CHAPTER 68: A WOLF'S REGRETS

ME: Merry late Christmas and Happy late New Year, everyone! I wish you all the best of 2017, and hope the holidays treated you well!

BRICK: Where the hell have you been?

ME: Aww, did you miss me?

BRICK: Nope. Just wondering because you've left a lot of scenes that need to be written behind in the dust.

ME: What? I was busy!

BUTTERCUP: He's got a point, you know. It's like abandoning your responsibilities.

ME: BC, not you too!

BUTTERCUP: It's January 8th. You haven't updated since October 30th.

ME: I warned you guys! I said I was going to be busy with NaNoWriMo, didn't I? And I was!

BUTCH: Yeah, but you didn't update all of December either!

ME: I went back to China for winter break! I even went to Singapore and Thailand and got to see my older brother's newborn daughter!

BLOSSOM: Whoa, what?

ME: That's right! I'm an aunt now, you guys!

BUTTERCUP: Congrats, but I still want to see what happens next in the story. *pokes*

BUTCH: Yeah! You left us off on a goddamn cliff-hanger! Where BC kissed Ross!

ME: What, are you jealous?

BUTCH: *face reddens, yells* NO! I just want some closure! So get on with it!

ME: Sure, but you guys aren't actually appearing in this chapter. *troll face*

BUTCH: Wait, what!?

ME: Yeahhhhhh...anyway, on with the chapter!

BUTCH: Hey, wait a fucking second you—!

Chapter 68: A Wolf's Regrets

Humming to himself, Vix picked up flowers and bundled them together in one hand like a bouquet. The sun was shining down on him and the sky was clear; it was a great day for his first time outside all by himself in a long while.

Vix was glad he'd been saved by Damon and given a second chance at life. It had taken him forever to recover, but he was now fit to go outside unsupervised. It had taken some convincing, but he'd finally been allowed to go out without anyone else by his side. After all, he'd already been having tons of fun playing with the Rowdyruff Boys out in the field for the past month. Damon always reminded him to be cautious and not to be spotted by wanderers, but his adopted father wasn't very strict, which Vix greatly appreciated.

All the playing had really helped with his nightmares.

He hadn't dreamt of the burning car or his bleeding parents in a month now, and he was glad to leave it that way. He was finally starting to feel the burden of their deaths slide off his shoulders, and he felt like he could smile without feeling so guilty about the fact that he'd survived when they'd perished. It wasn't his fault they'd died in that fire; a fact that he'd been constantly reminding himself of since he'd awoken with his new Eye and new family. He was glad the guilt was finally beginning to fade.

Even at such a young age, Vix knew the pain and sadness would always linger, but he also knew his parents would've wanted him to be able to move on and live a normal, happy life.

Vix thought of all of this as he turned the daisies in his hand over, inspecting them. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and he was glad to be able to play outside. He wished the Rowdyruff Boys were there with him, but they'd been too busy to join him in training. Damon decided to give him the day off, letting him wander outside and play.

So that was why Vix was picking flowers. He figured he could give them to Damon when he got back home. He'd always loved flowers. They were so beautiful, but when they died, new flowers could be born from the old one. He'd always seen it as really amazing.

Vix had just picked the last daisy for his little bouquet and finished humming when he heard a crying noise. Startled, he froze. He knew Damon wouldn't want him approaching the noise, and he didn't want to disappoint his adopted father.

The sobbing continued, however, and Vix felt himself begin to give in to temptation. He had to check it out; he couldn't just leave whoever it was to cry in the woods all by themselves. He knew what it was like to feel sad and alone, after all, and what if the person crying was feeling the way he'd been feeling since his parents' death? They could be going through something similar to him and need the company—and the comfort.

So he gathered his flowers up in one hand and approached the noise carefully, sticking to the shadow and gliding through the grass like a silent wolf. He stopped when he saw the large oak tree. Below it was a girl. She wore a sunhat with a pretty pink ribbon, and was wearing a flowy dress. The top was yellow with a cute, white collar, and a white skirt and white Mary Janes. She was sitting awkwardly, rubbing at her eyes as she cried. "Hello?" he asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Jumping, she looked up and the tears seemed to suddenly come pouring out even quicker as her lip quivered. Then she let out a loud wail.

Vix jumped back. "What are you doing!?" he hissed, his ears irritated and ringing from the noise. He raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"My father says to always be wary of a stranger," she growled back. "And to never turn your back on one."

He scoffed. "I'm not a threat."

"Says who?" she countered. "My father says you can't just trust everyone you meet."

"Ha, do you always do what your father says?" he responded, now feeling more amused than annoyed.

Her eyes widened, and clearly offended, she shouted, "No!"

"Bet you do. Bet you're Daddy's Little Girl," he teased.

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, punching him. Hard. "I am not Daddy's Little Girl!"

"Ow!" He rubbed his arm. "What the heck!"

"Get this through your thick head; I'm not some damsel in distress or a pretty little princess. I'm not weak or helpless," she told him indignantly, head held high. "My mother and father have taught me tons of fighting and sword-training and survival and other stuff."

"Jeez, alright. If you're so high and mighty, why were you crying anyway?"

"I got attacked by these big bad wolves," she explained. "They were really scary."

He burst out laughing.

"What!? What's so funny!?" she demanded.

"Wolves? Wolves?" he repeated breathlessly. "Oh God, I find that really funny."

She frowned. "What is wrong with you? My mother says wolves are horrible creatures that deserve to be slaughtered."

Vix rolled his eyes. "Of course she does."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Everyone thinks wolves are the big bad guys even though we're—I mean they're—not! I just kind of relate to them, that's all."

"Well, that's dumb. Why would anyone want to relate to a big, smelly beast?"

"You mean a big, majestic creature," he corrected.

"I do not! They are so totally big and smelly and awful. Otherwise, what else could've attacked me?"

"I bet you made the whole thing up to give you an excuse for crying," he replied. "So you don't seem so weak."

She gasped. "What!? Are you stupid!?"

"I'm not stupid!" he snapped. "But hey, you're the one who said you can't trust strangers."

Before the girl could retort, a howl sounded.

Eyes suddenly wide, she drew closer to Vix. "Hear that? The wolves are coming!" She paused. "You smell gross."

"So do you." He shoved her away.

"Don't touch me!"

"Then don't get so close to me."

Glaring at each other, the two were about to start again until another howl sounded. The girl looked toward the source of the noise. "Well, if they're not wolves, then what are they?"

"They are very obviously 100% wolves," he responded, rolling his eyes impatiently.

"But you said—!"

"I know what I said!" he interrupted. "They aren't bad wolves; the wolves here are pretty docile if you know them well enough."

"Well, I don't know them," she scowled back.

"Hmm, point taken. Even if they did know you, I doubt they'd like you very much."

"What was that!?"

"Shhh!" He pressed a hand against her mouth, cocked his head, and listened.

Rustling sounded and out pounced a large creature with twisted horns and gleaming golden eyes. It had big claws and looked just like a wolf, but bigger. Smaller wolves were close behind, whimpering and howling, some in pain.

"That's the thing that attacked me!" the girl squeaked, her voice muffled by his hand.

His eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't sure if he was more shocked she'd been telling the truth, or the fact that this beast was here at all. The Rowdyruff Boys had battled this monster just last week, but they'd sent it packing back to Monster Aisle. He hadn't expected it to return.

The creature leaned forward and roared.

Vix jumped up, but the girl was frozen in place. "Come on!" he shouted. "Do you want to die!?"

"I-I can't move!" she cried back, eyes glued to the approaching beast.

Growling in frustration, he bent down. "Get on!"

She struggled on and he took off running, the monster not far behind them. He could feel its hot breath on the back of his feet. He ran until he saw a sturdy tree, which he immediately began attempting to climb. It was very, very difficult with a terrified, shrieking girl on his back who held on for dear life in fear of falling, but he managed to make it high enough for the monster not to be able to reach them.

It was roaring at them down below, swinging at the tree with its large paws. But finally, it jumped back down on all fours and began pacing around the tree, growling and hissing.

"You stay here," he told the scared girl on his back. He carefully dislodged himself from her and hopped down onto the monster's head. It crashed into the grass with an earsplitting howl of pain. Vix looked back up at the tree, where the girl was sitting. "See? That wasn't so bad, now was—"

"Watch out!" she shrieked.

He felt himself get knocked over, the creature that did so letting out a guttural roar. Vix rolled onto the grass, panting and his side throbbing with pain. He looked up. A second monster was circling around the first, growling with spittle around its mouth. It glared back at him, claws unsheathed and ready for attack. Vix groaned, letting his head flop back onto the grass.

As the second beast approached him and he figured he was done for, a loud cry sounded from above and the girl was suddenly flying through the air, holding onto a vine of ivy. She adjusted her position so that she was able to kick the creature in the face and send it flying into another tree, where it fell, writhing.

Panting, she let go of the vine and toppled ungracefully to the ground. She struggled upwards and limp-crawled towards him. "Are you okay?" she breathed.

"I-I'm fine." He sat up, groaning inwardly from the aching pain. "That was pretty cool of you," he admitted awkwardly.

Her eyes widened in surprise before she smiled. "Thanks; you were pretty cool too. Thanks for carrying me."

"No problem." He rubbed his head. "But why did I have to carry you in the first place? I thought you were big and strong, but you froze right on the spot and couldn't even walk."

She glowered at him. "Are you still going on about that!?"

"What's wrong with asking?" he countered. "I mean, yes your kick was really cool and totally saved me—thanks by the way—but why did you freeze? If your mother and father taught you so much, how the heck did they not teach you how to stay calm during a crisis?"

Her lip quivered, and he saw tears appearing in her eyes. He began panicking when—she burst out crying.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry," he said, feeling awkward and stupid. He hadn't approached a girl in months and could barely remember his last interaction with one. He did remember some of his friends claiming that girls were crybabies and sissies back in his old life when he'd still been going to school. He wondered if they were right.

She looked up, sniffling. "S-Sorry," she stammered. "I-I'm just r-really worried."

"Why?" he asked. The forest around them was hardly threatening. All the woodland creatures were absolute angels and Vix loved the atmosphere of serene beauty. How could this girl be so afraid of something so amazing? he wondered. Maybe girls really are just a bunch of scaredy-cats.

"I-I can't find my mom and dad," she explained, before glancing down at her leg. "And then there was that big bad wolf that came running by and knocked me over and fought me. I ended up hurting my ankle, which is why I froze and couldn't walk when we saw the monster. Plus the sun is burning me." She was still crying, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Vix softened, feeling bad for her. So she was kind of going through something similar to him after all. "Does it really, really hurt?" he asked.

She nodded as the tears continued.

"Alright, I think I can make it feel better. Here, let me," he offered, kneeling down beside her. She flinched and he paused, holding out a red handkerchief, wondering if she'd let him touch her. But eventually she did sit completely still, letting him wipe the wound before tying the handkerchief around her ankle. "There. Better?" he asked.

Looking grateful, she tried to stand up, but immediately fell back down with a little cry of pain. "It's still throbbing," she whimpered.

"This might be more serious than I thought," he responded, frowning in concern. Finally, he reached out and placed his hands on her ankle. She winced, but he closed his eyes and let the precious right eye Damon had given him turn white under his eyelid. He tried to transfer his healing properties to her, although he had no idea if it was working. At least he was healing his own wounds as well. When his eye returned to green, he opened them and looked at her. "How about now?"

She tested it out, gently applying pressure to her ankle. She still grimaced, but it looked like it didn't hurt as much anymore. So she nodded, sniffling. "Thank you," she mumbled with a small smile. "How'd you even do that?" she added incredulously.

"No problem," he answered with his own smile in return. "And never mind how I did it," he quickly said, before standing up. He held out his hand. "Here."

She took it and as he pulled her up, she stumbled forward further into Vix's arms. She blushed but he didn't notice.

"Now come on! I'll take you somewhere really fun," he promised, tugging her along.

As they walked, hand-in-hand, she gazed up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. She barely knew this boy, and while he'd been mean at first, he had also been really kind to her. He was warm and caring when he wasn't being a badmouthing jerk, and had helped her ankle feel better. He was very attractive too, with flaming red hair that reminded her of her mother, and green eyes like the fresh grass beneath their feet.

He stopped walking when they'd reached a creek, putting his bouquet down on a tree stump. He let go of her hand and turned around, grinning as he gestured wildly at the shimmery water. "Welcome to my home!" he exclaimed.

She wrinkled her nose. "Do you live in the river?" Her lips were twisted in an unimpressed way, before she brightened and asked, "Like a merman?" Her eyes sparkled hopefully.

He frowned, wondering why she wasn't marvelling at the water's beauty. "No, I live—" He paused as Damon's warnings about being careful popped back into his head. "I live nearby," he finished lamely, "but I love this place. I consider it part of my home."

"How odd," she said, and he wondered what was so odd about it. "I live in a big, fancy castle," she added proudly.

"Do not," he retorted hotly, feeling a little annoyed that she didn't appreciate his secret place. He wondered if she was stuck-up and spoiled, like some of the kids he'd known before his life had changed. He hoped not. He'd thought she was alright, but he couldn't stand the idea of someone who couldn't appreciate the beauty of nature and would rather brag or lie about riches.

"Do too." She pointed towards the woods again. "I live somewhere near the forest in a big castle. I get to live like a princess."

Vix snorted. "Sure thing, Princess."

She stomped her foot. "You don't believe me! It's true, you know!"

He decided he'd liked her a lot better when she'd been crying. He sat down on a rock and pulled at the dandelion at his feet. "No, because there's no such thing as princesses anymore."

"I do so live in a castle," she insisted. "And there are too princesses! What about the Queen of England and her daughters, hmmm?"

"They don't count!" he retorted.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

She sighed. "You boys are always so annoying."

"So are you sissy girls," he muttered, using a word he remembered his old friends using. He didn't quite know what it meant, but he knew it wasn't a good thing.

And judging by the way her face turned red, it was obvious he was right. "Girls are not sissies!" she yelled, startling a squirrel out of the grass and a few birds out of the trees.

"Be quiet!" he hissed. "You're scaring the animals!"

She paused, falling silent and suddenly very, very quiet. She watched as the squirrels and rabbits stopped scurrying away and looked up, sniffing the air, their ears and tails twitching. "Do you think they can hear me...?" she whispered.

Vix was surprised. She seemed to have completely forgotten about their argument from only moments before. "Yes," he murmured back, "they have very good hearing, duh."

She gave him an annoyed look but didn't say anything right away, still watching the animals. "I do live in a castle, but I'm not a princess," she finally admitted. He looked up in surprise as she kept talking, her gaze still on the creatures. "I wish I was a real princess though. Then I could talk and sing to animals really well."

"I can kind of talk to animals," he told her quietly. "I could show you if you want." He hoped he wouldn't regret this decision.

"Really?" she asked, eyes wide and sparkling with that same hope from before, when she'd thought he might be a merman.

When he nodded, she beamed, making his heart pound. So he ordered her to stay where she was and be very quiet, before stepping forward and starting to coax two rabbits nearby to come toward them. "Come on, you two. Come here, BunBun and Scavenger. Come here."

"Did you name them?" she questioned. "Are they your pets?"

"My friend named them," he explained, thinking of the purple Ruff Bandit Jojo. "He's really good at talking to animals. I think he named one of them after this girl he knows... I think he kind of likes her, although his face gets really red and he gets all mad if you ask him about it."

"Aww, that's so cute!" she squealed quietly.

He put a finger to his lips and she became silent again, watching with wide, excited eyes. The rabbits finally approached and sat down beside them, and he reached out to stroke their ears. He turned to her. "Okay, you can pet them too, but really gently, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, reaching out tentatively. They leaned into her hands and as she petted their fur, she turned to him and grinned excitedly.

He smiled back. "You can also sing to them if you want, but you have to be really quiet. They like singing."

"Oh my gosh I get to be a Disney princess!" she gasped in excitement, turning back to the bunnies. "Okay, bunnies—here's a song my mom and all the tutors she hired were teaching me." She opened her mouth and began singing softly, melodic notes pouring out of her lips, forming a song. As she sang, more animals gathered around them to listen until they had a little audience.

He wasn't surprised. Her song was captivating, after all. He could feel it pulling him into a dreamy state, like a beautiful spider's web on a lovely, sunny day when the sun was just rising and the sky was rose-pink. That web would be sparkling from the dew, and Vix could imagine running through the trees and whoosh! He was past the beautiful web, his feet pounding on the grass. He was free free free, like a wolf under the full moon. He could imagine kicking petals up into the crisp, clear night air as they danced in the wind and the moon glittered like a diamond above them. He could imagine every sound, every scent as he ran through the woods, so free and happy, just like her melody. He would run, never looking back, leaping and yelling and laughing and basking in Mother Nature's glory.

When she'd finished, Vix clapped quietly but eagerly as the animals chirped their cheers. "Wow, that was really good," he complimented, completely blown away by her performance.

"Thanks." She blushed slightly. "Mommy and Daddy have been getting me singing lessons since I was four."

"Well, it's really worth it because look, you got to be a Disney princess!" He pointed at the small crowd they'd managed to attract. "And not just pretend to be a Disney princess, you totally were one with that singing!"

She smiled back. "That's true! I'm glad I got to sing like a princess today. It was a lot of fun." Her face fell. "But I still don't know where Mommy and Daddy are and that scares me..."

"Hey, don't worry about it! They'll find you if you stay in one place," he promised, explaining a lesson Damon had once taught him just in case he and his adopted father ever got separated. "And if you stay with me, I'll protect you."

She giggled. "Okay! You can be my prince."

Vix clambered upwards onto his rock and extended his hand toward her. "Milady," he said with a slight British accent, trying to remember the Disney movies he'd loved watching as a kid. He bowed down towards her so that their gazes met. Her crystal water gaze sent shivers racing down his spine. "Shall we dance?"

"My good sir," she responded, curtsying politely, before taking his hand. "We shall."

The two held hands and began whirling around on the dewy grass. She did so with poise and grace, he noted, as if she had had a lot of practice with such things. He pulled her closer towards him, although he didn't know anything about waltzing. She mostly took the lead, guiding him along, but he didn't mind. It was a lot of fun as she taught him how to dance and move his feet and swirl around and around like swans gliding on water. And even though they were just two kids making make-believe, he truly felt as though he was a prince and she was his princess.

She did a twirl and stumbled, her ankle still clearly bothering her. Vix was quick to catch her though, and the two met eyes, wide and amazed. "Milady," he finally said breathlessly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thanks to you," she replied, gently pushing herself upwards. She nearly staggered again, so he steadied her with his arms. She placed a hand on his chest to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground. Then she pulled away and curtsied. "Thank you, kind sir."

"You're welcome," he responded, bowing politely.

That was when they decided to take a break from dancing and start singing instead. She took the lead again, starting the song. He joined in a little while after, matching her beat for beat as best as he could. Another small crowd of enthusiastic animals gathered around them, with birds joining in as the two would pet the smaller animals and sing their song.

A couple of bunnies hopped onto her lap and arms, clinging to her with curiosity. He stopped singing to burst out laughing, and she stopped too, grinning. "You have a pretty good singing voice," she offered, "even though you didn't have any training. It was really nice."

"Thanks." He smiled. "I appreciate it."

After that, they started playing make-believe, giggling and laughing. They trounced through the flowers and he pretended to slay dragons to save her from the clutches of the Fluff Monsters, which were really just a bunch of curious baby rabbits who wouldn't leave her alone. Then prince and princess held hands and sang some more and danced around a little bit more, before they went to slay the dragon together—which was really just a grumpy old owl that had settled down on a branch nearby.

After they'd chased it off, they collected their rewards: gems and gold, which were just flowers and rocks from the stream. As they collected beautiful, shiny, smooth pebbles, she grinned mischievously and proceeded to shove him into the water. He burst back upwards, spluttering as she rolled around on the bank, laughing. So he grinned and dove for her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her in.

She quickly jumped upwards out of the water. "I-It's f-f-freezing!" she cried, rubbing her arms.

"Now you know how I feel!" he responded, laughing.

"Meanie!" she responded, slapping the water and spraying him with it.

"Hey!" protested Vix, one eye closed as he laughed. He sprayed her right back, and they began splashing around, throwing water at each other. Vix couldn't remember laughing that much in a long, long time. He'd been slowly building up a friendship with the Ruffs, but with this girl, the fun had come swinging in full-force, and he couldn't help but laugh and smile.

Finally, as the sun climbed a little further down in the sky, they flopped onto the bank and watched as clouds drifted by. They would point and explain the shapes they saw, sometimes spinning stories out of those clouds. They would interrupt each other and add their own ideas to one another's stories, but neither of them minded the other's suggestions. Instead, they took it in stride.

"There! That one looks like a rabbit," she exclaimed, pointing upwards in the sky.

"You mean a Fluff Monster?" he teased.

She giggled. "Yeah, that."

"Ooh, I spy a dog!"

She squinted at the cloud he was pointing at. "I think it looks more like a pig trying to eat a human."

"Gross!" he laughed. "Maybe it's a vicious pig-dog!"

"Ewww," she replied, nudging him. "What about that one? It looks like a car."

He followed her gaze, his eyes widening. "...Yeah," he agreed quietly, "it kind of does."

"What's wrong?" she asked, clearly sensing something was off by his tone.

He sat up and buried his face in his arms. "Maybe it's a car that got in an accident and caught on fire and the parents lost their lives and their son lost his eye but was saved by a man."

"What...?" she asked, eyes wide. She reached for his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay...?"

"I-I'm fine." He wiped his watering eyes, willing himself to calm down.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing; it's—it's fine now," he lied. But it wasn't fine. He could feel old wounds opening again, tearing a gaping hole in his still-healing heart.

She hesitated before taking his hands in hers. "It's alright. I'm here for you."

He looked up, stunned. He barely even knew this girl, and yet she was offering him her help. "Thank you," he breathed. "But...why?"

She smiled. "This is to repay you for cheering me up earlier. It...meant a lot to me. I was really scared back there. Thank you for that, by the way."

"Ah, don't mention it." He swallowed, wiping his eyes. "I know how it feels to lose your parents."

She furrowed her brow but didn't press the issue. Instead, she turned around, letting go of his hands.

He stared at them, feeling a little disappointed for some reason, now that they had lost her warmth. I know cooties aren't real, but...is this what it's like? Is this what my friends meant when they said it's contagious? Like... Like getting sissy? I mean...I don't mind it. It feels...nice.

"Hey, I know what'll cheer you up!" she offered, jumping back into the stream. The water reached her legs, just beneath her skirt. She smiled mischievously, twirling around in the water. And as he watched, captivated, water droplets scattering through the air, she suddenly splashed water at him.

Spluttering, he rubbed his eyes. "What was that for!?" he cried.

"To keep your mind off the bad things, of course!" she called back.

"Cheeky girl," he responded, jumping after her into the water. He splashed her back. "Take this!"

"Ahhh! Watch it!" she giggled, fighting back with more waves.

As the two splashed around in the water again, he felt himself returning to his earlier mood of happiness. While she teased him and soaked him, he didn't mind as much as before. It was actually pretty fun.

"Prepare for my ultimate attack!" he exclaimed, throwing water at her.

"Oh no!" she gasped dramatically, taking a step back. "I've been—whoa!"

"Watch out!" he cried, splashing forward. He reached out and managed to wrap his arms around her before she hit the water and fell into it. Panting, the two stared at one another. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were wide. He was trying to catch his breath, his own eyes sparkling from the sun and water. "Are you okay?" he finally managed to ask.

"Y-Yes," she breathed. "I'm okay."

He gently let her body go, switching his hands to holding hers in order to help steady her. "Phew, good thing I caught you, eh, Clumsy?" he teased, smirking.

"Who you calling Clumsy?" she retorted, snorting as she kicked water at him lightly. "That was your fault!" Despite what an outsider may have thought, her eyes were glimmering with amusement and she was grinning.

"Nuh-uh!" he protested. "That was totally you, Clumsy—"

"Honey, where are you!?"

The two froze, hearing the voice of a woman ringing out throughout the forest. The girl reacted first, lighting up like a lightbulb. She dashed out of the water, gathering her skirt in her hands as she raced onto dry land and kicked on her shoes.

He followed more slowly, wondering what was going on. He paused. No way; are these her parents? Have they found her already? But no fair... We were having so much fun! I don't want to say goodbye just yet...

"Mother! Mother, I'm over here!" she called back, running forward.

A woman with flaming red hair appeared at the top of the hill, and she immediately brightened. "Oh my God, thank the stars! Christie, honey, you're okay!" Behind her was a blond man with ice-blue eyes that looked a lot like the girl.

"Your name is Christie?" Vix asked incredulously, jogging after her.

"Yeah, what did you think it was?" she responded over her shoulder, quickening her pace.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But ehh, I guess Christie fits you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It does kind of sound like 'Icky'," he smirked.

She nudged him, laughing. "Jerk."

"Icky," he countered.

She stuck her tongue out at him as they continued running.

As they neared the parents, the father's eyes darkened. He lifted up a sword from his side. "Halt! Who are you, following my daughter?"

Vix skidded to a stop, suddenly fearful. "I, umm—"

"He's my new friend! He helped make me feel better while looking for you," Christie said cheerfully, not sensing the sudden tension. She ran into her mother's arms.

Her father narrowed his eyes. "Are you now?" When Vix nodded, he continued: "Well, I will thank you for that."

The mother looked up from hugging her daughter, her own green eyes sparking like hungry flames. "But that scent... He's one of them."

Vix took a step back. He didn't like the way she said "them". She said it as if it were a bad thing, lip curled back with the smallest hint of disgust.

"I don't trust him," the mother said to the father, not even giving the boy a second glance. "Kill him."

Vix's eyes widened.

"What? Mom, Dad; no!" Christie cried in disbelief, her eyes also turning into saucers.

"Honey, it's okay. You don't have to watch." Her mother gathered her in her arms again, turning her head so that she was facing away from Vix.

"No! Don't hurt him!" she exclaimed, pulling away from her mother and looking at her new friend. "Watch out!" she cried.

He took more steps backward, suddenly terrified, eyes wide. He spun around, ready to run but—

The father was already in front of him, waiting for him with his sword held out. The tip of it grazed Vix's nose, a dangerous reminder that it wasn't just a harmless plaything.

"NO!" Christie struggled out of her mother's arms and began running toward Vix.

"Christie!?" her mom cried, clearly shocked. "What's gotten into you!?"

"I won't let you hurt him!" she called back.

Her father raised the sword and as Vix watched, wide-eyed, he brought the blade down.

Vix squeezed his eyes shut. But it never cut him. After two seconds had passed, he dared to open his eyes and—

They widened a second time.

Damon was standing in front of him, hands having caught the blade. Some blood dribbled down his palms, but if he was in pain, he didn't show it. His usually warm and kind brown eyes were hardened in a glare, but his face was hidden by his hood.

"Da—!" the boy gasped, but his adoptive father quickly glanced at him and did the slightest shake of his head. So Vix quickly corrected himself: "Dad!"

Damon looked at him in surprise. Vix hadn't called him "Dad" a lot yet in the month he'd been rescued. But it made both of them feel warm and whole, as if it were right.

Christie's father raised his head and sniffed. He curled his lip back just slightly. "You are also one of them."

Damon turned back to the other man. "I won't let you harm my son," he growled.

The girl's father frowned, staring down at Vix, who cowered behind his adopted father. Finally, he put the sword away and hissed, "Get out of my sight. If I see you two again I will end you."

"But dear—" the mother was saying.

"It's not worth it." Her husband moved away from Damon and gathered Christie up in his arms despite her protests. "Come now; we're going home."

Damon's eyes trailed after the man cautiously, distrust evident in his gaze.

"Bye," Christie whispered over her father's back, waving sadly.

"Bye," Vix whispered back, also waving halfheartedly.

When the family had disappeared over the hill, Damon turned back to his adopted son. "What were you thinking, interacting with strangers like that!? Do you have a death wish?" he demanded.

Vix flinched. "N-No, I just—she was so scared and lost and I helped her. I thought I could be her friend."

Damon relaxed, his gaze and voice softening as he sighed, "Oh, Vix... If only you knew." His brown eyes became like liquid chocolate, but the amount of sadness in them concerned Vix.

"What's wrong, Dad?" he asked.

The older man smiled sadly. "Never mind, son. Despite having almost gotten yourself killed today, I'm proud of you for having tried to build a friendship with her. But it's really not safe, and I want you to promise me to never ever try something so reckless again—without telling me or having a way to protect yourself—okay?"

"Okay," he confirmed, still feeling guilty that he'd disobeyed his father. "And...I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

"That's okay. You didn't know any better, and it really wasn't your fault they chose to be so cruel." Damon glanced down but noticed the boy's disappointed gaze, which was still trained on the ground. So he smiled and took his son's hand. "Come on; let's go home. I'll read you another story."

Vix brightened, his own hand tightening around Damon's. "Yes please! I'd really like that. And oh, I made you a bouquet! I left it at the creek on a tree stump..."

"Aww, thank you!" he replied, smiling. "Let's go and get it. We can make some flower crowns before going back for story-time."

"Yay! But this time, if we read 'Little Red Riding Hood', can we make the Big Bad Wolf a good wolf instead? I don't like how he's portrayed in that story. Can we rewrite it for today?"

Damon laughed. "Sure! Sounds like fun—but you have to remember that there's always good and bad wolves out there..."

"There's always good and bad wolves out there."

Vix awoke with a start, eyes flashing wide open as the memories began to fade. He let out a gasp, feeling disorientated and lost as sweat dripped down his skin. And yet, despite that, he felt oh-so-cold. He looked around wildly, wondering where he was. He had very little memory of what had happened to him...

His body was nearly laid bare, and he was dangling by many, many wires, all of which were attached to various parts of his body. He struggled against them but found their hold fast and unyielding, so he finally relented and simply hung there, panting.

He still had no idea where he was and what had happened to him, and the thought that he was someone's captive displeased him greatly. He groaned, closing his eyes.

He could just barely recall his dreams; they had been filled with his memories of a simpler time—when he was still a young little boy living with—

—Damon.

The realization made him freeze. He'd dreamt of his old caretaker. And Christie. He'd dreamt of Christie. He'd dreamt of the day he'd met her—not the day he'd met her after being captured by Danes, but their first official meeting—a meeting he'd pretty much forgotten due to growing up.

He strained his neck to see into the darkness that lay in front of him. There were other memories coming back now too: Damon had recently captured him...

Or had I come willingly? he wondered. His head was still fuzzy and he wasn't quite sure which was the truth. And Christie... He frowned, trying hard to recall. Where is she?

The image of the beautiful girl who had stolen his heart caused his chest to ache. He could just picture her perfect blond hair and bright turquoise eyes, as well as her gentle yet teasing smile and easy laugh. He loved her, and his heart longed to see her once more... To feel her in his arms; to hear her melodious voice again—even if it was to simply scold him; and to breathe in her cherry blossom scent.

What happened to her? he wondered, his head throbbing at the attempt to remember more than it could. What terms did we part on? Where is she? Is she safe? I hope to dear God that I didn't do anything to her...

Before he could think about it any further, he heard the door creak open and saw a silhouette step out toward him. He squinted against the sudden bright, harsh flash of light and attempted to make out the person's features.

"Ah, I see that you are finally awake," the voice rumbled.

He blinked, an uncharacteristic sense of fear lodging itself within his chest. "Damon...?" he whispered. "Is that really you?"

"The one and only," he replied, appearing in front of Vix. The two of them were separated by a glass panel, and the glaring light remained behind Damon, so the boy could barely make out his features. The man's face was shadowed, but the almost malicious smile on his face was clear.

"What...did you do to me?" he groaned.

"Nothing in particular," he replied. "I've simply kept you here in an attempt to...better you."

He wasn't sure he believed the man. "You aren't lying?"

"I'll leave that up to you to decide for yourself," he said, a smirk playing at his lips. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"I feel like I got hit by a truck," he replied, still panting. His hair fell in his eyes and his right eye was misting into white, looking for injuries to heal. "And everything hurts."

"Oh my dear, I am quite sorry to hear that!" gasped Damon, and Vix wondered if he was being mocking or not. "Well, perhaps it wasn't a physical injury that is hurting you so. Perhaps it has to do..." He paused, smiling slyly. "...With Christie?"

Vix's eyes flew open and his head shot upwards. "What are you implying?" he hissed.

He shook his head. "Nothing at all, my child. Unless...you wish for it to mean something."

"What did you do to her!?" he shouted, struggling against his bonds. "Where is she? Is she safe? What happened?"

The man held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa! Let's not get too hasty here. That's a lot of questions and I don't think I can answer all of them when they're in rapid-fire succession like that."

He pulled extra hard. "You better not have hurt her! Or I'm going to give you hell!"

Damon rubbed his ears. "You're giving me plenty hell already," he muttered.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!?" he shouted, his voice growing shrill.

He smiled simply. "Not what did I do to her, but rather what did you do to her," he responded.

Vix froze.

"Yes... Theeere's a good boy. Nice and quiet," he said.

He swallowed hard, looking up slowly. "What... What did I do to her?" he croaked out, disgusted with the possibilities that were running through his mind.

Damon smirked.

"So how did it go?"

He turned to face her. "How did what go?"

She frowned, folding her arms as she leaned against his locker. "Don't play dumb with me, DJ. How did the whole thing with Braker blow over?"

He smiled slightly. "Alright, Princess, you got me. I ended up leaving him a note and it went over fine."

"You mean he's not trying to kill you anymore?" She raised an eyebrow.

He laughed despite himself. "No, we've managed to patch things up pretty well."

"I'm surprised," she admitted, "but rather pleasantly."

"Gee, thanks, Prinny—"

She held up a hand and he paused. She added, "But I'm also rather proud of you, DJ. I know how hard it is to let things go and patch things up. Considering my past with the Powerpuff Girls, I can relate. But yeah, good job, DJ. I'm impressed."

His surprise faded and he smiled at his old friend rather warmly. "...Thanks, Princess."

"You're quite welcome," she responded, before continuing in a serious tone, "Now, onto other gravely important matters."

He blinked, wondering what on earth she could be referring to.

Seemingly sensing his cluelessness, she rolled her eyes and gently shoved him to turn him around, and then she pointed. "There! Look! Isn't he so, so cute? I'm just sad I don't even know his name!"

He gazed at the boy she was talking about, who was indeed rather attractive. The boy was lean, clearly used to exercise. He was just exiting the locker room, chatting with some other cheerleaders DJ recognized from Sydney's team. DJ turned back to Princess and smiled in amusement. "Why don't you just go talk to him?"

She gasped. "You can't just go up and casually approach a boy of that cuteness!" she exclaimed.

He burst out laughing. "Princess! You have a boyfriend! What would Mitch think?"

She pouted. "What? He doesn't exactly mind."

"Doesn't he?" DJ smiled teasingly. "Anybody who hardly knows you would assume that you don't love your boyfriend."

"Oh, no, no; Mitch is a cutie pie and I love him plenty. He's a good guy, but you got to admit that he's not exactly smoking hot," she giggled back, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

He laughed. "I guess so, but it seems a cruel fate, to be left behind by your own girlfriend like this."

"I told you, he doesn't really mind!" she laughed. "Stop making me sound like I'm totally horrible!"

Before he could reply, a new voice spoke out: "Hey, you two. You certainly sound like you're having fun."

Starting, he turned to meet the orange eyes of his former girlfriend. "Bliss!" he gasped.

"Oh... Oh my," Princess murmured. "I'll leave you two to it, then..." She was beginning to slowly back away.

Bliss nodded thankfully before turning to DJ. "So how did it go?" she inquired.

"Pretty well, actually," he replied. "Or rather, it ended pretty well."

She raised an eyebrow. "Did your attempts at making friendly peace with Braker really get somewhat better?"

He nodded, before chuckling. "Don't act so surprised, Bliss—or else I'd have to be offended by your lack of confidence in me!"

"I'm only a little surprised, is all," she replied. "So you actually took our conversation to heart?"

"I'll always be more than willing to listen to what you have to say," he vowed. "And that's a promise I have no intention of breaking."

She smiled slightly. "That's good, because I have every intention of using that to my advantage. Don't forget about our little deal!"

He groaned. "Oh, come on, Bliss! You can trust me. I'll deliver that secret to you on time; I swear."

"...I know you will." She smiled again, before turning away. "Thank you, DJ. For having been willing to make an effort to be friends...for me."

He glanced at her in surprise, before blushing and turning back to his locker. "I actually don't mind," he admitted. "He's...not so bad once you get to know him, I guess."

"Told ya so," she giggled, punching him lightly on the arm. "Braker and his brothers are good people."

"Heh, alright; I believe you," he responded, shutting his locker door.

"Good." She paused then, watching as he shifted the books in his arms. "I'm really glad you gave him a chance," she finally said.

He paused, before looking back at her and managing to smile. "Yeah... Me too."

Bliss smiled. "See? Making friends isn't such a bad thing after all, is it?"

"I never said it was," he replied cheekily, "just that with Braker it could be...a little questionable."

She giggled. "Oh, stop it, you. You've seen for yourself; he's not so bad."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. But I mostly made friends with him to see just how bad he really is," he said, grinning.

"Oh? And how bad is he really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not as bad as I expected, I'll give you that," he answered promptly. He paused then, suddenly turning serious. "Thanks, Bliss. For talking some sense into me and making me realize what a dick I was being."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're welcome."

He smiled at her. "You're a lovely girl, Bliss—and I'm glad I listened to you. Thanks for not 'bowing down to me' like so many others just because of my status. I really do like you, and I hope things work out...for the both of us."

"Yeah...me too," she murmured.

"Alright, well, I'll see you later then!" he chirped, now playful once more. He began walking off, before turning back to grin at her one last time. "See you around, doll!"

She waved briefly, before watching him disappear into the crowd, too distracted to reply properly. When he was gone, she looked down and clenched her hand into a fist, surprised at how fast her heart was beating. Why was it that after everything, he was still so charming?

She closed her eyes and sighed. Keep it together, Bliss—you're not going to turn a blind eye to his faults.

But it is pretty hard...especially when he can seem so..."perfect" in every other regard.

"Well, this is it then," his sister remarked, glancing at the time.

He nodded. "She'll be here in just a few more minutes."

Sure enough, those minutes passed and the doorbell rang. He jumped up from his seat on the couch, hurrying to the door and throwing it open. The sight before him was a welcome one, and his entire family gathered around him excitedly.

"Sophia! Carson! You're here!" his mother exclaimed eagerly, rushing forward to welcome them with open arms. She exchanged a brief hug with Sophia's father as she kissed the air in front of both of his cheeks. "It's so good to see you, my dears."

"It's great to be here," he replied, grinning. "It's been forever."

She nodded. "It has! And oh my goodness, look at how much little Sophia has grown! Last time I saw you, I could've sworn you were still a wee little lass!"

The black-haired girl smiled faintly. "I've grown a little," she said simply.

"Sidney, Sydney, Sarah, and Sally; say hello!" she urged. "And Sophia, Carson; do come in! Come in, come in!"

Sydney flipped her tan hair over her shoulder. "Hey," she greeted, nodding at Sophia as the girl stepped inside with her suitcase; her father followed suit, still chatting with the mother and father of Sidney.

"Hello," she said.

Sidney awkwardly stepped forward after his sister. "Hey... Long time no see," he mumbled shyly.

"Hi, Siddy." She smiled at him. "It's nice to see you again."

He had the briefest flashback to a girl with blond hair in pigtails and blue eyes calling him by the exact same nickname, and his heart ached.

"Huh, looks like this dumb nickname of yours existed since before I realized," Sydney remarked.

He blushed. "Sydney!" he admonished.

Sophia blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, what...?"

"Oh, nothing." He blushed. "It's just that I have a...friend who calls me Siddy and Sydney thinks it's a dumb nickname."

"Oh, sorry about that then," she responded.

"I wouldn't exactly call Bubbles just a friend," his sister stated, but a sharp jab shut her up.

Now Sophia looked awkward and uncomfortable. Sidney turned back to her and began apologizing profusely for his sister's careless behaviour. He glanced back at her. "And what do you have to say, Sydney?"

"I'm sorry," she finally muttered. "It's all in good fun."

Sophia blinked a few times, before smiling. "Looks like everything is still the same, huh?"

"What...?" Sydney blinked in surprise.

"You two are just as close to my memories as I remembered you," Sophia explained, giggling. "Neither of you have really changed; not that I mind. It's actually kind of refreshing. A lot is different now, but at least I know this is still the same place it's always been."

Sydney smiled slightly. "Yeah; you haven't changed much either. I like that. Glad you're still the same old." She held out her hand.

Sophia took it and shook it, smiling back. When they let go, she commented, "I am surprised neither of you recognized that nickname though. I used to call you that all the time as kids! It even caught on in our friend group."

"I guess it slipped my mind," Sidney replied shyly.

"Don't forget to show Sophia to her room!" his mother called, appearing by their side. "Sydney, why don't you help her get settled in?"

"Mom, I can't! I have soccer practice in fifteen minutes!"

"Oh shoot! It totally slipped my mind. Sidney, son; take Sophia to her room, okay? Help her get settled in." She turned to her husband and Sophia's father. "Sorry! I'll have to get my husband to show you your room. I have to drive Sydney to her soccer practice."

"That's fine," he said, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry about me; I know it's a bit of an inconvenience—"

"Nonsense! I'll be right back." She gestured for her daughter to hurry up, and Sydney grabbed her duffel bag and the two ladies rushed out the door.

"Is she still taking like, fifteen sports at once?" Sophia asked, picking up her backpack as she glanced at Sidney.

He grinned at her. "Sixteen, actually."

"Oops." She grinned back. "What's the new sport?"

"You won't believe this," he responded. "She took up curling. Curling!"

She burst out giggling. "I almost don't believe it!"

He watched as his father and hers walked up the stairs. "Oh, follow me. I'll show you to your room. It's close to mine."

"Sure," she said, reaching out to grab her suitcase.

"Oh, here! Let me get that for you." He took the handle and picked it up, carrying it up the stairs. He felt surprisingly at ease; his usual shyness absent. Maybe it was because he already knew her, or because she was almost as shy as he was.

"Your house still looks almost the same too," she remarked, before smiling. "I like that."

He blushed, even though she'd only complimented their home. "Yeah, we like the homey feel."

"And how are you?" she asked. "You've certainly grown. Are you still as shy as ever?"

His face reddened even further. "I am," he admitted. "It's a hard trait to drop."

"For me too!" she exclaimed. "So we're in the same boat."

He smiled. "You've grown too, Sophia."

"Yeah, I'm just not sure I've grown up though," she joked.

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, you at least look the part." He turned to smile at her. "You look really pretty today."

Her eyes widened and she blushed. "Oh, thanks, Sidney. You... You look pretty great yourself."

Now realizing the connotations attached to his remark, he blushed even more (if possible) and glanced away. "Thank you," he mumbled.

They continued on in silence until he stopped at the door and she crashed into him. She stumbled backwards and he turned quickly, apologizing for his clumsiness. "Sorry! Sorry, sorry," he cried as he helped her up, embarrassed and glad his twin sister wasn't there to witness his blunder.

"Don't worry about it," she said, smiling reassuringly. "I'm okay."

His face remained as red as a tomato as he opened the door and helped her in. "So this is your room! Not that you don't know it. You've slept here before, haven't you?"

"I have," she confirmed, nodding as she walked inside. She plopped her backpack down on the bed and sat down, looking around. "It's still as I remembered it! Almost the exact same."

"We don't change a lot," he confirmed.

"I like it," she said again, getting up to take her suitcase. "Don't worry about me; I can unpack by myself—"

"No, no; Mom will be pretty upset with me if I don't help you out," he joked, coming to stand beside her. "Just tell me what to do! I await your command."

"Okay." She smiled almost mischievously. "I dare you to walk out and go to your room and let me unpack by myself!"

"Sophia!"

"Just kidding!" She made a face. "Here, you can help me with my backpack. I have a few books and my laptop and some notebooks in there. Oh, and my camera. Please handle with care!"

"Will do," he replied, unzipping it and beginning to take things out of her bag. He recognized one of the notebooks she used to always carry with her. He paused, reminiscing briefly. Before he knew what he was doing, he was almost pulling it open—

"Whoa, whoa! Let's not do that now," she exclaimed, quickly taking it from him. She blushed. "I've got a lot of stuff in there."

"R-Right! Sorry, sorry," he said quickly, blushing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to invade; I was just washed over with nostalgia for a second."

"I can't fault you on that," she replied, her own cheeks a faint pink as she caressed the notebook. "But it really is quite personal. But maybe..." She hesitated, before adding, "Maybe I'll read you something sometime if I find something worthy. I've been working on a thing for a couple months now, and who knows? Maybe I'll perfect it soon."

"S-Sure," he stammered, before smiling shyly. "I'd like that."

She smiled back, setting it down as she began unfolding a few of her clothes. "So...let's talk. You've got all my stuff out?"

He nodded. "There's just one more bag left." He picked it up and something slipped out. He reached for it and held it up. "Oh, something dropped—"

She looked up and her face turned bright red. "That's... That's a new pair of panties I bought."

"O-Oh." He blinked, setting it down, before realization struck. "Oh! Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Again!" He blushed deeply, mortified. "I'm so so sorry. I keep inconveniencing you."

"Don't worry about it! I should've remembered I had that bag in there." She gathered the bag quickly. "Never mind that. All my stuff is out so you can keep me company instead—and help me with my clothes. No panties this time; I promise."

"Sure," he said, his face pink as he reached out to pick up a piece of clothing. It was a simple black dress with a faint pattern to it. He unfolded it and grabbed a clothes hanger from the closet nearby and hung it up. "I bet you'd look pretty cute in that," he offered shyly, wanting to make up for his blunders from earlier.

Her cheeks turned rosy. "Oh, thank you. Dad just bought it for me before we got here and insisted on me bringing it with me."

"It's not a bad idea. We're probably having a couple dinner parties after all," he agreed.

"True, true," she said, setting aside a black t-shirt. "Looking forward to it."

"Yeah, me too." He put down a blue shirt and glanced at the closet. "It's been quite awhile, huh?"

"It sure has. We were around what—twelve?—when I last saw you."

"Probably." He smiled. "Hey, how's about I take you out to see Sally and Sarah? They've grown even more since you last saw them."

"Oh, sure! I'd love to," Sophia exclaimed, looking up from her unpacking. "They were just cute, tiny little tots when I came here last."

"They're young kids now," he agreed. "Come on, I'll go take you to them. They're probably really curious about you right now."

"Sure; just let me put this away aaaand"—she put down a few more shirts—"I'm good!"

"Alright, follow me!" He turned around and set course for the door, stepping outside and calling out, "Sally! Sarah! Come say hi to Sophia."

At first no one responded. Sophia looked around. "Did they head off too?"

"No, they're around here somewhere. They can be just a little shy," he replied. He looked around, before spotting two little heads poking out from behind a wall across from him in the hallway. "Ah! There they are." He called, "Come on; don't be shy!"

"Seems kind of ironic for you to be telling them not to be shy," Sophia teased lightly.

He smiled. "It would seem so!"

The two little girls bounded forward, their shyness having been overcome for the moment.

Sidney bent down and took one of each of their hands, turning them to the black-haired teen standing behind him. "Sally, Sarah; do either of you remember Sophia Carson?"

They were quiet at first, staring up at her with wide eyes, until Sally spoke: "I do! I remember her!"

"No you don't!" Sarah protested.

"How would you know?"

"Because I don't remember her! And I'm telling the truth," she crowed.

"Just because you don't remember doesn't mean I don't!"

"But we're the same age!"

"So? I 100% totally remember her!"

"Girls, girls! Let's not fight now." Sidney looked up at Sophia with an exasperated smile. "Let's not make a bad first impression."

"It's alright." Sophia bent down and smiled at them. "I already have a first impression of you guys from many years ago, and I can promise you that it's a lovely one."

Sarah's eyes widened and she blushed, turning her head away slightly, while Sally's cheeks also reddened and she grinned shyly. "I like you!" she exclaimed loudly.

"Sally!" cried Sarah, looking mortified.

Sophia grinned, looking up at Sidney, who was smiling back at her, both of them feeling amused. She turned back to the two younger twins. "I like you too!"

Sidney pointed down the stairs. "How's about we go outside and play for awhile, girls?"

"Yeah!" Sally shouted, already running down the stairs. "Race you!"

"No fair! You're cheating!" yelled Sarah, haring after her sister.

Sidney shrugged helplessly at Sophia, smiling sheepishly.

She just grinned back. "Last time I checked, it's still a race!" she exclaimed, jumping over the railing and down the stairs.

"Wait, wait!" he called after her. "Hey!"

"Last one down is a rotten egg!" she simply responded over her shoulder.

He pushed some extra energy into his legs and began running even faster, pumping his arms harder. He began catching up and even began overtaking her. "Who's the rotten egg now?" he shouted.

"You!" she exclaimed, nudging him gently—but the nudge was enough to stop him in his tracks and to cause her to trip over his foot. The two of them tumbled out the door, stumbling down the steps as they almost fell to the ground.

Sally and Sarah were waiting at the foot of the steps, and they squealed excitedly as their older brother and his friend tumbled outside and they had to jump out of the way. They watched the two teens fall onto the grass, suddenly overtaken by an awkward, embarrassed silence.

Then Sally and Sarah burst out laughing, and Sidney turned to Sophia with another sheepish smile. "Sorry?" he offered.

She grinned, giggling as she responded, "It's all good!" She paused. "Mostly because I think you were still the rotten egg after all," she added teasingly.

"Yeah, you lost, Sidney!" exclaimed Sally, jumping up and joining her brother. "You lost!"

"Did I actually, or are you just taking her side to spite me?" he teased softly.

"Nuh-uh! You lost!" She tugged on his sleeve. "Come on, I wanna play soccer! Like Sydney does!"

"Your sisters sure are a handful," Sophia stated playfully.

He smiled. "You don't know the half of it. But I don't mind. I'm usually the one who ends up taking care of them anyway."

"Sounds like a tough job," she laughed.

"Soccer! Soccer!" Sally called, kicking around the ball.

"Okay, okay," he called back. "Let's start. How do you guys want to play? We can have one goalie and one defense/offense player for each team..."

"I want Sophia on my team!" Sally declared.

"Hey!" Sarah cried. "No fair!"

"Does no one want me?" Sidney joked.

"I want you," Sophia offered, before blushing as she realized the connotation to her words. "Wait, I'm sorry; that came out wrong. I meant that I'd love to have you on my team, but that would be unfair to your sisters, given our size." She stopped rambling to look down, embarrassed.

He was blushing too. "N-No worries; I-I got the meaning."

"Are you two going to kiss?" Sarah asked abruptly.

"SARAH!" cried Sidney, his face completely red in horror.

"Kiss! Kiss!" she chanted.

Sophia covered her face with her hands. "I'll join Sally's team then, and we can begin playing..." she was mumbling through her fingers.

"S-Sure," he agreed, briefly wondering if this awkward romantic tension had always been there whenever the two of them had hung out together as kids. "You know," he said to Sophia as they were setting up for their little soccer match, "you're actually a lot less shy than I remembered."

She blushed, looking down. "I-I'm still shy; I've just had a chance to grow a lot. And right now, I feel pretty...comfortable around you. I usually have." She hesitated then. "Do you... Do you like me the way I am now then?"

"Sure I do!" he reassured her. "Sorry if I sounded like I didn't."

"No worries," she replied softly. "Y-You know, you seem to be less shy too."

"I do?" He blinked in surprise. "I-I guess I haven't been able to tell." He paused then. "I mean, I'm also pretty comfortable around you right now too. But I really can't tell."

She smiled at him. "Trust me; I would know."

He blinked some more in even more surprise, and she blushed again.

"Not that I'm stalking you! I just meant that since I didn't grow up with you, I can see and remember your differences a lot more," she explained.

"Oh, I see! Right, sorry. That's true though," he stated. "You probably have more perspective on this."

Just then, Sally came bursting into the garage. "What are you guys doing? What's taking so long? I wanna play!" she demanded.

"Sorry, sorry!" Sidney quickly apologized, hurrying to hoist up two nets and kick a soccer ball toward his little sister. "Here, we'll set up right away."

"Yay! Finally," she exclaimed, rushing out of the garage while kicking the ball along.

Sidney followed her, carrying the nets with relative ease as Sophia followed behind her.

"Do you need some help?" asked Sophia.

He shook his head. "I think I've got it. Don't worry about me."

"Alright, if you say so," she said, smiling slightly. "Mr. I'm so Big and Strong," she added in a small, joking whisper.

He glanced back at her and grinned. "It's true. I am a big, strong man," he joked playfully.

She giggled. "I don't doubt it."

They set up quickly and were soon all set to begin playing. "Match, start!" shouted Sally, suddenly racing forward.

"Cheat!" cried Sarah, running toward her sister and kicking the ball hard before Sally had the chance to.

"Hey!" she protested, spinning around.

Sophia leaned forward and kicked the ball toward their rivals' goal, calling out, "I've got it!"

"And I've got this!" Sidney exclaimed, catching the ball with two hands before it could fly into the net. He then drop-kicked it back into the air.

"Whoa! Nice kick!" Sophia said, jumping back to stop it from getting in their own goal.

He smiled. "Thanks; you're not so bad yourself!"

"Stop being friendly with each other!" Sally shouted, fighting for the ball against Sarah.

Sidney said sorry before stopping her from getting the ball into his own goal, apologizing again for doing so when he saw her angry expression.

They played around like this for quite some time, ending only when Sophia and Sidney both fell over from exhaustion, with his younger sisters protesting. "We're way too tired to keep going," Sophia explained breathlessly, lying on the grass as the two young girls danced around them.

When they turned to Sidney for confirmation, he nodded. "Sorry, girls."

"No fair!" Sarah exclaimed, but Sally didn't seem to mind as much anymore.

"Well, we still won anyway," she declared.

"Sidney!" Sarah cried. "Sally is being a jerk again!"

"She did win though," he began, but his sister protested.

"Nuh-uh! You so let them win! I know you. You play almost as good as Sydney even though you don't usually play. You don't lose!"

Sidney looked up as Sophia turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" she questioned.

He blushed. "N-No, well, that's—I-I—"

She held up her hand. "Don't answer that question. You may have or may not have let us win, but"—here she grinned—"a victory is still a victory, and I'll take it."

He breathed out a small sigh of relief. "You guys did win," he said earnestly.

She leaned forward with a smile, holding up one finger to hush him. "I'll accept it this once," she replied. "But only just this once, okay?"

He just smiled sheepishly.

The four of them trudged back inside and were greeted by Sydney, who'd just come home from soccer practice. "Yo," she greeted. "I was watching you guys play."

Sidney flushed bright red as his sister turned to him.

"You lost," she commented.

"Yeah, well... Uhh..."

She held up a hand. "Don't answer that just yet." She watched as Sophia ushered them into the kitchen because their mother was calling, promising cookies and other snacks. Once they disappeared, she turned back to her brother. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"What?" he said defensively.

"You can't just let a girl win because you like her."

"I did not let her win! And she's...she's a friend," he protested.

She raised an eyebrow. "Just a friend?" When he hesitated, Sydney snorted and muttered, "Alright, lover boy." She turned away, shaking her head. "Who would've thought my own brother would be such a player?" She glanced back pointedly, but before he could reply, she walked off.

Sidney frowned, embarrassed by his twin's remark as he followed her into the kitchen.

His mother looked up as they walked in. "There you two are! I've been calling you, you know."

"We know. We were right there." Sydney pointed back at the room next to them.

"If you could hear me, then you really should have hurried—"

"Sorry," she replied, not sounding very sorry. "I was too busy ignoring you so I could talk to Sidney, and for that, I apologize."

"Well, at least you're here now," she said, rolling her eyes. "Here, have some cookies. Freshly baked."

"By Dad, you mean. You've only been home for fifteen minutes," Sydney remarked, taking one and chomping down on it.

Her dad grinned as her mother's face reddened. "Sydney!" she admonished.

Sidney sat down beside Sophia and she turned to smile at him. "It must be weird hearing a name so similar to your own be said in scolding when you're not the one being scolded," she commented.

He nodded. "Yeah, it can be a little weird," he confirmed. "But you get used to it."

She turned quiet for a few moments, before asking in concern, "What did your sister want to talk to you about?"

He froze, choking on his cookie. "What?" he asked as he began coughing.

She patted him on the back. "I was just wondering what she wanted to say to you in private," she explained with a pink tinge to her cheeks. "Y-You don't have to tell me if it's personal..."

"No, no—it's okay." He swallowed it down with milk and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Nothing of importance. Just a question," he said quickly, without giving away any other details.

"Oh." She blinked, and it turned to awkward silence as she stared at her lap and he drank his milk, looking away from her. Finally, as the squeals of his younger sisters filled the room, Sophia said, "I just have one more question."

"Yeah?" he responded awkwardly, swallowing.

"Who's Bubbles?"

He almost spat out his milk right then and there, but instead he began coughing violently again.

She patted him on the back some more, saying shyly, "I mean, I know there's a Bubbles here in Townsville who's very famous, but...is it the same girl? Is she the one who...your sister doesn't really consider 'just a friend'?"

He swallowed hard, trying not to die from embarrassment. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice scratchy. "That would be the one."

"Oh... Oh, wow. I didn't know you were...in acquaintance with such a...famous person," she commented awkwardly.

He ducked his head. "Yeah," he mumbled.

And then the two descended into another awkward silence that lasted the rest of snack-time, with both of them just sipping at their milk and chewing at their cookies.

Meanwhile, Sydney watched with an eye-roll. My brother the player... The bumbling, idiotic player, that is.

Banana hadn't been expecting anyone while she was cleaning up the remnants of her and Bunny's project, so the opening of the textiles room door startled her. She jumped, dropping the fabrics in her hand as she whirled around and instinctively tried to cover up the things she'd just been putting away.

She was even more startled to see that the intruder was none other than Blaster himself.

His eyes were wide as he gazed at her, one hand still on the doorknob. "Banana," he breathed out.

"B-Blaster," she stammered, feeling her stomach drop. "Why are you here?"

"I..." He paused, looking unsure and nervous. "I'm sorry," he finally blurted out.

"What...?"

"I'm so sorry I didn't see your text last night." His face was flushed red now and she wondered if it was because he was remembering events from the night before that had probably kept him from her, or if he was just embarrassed about not seeing it in the first place. "I-I had things going on and I completely missed it. I'm so sorry."

"It's... It's okay," she said, looking down. A piece of black fabric with golden stripes was in her hand, and she inspected it as though it were the most interesting thing on Earth she'd ever seen.

"Except it's not okay," he cried, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He took another step toward her. "But...I'm here now. You... You can show me the thing you wanted me to see now—"

"No!"

He stopped in his tracks, startled by the harsh declination. "But—"

"Blaster, just...no. It's okay. I forgive you." She pushed a hand up her soft blond hair, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess inside her head—and her heart. "It... It was stupid anyway."

"What?"

"The thing. The thing I wanted to show you. It was stupid."

"Banana, no—"

"It's fine." She turned away from him, trying not to let her tears fall as she collected the items into a giant, careless pile. "I have to go now. So—So you should too."

"Where are you going?" he asked as she whirled around him and prepared to walk past him without another glance back. He grabbed her wrist when she didn't reply and was almost out the door. "Banana, wait!"

"I have to go throw something out," she mumbled, sniffling and hating herself for it.

"No, wait... Bansy..." The use of her old nickname only added salt to her wound. Her heart ached as he gently pulled her closer to him and lifted her face towards him. "Are you... Are you crying?" he asked, looking shocked.

She sniffed again, glancing away. "No," she managed to choke out.

"Bansy..." His tone softened, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She hated the pity in his gaze and his words. She hated how weak she was being. She hated how selfish she was. She hated all of it.

He reached out and brushed away her tears, causing her to flinch. "Why are you crying?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not—I'm not crying," she tried to say, although her voice cracked and it was so, so hard to get any of the words out.

"Yes you are. And there's nothing wrong with that." He brushed away more of her tears. "Except for why. Is it because of me?" His voice broke, sounding as if the very idea of him hurting her hurt him.

Her heart ached, and she ducked her head, away from his gentle hand. "I don't know," she mumbled out, wiping her own eyes. "I'm just being stupid."

"You are not just being stupid. You have a completely valid reason for being upset."

Do I really? she wondered.

"What was it that you wanted to show me, Bansy?" he prompted gently.

"Nothing. It's garbage." Her grip on the pile tightened.

"Banana, please," he begged, his voice soft and pained. "I don't want to hurt you any more."

"Once you let me throw this away, I'll be okay. I promise." She looked up, forcing herself to smile despite her tears. "See? I'm fine. I'm okay."

He stared back, his heart aching. He didn't want to force her to show him the things in her arms, but he knew it wouldn't make her feel better if he let her give up. Her smile was a million-dollar smile after all—it was a model's smile—but that was the problem: it was a model's smile. It was pretend.

"Blaster, I'll be fine; I promise—"

"You idiot," he said quietly.

She froze. "What...?"

"Why are you being such an idiot?" He walked toward her and grabbed her hands. "Banana, let me see them. I can't stand watching you hurt yourself any further."

"No—!"

As she tried to pull back, he grabbed the things and jumped backwards until he was across the room from her. He laid the things out, surprised by the quality of the fabric in his hands. He smoothed the items out and stared.

They were his.

Or rather, they weren't his, but they were his designs.

He looked up. Banana had turned her head away, her face red. She looked ashamed and embarrassed.

"These are my designs," he stated, before wanting to slap himself for the harsh tone. No shit, Captain Obvious.

She flinched. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice small.

"Designs I...I tried to throw away."

"Yes."

He stared at them again, before reaching out tentatively to feel them. They were so smooth—and yet they hardly seemed real. It was so odd, seeing designs he'd cast away as stupid suddenly come back in full, dazzling force, solid and present and real, despite them not feeling so.

And yet, somehow she'd managed to make the designs he'd written off as too ridiculous look beautiful. "This one is 'Hurt'," he said slowly, still amazed by their presence. "And this one is 'Pain'."

He swallowed hard as he looked down at the third design—perhaps arguably the most embarrassing and yet also the most beautiful. And that was because he'd modelled it after Banana. It took extra long to register, but the dress really did seem to glow. It was coloured in gold and white and yellow, sparkling. He remembered that he'd even chosen the cloth, having tacked on fabric patches that shimmered in the light. Sequins and glitter had adorned the page—and Banana had captured that perfectly with her finished creation.

The title was "Alpha Female".*

She was thinking back to the image as well as he gazed down at it, remembering her amazement when she'd first seen the design. The dress was form-fitting and covered in glitter. It had sequins at the top all the way to just above the knees. Then long, flowing material covered the legs with a somewhat transparent fabric. Fake fur lined the outfit, reminding Banana of how sometimes the Ruffs would wear fake fur. While Buttercup pointed out that the fur didn't work with the school uniform, it did work with the dress. It almost formed a coat with a tail. The design also had a parasol, built like the dress: golden top with sort of see-through edges, and lots of sequins.

She didn't reply.

"And this one..." He paused, his hand touching the second-most dazzling outfit of all. His eyes widened as more memories flooded back to him of when he'd been designing these clothes.

This last outfit was long, dark, and black, and the shoulders were studded with little golden spikes. A golden jagged line shaped like broken glass went down from the right shoulder to the very bottom of the dress, with embroidered lines made to resemble cracks. The dress itself was basically a jacket that one could zip up, and it was covered with golden sparkles—mostly around the stomach area and underneath the studded shoulders and on the collar and the edges (bottom of skirt and end of sleeves). There was a small, broken embroidered heart on the left side of the chest.

For some reason, his own chest felt pain, as if his heart were breaking like the title of this particular dress—but it was a beautiful sort of pain, one he wasn't sure was necessarily bad. He felt longing and nostalgic and wistful—he felt amazed.

He swallowed hard. "This one is 'Heartbreak'." He turned to look at her, waiting patiently for a response.

"Yes," she finally said softly.

He looked up again, the aching of his heart swelling until it threatened to consume him. "Banana..."

"I told you it was a stupid idea," she mumbled.

"No, it's not. It's... It's gorgeous." He swallowed hard. "I had written these off as garbage. I was going to throw them out and never give them a chance. But you...you turned them into something real. Something beautiful. The only question is..." He stared at her, wondering what she was going to say in reply. "Why?"

She didn't reply. Not at first.

So he decided to keep going: "I made these in a time where I was...feeling down." He gulped, afraid of admitting what was going to come next—but he needed to tell the truth. He needed to be honest so that she could be honest with him. "I made them because I was jealous."

She looked up.

"I was jealous," he repeated. "Of you and Michael."

"You... You were?"

"Yes! I thought it was obvious! Braker sure seemed to think so," he cried, his face burning.

"But why?" she asked, her face also flushed. "Did you... Did you want me? A-As your—?" She stopped herself, trailing off before she could finish the sentence.

His face reddened even further. "I don't know!" he admitted. "And that's the worst part of all. I don't know why I was jealous, but I just was. And it was terrible. I felt so envious and bitter I just—I needed to get it off my chest. So these designs were born."

"Is that why...all of the models look like me?" she asked quietly.

He hesitated, but he didn't plan on backing away from the truth. He'd come too far to just give up now. "Yes," he confirmed. "That's why."

She stared at her feet. "I had no idea," she finally stated.

The tenseness in his shoulders finally left him as he became loose, feeling defeated and lost. "I-I might have had feelings for you back then—I'm not sure anymore, but now...now I might have someone else in my life."

She knew he was referring to Christie. The memory of the beautiful blond girl was a stab to her heart. She swallowed. "Blaster, no—don't say that..."

He looked up in surprise. "Don't say what? That I have someone in my life now? But you...you have a boyfriend."

She looked away. She knew he was right, and yet the idea that he was going to be taken still pained her. "And is she your girlfriend now?"

"She might be." He hesitated. "She confessed, but I haven't given her a proper answer yet..." He was clearly thinking back to his memories with her—memories Banana had no access to.

"Do you... Do you love her?"

He couldn't reply at first. The words were stuck in his throat. He still wasn't completely sure, but he knew he wanted Christie to be happy. And he'd been kissed by her, and she'd come to him when Vix had hurt her, and he'd comforted her. She was kind and beautiful and sweet and strong and independent and smart and he thought she deserved so much happiness—was that close enough to love? He knew he cared about her, so—"I-I might," he finally managed to say. "I mean, I think I do. I must, given how much I care about her and want her to be happy."

Banana felt her heart slowly breaking in two, even though she knew Blaster was right: she had her own love. So why was she so unhappy? "Don't say any more," she pleaded, feeling desperate and defeated and unsure as to why.

"Banana, what's going on? Why—?"

And that was when she lost all control to that desolate, painful feeling. And because of it, she flew over to him and stopped in front of him.

He took a small step back, bumping into a desk. "Wait, is this going where I think it's going? Because that could be disastrous—"

"Shhh," she murmured, leaning in closer to him. The desolate feeling was still etched within her. "I just... I just want to know whether or not this is right."

He frowned, grabbing her arms gently as he gazed down at her with concern in his eyes. "Banana, I'm not sure you're okay. This—This is opening up a whole can of worms we might both regret opening. And I'm just not sure this is right."

"But don't you feel anything?" she asked almost desperately. She could almost sense it; there was definitely some form of tension in the air, and it crackled in the air around them almost like electricity. But she just wasn't sure if it was the kind she was looking for, or a tension of a different kind.

He hesitated in his reply to her question, and the pain caused by it was what prompted her to lift up her arms. She hesitated, before slowly placing them around his neck.

"Banana..." he murmured, his brow furrowed as he seemed to try and figure out his choices. He looked almost as confused as she felt.

Her heart was beating fast as she leaned in a little closer. Banana probably would've stayed that close for a little while longer and perhaps they would have ended up getting even closer—had it not been for the opening of the door and a voice calling out, "Banana, are you in here? I need to talk to you about—"

She didn't pull away fast enough.

Blaster was forcibly shoved away from her and the newcomer thrust themselves forward, yelling out, "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU SICK FUCK!?"

"Michael, wait!" she gasped, stumbling backwards.

Blaster crashed into the table behind them, and he jerked his head upwards with a glare. "What the hell, Michael!?"

"First you go after my sister, and now behind her back you're making moves on my girlfriend? You're disgusting!" he yelled, racing forward and grabbing Blaster by the collar. He slammed the other boy against the wall, a look of pure hatred coming over his face. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Try me!" he spat. "You don't even know what the fuck you're talking about!"

"What? The fact that you're basically cheating on my goddamn sister!?" Michael shouted back. "Tell me, you bastard, do you really love her—or are you just playing her?"

Blaster hesitated briefly, and that was all the indication Michael needed to start punching him.

"Michael, no!" Banana cried, trying to pull him off of the other boy.

"Stay out of this!" he snapped, shaking her off. "Let me handle this!"

She took a few steps backwards, startled by his harsh tone. She was too stunned to fight back, her heart racing at a thousand miles per hour. She wasn't sure what to do.

"You're sick!" Michael snarled at Blaster. "I never liked you, but I didn't know you were this disgusting! You're just using my sister and then your hitting on her brother's girlfriend? What kind of fucking disgusting creep are you!?"

Blaster blocked his attacks and snapped, "You didn't even give me a chance to answer!"

"I DIDN'T NEED AN ANSWER! I could tell just from your face just how little you truly care for Christie!" he declared.

"You don't know anything!" the yellow Ruff yelled back, his own temper flaring. "You're just an ignorant, temperamental beast!"

"Less so than you! And I saw what you were doing to my girlfriend!"

"Michael, stop it!" Banana shouted, coming to her senses. She raced forward and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him off of him.

"Just whose side are you on, anyway?" he demanded, whirling around to glower at her. "Let go of me!" He turned back to Blaster, kicking out with his legs. "Let me at him! He needs to pay for what he's done! I'll kill him! I'll—"

"ENOUGH!" She grabbed him, pulled him towards her, and slapped him across the face.

The room seemed to freeze.

He blinked, before slowly reaching up to touch his cheek, where the slap had left it red and stinging. "You...You just hit me," he finally said.

"M-Michael," Banana tried to say, but he glanced up and the look he gave her shut her up. The lack of his usual love, and the amount of disbelief in it, made her feel small and guilt-ridden. "I-I'm so sorry—"

"I'm trying to help you! This sick fuck was going to kiss you! How are you okay with that?" he interrupted, still looking like he didn't believe what had just passed.

"I didn't do anything!" Blaster began to protest. "I didn't start—" But then he turned and met eyes with Banana, and he stopped short. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear.

"What the hell happened? Is he telling the truth? He didn't... He wasn't the one who put his hands on you?" Michael demanded, whirling around to face her.

"I-I—" she began stammering, trying to figure out what to say. Blaster was staring back at her, his eyes wide. Somehow she knew that he wouldn't deny whatever she chose to say, no matter how untruthful it was.

But she wasn't going to do that. She was done hiding.

She was going to tell the truth.

So she straightened her back and managed to say, "Yes. He's being honest." Her resolve wavered somewhat as Michael's face fell, and his look of utter betrayal hit her. "I-I'm so sorry," she tried to say.

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head, seemingly in both disbelief and anger and pain and betrayal—and when he spoke, his voice broke. "I didn't think... I never thought you'd be the kind of person to do this—this kind of thing," he said, looking sad and disgusted.

"I didn't mean to! I didn't know what I was doing or what I was going to do. I don't... I just felt so—sad, and disappointed, I-I—" She stopped herself, realizing that to both of the boys before her, she now looked like a two-timing bitch. "I'm so, so sorry," she repeated desperately. "It was a horrible mistake. I never wanted to—"

"Banana, stop," Michael said, his voice broken and defeated. "I can't listen to this. And I thought—I thought I was the one being unfaithful because of a new friend—" He stopped himself, and she wondered what he was going to say.

"Banana, what's going on?" added her counterpart, furrowing his brow in concern. "You don't...feel anything for me? So why did you... What was with that whole thing back there then?"

"I-I don't know!" she cried. "I don't know what came over me. There was just this sense of loss, and I-I wanted to do something about it, and well..." She looked down, ashamed. "Well, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do; I just wanted to be close to you for that split second to see if there would be anything there. And it...it could have led to a kiss, or perhaps not."

He shook his head in disbelief. "So you used me? You were just trying to make yourself feel better and validated by my feelings for you? Michael's right—I never would've thought you were this kind of person. Are you so desperate for admiration that you need to kiss other boys just to keep them liking you?" He paused, hesitating. "I...I didn't even know if I liked you in that way in the first place, Banana. And yet, as soon as I move on, you decide to use my old feelings for you like...like this? It's... It's disgusting," he finished, his voice soft.

Banana felt like he'd just slapped her. She shrank back.

"I have someone in my life now, Bansy—and I-I think I love her." He turned to Michael. "Your sister's an amazing girl."

"I know," he croaked, still looking pained. "She's...She's perhaps the most amazing girl I know. And now perhaps the only one. I once would've said the same about my own girlfriend, but now..." He glanced at Banana, and she felt her heart start to split in two.

"Michael, no—please—"

"Or should I say..." He paused, tears beginning to fill his eyes. He turned away. "My ex-girlfriend."

Banana felt her whole world crash down at that exact moment.

And then someone knocked on the door. She spun around toward it, wanting to scream at them to leave, because she felt like she was about to break down into nothing.

But before she could do something she'd probably regret (or rather, another thing she'd probably regret, she thought bitterly), a girl stuck her head inside. "Is this the textiles room? I'm supposed to meet Michael in here; Smithers is with me as well—oh, there you are!" Her face brightened, and she walked inside. She had pretty tan hair and an attractive face.

Smithers entered the room with the straight face of a butler, bowing politely. "Master Michael Hawthorne."

He nodded at the man. "Hey, Smithy."

Banana felt her heart tighten with envy as she watched the girl walk to stand beside her former boyfriend. The girl even met gazes with Blaster, both of them sharing a knowing look that seemed to indicate that they already knew each other.

"This is Cassandra," Michael began, still sounding tired and defeated. "I-I was going to introduce you to her. She's a new girl I met at a party of my uncle's recently, and we became fast friends." He put strong emphasis on the word "friends". He met Banana's gaze with an almost accusing look.

"Hi! You're his girlfriend, right? The famous, gorgeous Banana Utonium?"

"I—"

"Actually, Cassie," he interrupted quietly, "she's my ex-girlfriend."

"I—oh." Her eyes widened. "Oh!" She turned to stare at Blaster with round eyes, and he shook his head quickly.

Michael seemed to miss the exchange. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I was worried I was being unfaithful by knowing her, and yet"—his voice cracked—"here you were, going to kiss another boy." Banana flinched as he continued with a shake of his head: "This day can't possibly get any worse."

Smithers' look of concern was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He picked up. "Hello? Yes... Yes, I safely escorted her to the school. We are still here; the limo is right outside. Yes, I am currently with him and Mistress Cassandra."

As the person on the other end spoke to him, Cassandra looked from Blaster to Banana to Michael, appearing lost. She gave the two boys a questioning glance, but the yellow Ruff shrugged almost helplessly, avoiding the gaze of his counterpart. Michael just shook his head.

Meanwhile, Smithers' eyes had grown wide. "No," he stated. "No way. It can't be. She... She's what?"

The whole room fell even more silent than it already was, as the pain in his voice caused the four other people to focus on him. Michael took a step forward. "Smithers, what's wrong? Who's it about?"

He held up his hand, an unusual action for a butler who was to obey their master, and the boy turned quiet. The other person spoke again and he said, "Yes... I will tell him. Thank you for letting me know and for trusting me, Master Danes."

"My uncle? What did he have to say?" Michael asked, his head snapping upwards.

Smithers hung up and turned back to him. "I'm so sorry, Master Michael. Christie... She..."

Everyone focused on him again, brought to attention by the girl's name. But Blaster and Michael were the ones who demanded more answers, their concern as clear as day.

"What happened to her!?"

"Where is she!?"

"Is she safe!?"

Smithers shook his head quickly. "Boys, please! Let me... Let me speak." He paused, gulping. "Christie—she's...she's gone."

The worlds of two other people crashed down at that exact moment, and Cassandra hurried forward to take the hand of one of those two, before giving it a reassuring squeeze. That person was Michael, and he was in complete and utter disbelief.

"No... It can't be..." His eyes were wide and tears were beginning to fall. "How could this happen...? Th-This can't be real—this is the worst fucking day of my life—!" His voice was breaking, and it was breaking off in desperate cries of blubbering incoherence.

"Michael—" Banana tried to say something reassuring, but Cassandra was already comforting him.

"Try to calm down," she urged softly. "It'll be okay. She's a strong girl, and we'll find her; I promise. I'll help you look for her, okay? I'm here for you." She hesitated only for a second before wrapping her arms around him. "It'll be okay."

"Thanks," he said, taking a deep breath. "At least... At least it can't get any worse—right?" But before anyone could answer, his own phone rang, and he picked up with tears. "Hello? Who is this?"

The voice on the other end spoke, and he stopped in his tracks, his eyes stretching wide. He swallowed hard as rage seemed to fill his gaze.

"Damon...?" he whispered.

The whole room froze once again, because everyone there recognized that name.

Banana remembered a man who'd held her and her sisters at gunpoint in his own home*, while Blaster and Cassandra remembered a benevolent man who'd turned insane. And Michael remembered a crazy madman who'd ruined the lives of so many people—including his own. And he'd done it once again.

"You...You bastard," he hissed when Damon was finished speaking. He said something else, and Michael shouted, "DON'T YOU DARE HURT HER! YOU HEAR ME!? Don't you dare..." He trailed off, his voice cracking and turning into a desperate plea. "Please... Don't hurt her."

Banana's super-hearing picked up on laughing from the other end and some other inaudible words before the man hung up. Michael lowered his hand slowly, his gaze blank and hollow.

"Michael...? Are you okay?" Cassandra asked.

He swallowed hard, his hands tightening around his phone and her hand. "I'll kill him," he finally whispered, his voice dark. "I'll fucking kill him."

Her eyes widened in fear. "No, wait!" She tugged on his hand. "Let's talk—"

"There's nothing to talk about!" he snapped. "I'll fucking murder him for this! He won't get away with this; I'll—"

"Michael, not here!" she hissed, glancing at Banana. It was a look the other girl didn't miss. Cassandra pulled him aside, out of the room, where the two of them bumped into one another. They stood so close that she could smell his minty cologne. "Don't do anything rash," she pleaded. "Let's try and figure this out first."

"He has my sister! That asshole—"

She reached out and took his face in her hands, staring into his eyes with a determined look. And when she spoke, her voice was firm. "Michael. Listen to me. I know it's hard, and your sister is missing, and she could be hurt, but please—don't let the rage take over you. Don't do anything rash."

"But Cassandra—" he tried to protest.

"I really like you," she said fiercely, interrupting him. "And I'm also beginning to care about you. So please don't do anything that will lead to you getting hurt as well!"

The ferocity of the look she gave him made him calm down, and his voice softened as he said, "Alright. I'll try not to do anything that'll kill me—just for you." He reached out and gently touched her face with the back of his hand, his gaze gentle and filled with affection. "You're a very sweet girl, Cassie, and I'm starting to care about you as well. So please—if I promise not to do anything rash, then promise me you won't get too involved, okay? Damon is a very, very dangerous man, and I don't want him to get to you as well."

She looked up at his turquoise eyes, noting how genuine they appeared. His words reminded her that he didn't know she was in fact part of the war and was actually quite familiar with Damon's reputation. But she had to keep it that way, so instead of correcting him, she simply said, "I will. I promise." Even though it hurt to lie to him—someone currently in so much pain—she knew she couldn't have him learn the truth. She swallowed. "Just as long as you stay safe too."

"And I will do as you ask as well," he promised firmly. He leaned forward and touched foreheads with her. "Thank you, Cassandra. For being so honest with me." He hesitated almost shyly. "I really... I just really appreciate it."

"You're...You're welcome," she replied meekly.

He smiled weakly at her, giving her hand a squeeze before pulling away. "Let's go back then. Don't want the others to suspect anything."

"Right." More than you could ever know. She followed him inside, not meeting the questioning gaze of Blaster. She watched Michael talk to Smithers, and she felt her heart, where it had turned to race at almost a thousand miles per hour. His touch had been so gentle, his voice so kind, and his gaze so affectionate—even though she knew better, Cassandra could feel her walls starting to tremble, wondering if they should lower themselves and open their doors for him.

She certainly wasn't being completely honest with him, but she hadn't been lying when she'd told him that she was starting to care for him.

And in some ways, that was almost as dangerous as confronting Damon himself.

*(A/N: Reference to chapter 46!)

ME: This chapter feels kind of short to me, but that might just be because I wrote that young Vix and Christie scene awhile ago.

BRICK: Cheater.

ME: Not really. I wrote it, so might as well use it! I actually wrote it for my friend's birthday, and I've been waiting to put it in. *winks*

BLOSSOM: Now you should get back to your studies.

ME: *sighs* Yeah, I know. It's been so stressful lately. This is such an important year, and this is a really important time.

BLOSSOM: Best of luck.

ME: Thanks—

BANANA: What the hell is with my scene this chapter!?

ME: *smirks* You get some drama, that's what!

BLASTER: Wow, that was pretty intense.

ME: It almost went a step further. *wiggles eyebrows* Imagine if I had made you kiss!

BANANA: *blushes* I'm not that kind of girl!

ME: I know; that's why I didn't do it.

CHRISTIE: Leave a review! The faster you do, the more likely she'll update, and the more likely I'll get free from being captured.

ME: That's the spirit!