A/N: I warned you about this long chapter. There's a message near the end that I liked. I hope you can pin-point it when you read. Maybe you can tell me what you think....maybe.

"Carry his other arm, Stanley!"

Wyatt had Brad's arm draped over his shoulder, trying to keep the drunken boy in balance.

"Wyatt!" Munts picked up the bottle from the ground. "What is this stuff, it's killing him!"

"Just get over here and help me, Munts!" Wyatt settled Brad onto the ground. He could see him looking dazed, trying to concentrate his vision to see the other kids starring at him. Wyatt yelled. "He's awake! Guys, he's awake!"

Brad's vision wasn't just blurred, but it was doubled. Maybe tripled. He could see at least three of each boy standing in front of him. Not only that but when he tried to focus on one of them, his vision seemed to zoom in and out unnecessarily. It was impossible to get a good insight on whatever may be happening to him. He had to close his eyes to keep from that chaos. He knew his body was completely limp, and for sure, he knew he couldn't stand. The boys seemed desperate to try and help him, but it was to no use.

Brad shut his eyes, and barely recalled his head hitting the ground, almost like he was numb. This drink wasn't a good sign. He could barely think, his brain was processing at about 3 or 300 miles per hour, so nothing clear came up.

He woke up, getting strange sensations. Hearing himself laugh hysterically at nothing in particular wasn't a side effect that the other boys liked to see.

"It was poison!" Stanley scratched! "I can't believe I said to drink it." He put his hands in his face and sulked. "I'm such a bozo now! I'm sorry guys"

No one really paid attention, but Wyatt got his phone and told his parents it was an emergency and to meet them in the back of the arcade. He asked what soda he had, and told them that the soda had really banged up their friend.

Brad tried to talk, but couldn't have words come out correctly. No clue what he was trying to say, but they made out a few understandable groans.

Brad stood up on two wobbly legs, charging toward the boy he thought he was just mad at, a gruesome laugh filled that kid's ears, Brad was literally going crazy. He ran into a wall, crumpled to the ground, and was still laughing.

"He's scarring me...real bad." Peter was still recovering from shock.

"He's going to..." He slammed his cell onto his palm. "Ugh! Dumb thing! Pick up!"

"You're not calling the cops?"

"Duh! I mean, what is this? Brad's going nuts, and everyone is freaked out. Who else can I call?"

The phone buzzed, and he picked it up, talking into it urgently. It sounded like it may have been the parents.

"Yes, I know! What do we do?"

Wyatt's mom ran out from the arcade cursing a little when she saw Brad being held up by two other boys, so he couldn't fall over painfully, in rist of breaking an arm because of his numb fall, he wouldn't feel it, till the stuff wore off.

"What happened?" She folded her arms and glared at Wyatt.

"That's what we're trying to find out!" Wyatt retorted. "Can you help him?"

"Let me get your father on the phone," She stated.

'No you can't. Isn't he busy?"

She walked off with the phone in her hand.

"Can't you l-l-let me j-just stay 'ere, ma'am?" Brad stuttered, dazed and looking off into the distance. His voice had a lisp, and his talking tone was faster than normal.

Wyatt smacked his own face in embarrassment. "No! Please bare with me for your injury Brad. get something figured out!" "Where's your mind Brad?"

"Um..mm...u-up there! Were I see trees. Real happy tree! REAL happy trees go...g-go to sleep!"

Wyatt gawked at Brad, than turned around. "He's helpless."

"Not my problem." Stanley lifted his arms innocently, forgetting that Brad was leaning on him, and was now on the floor.

"Uh, I beg, ya pardon. A-Am-am I ver...ver-ver-vertical?"

Stanley helped him up again, Brad completely lacked strength in his limbs. "He's heavy!" He complained. "Help me."

Munts rolled his eyes, but ran over to assist Stanley. "So, how long will this last, wise guy?"

"I dunno-" Brad's head fell forward, almost dislocating, until Stanley grabbed his hair, (which would have been painful if he wasn't numb) to pull it back into place. "But, we can all settle with this. We're all dead meat."

"Maybe we can do something." Wyatt broke in.

"Like what?" Peter asked sarcastically.

Wyatt thought for a bit. "My mom knows. But, she doesn't know what happened. Maybe she thinks we're playing."

Munts' eyes widened in horror, and he almost dropped Brad. "Um," he pointed a nervous finger behind Wyatt's head. "You think THAT is pretending?"

Wyatt turned around and gasped. There was a vehicle with flashing lights just across the street. Two officers were standing outside, leaning on the car, and talking. If they turned their heads they would see the kids clearly.

"What now!?" Stanley complained.

Wyatt thought fast. "Come on!" He began a sprint toward the two men, freaking out his comrades completely.

"Wyatt! What are you doing?!!"

"Follow me!" Wyatt insisted. "They can probably help us!"

That living room was almost destroyed. Almost. Luckily it left only minor suspicion on the Cot's minds. Brad's parents didn't give the room a second glance, and Bolt didn't blame them. He had his mind on another thought as well. He had no clue where Bradly was.

He was more than expecting the boy to run through the door. He'd be in that same good mood that he left the house with. And surely he'd be at least a little excited to see his canine buddy again. But, oddly he wasn't with his parents, and that alone concerned Bolt more than anything else that day. He was beginning to worry. His parents were so casual about it, but what was it that they didn't see? Had Brad suddenly become invisible just like him? If anything, Bolt was looking forward to being 'seen' again. And that only person wasn't here.

After what seemed like days of waiting, sleeplessly, Bolt finally got the concentration to possibly feel what Brad was feeling. To see if he was okay. But, at first no feeling came, and that scarred Bolt. He hoped Brad hadn't died all of the sudden, but being where this is, he may have been close. A dark sensation ran through Bolt. No! Please, no! I've seen so much here in this world, I can't bare to gain more regret about something.

Bolt's thoughts concentrated harder, in hopes that the connecting between him and Brad could work at a distance.

His mind was soon cleared, and he could get almost full blown sensations of what was going on. And really...it shocked him.

There was another kid, standing next to Brad. The thoughts seemed to be in Brad's point of view, but they were blurred, and in a way they could make out about everything that Brad was seeing. It was incredible! Bolt had actually hacked into Brad's head somehow! This connection was the strangest connection. Surprising even him for the result it gave.

"Okay, you feeling...just a little better?" The boy seemed to be starring right at him, he felt his head nod. Whoa, he could feel physical actions as well. This was strange, and getting stranger.

"Guys, we've got to do something!" Another boy pouted. "Those cops could be close."

Bolt was just wondering what was going on.

As he went through the feelings that he sensed, he could only come up with, drowsy, and hysterically joyful. Whatever they were asking he was okay about gave Bolt the terrible feeling that this must not be something good.

"I can't imagine what punishment I'll get for this." A third boy was looking sorrowfully at the ground. He had glasses, and blond hair. "My dad is gonna ground me for sure. No Halo. No Super Smash Bros. No Crash, or sonic, or link, or even Mario. My life is over." He sniffled.

The kid next to him put his hand on the boy's shoulder, tapping it. "It's alright, Stan. We're all dead meat together, remember? Not just you."

He wiped his face with his arm. "I think you're right. Thanks. I feel better now."

Bolt remembered at that moment what he'd been able to do seance he and Brad met. He had been able to talk to him with his thoughts. Now, they were connected again. He had to try it.

Brad. Bradly, are you alright?

There was no response. But, he sensed a little confusion in Brad's thoughts. He spoke again. Can you hear me?

"No. Er...yes, I guess." Brad's voice answered as if completely unsure.

You need to tell me what's happening. Get the picture? And don't talk. You can't answer with talking. You'll attract attention. Got me?

Bradly grinned. "What? Yes, no! By the way! Hmph! Storming the sea, storm in the sea. B-bAM! HA!!!" Brad's fingers were in the shape of pistils, shooting at all of his friends. "You're dead, you dead....BAM...you're just hurt, but not dead! I don kill ya! Not yet, no! I kill you mama, though! Waaa-hahaha!!"

Bolt was flabbergasted. Almost to the point to where his concentration was broken. But, he decided to ask. Brad was more than out of it. But, Bolt had a feeling he knew precisely what was wrong with him.

Bradly, please don't do this.

"I'm funny." Brad stated.

You're very funny. Bolt agreed sarcastically.

All of the boys were staring right at him..well, them. They all looked perplexed, probably not a good sign.

"Hey, you said you were feeling better."

"I-yam!" Brad grinned stupidly. Or at least, Bolt was sure he did.

"Just let him fib a little, Peter." Another boy rolled his eyes, as he spoke. Waiting for it all to be over.

Bolt couldn't get this straight. It was like a dream, or something that was just just as odd to experience.

There was a noise in the distance, like a siren, or a booming radio. Whatever it was, Brad showed interest in seeing what it was. He tried to turn his head, but fell over in the process, making everything go static like, and soon the scene was gone.

"Brad!" Bolt yelled, trying to keep the image, but it disappeared quickly. He was back in the living room.

He growled and leaped off the couch. Racing toward the parents room. They had to be notified that their son is in some sort of precarious situation. Something was wrong...and odds are, they don't know about it.

"I'm sorry." Bolt muttered, knowing he'll regret getting Brad told on. If this was what he thought it was, Bradly's future wasn't looking too good at all. His life is already messed up. Is there no end to it all? Was there a stopping point to these horrible situations? Brad can't do this on his own.

He stopped when he reached a closed door. Then again, maybe that's my fault.

"WYATT!" At least three boys tackled hom to the ground, stopping him from going to the police.

"They're leaving!" He protested, trying to shove off the grabs. "We need them!"

"We've already stopped you. We need a better plan! We'll get something figured out! Come on!"

Wyatt shook his head. He couldn't believe everything that has taken place in the last ten minutes. "I have to! They're getting away!"

He rammed one of the boys with his knee and stomped on the others arm around his ankle, and soon he was able to run.

"Wait!" The car was taking off, amazingly oblivious to his yelp.

He ran toward in for just another hundred feet. But it was long gone. "No!" He kicked a rock in anger.

Muntz caught up to him. "Wyatt! Bradly's dead!"

Wyatt couldn't take this, and began to rub the sides of his head. "Are you sure?" He complained.

"Oh, yeah like I would lie about this."

He rolled his eyes, and grabbed Muntz's arm. "Come on." They both ran back toward the where the scene had taken place.

Bolt was scraping helplessly at the door to the parent's room, whimpering and yelping for a possible answer, or a way to turn the knob. Frustrated that nothing could work, he headed down stairs to the living room again, pacing, and completely baffled at Brad's parents. His mind was blank from any bright ways he could try to help Brad, just know where he is, and do something that no one else (hey Mr. and Mrs. Cot) would do.

From what he had seen in the day dream, it was clear as glass that he wasn't in a situation hat has been reported to anyone. But, proving his thoughts wrong instantly after that, there was thumping upstairs, and angry voices bouncing off the walls. Bolt stood up on the rug, suddenly alert that they have found out. From what they were yelling about, it was from a phone call. He heard the mother say "Alright, we're coming there right now!" and the father seemed just as desperately worried the way he tried to ask his wife who was calling, and for what. She told him the whole thing when she stormed down the stairs, followed by him.

She flung her coat on. And almost too quickly, Bolt found the door opened, and at the mercy of a few precious seconds, before slamming shut again. Lucky for Bolt, those few seconds were almost just enough time to sprint out the door, just before he could loose a tail. But, it had worked, and he was finally out of the house.

The car door opened, and whiten even less time, Bolt was able to climb into the car, and as fast as he could, he squeezed through the two seats. He was in the back seat in just that time, and was only too fortunate that no one could see him. It was an advantage for some things. The car sped off. Bolt was praying they weren't too late.

The news got out.

People from all around were rushing into the situation, making it much too large to bear, and whiten the longest time possible, the police arrived with their necessary tools, and to Wyatt's relief, them being there was almost worth a punch in the face, yelling "Where in this world have you been that you COULDN'T BE HERE!!!???" But he kept his mouth shut, and his fists free. Those officers were just lucky for now.

The scene was tapered off, police asked people to stay back, and the fourth grade kids were overwhelmed, and taken home with the news "He'll be fine." And many lectured about the evils of alcohol, enough said and done. There was proof to those wise words, and the kids nodded in understanding. A few hesitated to think about it, but sleep shook that off, it was about one, and they were all dreary eyed. A long sleep had taken the horror from their eyes, other than that, they thought it was funny, and that Brad had put on a great show, that the police ruined.

Wyatt stayed at the scene, and was asked a few questions that had to be answered sincerely and honestly. It overwhelmed him, but he guessed there was nothing to worry about, and told himself to remain civilized. It was all over before he knew it, and he had answered every question correctly, which relieved him a lot more. That was about the time when he heard something gut-twisting. Brad woke up coughing, and almost at the same time, began to throw up. The officer who had helped him get up, luckily had a bag to collect the vomit. Enough said.

Brad was dazed, and had the largest headache. He couldn't muster everything, and appearing in front of dozens of curious people, throwing up. It all seemed too much to handle. He never had woken up to such an embarrassing sight. He was almost on the verge of tears when he saw none of his fourth grade friends anywhere. He was embarrassed, alone, and with a throbbing head. He put his hand to his head and was about to lay down.

The officer next to him clutched his shoulder. His black hand was huge, and his structure even while sitting down was enormous. He had glasses, and almost a bald head, but with some gray hair. His voice was very low, like a bass guitar. And his smile was something he needed. "You feeling okay, son?"

Brad nodded. And reached his hand forward. The man helped him up. Luckily the only thing wrong with him was a headache, and he wasn't put on a stretcher or anything. He was escorted to some place further down the road. Some lobby place. There he was treated for a bit.

The scene was toned down, but Brad didn't understand what was going on. He couldn't muster the courage to ask. But, pretty soon there was a yell of his name, and when he turned his head he was embraced by his mother.

"Bradly!" Her face was in tears. She clutched his shoulders. "What happened? You okay? You're not sick are you?"

Brad was honestly overjoyed to see his mom, but didn't have much memory of what happened the past bit. He saw his dad who looked almost as worried. He embraced his son also. When Brad wrapped his arms around the coat, he noticed how cold it was from the outside. Brad felt one of his own tears drip down his face. "H-how did you get here?" He suddenly felt stupid for asking.

"We got a call." His dad said. "From Wyatt's mother. It surprised me and Clare pretty bad (just a head up. Brad's parent's names are Jack, and Clare. Okay, now we know).

In those few minutes they have talked. Brad was relieved that nothing worse happened, but didn't have much memory of what happened. His parents understood. They walked over to talk to the officers. That's when Brad saw a lonely dog sitting about ten feet away. He looked terrible.

"Bolt?" He whispered, stunned that he was there. "You okay?"He got off of the bench and extended his arms, Bolt didn't move. He didn't even make eye contact. He had a strange interest in the tiled floor.

"We need to talk." He muttered.

Brad nodded. "Can't here." He looked over at his parents, who were busy chatting with an officer. he told them he had to go to the restroom. Clare was almost about to protest, but Jack nodded solemnly. He wouldn't get into anymore trouble. "Be back in five, okay?" He waited for Brad's response. Brad smiled, and nodded. Walking off. He turned back to see Bolt follow far behind him. Brad hated when Bolt acted this way.

Once they were in the hall and out of sight, Bolt told him everything.

***

"So, now there's an empathy link?" Brad was getting his headache back. Getting it all straight in his head. Bolt came here from lightning/comet, not sure what it was. He couldn't talk at first, but later could, he's only seen by Brad, he has greater strength and ability than he had before, he can read Brad's mind the way he can read his, AND now there's this strange connection between them that is linked through thoughts, that can put one another in each others' bodies? Seeing what they see? This made LESS than no seance at all. And Brad wasn't prepared to admit it the thousandth time. He was sure, that was the cause of his headache in the first place.

Bolt looked at the ground again, sighing. "Brad, I'm just as confused as you are. But, maybe there's a reason for all of this."

"What do you mean?" Brad huffed. "Reasons don't give people these sort of things to live with! Their lives are so much easier, because they've based it off of simple and easy reasons. They don't have oddball canines fall from the sky to change them, they have other things. These THINGS are easier to understand. That's the beauty that separates reality from fantasy, and now my life is a part of one." It was sort of a question, but came out as a statement.

"Understand this! I've been sent here. Something's up, and if you and I both don't know what it is, our lives may as well be messed up. Probably forever!"

"Something will happen?" Brad rolled his eyes. "Like something hasn't already?"

"What do those wise guys say, Bradly Cot? Those men you look up to like role-models. They say things like 'Whether you can, or you can't, you are right.' or 'Everything happens for a reason.'? Can't you see that this whole situation has laid out the way it is. Do you think that's an accident! That's no accident, Brad! I'm here to discover something. That must be it!"

"Oh, so we choose now, in this police department, with the excuse that I'm int he bathroom to talk about it. If this is really a case that can't be solved, than why you forcing yourself to believe that someone up there has something planned for me?"

"What?" Bolt was lost at Brad's statement. " 'someone up there'?"

Brad was taken aback. "You know what I mean." He wanted to drop the subject.

Bolt stood up and paced the ground, turning completely from Brad. "What if I don't?"

"I Can't talk about him, Bolt!" Brad seemed much too sensitive to even bring it on. This made Bolt curious, but agitated.

"Tell me." Bolt turned around, and was now more demanding.

"You aren't supposed to know. You're a dog."

"What kind of reason is that?" Bolt challenged. Brad didn't answer. "See this, Brad. Some people say things that they think are simple, like when you said I can't know about it. But, really they haven't any reasons. That brings us back to when you said that people's lives are easier because of easy-based reasons that they are dedicated to. If those reasons are so easy to live by, how come you've got no reason to tell me what I want to know?"

Brad was nailed at that part. He was told he was wise beyond his years multiple times. But, it seemed that Bolt was much wiser. And for a dog, Brad was wrong to underestimate him. He felt sort of ashamed, and awkward.

"Brad," Bolt stepped closer, attempting to sooth him from the last remark. "I've noticed many things said in this world without reason. I just don't want to see... to see you as one of those men. One who gives excuses, but no reasons. Terrible things have happened to them. Fro all we know, they've been miserable only at the beginning...and, it just gets worse from then on."

Brad hung his head. "Where did you hear all of this?"

"From-" He stopped himself, but realized he had just started to say it, and he'd better finish. Even though it was a something he'd prefer to not think about. "From Penny. She looks up to people like George washing-a-car or something, and that Einstein person who made up that formula with letters and little numbers. I never understood that But also, I see things with my own eyes. That's mainly how I know about most things." He shuffled his paw on the floor. "I wish they weren't so disturbing though."

Brad had to agree with that, but he had to admit he never thought about that much. "That's pretty cool." He smirked at this. "Wow. You're just the smartest dog that I've met... like, ever!"

Bolt smiled in a flattered manor. "Don't just assume."

Brad began throwing out remarks. "I'm not! You're house trained, you've got respect for about everyone around you. You don't try to get too close to someone to make them gag like other dogs. Bolt, you're...awesome! Amazing. I've never seen it before."

Bolt didn't know what to say. Mainly, he wasn't supposed to talk at all. He decided to change the subject quickly. "I think time's up." Than he smiled. "And...thank you."

Brad had to return the grin. "I'm really surprised that I never saw it." He stood up and quickly decided to drop the subject as well. "Yeah, we're leaving now." He walked out from the hall, but Bolt stayed put for a minute. Trying to put it together, it was really amazing. He never took the time to see himself as such a dog. It's been...so long..

He smiled, and knew that he was right. This is happening for a reason.

ONE MORE CHAPTER! Before part two! Not short chapters here. But, maybe just as enjoyable I hope. Thanks y'all for reviewing chapter 11. I've noticed some things said, like it was funny that Brad got drunk...honestly I never took it that way, but I did in this chapter. Sad day for him. Dunno when it's all gonna stop, but school time is in the next chapter...and I can almost gaurantee a disaster scene.