The other night I had a thought. What ever happened to Fargo's parents? I mean, we learn that the Fargos have been in Eureka for generations, but we never hear what happens to Douglas Fargo's parents. So, in my dark mind, I thought up a way. Enjoy!

"Marla, honey, come on." Sean turned around so he could see his wife. "We need to get out of here. It's not safe anymore."

'Was it ever safe?" Marla asked. She placed a hand on Douglas protectively, who in turn, looked at her with wide eyes. "I mean, really, Sean. It was never really safe here. We've always been in more danger than in any normal town, but we agreed this was best." She paused. "Best for Douglas and us."

"Damn it, it's not safe enough!" Sean turned his attention back to the road. "We just had to pick Douglas up from school because it almost blew up. To make an even bigger point of what I'm saying, you're sitting back there with him."

Marla's jaw was hard set as she contemplated what her husband was saying. What he was not saying, "Fine. I'll it up there. Will that do it for you?"

"It's a start," Sean mumbled. He quickly pulled the car to the side of the road and turned it off, electric engine immediately quiet.

Marla hopped out the back seat, not before giving Douglas a loving kiss on the forehead. She then jumped into the passenger seat. "Happy now?"

"Happier." Sean turned the car back on. "But Marla, we have to think about his future. Is having the best education in the world really worth all the risks? I mean, he's five and is already dabbling in advanced functions. Does he need more?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Marla asked. She turned to look at her husband. "Look at me, Sean! Look at me!"

He hesitantly turned to look at his wife. "Yes, dear?"

"This is all he has," she said quietly. "You said yourself that moving would b disruptive in a boy's life. Losing all your friends, your home, not to mention he would hate school wherever we went." She paused to glance behind at her child, who gave her a small, unknowing smile. "He needs to be here, Sean."

"He needs to be someplace where he doesn't risk dying. Being bored and alive is better than being dead."

From the back seat came a little voice, small, but determined to fix his parent's quarrels. "I'll be careful crossing the street, mommy, just like you showed me."

Marla turned back around to face the front. "I know you will, honey," she said. "We grownups just have something to discuss, alright?" She paused. "You do some trigonometry questions quietly."

Sean sighed, is eyes still on his wife. "I love you, Marla, but we need to think long term here. We need to-"

Screech. Crash.

It wasn't the pain he was aware of first, or even the smell. It was the lack of a warm hand on is shoulder. The lack of a comforting voice. The pan didn't faze. But the silence did. "Mommy? Daddy?" His small voice sounded so weak to even his own ears that he cringed. "Please?"

"There's one in the back! He might be alive!"

Might be alive? Did that mean he was the only one left? Think, think, what happened? Where were they? His parents? Why couldn't he hear them? "Mommy?"

"I think he's trying to say something." Pause. "Hey, isn't this Prof. Fargo's kid? Hey, Douglas, that's your name, right? We called GD and they're coming. They'll have you stitched up and better in no time at all."

Yeah, he had tried to say something. Douglas forced himself to crack open one eye. But oh, the light! How it burnt his small eye, sending arcs of pain down his spine frying every neuron in its path. "It-it hurts," he whimpered. He quickly shut the eye again and vowed not to open until his parents were there.

"Douglas? Don't worry about a thing. I don't want to move you, 'cause Dr. Arllo told me not to. But I'm here for you, buddy. I'm going to hold your hand, okay?"

"Okay," Douglas managed to get out. "Where are mommy and daddy? Can they hold my hand?"

There was a silence before any of the voices spoke again. "Yeah, I think it's best we stay here with you Douglas. Dr. Arllo told us not to move them, either."

In his mind, Douglas already knew. He already knew his parent couldn't be there to comfort him because they were dead. He knew they were dead before anyone had to try to avoid the subject. "They're dead."

"We're not medical professionals-"

"Dead. Gone. Kicked the bucket. Cold. Breathless. Gone to the farm." Douglas started listing every synonym could think of. He couldn't stop. He was fixated. "Asleep. Offed. Gone. Departed. Passed away. Gone to meet the maker. Lifeless. "

"Please, Douglas, stop."

But he couldn't. "Expired. Late. Checked out. Done. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead."

"Please, just please, stop. Yes, they're dead. But you aren't! Please, just stop this!"

They were dead. His parents. His lifeline. Douglas was five years old, and without parents.