Summary: They say a shooting star is a dying planet.

Disclaimer: I do not own Oban Star-Racers, it belongs to Savin Yeatman-Eiffel and Thomas Romain.

Note: I really love this fandom, but I have deleted all of my old work for it. I decided that something was needed to compensate, and that I would recycle my old idea and make it better by tenfold. Here is to hoping I did not completely fail.

Catch

Reach out your

hand, &

I'll make you

mine.

“When you die, you become a star.”

Molly twitched. Her dark eyes slid to side, looking at her friend. Jordan's fingers were working in between the cracks of the stone floor, nearly touching empty air beneath the hovering stone temple, but his eyes were dead set on the stars above them. The small lights illuminated the mixture of navy blue and inky black, standing out clearly. Humans were nothing like stars. They polluted, the created poisons for the planets and choked the air with their 'natural' resources. How could those who pained the Earth so much become such a beautiful part of it? It just wasn't logical.

“That isn't true.” She answered, her eyes flipping upwards to see the stars that he was staring at. On the other hand, there were so many people who did good things. If they were so kind, maybe they could be something gorgeous like those little lights. Maybe, just maybe, her Mother was one of those stars.

“You don't know that.” Jordan stated simply, sounding extremely happy about the fact. She tutted softly at his childish demeanor. But maybe it was better that way, when he acted like that sometimes. They were only barely young adults. Teenagers. Parts of them were still those of children, like their hearts. Children whined and moaned and believed everything they wanted to hear, even if it was a complete lie. Children thought about diseases caused by love, worried about kisses and holding hands with the opposite gender because it was yucky. Children were impressionable. She knew that a little too well, having learned that the hard way from her own parents. But the love of a child was also unconditional. No matter what happened, the child would still run back; and scream, beg, whine for more attention.

“Right. But hypothetically speaking, would I be near everyone I loved?” Her voice softened, catching him off guard. He glanced at her, the tense air cutting into him. Her face was stony, yet something in her eyes was dancing. It was one of those things she needed to know, he could tell. A small smile appeared on his lips.

“Of course. What would be the point in hanging there, shining so brightly, without something to give you a little light of your own? A little love never goes amiss.” His grin expanded, shining brighter than the Sun of the Earth, cheerful and true. She looked at him, her eyes meeting his silently. Her lips parted ever so slightly, as if she wanted to say something important. But in a moment, it was gone, and she rushed out different words that he couldn't say he didn't pay much attention to.

“Would you stay with me for all that time, if we were hung up there? Hypothetically speaking, of course.” She sped through the sentence, staring at him with her soul-seeing eyes, inviting but sad. Something was wrong, and he knew it. But she never liked being questioned. He knew from experience that interrogating her would make her not want to talk to him at all. If she wanted to tell him, she would. Just as he had done, her fingers began to worm in between the holes in the stones, as if she was actually trying to reach the empty air, set herself free with it. Give him some to breathe with, because right then she was making it hard for him to catch his breath and it didn't seem like he could help himself in the slightest.

“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. That is, apart from with my partner. Hypothetically speaking.” He returned the sentence as quickly as she had questioned him, avoiding the direct approach and exploiting the loopholes that had come to mind. She grinned at him a moment, then redirected her gaze to the sky again.

“I guess that doesn't sound too bad.” She muttered, not even bothering to add her excuse of 'hypothetically speaking' any longer. If that was true, her mother had to be the brightest star of all, and she could stay with Jordan, Aikka, Stan, Koji, even her father because he wouldn't need to rush around and worry about everything. He wouldn't have to work, wouldn't have to employ mechanics and have people try to get him to teach them to fly. He wouldn't need wings to remain in the air, free and without strings attached to pull him back down again like a lead balloon. She could soar near the moon without being in the metal shell of a machine, and she'd have something almost unattainable in that perfect world, watching over everyone without judgment or cause to leave them. It'd be freedom at its best.

“Hey Molly, you know the Ultimate Prize is supposed to be a wish? Couldn't we just wish upon a star?” Jordan whispered. She froze, and her eyes swiveled to the side again. The look on her face was stuck on, like it had been sculpted from pure ice. Beautiful, yet angry and giving the impression she was ready to murder him on the spot. He swallowed. He hadn't really thought about his words. He had to admit, it sounded sort of bad.

“You want to give up this race? Throw away everything we've worked for?” She hissed, glaring coldly at him. He sat up straight, jolting higher up, closer to the sky and feeling the light of the stars echo on his features. But now, their glow had become far more dull with morning drawing near, and he didn't feel they had much effect. He'd said something immensely stupid, and he knew it. He chewed his bottom lip silently, carefully thinking through what he was about to say for once in his life. He'd already done a lot of damage, and he was never somebody who was good at fixing things. He wasn't a mechanic, he wasn't Stan or Koji and the most he had ever managed to use was cellotape. He couldn't sew, couldn't use a glue gun and it was probably about time he learned but even then it didn't seem that anything would fix the situation right then.

“No, I was just saying wishing on a star isn't a bad idea.” He mumbled, mentally fumbling over his words. He didn't want her to lose her temper. If there was one thing Molly was, it was arrogant, and although it wasn't her best quality he normally found it quite funny, but right then was not one of times. She'd kill him if he even considered the idea, and he'd help her string him up from a metal pole or tree branch and make it look like suicide. They couldn't drop everything that they had worked for. Everything they had dreamed about doing. The thing they wanted so badly, that single wish that could change anything, or give them anything, or allow them to do whatever they wanted.

“Wishing on stars doesn't work.” Molly replied stiffly. When she was young, she'd sat up at night and stared out the window so that she was so tired she couldn't even drag herself up for school in the morning. She'd watched the stars dutifully, telling herself that if she wished hard enough (if she begged, pleaded, screamed to them) then they would bring her mother back. Then her father would be happy, stop crying out Maya in the middle of the night, notice that she was there again. Everything would be as it had always been, happy and not shattered into a million pieces. Not that she would tell Jordan that. He didn't even know her real name was Eva, or that Don Wei was her father, or that she'd use that wish just to get what she'd wanted as a child and that was why she wanted it so badly. She exhaled.

“Not yet. We're young. There's time for that to change.” Jordan replied quietly. She was fifteen, he was seventeen and there was time for the entire world to change. Time for them to be foolish, childish, anything they wanted to be, and even if it was only for a little while the memories would last for an eternity. Time for him to love her, to gradually build up the courage to tell her so, and time for her to learn to master the art of acceptance then perhaps even learn to love him in return.

“Even in the Whizzing Arrow, you couldn't just go up and ask them to grant wishes. You'd need power over the universe to change that, and even then that'd be pointless. It could never happen.” She said, almost sounding as though she were speculating the idea of trying it anyway, even though she had every idea that the nickname 'Little Mouse' had been given to her for a reason by Rick. She had no power. But she was cocky and rude, and she could try fighting back anyway. Not that it would work, that much was obvious. Then again, Aikka called her the 'Earth Princess.' Maybe that was worth something.

“I suppose they wouldn't want to listen, them being lumps of dead rock and all. No ears.” Jordan joked lightly, pointing to his own. She nodded, staring into the darkness illuminated by the tiniest lights, then threw herself to a crouching position. She stared at her shoes, then shot upwards, grinning down at him.

“Let's try it. Right now.” Molly demanded. Her eyes watched him, devious but not coy, refusing tricks but willing to cheat to get what she wanted. She would play rough, play dirty, and she'd taken his words far too literally for his liking. He shook his head in silent protest. No, it wasn't worth it. There was another race tomorrow. A chance to get closer to the prize. A chance to get closer to obtaining that wish.

“I'll become ruler of all for you, make them grant your wishes. But we can't fly up there. We have a race tomorrow against all those tough opponents. It's too risky.” He said, realising how very much he sounded like Don Wei. The voice of logic and reason. A walking ball of anger and hurt, stiff from age and pain that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to understand because it was so strange. Distant and cold, yet close and fiery, changeable, unending, full of silent grief. He frowned. They were nothing alike. But Molly seemed to understand. She nodded silently, then plopped back to her seat next to him. She cleared her throat.

“So, tell me, why would you do that for me?” She asked, staring at her shoes. Inanimate objects always did seem to be easier to focus on when the air felt awkward. He dared to look beyond the stars into the darkness, as deep as he could, becoming intent on holding that image in his mind. If they couldn't wish upon them, they could always pray to them. He had never been particularly religious, but he could learn to try new things, and wanting something so badly may have been materialistic but his wish was something he wanted to hold on to. It was his dream, no, his reality because he would achieve it. He would make Molly fall for him. Hard. Because that was how he had fallen for her, and it was only fair.

“Because you're my partner, and partners look out for each other, right?” He answered, breathing in deeply, hoping that his lie would pass. She blinked, the blankest of looks overcoming her features and seeping into her oddly crimson eyes before she smiled. The previous look was erased, replaced by an enlightened beam of joy and the shine of happiness in her small smile.

“Something like that.” Molly answered. Because Jordan could do wrong, and he wasn't perfect. Even if they tried to look out for each other, there was always the possibility they wouldn't be able to catch each other when they fell. If those stars were truly others, how would they know which ones to catch? Even then, would they be able to predict where they fell, reach out their hands and claim their families, friends and loves once more? Something would have to be special about that star. It would have to shine so beautifully, so brightly you had the impulse to do anything to get it. She'd reach out her hand, and make that star hers. He answered her cryptically, ruining her thoughtful moment.

“I'll make you mine.”

“I'll be your star.”

The Prince said it so easily. Her eyes met directly with his, stunned a moment before she laughed. He was still so understanding. Or rather, he tried to be. He hadn't lost something he depended on. He wasn't needy like her. Princess always were more demanding, so it probably just about made sense in some odd sort of way. Not that she was going to tell him that. He'd laugh at her cruelly, if he understood, although he'd never been the sort of arrogant and selfish person to do that, it was the only reaction she was worthy of. The Princess was losing her beauty. Her hair had lost the sheen, her eyes the glimmer, her smile? Her smile had lost the life it had previously possessed. She was never a Princess, but those small things made it all the more noticeable to the eye.

“Why would I need a star?” She snorted between her girlish giggles, grasping at the loose threads the frayed checkered blanket they were sitting on. It wasn't really fitting of royalty like Aikka she supposed, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Either way, he had kept his promise. She was seeing him again. That was all that mattered, that she finally had someone who knew of Oban again. Someone who knew of the adventure, the great race, Canaletto, someone who knew of the Avatar and his identity.

“Because yours burnt out.” Aikka answered, looking at her in a way that made him almost unquestionable. She couldn't lie to him. He was something else. She shook her head slowly, a no. He was wrong. So very wrong, and he didn't even realise it. It wasn't her light that had burnt out. She never had one to begin with.

“No, I never had one. The one I relied on instead went away.” She stated, reaching her hand out, up into empty space and feeling the cold air surrounding it. If she could use that hand to grab some stars, use them to make a stairway upwards, up into the sky she'd do it without a second thought. If she had that impossible stairway, the path to reach everything, the path she could use to see anyone, she'd ignore everywhere she could go and everything she could do if only she could see that one person.

“Rely on me then.” Aikka stated, like it was impossibly simple and he couldn't quite grasp the reason why she didn't understand it. She reached for his hand, taking it softly in her own gloved one. Smiling untruly and softly at him, she dropped it suddenly as though it were red hot, watching his confusion with sad eyes.

“I can't.” She breathed, staring up at the sky, knowing Aikka could wait for her but not forever. Could Jordan? She was playing a misguided game of stealing hearts, taking names and never quite knowing what to do with herself in between her loss of sanity and dealing with what remained of her life. The worst thing was that she knew that she was doing it, but couldn't stop herself. Aikka was going to end up needing her more than anything else, and she wasn't going to be able to fix the problems that came with that. Unless it was already too late, she was already in too deep and nothing would change that. She trembled.

The one thing he had left her was a kiss. He hadn't kept his promise. He couldn't make wishes upon stars come true, although he had power over the universe. If he did it for her, it wouldn't be fair. You'd have to start handing out wishes to everyone else then, and not everyone would use them well. There were those that would use that power for evil, and nothing good would come of the pain they would cause due to their selfish, spoiled hearts filled only with wicked choices. She was beginning to have a lot in common with these people, really, seeing as she was doing something so cruel intentionally.

“You can always try. No harm ever came of trying.” Aikka answered quickly, moving to sit in front of her and smiling at her brightly. He was a harmless fool, sort of like an old man on a park bench. Slightly odd to be feeding ducks in all weathers, but with kind intentions and a good heart. He was going to hurt himself, though. Those men she saw from time to time were usually plagued by something or other. The death of a loved one, loneliness, suffering. He'd become sick because of her, if he tried to be something so beautiful.

“So they say. Not true though, is it?” She answered with sarcasm, indirectly mentioning previous events, ignoring the stung look on his regal face. He had such gorgeous features, fitting of royalty. Long, sooty black and thick eyelashes defining sharp blue eyes which were young and yet so wise and knowing it gave her shivers at times. His dark, tanned skin, just the right shade for him to look healthy and yet not like a person who had used fake tan to coat themselves in orange and look awful, too bright for it to be natural. He had thin, just large enough lips that were delicate and fine. His nose was elfish and cute, round and like a button. He was already beautiful, but she was going to destroy that if he stayed with her a moment longer. She was not a Princess like he called her. She was a street urchin, rough and unrefined. Not ugly, but not pretty, possessing no certain quality that drew people to her like ants to honey but the feeling still lingered.

“Everyone needs something, Molly. The smallest of lights can bring hope. Nourasia lingered in darkness for centuries until G'Dar and his people came along. They gave us life.” Aikka whispered, grinning insanely. She tutted in return, although it was not cruelly. She didn't want to hurt him anymore than she already knew she was going to end up doing, if he kept on like that. Because she did. She did want to rely on him, she did want to cling to him and cry and be pathetic. She wanted him to be her Prince, riding in on his white horse (well, giant bug) and she wanted him to save her. But that was selfish, and so like her and she'd never forgive herself. She knew reasoning. She knew love. She had never gone without anything within reason. She had never felt suffering and pain like she felt right then, with her partner ripped away from her. She just needed someone to rely on. That was all. He just happened to be willing to be the person who shared her pain and she couldn't let that become reality because he didn't deserve it. Aikka had already suffered enough. Letting him harbor feelings for her like she had once done for him would only bring more pain, more ugliness, more crushed hearts without ways to stick themselves back together.

“Then what about shooting stars?” She shot back, remembering something Jordan had once told her long ago. She wasn't quite sure whether it was true or not, but it was a distant memory that had stuck in her head so it had to be there for a reason. The announcement would hardly be surprising if it were true.

“What remains of beauty can be ugly.” Aikka said shakily, not sounding sure of his own words. She cackled madly. That was true enough. Everything that remained of what had once been was ugly, painful and ugly and scarring and she hated it so much. But it had been beautiful, once. So very beautiful and alluring and seductive with their partnership and her obliviousness. It had been everything she needed. Everything she'd ever wanted. Security and love. Love more than anything.

“They're dying planets, Aikka. Dying. The place they land and create mayhem is a grave, although they shine so beautifully. They cling to life, though. The beauty remains, even in the worst of moments. Even when they really want to be ugly again, up in the sky and remaining a harmless dull rock.” She snapped brutally, before shooting to her feet. His eyes flashed dangerously in return, the helpful smile gone and replaced with a cold sneering look. She knew he'd never hurt her, but still. She'd been cruel. She'd stepped over the line, and she knew it from the moment she'd mentioned them. But she juts hadn't been able to stop herself. She was stubborn and arrogant, knowing nothing of composure and she wouldn't go down without a violent fight.

“So Molly, where are you today? Ugly and high up, harmless, or shining so beautifully it's going to break my heart?” He said bitterly into the night air as he stood up, staring directly at her. She met his eyes with a dark look. She'd done it already, and she'd never even known. She'd thought it would take more. But to him, this clearly wasn't just another teenage romance. This was breaking his heart. Truly, madly, deeply he'd fallen and she hadn't been able to stop it like she thought she would be able to. She hadn't even known.

“How long?” She whispered, tears stinging her eyes despite the fact she didn't want to cry. She never cried. Not when her mother died (she was too young to understand), not when her father left her at that awful boarding school (he couldn't do any better at the time) and not even when Jordan had left her (because he'd saved her, he'd damn saved her and she should have been proud of him) but she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself pretty soon because she didn't know what else to do.

“The day I met you. It happened then.” He replied, like it was a taboo topic. She stilled, closing her eyes. Jordan had learned to love her. Aikka had never known he loved her. Yet, although she was surrounded by all of this love, she had yet to learn to love herself. It was a difficult thing, to accept what you had done and what you were meant to do. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to live this life. Jordan was supposed to be the free one. He was supposed to be at home with his loving family, and she was supposed to be in a boarding school and she was supposed to have never have met either of them. But she'd altered her own fate with her own two hands. She'd messed everything up.

“But I'm not beautiful like you.” She muttered. His eyes frowned with the rest of his features, his smile down turned and thin, before he grabbed her hands. She was ready to use them to shove him away, but he stopped anything she could do as a protest against him in the simplest of ways. His lips crashed down on hers in an instant, silencing her effectively. The most beautiful things were the most hurtful, and although she wasn't beautiful she was warm and caring. She was dangerous, and she didn't even know it. It was all because she was too easy to love.

“It's not about being beautiful. Everything I can give you, I will. I can give you what you need, and in return all I need is you. No matter what.” Aikka stated his broken promises easily, clinging to her, holding her close. The tears slid unto his white shirt, making it stick to him, pressing it against him like he was pressing her against him. Almost as though as long as he could hold her, have her as his, everything was fine.

Oban fell that night. She saw it fall, held so close by Aikka on that blanket, clinging to the one thing she had left. The Prince. He was the one thing she could depend on, the thing she could learn to love. But still, she hadn't managed to move, hadn't managed to reach out her hand and stop Jordan from falling. She hadn't saved him like she wanted to, hadn't caught him. She cried when the Prince fell asleep on her lap, whispering the same words to herself over and over. She hadn't saved Jordan. Hadn't caught him. But she refused to let it happen again. Aikka didn't deserve to fall.

“This time, I'll catch you.”

Oh, deary me. Angst in time for Christmas, I am becoming an awfully cruel person. Abusing the fandoms I love, honestly. Fave-and-run is hated, give me a Christmas gift?

In other words: reviews are loved, aye. ;)