his peace of mind. He had become quite protective of her during the course of these last few months. Having her out of his sight made him restless, especially when he didn't know where she was. At least when she went to work with Warren and Tucker, he knew she was safe with them. Now that she was out looking for Elliot, she could be anywhere. Not that she wasn't capable of taking care of herself. She had proved that before the gang met her, but he still couldn't help but worry about her.

He was sure that his protective tendencies spawned from his feelings for her, which had been growing lately. He had always been somewhat intrigued by her, but now he found himself feeling much more than that. She was so much more than simply interesting.

So, to take his mind off _____'s safety, he decided to prepare a surprise for her. With Nash's permission, Caine took some money out of the tank and headed to Henderson's PUD, where he planned to pay the electricity bill. While he was there, he asked them to work out a system with him. As _____ had said when she found out about the lack of electricity, it made absolutely no sense to just stop paying the bill. Why not ask the PUD to only bill them a few months out of the year and turn their electricity off the rest of the time? So that's exactly what Caine did. Now they would only get billed November through March for electricity.

When he got back home, Caine turned on several lights, plugged in the fridge, and turned on the heater. _____ would be pleasantly surprised to come home to this, and Caine had to admit, he liked the electricity time of year as well. Now all he had to do was sit and wait for her to return.

If you chose mostly d's...

Nash

(a.k.a. Bandit)

Through her bedroom window, Nash had watched _____ leave several hours ago. She had most likely gone after Elliot, which he found both sweet and funny at the same time. She put up a tough façade, but she was a total softie. Still, none of his flirting ever seemed to get to her. He even called her "love" and she didn't seem fazed! Every girl loves being called "love," even if she'd never admit it! _____ didn't seem to be that way, though, which totally bewildered him.

He had hoped she'd be around the house today. He still felt out of sorts after kicking Elliot out and flirting with _____ would have helped a great deal in getting his mind off of it. All well. There was nothing he could do at this point except sit here and think. He'd told everybody to go ahead and take the day off work today, mostly because he himself didn't want to do any working.

So now he sat alone in _____'s room, wrapped in one of her blankets and staring out her windows at the rainy sky. He would be in his own room, but Warren kept shooting concerned glances at him, so he had retreated here. Besides, why not be in the room of the person he was thinking about? Nash wasn't normally one for introspection, but the combination of the rainy day and this morning's fight with Elliot had got him thinking. At first, he had been thinking about Elliot. But now he couldn't get his mind off _____.

His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.

Shedding _____'s blanket, Nash jogged down the stairs, making sure none of the other boys were visible before opening the door. He absently noted that the lights were on and that it was warmer in here than it had been earlier. Caine must be back from paying the bill.

Nash swung the door open to be met with a familiar sight. A man in a black suit stood before him. Nash recognized his face. This was the same guy who had come looking for _____ last time.

"Hello again," said the man rather pleasantly.

"Hello," said Nash in an equal tone.

"If you remember me, you'll remember why I'm here. I've had reported sightings of _____ _____ traveling to and from this house."

"Like I said last time, sir, I don't know anybody with that name and description."

"Then I'm sure you won't mind if I check things out?"

"Of course not. Come in."

If you chose mostly e's...

Warren

(a.k.a. Brain)

Warren stepped back from the railing as the man entered the house. This was the perfect time to let somebody in to look for _____, since she wasn't here, but that didn't mean he was comfortable with it. He stole quietly to her room and looked around. There was certainly evidence that a girl stayed in here. There wasn't anything he could do about the bedding (and that wasn't so feminine anyway), but he'd have to hide her clothes. He opened up one of the cardboard boxes that lined the room and stuffed her garments inside, covering them up as best as he could with the baby stuff that was already in there. It embarrassed him to touch her bras and panties, but it was all for a good cause and he knew she'd understand, though he hoped she would never bring it up.

Satisfied with the completion of the task, he sped over to Tucker's room, where the musician could be heard fiddling around on his guitar. After informing him of the situation, Warren headed downstairs, where he would do his best to help Nash.

"What's going on?" he asked casually and curiously when he spotted Nash in the dining room.

"Oh, hey," Nash played along. "Do you remember the guy I was telling you about a while ago? The one who was looking for a girl or whatever?"

"Yeah," said the pink-haired boy with a nod.

"This is him," said Nash, gesturing at the man in the suit. "He wants to check out the house."

"Oh. Well, I'll do my best to stay out of your way, then," said Warren to the man.

He headed to the kitchen to try and find something to do with his hands. He didn't want to appear nervous while the man was here. People who had done nothing wrong weren't nervous about somebody searching their house. As he searched for a deck of cards, Warren's mind traveled back to _____. Where was she? He hoped that she was far away. Since meeting her three months ago, he had grown quite fond of her and he didn't know what he would do if she were to be taken away from him. She didn't seem to be bothered at all by his shyness and stuttering and was one of the only girls he'd met (besides Georgia) who took interest in what he did with computers. Yes, she had certainly become a big part of his life, and at this point, he knew it was a good thing.

If you chose mostly c's...

Tucker

(a.k.a. Jazz)

Tucker glanced out the window to the rainy street and, not spotting _____'s familiar figure, started again on his trek around the living room. It had been two hours since the man in the suit had left the house. He had looked somewhat frustrated when leaving, though his smile was most definitely polite and his apology had certainly sounded sincere. Now Tucker was waiting for _____ to get back, pacing around the room in his worry.

He cared a lot about her, and that was a fact. He knew this feeling; he had felt it before, though definitely not so intensely. There was no denying it. He was rapidly falling in love with _____, if he had not already fallen. Just thinking of her made him happy, her smiles made his day, and touching her produced an electric sensation that he was becoming quite addicted to. Yeah, he had probably already fallen.

He glanced out the window again. No sign of _____. He sighed and restarted his circuit.

Nash was currently throwing a fit in the family room and Tucker knew what this meant: a whole bunch of new rules for _____. He could already think of four or five that Nash would probably add. _____ would not be thrilled. In fact, it was likely that she would fight Nash tooth and nail about these new rules. All well. It was his way of protecting her and though Tucker would handle it differently, he respected Nash's decisions.

When he next checked out the window, he spotted a figure with an umbrella, though it was still too far away to confirm the identity. Tucker held his breath until the figure came closer, and then he knew it was _____. Relief flooded through him and it was all he could do to keep himself from running out there right now. He had to wait until she came inside. It would be too conspicuous for him to go hurtling out to her like he wanted to.

When she came into the house and closed the door behind her, Tucker let himself go. A few running steps and he was to her, pulling her into his arms in a fierce hug and thanking everything that she was all right. It was obvious that she had no idea what this was about, for she patted him awkwardly on the back and coughed a couple of times. He didn't want to let go, but he did. He watched the other guys express their relief at her wellbeing, then helped them explain what had happened while she was gone.