“Wake up! Wake up!” Pax and his cousins come bounding into Pebble’s room. Her eyes snap open with a start. She unclenches the knife beneath her pillow at the sound of children’s voices.
“Auntie Peb, are you still asleep?” Pax asks, poking her cheek. She counts to three before rolling over and throwing her arms around him. Caught by surprise, the five year old squeals in delight. She tickles him until he can’t breath, then sets her sight on the other children.
They laugh and play around until Mustang is suddenly at the door. She clears her throat, bifocals resting on the edge of her nose.
“Don’t you think we should let Auntie Pebble get some breakfast first before we demand her time?”
“NO!” One of the kids yells, which only make Pebble giggle harder. Mustang rolls her eyes, knowing that when you argue with the child you’ve already lost.
“Alright, but there’s banana and chocolate pancakes in the Library. Get ‘em while they’re hot!” She says, gesturing down the hall. The kids scamper off immediately, save for Pax. The boy knows he’s special, and stays after to spy on adults since he’s allowed.
“I found this in a box of things the other day. I thought…” Mustang pauses, clears her throat again, and smiles. “I thought you might like it.”
Pebble takes the poorly wrapped gift. Mustang may be a fantastic battle strategist but she could not fold paper to save her life. Tearing it open, Pebble is momentarily stunned by what she’s holding. Pax, her gentle giant, stares out. On his lap sits Sophocles, mouth open for a jelly bean. Pax is laughing, smile wide, at whoever is behind the camera. This is the way Pebble loves remembering him.
“We were hunting the week before the Institute, when that was taken. That was… An eternity now.” Mustang says, voice soft. She misses her adoptive brother daily. Pebble wraps her arms around Mustang. They stand there holding each other for a long minute. Grief washes over them in waves. Quietly, Pebble murmurs, “He should be here.”
“He should, and it’s a tragedy he isn’t.” Mustang replies, wiping a stray tear. “I have the copy, that’s the original. His…his handwriting is on the back. It’s atrocious, but every little thing matters, right?”
“Right.” Pebble says, more than a little overwhelmed. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“It’s what he would have wanted, to be remembered for who he was. Bright, wonderful. Loud.”
They both laugh, making their way to the library, the largest room in the compound. Floor to ceiling bookcases line the two stories. A stained glass dome sends technicolor rays over everything. Windows look upon the expansive garden outside. Darrow and Sevro stand by the door as she comes in.
“Well, hello birthday girl!” Darrow chirps, she has always wondered what makes him such a chipper person this damn early. He sets a tin foil crown on her head. Beads have been hot glued to the sides. Darrow says, “The kids made it with some help from me.”
“It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“Morning Pebs, you look like a queen.” Servo says with a wry grin as baby Pax beelines for her. “Like your wake up call?”
“I much prefer breakfast, but I suppose this’ll do.” She replies, scooping baby Pax up to peck him on the cheek. “Run to Papa, now.”
Pax wheels towards Darrow with a cry, clinging to his pants. Years ago, Pebble could never picture him as father. By now they found he was quite fond of children.
“There’s the birthday girl!” Victra calls, storming into the room and sweeping her friend into a hug. Pebble hasn’t seen her in weeks, not since she was head of a recon mission that took longer than expected. Sevro was ecstatic she was back. He’d been moping about all week and now stuck to her side. It was sweet.
Pebble returns the hug, asking, “How was the mission?”
“Oh, that? I don’t want to talk about it. All a bloodydamn mess.” Victra mutters, shaking her head. “Here! I couldn’t help myself. The Outer moons have some of the best creatures, don’t ask me why.”
“Specifically bred that way.” Darrow says with a wink that earns him a playful slap. As if the Society hadn’t done it all. Victra pulls a blue box from her back. Little galaxies are printed on the bow. She practically shoves it onto Pebble’s lap with enough excitement to match little Pax’s.
Carefully, she opens it, not quite sure what to expect. Last year, Victra had gotten Mustang a vibrator for her birthday, with a card that read: for when the reaper won’t sow.
Victra thought she was clever.
Instead, Pebble finds a gorgeous set of amythest earrings, and a silk scarf painted with waves and stars. Pebble can barely thank her before Darrow’s thrusting another at her. Then the rest of the Howler’s have one thing or another, and it descends into chaos quickly. She’d never have it any other way.
