Since chocolate was being such a bully to poor Nepgear, I decided that she needed something to balance it out. Then this came out a little sad, too, but I think I like the catharsis of it. Next one will completely lack srsbsns, I promise.
Talking Hugging It Out
Your bed isn't uncomfortable. It's not comfortable, either, but it fails to give you any impetus to move to a new location. So you don't.
The bed protests as a shadow engulfs you. You don't look up, but this shadow makes you feel safe, in a distant, muted sort of way. It's a feeling that deserves some kind of response, so you allow gravity to pull you towards Gabriel's side.
"Hey," she says. "Rough week, huh?"
That, on the other hand, isn't worth any acknowledgement. You are absolutely not in the mood to be cheered up; you never are, when you need it the most. Which should some kind of hint, but you're not in the mood for taking hints either.
"Uh oh," someone else says. You open your eyes to see that it was Mike talking, awkwardly leaning against his bed in a crouch. Sam and James were there, too. When did they get there? "Someone else take over, she's crashing and burning already."
That's a little unfair, you think. Gabriel was just doing her best. She wraps an enormous arm, terrifying in it gentleness, around your shoulder. Almost against your will, you raise your head.
"Anastasia," James says. You could hug him for that already; you weren't feeling like a Nepgear right now. You weren't feeling much of anything, now that the monsters were all dead and even your hate shrunk to a directionless simmer. You stare at James, and you aren't sure what he sees in return but it must be something because he remains silent.
As you haven't spoken in the past hour, you decide to keep your thoughts to yourself just a bit longer.
You try not to dwell on the helplessness you felt, surrounded by darkness and fear with your own mind turned against you. It's surprisingly easy, though your nightmares might disagree. It will never happen again; you're indestructible now, for all that you can still be hurt.
The pain that had been inflicted upon you by… the Spawn of Mayhem, first, had filled you with thoughts of revenge since the instance you had become a magical girl. Even without Rei, you're sure you would have fought the Unified Darkness one way or another, for all that your desire for vengeance rarely intersected with your daily life. But there had always been a note of conflict in that. Your motives weren't pure. Shouldn't a magical girl be better than that? Shouldn't a person be better than that?
Keeping his gaze on your face, James continues. "I know it's the cliché thing to say that words aren't enough, but I disagree. I think they can help." He leans forward. "I'll start with this; we saved the world."
Heh. Even if you couldn't save your sister, there was still that. Such a victory could only be tainted so much by suffering. You had learned something, too.
It wasn't a just a Spawn of Mayhem anymore, or a Nightmare. The Unified Darkness were the bad guys, as you'd been told your whole life. You never questioned it, either, because duh. They'd invaded your planet and ruined your life, just like so many sacked countries and broken lives throughout history.
Well. Not exactly. The desperate wickedness in the human heart was nothing compared to the evil that ate them, you had come to believe. There were people like your friends, who were good and noble and true. There were people like San, who had done bad things, even monstrous things, maybe. Then there were monsters, and monsters needed to die.
Because there were too many people that needed to be saved, if nothing else, James would never be wrong about that.
"Yes," Samael nods vigorously. "What he said."
"Thank you," you say. You resolve is greater than ever, you think, and that means you're just a bit less faded. Being told you're a hero doesn't do much for your mood, though. It's having friends that care enough to tell you that makes the difference. You can't tackle-hug them with Gabriel's arm around you, and you wouldn't do it regardless. That kind of enthusiasm wouldn't be as genuine as it deserved to be right now.
Absolutely nothing restrains you from adding surprise affection ambushes to your mental checklist, though. When you're feeling better.
Mike shakes his head, but he's smiling. "Start? That was like, four words. Hey, Gabriel, I liked your story better. Tell it again."
So you learn how an angel was born. The world is huge, full of countries and ideas and so many people that they aren't people anymore. You've only seen parts of it. But you've been on a school bus before, with stuffing peeking from broken leather and whatever it was that made the back seat the most desirable. Someone's sister could be riding in a school bus, you think, and you saved one.
As Gabriel finishes her story, you squeeze her arm and stand up. You don't particularly want to go anywhere, but you especially don't want to keep sitting on your bed. It's a bit of a relief that you don't have to decide.
"So, what do you guys want to do?" you ask.
Mike hauls himself to his feet as the other two climb off of their beds. "Well," Sam says, "I heard there's some cantaloupe in the cafeteria today. I mean, I hate cantaloupe, but if that's your thing… also there's fries."
That startles a laugh out of you. And, no matter how unexpected, laughs mean that there's no excuse to skimp on the hugs. So you tackle him, giving him no chance to resist. Then you bounce to Gabriel, and her timid hug gives way to a more crushing one.
As Sam slides back up, James wraps you in a team GEAR sandwich. Mike smirks at you from near the doorway.
Mike, you think, is one of those people who acts like they don't like hugs. He's also probably a person who legitimately isn't really a hugger, but he puts up with it because you're sad and adorable.
The cantaloupe is actually nothing worth mentioning. Neither is the rest of your day. You're just a perfectly average Magical Girl team with an angel on it doing perfectly average things, and it's exactly what you need. You aren't bursting with happiness, but you're content and you're safe.
As you collapse on your bed that night, shifting to find a more comfortable spot, you hear the thumps and creaks of your teammates, your friends, doing the same. It's dark, and you don't really feel like you should be smiling so soon, but your lips are curled regardless.
It's not good. It's not even all that okay.
But it's better, and tomorrow's a new day.
