Have I Met You Before?

Author's Note: This is another one of those old fics, but this one is definitely still compliant with my canon. Ariel's owned by me, and so is Oma, but Raider is Zena's creation!!! I'm also not editing this one either just to keep it as it was. Please enjoy.

The sound of someone barging into Ariel’s dorm room uninvited wasn’t a new one; he was overly used to all sorts of strange people waltzing in whenever his back was turned. Heaven knows the shirt he found in his laundry last month wasn’t Kim’s. (How it got there, though, remained a mystery.)

Still, it was a more comforting sight, if that turn of phrase could be used, to see Oma there, all in a tizzy. “What’s the matter?” He asked, just to fulfill his daily quota for politeness.

“My computer!” She wailed, tugging at her pigtails for good measure. “My school computer is on the fritz and I don’t want to engage the nerds alone, but I can’t find Humphrey and the others had plans, so you’re my only option!”

Ariel’s eye twitched. “Your only option for what?” It felt appropriate to feign ignorance in the face of such a ridiculous request.

“Look, just come with me! There’s this dude I sort of know who comes highly recommended, but I don’t want to deal with that by myself. Please, Ariel?” Oma got down on one knee, clasping her hands together in order to make her begging reach comical heights. “Hey, I’ll even owe you one!”

Ariel would be the first person to admit that his friend knew how to sweeten the pot in just the right way to get people to agree to things. “Fine.” He huffed, pretending to be put out about it. “But don’t expect to weasel out of whatever favor I ask, got that?”

Oma smiled in a self-satisfied manner. “Oh, don’t worry about that. You know I keep my word.”

“As if!” Ariel scoffed. “Why, last week-”

“Oh please.” She waved her hand, interrupting him. “That’s all blood under the bridge anyway. Ancient history! Let’s live in the now! Like how we’re going to find Raider now before I break out into hives.”

It took an unholy amount of effort to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. “Alright, whatever. Time to find your man.”

Raider...

I’ve never met someone named Raider ''before. Wonder what he’s like.''

Some would be unnerved by how quickly Oma tracked Raider’s whereabouts down. Some would, in fact, wonder if his phone had more unusual contacts than any teenager had a right to have.

Some people were not Ariel Rucker.

Being used to her antics and rapid information gathering, the event felt a bit like a normal Tuesday when it began to take its shape. Truth be told, he was bored. Walking to one of their school’s mass-media rooms from where his dorm was situated landed solidly in the camp of tedium. It didn’t help that Ariel had absolutely no interest in whatever problem her poor laptop had.

Oma no doubt knew that from his disgruntled facial expressions, but he refrained from commenting. “Okie dokie, Peregrine said he was playing some stupid computer game.” He reported, all chipper, as they neared the entrance of the room in question. “Try and behave for me?”

Instead of answering, Ariel wrinkled his nose in her direction.

“Good enough!” Oma said with a shrug, grinning widely. Her braces glinted in the light. “Gentlemen first.”

The room was unusually full for a Tuesday afternoon. Apparently, today was the day for mingling. Guess I missed that memo. Ariel thought, jaw working away at some gum. What a damn shame.

“Oh! There he is!” Oma tugged roughly on his arm, ignoring his hiss of protest. “Hurry! Before he leaves!”

“How could he leave without us noticing, dumbass?” Ariel snapped back. “We’re literally right in front of the door!”

His friend sent him an annoyed glare. “Well, look who woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning! All you have to do is pretend to be civil, Ariel; it’s not the end of the world.”

I am not going to dignify that with an answer.

Before he knew it, they were standing behind a random blonde boy, who was thoroughly immersed in the delights of whatever computer game he had up and running. “Raider Espouse, I presume?” Oma tapped his shoulder lightly. She was probably trying to be funny, which was exactly like her to do when she was worried about something technological.

The pause symbol showed up on his screen. “Yeah? That’s me.” The aforementioned and ‘highly recommended’ Raider swiveled in his seat, light bouncing off of his glasses’ frames. A lazy smile slid onto his face. “Can’t say I recognize you two though.”

Their eyes met.

(Once, Ariel’s mother warned him about gut feelings.

“You should always trust your intuition.” She told him, smile tight and eyes dull. “If only I had listened to my aunt, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

He never quite knew if he and his father were included in her definition of ‘things’.)

He liked to think that he had good intuition. The right sort of people felt nice to be around. There were no twinges, no aches, nothing that let him know about any hidden malicious intent. The wrong sort of people made him nauseous; his stomach would churn itself into a frenzy, and it only occurred if they made eye contact.

At that moment, when their eyes met, Ariel’s gut screamed.

Raider’s face fell. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Each concerned word was a barb to his chest. Oma made a noise of agreement, peering at whatever pained expression he must have made.

“I’m… I’m sorry. My stomach…” He winced a bit for emphasis. “Please excuse me.” Without waiting for an answer, he beat a tactical retreat.

Ariel Rucker did not do fleeing. It was inconceivable because Ariel Rucker wasn’t a coward!

(Standing in the hallway outside Oma’s room, hand over his mouth, didn’t feel like an overly brave thing to be doing though.)

She appeared a few minutes later, brow furrowed with worry. “What’s wro-”

“His story.” Ariel cut her off.

“What?”

“Raider’s story. What. Is. His. Story.”

Oma shot him an odd look before starting to type away at her phone. “I know I said I’d do a favor for you, but this is sort of a waste, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care!” Ariel advanced on her. “What is it?!?”

“Okay, okay! Jeez! Raider Espouse… Raider Espouse… There he is. Look, Ariel, there’s nothing to worry about! He’s-” Oma faltered. He had never seen such a pronounced look of shock on her face before. “He’s… Um. I think you should take a look at this.”

Ariel took the phone, the mere action feeling like it took an entire year. “Why?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Is something off?”

“You… could say that.”

And there it was. The three damning words. The three nails in his coffin. His worst fear was all laid out in tidy 12pt Times New Roman.

“I mean, he is part of your story.”