Chapter Text
“Come on Dragons! You got this!” Ian whooped.
He couldn't remember the last time he and Barley had gone to a game together. The last definite one was when Barley was in 9th grade and won the State Wrestling Heavyweight Championship, but there could have been more after that. Ian couldn't really remember. He was most likely hiding in the band room away from all the noise.
Thus, Ian hadn't fully realized how much fun it was.
Colt and Laurel were in the next town over on a night out with friends, and Barley actually suggested they go see the game. “Finals are over, my man! Treat yourself!” was his excuse.
It wasn't normally Ian's type of crowd- a month ago, anything with a face would have scared the daylights out of him.
Now, things were different and Ian couldn't have been happier.
The crowd cheered as the Dragons scored another basket against their sworn enemy, the Gorgonville Redcaps. The timer ticked down to halftime, the crowd roared, and the Lightfoot brothers were entirely prepared for victory against the Redcaps.
Just as the buzzer went off the Dragons' captain, Leo Hackney, leaped over one of the Redcaps and shot for one last basket.
“And that ends the second quarter! Dragons, 16, Redcaps, 10!”
Ian and Barley cheered and whistled as both teams came off the court.
“16 to 10, we got this.” Barley declared with confidence as he straightened his vest.
“Oh totally.” Ian chirped. He opened his mouth to continue when his stomach growled. A faun walked by with a bag of popcorn and only then did Ian remember he skipped lunch in order to study.
“You hungry? I'd kill for a hot dog right about now.” he quipped.
Barley flashed Ian a big smile and hopped up. “Oh yeah, absolutely! Onward, dear brother! Sustenance awaits!” he declared loudly and trotting off. One month ago, Ian would have been utterly mortified. But now, the odd looks from the crowd around them were nonexistent and Ian had the issue of hunger more at the front of his mind than he did with worrying about the opinion of strangers.
Ian followed Barley down the bleachers into the cafeteria where his history teacher Mr. Snowfire was working along with some alumni Barley recognized from his old speech class.
“Hey Mr. S! Albus, my guy, how are you doing this lovely eve?” Barley greeted. Mr. Snowfire returned the gesture.
“Hey Barley, Ian! I'm doin' well, how are you and Ian doing?” the centaur with white fur replied, already assembling a pair of hot dogs.
“Pretty good, Mr. Snowfire.” Ian replied, placing his cash on the counter. “Two bags of popcorn and two hot dogs, please.”
Barley had gone over to get them a couple bottles of tea to drink when he felt the need to use the restroom.
“Ian, I'll be right back, I gotta use the little raider's room.”
Ian nodded. “Make it quick, we don't wanna miss the halftime show!”
He turned back to order a little extra something for Barley: A bag of cheese puffs.
It was perhaps a bit inappropriate to be so sentimental over a bag of snacks that tasted like styrofoam, but the memory of floating down a river on a giant cheese puff was one Ian cherished.
“Mr. Lightfoot?”
Ian hadn't realized he'd spaced out and snapped to attention when his teacher said his name.
“9 dollars, please.” Mr. Snowfire totaled, taking the cash Ian had handed him.
“Right, sorry Mr. Snowfire. Just a little spaced out.” Ian replied awkwardly.
Mr. Snowfire put the snacks in a paper bag, except for the popcorn and counted out Ian's change.
Ian had only just grabbed his change when a bloodcurdling scream came from the restroom.
There was a collective gasp from the people milling about the cafeteria when Barley tore out of the restroom and slammed the door closed as quickly as he could. He held the door closed, his knuckles white as he gripped the door's frame. For but a split moment the crowd around them thought it was a trick, but when the sound of something shrieking and snarling and pounding and clawing the other side of the door, they were far less cynical.
“Someone call security!” Ian called, forgetting all about the snacks and rushing toward Barley to help him hold the door shut.
“Stay back!” he snarled.
Barley never got that angry.
“Barley, what's happening?!” Ian demanded over the cacophony of eldritch shrieks.
“Just stay back! Everyone stay back!” Barley repeated, pushing all of his weight against the door. Even that might not be enough to keep it closed.
Security arrived and tried to pull Barley off the door, but the man was pushing against it so hard that nobody could do so. He fought against the officers with the desperation of a caged chimera and immediately rushed back to the door to keep it shut.
He kept repeating 'Stay back, stay back,' begging people not to go into that bathroom, and one of the guards asked Barley what was in there.
Barley turned to the officer with wide, frightened eyes. “Boggart.” he croaked.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
“How on earth did a Boggart get into the school?”
“I dunno!”
“Aren't they the things that turn into your worst fear?”
“Yeah, I think so!”
Ian's stomach dropped. He was helpless to do anything and couldn't get any closer to Barley due to the growing crowd and the security officers, but he could see in his brother's face that he was full-on panicking.
Gray skin, white knuckles, sweat rolling down his face... Ian knew that look. He knew that feeling.
A cyclops officer called for animal control to come to the school and began to disperse the crowd.
Diverting his attention from the people milling about, Ian carefully approached his sibling.
“Sorry kid, we're gonna have to peel this guy off the door if we're gonna get that Boggart out.” the officer said as he stepped between Ian and Barley.
“Officer please, that's my brother!”
“Look, kid I know you're worried- Hey!”
Ian slipped past the officer and up to Barley.
“Barley? Barley, look at me.” he coaxed, but Barley didn't move. Now that he was close, he could see that Barley looked a mess.
There was desperation on his face, his skin ghastly white and covered in sweat. His hair clung to his forehead in sweaty strings, and his knuckles were so white that the untrained eye could have mistaken them for bare bone.
“Ian..?”
His voice was small, frightened.
Scared.
This wasn't right. Barley didn't get scared.
His gaze moved to meet Ian's. Once again, Ian saw nothing but raw terror in its purest form.
“Animal control is on the way, they'll get that thing out but you have to let go of the door.” Ian replied.
Barley furiously shook his head.
“No! If I let go of the door it'll escape!” he protested, but Ian put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
Then Barley said something that made Ian's heart lurch.
“It looked at me. It knows.”
He didn't need to clarify.
Another loud shriek on the other side of the door filled their ears and again, Barley put every ounce of strength into keeping that door closed.
“Barley, I don't know what you saw but you can't keep that door shut forever!” Ian pleaded. He opened his mouth again to further beg Barley to calm down, but the approach of animal control stopped him.
The leader of the animal control team, a stocky elf with big eyebrows and a mustache similar to Colt's, stepped forward.
“This the room with the Boggart?” he asked in a monotonous grumble.
Ian nodded.
“Yes sir. My brother saw it in there and he's been holding the door shut ever since.”
The elf nodded and motioned for his team, who approached carrying a large pet cage covered in a sheet.
“Alright son, I'm gonna need ya to step away from the door.” he stated to Barley.
Barley frantically shook his head.
“We know how to capture these things, son. Step away from the door.”
“You don't wanna see what's in there.”
“Barley-” Ian protested.
“Please. If it gets out and looks at me again-”
His voice quivered just enough for the pure terror to be made clear.
“Then close your eyes, son. Can't be that bad.”
Barley froze and scowled at the leader. “Don't patronize me.”
He reluctantly changed his hold on the door.
“Ian, get behind me and close your eyes. Do not let that thing see your eyes.” Barley warned.
Ian did as Barley said and positioned himself behind his sibling.
The leader nodded. “On three.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
Barley yanked the door open and the team burst inside.
There was a full second of silence before the air was filled with commotion, screeching, and unintelligible shouts, various four-letter curse words and a furious snarl from the beast.
After minutes, the team managed to capture the Boggart and trap it in the carrier.
It took them just as long to convince Barley it was safe.
Barley took a seat on a nearby bench, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of his mouth.
Statements were taken, the game finished, but Barley didn't move from that bench.
“That screw-up again?” Ian heard someone comment.
He snapped his head around and gave them a nasty look. “That's my brother, and he's not a screw-up, so don't call him one.” he snapped.
The commenter, a faun named Peter that Ian regularly butted heads with (so to speak) in his math class, stepped away.
Ian watched them until they left the building and returned to the bench where Barley was seated.
“Hey, people are leaving. We-”
He had barely gotten close to his brother when he was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. Barley buried his face into Ian's shirt; When Ian protested, Barley spoke and Ian's heart ripped in half.
“Please don't say anything.”
Ian wrapped his arms around Barley's shoulders and held him tight. He didn't know what to do or say as the larger elf's shoulders began to shake and muffled sobs slipped out.
That was the first time Ian had ever heard Barley cry.