(Anakin's Suffering – Samuel Kim)

A long shadow cast over his drooping face.

A shovel continued to dig up more dirt to bury his latest failure.

A tear shed down between his nostrils, and he wiped it, almost violently.

It was wrong to be seen as so weak.

But the haunting silence still rang out in his head as he sat outside the medical camp, awaiting the fate of the man who he had failed to reign in.

The dirt of the misty camp and the cold winds that blew from the north sent a chill down his spine, and he could see that farmer sacrifice himself for a cause. Sacrifice an entire town for it. What could possibly have made him act this way? What pain had he gone through?

…What were the toads, his people, doing to incite such actions?

But his questions only led to more silence, which only increased his flashes of the horrors he had witnessed; soldiers screaming faces, arms rising in writhing pain, ground practically disappearing. And a blinding light that looked into his soul…

And spared him for no reason.

"I should have been punished too.", thought Lieutenant Grime as another grave was buried, and Bog's breathing slowed down. As he sat there, the mist slowly turning into rain, Grime stared at his hands, their lines looking like a mirror to his soul. He could barely stare back.

The light sound of footsteps could be heard, pitter pattering in the rain, and Grime could have sworn he heard his mother's voice call out in the distance.

It was only a faint sound; no more than a shadow of a whisper. But Grime could hear it, clear as day, as it soothed him verbally.

"You regret that which you have not done… Go do what can still be done…"

As the footsteps got closer and Grime's heart beat faster, Bog could be heard muttering an answer to an inquiring doctor. "Wrecker… I saw him… He was blown up north."

"Up north…", Grime stated with alarm. Up north…

Grime stood up, fear now coating his eyes. He had already let the whole toad army minus 2 die. He HAD to find Wrecker, before it was too late!

But before he could move a muscle in action, a shadow cast over him once more…

"Son…"

Grime gulped and turned around, looking up to his father. The Captain seemed to be in a surprisingly solemn and peaceful mood, despite the decimation of his own forces. He held himself high, towering in a way over Grime, despite not the most substantial size difference.

Grime could now feel the rain making his shoulders heavy; an intense instinct to bow was suppressed, but he still looked down with shame. His chest hurt now, a fire of anger and mourning stoking brightly: He had lost all control and he had allowed all this to happen.

His father would be furious! He…

He should be furious.

"I deserve no less than your mightiest rage, father. I have let my people, my country, and my family down. I am a shame to the bloodline and to the line. I… I have been a bad son."

Grime knelt down. "Do what you must."

Grime hoped he wouldn't cry this time.

But surprisingly, Muck walked past him, and Grime turned around, surprised. "Father… Have I not wronged you?"

"Wronged me? Nonsense!", Muck turned, half humoursly half sharply, and he lifted that day's newspaper, the print now up to Grime's face, the toad taking the paper and reading it in lightspeed.

"Marsh Pond eviscerated; Threat… No more?", Grime read, not sure he was understanding the words.

"The war is over before it has started. Isn't that what you wanted, son? Now there is peace. And more importantly, no one to disrupt it."

Muck turned around again and walked out, Grime following him, the rain strengthening.

The two stopped near the graves, the burial field now littered with names Grime knew. Names Grime cared for. Names Grime had erased from time.

And yet Muck smiled. "What you see here is not a tragedy, but a success story! These brave toads died in the line of fire; they knew of the danger that would come! And now the line is safe!"

Grime shook his head in disbelief. "It was not meant to be this way. How can we replace dozens, almost a hundred men?"

Suddenly, a carriage drove by, its wheels digging up mud and grass as it parked, the door opening to reveal a young toad, with wide eyes and a wider smile.

One who looked like Grime once did.

This young toad poked his dagger around in the air, as he was followed by countless other toads brandishing the same weapon, before being directed by an ancient looking instructor to follow him.

"You were their age when you started. Remember?", Muck reminisced, his hand on Grime's shoulder, sending another jolt of guilt. "You took a while… But you got the handle of things."

Grime remembered that all too well. "The sun has only gone down once."

"And it rose. Like we must."

Grime couldn't silence his doubts. "An entire town died, father."

"Sins… Must be punished. Now there is nothing but silence. They got what they deserved."

Grime found himself sick from such a concept, his stomach jumping somersaults. "Father, surely that is…"

"Reality, son. It is time you woke up to it.", Muck commented, and thus the moral debate was over.

Grime felt horrible; was this truly justice? His father said so… But something felt off. It… It couldn't be right. But what could he say? His father was as immovable as a mountain.

And Grime wasn't strong enough to move mountains.

Grime wasn't strong enough to save his men. Or to save those frogs.

But Grime still had to save a friend.

Grime still felt a need to do just one. Good. Thing.

Grime turned to his father, conflict lacing his words. "Father, listen… One of our rank survived."

"And he is healing in bed right now, is he not, son? What a silly thing to point out.", he reprimanded, but Grime pressed on, despite the momentary guilt.

He was always being silly, wasn't he? His dreams of peace were ridiculous…

No. No, there was still hope.

And more importantly: Someone who needed him.

"Father, Wrecker shot up a flare when I was returning home. I know this because Bog muttered about Wrecker surviving the disaster."

Grime's eyes flashed with determination. To save Wrecker would mean to save one life… It was the least he owed.

But Muck didn't believe him.

"Bog is delirious. And even if he wasn't, it is pointless. What is one man to an army?"

Muck began to turn away, when Grime stepped in front of him, the shadow still hovering over Grime.

"The road back to the tower from the north is thwart with peril! I couldn't call myself a toad if I didn't ensure his voyage was safe.", Grime explained, before remembering his place and shrinking. "…It is the right thing to do."

"Back to your duties, son. This is no matter of your concern."

Grime felt himself torn; what should he do? The need to save Wrecker was too great, however.

"Father, that dreaded box nearly killed him! I must retrieve him! I must!"

And then Muck's eyes lit up, despite the grey skies around them.

His whole self seemed to change; as if he had heard an earth shattering statement.

"…Box?", he asked, disbelief etched across his face.

"Yes, a box. Carved, like a music box. It had 3 gems encased in it: A sapphire, an emerald and…

"An Amythest…", Muck interrupted, not allowing Grime to finish. The captain turned around suddenly to the grave diggers. "Hire more of you lot and go over to what is left of Marsh Pond! Dig up every single hole!"

Grime was puzzled, and he inquired his father of the nature of this request. "Father, why are you…"

"Son, go and find Wrecker now! He will have information!"

The hunger, the drive in Muck's eyes sent Grime back to a time…

A time he'd rather forget.

Following orders made more sense…

But his heart made his fists clench and his eyes shut.

"…No…"

Muck took a deep breath, seemingly wondering something.

Grime pressed on, despite his fear. "I… I will save my friend because it is the right thing to do. No more… No less…"

Muck digested this, and, calculating his next move, placed an arm on his son's shoulder, the digging nails hurting Grime, who fought hard not to yelp lest he be hurt.

"You may go."

He stared into Grime's eyes and soul, and Grime felt like he was letting him down again. "But don't forget… It's a dangerous world out there."

His voice took on a warning tone. "Your mother learned that the hard way."

It took a lot of effort for Grime's "I know" not to be surrounded by tears.

"…I would hope… You will learn that the easy way."

He finished his lesson. "I hope you will listen to the voice that knows what's best for you when you are challenged."

Grime breathed deeply, thinking only of his friend being killed because of him…

And he looked up, shadow still covering his face completely.

Rain and tears mixed on his face.

"…I will…"

(The Mandalorian Main Theme – Ludwiig Gorranson)

The Wrecker

Chapter 2: The Shadow

(Kuldaha Theme – Jeremy Soule)

"It's too dang hot!", The Wrecker complained, as he dragged his aching body across the grassy plains of North-Eastern Amphibia, the sun cooking his skin like a fried egg.

Bad enough that he had a cos…

"5 minutes ago, you said it was too dang cold!", Annie Lilypad's voice rang from above, as she zoomed from one branch to the next, an intoxicated grin on her face as she saw a pack of Heliconious Butterflies all turn green and flutter into the clouds. Annie got a tiny shiver, still feeling a perpetual sort of warmth every time she looked at one. It was strange.

But not as strange as Wrecker's mood swings.

"Well, 5 minutes ago it WAS too dang cold! And besides, why you arguin'? You must be a mucus farm up there!", Wrecker shot back, throat parched. He had no supplies in his journey, minding a now empty and useless flare gun he had left behind. The miniscule drinks he had had of river water were not doing their job, he would have to say.

And neither was his back, which was hurting. Or his eyes. Or his head. Or his legs.

Wrecker felt like he could sleep a million years.

…But he couldn't get that wonderful rest yet. Not yet; Not until he was done with his job. He had a duty…

Too bad it was driving him crazy.

As yet another branch crashed on his head, Wrecker shook his fist with irritation. "I saved your life, so you tryna get me killed?!"

Annie giggled and shook her head as she hung down from a vine, grinning at her guard, who frowned in frustration. "No, Mr. Wrecker! I'm just trying to have some fun!"

"Fun? What's fun in bouncing around aimlessly?", Wrecker asked, genuinely confused, a hint of irony in his tone which he didn't understand. It felt like he was saying something uncharacteristic, but he wasn't sure why.

Shrugging, he kept walking on, swatting a mosquito, as Annie climbed back up onto a tree and sat down for a moment. The sun was shining brightly, and once more the clouds gave her this odd, fuzzy feeling. It was like a big, comfy blanket was covering her, and she quite enjoyed it, closing her eyes. "Well, it's a chance to look at the sky and not wait for the sun to go down."

Wrecker shook his head, failing to understand the logic. "It's a chance to get hurt! I have one job; at least let me get THIS one right!"

Annie sighed and swung on a green and sickly vine next to Wrecker, who used his sword to cut down some tall grass in his path. "Mr. Wrecker, I don't want to be rude, I'm really grateful, but I spent 20 years working my butt off in a never ending cycle! I want to enjoy my new earned freedom!"

"I spent 60 years shaming my family, letting down my mentors and betraying my species.", Wrecker countered, suddenly gashing a giant spider that opened its mouth to consume Annie, who recoiled in disgust/terror.

He half smirked half frowned. "Try and top that. It's my one skill, ya know."

Annie sighed, but there was a laugh behind it. Still, she was confused, and she articulated it by landing next to him and skipping over the pebbles and thorns that covered the jungle brush, while Wrecker cut down interfering branches with his sword. "Mr. Wrecker…"

"Wrecker will do fine.", Wrecker stated, getting annoyed again.

"I don't know, it kind of sounds unnatural, ya know?", Annie retorted, and she scratched her chin before snapping her fingers. "I know! T.W!"

The Wrecker stopped in his tracks, buggy eyed and startled. "…What in tarnation does that even mean?"

Annie just smiled simply as she explained with her fingers connecting. "T.W. The Wrecker! Ta da! Instant nickname!"

The Wrecker just stood there and stared. "…Must be painful making so little sense."

He then moved on, cutting down more leaves, Annie drooping her shoulders a bit now. It was ONLY a suggestion! What had she done?

Getting a little moody, she turned to him, annoyed too. "Mr. Wre… Wrecker, what did I do to you?"

"What do you mean?", Wrecker asked, as he lifted a spiky branch to let her cross.

Annie, refusing this gesture, climbed another tree, Wrecker groaning with frustration at that. "Well, you were real nice and apologetic when I was nearly dead, and now that it's been a day, you're all cranky! I mean, you cried next to me!"

"It was one tear… That doesn't count…", Wrecker muttered, crossing his arms.

Annie sighed. "Anyway, why are you such a… A… A grouch? I thought you were all depressed?"

Wrecker stopped short and waited for her to turn, which she did. He eyed her with disbelief. "It's called "having more than one emotion." I was sure I would die protecting you, and after 6 decades of anything but functionality, I sort of hoped it would be the one good thing I would do. But the job's not over yet, since I can hardly just leave ya to die in the middle of nowhere, now can I?"

Annie had to agree: That made sense.

"But why not just get along with me? I might be a bit much to handle, but I'm sure we could be great friends! I mean, I'm sort of in the market for one, since I lost everyone I know.", Annie offered, and Wrecker noted she was oddly chipper about all this.

"Kid, I am not for sale in that department. Or any, really. I'm gonna save you…", he said, cutting down another branch.

"Go and find a hole to die in to escape this wretched world…", he continued, avoiding a bulbous amount of poison ivy.

"And finally rest, even if I probably end up down there. And you know? I probably deserve it.", he said, very accepting of his fate, as he stopped to rest for a moment.

Annie laid back on an unsteady branch, and took a moment before saying… "I don't think you're so bad. And I don't think the world is THAT cruel."

Wrecker sighed, deciding to say what he was sure would be best for the girl. "The world is an awful place, kid. And I'm the worst part of it. Just be glad you'll soon be rid of me."

Suddenly, Annie's branch snapped and she soared down to the ground, surely about to go splat and fail to correct him…

But Wrecker grabbed her instinctually, immediately calming her down.

He looked at her, alarmed for a moment, looking for any wounds…

Before shaking his head and setting her down.

Annie smiled smugly, and Wrecker sighed with disgust. "Kids used to listen to their elders…", he muttered, as they began to reach a noisy area.

Green grass and beige dirt pathways scattered across the open plain. The sound of dealing, bargaining, selling and bartering reached Wrecker's ears in a moment. It was an all too familiar sensory overload: Wrecker could practically taste the expensive jellies that would be soon spread on a freshly baked loaf, the bass and salmon slices that only smelled alluring to those who worked at the fishmongers all day, and the freshly picked carrots, onions, potatoes and yams that would soon be swimming in bubbling steamy stew. His stomach grumbled, and his nose was pleasured, but his eyes narrowed with memory and with regret and he let out a displeasured grunt.

"No… No…", he muttered, as a group of chatty old women passed by with their cartons of eggs and milk, and their baskets full of mosquito cream.

"What's wrong… WOAH!", Annie exclaimed as she saw where they were. She, unlike Wrecker, was excited and enthusiastic on their new location, and she began to dance from one foot to the next as she imagined all the food to fill her empty belly and all the sights to see in…

"The farmer's market…", Wrecker moaned with disappointment.

"THE FARMER'S MARKET! YES! Momma needs her tum tum taken care of!", Annie said, and she licked her lips as she caught whiff of some termite soup.

Annie raced off to get a bowl, but Wrecker was too busy being lost in his memories, a small sad frown painting his face, his fist clenching in pain as he punished himself for sins from long ago as the shadow of an old oak tree separated him from the sunny and jovial atmosphere of the market…

(At The Summertide Feast – Adrian Vin Ziegler)

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?", A very bouncy and very excited Wrecker shouted in anticipation as he walked (but mostly bounced) on the wooden fences of the street he was exiting, his eyes directed only at his Father, who was riding the family snail with the carriage full of fresh vegetables.

Wrecker's father turned to him with a snap, half joking half serious. "Get down from there, boy! You'll hurt yourself!"

Eager to please, Wrecker made sure to get off, but he slipped and fell down, crashing onto the road with a thud, hurting his right leg, that was always acting up.

"Owch!", Wrecker called out, rubbing his aching leg, and his father shook his head in frustration. "This is what happens when ya don't listen to yer dad! You always think you know better, don't cha, son?"

Wrecker really had listened, but his father was right: He was a stubborn boy at times. It was probably his fear of being wrong; he had been so many times in the past. Always the wrong choice…

He had to stop letting the family down. He had to do more.

That, and he didn't want to argue with the greatest man who ever lived!

Hopping into the cart, where his mother was reading the newspaper, something about Higher Taxes from Captain Mire, Wrecker sat down next to his father, looking up at the big frog, which was hard since the sun was awfully bright. The shadow of his dad made it a little hard to see, but he felt as if there were a faint smile as the old man put his arm round him. "Ya gotta listen, boy. We don't want last week's fiasco, now do we? That was something!", he said, laughing, trying to soften the sadness Wrecker still had from that day.

Wrecker appreciated the joke, but found it hard to laugh as he remembered that it wasn't so funny to his dad when it HAD happened last week.

"I didn't realize the corn plants would blow away if took them out myself. I was just trying to help.", Wrecker explained, twiddling his thumbs and feeling sorry.

Wrecker's father wagged his finger. "Ah ah ah! Remember, son: It don't matter if you didn't mean to: What matters is if ya learned from it!"

Wrecker had learned from it, he thought. He had managed to cut the other vegetables this morning just fine. But his father hadn't said anything, except of course for when he dropped the glass of water he asked for and when he clattered into him by accident and when he forgot what he was supposed to bring him.

Those were all just innocent mistakes, but Wrecker reasoned it must be because his dad didn't want him to rest on any laurels! When he'd stop making stupid mistakes and feeling sorry for himself, THEN he'd get that proud smile!

Wrecker began to imagine what THAT would be like, and he smiled lazily as the clouds passed by and the sun shone brightly as the road neared a finish. Wrecker loved his village, but he loved his parents more, and making his dad proud would be such an achievement, he would tell ALL the people in his town! Like the baker and the cook and the mayor and the storekeepers and the town weirdo and…

"Focus son, we're here!", his dad shouted, and Wrecker snapped back awake, excited to help. It wasn't just a matter of wanting to make his dad proud, no no no! It was also a desire to help his family the best he could, not to mention give the community good food!

"Comin', pop!", Wrecker called, and he bounced on the snail and off into the stand area, picking up a box of carrots with his tongue and laying it on his hands, barely holding them up.

"Ah, what a good day to help the family, eh son?", Wrecker's dad asked with a tired smile, as he carried 3 boxes, one of onions, one of potatoes and one of yams.

Despite how heavy the box was, Wrecker was happy to share his excitement over the market. "I can't WAIT to make all our friends happy with this delicious food! What do you think they'll like more, dad: The gangly gorns or the eggplants?"

"Not now, son.", His father said, still carrying the boxes.

Wrecker was especially proud of a certain box: It held a whole head of lettuce. Sure, not perhaps the most impressive vegetable, but Wrecker had never grown something before! It was like his baby, and he wanted to make sure it was safe!

"Pop, how's my head of lettuce? Is it still fresh?", he asked hopefully, but instead his father turned and grunted.

"I told you not now, son! Please stop talking all the time.", his father asked.

Wrecker hadn't thought he had talked that much, and his father HAD asked him what he thought, but perhaps it just wasn't the time. He could always ask later.

It didn't take long for the all the boxes to be placed in the Family Stand, and moments later, Wrecker, his Father, and his Mother stood by and waited for customers to purchase their fresh produce.

Wrecker gazed around the market square with awe stricken eyes; the trees just seemed taller, the grass just seemed greener, the clouds just seemed fluffier. There was a joy and wonder in the air, and everyone seemed so friendly! Children hopped and played hide and seek among the bushes, old frogs with bushy beards and no hair shared humorous anecdotes and offered Wrecker a bowl of sweets from their stand (which Wrecker took a handful of with glee) and an acting troupe was performing scenes from "The Shallow Lake", a favorite production of the town, eliciting cries of "Bravo!" and "Hurrah!" and "Encore!" from the small audience that watched.

Wrecker bit his bottom lip in hesitation; he REALLY wanted to help his family, but only one frog had come today, Mrs. Sundew, and she was too busy gossiping with his mother like always, about how Mr. Flour was bragging about his weirdo son again, or how "Stumpy's" was "nice" for "proletariat folk" but not a "proper" eating establishment like her café, or how One-Legged-Waldo was a "bad influence" on the children. It was sort of boring, and while he STILL wanted to pull his weight for once, he did ALSO want to have some fun. He didn't have any friends, but perhaps for a few minutes he could pretend those kids liked him!

Still, his voice couldn't help but stammer as he asked his father. "D…Dad, would it be all… All right if I went off and played with the other k-kids?", Wrecker's feet shuffled on the ground, trying his best not to look lazy. "I really want to help, but no one's coming yet, so…"

Wrecker's father, however, shook his head. "Already running away, son?"

Wrecker sighed, hating to hear that line. He DID have a tendency to forget his chores, or to stay in his room for hours and imagine he was on grand adventures, sailing ships and saving people from malicious monsters.

"I'm being selfish. I HAVE to do better!", Wrecker thought, and he stood his ground, his toes accidentally rising up and keeping him off the ground.

"Twinkle toes…", his father reminded, and after ignoring the pang of pain, Wrecker got down.

"Sorry.", Wrecker whispered, feeling ashamed.

"Don't apologize all the time!", his father admonished, as he drank his fifth cup of coffee and read the newspaper his mother had had before.

Wrecker looked even further down at the floor and said "Sorry" again, before realizing he wasn't supposed to apologize.

"Sorry.", he repeated a third time, before getting frustrated and grunting.

"It's not that much to ask you to work, is it?", his father asked, a seemingly disappointed tone in his words.

Wrecker wondered if he paced enough, he could get out of the maze he was in. What was the next right thing to do? What was he doing that made him crash into every dead end?

"Only an idiot apologizes three times. Moron.", he mumbled at himself, sitting down and sighing as the day went on.

Hours passed, and still no one came to buy a single veggie. His Mother had long since fallen asleep, snoring loudly, and his Father was glaring at the people before him with that same resigned and tired look, and Wrecker was still just sitting there, knees bouncing.

He couldn't help but bounce them; his mind gears seemed to need inspiration, so his knees provided them. As he did this, Wrecker continued to look around, seeing everyone smile but him and his family.

Wrecker looked long and hard at the faces, bright wide curves that made people look nicer, lighter. Their eyes sparkled and their feet seemed to dance whether than walk. It seemed easy enough.

Wrecker forced on a smile with his fingers, until it was big and bright. He then held his breath to keep it up. "It shouldn't be hard…", thought Wrecker, keeping the act. "I have lots to smile about! I have a family, and people who care about me, and I am alive on this beautiful day!" It seemed to stick for a bit, but the more he did it…

The more it felt painful. The more it felt… Fake.

It was like whatever reason he had to smile disappeared the moment he smiled.

It was like smiling felt like something he had to earn.

And knowing himself, Wrecker knew he hadn't earned it yet.

After all, any pollywog that can't even be born right surely hadn't yet earned the right to live.

Yes, that HAD to be the reason the smile felt fake! He still hadn't earned it! That seemed fair enough.

So instead of smiling, Wrecker sighed and frowned as the day passed and his reasons to be happy floated away.

And for a while, Wrecker wondered, as he looked up at his father, if he could ever be anything like him, anything functional and proper and right, if he could ever be a person…

When a frequent visitor of the stand walked by.

(The Measure of a Hero – Alan Silvestri)

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite stand in the market and my favorite little farmer!", a warm, very maternal voice (at least, Wrecker thought that what that sounded like) rang through, like a chime that signaled the arrival of a favorite relative.

"Mrs. Croaker!", Wrecker greeted, a genuine smile stretched across his face as he hopped up to shake her hand, but his father was blocking him with his back.

"Afternoon, Sadie. The usual?", he asked, a friendly air to his tone. Wrecker's Mother delivered a casual wave as she returned to sleeping.

Sadie Croaker, 40 year old farmer with the body of a housewife but the confidence and strength of a mama bear, let out that raspy laugh that always made Wrecker get the giggles and laid her basket on the stand. "My famous batch of Croaker Stew can hardly fill my belly without one of your luscious gangly gorns, now can it?"

"No, it can't!", Father agreed, and the two adults shared a knowing chuckle.

Wrecker, meanwhile, had given up on the handshake, knowing that if he were to interrupt he would probably break something and ruin the mood, which had finally brightened, even for him. "Focus! Don't ruin everyone's day!", he shouted at himself inwardly.

Even with a good mood, he couldn't but lose it out of fear of losing it.

But the worried and scared frown on his face melted when Mrs. Croaker stared from the side and smiled that warm smile he wished he could give others. "And how are you today, Mr. Wrecker?"

Wrecker brightened up for just a moment, his heart beating once more, and he stuck his hand out and shook her outstretched one with energy and vibrance. "Can't complain, Sadie! Nothin' like a family work day out at the market!"

A twinkle was in Croaker's eyes as she softly nodded, talking to him in an equal level, her eyes right at the middle with his. "Oh, now! Even I get tired of waking up every Saturday and milking my cows! And they're the only ones who gossip well round these here parts! Ha!", she laughed, momentarily annoying Wrecker's mother, who harrumphed.

Wrecker couldn't help but chuckle as well, before adding truthfully "Tired or not, Family and Tradition come first! Right, pop?"

"When even you get it, it must be true!", his father congratulated, as he returned to packing another gangly gorn into Croaker's basket, who seemed to eye him funny before returning to look at Wrecker.

"Well, now… What a loyal and hardworking young boy! You make even this old crone's heart proud!", she complimented, and Wrecker blushed, unused to such flattery. He shuffled at his feet.

"Gosh, Mrs. Croaker, it's nothin'!"

Croaker then lifted him in the air, making him laugh. "It is NOT nothin', boy! Your hard work is clear as the eye can see! In fact…", she added, looking around with interest. "I do remember a handsome young man telling me news about some incredible achievement he'd made!"

Wrecker's eyes lit up like the candles he used to read, and he jumped to the side to get his little lettuce out to show Mrs. Croaker.

"Now son, don't keep her waiting! Sadie has to make a living too!", his father admonished, but Croaker was quick to correct him.

"I've been making a living so I can get to go livin' for 20 years, buster! I can wait 2 minutes!"

Smiling once more, she looked at the lettuce and looked truly impressed. "You did this all by yourself?"

Wrecker couldn't stop blushing. He didn't know that he'd done SUCH a good job. "Oh, I mean, he's not perfect!"

He pointed at a small bruise on the side. "I kicked him here once by mistake when Collin sprouted, cause I wasn't darn lookin' where I was goin'!"

He then lifted it to show some charred parts. "And it burned here when I read it a bedtime story and the candle fell!"

Finally, there were three torn leaves. Wrecker got a little shy. "…This baby snail was hungry. I may have overfed it."

"Well, I may have fallen in love! This here darn lettuce head… Sorry, I mean Collin, dear… Is the nicest lettuce head I ever did see!", Croaker said, and she meant every word. She was truly proud of Wrecker's work and she beamed, which Wrecker's dad seemed oddly against.

Wrecker, for the first time today, had the silliest grin which didn't wipe off immediately, and Croaker suddenly knew what to do.

With the speed of light, Croaker took a few coins and flipped them to Wrecker. "You know what, sonny? I think it's time I added a little pizazz to my Croaker stew!"

Wrecker could have fainted; Mrs. Croaker NEVER changed her stew! It was the perfect meal in all of Wartwood (not that Wrecker would ever admit that to his father) and she had never changed a single part of it!

Until today.

Croaker winked at him and began to leave with the gangly gorns and the lettuce, and for a moment, Wrecker felt like he was king of the world! He had helped a friend, contributed to the community, and he had assisted the family with HIS hard work!

He had actually given back something to his family! He had actually made his existence matter for a moment!

But Wrecker's smile faded as his heart ached. The coins felt heavy in his hand, and Wrecker felt… Felt like it was wrong.

At first, he was confused: Why was he not happy NOW? All he wanted was present in his hand! He could finally look at himself and go "There! You did a good job! You can be proud of yourself!"

….But his happiness came at a cost.

It took 3 hops, a skip, and a gigantic leap over a big spike to reach the surprisingly fast Mrs. Croaker, who turned around with a startled smile.

"Why, hello there, Wrecker! What brings you back to me? Not that I mind the pleasant company!"

Wrecker handed the coins back with a determined stare, despite his feeling of accomplishment slipping away.

Croaker stared down at the hand for a while, confused.

Wrecker took a moment, not knowing what to say, before choosing…

"Your smile is payment enough."

The wind blew gently and Wrecker continued to stand there, refusing to budge, as Mrs. Croaker paused, quite surprised by this turn of events.

For a moment, it seemed like time had stopped.

Finally, her bangs nearly hiding her eyes, but not the loving glean in them, Mrs. Croaker slowly took the money, and turning around, winked at the boy and ruffled his hair.

Wrecker didn't understand why, but tears formed in his eyes, and he wiped them quickly before anyone would notice. He didn't want to act like a baby.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt so… Warm, and real, in Mrs. Croaker's touch. He didn't even know people could ruffle your hair! In fact, he wasn't sure he was supposed to touch anyone else's body, but if that's what it made him feel, he sure as hell wanted to make someone else feel that!

Wrecker came back to the stand with the genuine smile he was searching for the whole day…

But it was soon gone, thanks to the disappointed scowl on his father's face, and his mother's matching expression. "Did you leave your brain at home or something?"

"Wha… What did I do?", Wrecker asked, genuinely confused, and already scared of his father's rage.

"Always afraid for your own skin. Makes me wonder how you're so willing to get hurt.", his father commented, pointing at the departing Croaker.

Wrecker's eyes widened, and doubt laced his words. "I don't understand.", he replied, truly unsure.

His father shook his head in disgust. "Of course you don't understand."

"Sorry.", Wrecker instinctually uttered, earning a near growl from his father.

"Stop fucking apologizing! You're lucky your lettuce didn't cost much! You can't just give money away like that! And you can't show weakness!"

His father pointed at his other produce, the bang on the desk making Wrecker jump and tear up for a moment. "We need to survive in this world, boy! Anyone of these people will stab you in the back the moment they can! You take what little you can get and you NEVER give anything! Cause when you give back… You give them a chance to hurt you."

Wrecker didn't see any logic in this: Sure, some people would try and hurt him and his family, but ALL of them? That seemed hardly true.

But he didn't want to correct his father, who was already complaining to him about his jump. "And why are you jumping? You think I'm gonna hurt you? It's them that are going to hurt you!"

"I… I just thought that…"

"Don't lie, ya didn't think, that's the problem!"

Wrecker didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

Annoyed, his father began to unpack the stand, Wrecker helping when possible. The speech was also moving on. "You must remember this, son: Life is not some fairytale. You can't be honest to these crooks, they'll rip you apart!"

…But Mrs. Croaker hadn't. Mrs. Croaker had made him feel…

The carriage door slammed, and Wrecker was covered in darkness, shadows masking his sad face, as his Father finished the speech, looking at the road, while his mother slept. "The only people you can trust are your family. The people who love you no matter what."

Wrecker nodded, despite still not being sure, since his father always knew what he was talking about, and when he reached his hand over to his father's shoulder to make him feel better, the man moved away from it.

So Wrecker sat there in the carriage, feeling very much alone, confused as to why he still felt a glimmer of warm hope in a cold, cruel world and disappointed that he was letting down his family again by being himself…

And as Wrecker remembered all this and felt the hole in his heart widen with pangs of pain, he suddenly found a bowl of Beetle Soup shoved into his face, the simple smile on Annie's face as she did so reminding him of someone he once knew…

But that someone was foolish. And there was no place for foolishness.

Scowling, Wrecker took the bowl and scolded Annie, averting his eyes however. "What the heck are ya doin'?! We don't have any money!"

Annie was surprised by the sudden anger, and despite her age, backed off and looked a little ashamed. "I… I know, I just thought…"

"No, ya didn't think. That's the problem.", Wrecker shot back, still not looking at her, and, grabbing the two bowls violently, stomped back to the stand that was selling them, a slightly defiant but mostly silent Annie in tow. She couldn't see how his eyes already reflected regret at getting angry, but his brain was shouting at him to continue, that this was the way.

"The grass crunches in an almost scary way when Wrecker walks angrily", Annie noted in her thoughts, still a little scared: What had she done that was SO bad? Especially since…

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but as you can see this little one here forgot her brain back home or somethin', because we do not have any money!", Wrecker complained, feeling wrong for doing so, yet also somehow right.

Annie, meanwhile, looked like she was trying very hard not to say anything, instead distracting herself with that nice feeling inside her heart. She had always felt it, but something about it in the last two days felt even stronger. But what could it be? Was it some kind of protective layer her body was covering her with? Or something more…

Well, whatever it was, it was better than this.

The standkeeper seemed confused for a moment, before chuckling slightly, incurring more wrath from the trying to calm down but failing Wrecker. "WHAT'S SO FUNNY? What, you poison it or somethin'?"

Wrecker was this close to giving that man a sock straight to the moon for DARING to touch the girl, but thankfully the man explained before this celestial clobber could crop up.

"Oh, good sir, you've got it all wrong!", the man said, and Wrecker muttered "Nothin' new there", with a small hint of resigned sadness.

"That's what I was trying to tell you!", Annie added, feeling a bit braver now that someone was on her side, and she glared a bit at Wrecker, who didn't know what to say, cause even though he was angry, he didn't have the heart to look at her with his rage. She… What had she done to deserve such anger all of a sudden? It just…

Came out…

Like an instinct…

"Your daughter explained to me your situation, so I decided to give you the meals for free!"

Ignoring the statement that made both Wrecker and Annie VERY flustered, Wrecker suddenly felt very foolish, even though that was LITERALLY what he wanted to avoid! A cacophony of voices criticized him, some for getting angry at Annie, who had done nothing wrong, some criticizing him for even letting this clear backstabber lie to him to his face, and some for even thinking of taking such a responsibility. He couldn't take care of someone! He could barely exist without fucking up at each and every turn!

How could he get it all so wrong so badly?!

Hiding his face for fear of scolding, Wrecker took a bowl and quietly thanked the standkeeper. Then, he walked away, heavy steps and a heavier heart, as Annie ate her soup and walked, wanting to ask Wrecker what was wrong, but knowing he wouldn't answer.

She offered a comforting hand on his shoulder, and for a second, Wrecker wanted to accept it…

But he couldn't. So he moved faster.

(The Scavenger – John Williams)

Annie sighed as she ate her soup, and for a few minutes, no words were uttered, Wrecker only saying sorry in his mind, before feeling guilt for apologizing, and Annie just wondering if leaving Wrecker was the right or wrong thing to do.

The weather changed considerably, too: The warm sun of before was now slowly setting into a more afternoon sun, one which made the two frogs drip mucus and feel even heavier. The path turned rockier and harder, the pebbles almost hurting their poor feet, not that Wrecker made any sound to notify Annie of that, who was feeling the heat fry the sole of her foot.

Annie began to get tired and faint, and she nearly fell, but steadied herself, snapping awake. She had to keep up, and be strong, like her father!

As she looked up, she saw Wrecker turn back to not looking at her quickly. Odd.

For about an hour this passed, the heat and the path and the stones and the past impeding their progress and their mental state until finally, just as Annie was about to tempt fate and ask Wrecker if he could perhaps carry her a bit…

A crossroads showed up.

Annie wasn't concentrating, however, and very nearly walked into the sign, before Wrecker pulled her back in the nick of time. Annie looked dazed and confused, and Wrecker grunted with frustration.

"Focus, for frog's sake!", he shouted, before again flinching and cringing in pain. He didn't have to go so hard like that, it was merely an accident, and a first time one too.

Annie looked down with shame, and Wrecker felt like crap again, but there was no time for that now. They had to choose a path.

Annie, trying her hardest not to think about everything, decided to look at the trees, which were still so enticing. Their bark was shining in the midday sun, and an array of bugs and critters and butterflies surrounded it, making it look majestic. The cherry blossoms on top added a sort of je na si que that made Annie almost forget her troubles. How she wished she could sit under the tree and forget her problems! Just lay there and think of nothing and everything…

How she wished Wrecker could do the same. She could tell he was troubled, but the man refused to utter a single word. "He's probably got a good reason. I doubt he means to be mean.", she thought, as she kept staring at the tree.

As she looked, a shadow crept up on the tree, which was very peculiar, as it felt like it was staring back at her.

Annie, being a friendly girl, even with stranger shadows, smiled, and bowed respectfully and almost in subordinance to the shadow, who she figured was older and should be respected. The shadow, however, suddenly grew spikey, and ominous, scaring her.

Suddenly, Annie realized how silly it was to be scared of a shadow. "What am I, 4?", she complained, and she glared back, defiantly, putting on her bravest face. She had been messed around with enough, and she was not going to let some shadow bully her!

And lo and behold, the shadow cowered and ran off, like a scared dog.

"How strange…", Annie thought, and she turned to find Wrecker beckoning her to come.

"Sign says the right path is long, but safer than the shortcut. If we're fast, we'll make it out of the forest by sunrise."

Annie was happily surprised, even a little excited. "Ooh, so it's like we're camping? I've never camped before but it always sounded so fun! YA HEAR THAT, WOODS? YOU ARE NOW MY DOMAIN! HA HA HA HA!"

Wrecker failed to suppress a smile, relating to the girl. He too had always been excited at the prospect of camping, but had only really received it once, and thanks to his selfishness, it had been a disaster.

Still, perhaps he could make up for that by making this sort of trip fun for Annie. After all, he had been a jerk to her before: Maybe this was his chance to fix that.

"I'm going to get this right!", he swore, before getting a little haughty. "And I can't wait until she tastes my superior cooking!"

(Soft Drama – AshamaluevMusic)

The downtrodden path, decorated with ivy green vines that hung menacingly, stretched across a barren land, one where rivers run with regret and cicadas call with caution, where lament and low spirits join in a dance in the dumps.

Winds of change and warning lifted the leaves and the clouds continued to weigh on Grime's conscious, his legs tired, though he had not taken a single step.

The carriage wheels creaked slowly and surely as it rode down the hill and into the plains and forest ground of north of Marsh Pond.

Well, what was left of Marsh Pond.

Which was a mound of dirt that Grime had decided to carry with him to remember what he had done.

Sure, he hadn't opened the box, but he couldn't help but feel guilt; an entire city and army were gone thanks to him, and to add to all that, his friend, The Wrecker, was missing.

Holding the straps lightly, so as to not hurt the snail that was carrying him, Grime sighed with pain, his chest nearly burning up with intense guilt. Looking up again, a firefly aiding his sight with its light, his map informing him of his location, he could tell he was getting close to Pall Forest, the deadliest forest in Amphibia, and that's saying something!

Grime shivered, refusing to wear the silk blanket he had been given. "Poor Wrecker! Lost in this maze of horrors! He could be eaten by one of the savage beasts that lurk in every corner there! And if that doesn't do him in, the heavy mist that blurs your vision and fills your lungs with suffocating smog will! And if THAT doesn't, and if the old wives tales are to be believed, madness is…" He gulped, the guilt consuming him faster than the aforementioned beasts ever could. "…But a push away…"

And none of those evils compared to the sinister monster that haunted the woods, the dreadful spirit of the forest, the Phantom Pall: A figure of absolute darkness that, legend says, stared into your soul and made you confront your demons, your fears…

Your true self.

Grime shook his head to focus on the road and on the path but his heart still ached for his friend, knowing his inaction had led to his friend to the inferno. Despite the low hanging spikey vines, sharp branches, and poison Ivy, Grime did not use his sword to cut down a path. In fact, this felt like an ounce of the punishment he deserved.

It was almost comforting to feel pain, because at least he was feeling something. So he let the spikes and thorns and sharp corners scratch across his face, his bottom eye lids, cheeks and forehead getting more and more hurt. A tiny cut was on his bottom left eyelid, but it felt good to get stung whenever he tried to rest.

He hadn't earned his rest. He probably never would. After all, he was a failure in both ways.

"Now's not the time for self pity: Wrecker must be saved. You can beg for your punishment later.", Grime reprimanded himself harshly, not noticing he was biting his bottom lip and making it bleed.

The sun was still scorching the toad as the carriage began to near greener fields, the butterflies replacing the fireflies, bright wildflowers blooming and blossoming, the air almost seeming to be filled with bubbles and rainbows, and soon the soothing smell of swamp delicacies filled Grime with wonder; he had always found the smell of farmer's food to be enticing, perhaps because it's warm scent was one he was not used to. Toad food was more about its efficiency, and not without its charm, but Grime would be a liar if he hadn't always dreamed of whether jelly filled pies truly made you see angels and clouds.

The scent only got stronger as the carriage drew ever closer to the market. Grime had almost forgotten about Wrecker, so relieved to have his mind beckon onto greener pastures, even if for only a moment.

Wind chimes and banging pots collided harmoniously as he entered, and Grime was honestly considering stepping out and perhaps getting some of those legendary pies, when…

BANG!

A pot of Beetle Soup seeped onto the grass, but its owner didn't care, as he left his stand in fear.

Shaking and shivering, the man slowly approached the carriage, and Grime noticed how dirty and brown his clothes were. They were barely clothes, he noted; tattered, torn, held by a miniscule thread. They would surely fall apart if he were just to touch them.

The frog's thousand yard stare turned into panic when Grime stepped off his snail, curious as to what was wrong with the frog and hoping to perhaps help.

But the moment he set foot on the ground…

The frog threw himself on the floor, head so far down onto the ground, it could have burst through the dirt, hands almost touching Grime's feet. His whole body was subservient to him, and it made Grime's eyes widen with surprise. What was up with this man?

"I…", Grime began, before suddenly noticing the other people leave their stands, all in the same ugly and disgusting clothes: Grime could suddenly see how thin they all were, especially the children, who looked like the twigs his carriage has broken as it passed across the land that past day. Their eyes were sunken and swollen, their hands as frail as a branch in the wind, their breathing heavy and heaving.

Fear coated their expressions, hunger colored their eyes, and weakness was present in every bone in their bodies as they stepped closed to him.

The deathly silence, as they all stepped out, was incredibly loud, and Grime got increasingly uneasy: What were they so afraid of? Why were they all so fragile? And what was the meaning of the first frog's lying on the ground?

And then, in a terrifying symphony of subservience and spiritless subduing, every single frog, man, woman, and child, laid down like the first frog.

It was the sound of silent and scared sobbing that made Grime realize.

They were bowing to him.

Like he was some sort of…

"…I am one like you.", Grime reasoned, but no one listened.

Undaunted, he tried again, hating this act of… Of foolishness on their part. "We share the same generous mother: We are all children of the land of Amphibia, are we not?"

Still, not a sound to shatter the silence.

Grime was close to snapping: He refused to be compared to some higher creature! If anything, HE should be the one on the ground, begging for forgiveness, begging for death!

He decided to try again, but as he cleared his throat…

"Do not kill us, oh lord! We are but your meek servants! Please… Let us suffer!", the first frog cried, and Grime felt like he could cry, as he choked out "I… I am not your lord."

The first frog raised his head only slightly, delivering a terrifying truth: "We may bleed the same blood, but mine will not be missed if it is shed. I know my place."

"Shed... For what?", Grime asked, pained in his expression.

"…My skin, like me, is impure. I would change it if I could. But I cannot. So strike me down… I have nothing to give that you do not already do better."

The sobbing and bowing continued, and Grime still saw the look of shame in their faces as he looked with shame on the road he crossed minutes later, his sword still unsheathed.

…How had this all happened? And was it too late?

As the road grew autumnal and darker, Grime fought a sob as he wondered how could a demon be hailed as a god…

And whether perhaps his sword should be pointed a different way.

(Stealth Music – Sniper – Avery Alexander)

Meanwhile, in a thicket near the crossroads into Pall Forest…

"Snake eyes! Dinner's on you!", Smudge, a round toad with round cheeks, chuckled with delight as the dice that were limply thrown at best by his partner flashed the pair of ones he was hoping for. Leaves crunched under his weight as he rubbed his stomach with anticipation. "I hope the jelly pies really are as dreamy as they say! You got enough money?"

Pepper, Smudge's partner (and clear superior) scoffed and whacked him on the head, shushing him. "The market is free today, you idiot! And in case you swapped your miniscule brain with your bulbous stomach, we have a secret mission to attend to!"

As Pepper withdrew a very different pair of dice, Smudge sighed, feeling the pangs of hunger again. "Pepper…"

The usual glare that accompanied that first name usage appeared, and Smudge remembered his place.

"That is… Head Guard Pepper… Why are we doing this again?"

"Did you seriously forget? The fact that I am not surprised speaks volumes to your performance as a guard! I should have fed you to those sea monsters when I had the chance…", she muttered in anger, as she aimed her dice, awaiting her target.

"No, wait, I know WHAT we're doing!", he defended himself, hating to let her down. After being pushed down to avoid detection, Smudge looked down with shame, unsure of his mission. "I mean… Why are we… You know… Attacking Lieutenant Grime? Our prince?"

Pepper sighed and turned to Smudge with a glare. "Smudge, from the moment we met, there was something I always wanted to tell you…"

Smudge looked up with hope, smiling.

"…Shut up and let me focus."

Smudge frowned and nudged her, still inquiring. "But I don't understand! What did he do wrong? Didn't you see how they all got down on their feet for Lieutenant Grime?"

Seeing her target finally reach the crossroads, the sign having been switched so he would enter the dangerous area, Pepper frowned with determination, her dice prepared to blow Grime's carriage up. "That's the problem, Smudge…"

Narrowing her eyes with hate, a tattoo of The Calamity Box barely visible from her armor, Pepper continued to serve her one true master and his one true master race.

"…They've still got feet."

With an impressively precise roll, the dice tumbled down the thicket, the hilltop, and right below Grime's carriage as he began to turn left instead of right.

Pepper and Smudge ran off, but the explosion could still be heard as pieces of carriage debris nearly smashed Smudge to bits. The ground was scorched, the sign was broken beyond repair, the supplies for the trip were utterly destroyed or far away, and the snail that Grime had been driving was now lying lifeless in the forest floor.

All that was left were two pieces of the broken dice, showing off snake eyes.

Pepper grinned maliciously. Muck would be most pleased that his son was on the right path.

"Wake up…"

He didn't want to. The grass felt comfortable.

"Wake up…"

If he were to close his eyes, he would rest. A growing toad needed his rest. Besides…

"Wake up…"

Who knew what dreams a dead man dreams when he is no longer afraid to dream?

"WAKE UP!"

But alas, Grime knew he had a job to do.

Shaking his whole body, his right arm reeling from the explosion, a little weak now, a little frail. Unable to fulfill its purpose.

"Just like me.", he thought, as he trudged down the forest floor, slowly assessing his situation.

His carriage is nowhere to be seen, for obvious reasons. The supplies wouldn't have survived (not that he was in any mood to eat), and his snail was gone for sure.

Ignoring the all too familiar pang of pain, Grime looked around, and saw nothing but branches, thorny bushes and leaves. Pall Forest didn't seem as daunting as he thought…

For now…

Beginning his long journey, Grime tried to think of his friend. Wrecker was somewhere in these woods, and he had to save him and fast. It would take all his strength and focus to do what's right.

But Grime's mind kept wandering on the worn out path of regret, as he could see not leaves and spiderwebs, but the market square hail him as some… Some…

"God. They saw you as a god. And you should have told them otherwise.", a gone but never forgotten voice he longed for reprimanded him, as he deserved.

Grime looked down, like a little boy, disappointed in himself. "I… I tried to. But… I failed."

"Stop pitying yourself. You are not a god, but you are wise enough to know that you can use your influence to show them the way.", the voice continued, warmer and more understanding now.

Grime nodded, as he ducked a branch, afraid of being hurt. His lip was still bleeding, his cut still hurt.

"Self inflicted wounds were always your chosen weapon. But your words are way more effective. And they'll listen if you try."

"They'll listen because they HAVE to!", a different voice broke in, and Grime felt shame once more, not bothering to stop the thorns from piercing his skin, cutting his flesh.

"He is a toad! Why, they're lucky he didn't execute each and every one of them for DARING to speak!", the angrier voice boomed.

"They're lucky to still be alive thanks to you! Grime would make it not lucky, but necessary!", the softer voice shot back.

Grime tried not to pick a side, torn as ever by the two voices, as he cut down a bush. "I… I didn't mean to fail you both."

"You only failed yourself, as we all do.", the warmer voice soothed, but the harsher voice countered.

"Your failure was not to seize the moment and STAMP your authority! Amphibia will never be safe if you compromise and show weakness!"

The soft voice reacted with rage as Grime sat down on a rock and tried to contain his splitting head, a tear shedding, which he didn't know if he should wipe or not.

"That WEAKNESS is his greatest strength!"

"A king is but a peasant if he kneels instead of standing."

This took Grime's attention, and he replied to the voice in his head with denial and disbelief. "I… I am not a king! You're not a king! We are protectors!"

The voice only laughed scarily in reply. "For someone with sharp a mind as yours, your sword is too dull."

"Because he wields not a sword, but his heart!", the softer voice retorted, but by now Grime wanted to smash his head in if it stopped the conflict.

"Please, stop! I… I am your son! I don't belong to any side! And… And I didn't kill the frog because it's not who I am!"

Both voices stopped, but Grime felt a lump in his throat as he looked at his hands and wondered…

"…Who… Am I?"

(First half of Anakin's Theme (Phantom Menace) – John Williams)

"Grime! Grime, where are you, sweetheart?", Lily, mother of the future captain of the Toads and ruler of Amphibia, called out loudly as she passed by the training session Muck, his father, was overseeing. The golden kill house, which was adorned with bags made to look like frogs, a table full of knives, daggers, swords, katanna and crossbows and maps indicating what sort of positions and flanks the men should assemble in, was large and imposing, making even the tallest of toads look like a speck of dust in its grand size and width. The men were in complete synchronization up to this point, each one stabbing their swords in the air and supporting with their daggers in perfect harmony, but Lily's interruption proved distracting, the men immediately looking around for the young prince with fear and alarm, especially one soldier who had a tendency to look for and sometimes protect the boy when he was not where he was supposed to be.

Captain Muck growled; this was a most inopportune time for his son and wife to get in the way. The treasury needed a big boost since Dread Pirate Mog's daring robbery of his hard earned gold, and he had no time for such distractions. "How do you manage to lose such a bundle of energy so often, wife?", he asked, clearly frustrated. This had been a common trend the last few weeks, and Muck had half a mind to send the boy away or even discipline him if it meant compliance. A soldier is supposed to follow orders and listen, not go off on inane pursuits!

Lily, however, was not going to wilt to his demands so easily, not that she ever did. Many toads still wondered what the respectable and hard as wood leader saw in the free spirited and defiant wildflower. Whatever it was, it had long since disappeared, especially due to their rift over the one thing they shared; a son. "Perhaps he wouldn't run off so often if he had playtimes instead of war room meetings."

Some of the soldiers, used to this showing of disrespect, silently chuckled, happy to see their Captain knocked down a peg. Muck was not one to be shown up by anyone, least of all in front of his men, but he had an appearance to keep up, so Lily got to keep her head for now (unlike those he heard who chuckled, who will be disciplined, though not killed. Not yet, that is…). But he gritted his teeth as she passed; this woman did not know her place, and he was getting sick and tired of it. He would NOT lose his influence thanks to some wench who thought herself smarter than him. He was a king, and his queen would cooperate or pay the price.

But now was not the time or place for that… And besides, he needed someone to keep the boy alive as he prepared him for the throne.

So Muck chose to resume his session, only one soldier taking a moment to keep looking before resuming his training. Muck would have said something, but Wrecker was his best trooper, so he stayed silent again.

Meanwhile, Lily found herself near the forest that marked the entrance and exit to and from Toad Tower. The trees were currently in the usual spring summer outlook Amphibia had, which ensured a lovely breeze passed by, a few leaves accidentally falling on her nose. The grass was green and wet and soothing as she found her son, 8 years old and a lot smaller, but with the same love for life and burning passion that hurt as much as it helped. He was currently spying on some of the actually tiny ants that lived in a miniscule ant hill near the camp. He was intrigued by their way of life: they were all in service of a queen, true, but they all worked together for one cause, taking care of each other and helping each other out, in total synchronization and harmony.

Lily, mother's pride gleaming from her soul, smiled as she stood above him and caressed his bald head, every touch gentle and careful so as to not touch him too much. "So, how's that colony of yours?"

"It's not my colony.", Grime was quick to correct, barely looking up. "It's theirs. No one owns it… They just keep it alive together."

Lily chuckled and sat down next to him as he kept staring, leaves crunching melodiously from her body. "Any news, my little braveheart?"

Grime smiled at his affectionate nickname and hugged his knees to himself as he spoke to her, eyes widening with each statement. "Well, they carried some leaves and twigs recently, and there was this gust of wind that nearly killed Anthon, but he's fine now. Oh, and I think I saw some of the babies!"

"That sounds fun! But (sigh) your father probably wants you to go to another meeting by now, so let's get you washed up.", Lily said, wishing she didn't have to take him away from there, but knowing the price if she didn't..

Grime wasn't too thrilled, but he never wanted to let his father down, and he DID want to help out with the never ending battle to protect his toad brothers and sisters, so he stood up, but before he did, he got bit by an ant that dangled on his finger.

Getting red, a fire setting off in his chest, he stomped his foot in rage and tried to throw the ant away, which only made it bite him again. "OW! Stupid ant! That hurt!"

It stung quite a bit, and Lily was quick to sooth him, but not without a concerned look. "Grime, honey… I thought Anthony was your favorite!"

Grime refused to look at her, but shame was already building in his chest. How did it always happen so quickly? "Well… Yeah, but he still bit me! This is supposed to be the one place where I don't get hurt!". He was being defensive, he knew, but it always hurt to misbehave. He already felt worthless and stupid.

Lily knew what he was referring to, and she sighed morosely as she caressed his finger. "I know, but… But that doesn't mean you can respond with violence. The little ant doesn't know better. And if you hadn't responded that way it wouldn't have done it again."

Grime was getting embarrassed; he had overreacted as usual. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just hate getting bit."

"No one likes being bit. But sometimes you just get bit."

Spotting a hurt butterfly, she nudged Grime and showed him the creature. "Take this gentleman for example: He got his wings, his greatest strength, hurt. That is bad news, and I bet he's worried sick! Maybe even angry!"

Grime nodded, immediately understanding. He felt pretty similar to that butterfly, if the marks on his palms and lips had anything to say.

Lily then gently held the butterfly in her hands and, with what seemed to be a bit of magic, repaired the poor creature's wings in a moment. "But show a bit of love and care… And your wound will be gone."

The butterfly flew away, and Grime too felt free, if for a moment.

"Remember, my blessing… Love heals all. Pain is a part of life… But it doesn't have to define you."

She held his hands and smiled, soothing his scars. "Beneath all these marks is a heart of gold. And like those ants you love, you too will have a role. And I KNOW you'll do great!"

Grime grinned, feeling way better now. His heart aloft, he hugged his mother and said "I'll do more than great! One day, everyone in Amphibia will be safe because of me!"

The hug lasted a while, and by then, Muck was getting frustrated with what he saw. Grime was supposed to be ready by now for another war room meeting, instead he was acting like a child!

Accompanied by a trying not to show it but very worried Wrecker, Muck stepped towards his son with silent disapproval. "Tardiness does not become of you, son."

Grime stood up to his feet and saluted, stating "Sorry, sir!", and he began to get ready to run in the house when…

SQEW!

The explosive (but not as usual) calling sound of a heron put everyone on high alert: Lily protectively held her son's hand, Much put his hand on Grime's shoulder and handed him his sword, and Wrecker held his sword aloft and stepped in front of the boy to keep him safe.

Grime, unsure of who to follow, felt as if he owed his father an apology for being late, so he began to step closer with the sword, his mother not approving.

"Muck, he's 8 years old!"

"Only two years off from starting training. This is good preparation!"

"He's a child!"

"Thanks to you, he is!"

Grime tried to ignore the argument, as he stepped closer, Wrecker not sure whether to pull him back or not, but still holding his sword up to the sound, which was approaching.

Grime closed his eyes in fear as the bird showed its head and…

"…Are you sure it's a heron?"

Grime had opened his eyes, and he was confused to find that the bird was about as tall as him, which wasn't very tall. As he asked his question, the tentative heron got clearer in the light; it's white feathers and wings were ruffled and nearly broken, barely able to move. Its eyes were tear filled and it was clearly in pain, as it limped into their presence and squaked with fear and anguish. It tripped on its own legs and finally crashed next to Grime and Wrecker, the two of them unsure of what to do.

Muck was decidedly more sure. "Kill that monster, Grime, before it kills you first! Show it who's boss!"

"Don't you see the poor thing is hurt?", Lily countered, and Muck was this close to blowing a fuse.

"Woman, are you actually defending one of our most fearful enemies?"

Arms on her hips, Lily explained to Muck how he was wrong. "Its size and call are those of a young heron, perhaps one that was born wrong. It will never grow more than this. And it can't exactly hurt anyone when it's flat out fainting!"

Grime, again trying to ignore the conflict, stepped closer towards the creature, the heavy sword he carried barely hoisted by his small arms as he considered stabbing the animal where it was and protecting his compatriots. Herons weren't like ants; they were destructive creatures, towering beasts of the night that continuously tried to eat his own kind.

They were monsters, pure expressions of sound, fury, and primal instinct.

…But Grime couldn't.

Placing the sword down, Grime looked at the pained bird, who seemed to look into his eyes with prayer, and he softly placed his hand on the poor creature's head. At first, it did not go according to plan: The heron tried to bite his hand, and Grime just managed not to lose it.

"Are you all right?", were the only words Wrecker spoke as he neared the heron and blocked Grime, while Lily too looked concerned.

Muck demanded retribution. "Son, it tried to hurt you! Teach it a lesson!"

But Lily couldn't even counter, since Grime instead tried again, showing even more slow and throughout care and nurture, his caress on its fur calming it down as he told it with his eyes that he wouldn't hurt it.

Turning around to them, the heron now slowly rising and licking the little toad, Grime said "…1 down… Hundreds more to go."

Grime ended up adopting the size challenged heron, who he named Alexander, and despite his father's disbelief and his mother's momentary concern, the two ended up becoming very good friends. Grime swore he'd protect it…

And he did.

Still traversing down the forest, feeling horrible and lost, Grime tried to ignore the intense flashback he had had. Splashing his face over with river water, Grime disguised his tears with it and continued on the path. The winds began to change, and Grime saw that the sky was turning darker… Night would fall soon, and he was alone, cold, and hungry.

His stomach clenched and his skin shivered and the voices continued to barrage him as he began to see spots. The forest was affecting him already, the branches scratching him and the mosquitos biting him and the rocks tripping him to submission, as he lay on the forest floor and closed his eyes in regret.

His chest felt heavy, as heavy as the task laid before him. It rose slowly but surely, but could he be slow but sure?

His arms felt like they were weighed on by a million ton weights, and his legs screamed when he tried to move them. He hadn't even crossed that much of the forest.

"Perhaps… Perhaps… Perhaps I just need to rest…", he breathed, liking how it felt to let it go.

"Perhaps… It is better this way. After all, I hate being bit."

Grime wished he could apologize, but it was too late. He would not be forgiven, and he wondered if he should. He couldn't save his men, he couldn't be a god, he couldn't foster peace, he couldn't find his friend.

He was just a little boy looking for a safe place and failing to keep the place he had safe.

And for a minute, Grime wondered if perhaps he'd open his eyes and see his soul…

But instead he saw sunlight reflect off of the figure above him.

It was a grown beetle, but he couldn't tell since it was licking his face, which admittedly wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

Still, he backed off immediately, spotting 3 weakness points and at least 5 ways his hands, legs, or any nearby branch could make sure he was going to continue failing his quest.

But that defensive and offensive position he took soon relaxed as he saw the beetle also backed up, and a lot more scared than him. Grime sighed with understanding; the beetle had way more reason to be frightened than him. It would not attack if he didn't. It was that simple, yet even simple things were oft forgotten at the moment they're needed.

Wiping his face, he felt as if rain had washed over him, and he slowly stood up, well aware now that sudden movements would scare his new companion. He slowly approached, trying to soften his face to make himself look less intimidating, and was surprised to see it work quickly. His hands comforting immediately, he smiled softly at the creature before him, admiring its very existence, and how it was unlike anything else in Amphibia.

He was still petting the hard yet smooth shell of the beetle as he asked, in the quietest voice "Hello, dear. What brings a lovely wonder such as yourself to someone like me?"

His eyes darted around, considering the possibility it was being hunted, but instead he saw hiding behind the thicket, a tinier beetle, one that could barely walk as it sort of tripped towards him and snapped its tusks.

Grime couldn't help but smile as he caressed the other one too. "A pleasure to meet you too, young one. I see you are, like me, searching for safe passage?"

The beetle (who was a mother) seemed to understand, and she nodded her head and stood by her offspring protectively.

Grime decided to make himself useful, and he smiled as he did, happy for a chance to assist the travellers. "Perhaps we could find an exit together."

And so, Grime felt a little less lonely as he began to tell the Beetle of his quest, carrying the young one with both his hands and making sure it didn't get hit by the branches by taking them on himself.

(The Nightingale - Marcin Przybyłowicz)
"Ok, it's getting dark, and I bet you're getting hungry!", Wrecker announced as he finally stopped walking down the path that cut through the forest and gazed around at the grassy patch of nothing that was surrounded by trees and bushes they were standing on. It was pretty as a picture, and he couldn't help but smile for once at the sight. It felt like home.

Annie, feeling her tummy grumble, nodded with excited eyes, bouncing from one foot to the other with a grin. "I'm hungry all right… Hungry for camping! Nature is about to get schooled, ya hear dawg?!"

"…Why did no one tell me language was brutally murdered?", Wrecker commented, as he and Annie looked around at their surroundings, the once very hot sun now slightly lower in the sky, painting their surroundings in something not quite blue and not quite orange. Night would fall soon, but there was still enough sunlight to set camp, and Wrecker was hell bent on getting it right, despite his limited sources.

Taking his sword out, Wrecker pointed at the trees, Annie looking at them but also looking at the other curious sights. "Now, we don't have any camping supplies, but thankfully, Ol' Wrecker here is an expert on getting by with nothin'!", he said, and he began to saw off a branch with his sword, pointing Annie to the leaves. "We're gonna take these branches and leaves and make a tent out of them!"

But instead of going, Annie looked back and forth from Wrecker to the leaves. Her eyes kept moving around, and she seemed rooted to the spot.

Wrecker, sure she was distracted, grunted and sighed as his sawing continued, splinters of wood entering his eyes. "Kid, focus! I need leaves on the ground, not your head in the clouds!"

Annie quickly protested, defending herself. "I'm not in the clouds! I just…"

"I just what? You look back and forth and you don't move and I'm supposed to think you're focusing?", he tutted, as he kept sawing, shaking his head. "Kids really are defensive."

Annie pouted and gave Wrecker a stink eye, not liking how he didn't listen to her, but there wasn't much of a choice, and reminding herself of her silent vow, she decided to do her work anyway. She marched with diligence to the leaves, and Wrecker found himself looking at the way she moved with surprising attention. It was hard to explain, but there was something about how she almost seemed to bounce and skip as she walked, as if she was such a bundle of energy and positivity, that it almost made Wrecker wish it would never change.

Something about the fact that she was even moving at all made him feel a little calmer, and a little happier.

But now was not the time for daydreaming! Wrecker pinched himself and went back to his work, wiping some mucus off as he did. He breathed deeply, and for a moment saw his smaller hands as he carried garden tools for his father. This forest was having weird effect on his mind, he kept thinking there was something above him but everytime he looked up there was just sky.

"Odd.", he thought, and he kept on with his work, sawing off every branch in the area, while Annie carried over as many leaves as she could. They finally packed them all in the center of the grassy patch and stepped back to see their work.

A wind blew as they observed their pile, a small assortment of branches and leaves. It would surely not be enough for a tent, and Wrecker was confounded by it. How had he miscalculated?

He looked over at Annie, who now looked a little cautious as she raised her hand.

"I wanted to say that I think we could use some of those big sticks over there! Plus some of that long grass!", Annie pointed out. "You know, when you said I was phasing out."

Wrecker was too annoyed by his own mistake to apologize, but Annie didn't know that, so she felt a little grumpy as she walked down with him into the deeper woods to get the big sticks and long grass. The two didn't really talk too much as they worked, but Wrecker every so often looked at Annie to make sure she wasn't hurt by one of the many dangerous insects and animals around in the forest, or sometimes pointing out what he knew about this animal or this this flower was nice, and Annie every so often looked over at Wrecker and felt bad that she was being a little wishy washy, so she would momentarily caress his head or hand, something he was NOT used to. It was nice, but…

"She shouldn't be gifting me with anything"., he thought with a heavy sigh as he dropped off another large stick and ignored the scratches it left on his palm. Except maybe a little more focus and respect, because…

"LOOK OUT!", he nearly screamed as he sliced a gigantic grasshopper in half. Breathing heavily, Wrecker was more than a little annoyed when he saw that Annie was picking daisies.

"That grasshopper could have killed you, and then what would I do? Burry you in a shelter with no soft grass cover? Your back would hurt!"

"…I would be dead.", Annie dryly pointed out, as she picked a daisy and shoved it into her pocket.

"That's… That's not the point!", Wrecker shouted, before again seething at himself 'cause he was angry. "Look… Look…", he said, breathing heavily, and Annie got concerned. Wrecker felt as if he was losing his mind, why did he feel like his chest was being enveloped? Why was he sinking?

After a few minutes, the two went back to work, but Annie kept stealing worried glances at Wrecker, and Wrecker kept feeling guilty for subjecting her to pitying him.

Finally, they were able to commence shelter building. It didn't take that much time thankfully, Wrecker's survival skills shining through, as well as Annie's hard work and resourcefulness. By the end of it, it was a decent enough shelter with just enough room to sleep and sit in it, and considering the February clouds that were gathering, rain would shortly invade their premises.

Which meant that a fire had to be built NOW so that food could be made for the kid.

"Stay back there, but not too much.", Wrecker instructed, and Annie moved back on the leaves as Wrecker began to rub two stones together to get that spark to jump on the bonfire of sticks he had made.

(Sleeping Under The Stars – Jason Stephenson)

It was long and hard work, however, and soon Annie was blabbing all about her old house and friends. "Xena said she wanted to go out like a champ, all bloodied and bruised in the ring, beating her opponent with her last breath and collapsing in a pool of sweat and tears. Gross and awesome, I know!"

Annie then got even more excited, her hands flapping in the air as she explained Shirley's preferred death. "Shirley thought that Xena was mad, a peaceful death was better. But Shirley was very provocative and in your face, so she also wanted to die whilst flipping off a cardboard sign that said "The Man" and also she wanted this group of silk worms to moo "Happy Birthday" as she croaked."

Wrecker shook his head humorously, enjoying the girl's enthusiasm. "You Marsh Pondian's have strange traditions."

"Had!", Annie corrected, her voice taking on a strange inflection. "Had strange traditions, they're all dead, cept for lil ol me!"

Wrecker STILL didn't get this girl, but he still tried his best to smile at her as she continued, even though he was getting a headache.

"Well, then, how's about you?", he suddenly asked, taking her by surprise. But Annie was happy to share anything if it meant she was focusing only on that.

"Well, IF I were to die…"

"If?", Wrecker asked, a hint of a smirk on his weathered face.

Annie stuck her tongue out but still smiled as she continued. "Ok, WHEN I die, I want to go out in style! Like, I want to do something incredible, and die saving the whole universe!"

Wrecker stifled a chuckle as the sparks finally started a small fire, its embers already warming Annie, but doing nothing to his ice cold bones. "Well, that's mighty ambitious! But be careful…", he added wistfully, regret lacing his words. "Wishes have a tendency to get cold feet."

Annie considered this, before her desire for optimism overtook her. Placing her feet a little nearer to the fire, she said "Well, they can't have cold feet now!"

Wrecker shook his head humorously and got closer to the fire too. The flames licked at him, and the glow made him actually feel warm for a moment, or so he thought. He sighed morosely, thinking of the one person who DID make him feel warm, before looking over at Annie, who said "Besides, I have to die spectacularly."

"…How come?"

"…Well, then I would have done something meaningful for once."

A silence formed between them, and Wrecker realized that Annie was not so different from him.

Now he felt even worse.

Moving a little closer to him, smiling brighter than the fire, she said "How about you? Did your village have any interesting customs?"

Wrecker looked at her, and then at the fire, and then at the clouds. A familiar sting. He then looked at her again, and, hoping this would help somewhat, told her what he knew.

"Well… They say in my village that no one is ever truly gone. When a family member dies, they don't just die: Their soul resides up, way up beyond the clouds, and they use those to help their descendants."

"How?", Annie asks, scooching even closer, now almost holding his hand, her eyes shining like the fire in front of them.

Wrecker felt a familiar tightening in his throat, and he fought it down. "…Well… They say that when you…"

He paused for a moment, struggling with the truth.

"…When… When you look at the clouds, your ancestors send you an eternal hug, one that you feel in your heart each time you gaze at the sky. And then you know you're not alone."

Annie was wonderstruck by the story: Was that the feeling she was having since yesterday, and, now that she thought about it, before that as well? Were her parents, maybe even her friends, supporting her on the way?

Suddenly, Annie didn't feel very lonely after all.

Beaming, she sighed contently and laid on the grass, looking up at the clouds and feeling loved. "Now I know what that feeling is."

She then turned to Wrecker and smiled innocently. "What's yours feel like?"

Wrecker was hoping she wouldn't ask that, but he wasn't going to lie. Looking up at the clouds, knowing both his parents were there, Wrecker simply stated "…I wouldn't know."

"…Are your parents still alive?"

"…No."

…

For a while, Annie didn't know what to say.

And then she did.

"…I'll give you one when I die. If I go before you, that is."

…

Wrecker suddenly felt very warm, despite the fire's weakness.

And he would now have fought a million soldiers if it meant he could give back to this strange girl who cared way too much for him.

But despite this moment, Wrecker was still finding it hard to guard her, which was reinforced just a moment later as Annie got up a little too fast and nearly fell on her face on the fire.

If it wasn't for Wrecker's quick thinking and strong grip, Annie could have…

"You could have died!"

Well, that.

"Why weren't you more careful? You can't just stand up like that! Think, girl, think!"

Annie knew Wrecker was right, she just wished he didn't shout so much. "Sorry."

"Sorry isn't enough! How many times must I tell you that?"

Annie nodded, ashamed at her mistake. "Ok, sorry…"

"Frog's sake, stop interrupting me!"

"But… But I didn't!", Annie countered, but Wrecker just kept walking, grumbling and ignoring her, looking like his head was splitting. Annie hugged herself, now feeling cold. What was she doing wrong? Surely that moment they just had didn't mean nothing, right? Yet, he just got so angry. He was right about the fire, of course, but she hadn't interrupted him!

Suddenly, Wrecker came back and said that he was "Going to get some food for her". Which was nice, but Annie was still feeling bad about the whole conflict between them.

Deciding to make things right, Annie began to offer her help. "Why don't I join you? Two heads and two tongues are better than one!", she pitched, shooting her tongue out and getting flung to a tree, getting hurt.

Once Wrecker stood her up, he was angry again. "What's the point? Your head just shuts down every time you hafta do somethin'! You'll just get hurt and lose us time before nightfall!"

Wrecker walked off, regretting his words but also feeling as if they were right. Annie meanwhile just felt upset, but she refused to cry. She had to keep it together.

Still… it hurt that the one person she had in the world seemed to find her such a burden.

But perhaps it was her fault! Perhaps she needed to apologize, properly, and he'd like her again!

But how?

Annie looked up and saw some daisies blow softly on the forest floor

Smiling, she began to collect them in her hands…

(Hurt – Johnny Cash)

Wrecker, meanwhile, trudged down the forest floor, feeling like shit. On the one hand, he hated getting angry at Annie. How could he have the nerve to be angry at someone else? But on the other hand, she was acting foolishly, and she was constantly talking and running around and fucking up. He HAD to tell her off for that or she wouldn't improve! It was that simple!

…When was it ever simple with him? He was probably fucking this up as well.

Wrecker tried to not think about it as he collected more beetles, berries, and swamp mold for flavor. As he collected them, sudden ideas of things Annie might like, or things that could make it better for her rose in his mind, and it felt so strange, so unlike him, yet so…

Right.

Sitting down, Wrecker gripped his head and sighed, the swamp water gently swaying and bubbling. His mind was pounding and he felt like he was floating in an inky sea of doubt, rage and regret. He could never stay on the boat… He was always falling down. Always losing his footing. Always off the mark.

He thought of Annie: On the one hand, she was truly innocent, and truly kind. But on the other hand, he couldn't just let her make such stupid mistakes! Someone had to look after… That is, guard her!

After all, his father had never let him get away with such things. And it helped him…

…Right?

Wrecker could hear his father in his words, in his actions. Annie had to be more careful, but this the way? Was he getting this right?

"Unlikely."

…But Annie's face as she looked down made him look down at the river. Maybe the answer would be there.

Maybe this time he would sink.

Staring into the murky depths of the swamp he was getting mold from, Wrecker saw the mud reflect his father back.

"…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not good enough. For you or for her."

Wrecker swallowed his gulp as the waves swept him back to the day he went fishing with his father, on the day he realized…

"I'm sorry I'm not dead yet…"

"Get on the boat or I'm leaving you behind!", his father called from the already embarking sailboat.

Once more, it was in jest, but a 15 year old Wrecker couldn't help but wonder if his father meant it as he clamored onto the boat, careful as to not tip it and send the two of them drowning.

Father handed him an oar, and soon the two were rowing the boat into the middle of the stream, the cool summer breeze and the peaceful splashing of the water making Wrecker feel sort of good for once. Sort of at peace. It was an appreciated change of rhythm: He was feeling worse and worse these days, which his father blamed on puberty. But at the same time, the Frog who hadn't really grown a smidgen in all those years felt like perhaps it was something else that was making him blue. Perhaps it was because nothing else was growing either; he still felt so lagging in intelligence compared to everyone else, and so lacking in skill compared to everyone else. He was nowhere near as good at farming as his father, he had no friends to speak of, unlike his mother, and he was still such a…

"OW!", he called, the oar he was rowing with accidentally smashing his head, giving him a minor headache.

"Don't stop rowing! You can't just let go!", his father reprimanded, and Wrecker, apologetic for getting hurt, resumed his work.

Trying to ignore his negative thoughts and for once enjoy what was around him, Wrecker took a deep breath and gazed upon the lake they were on. It was sort of like a bayeu, swampy waters below them, the calls of wild animals beyond them and above them a clear blue sky. Wrecker was itching to get to fishing, though, and for good reason: He had been dreaming of this moment for years, the day his father would take him fishing. Maybe it was a little childish, he thought sheepishly, embarrassed already, but back in Wartwood all the kids agreed that if your dad took you fishing, you were officially united as two men, and you earned his utmost respect.

Utmost respect from the men he respected the most; no wonder he was so jittery and his heart was pounding.

It was a chance to compensate for 15 years of nothing! A chance to give back to the family! A chance to earn his surname!

There was nothing he wanted more, so Wrecker tried his best to concentrate as his father began to hand out fishing equipment and orders. "Hold on tightly! Knowing you, I'll probably have to glue it to yer hands!", his father half joked, but Wrecker caught a hint of disdain in his words. Not that he blamed him.

A rod now shaking in his hand, a fishing line already cast into the water, Wrecker tried to wait patiently for a bite. The water rippled slightly and the buzzing of flies was their monotonous melody in a sea of serenity. This was to be the soundtrack of his life for quite a few hours. Wrecker knew it wasn't the most exciting sport, and that it could take ages for a bite, but he had never come for the thrills; he had come for the quiet moment of solidarity. He had come for the moment where his father lightly places a hand on his shoulder, and, with eyes that shine and sparkle with pride, would silently acknowledge that…

That he loves him.

Filled to the brim with anticipation, Wrecker couldn't help but stare back at his father to see if he was getting close.

But instead of pride he was greeted with an old man sleeping on a boat.

But that was ok. He had waited 15 years, he could wait a little bit more.

His toes dipping in the water, his heart in his chest, Wrecker made sure no one was looking as he removed the daisy chain he was working on from the inside of his shirt. He admired it, straightening each flower so it would look nicer in presentation. Dad loved Daisies, so it was only logical that Dad would also love whoever gave him Daisies!

Wrecker put the chain back, careful to not bend it in any way, handling it like a father would with his baby (at least, he thought that's how fathers would handle babies. He wasn't sure), before resuming his silent vigil and awaiting for a bite.

The wind blew on his soft face, and he sighed as he waited, hearing nothing but his heartbeat and his father's snores, different tempos playing at the same time.

For a while, nothing happened, and as the boat swayed, Wrecker wondered if perhaps he should fall asleep too. It didn't seem like a fish would come, after all…

WHIRRRR…

Wrecker could barely believe his eyes. His line was tugging! His… His line was tugging!

He had a bite!

At first, Wrecker thought he should wake up his dad and ask him how to reel the fish in, but his dad always woke up grumpy, so he didn't want to risk that. But he didn't know how to reel in a fish on his own! Well, he couldn't just let their first bite go! But what if he failed?

Wrecker's internal debate continued as the line kept tugging, Wrecker knowing his seconds were numbered, and that he might lose the fish.

Closing his eyes, Wrecker thought of the day he was having…

And how tired he was of failing.

Holding the line with all his might, Wrecker began to reel it back in, slowly, surely, determinedly. His eyes were narrowed, his mind was focused, his heart was swelling. He WOULD make this! He WOULD nail this! He WOULD justify his existence!

The fish tried harder and harder to escape, but Wrecker refused to let it go, hell bent on getting something right just ONCE.

Water splashed everywhere, and Wrecker's poor arms were nearly pulled out of his body, but, sweating and panting, he finally held the slippery fish in his hands, the creature trying its damndest to get back into the water.

Wrecker, thrilled, decided to wake up his dad so that they can make sure the fish doesn't leave. But as he shook him awake, excited exclamations of "Dad! Look what I did!" tumbling out of his mouth, his father awoke not in curiosity but in startled anger, and as he violently shook awake and stood up, grunting and grumbling, the fish was flung right back into the water.

Wrecker's mouth was open and his eyes were full of tears, but it was when his father spoke that his heart broke into a million pieces. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?"

Wrecker stuttered and stammered, fear pounding and pulsating in his chest. "I… I…"

"SPEAK UP, FOR FROG'S SAKE!"

"I just… I just caught a fish, I wanted you to help me kill it!", Wrecker spoke up, his voice a little too loud and shrill for his father's taste, whose eyes burned and nostrils flared up.

"YOU TALKIN' TO ME LIKE THAT? YOU CHALLENGIN' ME?"

"What?!", Wrecker asked, bewildered and confused and shocked. Why did he think he would do that?

He tried to correct him, but before he could, his father prodded him in the chest, causing the boy to back up all the way to the end of the boat, nearly falling off as his father spat venom.

"I'M IN CHARGE OF THIS HOUSE, YA HEAR? I'M THE HEAD OF THIS FAMILY, AND IF YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT AGAIN, YOU'LL BE FUCKING SORRY!"

But the discipline wasn't over. Wrecker's dad kept blowing up like a volcano as Wrecker began to cry from fear and confusion. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE SO FUCKIN' CLUMSY! HOW COULD YOU DROP THAT FISH?!"

Wrecker was now even more confused. He hesitatingly raised a finger. "Dad… I didn't drop the fish, you knocked it out of my hands…"

"YOU CALLIN' ME A LIAR?! WHY CAN'T YOU EVER JUST ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY? YOU FUCKED THIS UP, JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE!"

Wrecker was hiccupping from his tears, before suddenly falling down on the boat and hurting himself. But there was no sympathy to be had. Only disappointment. His father looked ready to kill him as he bellowed "Are you mentally retarded?!"

"…What?", Wrecker asked, shocked.

"ARE YOU MENTALLY RETARDED?! IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOUR BRAIN?!", his father screamed.

"I… I don't know…"

"YOU DON'T KNOW?!"

"N… No! I'm not! I… I don't think I am!", Wrecker gulped out with a cry.

His father smashed his fist in the water and said "THEN STOP FUCKING BEHAVING LIKE YOU ARE!"

The rest of the boat ride was silent as they made their way back to shore.

Wrecker, so afraid his heart pounded in his chest, removed the daisy chain from near his heart, and looked over at his dad. No way he'd want this now. No way he'd want…

"No way he'd want me now."

Dejected and distraught, Wrecker did the only sensible thing, and he threw the daisy chain into the water, watching it sink into the murky depths.

He kept staring, until he could see it land on the bottom of the lake floor.

And feeling emptier than a black hole, he wondered if the sandy bed would give him the rest his normal one couldn't.

Later that day, Wrecker cried as he realized what he was thinking.

And he cried once more when he decided it was the one thing he could do that would make his father happy.

"…I guess some things never change.", Wrecker said to himself in the present day, as he got his ingredients ready and walked back to the camp site.

As he walked, his flashback still hurting his heart, Wrecker wondered if that was how he was treating Annie. Was he hurting her? Did she want to die because of him?

He HAD been very angry, and very quick to complain.

And if anyone was going to be wrong in this relationship, it was going to be him.

Yes, there was no doubt: He was failing once more. The one good thing he had done in his life, and he was already ruining that too.

But some things never change. And that same determination that colored his face when he fought the fish returned to his face now as he decided that he would not fail Annie. He would finish his mission, and he would do it the RIGHT way. No matter what.

"Get ready, kid.", Wrecker said to himself, an encouraged smile on his face. "You're gonna float, not drown. I promise!"

Annie gasp giggled when Wrecker arrived, super excited to show him what she had done. Daisies carefully hidden under her shirt, the blue frog scrambled to her feet wildly and greeted Wrecker with a wave, one he was surprised to receive.

"I was sure she'd be angry…", he thought, but he didn't have time to be surprised by the forgiveness because she was already talking a mile a minute.

"So whatja bring? Are those Beetles? Beetles are yummy, like that Beetle Jerky we had, Klaus was the best at making them, ya know, before he got disintegrated with the rest of my town, the sun's almost down so we better hurry, also I saw this dragonfly it was beautiful! Wanna see something I did?!"

Wrecker's head hurt from all the talk, but remembering his flashback, he tried his best not to ask for quiet, but rather for her to sit down and eat. "It'll take some time to cook, but using your soup bowl from earlier, we should have some delicious Swamp Mold Pot Pie, Soup style!"

Wrecker allowed himself to be prideful for once as Annie handed the bowl and jumpily jittered, waiting for the right moment to show him her gift. "My family's been making this for generations! It's a delicacy, so I am sure it will fill you up enough until we reach our next pit stop!"

"Really? Neat! What else did your family make?", Annie asked curiously, scooching closer. She was happy that Nice Wrecker was back again.

Wrecker absentmindedly spoke as he stirred the ingredients in the bowl, breathing in the musky smell of the soup. "Oh, we were farmers! We had a ton of recipes, like Salty Slug Stew, Apple Worm Pie, Fly Bites with Mud…" He tasted the soup, wondering if the food was supposed to still be alive when served. He had never really cooked before, but he had watched his mother many times, and desperate times called for desperate measures. He couldn't just let Annie go hungry!

Annie, meanwhile, was listening attentively, latching on to every bit of information as if her life depended on it. "Wow, that's a lot of recipes! They sound yummy!"

Wrecker drifted off as he stirred. "Yeah… They were…"

He didn't bother to mention those recipes were the ones he tasted at Mrs. Croaker's house.

Annie beamed at him, planning to show her present, when she suddenly remembered a question she had been meaning to ask, sniffing the soup happily as she talked. "Ooh, I forgot to say! I was wondering if you guys have that death tradition we have at my village too!"

Wrecker immediately shook his head. "Oh no, we have quieter traditions! We don't really socialize that much, too."

But Annie was still curious, and she pushed on. "Well… Say you did! How would you want to die?"

Wrecker nearly dropped the bowl, and he adopted a thousand yard stare as Annie began to get concerned. Had she said something wrong?

Wrecker could smell the lake. He could feel the sword. He closed his eyes and saw nothing but the welcoming darkness. Soon he would stop taking up space. Soon he would rest.

But he didn't want to talk about it. Not really.

So an uncomfortable silence reigned, and Annie began to realize she had screwed up. "Sorry, T.W… I mean, Wrecker."

Wrecker tried to ignore it, and he scooped up some soup into the bowl for Annie, sighing heavily. "Here you go. Eat up."

He didn't even look at her as she took it, and Annie wondered if she would be able to show Wrecker her gift. She wondered if it would even help.

Still, at least he made her food! It was a good sign! And it looked scrumptious!

Annie prepared to dig in, before seeing that Wrecker wasn't eating. She then noticed that there was no leftovers from the bowl he had made for her.

She looked down at the food and then at him, and moved closer. "I… I can't possibly eat all of it, so you can take a few bites."

Wrecker shook his head. "I've eaten enough. You need the fuel. Go ahead."

His voice was so lost. So cold. Could it ever dance and sing? Could Annie be helpful enough?

Feeling sad, she dug in, a massive handful in her mouth, before almost gagging. It tasted horrible! And some of the beetles were still alive! Annie wanted to spit it out, but…

She looked at Wrecker, and continued shoveling in food, smiling. It wasn't so bad if you ignored the undercooked parts. As liquid, at least, it was sort of enjoyable!

It wasn't that great, but Wrecker's small smile as she finished was, and she smiled, her mouth dirty with soup juice.

For a moment, Wrecker wondered if he should clean her mouth, but he fought the urge and got up, stretching.

Annie, meanwhile, began to take out her daisy chain, nervous and shy. "Well, um, anyhow, I was just…"

Wrecker couldn't look at her, tired of being judged. "Actually, there's something I'd like to say.", Wrecker started, deciding to apologize to her for his behavior before.

"Well, ok, but like, there's this thing I wanna show you real quick, and I DID talk first so…", Annie said again, stepping closer, holding out the chain and not hearing or seeing the grasshopper that was approaching from behind them.

Wrecker sighed, frustrated. He wanted to make things right, why wouldn't she let him? "You know, back in my village we let the adults talk first, because what they had to say was more important!"

Annie was a little annoyed at that statement. "Um, that's a little rude!"

"I'm not gonna be disrespected by a child! When I was growing up, we respected our guardians! You haven't stopped yapping all day, you can stop for a few moments!"

It felt oddly right to get angry. Annie wasn't respecting him at all! His father would have been screaming by now, and he was right about how horrible Wrecker was, so surely he was right about this too! He had saved Annie, and all she did was jump around and talk non stop and not listen to him!

Annie stomped her foot, still not hearing the approaching grasshopper. "I'm not a child! And since when is it not ok for me to talk? Besides, you've been disrespecting me!"

"CHILDREN can't be disrespected, all they do is fuck up, and it's up to the parents to tell them off until they do better!", Wrecker shouted back, getting steamed up. Why couldn't she just listen? Was he this problematic as well?

"Fuck up? How did I fuck up?", Annie protested, getting emotional. How could they suddenly be fighting? She hadn't done anything! She had just wanted to say something!

Wrecker scoffed, almost laughing, his face covered in shadows and darkness. "How did you not?! You fell down from the tree, you almost crashed into the sign, you almost fell into the fire!"

"And THAT'S reason enough to shout at me?", Annie was flabbergasted and shocked. THIS was what this was all about?

"You're smart, you shouldn't be making such mistakes!"

"That's exactly what they are! Mistakes!"

Wrecker shook his head with disgust. She was reminding him of himself. "Let me tell you this, kid: You have to learn how to take responsibility for your actions! Stop thinking of how to escape guilt and just fucking stop making mistakes!"

Annie was about to burst, when suddenly…

CRASH!

The grasshopper smashed into Annie, running off into the night, and the girl fell near the fire, her clothes now aflame.

Wrecker nearly had a heart attack as he rolled her on the ground to kill the flames, but as Annie hyperventilated and nearly began coughing and sputtering from shock, Wrecker went too far.

"THIS is what I was talking about! Why don't you just think?! If you were to just focus for once, you'd have noticed the grasshopper! But no! All you do is run and mess around, instead of just acting properly!"

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Annie stood up suddenly, and, hot tears running down her face, she screamed at Wrecker's face. "WELL MAYBE IF YOU WERE TO FOCUS, YOU WOULD HAVE SEEN THAT I WAS SPARING YOU!"

"Sparing me?!", Wrecker shouted back, but Annie wasn't gonna let him stop her this time.

"If you would have noticed, you big fucking jerk, you would have noticed that I was not talking about the fact that my friends and my neighbors and my whole town and MY FATHER all died! And I'm the only one who survived!"

Annie, choking out pained sobs, growled with regret. "The only one who survived was ME!"

She shook and shivered as she yelled at him. "I'm sad, and angry, and confused, and lost, and terrified, and I'm so guilty that of all people I was the one who got lucky, but I didn't tell you because I knew there was enough on your mind without me being sad as well! I didn't want to bother you, you stupid fucking idiot!"

She kept sobbing, Wrecker beginning to regret what he said. "I know I made some mistakes, I know I can be a lot to handle, and I know that you are going through a lot, but it's not MY FUCKING FAULT! Whatever it is that is making you so guilty, you better fucking deal with it! Because it's turning you into an asshole that gets angry at me for existing!"

"That's not true!", Wrecker was quick to correct, but Annie wasn't finished.

"Really? Because if it's not true, how come you never once apologized for being wrong today? I was right at the Farmer's market, I was right about the shelter, and I was right about being knocked over by accident, but you don't care! You just wanted to shout at me!"

"I… I don't want to shout at you!"

"Then don't! It's not my fault you hate yourself!"

…

"…It's not."

Annie, turned around, too angry to listen.

Wrecker looked down, thinking of how he had acted. His father would have done all that. And his father hated him.

And here he was, treating Annie wrongly for no reason.

She hadn't done anything. She had just made a few mistakes. But if getting angry wasn't the way, what was?

Annie, meanwhile, began to cry even more as she threw the daisy chain at his feet.

"…And to think that I wanted to make you feel better."

Wrecker picked up the chain…

And he was 15 years old again, standing in Mrs. Croaker's doorway, tears in his eyes…

(Grandma's Cottage – Fantasy and World Music by the Fiechters)

"Come in, it's always open!", Mrs. Croaker called out, only to see…

"…Sorry.", Wrecker apologized as his tears stained the door mat, a Bull Caterpillar slinking next to him and nuzzling his head to wipe the tears. "I'll clean the mat."

But Mrs. Croaker had nothing but sympathy for the lad, and she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "I was expecting you, but not like this."

Wrecker was already shaming himself and wishing he would get punished, but instead Mrs. Croaker went to her knees and smiled softly at him, that ever soothing hand still lightly caressing his shoulder. She was wearing a heavily stained apron, and if the delicious aroma was what he thought it was, Croaker was making her famous Croaker stew, which was making Wrecker's stomach grumble. He hadn't had dinner or breakfast, so that made sense.

"Now, I might not be the most entertaining company, but gosh darn it, I'm not gonna let you off on your merry way till you flash me that beautiful smile of yours!"

Wrecker almost did, but he was too heartbroken to try, so Croaker led him in and seated him in her living room.

It was an oddly decorated house, pale pink walls covered in green and yellow symbols Wrecker couldn't decipher. Picture frames illustrated Mrs. Croaker's life with a very specific and passionate brush; Ancient tribal frog and toad masks, mushrooms and trees and scenic photos of the forests surrounding Wartwood, old aquaintences and pets.

Not to mention all the images of her beloved pet spider, Fred.

"How are ya, boy?", Wrecker asked, petting the young and full of life arachnid. "Maybe I should get a pet spider one day…", Wrecker wondered, as he kept glancing at the room.

There was so much to look at: The ever present candy bowl she kept for any passing friend, that creepy doll she kept on the rocking chair, her collection of romantic novels (Wrecker still didn't get those, but at least now he understood why he nearly had a heartattack every time he saw his crush). It was a strange house, true, cluttered with all kinds of odds and ends, but of all the things it had that his house didn't, the most obvious was how warm and welcoming it was.

Wrecker felt he could sleep here, which was more than he could say for his house that looked more like a barren wasteland than a home sometimes.

"Your house is like a picture book, Mrs. Croaker! You must have travelled all of Amphibia to get all this exotic stuff!", Wrecker commented in wonder and awe as he took a blanket and stared at it.

Mrs. Croaker shook her head in pain and anguish. No court would ever free Wrecker, no rule could be broken without everyone knowing. He was truly a hostage in his own home.

Still, she at least had an hour to cheer him up a day, which was better than nothing. Handing him a warm and soothing cup of jinsing tea and a plate of cookies, she sat down in front of him, holding a meticulously crafted ship in a bottle and admiring it. "Well, sadly, I didn't have to move a single step to get all this."

Wrecker was puzzled by this admission, and soon came up with a theory. "Wait, so you DO have super speed? Ha! Mellow owes me so much now!"

Mrs. Croaker let out one of her explosive laughs, and Wrecker got flustered, though she soon explained. "Pardon my guffaw, dearie, you're just such a riot! No, I don't have super speed."

She sighed melancholically and handed over to Wrecker one of her many family photos from a VERY crowded cabinet, one that looked surprisingly sturdy and firm as it stood. Wrecker delicately handled the image as he saw a young, blonde lilac frog who looked a lot like Mrs. Croaker, but with freckles and a more youthful reflection.

"She looks like you.", Wrecker pointed out, and Croaker turned nostalgic.

"Well, I'd like to think my daughter looks even better than lil ol me."

Wrecker's jaw nearly hit the floor, which did allow for more of Croaker's delicious cookies to enter his mouth. "Whaaaaaat?"

Croaker chuckled and she took the photo back, delicately circling her thumb around the face of her greatest gift. "Allyson doesn't write that much, but that means she's not bored. She's out there, experiencing the world and seeing the sights! And one day, this farm will raise enough money for me to see her again!"

A single tear dried on her cheek. "So I don't mind it that the postman doesn't come by anymore."

Wrecker nodded sadly, taking a sip of his tea and narrowly not burning his tongue, since it had cooled just right. "I guess he'll come by my house a lot. My parents would never let me go out to see the world, on account of my stunted growth."

He sniffled. "And my clumsiness."

He choked back a sob. "And my idiocy."

He finally shed a tear as he felt like a daisy chain sinking into the depths of the ocean. "And because I'm mentally retarded."

At first, Mrs. Croaker said nothing, as Wrecker kept on trembling and shivering. After a few moments of careful consideration, Mrs. Croaker offered a question. "Wrecker… Are you malicious?"

Wrecker wasn't sure he understood, and he voiced his uncertainty as he held his legs to his chest. "What does malicious mean?"

Mrs. Croaker sighed and she sat a little closer to him, locking eyes with the youth. "What happened on the fishing trip, whatever it was… Did you do it on purpose?"

Wrecker knew what his father thought, and normally Wrecker would have just taken the blame.

But Mrs. Croaker's eyes looked like welcoming lights. Mrs. Croaker's eyes were open, not closed. He wasn't being judged. He was being seen. "…No."

"Then, perhaps it's time you stopped blaming yourself for an accident. For all accidents!", Mrs. Croaker offered, standing up and lifting the boy at the same time to her height, never breaking the stare.

She talked slowly and seriously, but not without respect. She knew that he was smarter than he thought. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't try to improve. That doesn't mean you can make all the mistakes. But it does mean something much more important; you are not a burden. You are a frog. And no frog is perfect."

"…But what if I'm too imperfect?", Wrecker asked, tears coating his cheeks once more.

Mrs. Croaker smiled softly and asked with a whisper. "Wrecker, baby… When you go to sleep, what does your heart whisper?"

Wrecker hesitated, before stammering "…I… I want to make others smile, so they don't have to suffer like me."

"…Then you're more than perfect, darling…"

But right now, Wrecker didn't feel perfect. He felt like the monster his father and mother always warned him he was.

He looked up at Annie, and his heart cracked as he heard her sob.

Refusing to beg for forgiveness, since he hadn't earned a bit of it, Wrecker turned around and once more wondered if perhaps he should have followed the daisy chain.

"…I need to go for a walk to think. Please be careful."

Annie said nothing as Wrecker walked out of the clearing and headed towards the swamp waters, knowing he had made someone suffer like him and hating himself even more for it.

And as he cried, so did Annie, who regretted what she had said. "I was too hard on him! I know he doesn't mean to, who knows how fucked up he is! What right do I have to complain? I'm just Annie."

She kept on sobbing. "…I'm just Annie."

"Careful now, upsie daisy, here we go!", Grime said as he lowered the baby beetle from a high rocky place it had climbed up to. He cradled the baby gently as he handed the child back to its mother. "Don't worry, he doesn't have a scratch on him.", Grime reassured as he sat down on the hard stones in the stone circle that surrounded him. His muscles ached and his legs desperately wished for sleep, but he couldn't rest, not until he found Wrecker.

Still, he couldn't deny the pain, his shoulders tensing up and sending a jolt of pain to his brain as the mother beetle and the baby beetle clamored to him, clearly fatigued as well.

Grime smiled softly at them, petting them like he had once petted Alexsander, his heron, and making sure to be as gentle as possible. "Long journey, huh? It's funny… The road is always longest when you wish to not see it."

He chuckled, trying his best to ignore a pang of painful hunger, and, to distract himself, he reminded himself of his goals by telling the beetle of his quest. "So, as I told you before (sorry that I keep repeating myself), I am searching for a lost friend of mine, The Wrecker."

Pretending the beetles asked a question, Grime pretended to answer it. "Who is he? Well, he's a bit of a mystery! No one knows where he came from, or who he is, or why he does what he does. He just appeared one day, brandishing a sword and protecting our town at every opportunity."

Grime got a little nostalgic as he described his friend, his eyes clearly misty. Once more nails dug into his palms. "He's the best warrior in all the toad army! And his fighting is the stuff of legend, the kind that makes you gasp in wonder just from hearing of it!"

Grime then let on a small smile, remembering a moment in time. "…And he is a good friend, even if he would never admit it."

A small silence stood as Grime reminisced over his debt, eyes mixing disappointment with himself alongside pride in his friend. "He saved me, you know? Twice."

The beetles listened attentively, nuzzling up to him, as he petted and explained, looking off into the distance, where hopefully Wrecker wasn't dead. "First time I was but a child, nearly slaughtered by some crazy frogs. Second time… Was two days ago. He doesn't take pride in it, and I don't approve of killing, but…"

His voice cracked. "…He saved me. And in return, I lost him and everyone else. That's why I have to find him."

Grime hugged himself, feeling cold and stupid. Feeling a hollow hole in his chest, as if he could put a hand through it and feel something, yet nothing. "Maybe if I do… I could make both my parents proud. I could finally be a good toad. Wouldn't that be… Magical?"

But the hole felt even emptier as the same old argument repeated itself. "You don't have to make me proud, I already am!", his mother reassured, desperation in her voice at her son thinking such things.

Muck, however, was of a decidedly different line of reasoning: "You would make me proud if you FINALLY accepted who you are! Your hole can be filled with accomplishment, with control! If you could finally be a good enough captain to succeed me, you would live up to the family name!"

The words sounded encouraging, but Lily countered as ever. "He DOESN'T have to prove himself, he owes us nothing!"

"He owes his people! Do they not need protection? Who will fight the threats if Grime's too busy fighting himself?", His father raised.

"Well, maybe we don't need to fight!"

"Maybe we need to stop living in a dream world and see things for what they are!"

"Please, stop!", Grime suddenly yelled, before feeling deep shame. How DARE he yell at his own parents? They, who did nothing but keep him alive, well fed, safe, happy? How DARE he go there?

"I'm sorry for being ungrateful… I just need some sleep.", Grime said, desperately trying to silence his hunger with rest, the knots in his stomach tightening as he rested his head on the rock.

"All right, dear. Sleep well.", Lilly bid farewell, but Muck had one more thing to say.

"Son… You'll never truly rest until the head on your pillow is yours."

And so Grime once more went to sleep asking himself:

"…What kind of me is good enough?"

His tears made a tiny pool and soon he was 9 years old, sitting in his room, with everything money can buy…

(Zuko's Beach Flashback – Jeremy Zuckerman)

"Grime, dear, I need to do some shopping, want to come?", Lily asked, getting her purse in order and rolling her eyes at the 3 guards pointing their swords at her, just in case.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be needlessly blind?", she asked, a tone of perpetual annoyance directed at the soldiers. They grunted in return, and she scoffed.

"Just a minute, mama!", 9 Year Old Grime responded, as he knocked a group of soldiers off of his bedside cabinet. The room, a lavish ballroom size chamber packed to the brim with toys, games, books and maps, was quite the sight, and Lily still found herself gawking sometimes at how fancy it was. While her family had been unfortunately well off enough to catch the eye of the Captain blood line, she had never seen SUCH a posh room for a child. Sometimes her eyes were attracted by the meticulously accurate star chart, sometimes it was the massive ant farm that took a whole side of the room, sometimes it was the piles and piles of the best toad history books that lay open all over the room.

But in the end, her eyes always rested discontentedly at the globe in the middle of the room, and at the boy who was being shaped by all of it.

Grime raced up to her, obediently ready to go. "I just had to shut down the invaders from Wartwood! You never know when a frog will try to take our homes!"

Lily tried not to be shocked next to the livestock that guarded the room. "Grime, honey, I don't think the frogs could invade if they wanted to!"

"Well, of course they couldn't! They're not as good fighters, and they're way less smarter than we are!", Grime said, almost trying to reassure her. "I'm happy we help the frogs, those poor guys would be dead without us!"

"The opposite, if anything.", Lily thought, and she wondered what could she do; her son was slowly being turned into a frog hater (at the very least a toad sheep) by his father, and there wasn't much she could do to stop his influence. Grime loved his father very much despite everything, so it would take something big to…

Lily wanted to strangle her husband, but instead, she took her son by the hand and rushed out of the mansion, and into the streets of Toad Town, golden paved roads and houses as big as hill tops and as shiny as diamonds greeting them.

"Woah! What's the rush, mother?", Grime asked, a little dizzy, as his mother began to half jog to her intended location, the people passing by giving her half bows and cheers.

Lily, looking a little flustered, tried to compose herself. "Oh, nothing, I just don't want to keep you from your fun! Besides, there's something very important for you to see once we get there!"

"Oh, ok!", Grime stated in joy, hoping it was some kind of gift or surprise! Maybe a new armor? His old one was destroyed by those insane frogs a few weeks ago.

As they walked, passing almost every store, which weirded Grime out, the boy talked to her of some of the things he had been learning from his text books. "It's all quite fascinating, mother! It turns out that Frogs are more like pets compared to us, like Alexander! Oooh, I should call him to join us!"

Grime then whistled a merry tune, and in 5 seconds flat, wing flaps that made some toad citizens very disturbed and shaken echoed in the skies, and downs swooped Alexander, licking Grime in the face and cawking happily.

"Down, boy! Down!", Grime called, giggling, and for a moment Lily almost forgot how upset she was. She just smiled at Grime, who got up, tidied himself, and proceeded to look up to his mother.

"…What?", he asked.

"…Nothing.", Lily replied, whilst feeling everything.

She then took his hand and raced with him to her intended location, still desperately needing to save her boy from the darkness.

As they began to leave the shopping district, and enter an all together unfamiliar slum, one that was dirty, disgusting, sickly and grey, Grime got confused. "Mother, I do believe the shops are the other way! Don't worry, I get confused a lot too!"

Lily had to stop herself from blessing her boy, because this was more important, so her footsteps echoed on the pavement as they reached their intended location.

Grime, who was still puzzled, looked at his mother while Alexander nuzzled him with his beak. Lily, breathless, sucked up some air and then panting, pointed at an alleyway they were in.

"…I didn't realize we needed to buy an alleyway. What are going to do with it? And how will we carry it?"

Lily stifled a chuckle before grabbing his hand and leading him in. "Before we get any shopping done, I need you to talk to the people who live here."

Grime got wide eyed. "People live here?"

He looked inside; there was nothing to see but murky puddles of rain and sludge, chipped walls of plaster and the odd sound of giant cockroaches hissing and barking.

Surely no one could live here!

But Lily didn't have to wait long to explain: A sudden cough crawled out of the crevices and soon an elderly frog with a grey beard, his tall ginger daughter and her five children slowly approached the toad child.

Grime was almost gaping: while his clothes were well pressed and clean, their clothes were tattered and covered with holes, so brown and grey one couldn't have known they were ever a different color; While his posture was straight, narrow and bold, emitting status in a moment, theirs was low and crooked, almost as if they were all hunchbacked, almost as if their knees could buckle at any moment.

But of course, the most startling feature was their weight. That is, the lack thereof.

Grime could see their ribcages. Their bones. He could have touched their spines.

He almost wanted to throw up.

"…Who let this happen? How is this possible? Mother, we must take them with us immediately, we must feed them!", Grime demanded, but the old frog coughed in laughter and shook his head sorrowfully.

"Your son is well meaning, I can see. But he has clearly been misinformed."

Grime turned to Lily, who sighed morosely and patted his head. "I HAVE been feeding them. But there's only so much I can withdraw from your father's treasury without arousing suspicion."

"Why? Father surely wouldn't want this!"

Lily bit her bottom lip and stammered. "…Your father… Y… Your father is… Well, let's say he's worried about the invasion."

Grime was confused; how could these frogs invade?

But he then shook his head, laughing at himself. "Well, of course! It's not like all the frogs here are like this!"

When Lily didn't answer, Grime shivered in fright. He was shocked.

But his heart came through. "We must do something."

"This is all we can do."

Grime couldn't believe this, and when the smallest of the frogs sneezed and grasped her chest in pain, he clenched his fist in rage, nails digging into his scars. "This is not ok! We are protectors! We should be able to deal with this!"

He turned to his mother, almost growling. "What can I do? Tell me! I have to fix this!"

"…Well, there is one thing. But I don't know if you can do it."

"I can do anything, Mom! I'm a toad!"

Lily wanted to throw herself at the "mercy" of her husband; how could she do this, how could she give him false hope?

"…You have to disagree with your father.", she finally choked out, tears running down her face.

That silenced Grime. He suddenly grew very small and very frightened. "Last time I did that, I was… I was wrong. And foolish. And rude. I don't want to hurt dad's feelings again."

"And I don't want you to be hurt!", she said, gripping his hands and showing him his scars. She would die if it meant he could forget about them.

Grime retracted his hands coldly, tears in his eyes, which he soon wiped. He felt that hole again. "…I deserved it. I was out of line to refuse a command. I should have punished the soldier like dad said."

Grime could still see it; how the soldier begged for mercy as he held the whip over him; how his father goaded him on, and Grime felt like he could make his father smile for once; how he refused when he couldn't bare to see the man suffer; and how his hands bled all over his pillow that night.

"I can't let father down! Not again! I… I want to make him proud!"

Grime didn't know what to do: On the one hand, this was horrible! But on the other, he couldn't just disappoint his father over and over again!

"I know… But you have to see the truth!", Lily got desperate, not wanting Grime to become a sheep. Her eyes flashed with worry, and it only got worse when Grime laid on her a bombshell:

"…Mom… You don't understand…"

Grime kept sobbing, something Alexander tried to stop by licking his face and softly cawking. The young toad stepped up to his mother and grasped her dress, startling her. "Mom… Either you are lying or dad is lying."

His words were laced with tears as he wept. "I… I can't choose between you!"

And that was when Lily realized she had no choice… But to let fate decide.

Going down to her knees, she embraced Grime and sobbed too, caressing the back of his head. "Baby… I'm sorry. You don't have to choose. And don't worry…"

She grasped his face and smiled, wiping his tears off. "I KNOW you will make the right choice. Whatever that choice is…", she stated, trying not to show bias. "…Whatever it is… You'll make it."

She kissed his forehead softly, leaving a warmth that never really left. "…I promise… You ARE a good toad. And one day, you'll save us all. I promise."

And so, mother and son embraced, Grime declaring "I love you Mom!" and Lily returning the gesture, all while a toad soldier secretly looked on from a window above them, ready to report to Captain Muck of his wife's insolence…

Grime shook awake, remembering it all. It hurt. It always hurt.

His hands didn't bleed on his pillow, but the rocks felt his tears as he thought of his mother.

She believed in him…

And here he was, failing her again. Here he was, not finding his friend, not saving his men, not being a toad…

Here he was…

Why was he still here?

Grime knew that he had to move on, and keep going, but he was so tired…

And so hungry…

His stomach clenched and thrashed about almost, and if that wasn't bad enough, he was now coughing and wheezing. Seeing that the beetles were stirring, he decided to take his mental collapse somewhere else.

Why mental collapse? Oh, because he could see his father now.

As the leaves shook and the moon shone, Muck stood over him with menace in his eyes, and Grime was soon bathed in darkness as his father picked him up and glared at him. The ground could barely be seen, the wind barely be heard, and all that surrounded Grime was hopelessness and shame. He looked down, not daring to look up at or to his father, desperately wishing he could one day look into those eyes as an equal.

But he couldn't… They weren't even on the same playing field. Grime's feet dangled from the air as he closed his eyes in fear and regret.

"…I'm sorry, father."

The insurmountable disgust inherent on Muck's face made Grime wonder if he had ever been more than a constraint, a burden on his father's back as he tried to get on with his life. "You should be."

His breathing could be felt on Grime's face, and his eyes cut his soul to ribbons as he said the words that were in Grime's mouth. "You are not a toad, or a soldier. You're barely my son. And you will never fill the hole in your heart until you let yourself loose and realize your birthright."

Grime stammered as he awaited his punishment, hoping it would hurt a little more this time, for he surely earned his sobs tonight. "But… But I don't know what my birthright is. I want…"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?", Muck screamed into the night, and Grime choked it out.

"All I know is that I want to save Amphibia!"

Muck took this in…

And he slammed Grime onto the rocks, before stabbing him in the heart with his sword.

As Grime blinked away the night, his father's voice called out "Then choose."

Grime wished he could.

He really wished he could.

Sitting by the swamp, closing his eyes, the moonlight shining over him, Wrecker refused to stare at his reflection, lest he decide to remove it permanently. Every time he breathed, he wanted to cut it short because it hurt so much. His shoulders felt like they were carrying the whole universe, and alongside his hardening chest, Wrecker felt so…

Cold. And off. And wrong.

"It's like I can't stop making things worse… It's like no matter what I do, I'll find a way to dig my hole deeper."

He sighed, tears running down his face freely for the first time in years. It was odd… Feeling something. It was like he had to hurt himself just to feel, just to see if he was still real.

If only he wasn't.

"All I've ever done is get in the way…", he sobbed, wishing he could make up for his existence. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry I wasted my miracle…"

Annie's sobs still weighed on his heart as he stared now into the water, his reflection the mask he chose, the mask he wished he could remove…

But he had lost the right to be himself. He lost it a long time ago…

(The Everthere – Elbow)

CRASH!

The door swung open violently, and 20 year old Wrecker, washing the dishes, turned around only to be met with furious glares.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I TOLD YOU TO GET READY FOR THE GUESTS!"

Wrecker had never actually been told that, but he shrugged, used to this by now, and he walked into the living room to present himself, his father and mother muttering about his disobedience. Wrecker had finally managed to grow a bit after years of stilted growth (thanks to his pre-mature birth), but he was still towered over by his father, the man's shadow shading his son completely. His mother just seemed disinterested as usual, which confused Wrecker, since she was insisting about the importance of these guests.

Wrecker decided his parents needed a smile, so he gave them one, but they just glared at him, awaiting the guests. In fact, Wrecker thought as he turned away sadly, he was hearing strange noises all of a sudden. Noises that sounded like screams and cries and sobs. Noises of destruction and fire. But that didn't make any sense! Why, if such a thing were happening, his parents would be shouting at him to flee, no?

When the door opened, Wrecker realized there was one more thing he was wrong about.

5 heavily armed and monstrous looking toad guards, their golden armor nearly blinding, pointed their sharp silver swords at him, the tips nearly cutting into his skin, nearly sheathing blood. Wrecker gulped in fright, tears already almost coming out, when the door opened wider and the men bowed in fright, in awe, in obedience.

Then the most dangerous sword came into the room, and Wrecker suddenly realized his life would never be the same.

For Captain Mire, the leader of Toad Tower and Amphibia, and the most feared figure in all of the world, stepped in to his house and grinned a most malicious grin.

"Hello…"

Short, sure steps serenaded the once safe sanctuary as Captain Mire approached the frog, who turned around to see his parents themselves retreat for a moment in fright. Wrecker was not used to seeing such worry in their eyes; what could Captain Mire possibly want?

And then, Wrecker realized it. Of course! He wanted to take his parents away, probably kill them for not paying enough taxes or something! He had been doing that all over Amphibia the last few weeks, why would he make an exception here in Wartwood?

Well, Wrecker couldn't just let that happen, now could he?

Years of emotional abuse melted away like butter on a slice of bread as Wrecker took a deep breath, and, without a second thought, stepped up to Mire and with one swift motion of his hand, knocked his sword out of his hands.

Even when 5 other swords very nearly sliced him into bits, Wrecker still stared deeply into Mire's eyes, refusing to budge.

"T…Those are my parents. I won't let you hurt them."

In almost any other house, in almost any other place, such bravery, such devotion, such selfless love would have been commended, met with tears of gratitude and cries of returned affection. In any other house, such an act of forgiveness would have been never forgotten.

But this was no other house.

This was Wrecker's house.

"Are you MAD, BOY?!", His father cried, slapping him in the face, which didn't sting as bad as the rejection.

"What are you THINKING?!", His mother screamed, bashing him in the nose and sending him down onto the ground, Wrecker's nose now bleeding heavily.

He was so dazed and confused it was hard to comprehend that Captain Mire had spent the entire time laughing as he picked Wrecker up and studied him. "And to think my son thought this would be a bad idea…", he joked, and he eyed Wrecker with intense intrigue.

"You don't know why I'm here… Do you?"

Wrecker, bloody and winded but not down for the count, responded with no compromise. "I'm… I'm not letting you… Hurt my parents…"

Wrecker expected to be hit, or kicked, or even stabbed in the heart, but instead, he received something way more painful in the form of Captain Mire's evil, echoing laugh that filled the room with foreboding dread.

Finished with his booming laugh, Mire grinned evilly and uttered "Oh, I'm not here for them… They called me here for you…"

Wrecker had to turn around and see his parent's faces to believe it. His heart nearly stopped but his tears didn't as he just shook his head, hoping he'd finally wake up.

Finally, his father spoke up, his mother nodding determinedly. "You can finally be useful, boy. Slave selling packs a pretty penny, and you know family comes first."

Wrecker said nothing… He just stared.

He stared at his parents as they sold him into slavery.

And finally, he walked up to his father, Mire watching on with great interest as he shook and shivered.

On the one hand, this is what he deserved… This is what he had earned for years of uselessness.

And at first, he wanted to bow down and apologize and get carried away so that he could give back a sliver of what he owes them.

But something deep inside him suddenly cracked, and as he looked at his father, he saw neither frog nor family;

He saw a monster.

"…No."

The defiant answer shook the very room, shocked or bemused expressions all around, especially from Wrecker, who had never said such a thing to his parents.

But… For once in his life…

Wrecker felt that he deserved more than slavery.

Not that that changed anything.

SMASH! went the wall as Wrecker was pinned to it by his father, who shook him and hit his back onto the wall until his head pounded like it had a million bombs in it go off at once.

"YOU DARE?! AFTER ALL WE'VE GIVEN YOU, YOU DARE BE UNGRATEFUL?! YOU'RE LUCKY WE DIDN'T KILL YOUR MONSTROUS PREEMIE SELF THE MOMENT YOU CAME OUT!"

Over and over again, Wrecker's head hit the wall as his cries of anguish and pain were drowned out by his father's true nature as he removed him from the wall and smacked him with fire and fury, Mire, his guards and Wrecker's Mother watching with interest and joy at the deserved punishment.

"YOU FAILED OUR FARM! YOU LIED TO US! YOU DISRESPECTED US! AND YOU BROKE OUR FAMILY APART WITH YOUR SELFISHNESS!"

One final smack…

And Wrecker was trembling on the floor, his father staring down at him with nothing but disgust and rage. Calming down, he let out his most painful blow yet, using only 10 words:

"You're a Wrecker, son. And that's all you'll ever be."

Wrecker dared not look up, lest he scream and cry like a child, but he was scooped up like one by Mire, who, taking out his knife, grinned with glee.

"He can be beaten, I see! Good! It shouldn't take long to break his spirit!"

He then removed his blade and began to draw blood from Wrecker's face, almost licking the knife as he said "We'll make a fine slave of you yet!"

Soldiers all around him, a disapproving family, and the most dangerous and powerful toad in the whole world; Normally, Wrecker would have given up, and convinced himself he had earned all this.

But as he looked up for once, the shadows all around him dispersed just for a second, and he saw outside the window…

Fire. Destruction. Death.

Then he looked at his hands.

He thought of Mrs. Croaker.

And he clenched them.

"Sorry… But I see things a little differently."

Before Mire or his guards could react, Wrecker hopped the hardest he could and he bounded out of the window, before launching into the fastest sprint Wartwood had ever seen.

"GET HIM!", Mire screamed, furious at this insolence, and he and his men rushed out to get Wrecker, bows and arrows now being equipped and prepared to use.

Faster and faster Wrecker's legs went as he ran and hopped from one place to the next. Past the coffee shop, past the bakery, past town hall. And every building and house he passed were on fire, and every friend and neighbor he hopped past was being beaten or chased or sometimes even killed.

But they all fought back; Mr. Flour threw loaves of bread at the oppressors, Mrs. Sundew and her daughter who gazed worryingly at Wrecker subdued their attacker with the chairs in the café, and Mayor Hopkins himself fended off guard after guard to allow the children to escape.

Wrecker kept hopping, taking sharp turns and going unexpected directions, managing to lose Mire and his men, but his heart was hurting: They were fighting and he was running. Even now, he contributed nothing.

And the screams of pain and anguish and the cries of fear and sorrow and the flames that licked at his feet were overloading him with guilt as he hopped faster and faster, shaking his head and trying to forget what his parents had just done, trying to forget what future he had if he failed to escape.

But…

Did he deserve to escape?

Why else had these invaders come? Surely only for him! Had they attacked the village in retribution for his insolence? Sure, there was a fire before, but Wrecker was always wrong about one thing or another. Had his selfish desire to be free doomed the rest of the village?

Was he the oppressor here?

His thoughts and hops were soon interrupted though, as he leapt to the wrong area and was met with two furious toad guards.

"There he is!", they shouted, and the first guard knocked Wrecker to the ground while the second one held aloft his sword, ready to end his sordid existence.

Wrecker thought of escaping, but guilt and shame consumed him once more, and as he saw the sword glint, he wondered if perhaps everyone's suffering would end if he ended.

And so, he closed his eyes and welcomed death, praying it would spare his friends.

But just before the sword could strike…

CLANG!

Sword met sword, Frog met Toad, and Wrecker's eyes met…

"Mrs. Croaker?"

Clad in a black hood, with a ferocity and rage never before seen on her face, Sadie Croaker began to fight the two toads off from Wrecker, as he kneeled behind her and tried to digest the situation.

The two toad guards were strong, burly men, able to sustain much damage and bruising, but they were not nearly as smart or resourceful, and definitely not as fast as Mrs. Croaker, who outmatched them in every area, her sword slashing and thrashing the toads down until they were gasping for breath.

A kick to the chest here, a fist to the temple there, and an arm or two cut off, and the toads had no hope against the force of nature that was Sadie Croaker.

Disarming both easily, she stood protectively over Wrecker as he stared in awe. Mrs. Croaker winked at the young man before returning her gaze to the monsters before her.

"Leave this place now, or you'll wish your captain dealt with you."

Her threat was laced with malice and intent, and the two terrified toads ran off before they could be killed by the middle aged woman.

Turning around, Croaker picked Wrecker up, and the two stared at the burning Wartwood, the burning houses sending a chill down Wrecker's spine despite their warmth.

"…This is my fault.", he stated, ashamed.

"Nonsense. It is Mire's fault. It is Toad Tower's fault.", Croaker replied.

Wrecker disagreed and held himself in sadness and panic. "I should have just let them enslave me."

"They attacked before they even entered your house. And if it wasn't for them, I would have shown your parents what they deserve.", Croaker remarked with venom in her words, and after muttering something about "Telling Lillypad to hide that thing", she turned to Wrecker and suddenly embraced him with all her heart.

"And you deserve nothing of the sort."

Her hug was not only loving; Wrecker actually felt her cry on his shoulder as she caressed him, and it was that showing of emotion, it was her kisses and hair strokes that made Wrecker burst into tears as well, the reality of it all truly setting in.

"…What am I gonna do, Mrs. Croaker? If they find me, they'll enslave me! And if my parents find me…"

Mrs. Croaker scratched her chin in worry, she knew she couldn't save him from his parents or from the guards by taking him in. She didn't have enough money to run away with him, and even if he wasn't wanted as a slave anymore (and knowing Muck, he would focus his efforts on other things), Wrecker would never be able to survive out there with the rampant gangs and crime lords. If the boy was to survive, he'd need to learn a skill set and master it enough to gain a steady living. But for that he'd have to go to college, and that would cost more money than he had…

CLICK!

A smile spread on Mrs. Croaker's face as she realized that she had the ace in the hole.

Turning to Wrecker, she remembered something he had once done so many years ago…

And soon Wrecker's palm held a handbag filled to the brim with cash, and his face held a perpetual expression of shock as Mrs. Croaker explained the plan.

"Once you get there, tell them that this is your entire tution fee covered by yours truly, and they'll take it, it's money, they would never say no. Then, take the course that fits you best (and take a job at the same time, to rack up some backup cash) and by the time you've graduated you'll be living comfortably somewhere else, like Marsh Pond or Lakeborough!"

Wrecker was speechless, but not for long. He wouldn't do that to Mrs. Croaker. Eyes barely able to hide the tears, Wrecker stuttered. "Mrs. Croaker, I've bothered you enough, I can't do this!"

Mrs. Croaker insisted, shaking her head and looking back to see if anyone was approaching them. "Of course you can! It's about time you did what your parents never did, and took care of yourself! You deserve a good life, and this is the key to it!"

Wrecker wanted to run, he wanted to be happy, but he couldn't see Mrs. Croaker lose her once chance at true happiness. Sobbing, he almost shook her as he cried out "But Mrs. Croaker! You'll never see your daughter again!"

"No, but I will see my son smile."

Wrecker's heart nearly stopped and he slowly internalized that showing of affection. Was…

Was this love?

Slowly but surely, he took the purse back and, deciding to follow her advice, he thought of himself. "All right… I'll… I'll do it. I'll live."

Lip trembling, he asked one last question. "But… But what about you? How could I ever repay you?"

And that's when Mrs. Croaker smiled softly and brought their relationship full circle.

"Your smile is payment enough."

Never in his life had Wrecker been happier then when he suddenly embraced Mrs. Croaker, and, tearfully vowed her he would succeed. "I promise you, Mrs. Croaker! I will go to college and make a name out of myself! I won't let you down!"

He was so happy, he actually began to hop up and down, as he once had so many years ago, before suddenly noticing the proud smile on Mrs. Croaker's face.

"…What?", Wrecker asked.

"…Nothing.", Mrs. Croaker replied, whilst feeling everything…

Another tear shed from Wrecker's cheek as footsteps silently sounded behind him. A dark cloak descended from the sky and a figure he hadn't seen in 40 years seemed to be seated next to him.

"And despite all that… I still failed her.", Wrecker uttered, deeply in pain, nearly broken and shattered. The one person that loved him in the world, and he couldn't even succeed for her.

He was a failure.

"Well… I wouldn't say that.", the voice next to him said, and Wrecker, despite not having been aware of the presence next to him, turned his head melancholically next to him.

The figure then removed their hood, and Wrecker's heart nearly stopped, tears immediately fled from his eyes and a shocked but elated smile burst on his face.

"Mrs. Croaker?!", he exclaimed, almost deliriously, and he didn't know whether to hug her, beg for mercy, or both.

So he just sat there and stared at her with disbelief, shame and love as she sadly shook her head.

"Unfortunately not. This is Pall Forest after all."

The answer struck Wrecker and he looked down again with shame, closing his eyes and wishing they'd never open. "Of course. It's not like I deserved the real one."

"The forest's illusions can be good or bad. Perhaps it has decided to help you.", The vision of Mrs. Croaker encouraged, a comforting hand on Wrecker's shoulder, which he removed.

"Well, I don't deserve help. I don't deserve you. And I definitely don't deserve her."

Wrecker's reflection shifted into his father's, and it only shattered his heart further. He hugged himself, the weigh on his soul relentless and uncaring.

"Look at what I've done. At what I've become. After all my mistakes, I was sure I'd finally done my one good thing, but the mission wasn't over yet. And… And I wanted to do right by her. To guide her to a safe place. To make up for my existence. But I just hurt her, like my father hurt me. I fucked up, like I always do."

Looking at Mrs. Croaker, Wrecker tearfully condemned himself. "No matter what I do, I'll always be a wrecker."

He then began to sob quietly, Croaker's hand never leaving his shoulder. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I let her down."

Mrs. Croaker sighed, and her hand slipped into his, caressing the scars of battle yorn with the comforting touch he so sorely lacked. "The sins of our fathers cast long shadows, and it is up to us to decide: Will we be towered over by them… Or cast them off, and find our own legacy?"

Wrecker knew she was right, but it didn't change anything. "Well then clearly I failed, because the poor kid's alone and heartbroken because of me."

"Then fix it."

"Easier said than done.", Wrecker almost chuckled sadly.

"But not impossible. Especially not for someone with a heart like yours."

Wrecker struck the water with anger and frustration. "I don't get it! What makes you think I can change that? All I've done is hurt her!"

"You saved her multiple times, and before you fucked up you fed her and tried to make her happy. You're on the right path, you just need to correct your course.", Croaker smiled softly, but Wrecker shook his head once more and stood up in front of her, red cheeks and eyes meeting her violet ones.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

"Stop what?", she asked, and Wrecker finally confessed his guilt.

"Stop loving me! I don't deserve it! I don't care if I was nice to you, I didn't earn your love!"

Mrs. Croaker waited a moment…

And then she stood up and embraced the boy, who began to cry once more.

"Wrecker… I never loved you because you were nice to me… Or because I needed affection… Or anything like that. And I didn't expect you to love me for those reasons either."

She looked him in the eye, wiping his tears and calming him down with het soft touch. "You don't own me anything, and I don't feel this great obligation to do right by you, because caring for one another, especially for a child, is obvious."

A mentoring nod of the head drove the lesson in. "Loving you is a privilege, and not anything else."

Wrecker listened carefully, and he tried to adopt the words to heart, but still he couldn't forgive himself. "But I didn't do that, did I? How am I going to love the girl? I don't even love myself! I'll… I don't know how to not hurt her!"

Sitting down by the lake, Wrecker closed his eyes and sighed. Mrs. Croaker, knowing how to save him, stood behind him and asked a simple question.

"Tell me… Do you care for the child?"

Wrecker opened his eyes as he considered the question. Did he?

His mind immediately flashed moments: Annie's funny walk, Annie jumping on the trees, Annie's small smile as she handed him some soup, Annie talking to him about beetle jerky, about her friends, about the eternal hug. Annie promised she would give HIM that. Annie had made a daisy chain for HIM. Annie had avoided the subject of her village's death for HIM.

But more than all that: Wrecker remembered Annie's smile, and thought to himself how wonderful it was to see her just smile. To see her just be happy.

And it was, with no reason at all, extraordinary.

At that moment, Wrecker realized that even with all the reasons he had, he didn't need a reason: Something about Annie made him want to care for her no matter what.

And so he answered. "Yes. Yes I do."

And as the answer hit him, Wrecker clenched his fists, opened his eyes wide, and, heart swelling, he stood up and looked to the sky, imagining Annie's happiness, and wanting nothing more than to do right by her, for her.

Turning to Mrs. Croaker, he narrowed his eyes and nodded his head. "I need to go."

Mrs. Croaker beamed. "Go right ahead."

As he passed her, Wrecker looked back for just a moment, full of love for Croaker. "…Thank you." His eyes sparkled with gratitude.

"For what?", she asked.

"…For loving me.", he replied.

"It's a privilege, Wrecker. A privilege."

"So, here's the thing… I'm an idiot."

He shook his head, annoyed. "No, no! That's… Idiotic, I guess."

Wrecker sighed and tried again, as he stepped closer to the camp site. "Ok, look… My father was abusive and tried to sell me into slavery and… No, stop, you're making excuses!"

This was harder than it looked, Wrecker thought. He decided to say what came to his head. "Back in my day, we hated children, so I guess you could say I need to get with the times, because they are a changing WHAT THE FUCK AM I SAYING?"

Taking a deep breath, knowing that he had to do this for Annie, Wrecker reached into his heart and decided to show her his care, no matter how hard it was.

"…It doesn't matter why I was wrong. It doesn't matter why I behaved like a monster, I did. And I am truly sorry, because… Because you deserve better than that. I want you to be safe, but more than that: I want you to be happy. I want you to live and enjoy your life, and… And…"

His smile widened as he thought of her. "…I just want to do good by you. Because… Even though I haven't shown it… I DO care for you, A…"

But just as he finished his speech, he arrived at the camp site and saw that it was deserted.

Panic defined his first thoughts, certain that she was hurt, dead, or worse! He turned around in fright, searching everywhere for her, his eyes widening with terror as he called out for her. "Kid! Kid! Kid, please come out, I'm sorry!"

He almost began to hyperventilate, his heart pounding like a jackhammer, but his voice of reason tried to calm him down. "Well, maybe she's just gone on a walk. Yes, a walk! To clear her mind of my stupidity! I'm sure wherever she is, she'll come back soon, safe and…"

"AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"ROAAAAAAAAAAAAR!"

Wrecker stopped talking and he looked out to the distance, where the sound came from.

He panted.

He thought of Annie.

And, clenching his fists and narrowing his eyes, he charged down to where the sound came from.

(The Mudhorn – Ludwig Goransson)

"Let me go! Let me go!", Annie shouted and squirmed, trying her best to wiggle out of the monster's grip, but The Phantom Pall himself was not a beast to just be trifled with; Its obscenely large and wide body had a speed and agility one would not expect, and its blank reflective face sent a chill down Annie's spine, but she wasn't sure why, since its voice should have calmed her down immediately.

After all, it sounded like her father.

"What do you want with me? I'm not a threat to you, and I don't taste good! Believe me, I know!", Annie remarked, trying to get out of this sticky situation, but The Phantom Pall, rushing through the trees and bushes and branches with nary a scratch nor any damage done to the aforementioned things had an immediate reply that cut her down harder than any sword.

"What would anyone want with you? You are Annie Lilypad; and Annie Lilypad you shall remain to your dying breath!"

Annie read the Phantom's intent, and while it hurt her to be taken for no reason (weird a thing to feel bad about as that was, she admitted), she wasn't just going to go down without a fight.

So, as she failed to budge from the Phantom's tight as all hell grip, she decided to investigate and fight back. "For someone with my father's voice, you sure as hell don't feel like him!"

"For someone with your father's spirit, you sure as hell don't take after him!", it immediately retorted, and Annie again felt an odd pain in her heart. How come? She had no qualm with her father, what was this beast thinking taking his form?

"I'll have you know that if you're auditioning for a stage roll as my father, you're doing a lousy job!", Annie commented, before adding as she narrowly ducked a high branch with a yelp "And you also need to work on your impression! He said Heck, not Hell!"

"Oh, dear child: this is just dress rehearsal! My real target audience is still trying to catch up!"

Jeez, was she that needy for attention that not getting it from the shadow monster sucked? Annie wasn't sure if she felt sorry for herself or if she felt embarrassed by herself.

Whatever she felt, it was soon replaced with a feeling of intense pain as she smashed into a tree, a tree which she was then tied to by a crusty and old rope. As The Phantom made sure she was tied just right, Annie finally got her mind focused enough to realize who The Phantom was waiting for, and she made sure to tell it off for that. "If you think The Wrecker is gonna lose to some chump like you, you've got another thing coming!"

The Phantom just laughed at these words of challenge, evil spewing out of every syllable. "My dear, The Wrecker is about to face his greatest nightmare, the same as yours!"

"Which is?", Annie asked, getting a little fearful but refusing to back down, as she began to try and shimmie her hands enough to cut her binds.

The Phantom just grinned as he waited for his opponent to come due east. "A father's shadow…"

Annie suddenly realized what the Phantom's game was, and after momentarily internalizing her fears of not living up to her father, she remembered back to her conversation with Wrecker about the eternal hug from above…

And she got worried for his safety.

Looking up from her prison, Annie pleaded from The Phantom for mercy with a voice welcoming of her potential fate. "If you want to punish someone, punish me. It would be inamphibian to hurt him more."

But The Phantom ignored her tears and instead smirked. "Lucky I'm not an amphibian, then!"

It seemed as if The Phantom had the ace in the hole: Wrecker had only needed little pushes to stay in the dark. Killing him and sucking his life force when he himself would gladly voulentear that would be easy as pie!

But what it hadn't counted on was Wrecker's new found will to live.

And that perhaps deep down, Wrecker had the potential to heal and forgive himself.

Oh, and it also didn't count for Wrecker sneaking around and jumping from Westward.

SWOOSH! Through the air went Wrecker, landing on The Phantom's nose and slashing at its face with determined rage and anger.

"Lucky hit! Almost as lucky as your birth!", The Phantom cried, instantly transforming into Wrecker's father but with The Phantom's body and throwing him against a tree, which was destroyed entirely by the impact.

Wrecker was dazed by the attack, but he was soon up on his feet, an energy and urgency to him he had never had his entire life. He stood his ground, analyzing the situation, as The Phantom played its tricks, enjoying every moment of it.

"It makes me laugh to think that someone as accident prone and naïve as you actually thinks he could take on me! You could barely grow a lettuce, let alone fight your true superior!"

Wrecker waited for the right moment, and, noticing the beginning of a slide attack from The Phantom shape up, he readied his feet to hop over.

The Phantom, however, was less aware of the battle and more focused on the mental struggle. "I'm gonna kick you out of here, just like your family and college did!"

The Phantom than launched it sliding attack, grass and dirt flying up into the air and unintentionally blinding The Phantom momentarily, but that didn't stop it from seeing Wrecker dodge the attack with a single hop, looking down at the monster with utter determination as it slid under him in slow motion.

Crashing into a group of trees and destroying then entirely, outside of a splinter in its finger which should have been impossible, The Phantom stared with disbelief and irritation at The Wrecker, who was now breathing heavily but still staring at it with all his might.

The Phantom felt piercing pain, and it did not like it. "Whatever game you're playing, stand down now!"

Wrecker stood his ground, still staring down the apparition.

The Phantom was getting nervous; this didn't make sense, it had seen all the trauma and guilt embedded like rock in Wrecker's spirit, he should have been dead by now!

But Wrecker wasn't dead. Far from it, he was killing The Phantom with a mere glance and a firm stance. Just that act of independent defiance was making The Phantom nearly shriek with pain. What on Amphiba could possibly…

Suddenly, Wrecker let his glance down for a second, a split second where he stared at the girl with… Worry? Concern?

…Oh.

Oh this should be easy, then.

Grinning from ear to ear, The Phantom summoned all its power and, as it prepared to release an energy blast that would win the battle against Wrecker, it said "Oh… Don't tell me you actually think you can SAVE HER?!"

BLAST! Wrecker was distracted momentarily as his newest and most raw fear struck him through the thicket and into a hill top's peak, somehow only just failing to knock him unconscious. The blood flowing from his mouth was not a good sign though, and he could suddenly barely open his eyes, as The Phantom, laughing maniacally, sent lash after lash of psychological trauma at him.

"All your life you've failed to justify your measly existence! You think you can actually save her?! YOU CAN'T EVEN SAVE YOURSELF!"

Annie, who had finally freed herself from her bindings, screamed in terror and ran towards Wrecker, trying to think of how to take The Phantom down, as Wrecker suffered blow after blow of pain.

"YOU FAILED YOUR PARENTS! YOU FAILED YOUR FAMILY! YOU FAILED YOUR VILLAGE! AND YOU FAILED MRS. CROAKER! WHAT MAKES THIS CHILD DIFFERENT?! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN SAVE HER?!"

Wrecker was cast deeper and deeper in darkness, the shade over him almost making him want to give up as shame and guilt once more consumed him. How could he think that he could save Annie? How?

Annie wracked her head for a solution. How come Wrecker had managed to weaken it before, and why wasn't it happening now? As she thought, she found The Phantom's pained face familiar. Had she seen it before?

…Yes… Yes, she had! Before they had entered the forest! When she…

When she refused to bow down to it.

Eyes widening with realization, Annie cupped her mouth and screamed "Wrecker! You have to do what you did before! You have to cast off the shadow!"

The Phantom suddenly turned around to stop Annie, and as it did Wrecker heard her plan, and his eyes widened.

Mrs. Croaker… Before, near the lake…

The Phantom, growling, picked Annie up and began to choke the life out of her. "I've had quite enough of your insolence! It's bad enough you still live, but now you try to save him? What point is there for The Wrecker?!"

Suddenly, The Phantom dropped Annie and screamed in writhing pain, as his hands and face began to ignite and burn. "WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?!", it bellowed, and as it turned around…

Wrecker was staring down it again, slowly leaving its shadow, walking towards Annie and picking her up to see if she's ok. He was limping, clearly still suffering from his near death experience, yet he didn't even look back as he had eyes only for Annie.

Somehow, this caused intense pain for The Phantom, whose hands and feet began to melt. Panicking, The Phantom began to bite down on the grass as it got carried away by invisible forces into nothingness. "WHAT?! COME BACK HERE! YOU DARE NOT REPENT FOR YOUR SINS?!"

Wrecker kept ignoring, and The Phantom grew smaller and weaker, the searing pain peeling off its transparent form, and it began to desperately scream in a plea of hope. "YOU… YOU ARE A WRECKER! AND THAT'S ALL YOU'LL EVER BE!"

Wrecker didn't even hear, he was too busy checking Annie's hands for injury marks and wiping away her tears.

Realizing it would die soon, The Phantom let out one more scream of pain before leaving to lick its wounds, and Pall Forest turned silent and peaceful, a blue night sky illuminating Wrecker and Annie.

Annie was beyond shocked; after all that happened, Wrecker saved her life again, and she had somehow helped!

She actually felt sort of proud!

But…

Would Wrecker revert to his behavior from before? She guessed she couldn't blame him, as she looked down with shame. After all, she was a real burden, and not worth all the trou…

"Are you ok?"

Wrecker's voice was tired, exhausted, yet 100 percent genuine. It took Annie a minute to realize that he truly wanted to know if she was hurt and he wasn't just asking.

Breathing heavily, but surprisingly spared from pain, Annie nodded slowly. "Yes… I'm ok."

Her eyes blinked a little and her head nodded from fatigue, it was REALLY late and she was exhausted.

Suddenly, she couldn't see Wrecker's face, because instead she saw his back as he motioned her to get on it.

Annie would not be that selfish. "Wrecker, I can't piggyback ride you, you almost died!"

"It's a long walk out of the forest. You are way too tired to walk all that way. And you've suffered enough tonight."

Wrecker's words were, once more, the genuine article. He honestly sounded sort of… Sad.

As if…

Annie found it hard to believe anyone would care about her, but she WAS tired, so she reluctantly hoisted herself on his back as he carried her.

Beginning already to fall asleep, Annie had to get one thing off her chest: "I'm sorry."

Wrecker suddenly turned his head back to look at her, Annie's heart suddenly at ease. "…Don't. It's…"

He smiled, true happiness burning in his chest brightly as he saw her smile softly back and feel good. "…It's a privilege."

And for the rest of the night, Wrecker carried Annie on his back. And when he saw her sleep with a smile and look truly happy, Wrecker felt glad to be alive for the first time in years.

(Anakin's suffering – Samuel Kim)

Grime was feeling the worst he had ever felt in years.

Blood spewing from his wound, and dripping on the ground behind him, he could barely walk as he and the beetles reached a dark thicket that was empty and yet surrounded the toad. A heavy mist permeated the premises, and Grime could barely see, not that it mattered since his head was full of visions.

His eyes closed on the thicket and opened near a gravestone he knew all too well, but he shook his head, fighting the forest's spell.

"Hold on, beetles…", Grime called to them, failing to find them through the fog. His eyes widened with worry, and his stomach twisted with pain. He hadn't eaten in a day, yet it felt like weeks of starvation had been upon him. His knees shook as he leaned on what seemed to be a tree but was instead…

"The grave!", he declared and he averted his eyes. "Anywhere but there!", he called, but it was like he was magnetically drawn to it. It was the only thing he could make out right now in this horrible forest, this completely food barren hell scape of pain and suffering.

The gash in his chest still pulsated as he sat down near the grave, grief sticking to his mind like the grass sticking to his hands and knees. He wasn't sure if he should bow or not, all he knew was that he could not avoid the name on the grave for long.

"But I can't deal with this now! I have to get out of this forest!", he said, but the images danced in his head, and as he looked down his hands seemed smaller and the ground and skies seemed more familiar.

Somehow, he was back in Toad Tower, near the real grave.

Grime knew he was being fed an illusion, he knew that he was losing his mind from hunger and possibly blood loss but no amount of logic could stop him from finally reading the gravestone's inscription and once more coming to grips with the death of his mother.

Lily… Beloved Wife and Mother… Taken from us too soon…

It was like reading it for the first time, and the tears flowed down as they had that first time.

And maybe now it was the first time, since his father was now standing over him, a hand outstretched.

His father was always hard to read, but today was especially true of that statement: Was it grief or relief that coated his tired eyes? Melancholy or Merriness that echoed from his slow and sure steps? Longing or Good Riddance that dripped from his serenading speech?

Like his eyes, his ears seemed to see two pictures, present and past, mourning and triumph, and now even he was changing.

Grime looked up, the beetles still next to him but also looking a little fuzzy and different, and as Grime stared at his father his voice and words were of the past, while his wounds of the present stayed ever present.

"…I failed her…", Grime whispered, a painful shiver that almost made him want to throw up shaking his core, fresh tears falling on old dirt.

Grime's father continued to extend his hand and said "No… No you didn't."

Grime couldn't believe him, but he also couldn't comprehend his father lying, so a mix of necessity and hope combined into his following sentence. "…Ok…"

Grime suddenly embraced the grave stone, sobbing violently as he remembered his final embrace with his mother just 2 days ago. He had forgotten that his father might be responsible for the pain those frogs were feeling because he was in pain.

And that made him feel ever worse; how could he be so selfish, and think of how own grief when others suffered?

And yet, at the same time, he felt such anger, such rage at his mother's death. How had this happened? How did she die?

Father had refused to impart that information yet, so all Grime had were more and more tears, the forest trees sometimes returning to view. But Grime felt so confused, that he wasn't sure if he was in the past or not.

Blood kept gushing from his wound onto the grave stone though, and seering pangs of pain thanks to his hunger and grief made him wail with pain. How could he ever make it to Wrecker? How could he ever survive?

"If you want to continue on your path, you'll have to endure.", Muck commented, but Grime's knees were weak as he stood.

"I'm not strong like you or mother. I am not strong. I… I can't do this."

Muck was insistent, however, and he gave Grime a stick, that seemed to shift into a bow and arrow, and then back to a stick, and then so on and so forth. "The world will step on you, son. You must learn to be the one that steps on it, instead of vice versa."

Grime was unsure, and he conveyed it with words as the wind sent a chill down his spine. Did the Beetles always look like his pet heron? Did the gravestone always look like a tree stump? Where was he? Who was he? "I don't want to hurt anyone. I want to save them."

"Then you will be hurt, son. Like your mother was. Whoever killed her, whoever did this to her… Someone is to blame. You can't let that pass… Can you?"

His words made sense, and Grime's rage was seeping from his pores but he couldn't! He shouldn't! "I can't, father! There must be another way!"

Desperation echoed in his voice, he almost pleaded for there to be hope. "Please… I want to save the toads… I want to save the frogs…"

He bowed his head and cried. "I want… To save the ones I love."

Grime choked on his tears. "I want to be a hero."

Muck stared down at Grime with understanding…

And then he stepped towards him and turned him around, settling the bow in his hand. His hand was almost fatherly as he placed it on his shoulder and his voice was soothing as he instructed him. "Then… Right the wrong."

Out of nowhere, Alexander the Heron flew in, and he looked at Grime with pure love and affection, flapping its wings and squaking happily.

It walked up to Grime and nuzzled him, looking like the mother beetle for a moment.

"…Kill it.", Muck whispered, and Grime had a shudder of terror at both thoughts.

He shook his head. It didn't have to end this way. "No… No, they didn't do anything!"

"One failed to protect your mother, it's job in life… The other? Will make sure you don't starve to death before you save Wrecker."

Tears streaked down Grime's cheek, tears Alexander/Mother Beetle licked away. "I… I can't…", he panted heavily, hyperventilating almost. "I can't do that!"

"Then you will die.", Muck stated. "And you will die as you lived; a failure. You choose to do nothing, instead of step closer to your goals! How can you save your mother and Amphibia if you don't make the hard choices?!"

Grime sobbed heavily, his heart pounding, his fingers preparing to release the arrow but not wanting to.

"How can you be a hero if you don't fight the monsters?!"

Grime's vision was obscured with tears, as Alexander/The Mother Beetle whimpered at him, confused.

"How can you save anyone when you can't even save yourself?!"

Grime was angry, miserable, confused, conflicted and broken…

"I JUST WANT TO DO THE RIGHT THING!", he suddenly shouted.

"THEN KILL IT!", Muck screamed back, and…

Grime, tears in his eyes and blood on his hands, went down to his knees and closed his eyes in shame, as Alexander and The Mother Beetle died in his arms.

If this was the only way to save the world…

"…Then I don't know if I can…", Grime uttered.

Whatever the right answer was, one thing was true, as the beetle baby ran off:

Grime was utterly and truly alone, with a purpose he had no idea how to fulfill.

(The Everthere – Elbow)

"So, when do the fish bite?"

The lake was content and the breeze was soft as Wrecker and Annie, all fishing geared up, sat peacefully on the wooden bridge over Lake Silhouette, comfortably gone from the Pall Forest.

It had been a whole day since the fight against The Phantom, but one would have been forgiven if they had assumed that had never happened: Wrecker was whistling a tune Mellow had once whistled all those years ago at college, while Annie shook excitedly, having waited to fish her whole life.

They were both dipping their toes in the water and splashing softly, Wrecker sometimes chuckling when he splashed her and Annie giggling when she splashed him.

"Like, don't misunderstand, I can wait, I'm just curious!", Annie explained, sun shining off of her, a straw hat balanced lightly on her head.

Wrecker, also wearing a hat, sighed contently and smiled softly at her, his tone understanding and informative. "Fish can take hours to bite, if at all. Your patience might wear thin, so feel free to hop around a bit and enjoy yourself."

Scooching closer, Annie tipped her hat and grinned. "I'm already enjoying myself!"

Wrecker chuckled warmly again. "All right then! You're not gonna see me complain!"

"Oh, I'm sure I will soon enough! Is it still too hot?", Annie jested, but she did notice that Wrecker was suffering a bit from the sweltering heat.

But Wrecker didn't mind suffering for her. "Not one bit."

The journey to Swamp City would be a mostly comfortable one, so since the forest had been a painful experience, Wrecker had been trying his best to make it up to Annie for his wretched behavior: They had already purchased food in a farmer's market ("I can still cook better than these guys, but I guess this will do", he had joked, and she had laughed), sword practiced a bit ("I can barely sleep with your snoring, but I might get a wink in if ya can protect yourself"), and Wrecker had even volunteered to braid her hair when they had passed a clothes store in a market ("Gosh, I hadn't thought you could look prettier!").

It wasn't always easy, and Wrecker still found himself struggling with certain social cues, but every time Annie smiled he knew it was worth it.

So he could get heartstroke for all he cared: If she was happy, then… For once, he was happy too.

Leaning a bit back on the base of the bridge, Wrecker closed his eyes and calmly said "Why don't ya tell me a bit more about that stage play ya like? It sounded interesting!"

"Sure thing, T.W!", Annie said, before grimacing. "Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot you don't like that name."

Wrecker looked at her and shrugged softly. "I don't mind! It's kind of growing on me, actually."

Wrecker's voice was so warm with affection, Annie almost forgot that she was fishing…

And more importantly, that she had a bite.

Her line suddenly whirring, Annie was transfixed and Wrecker awoke with a start and excitedly cheered. "Kid, ya got one! Ya got one!"

He immediately offered his help, placing a guiding hand on hers. "Ok, so just guide it in slowly…"

"Hold on!", Annie suddenly said, before shrinking a bit as he stared down at her. "I… I wanna try on my own… If that's ok.", she said shyly. Would he get angry? She looked away in fright, but when she opened her eyes, Wrecker nodded in understanding and gave her space.

Annie breathed deeply. She focused her eyes. She really really wanted just once to do something right herself, and this was her chance, next to a frog she had grown to admire. Would she be able to impress him? Would she be able to impress herself?

Wrecker, already impressed, silently prayed (yet totally believed) that she would succeed as she slowly and surely began to reel the fish in, doing her best not to get jumpy or frightened. Using her natural strength, Annie had a lot more grip than one her age, so she was gaining good ground on the fish, who was fighting hard and fast.

Wrecker fought every urge to overstep and overprotect, hard as it was, and instead focused his energy on sending her positive vibes, as Annie stood up and reeled faster and faster, backing up to the bridge wall.

Water splashed everywhere, and Wrecker stood back too, just in case, as Annie grunted and strained with all her might.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaa I've almost got it!", she shouted, before suddenly finding a fish in her arms flapping all over the place.

Tears filled her eyes as she took a second to realize that SHE had done that, that SHE had won the day. But Annie was quickly celebrating her success, dancing a little on the bridge and jumping from foot to foot, squeeing.

"Way to go, kid!", Wrecker congratulated with a warm grin, but suddenly he stopped and stared as Annie was in her own world, without a care, smiling and dancing and semi singing, giggling from the fish in her hands.

Her hair bounced and her eyes sparkled and her soul was soaring as she just…

She was herself. In every single way.

Wrecker had never realized that a smile could mean so much…

But at that moment, he wanted to live. Just for a moment, he wanted to continue.

Smiling proudly, a heart full of love, Wrecker just stared until Annie noticed he was staring and asked "…What?"

And at that moment, Wrecker finally realized what love is, as he ruffled her hair and wished he could give her the universe, and she softly side hugged him and grinned.

"…Nothing… Annie…", Wrecker replied, whilst feeling everything.

END OF CHAPTER 2

POST CREDITS SCENE:

(Tsungi Horn – Jeremy Zuckerman)

"Hey… Wake up…"

Grime stirred, still unconscious, still hurt.

"Hey… Listen, I know you were in mournin or somethin', but it was just a beetle. Don't know why anyone would waste a good tasting carcass like that, but whatever floats your boat, I guess."

Grime's eyes fluttered open. Who was talking?

"Rise and shine, Mr. Toad!", the figure lifted the blanket, and Grime woke up to find himself in a miserable shack, with a stone for a bed, termite ridden furniture and holes instead of windows.

Shaking his head to comprehend what had happened, he saw a bowl of salad next to him and an unfamiliar face observing him from above.

Guilt and shame flooded back, as he remembered his most recent failure. Why wasn't he lying with the beetle? Why couldn't he have gone instead?

Sighing, the pain in his stomach still present if less powerful, and his gash gone, cause it was an illusion and nothing more, Grime looked at his host and asked him with dreading hope "Am I dead?"

"Worse.", The host replied, grinning with his golden teeth. "Yer in Swamp City…"