The body was stiff and nearly motionless, only a random shake or seize every few minutes showing any signs of life. Vincent held out a paw in hopes to feel the warmth of his friends body as some sort of proof his friend was still alive. "And you found him like this at school?"

"Yeah, he was collapsed, backpack on top of him. It looked like he had been holding his head."

The warmth Vincent felt coming off his friend's body seemed exactly as it should be. Yet, this warmth only reached the surface of his fur and skin, quickly destroyed by the cold blood beating through his veins. "I'm so sorry." As his brother had carried him over to the house next door, Peter and Alex had talked about what had happened all across the town. Apparently, there had been a massive blast that engulfed the town and showed no sign of stopping at the city's limits. Buildings morphed, changed, or disappeared completely. Most people had disappeared, with the few remaining being mostly complete families with a few exceptions.

Vincent was overcome with guilt. His actions had destroyed hundreds of lives at least, which was already bad enough, but seeing his comatose friend cut at his veins. His cold heartbeat began to pump tears out of his eyes. He fell back into a sitting position, holding his head in his hands. Tears began to pour out, and he gave no attempt to stop crying. It wasn't his instinct that was overcome with guilt. It was his humanity.

Tears flowed out of his eyes, the fur on his paws becoming immediately soaked. He destroyed the town he'd lived in since his birth. He murdered hundreds of people. He was a monster. Being so engulfed in his grief, he didn't notice he'd been scooped into Peter's hand. Even when he did notice, he didn't mind being cradled. Be it his childish need for compassionate touch, or his human need for comfort, some part of him desperately needed his brother's embrace. He went from crying into his paws into his brother's shirt. Peter's hand caressed the back of his head as he cooed, "What's wrong little guy?"

Vincent gave no attempt to speak. Not only because he knew he wouldn't be understood, but because he had no idea what he would say. But even if he knew what to say, would he have the courage to? How could he admit to all this? If anyone knew that this had been caused by him, he had no doubt in his mind that he would be cast out of society, abandoned by his loved ones, sent off into the wild to be eaten by a predator.

"Does it think he's dead?" Alex offered.

"I don't even know that he has a concept of death. And even if he did, I've never seen an animal brought to empathetic tears. This little creature's been full of surprises."

"All these monsters are surprises." Alex's tone bled with disgust.

"Chill out. Some of the animals are dangerous, but I'm sure for every dangerous one, there's one as harmless as this little guy."

"You say he's harmless, but you had to make him promise not to use electricity before you let him come with you. That thing could probably seriously hurt you, me, or even Chris!"

Peter gave his friend a harsh glare before shifting his attention back to the crying mouse. "Come on, little guy. It's all right. He's not dead, he's just... sleeping." For once, even though Peter's voice was still loud and low as ever, it was extremely soothing to Vincent. Perhaps it was because it was his humanity that needed comforting, or perhaps it was because his body was becoming increasingly more comfortable with humans and human contact. Regardless of the reasons behind it, his tears ebbed away until they became little more than an occasional sniffle.

Peter placed him back onto the bed, softly asking, "Are you okay now?" Vincent nodded his head, using one hand to wipe a few remaining tears from his face. He shared one last glance with his brother before he awkwardly shuffled around and stumbled over to his friend's comatose body. He reached out a paw to feel Chris's body heat once more so he could make himself certain his friend was alive. Chris's head was about as big as his entire body was now. He chuckled despite himself: even though he was normally extremely sensitive, Chris was the one person that could help him laugh at himself. One of the more consistent jokes Chris would tell, in more ways than Vincent could recall, was how much taller than Vincent he was.

This modicum of joy was robbed from him by Alex's harsh and accusatory voice. "Are you sure that thing's not going to hurt Chris?" Vincent flinched, but he didn't turn around to face his prosecutor. There was no point. He had no way of voicing his defense in any way Alex could understand. He just stood next to his friend, looking for any movement at all.

Peter spoke up for him. "Look at the little guy! Does he really look violent to you?"

Vincent heard no response from Alex, and so continued to examine his friend's face for any sort of movement. The only motion he saw was his friend's breath and Peter's hand going to rest on Chris's forehead. "He doesn't have any sort of temperature. He looks fine."

"Well he's clearly not!" As his brother removed his hand, Vincent put both of his up against Chris's face.

He began to push on his head to try and wake him up, mumbling, "Wake up. Please, please wake up." His pushing became frantic and his voice followed suit. "Please! Please wake up!" Tears began to flow out of his eyes once again. He almost screamed when his brother pulled him back, but he didn't take his eyes off his friend.

"Hey, hey! No!" He didn't acknowledge his brother's reprimanding. Chris's eyes had opened. Vincent's heart skipped a beat.

He turned frantically to his brother and almost shouted, "Look, look! He's awake! I woke him up!" as he frantically pointed. He shook off his brother's loosening grip and ran up to Chris. His eyes were blank, his face was exhausted despite having just woken up.

Vincent stepped back as Chris turned his head. His eyes shifted over to Alex. "Alex? What are you... why is everything so loud?"

"What do you mean?" Alex ran over and knelt down by his little brother. Chris's gaze didn't follow. Instead, it fell on Peter and then, confusedly, Vincent.

The two shared eye contact for a moment, Chris's face becoming more and more confused as they stared at each other. Almost hesitantly, he opened his mouth and asked, "Vincent?"

Vincent's eyes shot open and his heart began to beat out of his chest. He squeaked, "Yes! Yes, it's me!"

Chris recoiled and clenched his eyes shut, mumbling, "So loud," before once more going comatose.

Vincent ran up to his face once more. Chris knew! He had no idea how Chris knew, but somehow he did! He felt his excitement well up within him, filling and flowing through his veins. It wasn't until his cheeks shot out electricity and he felt the back of Alex's hand smack him off the bed and across the room that he realized what that energy had really been. He lay sprawled on his back, too disoriented to move, think, and barely able to breathe. Before he could recover, a hand grabbed him by the throat and Alex's face was suddenly inches from his own.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't squirm his way out of Alex's hand. He couldn't think of any way to get out of this. His vision grew dark. He could hear that Alex was screaming, but he couldn't understand the words. Moments before he lost consciousness, he felt the grip release and moments later his body slammed into the ground. He gasped desperately for air, his throat throbbing with each pant.

Instinct and intellect for the first time seemed to be in agreement: he had to run. His vision gradually cleared, and along with it came immense pain. Yet, despite the pain and fear overwhelming him, he didn't feel the need to cry. Instead, he began to feel his blood boil with adrenaline. He shot onto all fours with newfound vigor and scurried underneath the bed he was on top of moments ago, getting as close as he could to the wall and middle of the bed to make sure he couldn't get grabbed by anyone.

His cheeks and body filled with electricity, but the electricity being produced felt different: though it was on the edge of his cheeks ready to be released, he had it under complete control. He felt his mind squelch as he grew a greater understanding of his body's electrical abilities. His humanity was too overcome with adrenaline to fight back. His attention went to his ears and he began to listen to try and figure out what the two humans were doing to try and capture him.

"Stop screaming at me! Stop talking! It's killing my head!" Vincent was confused. The voice complaining about everyone screaming was Chris's. But Chris was the only one screaming. "No I'm not! Why won't you three listen to me? You're yelling so loud I can hear you in my skull!" Vincent became even more confused. It was almost as if Chris had responded directly to his thoughts. Not only that, but there were only two humans in the room.

Does he know I'm in here?

"Of course I know you're in here Vince! You're talking so loud it's killing me!" The adrenaline rushing through his veins evaporated. His mind stopped. He couldn't have heard that. He didn't hear that. That wasn't true. He was hallucinating. He was dreaming. He was the only one that heard that.

But he wasn't. Finally, another voice spoke. It was Peter. He spoke in a hushed voice. "Chris, calm down. No one's screaming except you, and Vincent... he's... he's not in the room."

I have to be going insane. That's it. Transforming drove me insane. My human mind couldn't cope with being stuffed into this body, and now it's self-destructing.

There was silence for a moment, but then Chris's voice returned, now almost whispering. "I can hear you... in my head... he... Vincent? You're not crazy. What do you mean transforming? Where are you?" Vincent couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Regardless, he felt compelled to respond. His mind began to convert what he was going to say when Chris interrupted. "How could you fit under my bed?"

How can you respond to things before I say them? Can you hear me think?

Despite not expecting a response, he got one. "I can hear you talk. Are you not-"

A confused and frustrated voice interrupted both of them. "Who are you talking to Chris? No one's talking to you. Are you... hearing voices in your head?"

Chris responded to Alex with indignation. "What? No. I'm not just hearing voices in my head. I hear you guys. You, Peter and Vincent."

Vincent recoiled when he heard his brother scream, "Vincent isn't here! He disappeared, just like at least half the population! Shut up about Vincent!" He could hear his brother begin to sob.

Vincent desperately wanted to go and console his brother, but fear held him back. He wouldn't understand you anyway. He can't understand pichu.

Chris's next words were shocked. "Wh-what? How did half the... how did...Vincent... disappear? I can hear him as clearly as I can hear you."

I have to go out there. If Chris can really hear my thoughts, he should be able to recognize that it's me when I come out from under the bed. As he began to take tentative steps forward, he heard Chris begin to talk.

"Can y'all not hear that? It's clearly Vincent! He said he's coming out from under the bed so I can... recognize him."

Vincent ran out from under the bed before either of the two could respond to what Chris had just said. Before he could even look up, a hand wrapped around his throat again. He struggled and squirmed as much as he could, but to no avail. He recoiled to Alex shouting, "What did you do to my brother? I know it was you!"

Vincent looked at Alex with pleading eyes. He shook his head violently to try and say he hadn't done anything, but Alex clearly wasn't backing down. Alex opened his mouth to speak again, but a fist hit his face and blasted him across the room, forcing him to drop Vincent and clutch his jaw.

The impact with the ground Vincent was expecting was stopped by Chris's hands. A breath of relief became one of excitement as Chris brought him up to eye level. Without thinking, he shouted, "Chris! It's me! I'm Vincent!"

Chris's face was completely blank, eyes opened wide. Without a word, he turned around, put Vincent on the bed, and then crumpled into a fetal position mumbling, "I've gone completely insane."

Vincent hopped off the bed and started towards his friend, but Alex knelt in his way. For once, Alex's attention wasn't focused on killing him, but instead on comforting Christopher. "What's wrong?"

Vincent carefully went around Alex, doing his best not to get his attention. "I... that... the pichu... I heard... I thought I heard it talk... it sounded like Vincent but... didn't at the same time. I heard two voices. One I heard like normal, the other was in my head. It said... it said it was Vincent." This increased Vincent's frustration tenfold. He was about to shout out that he really was Vincent, but Christopher interrupted this tirade. "Even now! The voice is shouting that it really is Vincent! Where is Vincent?"

Vincent's pathetically desperate, "I'm right here!" was completely ignored.

Instead, he saw Peter kneel on Chris's opposite side. "We... we don't know where Vincent is... a lot of people-"

"Have disappeared with no explanation," Chris interrupted. In response to Peter's bewilderment, Chris explained, "I can hear you in my head before you talk. I... I think I can hear your thoughts." Alex opened his mouth to respond, but Chris interrupted with, "Chris, don't be ridiculous. You can't just suddenly hear our thoughts, that's crazy. That's what you were about to say! Right?"

Alex, surprised sputtered out, "Word for word," but before he'd even finished speaking, Chris looked back at Vincent.

Before he could react, Chris had harshly lifted him up by the torso and pointed a finger directly in his face. Chris seemed completely unfazed by the stray bolts of electricity as he nearly screamed, "Say something only Vincent would know!" Jarred, Vincent couldn't respond before Chris shook him and shouted, "Something! Anything!"

Too scared to think of any decent answer he just sputtered out, "My full name is Vincent Vandergrift!"

This earned him another shake and a loud shout. "No! Anyone could know that! Tell me something Vincent knows but I don't! Tell me... tell me..." his gaze shifted across the room until it landed on Peter. "Tell me Peter's favorite color!"

Terrified of another shaking, he thought as hard as he could before quickly coming out with the answer, "Dark blue! Really dark but not... not..." his heart raced as he realized pichu didn't have a word for navy. While this made perfect sense (it's very rare that any sort of rodent species would become evolved enough to require any sort of military, especially not on the water) he shrunk away in fear of another shake. It didn't come.

Instead, Chris whispered, "Vincent? Is that... is that really you?"

Without any hesitation, he shouted, "Yes! It's me!"

"How... how did this happen? How did you... Why can I..." These fragmented questions brought out a flurry of emotions from Vincent as he recalled all the events of the past day, giving him no ability to speak. Instead, all the pain, fear, uncertainty, loneliness, and grief came out at once as he once again began to cry. But these tears gained a hint of joy to them when Chris pulled him into a tight embrace and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, you're not alone anymore. I'll help you through this somehow. Whatever the hell has happened we'll face together."