My first polyamorous relationship story with these dorks. I'm actually absurdly fond of this one, honestly. I'm totally in love with this polyship, without shame OT6 until the end. I do plan to write at least one other polyfic for them, whether it's a part of this series or not. I'm going to die under all these series, lord save me. Also, I've recently started a new story (stand alone, for my own sanity) called A Death Wish, and yes, I am in fact shamelessly promoting it. I'm working on all the other WIPs, promise. Even Doubt. Can't wait to finish that I'll be so fucking happy.

It's unusual to have more than one name on one's wrist. Not unheard of, per say, though in some places it might as well be. Still. Most people never had to concern themselves with it. Most had one name, and one name only, on their wrist.

Ulrich Stern had five.

He wished he could have hidden them, wished that the extra names were elsewhere, wished that his father didn't know. It had been hard, growing up with so many names on his wrist. People tended to be cut down the middle on whether they thought it was adorable or horrific, and, unfortunately, Ulrich's father had been one of the horrified ones. Ulrich was forced to cover them up, with long sleeves and wrist bands and even medical tape. It didn't matter what the weather was like, Ulrich's wrist was to be covered at all times. The strip of skin was paler than the rest of his body by far, when it wasn't red from irritation.

He had to lie, whenever asked about his wrist. His father had told him what to say, and Ulrich did not dare ever deviate from the message pounded into his head, the excuse that he was simply waiting to discover who he was destined for. He could still remember the words his father said when he looked at his naked wrist. This is not normal, how could this happen to a Stern, this isn't right, this is punishment, he was doomed from birth and on and on and on.

Ulrich clutched his wrist at night and prayed. He didn't really know what for, though sometimes he was able to articulate his thoughts. Let them be safe. Let them be with families that support them. Let them not suffer. Let them be happy. When he was eight years old, one night after such a prayer he had a dream.

He was in some sort of a garden, clean and quiet, with six trees surrounding a small body of water. The water flowed between each of the trees, a stream dividing them. Ulrich lay at the base of one of them. None of the trees were fully grown, and the ground around them each told a story of its own. Two trees to his left, the third tree looked as though it were stuck in winter. Not dead, but certainly hibernating (if trees could hibernate, which Ulrich honestly wasn't sure of). The tree in between his tree and that one looked very healthy. This tree laid in rich ground with beautiful green grass and even flowers surrounding it.

On his right, there was a tree that looked a bit like his. The grass around it wasn't as green as the others, was even brown in places, like his own. Though, admittedly, there was a lot more brown patches under Ulrich's tree. Next to that tree, there was a healthy looking one, and though it wasn't as vibrant as the one next to him, it was still beautiful. The one right across from him however was strangely split. Half was green as could be, while the other half appeared to be brown.

He heard a noise come from its base, and was startled to realize there was someone under that tree. Whoever it was, they were crying, and Ulrich felt the urge to go over and comfort them. Perhaps he could...? He carefully maneuvered himself forward, getting to his feet and stepping carefully into the water in front of him. He found it reaching to his waist, not too deep, nor too cold. In fact, though he could feel it- felt it as firmly as he had felt the presence of his pillow and mattress before sleeping- it did not feel very much like water at all. He paused at the unusual feeling, but another sob from the person at the other side caused him to move forward again. He waded through the unwater-like water to the other side with little trouble, but found that stepping onto the grass at the other side was largely an impossible task. The person who was crying looked up sharply, seeming to have sensed his presence.

It was a boy, or at least Ulrich thought so. He had short blond hair and blue eyes that were clear despite the tears. He was slim, very small in stature. He looked younger than Ulrich, though not by much. He looked up at Ulrich, surprised, looked around in equal surprise.

"Who are you? Where are we?" he demanded tearfully. Ulrich shrugged helplessly.

"I'm Ulrich," he introduced himself, settling in the water. It rippled oddly around him. "I don't know where we are. I like it though. It's... peaceful. Safe." The boy nodded. He wiped helplessly at his eyes, his face clearing of tears as it could only in dreams.

"Why don't you come up here?" the boy asked, gesturing to the spot next to him.

"I can't," Ulrich said, just as his waist, which he had been leaning against the edge of his allowed space, fell forward and he hit the edge, causing his upper body to fall forward to the grass. "I mean I couldn't." Ulrich said in bewilderment as he clambered up onto the land that the boy occupied. The water barely rippled as he left it, slipping from Ulrich's body as though he was made of water resistant material.

"I-I've read about this. I think... I think this is dream sharing." the boy looked nervous. Ulrich settled down next to him in the roots of the tree, sitting on the side with brown grass, his mind glossing over the lack of wetness. "I know your name now. Ulrich Michael Stern, right? I'm Jeremy."

"Jeremy Jacob Belpois," Ulrich recited from memory. "I think I've heard of dream sharing? It's when bonded mates end up finding each other in dreams."

"That's the basic idea, yes." Jeremy agreed easily. "Though the logistics are a lot more complicated. The bond has a certain frequency, as they call it, and we have to be tuned to the same one for it to work. Usually, it's the same emotional frequency, though sometimes similar thoughts can bring it about too. It's rare in underdeveloped bonds. Right now, we aren't even considered properly bonded. It's very rare for bonded people to speak to each other like this before they've met. It's considered a sign of a strong bond."

"Really? That's good." Ulrich said absent mindedly. He found himself rubbing his hand over his bond wrist. It was empty, blank like his other wrist. It felt alien. "So why do you think we're sharing our dreams now?"

"I don't know," Jeremy shrugged. "What were you thinking before you went to sleep?"

Ulrich was silent for a moment. "I was hoping that all my bonded were happy and safe," he finally said. "I take it, since you were crying, that you weren't?"

"Well, no." Jeremy admitted. "I... I had a similar thought. I was hoping the rest of you were happy because at least then it wouldn't be so bad."

"What wouldn't be so bad?" Ulrich turned to Jeremy. Their bodies lay side by side, curled in the healthy roots of the growing tree. Jeremy hesitantly began to lean towards Ulrich. When Ulrich didn't stop him, he placed his head on Ulrich's shoulder.

"The bullying," Jeremy said, his voice becoming quiet. "I figured if I knew you all were safe and happy than it would be easier to handle." They were silent for a few moments.

"Is it just the bonds?" Ulrich asked, unable to stop himself. Jeremy tensed beside him, and Ulrich instinctively pulled him closer. Jeremy turned the half cuddle into an embrace, hugging himself to Ulrich who hugged back. The two boys shifted a bit to get comfortable.

"No. I think they just find that easy pickings. I skipped a grade so I'm younger than all the other students, and I'm the top of my class. They all seem to resent having someone younger do better than them. And to top it off, I'm the only one in the whole town who has more than one bond. Even if I try to hide it, everyone knows." Jeremy buried his head into Ulrich's shoulder. They were quiet for a moment, before Jeremy took a deep breath and continued. "The adults all think it's great, and they don't really believe that any of the kids would dare to make fun of it, so they don't really know."

"Why don't you tell them?" Ulrich asked, frowning as he tried to shift Jeremy into view with little success. "They could make it stop."

"Honestly... I don't really care. I have something they never will. I'm... happy to have these bonds. Their words can't touch that. That's never bothered me, but..." Jeremy sighed, long and deep. "I'm so lonely. No one wants to talk to me, no one likes me, and they can barely stand to be around me. I just wish I had one friend. My parents said it was only a matter of time, but... I don't know how much longer I can wait." He began to cry again, Ulrich clutching him closely, protectively running a hand down Jeremy's back as he let out the pain. They remained like that until Jeremy was better. Jeremy didn't move from where he was though, seeming to enjoy Ulrich's presence as much as Ulrich did his. "What about you?" he finally asked. Ulrich hoped Jeremy didn't feel the immediate stiffening of Ulrich's body, the feeling of withdrawal that suddenly radiated from him, but knew he failed when it was evident even in the movement of the water, which suddenly began to swish and churn where before it had been calm and silent.

"Ulrich it's okay, you don't have to tell me." Jeremy tried to soothe him. Ulrich gripped Jeremy tighter. How could he explain his fear, his shame? How could he tell someone who already suffered enough about something so trivial and yet so important? How could Ulrich even begin to express the myriad of emotions which had surrounded him practically since birth? Ulrich pulled Jeremy even closer as the water churned. Around them, the once peaceful island lost in between lapping waves of emotion, the sound of pain buzzing around.

"I'm sorry," Ulrich finally said. He didn't really explain why he was sorry- couldn't articulate it, feared it, but he promised himself he would one day be good enough for such a bondmate. One day. They stayed that way until Ulrich felt himself being pulled away from that world. It wasn't violent, but a gentle pulling towards his own zone. He was lifted from Jeremy's area and brought through the water to his own zone, where he was placed at the base.

When Ulrich woke up only a few seconds after, though he remembered the moments well enough, the calmness, the comfort, he couldn't place Jeremy's face. He couldn't remember anything but a vague outline. He knew he was blond but so was half the rest of the population of France. Still, Ulrich found himself feeling better, if in a somewhat odd way. He would protect his bondmates, who seemed to have the support of the people they loved. He wouldn't let them get hurt. He would be their protector from people like his father. He would be.

Ulrich still worked hard on his work, which already caused him a lot of problems as he was not the best of students, but from there, Ulrich quickly worked to become the strongest. He was already in several sports and he threw himself into training in a way that scarcely any other eight year old boy in their community ever did.

His father was not pleased, but Ulrich was no longer working to please him. It hurt, it hurt so much, but Jeremy had already taught him something in a single night's encounter: he had something more waiting for him. Ulrich was certain, with a hum in his very bones that he was meant for more. Ulrich would be able to protect his bonded. He would fight for them as no one ever had. They were his and they needed him. It was this, more than anything else that got him through the days, through the nights, and it was this that introduced him to another one of his bonded in the shared dream world, months later.

He was pleased to wake in the dream world that he had once occupied with Jeremy, but found when he looked over that Jeremy was not there. It took him a moment to locate the person who was there, which was strange considering they were right next to him. Or, more precisely, left of him. He had dark hair, dark eyes, a square jaw and at least three inches on him. He lay on the prettiest well-kept ground. He looked over at Ulrich with mild surprise.

"Hello. You must be one of the others. Jeremy mentioned he met Ulrich."

"I'm Ulrich. Who are you?" Ulrich asked.

"I'm William."

"William Anthony Dunbar," Ulrich said with certainty.

"That'd be me, Ulrich Michael Stern," William gave him a charming smile. Ulrich returned it with a more reserved one. William chuckled. He reached toward the edge where the stream ran between them, deeper than it appeared to be. "May I?" Ulrich looked at him considering for a moment. He figured that the permission thing was important, and Jeremy had probably told William about it too. Did he want William to be so close? Well, William was already close, wasn't he?

Ulrich gave William a nod. William reached over and grabbed Ulrich's hand, their hands fitting together with ease. Ulrich had a feeling that the dreamscape helped with that more than a little. William stayed on his side, seemingly not willing to push too far.

"So what brings you here Ulrich?" William asked teasingly. "Were you thinking of exercise?" Ulrich blushed (and why couldn't he control that in a dream, of all places?) but nodded.

"I want to be strong," Ulrich whispered. "I don't anyone to be able to hurt any of you." Ulrich said it with conviction, despite the quietest of his voice. William's expression softened. He reached forward hesitantly, and this time Ulrich was the one to make the move. Ulrich leaned forward, meeting William's outstretched hand, carefully placing his face on William's open palm. They stayed like that for a moment, the stream below them, separating them by the slimmest of margins.

"You have a good goal," William told him, "but don't neglect other things that are important to meet it."

"Nothing else is important," it slips through Ulrich's mental grasp and into the dream world before Ulrich even realizes its significance. William, however, does not miss it. His eyes go wide and he grips the side of Ulrich's head for a moment, before he relaxes it and runs his hand through Ulrich's hair.

"You don't mean that," William said, though the look in Ulrich's eyes tells him he does, and Ulrich knows it. William looks concerned, but also as though he has no idea how to approach the issue at hand. "Just take care of yourself, okay Ulrich? I worry about you." William settles on this response, still looking edgy. Ulrich's smile, before subdued, now shines through his eyes and takes up his entire face. It is enough, for now, to put William at ease.

"I will," he promises. Ulrich is the one to pull William into a hug which is gladly accepted. It feels beautiful in a way only the emotional symmetry of the place can even begin to describe. They shift themselves over the water, which in itself shifts to suit them, and they remain together, connected in the line between until they are both called back to consciousness. Ulrich woke with a smile on his face, and he couldn't help but think of how wonderful it all was. He was already loving the people he was meant to be with, and he bit his lip in the hopes of keeping a goofy smile off his face. He couldn't wait to meet the rest of his bonded.

His joy did not last, however. As he made his way downstairs and toward the kitchen, he caught sight of his mother's face. She looked grim, making his stomach churn. Even at home, his mother was known for her stoic response to all that his father did, from decision making to yelling, there was little that could make his mother change expression, a result of her 'good breeding' as his father called it.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately. She merely shook her head at him.

"Nothing, nothing," she responded, though she cast a backward glance towards the door just as the yelling began.

"Why's dad yelling at Hild?" Ulrich asked, his hand shaking. Hild was so nice to him. He loved Hild, he really did. She was a balm to his father's hatred, to the feelings of worthlessness that piled into him as his father lamented a child born with many soulmates. She made him feel worth something.

"Your father is... displeased by her work lately," his mother said. There was a disapproving line around her mouth. She didn't need to continue for Ulrich to understand what was happening. Fear rooted him to the spot. If his father had made a decision, than it would be followed through. His father rarely changed his mind.

"Ulrich, perhaps you should return upstairs for a little while." His mother, lips still drawn in a firm line, gently touched his arm. Ulrich refused, standing stock still. He could swear that he heard his father angrily say his name.

"He isn't going to fire her, is he?" he asked his mother desperately.

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I really think you should go back upstairs." She tried to pull him away, but Ulrich would not be moved.

"He can't. He can't fire Hild." Ulrich said it blankly. It couldn't be. Hild had been there for ages, way before he was born. She was his nanny even now, when his parents didn't want to deal with him. "What would we do without Hild?"

"We'd hire someone else," his mother replied, regaining her unflappable demeanor more and more with each moment.

"We can't. Hild's family." Before his mother could respond, there was a slamming door on the other side, signaling the end of the conversation. Only a moment later, his father marched into the hallway, still looking furious. He glared at Ulrich, who cast his eyes down and hunched his shoulders automatically.

"Straighten up boy!" Ulrich fixed his posture without a flinch at his father's tone. His mother gave a delicate cough to turn his father's attention to her.

"Should I begin to look for a new housekeeper?" she asked delicately.

"Not yet," he said darkly, "but keep it in mind." His father stalked off to his study, leaving wife and child behind. As soon as his father was out of sight, Ulrich barreled past his mother and through the dining room into the kitchen, where Hild was working. She was continuing breakfast, muttering to herself in German.

"Hild?" Ulrich walked toward her questioningly, his voice shaking. She turned to him, her face softening. Ulrich ran toward her, wrapped his arms around her waist and tried not to cry as he shook with the fear that had ensconced him only a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault, child." She told him, rubbing her arm down his back, careful not to accidently brush his clothes with the flour on her hands.

"But I heard dad say-"

"That is a matter between me and your father. Don't you worry about it." She told him sternly, he could feel her wipe her hands on a cloth before she leaned down and hugged him properly. "Your job is to take care of yourself for me, you understand?" hesitantly Ulrich nodded, though he didn't really believe her.

"So you won't leave?" he asked desperately. She pulled back and put a hand on his cheek.

"No shatzie, I won't leave. I'm sure once your father has calmed down, everything will be fine again. Now, how about you help me make breakfast." Ulrich nodded, sniffled, and got to work. He spent most of the day trailing around after Hild, helping her out and generally trying to stay out of his father's way, as he always did when his father was in a spectacular temper. His dreams that night were once again visited, this time by a girl. She was across from the tree that looked like it was hibernating, and she looked as upset as he felt. The water looked more like a raging sea than a pond now.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, jumping down into the pond between them (which thankfully allowed his passing easily) and wading over to her. She looked over with dull surprise.

"My mom might die," she said, her tone overcast with pain. "She was pregnant with another baby but the doctors said it was too dangerous and daddy told her that maybe she shouldn't have the baby but mom wanted to try so she ended up bleeding all over." She said it all in a rush, and Ulrich wasn't quite sure he understood what she was saying, but he made a sympathetic noise and she reached for him, allowing him to enter her zone to comfort her.

He did so, silently offering her comfort as she leaned against him, telling him all about how she was worried about her mother and how her little brother was depending on her as well as her father because she was the oldest and she had to keep it together while her father took care of her mother and she wasn't entirely sure what to do. He listened and soothed, glad to be able to help his soulmate. His own suffering was not nearly as important as hers. Finally, she calmed down, her mind and easing with the comfort. The waters calmed down some, though waves still lapped at an unusual pace in front of them.

"What happened to you?" she asked, and Ulrich felt bad about being so upset. After all, no one he knew was dying.

"Nothing," Ulrich shook his head, and smiled at her. She didn't return it.

"Jeremy said that we connected when we were feeling similar emotions. So you must have been really upset too. What happened?" she insisted.

"It wasn't nearly as bad-"

"I don't care about that!" she exclaimed, surprising Ulrich. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you shouldn't compare suffering?"

"No, they haven't," Ulrich said, frowning. "In fact, my parents always tell me to think of the children in Africa when I'm upset, because I don't have it as bad as them. Sissi just says it isn't nearly as bad as whatever she's been through that week. Hild listens, but I think that's a part of her job." The girl stared at him.

"That's not right!" she finally declared with authority in her voice. "Your feelings are just as important as anyone else's! And don't let anyone tell you differently!" She said, jabbing Ulrich hard in the stomach, though he couldn't really feel it.

"Um... alright." He agreed hesitantly, not really believing her.

"Alright, so tell me what happened." She looked at him determinedly.

"You really want to know?" he asked surprised.

"Yes! Tell me!" she demanded impatiently.

"Alright, alright!" Ulrich said, a little wary of this bossy girl. She glared at him for another moment, causing him to hunch his shoulders and look away from her as he finally responded. "Dad got angry this morning and he threatened to fire Hild."

"Who's Hild?"

"She's our housekeeper. She's been with the family for a long time. She takes care of me when mom and dad do things, or when they want me out of the way. She's really nice. And it's all my fault that dad was angry because I haven't been able to keep my grades up and have been trying to get stronger instead."

"It's not your fault," she said, pulling him into a hug. "Adults are weird. They do all these weird things I don't think I'll ever understand. Don't worry Ulrich, I'm sure the adults will figure it out. They usually do."

"But what if that means dad fires Hild?" he asked her anxiously, not even thinking about the fact that she used his name.

"Well if she's been with the family for a long time than I don't think he will." Yumi said. "Like when I fight with Hiroki, he's still family so even though we argue we make up eventually and everything is okay again, even if he is really annoying. People who are around for a long time are like family."

"You really think he won't?"

"Nah," she shook her head, "adults yell at each other all the time. Mom and dad fight about everything. Me and Hiroki, money, the new baby..." she went quiet and Ulrich turned to her, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she smiled at him. "I'm sure mom will be okay, and I'm sure your housekeeper will stay with the family. Everything will work out. You'll see." She wrapped him into what would have been a bone crushing hug which he gladly reciprocated. As they both felt better, they began to talk about other things.

"I'm nine, almost ten." She told him, "My birthday is in about two weeks."

"Really? Happy almost birthday. I just turned nine not too long ago."

"Well then happy late birthday," she grinned. "I'm Yumi, did I mention?"

"No, but I know you knew my name. Who told you?"

"Jeremy and William both mentioned it. I told Odd too, but he said he hadn't met anyone but Jeremy yet." Yumi said, before she got a thoughtful look on her face. "That was a while ago though, so it's possible he's met William by now. Have you met him?"

"No, not yet. I haven't met Aelita either." He said, pronouncing the name as eel-ita, having been forced to sound it out on his own.

"No, I don't think anyone has. Jeremy says it's probably pronounced 'eye-lita', and that she's probably a girl. That's her tree," Yumi said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the hibernating tree. "Jeremy thinks that something's wrong and that's why none of us can communicate with her."

"Really?" Ulrich said anxiously. He certainly didn't want something to be wrong with any of his bondmates. Yumi nodded.

"He's worried about it, you can tell. I think he's been trying to find her, but we woke up before we could really talk about it." She sighed. "We've been here a while. I bet we'll wake up soon too."

"Probably," Ulrich agreed, "and when we wake up, things will be better."

"Yeah," she smiled at him, "things will get better. After all, in the future, I'll meet you." Ulrich woke up with a raging blush on his cheeks. It took five minutes for it to die down.

Shatzie is a German endearment that means treasure. It's often used as a sort of pet name for children. My Oma called us that all the time, though with her accent i always thought she was saying 'shatzlie'. There, learned something about me I'm sure none of you knew before.