Okdoke, so I've been getting A LOT of requests to not end "The Crash" where I did. But then again, I also didn't want to make it this long, drawn out thing. So here is some nice closure! Um…it's set after Wybie gets his cast off and is all healed up. He and Coraline are both a tad bit older. For anyone who had read "Good Kitty", it's set after that: Mentions "the incident" from my other fanfic "The Crash", While it is not required to read that first, it might prove satisfactory.

Disclaimer: I do not own Coraline. But a girl can dream...

Defender

By: CC333

He had already done it once.

And he'll do it again.

To be honest, that whole morning for Wyborne Lovat hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. Although, when summer is in full run and the only source of company you have lies in a crazy girl, nothing really tends to follow a predictable path.

Wybie chuckled at this revelation as he sat in the middle of the Jone's living room.

He had arrived there about half an hour ago; the house empty of all its residents. Well, perhaps not all of its residents. The teen had spotted Mr. Bobinski completing his morning regiments atop the roof as he rode towards the pink-painted house, but couldn't trace him once he arrived and frankly didn't want to attempt the investigation, seeing as the blue-ish foreigner put him on edge.

Nor did Wybie feel compelled to go out of his way to find Mrs. Spink and Mrs. Forcible. If they were home, which was more or less always the case, they'd spend hours on end grabbing at his cheeks and arguing over which dead beau he "obviously was a reincarnation of". Nope, none of that crazy old lady business today.

Even though breaking and entering- Could it really be called that after all? The only thing he 'broke' was the poor now-smashed bush beneath the window he climbed through- wasn't really his style, Wybie had important matters to attend to, matters that just happened to revolve around Coraline's living room. He knew in advance that she herself would not be home to interfere, nor her workaholic parents who, as much as they truly did try, just didn't have enough time for their daughter, their latest collab project making sure of this with its imminent due date.

Coraline seemed reasonably indifferent to this situation, especially when Wybie had mentioned it a couple of days ago..

"Listen, Wybes," she had began before leaping up to stand barefoot on top of her blue bed comforter, "I'm 16. They're…old. Our lives are just hectic like that."

Wybie had just glanced up at her face and simply clasped his hands behind his back. Even up there, she hadn't quite dwarf him, considering that he had already hit his second growth spurt and height wasn't really a department he struggled in. Quite the opposite really, he himself already being labeled as one of those "ridiculously tall" guys who should be training at basketball camp this summer.

The Hormone Department, however, was a completely different story.

Yes, the occasional girl from school could be caught swooning over him and his large hands, dark skin, and curly hair, now that his "weird back thingy" had dissipated over the years. It was no surprise that he still got away with slouching during classes. The fact that he didn't mingle with the jocks often didn't matter because apparently, quiet and shy was the new sexy. Damn him and his reserved disposition.

At least Wybie had Coraline to bail him out of those awkward situations when he felt cornered by one of his unwatched attachés. She'd swoop in out of nowhere and save the day by dragging him off in any random direction, anywhere that promised freedom. She dismissed the scanty comments that the girls left behind would call out about the two being an item of sorts, waving them off like they were nothing but pesky flies. However, Wybie found himself becoming more and more curious on the matter. She was, after all, one of the few girls that had not made some sort of advancement towards him.

When he had inquired about this too, her answer was sweet and short, as it usually was in relatable moments.

"Why would I want the Wyborne: Love Doll Edition when I already bought the Wyborne: Best Friend Edition?"

Wybie took a moment to ponder his response before going ahead and saying it anyway.

"Because both editions are sexy beasts and no one can ever have enough Wybster."

At this, she rolled her eyes and tried to kick him from her place on his couch. He laid sprawled out on the floor with his hands folded casually behind his head and shirt riding up just enough to see some bare stomach.

"If you want my true opinion on these products, I say they're both pretty ugly"

With cat-like reflexes, Wybie shot up and snatched what remained of the cosmic brownie she was eating before stuffing it in his own mouth. This swiftly put an end to the conversation.

His stomach rumbled in response to this memory. The boy absentmindedly patted it as he stared at the blank living room wall. It hadn't taken much to push the couch over and uncover it, all the while remembering when he lent a hand to the crazy girl when she requested the wall be blocked. Now all that was left was a bare wall with the faint outline of a square. What was he doing?

Wybie crawled closer to the square.

He was ending whatever freakiness was happening behind this wall. Coraline didn't talk much about it anymore and especially not after the...incident. Remembering those hard times, Wybie flexed the once injured arm, now fully healed. It didn't appear that the room itself spooked her anymore, although they rarely spent their time in there. In a sense, she moved on, not quite letting the trauma intercept with the rest of her life.

He gave a resentful snort at this.

Not at all. At that very moment, he thought, she was out there, cheerleading for the local hockey team. It was something that Melissa chick had convinced her to do after complaining about how Coraline "didn't do anything at all!" Upon hearing the news via Coraline that she would soon be an actual cheerleader, an ironic feeling had rushed over Wybie and he succumbed to uncontrollable bout of laughter, only to be glared at by an un-amused petite, blue-headed girl. But really, her? Eliciting cheer in others with only pompoms as her aid? The concept was too much.

She had left anyway, despite his hysterics on the situation.

And so, with the house empty and quiet, Wybie felt ready to get to work.

In his vice grip was an old steel crowbar, found within the depths of his grandmother's shed. Well, he needed something to open a locked door, yes. He raised it high above his head, ready to plunging into the wall and stop whatever menace that had almost killed him twice in his life. Chances that he would hit it in just the right place were slim, but this was Wyborne Lovat, a guy that had an almost interminable amount of free time and thus had plenty of it sharpen his precision with hours of wood and metal crafting. He wouldn't miss.

Or, at least, he wouldn't have, if he had not been tackled to the ground at the last possible second.

The weight wasn't heavy but it was enough to knock away the equilibrium he had once possessed, both physically and mentally. Searching around crazily as he was temporarily blinded by white and blue, he let go of a strangled "Ack!". To the hardwood floor, he and the weight tumbled.

The thud from landing and his own surprise quickly prompted him to shut his eyes tight before they sprung open again, this time meeting light brown eyes, a freckled face, and a curtain of blue hair that surrounded him and made him feel as if they were in a whole different room, perhaps universe. That is, until she began berating him.

"What the heck!? What are you doing, Wybie!?" Getting crushed by you. That's what he wanted to answer, but couldn't bring himself to utter the words; his mouth now strangely dry. The statement wasn't even all that true, Coraline wasn't heavy at all. It was a wonder that she had still managed to send them both tumbling.

Instead, he opted to break a small grin and say something smart.

"Pest control."

Her grip tightened on his arms. He hadn't even realized how submissive he was underneath her there until now, quietly observing her straddled position and how she had pinned his arms to the floor above his head. He lifted his head up and she retracted hers to allow him the space, but she wasn't done yet.

"No…no, you aren't doing this Why-were-you-born."

Her words barely registered in his head. He was too busy to keep the blush from crawling up his neck and onto his face as he realized she was still in her cheer uniform, her shiny blue pompoms abandoned near the archway of the room. A drop of water from her hair fell on top of his nose and a relatively loud clap of thunder surged through the air outside. His eyes widened. How long had it been raining? That bike of his was a goner for sure,

As if reading his mind, she spoke again.

"Your death trap is on the porch. I had to drag that monster up the steps. You owe me….", she seemed to trail off, as if in deep thought, before continuing in a less harsh voice, "but not like this."

His face remained skeptical and he didn't even bother to review the next words before they flew out of his mouth. "But I'm a guy. A man. It's, like, my job to protect you".

"Is that what this is about? Wybie, thanks but no thanks. She's gone."

That was most definitely not the response he had been expecting. Sure, a denial for his help was coming, that he knew, but how exactly did she know that the old wench was gone?

Another mind-read question answered. "I…haven't felt her…presence…in this house for a while now…I think she may have, I don't know, starved or something."

Despite the honest look in Coraline's eyes, the teen still felt apprehensive about it all and it was evident on his face. He rotated his head to the side, away from her, as if in deep thought only to feel one of her hands release its grip on his arm and move to the side of his face, forcing him to look back at her.

"Believe me on this one."

The boy opened his mouth to speak again but was quickly silenced at the feel of her lips against his, her whole body pressing against his. What was happening?

She's kissing you, dummy, a voice rang out in his head. Close your eyes, you creep.

And the boy had no protests against that. Electricity seemed to spark at his fingertips as his head felt lighter than ever. He was drunk with ecstasy, drinking it in as fast as possible.

Seconds later, they separated. Looking square into her eyes, he nodded once before they both picked themselves up off the floor. The only sounds in the room now were the pitters and patters of rain against the roof and windows. Wybie, concluding to himself that awkward silences were definitely not his style, walked over were the pompoms laid on the floor, picked them up before waving them about, their swooshing sound now filling the room.

"So why don't you show me a few moves, cheerleader?"

A fist connected to his shoulder, something he had anticipated and then a gym bag was shoved forcefully into his stomach, something he had not expected.

"Ow".

"Man up, Mr. 'I have to protect you'."

Her tease was only met with deep laughter.

He had done it once and he'd do it again.

The End