When Julian and I were little, we wanted to go to the moon.

We would sit patiently on the rickety swings by our houses, or on the crumbling jungle gym, with a back pack full of sandwhiches and granola bars and wait for the jungle gym to take off, or for one of us to swing off towards the glowing orb in the sky. It never worked, and every night, when our mothers realized we were out of bed and hollared at us from across the street, Julian would look at me with his odd blue eyes and smile. He looked like he was crazy, and that he was the wisest little boy on the whole street. And he would say,

"Don't worry Ivy, we'll make it there one day."

And then we'd grab hands and run home. Because we were afraid that some monster lurking in the deep shadows of the night would swallow one of us whole. But we never said it out loud.

And while Julian and I sit here, on the shiny new jungle gym they put in a few years back, I know we're both thinking about the same thing. Because the moon is full and perfect, and we have the chocolate-peanut butter granola bars in our pockets and the ruby red juice boxes in our laps. Julian's staring at the sky, concentrating on something I can't see, and I'm content looking at him. Because he's a lot more interesting than any dead rocks in the sky.

"What's the story?" I ask, slowly peeling away the wrapper in my pocket. I promise myself I won't eat it until I'm actually hungry, but I know it's melting, even though it's cold enough to need a coat, and all I can taste is melted chocolate and peanut butter.

Julian stares at me with unchanging eyes and cocks his head to the side. "Story?"

"Not literally, I mean, like...what're you thinking about?" I try and make it make sense in my head, and it doesn't. But Julian's clever, even if he is insane, and gets what I mean.

"Nothing really..." He let's the "really" trail, like it's some sort of word trap.

"Liar," I nudge his arm and he smiles. "Tell me what it is."

"What what is?" He asks, as innocent as he can be.

"What ever deranged adventure your planning out in your head is."

"I thought we were too old for that." He says, trying to keep his hair out of his face. It's a windy night and his hair's too long to stay put, but too short to do anything with. He won't cut it, because he's stubborn.

"We are, but you're just going to be quiet and all...whimsical until I agree to whatever it is, so let's just cut to the chase. What is it?"

"Me?" He gives me a startled look, like there was someone else I was talking to. "Whimsical?"

"Just shut up and tell me."

"It's nothing really," He assures me, and then adds. "It's just, I was wondering what it'd be like to go to the moon."

"Probably not fun."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's a rock with no oxygen and no gravity and it just kind of floats there, and I'm sure it has a purpose, but I don't know what it is. And I mean, who wants to float around in a space ship for a few months or however long it takes to get to the moon? There's too much...white...besides, you could never be an astraunat, you used to get sick on the merry-go-round." I'm superior right now, because I'm smarter for once. Julian obviously didn't pay attention during science...ever.

He glares at me for a moment, and then starts grinning his maniacal grin.

"Not that moon stupid."

"Hey..." My pride's a little wounded, but I don't say anything else. He didn't really mean it. I think. "Then what moon?"

"Not the real moon...the," He does something with his hands, that're hidden in the sleeves of his hoodie except for his pale fingers, like he's trying to show me what he means. I just blink. "The idea of the moon...you know..."

"Umm...no." I just stare and blink at him.

He sighs dramatically and lies down on the cold jungle gym. "You're impossible Ivy."

"Hey, don't get mad at me because I don't understand what you're talking about. You're crazy, remember?"

"Yes, but at least I know what I mean. If you were a bit crazier, you'd understand too." He says, squirming on the hard metal.

"I doubt that," I finally give into into gluttony and take the granola bar out of my pocket. It's mushy, and gets all over my hands, but I don't mind. Somehow, it's the very taste of my childhood. Chocolate and peanut butter.

"You doubt too much. Whatever happened to blind faith at whatever I said?" He smirks at me, peculiar eyes glittering in the light. That's how my grandma describes Julian, peculiar.

"I grew up," I nudge him a little with a chocolate-peanut butter covered hand and he grimaces a little, the mirth still lingering in his eyes.

"You're at that stage." He says, quietly and wistfully.

"What stage?" I quirk and eyebrow and nibble on my granola.

"That stage where you stop believing in...well...everything..." He says.

"Explain."

"Would it kill you to say 'please' once in a while?"

"Definantly."

He sighs, lazy smile on his pale lips. "Imagination's your best friend as a kid and your worst enemy as a teenager."

"And?"

"And."

"There's no more to your words of wisdom?"

"Not wisdom, an observation." His smile widens just a little.

"Alright, any more to your observation?" I squint at him.

"Not really...It just becomes your best friend again, the older you get, little by little."

"Huh," I shove my sticky hands in my pockets and whistle, low and loud. "Didn't really think that last part out as much, did you?"

"No," He sits up in one liquid motion, and starts looking up at the sky again.

"So, tell me about the moon." I say.

"What about it? Isn't much to tell about." He says, playing with his hair again. It doesn't like to stay behind his ears.

"Just...tell me what it's like..." I poke his palid cheek for effect. I'm not sure he even notices.

"It's like...everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything you ever thought it would be like when we were kids."

I don't tell him I thought there'd be unicorns and faeries and diamonds and saphires. I don't tell him about the sheep with cotton candy wool or the fountain that would let you stay a kid forever. Because that's my moon, and his is different. It's personal.

"Hmm...wanna go home now?"

"Sure."

Julian hops off the jungle gym, graceful as anything, and I slide off after him. We laugh when I hit the woodchips, getting bits of them stuck in my pants and in my shoes. He offers me his hand to help me up and I take it. He's cold and I'm cold, and I don't let go. Because the monsters lurking in the never-ending shadows might try to swallow one of us whole tonight.

Author Notes:
It feels good to finally write something worth while again.

So yeah, umm, follow up to Apocalypse Please I guess. Or maybe it's a prequel, because I know this happened before Apocalypse...so...

The name's really lame, but Moon is a synonym for day dream, desire, idle...and I dunno...it seems really relative to the story.

I wrote this for Clowie and I dedicate it to her. Because she wanted me to write more to Apocalypse, because she pressured me to write, and because she's going away soon...So...merry going to Vegas Koi XD

I guess other than that I don't have a lot to say...I think there should have been a short, ending line at...you know...the end, but everything I put sounded wrong and out of context, so I just left it like it was. There are probably spelling and grammer mistakes, but I'm too impatient to correct them.

Read and review please...it'll make me a happy fish, promise.