FIGMENT

By Wes Leigh

 

This is a work of wild fantasy intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. This story involves romance and sex between adult men as well as between men and teens and preteens, some incestual. If you are uncomfortable with any of this, please choose another story. This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.

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Chapter Six

 

͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠

Aestar linte feer intalle ha. Thiramen elavil feer ava'to ni'ha.

(Sexual) love sets us gloriously free. (A soulmate's) love leaves us joyfully bound.

͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠

I woke up the next morning with Figment using my belly as his pillow, drooling as he slept. Drew was on my left side, poking my hip with a very hard boy boner. Trace was behind Drew, spooning him with a big smile on his face. Trace seemed to be having a happy dream, because he was moaning softly and slowly humping Drew's butt.

I sniffed the air. The enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee was drifting into the bedroom, and that must have been what woke me up.

I carefully disentangled myself from the sleeping boys and slipped off the bed. Wandering down the hall, wiping sleep from my eyes, I stopped first in the bathroom to pee, then continued on to the kitchen.

Rick sat at the table, naked. He looked up when I came in and motioned toward a chair. "Have a seat. Coffee will be ready in a few."

As I slid into a chair, Rick placed a hand on my bare knee. "Did you sleep good?"

I nodded. "Uh huh, which surprises me because I'm not accustomed to having so many bed partners."

He chuckled. "I am. It's not often they all get in bed with me, but there's usually one or two. You get used to it."

I smiled. I had felt safe, loved, and secure all night. No matter where I turned, there was a warm body pressed against me and soft arms wrapped around me. To be honest, I thought I could learn to enjoy sleeping that way.

The coffee maker spurted and finished percolating the last drop of coffee into the carafe. Rick walked to the counter and poured two cups, then carried them back to the table. As he added creamer and sugar to his, he said, "I want you to know how much I appreciate all you've done for my family, Caleb."

I started to protest, but he stopped me. "You know it's because of you that Figment started talking again. I don't know what magic spell you wove, but you're the reason he opened up last night. For the first time in years."

"I don't know what spell it was, either. I guess he just decided he was ready to talk."

Rick shook his head. "I think there's more to it than that. He adores you, Caleb. He has from the start, and you've made him feel special by asking him to help you with D&D." Rick stirred his coffee, deep in thought, and asked, "How long have you loved him?"

I was caught off guard by that question. Shrugging, I replied, "I'm not sure. I think from the first moment he climbed into my lap, I felt a bond with him. I can't explain it. I was jealous of you, having three such beautiful boys. I felt I had missed out somehow, living all my life without a family, and then along comes Figment. He doesn't hold back on his affection. He jumps right into my heart and loves me unconditionally, and I found myself responding without thinking. This little guy adores me, and I love him."

I sipped my coffee, thinking back to the moment the night before at our D&D game when Figment had been sitting in my lap, toying with my erection. I had felt completely at ease with it. In fact, I had felt drawn to him, connected in a secret but critically important way. We belonged together, and the sexual intimacy wasn't nasty or vulgar or immoral. It was simple, an expression of trust and tenderness. In that moment, I realized I loved him, and I had to tell him, so I leaned down and kissed him tenderly on the forehead and said, `I love you, Figment.' The words had come from my heart, and I remembered seeing Figment's beautiful green eyes twinkling with pleasure upon hearing those words. It seemed he'd been waiting to hear me say just that and he was finally free to open up to me and love me back.

I hoped it wasn't all in my imagination. I added another spoon of sugar to my coffee and smiled at Rick. "I'm the one who should be thanking you, Rick. You've given me a special gift. I can't even begin to describe how wonderful it feels to be loved by you all."

Rick squeezed my knee. "It goes both ways, Caleb. You're a part of us now, and we need your love as much as you need ours."

͠ ͠ ͠

That evening, we dimmed the lights to watch a movie. The boys had picked it, a goofy action thriller with superheroes making snarky comments as they saved the planet. Naturally, clothing was discarded by everyone in favor of sexy comfort.

I reclined on one end of the couch with my legs sticking out in front of me. Figment's naked body was stretched out on top of me, using me as his personal cushion. His head was tucked under my chin, his soft butt was nestled over my boner, and his warm back rested on my chest and tummy. My hands were massaging his smooth chest, his soft belly, and his hard three-inch spike.

The movie droned on while the rest of the family found other ways to be entertained. Trace was slowly stroking Rick's cock while Drew fondled his dad's balls. Watching them, I had to giggle. They were treating their dad's gear like a favorite toy that you absentmindedly played with while doing something else at the same time.

Figment turned his head and whispered, "What's so funny?" In the movie, the heroes were facing a particularly deadly threat, so Figment must have wondered why I was laughing at that particular moment.

I slid both my hands up to his chest and hugged him, loving how the soft skin of his back felt against the small tuft of hair on my chest. "It's nothing, Figment. I'm just noticing how your brothers play with your dad without really thinking about what they're doing."

"They love each other," Figment stated, as if it was an obvious fact I had missed.

"That they do," I agreed, kissing him on the top of his head.

"Do you love me?" he asked. His voice caught at the end. Could it be he was still uncertain about how I felt toward him.

I squeezed him until he grunted softly, then I relaxed my hug and whispered, "With all my heart, sweet boy."

He rolled over and wiggled his small erection against my bigger, hairier boner and settled down, belly to belly, chest to chest, with his cheek nuzzling under my chin. "I love you, Caleb, with all my heart. I've decided to make you my forever lover."

I tried not to laugh. He was only ten, and besides, it made my heart leap to hear him say it. I gave him another kiss, a tender peck on the top of his head, and whispered, "How lucky I am."

Figment turned slightly and toyed with my chest hair. "Not lucky, Caleb. Chosen. I've chosen you, and I hope you'll choose me too, as your soulmate, the love of your life."

"Oh, I do. I choose you every day. You're my special love, my Figment, and we belong together."

Figment sat up and scooted around until his butt was sitting on my belly and his hands were on my shoulders, holding me down while he stared intently into my eyes. "Do you mean that, or are you teasing me?"

I looked up at Figment. His light green eyes sparkled in the light from the television. Did I mean it? I wasn't teasing, that much I knew, but how much of a commitment could I make to this boy, considering the enormous difference in our ages? Could he even understand, at the tender age of ten, what it means to choose another person as the love of your life?

And yet, as we stared at other, I felt our souls making a deep connection in that moment. Despite my every misgiving, my soul made the commitment I was hesitant to give. I looked deep into Figment's eyes and felt my heart skip a beat. I didn't understand it. I quit trying. I looked at Figment and said, "I choose you, Figment, to love as my soulmate, from this moment forward."

His face screwed up as he began to cry. He leaned forward, kissing me frantically on the lips, the nose, the cheeks, pouring out tears that soaked my face and fell into my mouth, salty testaments to how much he loved me.

I turned and saw Rick watching us, a tender smile on his face. He nodded his head, sending me a silent signal of his approval, then he stood up and said, "I'll make us some popcorn."

"You want us to pause the movie?" Trace asked.

"No. I've seen it before," Rick replied. He headed for Figment and me, patting his youngest son on the back as he walked by, then leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.

What have I gotten myself into?

͠ ͠ ͠

The movie was still playing, but no one was watching it.

Drew was gasping in joyful pain as Rick thrust his cock up into Drew's tight ass. I had watched as Rick patiently fingered Drew, loosening the thirteen-year-old's tight hole and slicking it up with lube. Trace had helped, first smearing lube all over Rick's cock, then lifting Drew's leg to gain access to Drew's taint and balls. Now Trace was sucking Drew's cock while Rick worked his way deeper with each thrust.

Drew's body was shaking. His legs were stretched out. His toes were pointed in ecstasy. It was obvious he was cumming, and Trace was eagerly swallowing every drop. Rick paused and waited for Drew to finish spasming. When Drew relaxed, Rick started again, thrusting slowly in and out. Drew sighed and caressed the side of Trace's face, encouraging his big brother to keep sucking.

Trace pulled off and asked, "Can I do you after Dad cums?"

Drew nodded. "Uh huh, but don't stop sucking, Trace. It's starting to feel awesome."

Trace quickly slurped Drew's five-inch boner back into his mouth, bobbing quickly up and down.

Figment and I watched as the other members of his family made passionate love only a few feet away. Figment seemed amused by it all, but he was squeezing my erection the entire time and slowly humping his small boner against my hip. He turned to me and whispered, "We could do that too."

I tore my eyes away from Rick and his boys and looked at Figment. "What they're doing?"

Figment nodded. "We're soulmates. Our souls are joined forever, but our bodies have never been properly melded."

I frowned in confusion. "I don't understand what you mean, Figment."

He grinned bashfully. "You know what I'm saying, Caleb."

I'm sure my face blushed bright red in that moment. I did know what Figment was implying, and my cock throbbed at the thought, burping out a drop of precum.

Figment was slowly jerking me off at the time, and when his hand slipped over the end of my cock, he noticed the drop of slippery liquid pooled on the end. His small fingers toyed with it, smearing it all over the top of my cock, bringing another drop oozing out.

While he played with my cock, he whispered, "I want you inside me, like my dad is inside Drew. I want to feel you loving me, like my dad loves Drew."

I shook my head, denying his request, knowing it was something I could never do. "You're too young, Figment. I'm too big. I don't want to hurt you."

He placed a finger on my lips, silencing me. "You won't hurt me. I know you'll be gentle, and I want you to love me. Tonight. Now."

"Figment, please don't ask me to do this."

"You said you love me, Caleb. Are you saying you don't?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," I replied, frustrated. "I do love you. That will never change, but I think it's too soon for this. For both of us."

Figment's eyes hardened. "I don't," he replied. He reached over to the table where Trace had left the tube of lubricant and grabbed the container. Figment snapped open the lid and squirted a generous glob onto my cock, from the tip to the base. Then he rubbed the lubricant all over my throbbing cock, coating every inch. Figment squirted out another dollop of lube onto his fingers and reached behind him, working it into his butt. Satisfied with his preparations, he straddled my stomach and reached behind him, lifting my cock and pointed it at an angle. Then he scooted back a bit, and I felt the tip of my cock sliding around in the cleft of his ass, catching on a small indentation. Figment pushed back, and I felt his flesh spreading slowly around the end of my cock, spreading wider, gaping, popping open and accepting me inside.

I gasped and held Figment's thighs. I couldn't believe how easily I'd slid up into his body.

He was breathing slow and deep, smiling gently. He rocked forward slightly and settled back, forcing me halfway in. He rocked again, pushing carefully until his butt cheeks were pressed against my hips and crushing my pubic hair. He smiled down at me and whispered, "Now ... love me, Caleb."

I moved my hands to his thin, throbbing cocklet. So small, but so hard. So aroused. So hot beneath my fingers. I stroked him and fondled his balls as he slowly rocked over me, sinking my cock fully inside. His flesh gripped me, squeezing down, sliding all along my length. I groaned and whispered, "Oh, Figment ..."

He picked up speed, rising until my cock almost slipped out, then forcing himself back down. I began thrusting up, matching his motions, smacking into his butt with each lunge. His mouth opened slightly as he took in short, quick breaths. I stroked him faster and squeezed his small, hairless balls. He gasped and held his breath, shoving himself down onto my cock. I felt his body spasming, squeezing me. His small boner throbbed and jumped. My body responded to his dry orgasm with an explosive burst of cum, launched deep into Figment's body.

Figment sagged and dropped down onto my chest, with my cock still lodged inside him, and rested on top of me, breathing slow and deep. He whispered, "Now we are melded, and our love is complete."

͠ ͠ ͠

I spent the rest of the week at the apartment with Rick and the boys. I only drove to my place when I needed a change of clothing, and Drew and Figment decided to accompany me. Now that I was `part of the family', they seemed hesitant to allow me out of their sight.

Maybe some people would find that annoying or creepy or confining. Not me. I enjoyed having the boys holding my hands as we walked up the driveway to the house, then following me into my bedroom and helping me to pick out clothes to take over to their place.

Drew made me laugh when I opened my underwear drawer and he said I needn't bother with shorts, but I should get some fresh socks for my stinky feet.

Figment peeked in the drawer and lifted out a pair of skimpy bikini briefs, neon blue in color. He held them up to my crotch, giggled and threw them onto the bed. "Maybe just these. They look fun."

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Sometimes a Dungeon Master makes mistakes. I wasn't infallible, and as a DM, my priority was to make the game fun for everyone, but I made a huge mistake that Friday night, a mistake that I immediately tried to fix but failed.

After spending all week with Rick and the boys, there seemed to be a subliminal connection between the five of us. I don't know how else to describe it. We were bound together now through our shared experiences, through our uninhibited love-making, through our joking dinner conversations. We understood each other. I could look at the boys with a painful grimace on my face, and they'd all break down in laughter, remembering how I had shown the same expression the night before when Trace was pounding me from behind. This close bond between us had an inevitable effect on our D&D game, and it was my fault for not noticing until it was too late.

The game was progressing nicely, with the party members heading deep into a swamp to confront yuan-ti abominations, bizarre creatures with a snake's lower body and head, but with humanoid shoulders and arms.

"The swamp path seems to be closing in around you," I said. "Very little light penetrates the dense overgrowth above. It's shadowed and dreary in here, and the thick leaves brush against you as you force your way forward, so naturally you don't notice the quicksand until Rick's paladin stumbles into it and begins sinking. What do you do?"

"I think we should leave him and find another way around," Trace said, trying not to laugh.

Rick poked Trace in the side. "Is that how you treat the man who provides you with pizza and breadsticks."

Figment and Drew snorted and began laughing. The night before, Trace had pretended to suck on a breadstick like it was Drew's cock, at one point holding the breadstick next to his brother's five-inch boner to show how similar they were in size.

"I don't like breadsticks. They give me bad breath," Trace replied.

"That's not what you said last night," Drew interjected, chortling.

Trace popped Drew on the back of the head, and they got into a wrestling contest, ending up in the floor, rolling around and laughing. I watched and chuckled at their antics, hugging Figment against my chest. Rick told them to get up and cut out the juvenile behavior.

As they climbed back into their chairs, Mark glanced at me with a frustrated frown. I suppose he expected me, as the DM, to keep the game moving along. "Wouldn't the druid have noticed quicksand?" Mark asked, turning to Sheri to back him up.

Sheri checked her character sheet and added, "I do have a +9 bonus on survival and nature checks. Maybe I can see signs that the ground is getting squishy."

That's when I made my mistake. Always before, I tried to make the game a grand adventure starring the players in our group. If they came up with a creative solution to one of my puzzles, I adjusted the direction of the adventure to accommodate their solution. But that night, I had something entirely different planned. I wanted to highlight Rick's heroism, his willingness to sacrifice himself for the good of the others. I intended for the quicksand to swallow him before the party could react, only to have him show up later as a captive of the snake-like yuan-ti. Rick and I had talked about it before the game, working together to figure out a way for his character to appear to die, only to resurface later at an unexpected moment, rescuing the rest of the party against overwhelming odds. So when Mark and Sheri pointed out what I had missed—that a druid with Sheri's nature skills might have noticed the quicksand in advance—I had to come up with a reasonable explanation for why she missed it.

"Well, she was at the back of the group," I explained, "so she didn't see it until it was too late."

"The ground wasn't even a little squishy?" Sheri asked.

Thinking fast, I replied, "No. Firm and solid. You might almost think the yuan-ti set a trap, using the natural terrain to create a quicksand pit right in the middle of the path you were following."

Mark shook his head. "But we said we're walking slowly so I can check for traps as we go. I know we were looking for vine snares and dart traps and that sort of thing, but wouldn't I have noticed a pit filled with quicksand?"

He had me there. His rogue had been looking for exactly that, and I had completely forgotten it. I had spent all week working with Rick on the details of this trap and the ways his sons could use their skills as a barbarian and sorcerer to rescue him, but I had forgotten that there were two others in the party also. A trap-detecting rogue and a druid with deep knowledge of the natural world would have prevented the mess I had planned. I was stuck, caught in a trap of my own making, and it wasn't filled with quicksand.

I tried one more time to answer their objections. "The trap is cleverly designed, escaping the casual notice of your druid and also confusing your rogue, who was looking for mechanical traps. Rick, your paladin sinks quickly. His armor is heavy and pulls him under the surface of the quicksand. What are doing to stop your descent?"

Rick winked at me and said, "I stab down with my sword, trying to find solid ground to push up against."

"Your efforts make the problem worse," I replied. "You feel something solid beneath you, but the moment you push against it, it gives way and you sink rapidly out of sight."

Drew stared at me, surprised. "You killed Dad's character?"

Trace snorted and laughed. "Seriously? He's gone?"

I nodded. Figment giggled and said, "Without a trace." Figment knew what we were planning, and he'd been delighted with our plans to suck his dad out-of-sight in full view of the rest of the party.

Mark looked at Sheri, shrugged, and said, "I guess I'll move up next to the barbarian and we'll look for a way around the quicksand."

͠ ͠ ͠

The rest of the scenario played out much as I had planned.

Trace stepped up his game, dominating his foes with risky play and lucky dice rolls. He had a terrific time, because he felt like the hero of the night, leading the party through the swamp and fearlessly beating down every creature that attacked.

Drew experimented with his spells, looking for new ways to use them on the yuan-ti and the other denizens of the swamp. He was particularly clever with his use of a hypnotic pattern spell to defeat the yuan-ti sorcerers. I expected it, but I was pleased to see him defeating the villains with cunning spell use.

Mark's play, on the other hand, was mechanical and bored. He fought next to the barbarian, dispatching foes from behind, but he frowned the entire time he rolled the dice. When the party discovered chests of treasure, he didn't offer to check for traps. Trace's barbarian was pricked by a poison needle inside one of the traps, but Mark simply shrugged, unconcerned.

Sheri was her usual chipper self, running around and healing party members when they needed her, transforming into a giant wolf to attack yuan-ti when the rest of the party was at full health. She noticed Mark's sour attitude and the way I was struggling (and failing) to get everyone involved in the game, but she didn't say anything.

After one particularly complex battle, I called for a break, claiming I needed to look up a few things to prepare for the final confrontation. Rick took his boys to the front of the game shop to buy drinks. I opened one of my books and refreshed my memory on black dragon abilities.

Sheri and Mark sat there, not talking, staring at their character sheets.

I put my books away and said, "Look, guys, I'm sorry about earlier."

Mark refused to look up, but Sheri turned to me and shrugged. "It's no big deal," she said. "I know you had something fun planned for us, and we threw you for a loop."

Sighing, I replied, "That's certainly true, but you're right. Either your druid or Mark's rogue should have noticed the trap and warned the party before the paladin fell into it."

"Really, Caleb, it's okay," Sheri insisted. "We're all enjoying ourselves, so don't worry about it."

Mark nodded. "Trace and Drew are having a terrific time. That's all that matters."

Mark's attitude exasperated me, but he had a good point. I had been trying to make the game fun for my new family and had forgotten to keep it interesting for Mark and Sheri, who had been faithfully playing with me for months now. "Look, guys," I offered, "the next scenario will feature special puzzles designed to challenge the most observant rogue and the most canny druid. I promise to spread the love, okay?"

Mark stood up and turned to Sheri, "I think I'll grab a soda. You want anything?"

"Sure, babe. Lemonade. If they have it."

Mark walked away, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped as he stared at the floor.

Sheri sighed and said, "Don't pay any attention to him, Caleb. He's grumpy tonight."

"He's also right, Sheri. I messed up. I should have come up with a more logical way of explaining why you guys missed that trap."

Sheri studied me for a few seconds, then laughed. "Oh, I see now. The always-infallible, ever-seeing, all-knowing DM must never be caught unprepared by clever party members who come up with unexpected solutions to his puzzles."

I chuckled. "You know me too well."

Sheri placed her hand over mine, gently squeezing. "Caleb, what you're doing for these boys is wonderful. I've seen how much they've changed over the last few weeks. You're casting your usual spell over all of them, drawing them into the story, making them feel like the heroes of their own personal saga. It's what you did for Mark and me when we first started playing. It's why we're still playing. You've made the game fun for all of us, and it will be Mark's turn to shine the next time we play. He'll be okay. You'll see."

"I hope so. Thanks for being so understanding, Sheri."

Smiling, she replied, "You're a good man, Caleb Malcolm. As a DM and a friend. Rick is lucky to have you, and so are we." She stood up and gave me a quick hug. "Mark's having a rough week. He didn't get accepted for that graduate assistant program he applied for, so he's kinda down about that. Trust me. Next week, he'll be back, practicing his roguish ways."

͠ ͠ ͠

I'm not sure how it happened, but Rick drove his car to pick up Chinese takeout while I had all three boys in my car, driving them home to their apartment. Trace sat next to me in the front passenger seat. Figment and Drew sat in the back seat.

Drew began joking around, as usual, this time pretending to be car sick. I watched in my rear-view mirror as he wiped his forehead, panted, and began making gagging noises. I didn't want to encourage him, so I didn't comment, focusing on my driving.

Trace got a bit fed up with it and turned around to glare at Drew. "Cut it out, you little ass."

Drew stopped messing around until Trace turned away, then leaned over and pulled Figment's tee-shirt up to wipe his face, which made Figment giggle and push him away.

I tried not to smile, but I couldn't help it. Drew's antics always made me feel young again, reminding me of the carefree silliness that every boy should have.

Apparently, Trace was no longer a boy and there wasn't an ounce of silliness remaining in him. He turned back quickly and yelled, "I said stop it!"

Drew sat up, eyes wide, and held his body absolutely still in the face of his big brother's fury.

Trace glared at Drew one more time, muttered, "I mean it," and turned back to face forward.

I watched in the mirror. As soon as Trace wasn't watching, Drew's face broke into a mischievous grin and he leaned forward, faking a fit of vomiting ... all over Trace's neck.

In a flash, Trace spun around and punched Drew in the nose. Drew's head flew back and his nose began spurting blood. Drew didn't say a word, but held his nose, getting blood all over his hand and face.

"Oh, crap!" I shouted, looking for a safe place to pull over.

Trace immediately started apologizing. "I'm so sorry, Caleb."

I pointed at the glove box. "Look in there, Trace. I think there might be napkins or something he can use to catch the blood."

Trace found the napkins and passed them back to Figment, who frantically pressed them against Drew's face. Drew squeezed his nose shut and wiped away as much of the blood as he could. His eyes were filled with tears, and he refused to look at Trace.

Trace gritted his teeth and snapped, "I told you to stop. You didn't listen. Damnit, Drew. I'm sorry, but I told you to cut it out twice."

Drew's response was slightly muffled by the napkins and his pinched nose. "You need to learn to take a joke, asshole."

"It wasn't funny!" Trace shouted.

Drew pointed at me. "Caleb thought it was!"

"Well, I didn't!" Trace yelled, growing angry once again.

I decided I had better intervene before things got out of hand. "Hey, guys, let's calm down and just get home—"

Figment interrupted me, screaming at his brothers, "Bren nha col n'sen var edilar lor kar!"

Trace and Drew both stared at Figment, stunned into silence. Drew leaned back in his seat, holding the napkins to his face. Trace turned around, facing forward, jaw clinching.

Figment began crying, dropping his face into his lap and covering his head with both arms.

`Well, shit!' I said to myself, putting the car in gear and driving on.

͠ ͠ ͠

We made it to the apartment without any more major meltdowns. Trace stomped off to the boy's bedroom. Drew went to the bathroom to wash off the blood. Figment curled up on the couch, refusing to talk to me about what had just happened. With nothing better to do, I walked into the kitchen and started setting the table.

Rick arrived to a deathly quiet house. Trace met him at the door and quietly filled him in. Rick nodded and handed Trace the bags of Chinese carryout, then went in the bathroom to check on Drew, while Trace and I set the food on the table and poured drinks.

Drew wandered into the kitchen, the faintest of smiles returning to his face. His nose looked red and slightly swollen, but he seemed fine otherwise. He playfully bumped against Trace, and Trace—with a mandatory eye-roll—gave Drew a one-armed hug.

Rick entered the dining room with Figment trailing behind him. We all took our seats and began filling our plates. The meal was subdued, with a few words here and there. It certainly wasn't a happy occasion.

After we finished eating, Rick sent the boys into the living room to watch a movie while he and I cleaned up. As we stood next to each other at the sink, washing the dishes, Rick said, "They are behaving as they should, but they shouldn't be as they are."

I couldn't have been more confused. "I don't get your meaning," I admitted.

"Well, it's hard to explain." He began drying glasses with a towel. "My boys shouldn't be this way. Trace shouldn't be so volatile and moody, and Drew shouldn't joke around every moment of every day. Drew gets on Trace's nerves, and I swear sometimes he deliberately picks at his big brother just to see how Trace will respond. Drew knows Trace can pound him into next week, but Drew gets tired of Trace's surliness. Trace gets fed up with Drew's antics, and for Trace, the only way to respond when someone attacks you is to hit back, hard and fast."

I nodded. "I was a first-hand witness to that."

Rick sighed. "Those two are like fire and water. Complete opposites."

I thought back to what Figment had told me the week before. How had Figment described his family? Like the seasons of the year? That was a better analogy for his brothers. Spring and summer. Different, but not complete opposites, but definitely not in agreement either.

"I can't ask Trace to stop being fire," Rick continued. "It is what he is, even though he burns himself and others when he explodes like this. All I can ask is that he control his outbursts better."

"And stop punching his brother in the nose?" I asked.

Rick sighed. Nodding his head, he asked, "Did you get blood all over your car?"

"No. We caught it in time. Is Drew okay?"

"He's fine. His nose is sore. He'll joke around a little less for the next five minutes, and then he'll be back to his old self again."

"And Figment?"

Rick dried the last glass and dropped the towel on the cabinet. "He may need some reassurance from his soulmate."

I nodded and dried my hands. "I'll talk to him."

͠ ͠ ͠

I sat next to Figment on the couch. He crawled up into my lap and snaked his arms around my chest, hugging me as I rocked him gently.

"You okay?" I whispered.

He nodded and nuzzled his cheek into my chest.

"Wanna talk about it?" I asked.

He shook his head, gulping and sniffling.

I continued rocking him slowly, rubbing his side with one hand.

Eventually, he whispered, "I didn't want them to do that."

"I didn't either," I replied, "but sometimes brothers argue and get in fights. And then they forgive each other."

Figment nodded and snuggled even closer. "I'm sorry too."

"For what, sweet boy?"

"For screaming at them."

"Well, we were all upset. At least you didn't punch anyone." I tickled his ribs and he giggled.

"No. I didn't punch anyone. That's what Trace does. I don't punch. And I don't joke around like Drew."

"You just yell magical spells at the top of your lungs and make everyone stop fighting," I teased.

Figment nodded his head and hugged me again.

"What was it you said, Figment? In my car?"

He mumbled, "I don't really wanna say."

"Okay." I didn't want to press him, but I was still curious. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

He seemed to be thinking about it. Finally, sighing softly, he looked up at me. "It was Elvish, not a magical spell. I said, `This is not what you were created to do!' They were messing everything up. I had to stop them somehow."

"Okay, I understand." I hugged him and rocked him, but despite my assurances to Figment, I didn't really understand. None of it made sense. Not Rick's explanation. Not Figment's cry. And especially not the way Figment shouted at his brothers in a make-believe language that seemed more natural to him than English.

I didn't understand any of it.

 

The end of Chapter Six of FIGMENT