Sometimes, it's Better to Forget Responsibility

Chapter 5

They managed to tidy up the house with ten minutes to spare. Giovanni made it clear that his mom was not expecting guests, so after they finished, Molly and Sylvie hid in the guest bedroom. Apparently, Giovanni's mom never goes in the room. She basically forgot it was there. As long as they were quiet, they wouldn't be caught.
Sylvie was curled up with one of his sheep on his lap. With one hand, he ran his fingers through the soft wool, something he often did without thinking. His other hand was laid out with his palm opened, with Lev perched there, standing tall like he was a guardian. His beady eyes seemed to scan over the room, back and forth and then back again, endlessly, like the vigil had been his only responsibility in life.
Sylvie looked down at the lizard, wondering what he might be thinking as he watched over the room. Lev looked so faithful and unshaking, as if he was standing his ground to an unseen opposition. Lev's head tilted a bit, and he looked at Sylvie and blinked, just for a second, and then continued to look around the room. Sylvie thought that, perhaps, Lev was trying to answer the questions in his own mind. Sylvie squeezed his eyes shut, dispelling the thought. Lizards could not understand human language, and they certainly could not understand something that had been thought instead of spoken. He didn't know why he had thought up something so childish.
Sitting a few feet away, Molly was laying on the floor on her stomach. She held her new book firmly in her hands, a big smile and wide eyes on her face. She was very clearly emersed. She had asked Sylvie politely if he could summon a sheep for her to cuddle with a well, and was now using hers as a pillow to rest her chin against as she read. The sheep didn't seem to mind, and Sylvie admitted to doing the same. Suddenly, the spell-like effect of reading lifted from her, because she felt like she was being watched. When she peeked over the top of her book, Lev blinked at her as if her surprised amused him, and then looked away. She thought it was funny, so she wasn't angry her reading had been interrupted.
She saw Sylvie was deep in his thoughts, as usual. He still seemed somewhat distraught. She grabbed her sheep and gave it a quick but tight hug. It looked up at her lazily and bumped its wooly head against her own gently. She grabbed her sheep and scooted up to Sylvie.
"Oh. Hey," Sylvie greeted her quietly. He looked towards her, but his eyes were distant, like he could see beyond her.
"You doing all right?" She asked.
"Yeah," he sighed, "I just wish..." He trailed off. What did he wish? That he was less childish, or that he didn't feel bad for being childish? Or, even more than that, did he wish someone would tell him it was ok to be childish? For the first time in his life, did he actually wish to be treated like a kid and act like other kids do? He had never wanted it before, so what changed?
"Oh no! I didn't mean to upset you!" Molly exclaimed.
Sylvie looked at her in surprise. "What?" Sure, he felt really bad, and way past confused, but she didn't upset him. ...Right?
"Sylvie," Molly said gently, "You're crying."
"I'm-" He mumbled to himself. Realization crossed his face as he put a shaky hand to his face and felt hot tears. "I'm crying." He turned to Molly. "Why am I crying?"
Molly looked at him in bewilderment. "How am I supposed to know?"
"I don't know. I'm so confused..." Sylvie sighed.
Molly put an arm around him. Sylvie tensed up at the touch, but then leaned into it with a discontented hum. He was slowly getting used to physical contact. "I don't know how to help, but if you tell me something I could to to help, I can try," She told him.
"The problem's me, I think," he murmured.
"How come you think that?" Molly asked, her eyes wide with worry.
He stuttered incoherently, struggling to find the right words. "I always seem to screw things up. When I'm talking to people, I mean. And how I treat myself. I think I realized, sometime with you guys, that I'm not okay."
Molly looked at the floor and nodded in understanding. "Sometimes it can be hard to take care of yourself," The sheep Sylvie had summoned for her earlier trotted over to her and began cuddling against her. It gave a concerned "Baa" at her. She stroked it's fleece. "But why do you think you're a bad friend?"
"Well, I guess I'm as bad at keeping friends as I am at making them," He explained, "Remember back at the museum? When we very first met?"
She nodded yes in response. How could she forget? The sheep, the fire, the spectacular appearance of Dr. Beefton... At the time, it had been terrifying, but in hindsight, it was, well, still terrifying, but also impressive. Sylvie managed everything so well, even if he had been defeated. He was strong, and yet, somehow, still fifteen years old.
It was quiet for a moment. "Why?" He asked, a little choked up, his voice quiet. "Why did you want to be my friend?"
"Why wouldn't I?" She asked.
"After everything I did to you?"
She looked down. She felt a twinge of guilt. At first, she had asked to be his friend out of convenience, because being on friendly terms with him would mean that they'd have a better chance at going up against Mera. She hadn't even really forgiven him for using his nightmare fuel on her until after he gave her his card. But afterwards, when the fight was over, she realized she really did want to be friends, especially after he saved her. Why would she withhold friendship from somebody who was willing to lose her epithet for her. He could have lost his epithet forever, and yet, for some reason, he'd rather it be him that her. Looking back, he was just really desperate for friends, and when he finally got one, he saw it was about to immediately be ripped from him, so he did whatever he could to stop that. Molly felt a horrible mix of emotions as it hit her. Sylvie would have rather lived his life without his epithet than lose the only friend he ever had- her.
"I couldn't not be your friend after you saved me," she answered finally, "You could've let her take my epithet, but you sacrificed yours."
"It's not a big deal," he mumbled, "I got it back."
"Not a big deal?" She exclaimed, "How is that not a big deal? I can't even imagine what that was like!"
Sylvie was quiet. Softly, he answered, "It was like being empty. Weak. It wasn't like being me but with less sheep, it was like I didn't know who I was."
Molly gave him a hug, Lev quickly scurrying away before he could be crushed. "So it wasn't 'not a big deal' huh?"
Suddenly, his emotions seized him. He hugged back, for the first time in his life noticing he liked being hugged, wishing it had happened more often before he had a friend to hug him. Tears streamed down his face. Luckily, he was quiet crier, because too much noise would have alerted Giovanni's mother, who was certainly home by now. "Thank you," he whispered, not entirely coherently, to Molly, over and over again. "Thank you."
Molly held onto him until he had no more tears to cry. When he looked up, he saw there were tears in her eyes too. "You know, while we're talking about the museum..." she muttered, "After Mera took your epithet, and then threw you like that- You looked really not good and you weren't moving. I thought, maybe you had- Well, I think you get it."
"Well, I'm glad I didn't." He chuckled a little bit, in spite of himself.
"I don't know what I'd do," she continued, "If someone died trying to save me. I've already lost too much."
Now it was his turn to hug her, except he didn't quite know how. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her. Was he doing this right? He figured it was too late to try again and do better because she had begun to cling to his hoodie and cry into it. She was trying to be quiet, but she wasn't nearly as quiet a crier as he was.
"You could have lost your Epithet because of me," She squeaked between sobs, "You could've died! And it would have been my fault."
"I can hardly see how it was your fault," he told her, his voice wavering as the frightening reality that she was right- he could've died -sunk in, "Mera was the one who did it."
"You didn't have to," She whispered, "You didn't have to, but you did it for me. I don't get it."
Sylvie stopped to think of how to tell her all the reasons why he did it. He couldn't just let it happen, he was sure Mera was going to take his epithet one way or another (she had already tried to), Molly was just too nice for him to let her epithet get taken, he didn't want to lose his only friend... All the reasons popped up in his mind, and yet he felt unable to articulate a single one of them. "You don't have to understand," Sylvie settled on telling her, "Just believe me when I say I don't regret it."
"I regret it."
"Don't," he suggested bluntly.
"Easier said than done," she said, laughing through her tears a tiny bit.
"With what I did before, with my nightmare fuel, if I hadn't done anything, I think I'd be an irredeemable friend," he admitted.
"Either way, I would have forgiven you," She promised faintly, her tears finally starting to wane.
"I wouldn't have," he confessed.
Molly stares at him with big, sad eyes. It was the stare of someone who was feeling hurt for you. Overwhelming empathy, something he was a little too familiar with. "You forgive yourself now, right?" She asked.
Sylvie thought for a moment. "Not completely," he admitted, "But someday, I will."
Molly modded. "It's a start. As long as you're trying. And as long as you forgive yourself someday."
He sniffled. If he hadn't already cried until he burnt himself out, he would have started crying again.
"This hug is really awkward," Molly told him with a tearful giggle.
He shrunk away. "Sorry, I knew it'd be bad, I just-"
She shooshed him. "Here," she said, wrapping him in a nice hug, "Like this."
He hugged back. "Yeah. This is better."
Giovanni suddenly swung the door open, "Good news, guys. My mom and her gal pals are having a little girls night, so-" he stopped short when he saw the two, holding each other tightly like their lives depended on it (although neither Sylvie nor Molly had noticed just how tight the hug was). He saw tears still dripping down Molly's face, and that Sylvie had very obviously been crying as well. "Oh, you two," Giovanni muttered softly.
He joined them, pulling both of them into a significantly softer but equally loving hug. He didn't need to ask what had happened. He just wanted to be there for them. He was starting to realize that all he ever wanted was to be there for them. It was like destiny had brought these kids to him. He needed them, and they needed him. He felt his own eyes begin to burn, but he held back the tears for their sake.