AN: As usual, I don't own anything. Contains mild spoilers for "Witch Ain't Dead." All feedback, including constructive criticism, is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy.
Surprisingly, Ray Ray was very good at playing possum. Not that it was easy. Sometimes he felt he would start vibrating if he didn't move, but it was worth it--people did all sorts of interesting things when they thought you were asleep.
June ... June did stuff that was just plain weird.
Sometimes, after she became the Te Xuan Ze and he started following her on her adventures ('cause that's what they were, no matter what she said), he woke up in the middle of the night and she was sitting on his bed. Without opening his eyes, he knew it was her: she always sat so lightly, on the very edge. Too lightly to be his parents and not clumsy enough to be Dennis. Then there was the smell. June was girly enough to obsess about being clean--which he didn't really get, as often as she got slimed or oozed on or dragged through mud every day, but whatever--but she still always smelled a little bit like sweat and dirt mixed with lavender shampoo. Like safety.
Most of the time, she just stayed a few minutes, but once or twice he guessed it had to have been an hour or more. She always held his hand and even brushed the hair off his forehead every so often.
Majorly weird, and the first few times she had done it, it definitely creeped him out a little.
Then Auntie Roon tried to fry him. That night, she fell asleep leaning against his headboard and clutching his hand in a painless but unbreakable grip, and even though she was gone in the morning, he finally got it. Every night she showed up, something had tried to eat him, or put him in a cage, or zap him, or turn him into a dodo. But the danger was over, usually cause she beat the tar out of it. She always beat the tar out of it. He guessed she thought something bad would happen to him anyway.
Yeah, right. His sister was a superhero, with powers and everything. She was a good guy--well, girl--and the good guys just didn't lose. Ever. Especially when they had helpers like him, and Monroe, and Leela and even Dennis, the magical dork. But he didn't hold it against her, 'cause he knew she stressed and needed to deal with it somehow. And he couldn't say he didn't like the attention, even if he knew he was perfectly safe as long as she was around. He believed that with everything he had. It had to be true, or ... he couldn't think about that if he tried.
That's why he especially hated nights like tonight, when the calloused hand that held his shook just barely and he couldn't help but remember how close the bad guys had come to winning, and wonder if maybe he was wrong.