The small child stood in the middle of the park, wondering what was he doing here. Nothing really bothered him, but he knew that he had to remember something. Even that was a faraway thought right now…escaping from his grip…

He blinked a few times, and rubbed his eyes. Something wasn't quite right with the bright park he sees, whether is was the dazzling smiles everybody had or the golden sunshine that shed light on the place, or it was the amazing warmth he felt against his skin that oddly felt alien…

He heard a voice. A man's voice. His name, being called out.

The boy turned.

He saw a scruffy man, with black hair and an impish grin, waving at him to come over. He knew this man. And his body knew it too – he grinned as impish as the man beyond, an overwhelming wave of love and happiness burst throughout him.

He ran.

And as he ran, he saw another figure behind the man: a beautiful blonde lady with blue eyes. Well, woman, actually. But she was so pretty. And so…loving. So bright and wonderful just seeing her appear made the child bolt even more to reach them faster. He recalled the dim realization that she looked a lot like him – blonde hair and blue eyes.

He ran, and reached them.

He slammed into their legs mightily and buried his head between their two sets of legs, not bothering the fact that they were trying to unclamp his small but amazingly strong toddler arms from their immobilized legs. They finally succeeded.

He beamed up to them, they beamed back. What was it about their smile that made him cuddly? He didn't really understand, but he knew they were really happy. Happy that he came, happy he was there –

Happy they were together.

They both offered their hand each. He took both of them in each of his hand. And just like any other family in the neighborhood they walked, hand in hand, son between parents, down the golden lane of the park. Something about the golden sunlight told him the place he was in was more heavenly than any other place. He remembered the fear of leaving.

That soon disappeared when his parents stopped and pointed at something. He turned, and saw the white swans on the lake. Strange, swans don't come in summer. Or is this light even summer sun?

His mother bent down and whispered something to him, tinged with love and affection. She pointed at the birds, and her son jumped in excitement. The three of them walked to where the birds were.

His father had released his hand, but his mother stayed back, squatting down while she held him tightly as she explained something about the birds again. He couldn't really fathom the words. But he wanted her to continue, because it made him comfortable.

His father came back, holding a plastic bad full of bread crumbs. He grinned and threw some to the birds. Immediately the white flocks swam to the shore and pecked at the surface full of bread. The child was amazed. His mother did the same; casting smaller bread crumbs to them. His father offered him a small handful, too large for on of his small hands. He held them by two instead.

He clumsily threw it. Some hit the water, others landed into the grassy plains near to the water, where he stood. He thought of picking it up, despite it being so close to the water, but his father held his shoulder. Something about his tone told him that he should not be picking up and leave it be. He felt slightly sad.

Just then one swan, graceful and elegant, waddled up to the remaining bread crumbs. It studied the child then gently waddled out of the water. It walked towards him; and pecked at the crumbs. The child was fascinated. Unconsciously, he reached out slowly, just to feel the bird's soft feathers on its neck – It felt so soft!

He rubbed it slowly. The swan didn't seem to mind at first. But it suddenly started and flapped back to its flock. The child was struck speechless due to surprise.

His parents laughed and stroke him once in a while. He wasn't sad, don't worry. But the bird did surprise him.

Suddenly the birds batted their wings and took off, a thousand dazzling whites erupting into the golden sky. Feathers so soft were dropped as they left. They made cackling sounds too.

He tried to take in the view he saw. A giant blanket of white ascending into the sky; the golden sun that too made the sky gold too; the golden grassy plains and park they stood in; the laughter of many other people; the smile of his parents.

Everything felt so right, so good. But why was he feeling terrified? Fear seized hold of him. Despite the distance not furthering, his parents seem to feel further away…..

No, he cried. Don't leave me. Mother, father –

He snapped awake. Grey, harsh cold grey was above him. The ceiling of his hideout. The bed he laid upon didn't feel comfortable. It made his backbone ache like an old man. His head was no good either. Nor his whole body. Bone joints hurt, and so did muscles. Like he had been sleeping for more than a month.

The young man groaned and tried to arch away, when a voice said: "Luke?"

He looked by one eye, and saw an eye-patched teenager watching him. Ethan Nakamura.

Reality came back to him slowly. Frustrated, Luke crossed his arms t cover his eyes.

The teenager didn't say anything.

"I never had it," Luke croaked, his voice breaking, "I never had that life. Not with my mother a psycho and my dad not able to stay in one place. Never."

The teenager still remained silent. But that was precisely what Luke wanted: silence. A comforting silence. No words of comfort would heal him – they'd sound fake. But Ethan's silence, unlike others, was comforting. Truly. Maybe because he was honest and genuine. He never emitted any discomfort or ill thoughts. That's why Luke always felt obliged to talk to him, even if it didn't bring him solutions. That's why he always brought Ethan along to this hideout: a place where the gods not even Kronos could find him. A temporary hideout, so he could ease his grief and nightmares.

"I could have had it," Luke choked, "I could have. What was it that I do to have to suffer, to see this torture? The others were normal. At least they had a normal parent. Why can't me?"

He could feel Ethan's worried glance on him. Bless the lad. What was he crying for?

"I'm sorry," Luke said, "I shouldn't be whining. You had worse luck than me."

Ethan shrugged. "You can't compare your luck to the others unless they are of the same origin."

"Where'd you learn that?"

"My father. He had a funny sense of natural laws."

"…" Luke could imagine how Nemesis fell for him – yuck, "Your eye still hurts?"

"It stopped a really long time ago, Luke. Like, five months. Quit asking."

"Nice mum."

Ethan tensed a bit and sighed. "Get back to sleep. You might see the continuation later."

Luke peeked through his arms, puzzled. "See what?"

"The dream, continuing. Sleep as soon as you get up, then you might still have the connection to it."

"Says who? Did this come out in Greek mythology?"

"No. My dad, again. It's Japanese beliefs."

Ethan tensed again. Luke thought for a while. He turned his back to the teenager.

"No need to apologize, Ethan," he said, knowing the lad had just wanted to do so, "You had a great dad. Don't feel bad telling me that. I'll just hope your Japanese traits or god might work its magic on me – the continuation thingy."

With that he drifted off, in search of the continuation of his golden days. But deep down his soul, he knew it wasn't easy to find, and he might instead wake up to the cold grey again, Ethan the only comfort in reality at his side.