"This is my home
With my father, mother, brother
Oh so noble, oh so strong
Now I am home
Here among my trappings and belongings
I belong
And if anybody doubts it
They couldn't be more wrong..."
-All I Ever Wanted from The Prince of Egypt

Nick Sayre walked through the front door, dropped his charred backpack in the hallway, and stood in the entryway to the kitchen.

His father dropped the plate he'd been holding.

"I'm home," Nick announced hollowly.

For what seemed like an eternity, there was nothing. No sound, no response. No movement, no grateful hugs. Nothing but the shock and the staring and the indecipherable expression. Nick had expected—well, nothing less. After everything that had happened, he deserved nothing less but than to be turned away. He'd be fine with it and head to Oreburgh to accept his fate with no further argument or protest.

Nick would have confessed to anything, explained everything, would have said something himself, but his throat had closed up. It was all finally coming home (him too), and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stay there, standing there, waiting there. His heart couldn't take much more static.

His father took a jerky step forward. Nick almost jumped from the suddenness of it—but that started it. He wasn't sure who started moving first, but soon enough, his father had his arms around him and he had his arms around his father and they may have been tears and definitely words but just to hear each other's voices after so long.

It wasn't long before his mother came downstairs, and of course, her reaction was much more prompt than his father's. She had always been quicker to give her boys hugs, anyway. She threw herself at the both of them.

It wasn't grand or overly special. It was just him coming home. For the last time.

He told them everything. Apologized profusely. Held back tears the entire time. They didn't say much—at least not judgmentally—but listened, and that was enough for him. It didn't take nearly long enough, though, and then, he was left with all of this extra awkward time before he'd give himself up. The police were going to be called at four, and it was hardly two-thirty. It wasn't a mercy.

Nick considered going early, changing the plan. He only meant this to be a last goodbye before prison or execution. He wasn't sure he could handle that end result if he got attached to them all over again... But then, his father suggested something that halted the thought process.

He didn't suggest seeing Matthew's room or his pokémon. He didn't suggest staying or running away or calling the police right away.

He only said, "There's a Twilight Zone marathon on."

So Nick curled up on the couch with his parents on either side of him. It was exactly like when they were younger, when they were still a family, when Matthew was still alive. He'd come home from journeying and they would watch old sci-fi reruns and marathons together. Fargo would lay out across their laps and sleep, and Chase would always get the back of the couch near his trainer's neck. They were really the only two pokémon his parents had ever allowed inside for any amount of time, and even then, only when they had been little.

It had been so long since they had done this.

And soon enough, Rod Serling's face and narration got harder and harder to take in. His sight got blurrier and wetter, his breath started to catch, his hands started to shake in his lap. The twists, so aged, could hardly penetrate the fog of his mind. Dread was starting to set in, pushing out the calmness he'd felt as he'd walked in. Not his parents or his tradition or his nerdiness could keep it at bay.

Until his mother idly remarked, "I've always wanted to take my hand to the backside of that boy." The infamous episode with its infamous brat continued on in spite of her comment, but Nick couldn't help it; he burst out laughing.

The tension and stress were still there, but now they had an outlet. He let himself fall onto his mother's shoulder, still chuckling weakly, tears finally falling down his cheeks. If only Matthew had still been there, if only. Then they could have done this whenever he came back and even if his pokémon were too big, at least his family would still be together. They could have gone on forever like that, with old science fiction and the lights dimmed and the couch too small to hold them all but them trying anyway.

Nick shut his eyes and felt the tears start to dry. He had one more episode before his time was up, and now, he wanted all the time in the world with them. But any time he could get was a gift. This already was.

"Can I leave my remaining team here? I'm sure they'll come for them eventually, but..." Eyes still closed, he spoke softly enough—he was hoping to be drown out by the television. No such luck.

"Of course."

All the permission and approval and catharsis he ever needed. One last thing to get off his chest, though, one last mistake to admit to. Another tear leaked out from under his eyelid. He wasn't strong enough to stop it. "Chase is dead." His voice didn't shake. His heart did instead.

Nothing could be perfect anymore. Not even this. Matthew and Chase. All he'd ever wanted, the only ones he had wanted to protect. He'd failed.

The police came with sirens and guns and shouts and snarls. They were twenty minutes in to the next episode. Nick didn't move as they burst through the door, although his mother jumped. No one said anything as he was hauled to his feet and lead out. Nick only tried to watch TV as long as he could; he could not look at his parents any longer.

As they finally half-dragged him out into the hallway, the librarian on the television announced, "Let's see how an official of the State dies, Mr. Chancellor."

Nick burst out laughing once more, this time slightly more composed. No more tears, at any rate. The cop on his right started at the sound, but before anyone could ask the criminal, he said, "I wish I had used that one on Cynthia."