Accidents Made Right 1: Pistanthrophobia

The following morning

I opened my eyes, waking up to the sound of knocking on the door. With a groan, I said loudly “Come in.”

The door swung open, but it strangely wasn't being held. Then, Rowan walked in, stepping over Matthew and Elijah, still sleeping in their sleeping bags, and went up to me.

I felt a strange, random feeling of anxiety, like that kind you get when someone invites you to a party but you don’t like mingling with people… except I’ve never had that much anxiety meeting new people.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up before stretching.

“I-I wanted to… talk. R-Rob, w-was your n-name? I-I need… advice, and y-you seem to be the b-best person for this kind of thing.”

Still stretching my large muscles, I replied “Alright… this about your dad?”

Rowan was taken aback, “H-How did you…”

I stopped stretching, and sat my arms to my sides. “I can see it in your eyes. I can tell when someone’s about to do something they don’t want to.”

Rowan started rubbing his arm, before taking slow deep breaths. As he did this, I stood up, and went to the corner of the room opposite of Rowan, which had what resembled a small kitchen, with a stove on top of an oven, a microwave built into the wall above the stove, and several cupboards on either side of the oven.

I pulled out one of the drawers in the left cupboard, and grabbed some French toast and a pack of bacon. At the same time, maroon tendrils shot out of my back, pulled open a drawer in the other cupboard, and grabbed some milk, a pan, and other things I’d need for cooking a delicious breakfast for my kids.

“I-I’m… I don’t w-want to hurt my father… e-especially if, somehow… we c-can redeem him.”

I sighed, and turned completely around; more tendrils shooting out of my back to continue what my hands were doing.

“Daddy issues. Well, you should try to determine whether he can be redeemed… but if not, then you need to drop him. People like that don’t deserve love.”

“B-But… everybody d-deserves love…”

I stopped every motion, the only sound filling the room being the sizzling of bacon on the pan and the rustling of my kids who would be waking soon.

Then, after about a minute, I continued cooking.

“Look, I was trying to let you off easy… but do you have any idea what your father took for me? Do you have even the slightest idea of the heavenly sensation of love? You don’t just take that away from someone…”

…

“I-I think I do…”

Weirdly faster than I was used to, the first batch of bacon was finished, so, going with it, I reached straight into the still sizzling pan, picking up the bacon with barely a tickle from the heat, and placed them on a paper plate with a paper towel. Then, I grabbed the French toast, and put them in another pan which contained ingredients Elizabeth had taught me that improved the texture and taste.

To think, I could live longer than all of human civilization, and I still end up being taught so much by just one woman…

Yeah. Love’s a weird thing. Some things we can only learn when we’re with the one we’re destined for.

“Destined” for is kind of a stretch. After all, she’s dead, and I still have many more years of living to go, assuming I ever die.

Then, Rowan’s beating heart sped up, reminding me someone was talking to me.

“Well, I won’t claim to know exactly what happened last night between you two, or even if you’re dating yet or not… but I will say this. Things won’t get much easier. Some challenges you’ll face will be far worse than this.”

“Y-Yeah…”

I turned around, knowing the French Toast would be down in just a couple seconds, so I had a single tendril slither its way up to the dial for the stove’s heat, waiting for the command to turn it off.

I looked at Matthew and Elijah, lost in thoughts about the time I’d get to spend with them.

In an instant, Matthew was standing up, drooling with the desire for bacon.

“H-Heh… guess a love of b-bacon runs in the family,” Rowan joked.

I proceeded to the left cabinet, pulled out a strangely still cold beer can, and pulled the pop-top clean off, and started sipping the drink. I took a deep gulp, then leaned my arms back. For a second, I saw a transparent woman with a red rose birthmark on her neck, floating a couple inches off the ground behind Rowan.

“Hey… Elijah… wake up. It’s time for breakfast,” Matthew whispered to his brother, who rolled over with a stubborn grumble.

…

“He made bacon.”

“Bacon?!”

Elijah shot up, and within a blink, and a trail of yellow electricity behind them, Matthew and Elijah ran up to the counter, drooling like begging puppies.

I turned the heat for the French toast off, and warned “Not yet. The toast still hasn’t cooled yet.”

I don’t know why I always said that when they were young. It’s not like a bit of heat would hurt them. Their bodies had to be strong enough against heat to use electricity like they do.

“So… what was it like living on a farm with Steve?” I asked Rowan.

“I-I… how…”

“Dylan, Issac and I had a long conversation yesterday. They told me everything that happened between you two recently… though they left out a couple details probably essential details.”

“W-Well… um… it was difficult. W-We had nobody to talk to except ourselves…”

Rowan was silent for a second, and I could only assume Pemo was reminding Rowan he was there too.

“B-But aside from the… d-difficulties… we had a lot of fun. We l-leaned a lot about e-each other.”

I looked up at the ceiling, thinking about the only memories I still had about my parents… including that day.

Rowan leaned over to make sure I saw him, and said “Y-You okay?”

“Yeah, just… thinking. I absolutely hate how I know so much about my powers, my emotions, and who and what I value… but yet I know so little about where I can from. I only have three memories. Three.”

“O-Oh… do you… a-are you okay with telling about them? I-If not I totally understand…”

“I’ll share the first two. The third… I refuse to relive that day. I can’t…”

I took a deep breath, then used the time I spent gathering myself afterward to think of what to say. Then… I spoke.

“I remember being called… a hybrid. A mix between… what I think was called a Grim Reaper and… a Knuman?”

A single drop of sweat crawled down Rowan’s forehead.

“And… for the other memory… was my birth. I remember being born and gaining that… peculiar name… but the memory is so vivid. It has to be real.”

“W-What name?”

No… that will never be my name… I won’t ever let it be so.

There was another awkward silence, which lasted for about half a minute, before Steve stepped through the open doorway.

Matthew, gulping the last and only bit of bacon he took, twisted his head 180 degrees to stare at Steve, before saying “Finally! How are you the protagonist if I’ve barely seen you?!”

Shaking his head confused, Steve ignored him, saying “Hey. Rob. The team has a briefing waiting for you downstairs.”

Hearing this, I stood up to leave the room.

“W-What about me?”

“I… I need to talk to you. Privately.”

If they don’t fuck now, I’m gonna… oh, shit, right. There’s no sex in this book. XD