February 9, 1966

"Okay smart one, give it back!"

David laughed, Rahne's coat wrapped around his head. Kevin was seated on the couch, watching with a smile as his older brother ran away from his sister.

"Give it back or so help me I'll take it from you!" Rahne said.

"Gonna hafta take it!" David said, running for the back door.

He had nearly reached it when Moira stepped out from one of the side rooms. David shrank back and Moira put her hands on her hips.

"David," she said, "What are you doing?"

David bit his lip.

"Nothing," he said.

Seeing an opportunity Rahne walked up and snatched her coat from David's hands. He looked up, pouting.

"David was just getting my jacket for me," Rahne said, putting it on.

Moira nodded, but Rahne could tell that her mother wasn't fooled.

"Thank you David," Rahne said.

"You're welcome," David muttered.

He looked over at Kevin.

"Race you to the top of the stairs!" he said.

Kevin launched himself off the couch.

"No running up the stairs!" Moira called.

David stopped at the foot of the staircase, making a face.

"Okay," he said, "slowest one wins."

Rahne watched as her two brothers began walking up the stairs as slowly as possible. Moira shook her head.

"There's no holding them down," she said.

"Hey, at least they didn't manifest early," Rahne said.

Moira smiled.

"That could've had dire consequences," she said.

She glanced over at Rahne's outfit.

"Where are you going so late on a Saturday?" asked Moira.

Rahne finished zipping up her jacket.

"I'm going to the Institute to see Doug," Rahne said.

Moira raised her eyebrows. Rahne knew that her tears were still fresh in her mother's mind. She had explained what had happened; she'd had to. Of course, she'd begged her mother not to tell anyone about it. She didn't like keeping secrets from her father, but if she'd had her way she wouldn't have told anyone about it.

"Does he forget to eat at all if you're not there?" she asked.

Rahne felt relieved at her mother's tact.

"Maybe," Rahne said, shrugging, "He forgot about his birthday last month."

Moira winced.

"Sounds a little careless," she said.

"Only of himself," Rahne said.

She thought about the things he'd kept from her and sighed.

"Mostly anyway," she said.

Her mother cocked her head.

"The two of you haven't...?" she asked, trailing off suggestively.

Rahne nodded.

"We still need to talk about it," Rahne said, "But after what happened a few days ago…there're always these people hanging around and…"

She sighed again.

"I don't know," Rahne said, "I still want to talk to him about it, we need to. I've just got to find the right time."

Moira put her hands on Rahne's shoulders.

"Rahne," she said, "as you get older, things change. People change."

"He shouldn't change this much," Rahne said.

She knew she sounded sulky. Moira looked at Rahne, her expression unreadable.

"I know you care about Doug," she said, "and you don't want to lose him. But this is going to eat you up inside if you don't talk about it."

"I know, I know," Rahne said, "I don't want to stop being his friend, but..."

"Rahne," Moira said, her voice somewhat pained, "Are you sure that's what's going on here? You not wanting to lose his friendship?"

Rahne shifted. She had to answer honestly.

"I don't know," she said.

Moira sighed and kissed Rahne on the forehead.

"Well, just try to let him know how you felt about what he did," Moira said, "There's not much more you can do than that."

"Alright," Rahne said.

She headed to the door, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.

"Thanks Mom," she said.

Moira smiled, although the expression still looked pained.

"Glad to help," she said.


"Doug, are you done?" asked Hank.

Doug shook his head. He crumpled up another piece of paper. Hank sighed.

"Doug, it's good enough," he said.

"It's not speaking right," Doug snapped.

"You're just signing your name," Hank said.

Doug looked down at the form, his claws scratching the pen's shiny surface. They were just finishing up some of the paperwork from Hammer Bay General. However, every time he wrote his name the letters seemed too curly. Hank had signed his and had done with it, but Doug couldn't do it like that.

Every time he signed wrong he crumpled the paper up and threw it over his shoulder. He had been doing it that way for an hour. It was almost lunch time and he hadn't finished more than two forms. Doug knew that it was going too far, but he couldn't stop himself. He was glad that he wasn't going to be the one who was operating. You couldn't just crumple up a human being and start from scratch.

He finished signing his name. It looked wrong though. So many things looked wrong after his fight with Rahne. He'd made her upset; he'd have to have spoken wrong to do that. Everything about him was speaking wrong, and now his signature was as well. He moved forwards to crumple it up when Hank snatched the form off the table.

"No," Hank said.

Doug glared at him.

"Give it back!" Doug hissed.

"It's fine!" Hank said, "It's fine. Look; it's good."

He brandished the form. Doug reached for it but Hank took a step back.

"Give it back," Doug said.

"It's fine," Hank repeated.

"Hank, you know it doesn't help when you do this," Doug said, his voice low, "So give me the form."

"No," he said, "Doug, you've got to calm down."

"It's speaking wrong," Doug insisted.

His tone sounded pitiful to him. He could see from Hank's expression that he was worried. Doug withdrew and banged his head on the table.

"Okay, you can't do that either," Hank said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He pulled Doug back.

"My head hurts," Doug said.

"That's what happens when you bang it against a table," Hank said.

Doug sighed, feeling his body shudder.

"It's not just that," he said, "I keep getting the feeling that I'm spoken wrong."

"I got that," Hank said.

He pounded a fist on the table.

"Not speaking wrong," Doug said, "Spoken wrong. Something's wrong with me, like an itch just under my skin and I can't get at it."

Hank gave him a long look. Doug noticed that he still kept the form out of his reach.

"Maybe it's time you tell someone what's going on," he said.

"And have them laugh at me?" snapped Doug.

"No one will laugh at you," Hank said, "You can tell Heather or Rahne-"

"No!" Doug said, "I can't tell Heather and I can't tell Rahne!"

"Why the hell not?"

His blood froze. He could tell that Hank had turned to look, but Doug couldn't bear to look up. The sparks that travelled under his skin burned in shame and apprehension.

"Why can't you tell me?" Rahne demanded.

"Rahne," Hank said, his voice nervous, "I think-"

"No one asked you!" Rahne said.

Hank shrank back. He knew that his friend was terrified; he'd never seen Rahne angry before. Doug swallowed and looked up. Rahne looked furious, her eyes amber and her hands shaking. He should have known that she'd drop by to make sure he ate. It didn't matter that it was a Saturday. She always looked out for him, no matter how angry she got.

"Well Doug?" she asked.

Doug looked over at Hank. His eyes were big and he was clutching the side of the table. Doug nodded to him and he scurried out of the room. He didn't want an audience for this.

"I'm waiting," Rahne said.

He looked down at the table.

"Oh no," Rahne said, "You look at my eyes. Now!"

Before he knew what he was doing Doug had obeyed. Rahne's eyes were still amber, which was never a good sign.

"Why can't you tell me?" she asked.

He swallowed.

"I'm your friend, aren't I?" Rahne asked, sounding miserable, "I'm your friend, and friends help each other when they're having problems, don't they?"

Doug could see her expression becoming sad, her words frantic.

"They tell each other when they're in trouble," she said, "They let them know!"

"But I didn't want anyone to know about it!" Doug said.

She snorted.

"You let Hank know," she said.

"By accident," Doug said, "We work together. He's going to notice when I rip up the wiring system or rewrite my notes. He's going to notice when I smash things!"

Rahne's eyes widened. Doug knew she hadn't known that it was that bad. His words were choked as he ran a hand through his hair.

"There's something wrong with me Rahne," he said, "It's gotten worse since I failed to get support for Carly's project the first time around. I don't speak right, and I'm wrong! And do you know what's going to happen when people find out?"

He laughed, although he knew it made him sound almost insane.

"They're going to say it's because of the MRD, and they're probably right," he said, "So I'll go back to the hospital, and I'll be poor Doug to everyone again. Don't you understand? I've finally built something, finally made something of myself, and I'm going to go back to being some helpless victim! It's back to those looks like I'll die any second, that I'll just crumble. I don't want that Rahne, I don't want it!"

Doug buried his face in his hands. There was a slight pause before he felt Rahne's hand on the back of his head.

"You were never poor Doug to me," Rahne said.

Tears that he had been holding back for months poured out of his eyes. He took a shuddering breath and Rahne hugged him, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"You'll get through this," Rahne said, her voice soft, "because you're strong. And I'll be there with you, okay?"

He continued crying for a few more minutes, the tears searing his blackened skin. Rahne's arms were still wrapped around his shoulders, giving him comfort. She had always been the one who spoke right in his life, always the one who had given him some solid ground to stand on.

When he finally stopped crying Rahne took a napkin out of her pocket and wiped away the last traces of tears. She gave him a half smile, putting her hand back on his shoulder.

"Let's get out of here," Rahne said.

He looked at the forms.

"But-" he began.

"I'm kidnapping you," Rahne said cheerfully, "And we're getting out of here. Going someplace interesting for lunch. Besides, I'm getting sick of making you sandwiches."

Doug managed to smile, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He knew that he had probably never looked more pathetic than he did at the moment. He probably looked even worse than he had when he was in the hospital. However, the tender look on her face was enough to give him an ounce of courage.

"You're the best person I've met Rahne," he said, "I mean that."

She blushed and straightened her shirt.

"It's just lunch," she said, her tone trying desperately sounding casual.

Doug swallowed. He didn't know where his bravery was coming from, but there was nothing left to lose now.

"Can it be more though?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. For a moment he thought that he had ruined everything, but her expression softened.

"Sure thing," she said.