{"sf1_id":1692789,"sf2_id":"ZmMjzWrn","title":"The Leaves of Fall Act 3: Something That Matters (Part 15)","author":"Oliver_Hart","words":2230,"posted_at":"2021-03-07T18:00:13.000Z","tags":["Adventure","Alternate Reality","Anon","Boy","Brother","Bunny","Classroom","Couple","Emo","Fight","Girl","Green text","Greentext","HMOFA","Halloween","Heterosexual","High School","Hmofa/","Human","Kissing","Plot Development","Rabbit","Siblings","Slow burn","Young Romance","anthro/human"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1692789-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-15","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ZmMjzWrn","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/22/6c/226c1953-ba0f-44d4-940b-96ab130d996a","description":"You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.  \n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  \n  \nAbout this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.  \n  \nCover: [https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q](https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q)  \nSam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) [https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT](https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT)  \nFan art collection: [https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv](https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv)  \nAccompanying playlist (WIP): [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410\\_nI-0J](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J)  \nAlternative link: [https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078](https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078)  \nTotal word count: 147,552 words","content":"\\\u003eYou are Anonymous  \n\\\u003eYou are not a strong man  \n\\\u003eBut right now, you could care less about the battery acid sting in your muscles  \n\\\u003eOr the cold sweat threading its way down your face  \n\\\u003eIt's a welcome feeling  \n\\\u003eBecause it means you're keeping Sam safe  \n\\\u003eShe's resting in your arms as you carry her bridal-style up the hill, back towards the church  \n\\\u003eUnder cold and delicate stars, you watch as her timid chest rises and falls  \n\\\u003eHer face isn't relieved  \n\\\u003eIt isn't strained  \n\\\u003eThe worried lines that often bunch up under the dark circles beneath her eyes are absent  \n\\\u003eAll you see is sheer exhaustion  \n\\\u003eYou can still see the frustrated, angry marks pressed into her throat like a necklace  \n\\\u003eThe red lines of fury  \n\\\u003eYou can even see where his fingers had pressed hard — little splotches of red — as if Sam were molding clay and he was trying to sculpt her into everything he hated  \n\\\u003eIt makes you hate her Dad even more than you already do  \n\\\u003eSoon those marks would fade from Sam  \n\\\u003eAnd old wounds will scab over and heal  \n\\\u003eBut the scars will remain, like a broken jar  \n\\\u003eYou can put all the pieces back together, but it will never be the way it once was  \n\\\u003eMike glides up next to you,  \n\\\u003eYou're too intent to hear him  \n\\\u003e\"Can you carry her all the way up?\" He says. “Because if you want…\"  \n\\\u003eHis voice trails off  \n“No. I need to do this,\" you say to him  \n\\\u003eEven if your arms strain and burn, you're going to carry this stupid, brave bun all the way to the top  \n\\\u003eMike is silent for a moment, then says: “Police?\"  \n\\\u003eYour answer is quick and short  \n“No.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Don't you think someone will notice that Sam's dad is gone? I'm no fan of the police myself, but… her dad is dead. There's a body down there.\"  \n“Good. He was a monster trapped in a memory. He tried to murder his own daughter, and then kill himself.\" You cradle Sam's head in the crook of your arms like you would a child  \n“As far as I'm concerned he's better off dead.\"  \n\\\u003e\"You know that was my first time meeting the guy, right?\"  \n“What's your point?\"  \n\\\u003e\"He didn't make a great first impression on me either.\" Mike spits on the ground  \n“You should have been there the first time I met him. I about pissed myself.\"  \n\\\u003eYou were nearly at the top of the hill now  \n\\\u003eYou were tired, sweaty, and your nerves were burnt to a crisp  \n\\\u003eSam obviously had it worse, but at least she was unconscious now and could get some rest  \n\\\u003eShe deserves that  \n\\\u003e\"So no police then?\" Mike asks again  \n“We'll let the conductor call the police — if he ever does. Who knows, there may not be enough of his body even left over to identify. At least, I hope so.\"  \n  \n\\\u003eThe police never came that night  \n\\\u003eAnd neither did sleep  \n\\\u003eAlex and Jenna spoke in hushed voices to each other, often rising from their rickety pews to stretch and ask if you were alright  \n\\\u003eYou were alright  \n\\\u003eYou were watching Sam sleep for hours  \n\\\u003eMike stood guard outside, wielding Sam's baseball bat  \n\\\u003eWhat was there to keep guard from anyway? Do the goths even know where you are?  \n\\\u003eIs their behemoth resting in the school somewhere on the night before their ritual can be completed?  \n\\\u003eIs there someone in this entire conflict that knows peace right now?  \n\\\u003eMaybe it's you  \n\\\u003eWatching Sam, doubled in on herself, not dreaming, not kicking in anxiety, not fighting with demons (real and imagined)  \n\\\u003eWhat you felt at first was concern for her  \n\\\u003eThen, as you laid her on the pew in the front row, like an offering to God, letting the full weight of her being rest, relief washed over you as if it were water from baptismal springs  \n\\\u003eShe was alive  \n\\\u003eWanted  \n\\\u003eAnd breathing  \n  \n\\\u003eAlex drops down next to you, lowering his frame with an exhausted grace so as not to wake Sam  \n\\\u003e\"How you holding up?\" He says with a tired smile  \n\\\u003eHis voice is low and scratchy, and for the first time, you sense there's a small touch of nerve there  \n“You know, one thing I never thought I'd be doing last weekend was… this…\" you say  \n\\\u003e\"I did.\" Alex's matter-of-fact tone gives you pause  \n“Bullshit, you didn't know any of this would happen.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Well, not this specifically.\"  \n\\\u003e\"But I did know we were going to do something important. Something like save the world, and save Sam.\"  \n“Alex,\" you sigh, exhaling your nervous energy. Sleep was just starting to fall on you — or maybe it was exhaustion?  \n\\\u003eYou look down at Sam, who is utterly conked out on the pew  \n“I'm too tired to play games with you right now.\"  \n\\\u003e\"It's not a game though. I just know we were meant for this. Some people just have greatness running through their blood.\"  \n“And you're saying we have greatness in us?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Maybe, I don't know.\" Alex shifts his body nervously  \n\\\u003eHe absently begins chewing on his nails  \n\\\u003e\"You remember when we were on the roof?\" He says, not looking at you, but instead towards the altar, sitting high on steps of polished wood  \n“Which time?\" You say with a heavy yawn  \n\\\u003eWhen is the sun coming up? It's gotta be close  \n\\\u003e\"The first time. On top of the school. So much has changed since then. You, Mike, Sam, Jenna — even me.\"  \n\\\u003eYou close your eyes, fighting sleep  \n\\\u003eIt's kind of true  \n\\\u003eSam — she's proved she's made of stronger stuff than what she's been made to think  \n\\\u003eThat her life is worth living on her own terms  \n\\\u003eShe's not a bad replacement for her brother, a burden or a coward  \n\\\u003eAnd you know that, and somewhere deep inside, she probably does too  \n\\\u003eThat courage will blossom in her, with time, care, and a lot of healing  \n\\\u003eMike… he's kinder to you  \n\\\u003eHe seems to care more about you and everyone else, and especially Jenna  \n\\\u003eHe can't go it alone anymore and he knows this  \n\\\u003eUnfortunately his future is still kind of fucked, but maybe something will change tomorrow?  \n\\\u003eAlex… is Alex  \n\\\u003eAnd you  \n\\\u003eYou're much less of a coward than you were  \n\\\u003eYou can sense an anxious strength in you, and not from the curse that the goths gave you  \n\\\u003eBut from scaring yourself shitless  \n\\\u003eYou've also decided you're going to college, and though the very idea of leaving Ranchview and everyone and everything you know behind knots your stomach, you've decided you're going to do it — you need to do it  \n\\\u003eThe thought of Sam all alone in town, nowhere to go, all alone again while you study in some expensive school's dorm house, gives you pause  \n\\\u003eYou care so much for that stupid fucking rabbit that the idea of not leaving is a genuine option for you  \n\\\u003eYou really, really, really care for her  \n\\\u003eYou'd tell yourself that you have a crush on her, but you know that's not true  \n\\\u003eYou honest to God love her  \n  \n\\\u003e\"Yes sir,\" Alex says in a tired, dragging voice. “Despite all that's changed since last Friday, I do know one thing.\"  \n\\\u003e\"We are definitely doing something that matters.\"  \n  \n\\\u003eSam doesn't wake with the first of the morning's light  \n\\\u003eYou watch it filter into the church, laying bars of gold across the pews  \n\\\u003eOne of them strikes Jenna directly across the face, who is sitting a few rows behind you  \n\\\u003eThe fox squints, as if in pain, and then blinks herself awake  \n\\\u003eShe shields her eyes with the thin length of her arm  \n\\\u003eYou turn to Alex, who is dozing away  \n\\\u003eHis snores fills the whole church  \n\\\u003eThe way they echo off the high ceilings is vaguely reminiscent of a guttural Gregorian chant  \n\\\u003eYou were restless the whole night, obsessively watching Sam, just observing the careful rise and fall of her chest, just making sure she was alive  \n\\\u003eYou forced yourself to fight through sleep and keep a vigil (though you did take some time to read through The Book of Rite a bit more)  \n\\\u003eAnd now the result was a live current of energy singing through your veins  \n\\\u003eYou can feel your heartbeat stumbling in your chest with a misplaced sense of purpose  \n\\\u003eThis happened sometimes — you didn't sleep and then you'd end up with the shakes, but full of energy and purpose  \n\\\u003eStill, going into tonight without sleep may not be a great strategy  \n\\\u003eWell, no sense in fighting it now  \n\\\u003eEveryone would have to be up soon anyway for school  \n\\\u003eSam especially  \n\\\u003eYou don't want her to miss her chance at a GED  \n\\\u003eShe's missed enough school already  \n  \n\\\u003eYou go to shake her awake, but stop short, your hand hovering over her  \n\\\u003eYou can see one of the glossy bulbs of her amber eyes — like molten gold in a crucible — peering up at you through the thick strands of hair that fell over her face in the night  \n\\\u003eYou lock eyes with her, still frozen  \n“… Morning…\"  \n\\\u003e\"Morning…\" she returns, her voice above a whisper, but not by much  \n\\\u003eShe still sounds tired  \n“You… doing alright?\"  \n\\\u003eFuck  \n\\\u003eWhat was that?  \n\\\u003eShe just watched her Dad die  \n\\\u003eEven if she didn't like him, she might still have some weird connection to him  \n\\\u003eWho knows?  \n\\\u003eAnd all you can ask is 'you doing alright?'  \n  \n\\\u003eShe sits up, stretches, and says, rather flatly: “I-I'm not sure. I d-d-don't f-f-feel n-nervous. N-Not like I normally do when I-I wake up.\"  \n\\\u003eShe turns and fixes you with a clear gaze, thick ropes of her falling across her face  \n\\\u003e\"W-W-What do you think t-that means?\"  \n“I… think that's a good thing?\" You say, not sure how to process this or respond  \n\\\u003eShe nods, slow  \n“You look better though. Like there's a weight off you.\"  \n\\\u003eShe doesn't toss her head to the side in evasion, like she normally would  \n\\\u003eHer gaze is clear and steady, like she was looking at you for the first time  \n\\\u003eHer fingers still anxiously drum on the pew, however  \n\\\u003e\"I-I guess? I d-don't know what t-to feel. H-He was n-no fa-father to me, b-but he was st-still my dad.\"  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to speak  \n\\\u003eDo you really think you can help this situation?  \n“Well let me put it like this: do you have any positive memories of him?\"  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003eShe stirs a bit, and then turns her head to stare out the cross-shaped glass window that sits over the altar  \n\\\u003e\"N-No.\" She says after a long moment of silence. “I-I tried t-to think of some b-but I can't. Al-All I ca think of is h-how messed up my head i-is because of h-him.\"  \n\\\u003eYou nod in affirmation  \n“Well look, I'm not trying to ruin any fond memories you have of him, but you were effectively his prisoner — physically and mentally.\"  \n\\\u003e\"You k-know what?\"  \n\\\u003eShe turns to face you  \n\\\u003e\"Y-You're right. I-I-I'm glad he's gone.\"  \n  \n\\\u003eNobody seems to want to talk much about last night, Friday morning  \n\\\u003eYou all sit around in a semi-circle outside your car, which has become something of a morning ritual for you all, a designated meeting post even  \n\\\u003eStill dressed up in your priest costume, you, fruitlessly, try to get people to start talking  \n“Sooooooooo…\" you trail off, unsure of where you were even going to take your sentence. “Today is the day, right?\"  \n\\\u003eNobody speaks  \n\\\u003eGuess nobody really knows what to say after last night?  \n\\\u003eNobody except Sam  \n\\\u003eShe gathers her arms around herself, shivering in the frosted Halloween air  \n\\\u003eAbove her, leaves drift in the wind in a\u0026nbsp; storm of russet brown, auburn red, and gold  \n\\\u003e\"I know l-last n-n-night was…\"  \n\\\u003eShe pauses  \n\\\u003e\"L-Last night w-w-wasn't e-e-easy.. B-But I wanted to th-thank you a-a-all for being there. A-A-And for being-\"  \n\\\u003eShe looks at her father's abandoned car, drifting into a sharp memory of angled features and coarse hands; of devil eyes and devil smirks, imprisoning her; trapped in the grasp of a memory  \n\\\u003eShaking her head, she banishes those thoughts — if only for a moment  \n\\\u003eYou watch her fidget and shake, and know, deep down, she will never be whole again — If she ever was to begin with  \n\\\u003e\"-F-For being my f-f-friends. I don't t-t-think I would h-have made it l-long i-if I d-d-didn't h-have any of you.\"  \n\\\u003e\"None of us,\" Mike chimes in, “would have made it this far without each other.\"  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003eHe looks around, intensely self-conscious and hungover  \n\\\u003e\"But I ain't doing a group hug thing, alright? That's not what I'm saying this is.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Not even as a show of solidarity?\" Alex questions in reply  \n\\\u003eMike shrugs. \"Why do we always have to hug and pat ourselves on the back? I get it — we're all friends now.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Then will you settle for a homo-erotic high-five?\" Alex raises his arm in preparation for a very hetero palm tip-to-tip  \n\\\u003e\"Alright, but you can't call it that. This is purely a high-five.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Gotcha,\" Alex winks at you for some reason. “No homo.\"  \n\\\u003eMike groans and slaps Alex's palm as hard as he can  \n\\\u003eSam and Jenna just exchange looks, while you, the third wheel, the dick between these two balls, just watch with folded arms  \n\\\u003eWell this is as close as you'll get to group hugging  \n\\\u003eAnd that's alright with you","series":{"name":"The Leaves of Fall","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1691402-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-14.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1694931-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-16.json"}}