Call of the Wolves Chapter 74: The Wolves Are Closing In, a powerpuff girls fanfic

CHAPTER 74: THE WOLVES ARE CLOSING IN

ME: I'm sorry this took so long! I wanted to get it done before school started and while classes haven't started yet, it's still later than I originally planned. A lot of stuff came up—unexpected change of plans to go back to China because of family issues, and also working on Camp NaNoWriMo during July—because I probably wouldn't have time to do the real NaNoWriMo during November when classes are still happening. And then after I came back I just did a lot of drawing instead. *sweat-drop*

BRICK: Excuses, excuses.

BUTCH: Yeah, you're supposed to update regularly!

ME: *raises eyebrow* Why are the people not interested in reading my story suddenly so upset about my slow updates?

BRICK: I-I don't care!

BUTCH: Well, I do. This story is meant to star me, after all. *pauses* Although…it does feel like this story has sort of shifted from me.

ME: And Buttercup!

BUTCH: *blushes* And…Buttercup.

ME: But yeah, the story has sort of shifted, huh? It just has to do with plot—plus I fell in love with my own characters more over time haha.

BLOSSOM: But don't forget to read on and review so that you can see more of all these characters!

Chapter 74: The Wolves Are Closing In

A cloud of smoke puffed up into the air as the man blew out, slowly moving the cigarette from his lips to ask, "So the young mistress is back, is she?"

"Yes." The maid standing before him remained bowed, her eyes closed.

He smiled, his golden eyes gleaming. "Thank you, Louisa. Dismissed."

She bowed a little lower, before exiting. He then spun his chair back around and stared out the window, continuing to blow out smoke rings.

He grinned. "Seems like as good a sign to start as any." Tapping the cigarette in the ashtray, he hummed softly to himself. "Let's go hunt us some wolves."

And the entire room became encased in smoke, wisps of it reaching out like the dark claws of a large bat.

Ross gently pulled his curly hair back from his face, trying not to feel the sleeplessness already catching up to him. "Damn," he sighed. "It's not even 1:00 yet and it already feels like it's been a long-ass day." He glanced at the clock on his wall. "And the Hawthornes want to throw that party for Christie as well…" He groaned softly, flopping down on his bed. "It's going to be an even longer day."

He glanced back at his father's journal, which was resting beside him. I'm happy Christie's back; really, I am, but another party so soon?

Tugging the journal closer toward him, he pulled it open and began reading again. It had become a daily habit to just open up to a random page and start reading a new entry in his father's life. This particular entry seemed to be from a much earlier point in Tyrone's life, when they were all still young adults.

"'I'm honestly exhausted. We've had so many parties so far, and this one seemed almost unnecessary. It was the 'quarter-anniversary' of Maggie and Chris' first meeting (really, who even celebrates quarter-anniversaries?) and Danes' mother quickly plotted this party with Maggie's parents…'"

Flashback

"Is the cake ready yet?" a woman with glasses perched on her nose demanded, her curly, styled hair flying out behind her as she clapped her hands. "Chop, chop, people!"

Tyrone watched the cooks scrambling in the kitchen, frowning as he turned back to his brother next to him. "I'll never understand why these events are such a big deal."

Shamus shrugged, dressed in a black suit with his shoulders back and back straight. He didn't reply.

Damon nudged Tyrone, also wearing a dark suit. His was closer to navy-blue than black. "The lovers don't seem to mind."

"Back straight." Danes shot Tyrone an annoyed look. "Wouldn't want my mother making a 'big deal' out of it, now would you?"

He snorted, but straightened his back accordingly. He glanced at the couple everyone was referring to.

Chris looked as calm and collected as ever. He'd grown taller than Maggie since hitting puberty, and had recently had new clothing tailored. This particular one was a blue vest that accentuated his ice-chip eyes. He was smiling a small smile, eyes hooded as he gazed down at Maggie. She was dressed elegantly in a slim-fitting red dress, her hair all done upwards in a fancy side-bun. She was chatting with Chris, and her face seemed flushed, a smile tugging at her lips as he leaned down to whisper something to her.

Damon followed his gaze. "I think they're falling more and more in love everyday," he remarked. "Maggie's really warmed up to him since their first meeting."

Tyrone nodded, his gaze softening as he smiled. "You know, I wish we could all be as lucky as Maggie and Chris."

"You mean you want a relationship thrown at you so you're forced to get to know them and get married to someone you may or may not even really know yet?"

The gang spun around and everyone grinned, with Tyrone's being sheepish and apologetic. "Sorry, DJ. I keep forgetting you're in the same situation—just not nearly as good."

"Don't be. You guys only learned about it a few days ago." The other man smiled back, a soft smile tinged with something more pained than joyful, and slipped his bag from his shoulder. He was dressed in a sharp black suit and had his hair combed back. "Besides…it was my own decision. I volunteered to marry her so that…" He glanced at Danes. "So that someone else wouldn't have to."

"DJ…" Danes took a step forward, taking hold of the other man's forearm and gently pulling him aside. He leaned in a little closer to whisper something in his ear, and when he pulled back, DJ was smiling a little brighter.

The dark-haired man turned back to the gang. "Has anyone seen my bride-to-be yet? Mio padre has requested I get to know her, now that everyone is…intermingling for the first time in forever."

Damon shook his head. "She and her family aren't here yet. But they should be soon."

Tyrone poked DJ in the shoulder. "I still can't believe you hid the fact that you were getting married for practically more than a month."

"Things were getting finalized," he replied, putting his hands up and smiling crookedly. "There wasn't much I could say."

"Yet Danes still knew about it before we did." Tyrone's lips stretched into a grin. "And we all wonder why."

The two men he was referring to glanced at each other, before glancing away, their cheeks warm.

"Okay, enough teasing." Damon swung his arm around DJ and smiled. "Let's make sure these next few months of non-marriage are memorable ones."

"Sure, Damie." DJ laughed. "I have no doubt you guys can certainly make my days memorable at least. But good? Not so much."

"Yeah, because we're going to make them amazing!" Tyrone plucked a few glasses from the butler walking past, who cast him a disgruntled look. Tyrone gave him an apologetic smile, and the butler returned to the kitchen to fetch more drinks. "To DJ and his freedom!" He distributed them amongst the gang, lifting his glass.

"To DJ and his freedom!" Shamus and Damon chorused, clinking their glasses together.

At the mention of freedom, DJ glanced down at his wrists, as if he were imagining shackles there.

Danes smiled slightly when the others turned to him, and he tapped his glass to theirs. He took a sip, before glancing at DJ, who was staring down into his own glass. "Something the matter?" he asked.

"Yeah, Danes. Something's the matter." DJ shot him a look.

"I mean, besides everything else. You know what I mean." He cleared his throat.

He smiled then, his gaze softening. "I know. And I appreciate all that you've been doing for me." He pulled in, whispering, "I'm just nervous."

"You? Nervous? You could charm any girl here."

"But Lula is…different." DJ hesitated, before sighing and pulling away reluctantly. "She doesn't like me, Danesy. You know that."

"I don't know that. I don't see how anyone could ever just 'not like' you. You're fun and charming, patient…"

"Sing my praises, why don't you?" DJ smiled at him, but the smile fell again a moment later. Danes felt his heart ache for him. "But you know what I mean. She didn't want to marry me."

"…Yeah." Danes knew he couldn't deny that. He looked up at the ceiling. "You could've made me do it. You didn't have to…offer yourself."

"I couldn't do that!" he said fiercely, causing Danes to glance at him in surprise. "You know how I feel on this matter. I wouldn't be willing to lose someone from our group like this." He met Danes' eyes. "Least of all you."

"DJ…"

"I wouldn't be able to handle it." DJ turned to stare out at the nearly-finished preparations. The chefs had finally completed the cake and were just bringing it out, and Dahlia was shouting about how the guests would be arriving soon. "But this… I can at least handle this."

Danes set his glass down, now forgotten. "DJ," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I wouldn't change any of this for the world." He turned to him, smiling weakly. "At least…this experience taught me a few more things about you…and me." He leaned in closer.

Meanwhile, Dahlia was still rushing about, shouting orders. Maggie's mother, Madison, was much more calm and reserved, voicing her commands every so often with strong authority.

Chris watched the scene around them unfold. "Everyone always makes such a big deal about our anniversaries."

"Do you…mind it?" she asked, her voice softer than she would've liked. When he glanced at her, she cleared her throat, glancing away as she smoothed her dress. "Does it bother you? I could always tell Mother—"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, causing her to jump, a jolt of shock pulsing through her. "It's alright." He gazed out at the party as she looked up at him. "I wouldn't change this for the world."

Maggie blushed and looked away again. "You're such a charmer."

"I kind of have to be. I want my future wife to love me, after all."

She blinked in surprise. Chris wasn't the kind who made jokes, but she had noticed that he was often more relaxed around her. "I…do like you," she mumbled.

His cool demeanour broke for a second as his eyes widened, the only indication of his surprise. He quickly went back to his usual attitude, smiling. "Pardon?"

"I said I don't hate you, okay?"

"I didn't think you did." He pulled her in closer, his arm still around her waist. "I'm just not always sure if you like me. Did I hear that you do like me after all?"

"I just confirmed that I do," she muttered back. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "But I'd probably like you more if you weren't so chatty with me. You used to be so much more quiet."

"All the better to communicate with you, dear future bride." He rested his own head on hers. "I want to get to know you. All of you."

She blushed, burying her face in his chest. "Don't make it sound so weird."

He felt amusement tickling his lips and pulling at the corners. "I just want us to get along. When I first met you, you were so much more angry. And it absolutely fascinated me. You were like a dancing flame. I had to get to know you. How to get closer to you without getting burned."

"Romantic," she deadpanned, pulling away, her hand still on his chest. "Especially for someone who was an eight-year-old when they thought that."

"Kind of have to be," he replied.

"So…do you like what you've learned?" she asked quietly, awkwardly.

"Pardon?"

"Did you prefer me back then? When I was still a 'dancing flame'?"

"Oh, Maggie…" His gaze softened. "I was fascinated by you then, and I still am. But I like you even more now." He smiled, and Maggie was again surprised. Every time he smiled was like the ice melting after winter, or like the clouds parting to reveal the sun. It was so rare she still wasn't used to it, but it seemed to make him even prettier. "You're still a dancing flame. Just in a different way now. And I still like you, of course…but also in a different way."

Her eyes widened, and she could feel her face burning. She buried her face in his chest again, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "Oh my God."

"Sorry. Too much?" He chuckled, and she hated how much his rare laughter sounded like music. She hated how nice he was to her. How pretty he was. How perfect he was. "But what about you? Do you like me better now or then?"

She paused, trying to think of how to reply. She rested her hand gently on his chest now, tracing circles on his blue vest. "I think," she admitted softly, "that I like you better now too."

Chris' eyes widened briefly again, but they then returned to their usual hooded nature as he smiled. He leaned down to kiss her gently on her warm forehead. "I'm glad. You're my dancing flame."

"And you're my…iceberg."

"Iceberg?" he repeated, holding back another chuckle.

She hit him lightly again, flustered. "You know what I mean," she muttered. "You're my method of floatation in this stupid ocean or something else that's just as stupidly romantically cheesy."

"I'm glad," he said.

Maggie was quiet for a few seconds. Then she murmured, "Yeah. Me too."

A little further away, a butler was saying to Dahlia, "Announcing the arrival of the Van Hissmant family."

"Well, hurry and invite them in," she replied sharply. "The head guests must be assembled first before the rest of the masses arrive."

The butler bowed before turning to open the doors.

Madison stepped closer to Dahlia. "I'm still not yet used to their presence," she admitted. "But if it's for the good of everyone here…"

"It is," Dahlia promised. "You'll see. You'll get used to them soon enough, and you might even like what you see." She glanced at where Chris and Maggie were chatting. "It worked out for those two."

"It did, didn't it?" Madison beamed. "I couldn't be more happy. Your son really calms my daughter down."

"And she really brings him out of his shell. They really are a perfect match," Dahlia agreed.

The head of the Van Hissmant family approached just then, flashing a smile of fangs as he held out his hand. "'Evening, ladies."

"Good evening, Rowryn." Dahlia accepted his hand, and he kissed hers gently.

"Please, call me Slick," he replied, smiling. "All my friends do."

Madison was a little more hesitant, but she also graciously accepted his introduction.

He stood back up. "Where are the gentlemen?"

"They're over there at the refreshments." She nodded at the tables, where Danes' father, Don, and Maggie's father, Clyde, were discussing things.

He smiled crookedly. "Thank you, madames." He took a step back. "May I introduce you to my lovely wife? This is Felicity."

"Good evening." Felicity curtsied slightly, her black hair bobbing. She seemed to carry herself in a way that seemed somewhere between dainty and powerful, and she had black eyes that gleamed when she smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine." Dahlia nodded, also smiling. "Ah! And there's the bride-to-be herself. Hello, Lula."

Lula glanced at her mother, who nodded slightly. The young woman turned back to the older ones, also curtsying. She wore a dark purple dress that reached around her knees. "Hello, madames."

"Your fiancé is right over there," Dahlia said, nodding in the direction of DJ and Danes, who were staring at the newcomers.

When Lula looked up, DJ looked away. Her gaze softened when she noticed Danes. "Thank you," she murmured, already beginning to move away.

"Did you see her eyes warm when she noticed DJ? Perhaps they're beginning to like each other the way Maggie and Chris do," Madison suggested.

"Perhaps." Felicity narrowed her cat-like eyes. She knew better.

Lula had only met DJ a few times, and only twice since their marriage had been confirmed. She still wasn't sure how she felt about him. He was charming, but almost too much. He was friendly, yet the way he carried himself around her seemed to lack sincerity. He was just like the others.

Danes, at least, had been different. He didn't try to pretend. Ironically, he was much more open about his feelings, despite being often emotionless.

It didn't hurt that he was pretty attractive, with his long, dark hair—in her opinion, anyway.

"Good evening, gentlemen." She stopped before them and forced herself to smile.

"'Evening, Lula." DJ still couldn't meet her eyes. She found that he often had trouble doing so.

Danes did not smile or frown, but his gray eyes seemed troubled. "Good evening."

"How are—?"

Before she could finish, her brother manifested beside her. "DJ, Danes! It is sooo good to see you two." He smiled, holding his hands out.

Danes shook it, and then DJ. When DJ did, her brother muttered warningly, "I hope you and my sister are getting along."

"Relax," Lula said, rolling her eyes. "We're fine."

"Just double-checking." He smiled slightly, before turning away. "Hey, Damon! Long time no see. And Tyrone and Shamus too!"

Damon looked up, grinning. "Oh hey! It really has been so long!"

As her older brother bounded off, Lula turned back to DJ and Danes. "How are you two doing?"

The two men exchanged glances, and DJ smiled tersely. "Would you believe me if I said fine, my…dear?"

Lula didn't miss a beat, the big smile still plastered on her face. "Not at all, darling—not at all."

End Flashback

Ross closed the diary in complete and utter shock. His father had ended it with a description of the party, which had gone without a hitch, but that wasn't the main thing that he was so hung up on.

It was the information about DJ's mom. The entire household had always said that DJ and her had met in Italy, and that they'd hit it off immediately. That they really liked each other.

Was this a different woman? Ross wondered.

He almost couldn't believe this was the woman DJ's father would marry, have a child with, and talk about so fondly after her passing. After all, this was nothing like what he'd described their marriage arrangement to be like, and it didn't seem like they got along so well.

DJ Sr and Danes actually seemed to get along even better, which made little sense. DJ Sr and his wife had always been described as loving, but in this entry, they were awkward and tense.

At least, according to his father.

But why would he be wrong? Ross knew it was unlikely Lula wasn't the woman DJ Sr married. It made little sense for her not to be, but the reverse also made just as little sense.

Plus, according to Dad, Lula is—

A knock sounded on his door, startling him out of his thoughts. He pushed the journal aside, sitting up. "Yes?"

"Ross? You ready for the party yet?" Michael asked.

"Ah, shit." He'd lost track of the time. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Just give me five more minutes and I'll be ready."

"Alright. Five and counting. See you then." Michael began walking off.

Ross jumped up and began getting changed, the gears in his head still turning about the Lula thing. He wanted to read more, but he knew he couldn't at the moment. He pulled on his vest jacket and fixed his hair, combing it so that the curls no longer fell so messily around his face. He shoved the door open, relieved. "Sweet, I have two minutes to spare—whoa!"

He was face-to-face with Sydney, causing him to stumble. Her eyes stared back at him, wide in shock as the two of them began falling…

And fell.

"Ouch," Ross muttered, sitting upright. He glanced down and flushed red, quickly jumping upwards. "You alright?" he asked.

"I-I'm fine," she stammered back, despite her shoulders being rigid. She accepted his hand awkwardly and allowed herself to be pulled upwards. She dusted off the lavender dress she was wearing, before combing her fingers through her hair. She'd let it down, with a few braids done in the back, and Ross was suddenly aware of how long it had been since he'd last seen her hair down.

She looked pretty.

He shook the thoughts off as she began speaking again. "I was just coming up to see if you were ready yet, as per Michael's request. He was busy helping the chefs with the cake downstairs. So I offered to check on you because…" She hesitated, before finishing softly, "that's what friends do, right?"

Ross blinked, before realization struck as he remembered their promise. "Oh, yes! Of course." He swung his arm awkwardly, trying to smile. "Welp, I'm all prepared!"

"Ah, that's…good!" Sydney looked flustered, nodding at him. "Sh-Shall we make our way downstairs then, before Michael's mother throws a fit?"

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, clearing his throat. He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

Her face turned pink, and she threaded her arm into his, nodding. The two then made their way down the stairs and into the fray, where Maggie was standing in the centre of it all, dictating her preferences. Chris stood by her side, and Ross noticed with more clarity now when they exchanged loving glances. When Maggie was seething over a chef having prepared white chocolate instead of dark chocolate for a particular platter, looking about ready to cut the poor man's fingers off for his insolence, Chris placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Maggie immediately calmed down and the two held hands after that, with the fiery redhead dictating a little less and directing a little more.

Ross admired their relationship. It had been built out of rules and awkwardness, but the two had somehow managed to make it work and even fall in love with one another.

But DJ's parents…DJ Sr and Lula, on the other hand… Were they the same kind of deal? Was the tension his dad had written about later abolished through the development of their relationship? And was Lula really—?

"Hey, Ross!"

His head shot up as he noticed the newcomer. "DJ! Hey!" Speak of the devil, he thought, already making his way over to his friend. He didn't catch Sydney's look of what almost resembled disappointment when he left her behind.

DJ looked tired, seemingly missing the energy of usual. "I'm really not in the mood for a party," he groaned.

Ross couldn't hide his surprise. "Why not? You're pretty much always in the mood to party."

"Not right now." His friend leaned against the refreshments table, rolling a small piece of round chocolate—which Ross noted might've been the very one Maggie had been so upset over—around on his small plate. "I guess you don't know yet, huh? What happened between me and Bliss."

"Uh-oh. Did something bad happen?"

DJ nodded. "Bad enough, anyway. I told Bliss I was a vampire, but when Sampson, Harry, and this woman named…" He paused, tapping his chin. "What was her name again…? Well, I don't remember, but those three wolves approached and attacked. Bliss was caught in the crossfire, and I…I lost control when I smelled Bliss' blood." He stopped rolling the ball, hanging his head in shame. "I scared her, Ross. Really badly."

He stared back at his friend, suddenly aware that DJ had just experienced Ross' worst nightmare. His grip tightened on the table. I never want that to happen to Buttercup.

"Ross…?" He managed to refocus as DJ kept speaking. "I don't know what to do."

"Try to talk to her," he replied lamely, scratching his arm. He wasn't sure what else to say. "Maybe the situation's not as bleak as it seems."

DJ shot him a look, before sighing. "I mean, you're not wrong." He paused. "At least one good thing came out of this mess."

"And what's that?"

"I made a new friend. His name's Elias, and he—"

"Wait, you mean the cheer guy?"

DJ blinked. "How'd you know?"

Ross smiled in response, nudging his friend. "Not all of us are as self-absorbed as you can be," he teased. "Some of us are down to earth enough to notice those around us."

"Har, har. Very funny." DJ rolled his eyes, before smiling softly. "But yeah, Elias was pretty great. He distracted me from the pain, and even helped me open up a bit."

"That's good." Ross gazed out at the party. "Well…am I helping?"

DJ snorted, tousling his friend's hair. "A bit. You'd be more helpful if you listened more and talked less."

"Alright, fine." Ross tilted his head back to stare up at the high, ornate ceiling as he asked, "Sooo—anything else you want to talk about?"

DJ was silent for a second, before frowning and saying slowly, "Yeah, actually… There was one other thing." He paused. "That woman…with Sampson and Harry… She'd acted as if she'd known who I was, and Harry had gotten all pissy when I didn't recognize her, claiming my father hadn't told me anything. Almost as if…they'd known me back in the day."

"It's possible, isn't it?" he asked. "We were all allies before Damon fucked everything up."

His friend's eyes widened then, as his mouth dropped open. "You don't think…" He jerked his head toward Ross. "You don't think she's my actual mom, do you?"

Ross blinked, startled by the sudden outburst. "No…wait, that never even crossed my mind—"

"I wouldn't put it past mio padre." DJ narrowed his eyes in the direction of his father, who was chatting softly with Danes.

He hesitated. He knew how rocky his friend's relationship could be with his father sometimes, but he wanted them to get along—especially because for Ross, he'd never even known his own father. But he also didn't want to upset his friend by seemingly "siding" with DJ's father. "I'm sure that's not the case, DJ. I know your father had many…relationships over the years, but I don't think he'd…go that far."

DJ didn't reply for quite some time, staring out at the party, where his father was mingling with Danes and other guests. A distracted smile here, and a sheepish grin there, women swooning… "I need to find that woman again," he muttered. "Get some answers."

Ross opened his mouth to reply, wanting to say something about not being too hasty or rash, but before he could, DJ Sr approached, with Danes trailing behind him.

"Hey, kids!" The older man smiled tiredly. "Enjoying the beginnings of the party so far?"

"It's not much of a party yet," DJ replied, narrowing his blue eyes.

"I guess so." DJ Sr chuckled apologetically. "Anyway, I was just chatting with Danes, and I feel as though…it would be beneficial if we talked—"

DJ immediately jolted to attention. "About what?" he asked sharply.

His father glanced back at Danes, who nodded solemnly, almost encouragingly. DJ Sr signed and turned to face his son once more. "About whatever's been troubling you so much lately." He hesitated briefly, before adding quietly, "About family."

"Alright." DJ smiled, but it was devoid of positivity. "Let's talk."

As DJ Sr led his son away, Ross turned to Danes. "Do you think they're going to be okay?"

The gray-eyed man seemed distracted as he watched them leave, but he soon answered, "They have a lot to discuss, but I'm sure they'll get it all sorted out."

"I hope so," Ross murmured, turning back to the party.

Meanwhile, another teenager was having a conversation with their parents.

Christie sighed, pulling her hair back and waiting as her mother combed it up into a bun. "Is this all really necessary?" she asked, huffing.

"We need all the celebration we can get here," her mother replied adamantly. "Have you noticed how miserable it is in here?"

"To be fair, I've been gone awhile," Christie muttered in reply, folding her arms.

Maggie snorted, finishing up with her daughter's hair. "Point taken." She turned quiet for a split second before asking, "So tell me more about what happened. How horrible was the ordeal?"

She hesitated. She didn't want to tell too much, lest she invoke the wrath of her parents, because then they'd most certainly try to hunt down both Damon and Vix.

Vix…

The name still sent confusion swirling through her thoughts, and the clarity of her mind would suddenly dissipate into fog. How do I feel about Vix? she wondered. I know I hope he's okay… But otherwise…

"Well?" her mother prompted.

Christie opened her mouth to reply, but breathed out a sigh of relief instead when the door burst open and Michael came rushing in.

"Mom, the guests of honour are already arriving!" he called. "We have to go greet them."

Maggie immediately became a whirlwind of both grace and speed, bundling up the purple silk scarf that went with her slimming black dress and hurrying out the door. Michael followed, and Christie also stood up to go.

She paused to take one last look at herself in the mirror. Her mother had pulled her hair back into the pretty bun, with a golden, ornate hair-piece tucked in, studded with aqua gemstones that accentuated her eyes. The entire hairpiece was designed to look like a small bouquet in her hair. Her dress had a white top and a yellow skirt that started beneath her chest.

Christie did a little spin, frowning. She stopped and stared back at her reflection. It felt wrong—here she was, dressing up for a fancy dinner party, when Vix was still being held captive by Damon. She bit her lip, her fists tightening by her side. It just wasn't right.

We shouldn't just be here having fun while he's still in danger. I know Mom doesn't care about him, but still…it's not fair to him, and he could even be in danger right now while we're just hanging around…

I wish I could save him…but he doesn't want to be saved…

Christie let her shoulders loosen as she sighed in frustration. She knew better than anyone that she couldn't force a rescue on someone who thought they didn't need it. And yet, at the same time, Vix was still different, because he didn't even want to escape. It wasn't like with her, when she thought she could save herself… Vix just didn't even want to try.

"Christie? Darling, you coming?"

She jolted at the sound of her mother's voice. "Coming, Mom!" she called back, turning around to hurry after her family. I have to put on a mask for the rest of today; can't let them see what's bothering me. Mom would throw a fit if she knew.

"Good! Because we can't exactly have a party without the guest of honour, now can we?"

"Oh, I don't know. You could try." Christie forced herself to smile cheekily as she opened the door and faced her mother, reminding herself to keep up the act.

"Nice try. But you're coming with us whether you like it or not," Maggie replied, grabbing her daughter by the forearm as she grinned. "Now come on; your dad and the rest of the party is waiting for you downstairs."

Christie let herself be pulled along, and the two descended the staircase. Once Maggie stopped, she lifted her daughter's arm into the air.

"Christie has come home!" she announced triumphantly. "That vile wolf Damon was not able to defeat her!"

Cheers began sounding as everyone in the party began clapping, the noise a loud thundering sound that resounded through the room. Christie grimaced at the intense cheers, with everyone shouting things that ranged from "welcome home!" to "let's murder that damn bastard!"

Maggie decided to address the "murder" cheers first, grinning darkly. "Of course, Damon will pay for his crimes. But tonight"—here she lifted her glass into the air—"tonight we celebrate my daughter's safe return!"

More cheers sounded, this time resembling an explosion. Christie pulled back slightly, suddenly aware of all the people and questions she'd have to entertain for the rest of the night, despite her mind being on very different things at the moment. She knew no one would ask about Vix, as much as he was worrying her.

She glanced to the side, where her brother was chatting with his friends. She wished she could join them—they seemed so relaxed and carefree.

Except, she noticed with mild interest, DJ—he was talking heatedly with his father, and neither of them seemed very pleased with the other. DJ actually looked like he was nearing full-on yelling, but his father seemed more distressed and exasperated.

Christie's attention was pulled away from that duo when her mother wrapped her arm around her and said, "Darling, this is Vizasio. You remember him from when you were a child, don't you…?"

She turned around and smiled awkwardly, nodding just slightly as she shook the older man's hand. "Hello, sir."

"And this is Mark, with his wife Katie…"

Christie felt her smile become less and less sincere and more and more glued to her face as the night continued on. She fell into an automatic motion: smile and nod, say hello, shake their hand, wish them a happy night… She met and said hello to countless people, ranging from Carl and Henry to more ridiculous names like Svelt and Yitsel.

Then there was the toasting and the speeches, some of them being awkward, drunken speeches, and even after all that, there were still people constantly approaching her with questions and topics and stories. Her mother was as eager as ever to introduce her to potential suitors, despite Christie's frustration.

I already have enough romance problems in my life! I don't need any more! she thought in frustration, still trying to hold onto her smile as she was forced to chat with countless guys.

"And you've already met Rodriguez," her mother was saying with a smile that seemed both demure and demanding, asking her daughter to be civil with the male standing before her.

Christie scrunched up her face and forced herself to smile despite her discomfort. "Good evening, Rodriguez," she managed to say, curtsying to avoid meeting his gaze.

"Hello, my fair Christie," he said, reaching out to take her hand and gently kiss it. "Fancy meeting you here," he added, his eyes sliding upwards.

She quickly pulled her hand back and laughed uncomfortably. "Well, I mean…considering you were sent an invitation and all… It's less of a coincidence and more of a—"

"A beautiful chance!" Maggie quickly interrupted. "Christie was most insistent you be invited, Rodriguez."

"She was, was she?" One black eyebrow slid upwards as a smirk appeared on his face. "Now that is nice to know."

Christie's eyes widened in shock and her head jerked towards her mother to give her a scalding glare.

Maggie shrugged sheepishly, and Christie fought back a scream.

That's a fucking lie! she felt herself shrieking internally.

Rodriguez glanced behind him, where three more boys were lined up, mostly fidgeting awkwardly and shyly. They all seemed intimidated by his confident demeanour. He turned back to Christie. "Shall we go somewhere more…secluded?"

She felt a robotic laugh escape her lips. "Now, that would be most rude, wouldn't it, Mother? I still have some boys to greet." She glared at her mom again.

Maggie cleared her throat. "Yes, yes, of course. Let's greet the others."

"Hmmm. I can wait," Rodriguez replied, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Christie held back her screaming with a tight smile, turning to ignore the dark-haired man now standing beside her mother and instead focusing on the remaining boys before her.

A boy with shaggy red hair stood before her, who stuttered, "H-H-Hi, I'm R-Rudolph."

"Good evening, Rudolph," she greeted. Her gaze slid to Rodriguez and deciding to stall even further, she smiled and asked, "What do you like to do for fun?"

"I-I-I l-like building things out of L-Lego," he explained, flushed with embarrassment. "I-Is that w-w-weird?"

"Not at all!" Christie said cordially. "I find that most interesting. What sort of things do you build?"

"I-I can sh-show you," he responded, seeming a little more relieved that she hadn't judged him. He fumbled with his pocket and pulled out a phone, trying to unlock it. As he finally got it past the lock screen, Christie noticed Rodriguez roll his eyes. Rudolph showed her some photos. "I-I made these r-recently. They're d-dinosaurs. S-See, that one's a T-rex and th-that's a Triceratops…"

They went through a few more photos, and then Maggie stepped in to remind them of the other guests. Christie reluctantly said goodbye to poor, nervous Rudolph, who bowed when she curtsied and caused them to bump heads.

"S-S-Sorry," he stammered.

She told him it was okay, but Rodriguez growled, "Watch it, buddy. That's Christie Hawthorne you nearly hurt with your big head."

Rudolph squeaked and apologized profusely again, and while Christie was glad this prolonged their time together—and thus her time away from Rodriguez—she couldn't help but glower at Rodriguez for his harshness. When the redheaded boy walked away shakily, Rodriguez noticed the look on her face.

He shrugged. "What?"

Frustrated, she rolled her eyes and focused on the next guest, who introduced himself quietly as Aaron. Again Christie attempted to prolong their meeting. Again Maggie cleared her throat. Again Christie was forced to say goodbye, and again Rodriguez growled at the boy leaving.

Finally there was only one.

Christie turned back around and sighed. Soon she'd be stuck with Rodriguez for the rest of the night, and when she wasn't with him, she'd be chatting with guests. While she was used to both choices, neither was very appealing.

She refocused on the boy before her and almost immediately felt her jaw drop. "Vix!?" she hissed.

The boy standing before her certainly looked like Vix, but it was wrong somehow—his posture seemed different, and he had on glasses. His red hair was tied back, and he wore a black vest with black pants and a white shirt underneath.

Rodriguez immediately began snarling, and even Maggie snapped to attention, her green eyes narrowed in suspicion as her hands jerked upwards in a battle position.

"Is that you?" Christie asked in a low whisper. "If so, what are you doing here? You could get killed!"

The redheaded boy just smiled casually. "You seem to have gotten me mixed up with someone else, Miss Hawthorne. My name is Vincent."

Christie stared at him blankly, before her brain registered what he'd said. "Oh…you must be one of Michael's friends. I believe he's mentioned you once or twice," she said slowly. Despite her earlier disbelief at the idea that Vix had come visit her homecoming party despite the risks, there had been a warmth blossoming within her as well. Now that warmth was promptly frozen and she found herself dealing with a disappointment she attempted to quickly shake off.

Maggie lowered her fists and smiled. "Ah, so you are not the disgusting fox-wolf. It has been quite some time since I last saw you, Vincent."

"Indeed." He smiled back at her. "My father is quite strict, and has not let me go out in some time."

Rodriguez continued to glare at Vincent. "How do we know you aren't the traitor Vix?" he demanded lowly.

Christie glared at him. "First off, don't be so rude just because you don't like Vix"—or other guys being around me, for that matter—"and second off, Vincent is a real person that exists and is my brother's friend. He doesn't have to prove anything."

"Thanks for vouching for me, Miss Hawthorne," he said, smiling.

"Just Christie is fine," she replied. "And no worries. No one is going to be treated unfairly under my watch." At that, she sent another pointed look at Rodriguez.

He just snorted.

She refocused on Vincent. "I don't know you as well as I would like, considering you're Michael's friend. Care to tell me a little about yourself?"

"It would be my pleasure," he replied. "What would you like to know?"

"Do you have any hobbies?"

"Oh, I enjoy the violin, and there's the occasional huntings." Vincent smiled. "What do you enjoy?"

"Hmm. Similar things, it seems." Christie nodded at her mother. "They've enrolled me into quite a few programs."

"Ah, so has my father," Vincent agreed. "He's been trying to develop me into the highest level of human I can be."

"It's the same case with me," she chuckled.

"At least we know they just want us to be the best we can be."

Christie nodded. "I suppose that's true."

Maggie cleared her throat. "Indeed it is! And right now I think Christie's best would be to find herself a match that she can commit to. Pardon us, Vincent, but unless you have wishes to accompany my daughter all night, Rodriguez here has been waiting for her company."

She held her breath, wondering what Vincent would say.

He glanced between the three, where Rodriguez was sending him the deadliest of death glares. "It seems that Rodriguez is head of the wait list. I'll go and say hello to my other friends."

Christie deflated, disappointed that despite her best efforts, she was still stuck with Rodriguez after all.

Vincent seemed to notice her disdain, because he winked and added, "I'll see you around. Maybe I can join you later."

"That sounds lovely." She smiled back, somewhat relieved. At least that would lessen her time spent with the jerk standing next to her mother.

As Vincent walked off, Rodriguez walked up and held out his hand expectantly. "My lady. Care to dance?"

Christie hesitated, but noticed the flash of her mother's green eyes, and she groaned inwardly. She took his hand.

He smiled a smile that showed too many of his teeth, and he tugged her away. The two began spinning slowly, with silence stretching out between them. Then Rodriguez leaned close to her neck and let his fangs slide out as he asked huskily, "Why do you choose to avoid me so, little fruit bat?"

"I'm not avoiding you," she lied half-heartedly.

"Bullshit," he hissed, and she could feel his breath on her neck. "Don't make me bite, little fruit bat. It would be most painful."

To any outsider, they still appeared to be dancing, but when Christie pulled away, she yanked hard, twisting his arm as she did so. She felt satisfaction at seeing the pain in his face. Snarling, her own fangs showing, she glared at him. "I'm not a fruit bat, Rodriguez. You better fucking watch your step, or I'll slash your throat in half and shove your dismembered head up your ass so that you can finally see who you really are: an ass."

"Hmm. Feisty." Rodriguez smirked. "Just like your mother."

"I am not my mother."

He pulled closer, taking her hand again. "No. Your mother was willing to sacrifice her freedom and settle for an arranged marriage. But your selfishness is stronger, no?"

"She at least knew Father would treat her right. I have no evidence of you being capable of doing so."

"Then give me a chance, no?" Rodriguez spun her once more. "You've hardly given me any opportunities to prove myself. I could make you most happy, as long as you listen."

Christie hesitated. She hated the idea of letting Rodriguez hit on her, because she was 98% sure he wouldn't make her happy, but she also knew that it would be unfair if she didn't give him a chance. And at least if I do, I can finally definitively have proof of how bad he is, she thought. Out loud she replied, "Okay, fine. I'll give you a chance, but if it doesn't work out, then no more."

"Very well," he replied, tipping her before leaning in very closely. "I'll show you an evening you'll never forget."

"That I'm sure of," she muttered, scrunching her nose in disdain.

He pulled her back up and they continued to spin until the song ended. Then Rodriguez turned to the large windows that showed the garden outside. "Shall we head out into the garden for some privacy, my darling?"

Christie looked around. She didn't want to leave the company of others, as Rodriguez couldn't do anything too weird with so many witnesses around. But if it was for the long-term benefit of never having to deal with him again, she decided she'd risk it this one time. "Alright. Let's go then."

She let him lead the way as they exited the mansion and entered the garden. Rodriguez seemed insistent upon taking the lead, despite Christie knowing the grounds much better than he did. They wandered around for some time, before he had to stop and frown.

Christie rolled her eyes. "There's a bench on the other side of that bush, in front of one of our fountains. Would you care to sit down?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Why, it'd be my pleasure." He coughed. "And I was well aware of that bench… I was not lost in any way, shape, or form."

She didn't dignify him with a response, instead taking the lead and stopping to wait for him behind the bush.

He hurried to catch up, asking in an almost whining tone, "Why must you always be so rude, dear? It would be so much easier for all of us if you would only cooperate."

"The thing is"—she smiled coldly—"I'm not easy."

"So I've noticed." He sat down on the marble bench and patted the seat beside him.

Christie lifted her chin and sat down stiffly, fixing her skirt so that even it kept a few inches away from him.

He leaned in, attempting to close the distance Christie had fortified. "But we can make this easy, no?"

She leaned back and put on a cold smile, trying to create some more distance between them, despite how futile her efforts were. "I'd prefer the 'no' option," she muttered.

Rodriguez suddenly leaned back and barked out a laugh, causing her to pause, startled. It sounded sharp and irritated—there was nothing genuine or happy about it. When he had finished laughing, he turned to her, and she noticed that despite his behaviour, there was no amusement in his eyes. Instead, there was irritation. "You are quite the tease, Christie dear," he muttered, his voice oozing like oil.

She tried not to shudder as she responded sharply, "I'm not teasing, Rodriguez. I'm just not interested."

"But you promised to give me a chance, yes?"

She noticed that this time, he didn't say "no?" at the end of his question. She hesitated.

"You did, yes?" He narrowed his eyes.

"I did," she finally admitted. She felt exposed, and she immediately regretted having taken the risk she thought she was ready for. She was unwilling to sacrifice her long-term happiness to settle with him, but it seemed as though she was even unwilling to sacrifice her short-term happiness to get rid of him.

"Then give me this chance." Rodriguez reached out, and while Christie tried not to shudder, she still felt goosebumps as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He gestured out at the garden. "I could give you something like this. This, and so much more."

"Really?" she asked flatly, her eyes focused on the hand resting way too close to her chest.

"Really," he confirmed. "We could have a large white mansion just like this one, with a large garden just like this one."

"Would there be anything new?" she asked icily. "Or is it all just going to attempt copying the grandeur of my uncle's mansion?"

"Oh, there will be plenty new," he replied calmly. He grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. "Such as perhaps two, three, or even four little children running around the garden, yes?"

Christie's eyes widened, and after the shock faded, she felt her lips curl back in a snarl. She could feel his hot, gross breath on her face, and she wanted to punch his head out of the way. "No," she growled out firmly. "I think not."

"Then we can have just one," he whispered, leaning in close to her ear. She felt his fangs slide out against her skin, and soon felt the gentle nibble of teeth on her ear.

Christie's eyes grew large again, and she immediately retaliated, jerking away and punching him in the chest as hard as she could. She tried to stand up and leave, but he still had his arm around her.

Rodriguez let out a gasp that almost sounded like a moan, and she hated that it was against her ear—that it was so loud and gross and God why does he sound turned on oh my God get me out of here—

But just as she was about to hit him again, maybe in the face, she felt her fist stopped by his hand. Christie turned back to stare at him. He was smirking, despite one swelling eye, and she could see his fangs. Then before she could even register what was happening, she felt him lunge forward as his lips smashed into hers.

She let out a muffled scream, but even the slight parting of her lips caused his tongue to jab into the space. He was trying to force his way in, and while her brain basically button-mashed in an attempt to escape, her body was much slower to respond.

It was only when she felt his hands exploring her body that she instinctively drew her hand back and punched him as hard as possible in the stomach. He let out another gasp of shock against her mouth, and she quickly jumped backwards and away.

"You...You fucking piece of shit!" she snarled, her shoulders heaving. She tried to fix her dress, which had been pulled around quite a lot in his attempts to explore her body.

Rodriguez just smirked, looking up at her with a smug expression. "You enjoyed that, didn't you? I've always known how to make a lady putty in my hands. And I know your type, Christie. You're the kind of girl who likes to play around with guys. You continuously tease them and flit about; like some motherfucking Taylor Swift shit. You want our attention, don't you? You want to see what we'd do to try and win you over. You like keeping track of this shit. It turns you on. So you know what? I'll play your little games."

"You've got me all wrong, Rodriguez," she hissed, although a small part of her wondered how much of what he said was true. "And it seems that I've got you all wrong too."

"I knew it. You liked that. You like me. You like a dominant man, don't you? Someone stronger than you—"

"You're worse, you shithead," she snapped, in an attempt to get him to stop talking.

Rodriguez's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't even miss a beat as he put on another confident grin. "Yeah? So what are you going to do now in this little game of yours, love? Slap me?" He chuckled. "I'll even 'turn the other cheek' for you and let you land this blow, yes?" He tilted his head confidently, chin raised but cheek facing her.

Christie took one look at his smug display and she immediately knew what she was going to do. She raised her hand, and when she saw his leering smirk, she swung her leg forward instead and kicked him squarely, violently between the legs.

And as he doubled over in pain, Christie took one look of satisfaction before getting up. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away without looking back.

When she reentered the ballroom, she was immediately greeted by her mother, who kept peeking behind her. "So how'd it go? Where's Rodriguez?" the redheaded woman asked anxiously.

"It went shit," Christie replied, not bothering to hide her anger. "Why did you have to keep pushing him on me? He's a complete asshole who has no respect whatsoever for me. I gave him a chance by tolerating his advances, but it was unbearable! After that mess, when I kept saying no, he had the audacity to treat it as some game, as if I was simply playing hard to get!"

Maggie raised her hands and looked around nervously. A few of the guests closer to them had started to stare, so she quickly murmured, "Christie, darling, let's not make a scene—"

"Fuck that!" she snapped. "I don't care about that anymore! Rodriguez is awful, Mom—and I have no intention of giving him any more chances after this! Why can't you understand?"

Maggie turned to face her daughter and saw the burning anger in her turquoise eyes, but most of all, she saw the hurt. She sighed, lowering her hands. "I do understand."

Christie blinked. She hadn't been expecting this response. "So why did you keep pushing so hard?" she asked, not bothering to hide the accusation in her tone.

Maggie sighed again, taking her daughter gently by the arm. She led her to a chair, and the two sat down. Maggie was silent for a few seconds before explaining, "I guess I was so worried you wouldn't find someone perfect in time that I started to try and set you up with guys more. I know I shouldn't have been so pushy, but I was worried…"

"About what?" she responded in disbelief. "This isn't the eighteenth century anymore, Mom. Women don't have to think so much about marriage now."

"I wasn't thinking about marriage." Maggie looked up at the ballroom and its guests, and when Christie followed her gaze, she saw that her mother was staring at her husband, who was on the other side of the room. "I guess I just thought that if I could get someone as amazing as Chris through an arranged marriage, then I wanted to recreate that magic for you in the best possible match. But I got carried away." She turned to Christie and smiled a small, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, dear."

Christie was silent for awhile. "None of those guys were for me, Mom. They weren't the 'best possible'. I just wished you could see that."

"It soon became less about finding a perfect match, and more about finding any match at all. And I admit I got a bit distracted based on the status of the boy. I didn't want to marry you off as soon as possible; I just wanted you to find a good boyfriend who could take care of you."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know, darling. And I'm sorry I didn't let you. But I'm scared, and I didn't want you to end up with someone…" Maggie trailed off.

Christie jerked upwards. "'Someone'…?" she repeated, prompting her mother to continue.

She hesitated. Unbeknownst to her daughter, she was thinking of Vix and his confession of his love for Christie to Danes. "Someone…not quite up to standard, I suppose."

Christie couldn't help to snort. "Ironically enough, that sounds exactly like Rodriguez."

Maggie sighed. "I'm sorry, darling. But is he truly that bad?"

"He's awful! He tried to make physical advances on me tonight. I had to kick him in the balls to get him to back off because he seemed to think I was into one of those girlfriend-boyfriend relationships where one likes to fight back to be dominated by the other. And it was so disgusting!"

Her mother's eyes widened, and she saw the fire ignite in that green gaze. "WHAT!?" she exploded. When several guests glanced their way, she lowered her voice to a hiss. "What exactly did he do!?"

"He kept trying to kiss me despite my attempts at saying no—"

Maggie smashed her fist into her palm, her eyes blazing. "That's bad enough. I'm going to fucking behead him," she snarled. "How dare he treat my daughter in such a way!?"

"Mom!" Christie grabbed her mother's arms. She was never sure how serious Maggie would act on her threats, but more often than not, Maggie did intend to act on them, even if it wasn't to the extent she expressed verbally. "You can't kill him! His family would have your head!"

"I don't care; I'm going to fucking slaughter him—"

"Slaughter who?" Chris appeared by their side as if out of thin air, brow furrowed.

"Mom wants to murder Rodriguez because he tried to make advances on me without my consent," Christie explained, still gripping her mother's arms.

Chris' blue eyes narrowed dangerously and the glass in his hand shattered as his grip tightened. The glass caused some bleeding, snapping Maggie out of her fury.

"Chris! Are you okay?" She grabbed his hand and inspected it, gently rubbing his skin with her thumb. She was frowning. "Why did you do that?"

"I was mad," he answered softly. Maggie's concern had also snapped him out of his own rage.

Maggie snorted. "I know how you feel." She looked up. "Christie says we can't kill Rodriguez or his family will declare war on us."

Chris sighed, his shoulders lowering from their stiff, defensive position. "As much as I hate to say it, she's right," he murmured softly. "Things are bad enough as it is. We can't have in-fighting now."

"Not even if the person we're fighting deserves it?" she muttered back. But then she sighed. "I guess we'll just give Rodriguez a warning. But he's not allowed near my daughter ever again, or else I'll snap his neck."

Chris nodded, kissing the top of Maggie's head, while Christie sighed with relief.

"Care to dance?" a voice asked.

Christie turned, and for a second she thought it was Vix standing before her, with a flowing red ponytail and a nice suit. But the smile was wrong, and the eyes were wrong…

And that's when the name crossed her mind: "Vincent?"

He nodded. "Care to dance?" he asked again.

Christie looked around, spotting the dangerous glares of her parents. She suddenly remembered how pushy they had been lately, and how often she'd simply chosen to listen to them. So in an act of defiance, she raised her chin and said, "Sure. I'd love to."

As Vincent led her away, he gave Christie's parents a calm, knowing smile.

"Do you think they're okay?" Michael whispered.

Ross shrugged unsurely. "He looks pretty mad."

"Why's he so upset anyway? Today's a day of celebration, and he's acting as if something crawled up in his ass and died."

His friend snorted, stifling a chuckle. "Now, Michael. Don't undermine DJ's suffering." He turned more serious then, frowning. It's his parents that he's worried about—and their relationship."

"His parents?" Michael's surprise was evident, causing him to lower his voice. "What about them?"

Ross pretended to zip his lips. "I can't say anything. Not yet. Not until DJ gives the a-okay."

"Fine." Michael crossed his arms and smirked. "If there's one thing we're good at, it's keeping secrets, eh?"

"You said it." Ross nodded.

"Speaking of secrets and surprises…"

He blinked. "What? You have something going on too?"

Michael shrugged. "Nothing serious. I just invited a special guest to come, is all."

Ross regarded him in shock. "Jesus Christ, again? Are you in love with her?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't say who it is yet."

"Oh, I can tell." Ross snorted. "Aren't you worried she's going to think you're desperate?"

"What? She knew about Christie being missing. I figured she'd like to know that my sister was back safe and sound," Michael said defensively.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think you wanted to ease her concerns, or your own?"

"What would I have to be concerned over now that Christie's back?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe something about girls?" Ross asked sarcastically.

"Why are you being so harsh about this?"

Ross relaxed his shoulders. "Sorry. I just think you shouldn't rush into another relationship so soon, unless you know for sure she's the one. You've already had your heart broken once, and I don't want it to happen again."

Michael was quiet for awhile. It was only when Ross glanced over at him that he met Ross' eyes and murmured, "Thanks for your concern, but I'm not… I'm not trying to start another relationship so soon. I just want…someone who I can talk to that isn't so enveloped in the gravity of everything of this household. She's…free from all this, and her perspective helps me."

Ross stared at him, trying to piece together his thoughts. He believed Michael was telling the truth, but feelings often acted on their own, regardless of your thought process. He nodded slowly. "Okay. I get it."

"Thanks, Ross."

"Michael…?"

He looked up, brightening. "Cassandra! Hey! Welcome to the party. What do you think so far?"

She stood there awkwardly, eyes flitting about nervously as guests stared at her. "It's…certainly busy," she mumbled. Then she looked up, concern in her gaze. "Are you okay?"

"I am now that my sister's back! Here, let's go chat outside." Michael placed his arm around her and glanced back at Ross, who gave him a nod. Then he led the girl away.

After they'd stepped out into the cool night air, Cassandra relaxed. "I felt nervous in there," she admitted. "I guess I'm just not used to big parties like these."

"It is a lot. Sorry." Michael offered an apologetic smile. "I should've considered that before inviting you."

"It's okay! I wanted to come," she said quickly.

He relaxed too, and his smile grew more genuine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied. He paused then. "Do you want to meet my parents? I could—"

"Oh, no! No thanks," she interjected immediately, waving her hands. When he blinked at her, she blushed and explained, "I'm not ready to be introduced to anyone just yet. I think I just…umm… I just want to enjoy the party with you tonight." She smiled weakly. "Get to know you some more, you know?"

"Oh, okay." Michael frowned, but he couldn't help but feel fuzzy knowing that Cassandra wanted to spend the night just with him. "It sounds like it'll be fun," he offered.

She nodded, looking away, seemingly out of embarrassment. "There's…a lot about you that I don't know," she said softly.

"That's true." He hesitated. He didn't know how much he wanted her to know about himself. Maybe I can ask about her? "I'd certainly like to get to know you as well."

She stared at him with wide eyes, before looking back down. "I hope you like the things you learn."

"And I hope you also like what you learn about me," he agreed. "But what's there not to like?"

"Well, we all have our own secrets, right?" She gave him a small smile.

He nodded. "That's certainly true." I definitely have too many to count.

"So how's about we play Never Have I Ever or something, but without the drinking?" she suggested. She giggled. "It'll help us get to know each other, and also break the ice."

Michael smiled. "Sure; sounds like fun."

"Okay, I'll start." She tilted her head to the side before smiling. "Alright, I've got something. Never have I ever searched my own name on the internet to see what would come up."

"Oh, of course I have!" he laughed, shrugging. "Who hasn't?"

"Well, not me, because I've also done it," she giggled.

"And what came up?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing special. Just regular girls." She stuck her tongue out. "What about for you?"

"Hmmm…some results of me came up from social events. Apparently a Michael Hawthorne plays football, and there's also a Marvel character with my name. Wild, huh?"

"Oooh, that does sound wild. Who's your favourite Marvel hero?"

"Would have to be Iron Man. You?"

"Spiderman or Wolverine." She smiled. "DC hero?"

"Definitely, absolutely, 100% Bruce Wayne Batman."

She laughed. "Do you like them both because they're relatable and rich?"

"I'm not rich," he said defensively, despite his amused smile.

She gestured at his giant house teasingly. "What's all this then?"

"I live comfortably," he replied, raising both eyebrows and grinning.

"That's exactly what a rich person would say!"

"Well, I do have other reasons for liking Batman," he laughed. "I like bats, alright? Who's your favourite DC hero?"

"Wonder Woman or Blue Beetle." She paused then. "Actually, isn't there a girl in the Bat-family named Cassandra? She's like…another one of Bruce Wayne's one million children."

"Really? I only know Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne."

"Of course you do." She smiled, hitting his arm lightly. "Surface nerd. Those are the basic boys, but Batman has more adopted kids."

"Alright, alright, so I need to brush up on my superheroes." He smiled back. "But hey, looks like we both share names with comic book characters."

"Yeah, that is pretty wild, huh?"

"You wanna know what's even wilder?"

"What?"

"The Michael Hawthorne of the Marvel universe almost vaguely resembles my uncle. Isn't that weird?" He raised an eyebrow. "I'd never even heard of him till I searched up my name too."

Cassandra's eyes widened. She giggled as she suggested, "Maybe your parents are big Marvel fans?"

"Maybe," he chuckled. "But alright, back to the game. Never have I ever dissected a living animal."

"I have, if you can believe it! And not just at school." She smiled. "My dad's a doctor so I've done lots of dissections to be familiar with the bodies."

"You must be pretty good with a knife then."

She winked. "I most certainly am."

"Oof. Remind me not to piss you off."

She laughed. "It's all good. Have you done it?"

"Just for school." He put his hands up. "I'm not quite as extra as you."

"Alright, so I'm a weirdo. Well, never have I ever had an imaginary friend."

He held up his hand. "I'm afraid I'm a boring human being."

"I had one. His name was Mr. Ruffles and he was this humanoid dog."

"Were you a furry?" He snorted, trying to stifle his laughter. It wasn't working.

"Oh, shush!" She hit him playfully. "Liking anthro animals does not equal a furry."

"Okay, whatever you say."

"What? You don't like films like Zootopia?"

"I mean, I do, but—"

"Then by your logic, you're also a furry!" she teased.

"Alright, alright, settle down now." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Never have I ever had braces."

She shook her head.

"Well, I have." He sighed. "It was an embarrassing few years."

She gasped. "You? Mr. Perfect?"

"I'll admit it. I wasn't always this perfect." He shook his head in a jokingly disappointed nature.

"Did you ever kiss someone and get your braces stuck?"

He hesitated, before nodding.

"Oh my God!" She burst out laughing. "Who was the person on the other side of that kiss?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Now that's confidential information. You can't know that until we're much, much closer."

"Well, I hope you realize that now that you've told me, I'll never let this information go."

"Don't you dare!"

She continued giggling, stopping just enough to say, "Never have I ever tried bungee jumping."

Michael shook his head.

"I have!" she said excitedly. "My dad and I liked going."

"Wow, you guys sound like you live on the wild side! Bungee jumping and dissecting animals left and right… Jeez, you must be quite the adventurer!"

"I'd like to think of myself that way," she agreed.

"Never have I ever…" He paused. "Farted in public?"

"Who hasn't?"

"I haven't."

"That is so totally a lie."

He smiled. "Alright. So it was."

"What do you do when you fart in public?"

"Do it in discretion or pretend it wasn't me, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Never have I ever stolen money from a family member."

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Ahh, then this is going to make me look bad. I have. From my parents and my sister, when I was a lot younger. But never my uncle. Never ever my uncle. I'm too scared of him for that."

"What a good son and brother you were!"

"Well, I was a good nephew, at least."

"True." She smiled. "Never have I ever skipped school."

"Oops. Done that too."

"Well, I haven't." She snorted. "Are you a bad boy?"

"I guess so. Does that make you the good girl?" He winked at her.

She felt her cheeks warm slightly. "Well, I wonder about that… But let me guess. You've also cheated on tests before?"

"You haven't?"

She hesitated. "Well, okay. This I've done."

"Guess you're not a total good girl after all! Then I shouldn't have to worry about being a corrupting influence."

She laughed. "Seems so. What about… Never have I ever cried at school?"

"Oh, I've done that. My uncle can be pretty scary. I've been called to the office and he was there to yell at me."

"Aww, you poor thing…" She patted him on the back. "I've never done that. My dad's too sweet for that."

"Lucky you, but I can certainly see why." He smiled at her.

She blushed slightly. "Never have I ever played Pokémon?"

He shook his head.

Cassandra gasped. "What? No! You monster!"

"Sorry! I used to watch the anime as a kid, but I never played the games…"

"Okay, I am so going to introduce you to the games sometime. The anime is cute too."

"I wouldn't mind that." He smiled. "It sounds like fun." He paused then. "Never have I screamed and/or ran at the sight of a bug."

"Nah. Usually I just catch them and let them go, or I kill them if it comes down to it."

"Welp. I've totally screamed like a real scaredy-cat." He grinned sheepishly. "I hate ants and centipedes, but even spiders give me the heebie-jeebies."

"Understandable, but…" She covered her mouth with her hand.

"What?"

"Who even says 'heebie-jeebies'?" she giggled, her voice and laughter muffled by her hand.

"Hey, it's a good term! I'll fight you on that one."

"Yeah? Well, never have I ever done martial arts."

"Oh, I totally have. You've seen me in action."

"I have too." She raised an eyebrow. "Think you can beat me?"

"I wouldn't want to."

"Why? Because I'm a girl?"

"Well, okay. First off, I'm not sexist. Second off, I like you, so I'd rather not fight you. And third off, I've seen you in action." He grinned. "So yeah. You're strong. I don't know if I'd like to take you on. You fought against Damon, and he's scary powerful."

Cassandra felt her cheeks warm again. "On uh… Thanks."

"Hey, no prob. You saved my life back there."

"And it was worth it." She smiled.

Now it was Michael's turn to blush somewhat, and he coughed before saying, "Alright, let's amp up the stakes a bit. Never have I ever killed an animal."

Her eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure. "Oh, I have. Bugs, you know…"

"Yeah, me too." He paused. "Never have I ever fought someone in blind rage."

She hesitated. "Never."

He paused for a few moments, before murmuring, "Yeah, me neither."

"Never have I ever questioned the family history I was taught."

Michael blinked a few times, looking surprised. "Never."

She hesitated again. "I have," she admitted.

He frowned, before asking, "Never have I ever known a known murderer."

Cassandra tried to hide her surprise. "Never," she lied.

"Well, I have. That was the guy. Damon. It's why I've never really questioned my family history. Because it didn't seem necessary."

She paused. "Never have I ever…hurt someone to the point of sending them to the hospital."

His face remained passive. "Never."

"Never," she echoed.

"Never have I ever believed in mythical, fantastical monsters besides those of the kind we've seen in Townsville."

"That's pretty specific. Do you have something in mind?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had a feeling she knew what he was getting at, but she wanted confirmation.

"Well, you know. Vampires and werewolves and the like…"

She tried to keep her gaze with him steady as she replied, "Never." She needed him to think she was just a human girl.

He held her gaze as well as he nodded. "Never."

And she also knew that he needed her to think he was a human boy. "Never have I ever hated someone to the point of wanting to kill them."

"I have. Damon."

"I haven't."

"Never have I ever jumped someone."

She paused. "N-ever," she said slowly, faltering somewhat.

If he noticed, he didn't show it. "Not to anyone who didn't deserve it."

"Never have I ever shot a gun at a live target."

"I have. While hunting."

She was surprised he was willing to admit things that far. Did he assume that this specific piece of information was safe to tell her, whom he believed to be an oblivious human girl? She hesitated. "I have," she admitted quietly. "Also while hunting."

His eyes widened. "You've been hunting before?"

She nodded meekly. "A few times. Just with…extended family."

"Ah." He blinked, and she couldn't read the expression on his face. "Of course. I wasn't expecting that from you."

She swallowed, wondering if she'd said too much. "Never have I ever doubted you during this game."

He raised an eyebrow. "Never."

"Never."

"Never have I ever lied during this game."

She stared into his eyes. "Never," she very blatantly lied. She hated lying to him, but she knew she couldn't say the truth.

Not ever.

"Never," he echoed, seemingly agreeing with the thoughts in her head. And she knew he was lying too.

"What are you looking at?" Blossom asked drowsily, leaning against Brick.

He glanced down in surprise. "I thought you fell asleep," he murmured with a smile.

"Not yet." She yawned, rolling against him. "So what is it?"

"Nothing important." He set his phone down and kissed the top of her head. "Go to sleep, Blossie. You've had a long day, and you sound exhausted."

She stretched sleepily, shaking her head. "Not when you're still busy typing away at something and won't tell me what it is. You've piqued my curiosity, Brickie."

He smiled. "Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag then." He slightly pushed the holographic screen he'd been staring at towards her, causing her to perk up despite her tiredness.

"What's this?" she asked, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness of the screen. "It looks like…" She trailed off, squinting as her voice grew serious: "Is this data on some…man?"

Brick had turned serious too, now that he'd decided to share what he'd been studying with her. "Not just any man," he whispered softly, scrolling down just enough so as to reveal the name and photo of the person he'd been analyzing. "His name is Damon."

Blossom's eyes widened. While she herself recognized the name and the man, Brick didn't know she'd met him before, when she and her sisters had snuck into Damon's cabin. Her heart started beating faster almost immediately, as she begun wondering multiple things: Does he suspect I know? Has he decided to share with me his secrets now that I'm his girlfriend for sure again?

"Bloss, I…don't want to lose you a second time," he began saying, swallowing hard. "So I'm going to be more honest with you. And this is where I'm going to start.

"This man is Damon, an old acquaintance of mine. He was…like a third caretaker, almost. My brothers and I met him one day after a particularly brutal fight with you and the other Powerpuff Girls, and he nursed us to health. He helped us deal with…problems. Big problems. He helped us adapt. And we befriended him and his adopted son…Vix."

"Vix?" she repeated. The name seemed so familiar. Her mind flashed back to a cracked picture frame containing a photo of the Ruffs, Damon, and a boy with flaming red hair and an eyepatch over one eye…

Brick nodded. "Vix was almost like our seventh brother—an honourary brother, if you will. He was our playmate and friend. And then…" He sighed. "Bad things happened. Damon's cabin burned down when he was discovered by old friends who felt betrayed by him. And Vix was taken away from him—we all thought they were both dead… But Vix had been turned into a living weapon. And he became our enemy."

He turned to face her then, his eyes filled with sorrow. "And that's why I was so hostile when I first met Vincent. Because he looked so much like Vix."

"You thought…he was Vix in disguise?"

He nodded. "I think we all thought that at first. They were just so much alike…and yet so different. Vix was fun, loyal, and brave. But being used turned him bitter and cold. Yet Vincent is neither of those things. He's compassionate and charming, as proven by his effect—" He stopped himself. "A-Anyway, he's not Vix."

Blossom didn't need him to finish his sentence to know what he was implying: "as proven by his effect on you." She flushed red and turned away briefly, focusing again on the screen, where Damon's information flickered back at her. "So why tell me all this now?" she asked softly.

"Because I love you. I never want to lose you. And if I want that to be the case, I need to start being more honest with you." He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her, causing her to melt. "I don't want what happened between us to happen ever again."

She closed her eyes and sighed softly. "Me too," she murmured.

He gently rubbed her arm and smiled. "Besides, you might offer some insight on this entire mystery. I don't want to sound paranoid but I have a feeling that something's still off about all of this."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Damon has turned insane and is obviously not the good man he used to be, even though his past is also being put into question. Vix was his ward but was taken by his old-friends-turned-enemies, associates of Vincent's. And yet he's…so normal. It's like he's not involved in any of this at all, but that can't be true."

She blinked open her eyes. "What exactly is your definition of normal?" she asked incredulously.

He winced. "I know, I must sound like a paranoid nutcase—"

"No, no! I'm genuinely curious."

He hesitated, before sighing. "Not a monster, I guess."

"Well, that's easy. Vincent certainly isn't a monster—"

"No, Bloss…" He stared back at her, looking almost scared. "Monsters. The supernatural. As in…vampires."

Blossom's eyes widened.

The punch tasted too sweet.

Darkai lowered his gaze down into his cup, where his distorted reflection stared back at him from within the pinkish liquid. He closed his eyes and set it down, not wanting to see that dark gaze.

His own sadness was the last thing he wanted to see.

He remembered his last conversation with Bunny, and the faint sting of pain latched itself onto him once more. He could still see her hurt lavender eyes, could still hear the way her voice had risen.

"Darkai? You okay, buddy?"

He glanced up to see Ross watching him, his spring-green gaze glowing with concern. "I'm fine."

Ross didn't push for an answer, instead saying as he leaned against the table, "It's been a long week, huh?"

"Hm." Darkai nodded once.

"Yeah. I'm really tired." He rubbed his eyes. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Mm."

"What do you know about DJ's mom?"

This question caught even Darkai by surprise. His eyes widened somewhat, but he managed to regain his composure. "Lula. Met DJ Sr in Italy. Came from wealthy vampiric family. Favourite flower: the rose—especially of the red colour. Enjoyed the flavour of type B blood."

Ross smiled. "You definitely know more than I do." He was then quiet for awhile, before adding softly, "But that's just it. I'm starting to think all of that information we've been fed is—"

Darkai's phone vibrating in his suit pocket caught his attention. He pulled it out, expecting a call about a new target, so he was once again caught by surprise (two times in one night was certainly a rare occurrence) because it was Bunny calling.

"Excuse me," he murmured.

Ross nodded in understanding, but he looked rather pained at the fact that Darkai had to leave just as he was about to say what was on his mind.

Darkai moved into a quiet, private corner and picked up. "Hello?" his voice was more gruff than he'd intended.

"Darkai?" Bunny's meek voice answered.

He felt his shielded heart melt slightly despite knowing better. The fact that his moonbeam, his little Bunny, sounded so insecure in greeting him filled him with an emotion he wasn't entirely familiar with.

Pain? Regret? Sadness?

It was stronger than any form of sadness he'd felt before, and Darkai hated how vulnerable it made him feel.

"Bunny," he breathed.

"I wanted to talk to you," she explained. "I went and saw Bandit, and—"

He paused. "Bandit?"

She stopped as well. "Is…something wrong with that?"

He clamped down on his emotions. While not surging the way it would for some people, Darkai still hated how these feelings were beginning to stir within him. Was this jealousy he felt? "No, that's…fine."

Bunny hesitated. "Well, I went and talked to Bandit, and he offered a new perspective on our situation. I-I wanted to give you a chance to explain things. Bandit made me realize that if I want to be your girlfriend, I should be prepared for the good and the bad. And I should be willing to work with you through your problems and mine."

Darkai's head had begun throbbing. The almost intolerable music blaring around him suddenly sounded too loud, now actually intolerable, and Bunny's words jabbed at his brain like needles. "Bunny, I…" He trailed off.

She waited, but when he didn't continue, she asked, "Darkai? Are you okay?"

"Just…tired." He glanced back at the party, where people were chatting and laughing and dancing and partying, their volume suddenly unbearable. "I'm sorry, my brain is…rather scattered at the moment…"

"Is that…music?" she asked. He could hear the disbelief and surprise in her voice. "Darkai, are you at a party?"

"It's a family celebration…Michael's family," he murmured back, his head still refusing to stop spinning. He rubbed his temples, trying to clear away the clamour inside his mind. "Bunny, I'm sorry. I really can't speak right now. It's just far too loud. I'll call you back as soon as I can; I promise."

"Darkai, wait—!"

He pressed the hang up button half-heartedly, his hand losing strength. He took a deep breath and stared out at the party, trying to ignore the pain spreading from his head to his limbs.

He tried to ignore the pain pricking at his heart.

And Darkai closed his eyes, feeling the whirlpool inside his mind pull him far away from the loud noise outside and the louder pain inside.

Meanwhile, after Darkai hung up on her, Bunny was left feeling lost and confused. She'd been so ready to work on their relationship, and yet she hadn't been prepared to be shut down so soon.

She drew her knees to her chest and stared out at her room, wondering what she was doing wrong. She doubted Darkai had turned her away on purpose—he sounded genuinely exhausted.

If Bunny had been one of her sisters, she would've been filled with determination to go find her boyfriend and make sure he was okay, as well as demand he take her feelings seriously. But Bunny wasn't one of her sisters, and her social anxiety made such an idea terrifying.

She sighed and fiddled with one of the stuffed rabbits on her bed.

"Do I not know him as well as I thought I did?" she wondered aloud. "I mean…he's at a party of all places. And sure, he did say it was his friend hosting, but still…" She sighed before flopping onto the bed, lifting the toy rabbit up into the air.

"Mopsy, do you think I'm doing something wrong? Maybe I don't know my boyfriend at all."

She hugged the black bunny to her chest and rolled over, her brow furrowed. "He's not as open to me as I expected, and now he's less asocial than I expected…"

Bunny was silent for a long while, then she pulled her phone out again. She kept hesitating, her thumb lingering over Darkai's number, so she finally gave up and scrolled upwards instead, until she reached Bandit's number.

And this time, she didn't hesitate before she pressed "call".

"Bunny…?" Bandit's quiet voice picked up almost immediately, barely above a whisper.

"Bandit…I'm having second thoughts," she mumbled.

He seemed to jerk to attention. "About what? What did Darkai do?"

"N-Nothing!" she said quickly. She didn't want to antagonize Darkai any more in Bandit's eyes, especially since she knew he didn't really like the other boy. "I-I'm just being silly. My nerves are just getting in the way."

Bandit was quiet for quite awhile, and Bunny wondered if he'd gone away. "Bandit…?"

"You're not being silly," he finally said, his tone soft.

Something about the way he said it sent shivers down her spine. "I'm…I'm not?" She wanted to hit herself for the stupefied answer.

"No. Everyone's nerves get the best of them." He paused. "Mine too."

Bunny managed a smile. "Even the tough, hard-hearted Bandit can have doubts despite his determination?"

He seemed to smile as well. "Even me."

"And what do you do in situations like that?" she asked, kicking her legs upwards into the air. She was still smiling, almost shyly. "How do you handle your nervousness?"

"By kicking their butt, obviously."

She giggled despite herself.

He chuckled as well, before saying, "Well, I guess I listen to music. That helps. Or talk to animals."

She nodded. "That certainly helps me." She rubbed Flopsy's head, imagining the soft fur of a rabbit beneath her fingertips. She felt comforted now, a warm feeling that touched her heart gently. "What are you up to right now?"

"Conquering those very nerves." Bunny heard the twang of a guitar as he played a string.

She sat up. "You're playing music?"

"Writing, actually," he mumbled, sounding embarrassed.

"Can I hear?" she asked gently.

He was quiet, and she was afraid she'd scared him off.

"Y-You don't have to, of course—"

And before she finished her sentence, the gentle sound of the guitar and the soothing sound of Bandit's voice drifted into the air.

"I'm afraid of so many things, of the darkness that this world brings—

I'm scared of hate and pain and love and fate,

And maybe this is my fate, maybe it's too late,

I'm just playing, playing oh oh, a game of pretend,

And maybe this is the end,

And I've been so afraid,

Because the world out there is dark and cold,

Refusing to stop for anyone, or so I've been told,

And I've been told to be afraid,

But here within your arms it's warm and safe,

So don't worry, oh sweetheart of mine,

I will hold you until the end of time~

Because with you I'm less afraid,

And my bunny, I will keep you safe,

And I will love you even after the world ends.

I'm less afraid of the things that stand in our way when you're here with me,

I'm ready for whatever the storm sends.

Sweetheart, I'm afraid of so many things, of feeling black and blue,

And maybe I'm even afraid of love, of loving you,

But I feel it less when I'm by your side,

Got nothing to hide,

And now I can say,

That I love you, I love you, I love you."

Bunny's eyes were wide throughout the entire performance, and she buried her face in Flopsy as she felt a surge of warmth spread through her chest like the wings of a phoenix.

Bandit finished the rest of the lyrics and strummed the last note before asking, "So…what do you think?"

"That was amazing," she mumbled, her voice muffled by Flopsy.

"Sorry…?"

"That was amazing," she repeated, lifting her head so that her words would be clearer. But even then, her voice trembled.

"Th-Thank you. I'm glad you think so."

"Bandit…" She hesitated. "The song mentioned…a bunny?"

"Oh, that. Errr…" He turned quiet for a few seconds, before laughing, but it sounded forced. "I guess I was thinking of animals, since I wrote it around while hanging out at the sanctuary. I was stroking a bunny, and I thought about how they're vulnerable little critters, so I wrote that lyric…l-like a metaphor, I guess—the idea that I'd protect her from whatever predator. It's a little silly, huh?"

"No, I think it's perfect." Her cheeks felt warm, but she was still smiling. She didn't know if the lyric could've been for her, but it made the song resonate with her that much more. "Bandit, I just wanted to say a quick thank you."

He seemed surprised. "For what?"

"For making me feel better. I don't feel that bundle of nerves rolling around within me as much anymore. I feel…better. Comforted." She smiled, stroking Flopsy again. "Confident, even."

He didn't reply right away, but when he did, she could just imagine the gentle smile on his face. "I'm glad," he murmured.

"I just had one more question," she said. She then held her breath and waited in anticipation for his answer.

"Yes?"

"Who is the she in your song?" she asked quietly.

"You okay?" Sidney asked.

Sophia looked up. His eyes were shining with concern, and he had his brow furrowed. She smiled back nervously. "Big events like these still make me nervous."

"Really? Even after you've become so bold?"

Sophia laughed slightly, despite still feeling uneasy. "Everyone keeps saying that, but I can't seem to feel the difference."

Sidney smiled. "You need an outsider to be able to see the difference."

"So it seems." She looked down. "I guess I can handle small things. People I know. Just not these big, giant events."

"I'll take care of you," he promised.

"Thanks." She smiled.

He moved closer to her, leaning against the dessert table. "I actually handle these better," he explained. "One-on-one feels like a confrontation. At least here I can blend in."

A woman passing by smiled and curtsied at them. They returned the gesture.

Sophia turned to him as the woman left, having spotted Christie. "You were saying?"

"Well, I can blend in relatively." He smiled back. "But that's a lot easier than holding a full-blown conversation."

"You're doing fine now," she teased.

"That's because it's with you. You're an old friend. I'm comfortable around you." He glanced out at the crowd. "Any of these other guests and I'd probably want to cry midway into the conversation."

"Aww, you poor soul. We wouldn't want that."

"No." He stared down into his drink of blood for awhile, before quietly asking, "I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

"What? No!" Sophia turned to him and frowned. "Why on Earth would you think that?"

His shoulders were shaking. "I'm like a mouse. So scared and weak…"

She shook her head. "You're a bat. You know it. One of the best there is," she said firmly.

"I'm more like a fruit bat. Harmless."

"Well, they're cute, at least. I love the Honduran white bat. They're like little marshmallows." Sophia took out her phone and quickly searched them up. She held it out to him. "See?"

He managed to crack a smile. "They are pretty cute."

"Right?" She smiled back at him reassuringly. "Sidney, listen to me. You're not weak or lesser just because you're a little more gentle than the other guys. I like that about you. I like that a lot. You're kind and patient and understanding…" She glanced back down at her phone. "And you're still strong. You might not realize it yet, but you'll see."

"Thanks, Sophia."

"Hey, no problem." She tapped her phone. "Maybe you're more like the ghost bat. They call it the false vampire bat, but it's the silent and deadly type. It actually hunts and feeds on prey, unlike the Honduran white bat. And its wings look ghostly in the night because of its thin membrane. So it's a little unassuming because of its whitish-gray fur, but it's still pretty badass."

"That's actually a really sweet comparison. Thanks again." He smiled. "You sure know a lot about bats."

"I like studying them. They're part of our heritage, after all." She poked him playfully in the chest. "When you turn into a bat creature, do you turn into something like the ghost bat?"

"I guess I do. I have grayish tannish fur, and I've always just assumed it was me screwing up again because I couldn't quite blend into the night. My sister's a total vampire bat."

"Well, there you have it. You're a ghost bat." Sophia smiled. "Maybe not a perfect ghost bat, since we kind of morph into bat-like creatures more than an actual bat, but close enough."

"Yeah, I guess so." He smiled. "And what about you? What do you turn into?"

"Maybe something like an Eastern Red Bat. An insectivore. Not totally dangerous, but enough."

"I guess that seems right. Speaking of red bats, you know flying foxes? They look kind of scary, but they're sweet fruit bats, right?"

"Right."

"So I think that would be Vix if he were a bat. If he were an animal, he'd totally be a fox, so it seems about right to me. Scary on the outside, but gentler on the inside."

Sophia nodded slowly, before asking, "You guys certainly care about Vix a lot. Any reason?"

"I mean, he's our friend."

"But he's definitely not like us."

"He doesn't have to be. We're all different from each other anyway."

"And he used to be Damon's ward."

"Damon treated him well."

"He has trouble renouncing Damon."

"It's not his fault. Danes did rip him from the only father he's ever really remembered."

"He's kind of rude."

"He's sweet once you get to know him. He's a good friend."

"But Damon himself isn't a good man."

"No, but he was still Vix's dad. His real parents died in a fire after their car got totaled years ago."

"Oh. I didn't know that." Sophia became quiet, staring out at the crowd of people dancing and laughing. "It must be hard for him then."

"It is. He still has nightmares. It's hard for him to admit it, but we can always tell." Sidney took a sip of his drink. "Vix is a good friend, if not a good kid. But even then, it's really not his fault. Everyone mistreats and distrusts him, and he's treated as a living weapon. That's all the value assigned to him. He's just lonely and sad and because of all that, he can be a little rough and distrustful as well."

"I guess that's why I've never gotten close to him," she mused aloud. "I never liked the crass, cocky guys. I always like guys more like you. Gentler."

Sidney blushed. "I-I mean, Vix is gentle too. Just a little hard to get to his soft side. He's like a marshmallow hiding inside of a cactus."

"That description does fit a flying fox." She smiled at him. "I probably really shouldn't judge. I never got to know him the way you did."

"I can introduce you sometime. He's really nice, I promise."

"Oh, I don't doubt that. At least, not when you're the one saying it."

Sidney blinked, surprised at the compliment. "You think of me as honest?"

She nodded. "To be fair, it's pretty easy to read your emotions."

He smiled back sheepishly. "I'm not good at hiding my feelings."

"I think it's a good thing. Don't worry about it; so many guys feel the need to bottle their feelings up, it's refreshing to meet someone as open as you are."

"I'll definitely keep that in mind now." Sidney glanced out at the crowd.

"Honesty is the best policy," she agreed. She paused then, sighing. "And if I were to be honest, i just don't feel comfortable here. It's still a social event, despite everything. Despite…you keeping me company."

"You want to go?" he asked. He wished that she didn't. He knew it was selfish, but it felt nice having someone by his side.

Sophia paused, before nodding a little. "Just a bit."

"Oh." His shoulders sagged, but he forced himself to smile. "It's alright. I'll get my dad to arrange a ride for you…"

"No, no, that's really not necessary. I can fly back fine on my own. It's okay." Sophia waved her hands quickly. "I really don't want to be a bother."

"It wouldn't bother me at all," Sidney replied.

"I-I'll be fine. I'll just fly back," she insisted. "I just have to tell my dad."

"Okay, but I'll escort you back, at the very least." Sidney put down his drink on a tray as a butler walked past, and immediately transformed into a bat. He turned to Sophia. "Ready to go?"

She stared back at him, before smiling. She transformed as well, and flew over to poke him playfully on the snout with her wingtip. "You're totally a ghost bat. I knew it."

He smiled in amusement, flapping his wings to stay in midair. "Alright, so you know me better than I know myself. I hope you enjoy rubbing it in."

She grinned back, her eyes twinkling. "Oh, you bet I will." She did a twirl before flying off.

Sidney felt warmth in his chest and in his face as he followed close behind. The two stopped before Sophia's father, and after a quick explanation, he offered to go home as well.

"No, it's okay, Dad! You should stay. You know how Mrs. Hawthorne can be," Sophia replied. She glanced back at Sidney, who was lingering behind her. "Besides, I'll have Sidney with me. I'll be alright."

"Okay, sweetheart. If you say so," he replied, giving Sidney a knowing look. The boy blushed and looked away, while Mike Carson let his daughter perch briefly on his finger so that he could give her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you back home. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." She smiled.

And with that, the goodbyes were finished, and the two friends spun into the air. Sophia laughed as she flapped her wings. "This is honestly so much better than that stuffy party! It was kind of fun, but it was also just a lot."

"Yeah," he agreed softly, smiling. "I suppose this freedom is nice."

She turned to him in surprise. "Do you not usually go out on long flights during the night?"

He shook his head. "I'm more of an indoors person. And well…" He glanced up at the sky, where the moon shone down at them. "I guess I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat—afraid of the dark." He paused, hesitating, but when he faced Sophia again, there was kindness in her eyes and not judgement—so he opened up: "Afraid of being alone."

She smiled comfortingly, flying over to nudge him with her wingtip. "Then you don't have to be alone," she promised. "I'll go on night-flights with you."

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling a little bit.

"Yeah, as long as it's not too late in the night." She winked. "Even nocturnal creatures need some sleep."

"That makes no sense without context," he laughed.

"True, but vampires are forced to adhere to regular human schedules, so what can you do?" she giggled back.

He smiled—something he noticed he was doing a lot more of than usual around her. "You know, Sophia, I…I never expected this."

She blinked in surprise. "Expected what?"

Sidney blushed as he realized what he'd just done, but it was too late to backtrack now. "I-I was expecting our reunion to be a lot more awkward," he admitted, "but it's actually really natural. It…It feels like barely any time has passed at all. I…haven't felt this comfortable around others in a long, long time, especially because this war has put everyone and me so on edge."

She paused. "It doesn't feel different?" she asked.

He paused, furrowing his brow. "Different from what?"

"Nothing." Sophia's smile was small, but not strong. "I guess I'm pretty detached from the war, so hanging out with me means you get to be pretty detached too, huh?"

That's not exactly what I meant. The atmosphere seemed a little different though, and Sidney wondered what he'd said wrong. "I guess so," he murmured softly.

Sophia said nothing in response, but her mind was ringing. I guess you don't really remember anymore, since there is something about all of this that is different…

The two soon arrived at Sidney's house, and they entered awkwardly. It felt like there should've been a goodbye, but the two were currently living in the same house.

"Well, I'll umm…see you later then," Sophia said.

"Yeah. I'll see you later," he replied.

Sophia smiled before flying into her room, where she transformed back into a human and promptly flopped down on her bed, sighing to herself.

It was only then, after she had left Sidney, that she realized when talking about Vix, she'd said "I always like guys more like you"—guys more like Sidney.

Flushing red, she buried her face in one of her stuffed animals, letting out a very quiet, very muffled shout. Then she let all her limbs become loose as she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows above her.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed in that position, with no clear passage of time, but her phone vibrating drew her out of her thoughts. Surprised, considering the only people who really messaged her nowadays was her father, Sidney and his family, and occasionally some of the other vampires now that she was back. She was still new at school though, which meant she didn't really have many friends and that she didn't know many of her classmates.

To her further surprise, they were texts from one of those very classmates. It was from Bubbles.

"'Can I ask you something?'"

She frowned, blinking as she processed the message and all its possible meanings. Her social anxiety spiked as her heart started pounding, while she typed out a reply. She then deleted it and tried again, before deleting that as well.

Sighing, she decided to leave it for the moment. She went to browse the web for awhile, but her mind couldn't escape from Bubbles' message.

It seemed to be the same case for Bubbles as well, because she sent another: "'I know you read my text. What were you going to say?'"

Sophia silently cursed the modern texting apps and their obsession with letting other people know when someone was online and available and reading all your messages. She sighed, finding her resolve and typing out her reply.

She hesitated for a minute, before finally pressing send, while waiting for a reply with baited breath.

"'Okay, I did see it. Just wasn't sure what to make of it. What do you want to talk about?'"

The reply came soon: "'It's about Sidney.'"

That was not a reply she'd been expecting. Even more embarrassed and awkward now, Sophia typed back, "'What about him and why?'"

"'You know I was his girlfriend, right?'"

"'Yes…'" Sophia didn't add what she was thinking: keyword "was".

"'I miss him a lot.'"

"'You could…always talk to him. I'm sure Sidney would like that.'"

She was silent for awhile, until she sent "'I've hurt him enough.'"

Sophia was surprised Bubbles was willing to admit this. "'But that doesn't mean you can't work things out still. Sidney cares about you. I can see it in the way he talks about you. It doesn't have to end here.'"

"'I guess that's true. Sidney always was a sweetheart.'"

Sophia frowned, but she wasn't sure why. Bubbles was certainly making her nervous, but was there something else about this that bothered her? "'He's always been this way.'"

"'Even during his childhood, huh?'"

"'Yes.'"

"'He's so sweet…and nice, and patient… And he has that soft, fluffy pinkish-brown hair and those large eyes…'"

"'That's him, yes.'" Sophia felt uncomfortable. Bubbles was opening up to her, but the two of them weren't even that close.

"'And his hands are so small and soft and gentle, especially when he lightly caresses your cheek… He's just so loving. He always gives such soft butterfly kisses, like he's scared of upsetting you.'"

Sophia's stomach twisted in discomfort. "'Are you just texting me to talk about how great Sidney is?'"

"'You've noticed too, haven't you?'"

"'Noticed what?'"

"'The dimple in his left cheek when he smiles. The way his eyes light up and look almost pink under the sunlight. How he always swallows when he's nervous. How his freckles look like constellations.'"

Sophia hesitated. She had noticed these things, but she wondered what it meant. She was Sidney's childhood friend. Bubbles was his ex-girlfriend. The two of them knew a lot about him, but they knew different things as well. They didn't share the same relationship, and yet some of the signs were so similar… "'Yes, I suppose I have. He's always had the softest smile, but when he grins big, you can see the dimple better. And his laugh sounds like twinkling music. His eyes glow like they're being lit up by stars, and his freckles are like sprinkles across his pale skin. And when he's nervous, he doesn't just swallow, but he always fiddles with his baggy sleeves and hides his hands inside them.'"

"'You certainly know a lot about him.'"

Embarrassed, Sophia typed back, "'I would hope so, considering our past together.'"

"'Well, you're right. Although I haven't really ever been able to make him laugh.'"

"'You can always tell when he's totally comfortable around you. He laughs and grins more.'"

Bubbles' reply took longer this time. "'I guess he never got fully comfortable around me then.'"

"'I didn't mean that…'"

"'It's alright. I guess we just know different parts of him. I know how gently he can kiss or how he likes to rub your hand if he's holding it. How he likes hugs and cuddles, although he's shy and sometimes doesn't want to snuggle.'"

Relieved, Sophia texted, "'Yes, that's very true. We just know different sides of him.'"

"'Do you think you know him best of all?'"

"'Of course not. That honour probably goes to his family and best friends.'"

"'Right. But do you think you know him better than I do?'"

She hesitated. "I…don't know.'"

"'But you do know him quite well, right?'"

"'I'd like to think so.'"

"'Then could you tell me something?'"

She was hesitating again. "'Alright.'"

"'Does he really seem to still care about me?'"

"'You know how he is. He cares about everybody; even those that have hurt him.'"

More silence. Then a simple "'yeah.'" Sophia thought it was over. She got ready to leave the awkward conversation at, until Bubbles continued: "'you two are really close.'"

"'I've known him for a long time.'"

"'You two must share a very special bond then.'"

"'Well, you know, we were good friends during childhood.'"

Silence followed, causing Sophia to wonder if she'd done something wrong. But then Bubbles replied with "'just good friends?'"

"'Just good friends.'"

"'And nothing more?'"

Sophia stared back at the screen, wondering what Bubbles was getting at. "'I'd assume so. We've always just been pretty good friends. I don't think our relationship has ever run any deeper than that.'"

"'But you do care about him.'"

"'Of course.'"

"'And he cares about you.'"

"'I would assume so, yes. That's what friends do.'"

"'But you don't think he cares deeply about you?'"

Sophia furrowed her brow as some of her walls started going up. "'I told you. He cares about everyone.'"

"'Not what I meant.'"

She stared at the text for a long time, before finally sending, "'Is this an interrogation from a jealous ex?'" She knew it was a bold move, but she felt compelled to say it. She felt almost defensive, as if her mind was shouting, I'm allowed to have any relationship with Sidney I want! Why should it concern you?

"'Just curious.'"

"'Yet you're not jealous?'"

Silence. Then Bubbles replied, "'You and Sidney just give off those vibes, you know?'"

"'What vibes?'"

It once again took awhile before she texted back, "'The vibes that you're a couple.'" Sophia could just imagine the blond Powerpuff Girl staring at her phone, thinking, Duh!

"'So what now? You're going to be the jealous, possessive ex-girlfriend?'" Sophia asked when Bubbles got too aggressive.

"'Ouch,'" she said in response, before sending another message: "'I thought you were a shy girl.'"

"'I thought so too, but I guess I've grown.'"

Bubbles didn't reply for quite awhile after that, and while Sophia watched the top of her screen for notifications, she assumed that was the end. She went about her normal routine, visiting random apps and browsing the web.

So imagine her even further surprise when she saw the notification bubble appear that said Bubbles had finally texted back: "'That's a good thing.'"

After reading it, Sophia felt herself relax as she finally let herself breathe again. Phew. I guess that's what Sidney meant when he said one-on-one conversations are a confrontation.

But to her furthest surprise, Bubbles sent one last text:

"'I guess I should grow too.'"

Banana had left the Rowdyruff Boys' house feeling like an emptied, hollowed-out shell. After she'd left Braker alone in Blaster's room, she'd found Blossom, wanting to tell her that she was ready to go home.

But then she saw how happy Blossom and Brick were together, and she realized that she didn't want to burst her sister's bubble. So Banana had stayed behind, waiting patiently and yet awkwardly as Blossom and Brick worked together.

It was soon 5:00, and Blossom had fallen asleep beside Brick. Banana glanced at them through the slightly opened door of Brick's room, and she could see him typing away on a holographic screen.

She sighed to herself before turning away and floating back downstairs to the living room, where she'd been sitting before. She smoothed down her dress and sat back down, still feeling awkward and overly conscious of the world around her.

"Hey."

Jumping, she spun around and saw that Braker had floated down to greet her. She forced herself to relax. "Hey."

"You okay?" Braker asked, sitting down beside her. He offered an awkward smile, fiddling with his thumbs. "I know you said you'd rather not say anything, but you also didn't exactly decline my offer. I'm still willing to listen if you want to talk."

"Thank you, but I…I don't really want to talk," she murmured, glancing away. The tears were already threatening to fall, and she hated herself for her weakness.

Braker was quiet for awhile, but she soon felt his arms wrap around her.

"What are you—?"

"Shhh. Let me be a good friend and love you," he insisted.

Despite her pain, Banana found herself smiling slightly. She patted his head. "Okay, okay. You can let go now."

He obeyed her and pulled away, grinning. "Do you feel better?"

"A little. Thanks." She smiled back as she wiped her eyes with her hand.

"Are you willing to say something now?"

She hesitated, pausing with her hand still in midair.

"You don't have to, of course, but I really do think it'll help make you feel better," he added quickly, obviously sensing her doubt.

Banana sighed and closed her eyes, lowering her hand. "If I do tell you, promise you won't hate me after?"

"Why would I ever hate you?"

"Because after I tell you this story, you're going to think I'm a detestable human being."

"Banana, listen to me." He grabbed her hands, causing her eyes to flutter open as she stared back at his intense orange gaze. "You are not detestable. There was only ever once I could count as 'hating' you, but that was when we were enemies. You were a villain, but you redeemed yourself."*

She shook her head. "I don't think I've ever redeemed myself."

"Don't undermine your hard work. You're a good person, Banana."

She sighed. "I appreciate the thought, but I...really am not the good person you think I am. I did something really, really horrible, Braker. And it's something unforgivable."

"If you're not going to tell me, I'm going to keep insisting you're a good person."

Banana squeezed her eyes shut. "I kissed Blaster while I was still dating Michael in front of him."

Braker suddenly let go of her hands. When she was faced with only silence, she blinked open her eyes in fear. He was staring at her, his expression unreadable. He then asked in a very quiet voice, "Why?"

She winced. "I-I'm not sure," she admitted. "Maybe I was jealous of him and Christie. But my time away has made me realize that my feelings for Michael aren't as strong anymore, and I…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. What I did is inexcusable."

"Maybe so, but…" Braker pulled his legs in so that he could sit cross-legged on the couch, staring down at the coffee table. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you're a bad person."

"I'm a horrible person, Braker! I kissed Blaster without his consent when I was still dating someone else, and that someone was right there in the room!"

He grimaced. "Okay, yeah, it's pretty bad." He looked up at her then, his gaze gentle. "But it sounds to me like your feelings just changed."

"I played them both."

"Humans aren't perfect, Banana." Braker twisted a tassel from the pillow beside him in his hand. "We're such flawed, terrible beings sometimes. And we all make mistakes. Some worse than others. But you don't have to let them define you. You can grow from those mistakes." He tugged on the tassel. "You're only human, after all."

"I'm not a human," she said in a small voice, drawing her legs to her chest. "I'm a monster."

Braker closed his eyes and let out a small chuckle. "I know a thing or two about being a monster." He let the tassel go. "And I also know a thing or two about being simply human, with our stupid, flawed logic." He offered a comforting smile. "Do you know how badly I've wanted to kiss Bliss? Because I fell for her. I'm so tempted to express my feelings for her the way I want to, even when she still had that stupid DJ as a boyfriend. I want to take her from him."

"But that's completely normal. What I did was not," Banana replied.

"I guess so." Braker rubbed the back of his head. "But it still doesn't mean you're a terrible human being just because you made one mistake. And I'm sure Blaster will see that in time. He'll come around—he's just angry right now."

"And he has every right to be."

"But that doesn't mean forgiveness is impossible. We know you, Banana. We've known you for years. And we know you're a good person."

She turned to face him, and he stared back at her, completely serious. She managed another smile. "Thanks, Braker."

He grinned. "No problem."

She giggled a bit, punching him lightly. "I never expected to hear such wise words coming from you, of all people."

"Hey, what can I say? I've grown a lot as a person these past few days."

"Because of Bliss?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the front door opened. Both of the two friends froze, turning to stare at the door.

Familiar sunshine hair poked inside the house, and soon the person walked inside.

Banana felt her breath leave her throat, causing her to gulp.

Blaster was home.

He looked up just then, seemingly just noticing that he wasn't alone, and he immediately became still.

"Hey, Blaster, buddy!" Braker got up to welcome his brother, but stopped in his tracks when Blaster spoke.

"What is she still doing here?" he asked, his voice unreadable.

Banana winced.

Braker jumped in to save her. "Ah, well, Blossom's still here with Brick, you see! So Banana can't leave yet—"

He glanced between the two of them. "Alright, fine. I'll be in my room." He turned to fly up the stairs, but Braker stopped him.

"Hey, bud, let's not be rude." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Why can't you talk to her properly?"

Blaster's eyes flashed. "I'll talk to someone properly when they deserve it."

Braker frowned. "What's your problem?"

"My problem is what she did! Do you have any idea what—"

"I know. She told me." Braker stared his brother dead in the eye. "And I think she deserves a second chance."

Blaster stared back at him incredulously, before saying, "What, did she make it sound less worse than it actually is? Is that why you're pushing for this?"

"No."

"So whose side are you on, anyway?"

"I'm an outsider looking in." His voice was very solemn, which was so unlike Braker it was clear he meant his words. "You should've heard how badly she deprecated herself for her actions. It's clear she's guilty and regrets what she did. Don't you think she deserves a second chance then?"

Blaster glanced back at her, finally getting a good look at her after so long of trying to avoid her. He was only now seeing just how stringy her hair looked and how red her eyes were. She was completely avoiding their gazes. Was the puffiness of her eyes because she'd been crying so much?

"Look at how much she's beat herself up over this. It's clear she feels awful about what she did." Braker glanced back at him. "And the Blaster I know would go to her and give her a second chance. Where is that Blaster?"

He was silent for a long time, before muttering, "I've had a bad few days."

Braker snorted. "Evidently." He shoved his brother toward Banana. "Go. Reconcile. Because you guys both deserve a second chance."

He shot Braker a glare as he stumbled forwards, but when he turned back to Banana and saw her lift her head towards him, a part of him pitied her. Her bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks were a clear sign of someone engulfed in so much sadness.

Blaster coughed, before sitting down across from her. "Banana."

She didn't reply, instead looking back down.

He sighed, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the ceiling. "I went and saw Christie."

Silence.

"And you know what she told me, when I told her I liked her back? She admitted she had begun feeling conflicted after her capture because she'd been forced to spend time with Vix, who she grew closer to during their trials and tribulations. She was confused about her feelings, kind of like how you were." When he looked down at Banana, she'd buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders were trembling. "But she knew what the right thing to do was, so she did something that I appreciated a lot, even though it hurt somewhat."

Banana looked up slightly.

Blaster stared back at her as he finished quietly, "She decided we shouldn't move forward in case she might hurt me in the future."

His counterpart stared down at her lap, still shaking as her lips quivered.

He sighed, glancing back at Braker, who raised both his eyebrows and gave him a look that said "go on!" So he turned back to her. "I—"

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, causing him to stop. She looked away, blinking as tears started flowing from her eyes. "I'm so, so sorry," she whispered brokenly, before burying her face in her hands. She was bawling now, her shoulders shaking as she tried to wipe away her tears—but they came too fast. "I-I know you hate me, and I-I don't expect you to forgive me, ever, b-but I'm just so, so sorry for what I did… And I just wanted you to know that I regret it so much and that even I think I'm such a horrible, horrible human being. I-I'm a monster."

Blaster felt his heart ache as the walls he'd built up began trembling. Pity seeped in through the cracks. "Banana…"

"I-It's okay. You deserve to hate me. And I deserve your hate." She looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I-I hate myself just as much, if not more."

He hesitated, feeling awful now. He hated how he was suddenly the villain, and how despite everything, Banana was still showing her morales. "Don't say that," he finally managed to say, his voice quiet. It broke near the end as he continued: "I don't hate you."

"But you have every right to." She sniffled, wiping her eyes. "You don't have to forgive me, because I don't deserve it. I did something so hurtful and horrible to you and—"

"Banana." Blaster shook his head. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were horrible. Because you aren't. Your inability to forgive yourself proves it." He sighed. "You made one mistake, but as demonstrated by your regret, it doesn't make you a bad person."

Banana glanced at Braker, who smiled and gave her a comforting nod that said "I told you!"

"In fact, I've been a pretty bad person for not giving you another chance. You're not someone unforgivable. What you did wasn't great, yes, but you still deserve a second chance. Because you're not a bad person."

"Blaster, I…"

"When it comes to your feelings, I know you're confused. So you can figure that out over time. But right now, let's try and be friends again, okay?" He held his hand out.

She stared at it in what seemed to be disbelief.

"But first"—and he pulled his hand back slightly—"you have to also try and forgive yourself, okay?"

Banana was still for a few moments, before smiling a small, tentative smile and taking his hand. "Okay," she agreed quietly. The two shook on it, and when they let go, Banana sniffled and wiped her eyes again. "Thank you. I'll be sure to make this up to you somehow."

Blaster felt his cheeks warm and he glanced away, spotting Braker in the corner of his eye.

The orange Ruff was approaching with a grin, his arms spread open. When he reached them, he wrapped his arms around both of them, beaming as he said, "See? Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Blaster grunted in response, rolling his eyes, while Banana smiled a small smile. Braker continued to hug them, with Blaster lifted higher while Banana's head rested near his chest. When Blaster had finally had enough, he sighed and muttered, "Let go or I'll kill you."

In response, Braker just squeezed them tighter and smiled wider.

"Dad." DJ kept his voice low, trying not let his emotions seep in. Even then, he couldn't meet his father's eyes, and his voice had a hollow, metallic ring to it.

"DJ…" His father sighed and reached out, causing the boy to flinch. But then he stood his ground and DJ Sr gently stroked his dark hair. "Are you okay? You seem to be so upset lately."

"I'm fine." He shook his father off, before finally meeting his eyes. "And we're not here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you."

DJ Sr grimaced. "I wanted to talk about family."

"And that's you, isn't it? Besides Uncle Slicer, without Mom, who else is left?" he asked, almost sarcastically.

DJ Sr hesitated. "Well…there are…certain things making this family…" He trailed off.

"Making this family what?" DJ asked sharply. When his father didn't reply, he muttered, "You know what I've noticed? I've never met anyone else from my mother's side of the family. But I know about you and Uncle Slicer, and your mom and dad. So why don't I know anything about Mom's family?"

DJ Sr's eyes widened.

Hook, line, and sinker. I've got him now. DJ pushed further, taking his dad's surprise as a sign that he was closer to getting to the bottom of this. "Did you even meet Mom in Italy?"

Now his father looked horrified, his olive skin suddenly pale. He looked more like a deer caught in the headlights than a bat.

"I knew it!" DJ cried accusingly. "You two didn't meet in Italy at all."

"DJ, I-I can explain—"

He jabbed at his father's chest. "What is there to explain? Don't think I've forgotten about that time when you took us to nonno's Dancing Bat and Wolf club and you told me about that woman you dated called Ruby."**

DJ Sr drew in a sharp breath.

"You've always been a womanizing flirt—willing to date anyone—or should I say anything." He grabbed the ruby necklace his father was wearing. "Even animals."

His father swallowed. "DJ, they were still people like us. If you already know, then you must have realized…"

"I only want to know one thing." He met his dad's eyes. "There was a woman I met with Harry and Sampson. Tell me, Dad. Is that woman my real mom?"

All of the fear vanished from DJ Sr's face as confusion set in. "What…?"

"Is she my real mom?" he demanded, louder this time. "She seemed to know who I was, and Harry got mad when I said I didn't know her. Did you cheat on Mom?"

"DJ, no, no!" his father said quickly, looking saddened. "How could you even think such a thing?"

"I don't know. You're not exactly known for not being a flirt," DJ muttered back, crossing his arms.

DJ Sr shook his head. "But you know I'm not that kind of person. I…I just didn't expect this question."

He looked up at his father, and while knowing his dad had just shot down this possibility, he still wanted complete and utter confirmation. "So…she isn't my mom?"

He shook his head, smiling a weak smile despite himself. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Humph." DJ glanced away, now feeling awkward. "So I really am Lula's child?"

"Yes." He reached out and stroked his son's face, before smiling again—this time, a little wider. "You have my eyes and you have her nose. You are the perfect blend between us both."

DJ placed his hand over his father's, which was still caressing his cheek. He closed his eyes, unable to stare into the icy-blue of his father's gaze, because it was like staring at himself. "So who was that woman?" he asked quietly.

"DJ… I-I'll admit she is someone important to this family," his father sighed, pulling him into a hug. "Someone—"

His phone rang just then, causing DJ Sr to pause. "We'll speak later," he promised. Then he had to pull away and pick up, murmuring into the phone, "Pronto."

DJ watched as his father turned away.

"Non potevi prenderli?" he muttered. "Che palle!"

DJ sighed and walked away.

Later, when DJ Sr had gotten that issue all sorted out, he turned back around to continue his conversation with his son, but found that he was missing. He immediately felt a sense of foreboding, causing him to head to the nearest buoy in such treacherous waters.

When he saw that buoy, he let out a sigh of relief. "Danes!" he called softly, grabbing the other man by the shoulder.

The larger man turned around, his gray eyes reflecting DJ Sr's blue. "How did it go?" he murmured.

"Not well." He swallowed. "I thought he'd figured it out, but instead…" He glanced around, before leaning in close to whisper the news to Danes.

Danes' face showed a brief sign of surprise, which was rather unlike him. "That would…certainly be interesting news, if you dated her as well."

"That would be awkward news," DJ Sr muttered back.

Danes glanced down at the ruby necklace the other man was wearing. "Your son has a point though. Why are you still wearing that necklace?"

He grinned. "What? You jealous?"

"No." Danes' face returned to stone.

DJ Sr chuckled, wrapping his arm around his companion's shoulder. "Don't worry, Danesy. You're still my favourite."

"Humph." Danes glanced at DJ Sr, and his gaze softened. He leaned in closer.

Later, when they separated, DJ Sr smiled as he smoothed down his hair. "Thanks, Danesy. I needed that." He frowned then. "I'm not sure where DJ ran off to. And whether or not he's still upset."

Danes nudged him gently. "Go. You should speak with him. Clear things up."

"You're right. As always." DJ Sr nodded. He finished their goodbye ritual before he left, figuring that his son would've chosen to go home. He went and grabbed his brother, who was standing against a wall like he usually did at parties. He quickly informed Slicer of the events.

In a rare show of emotion, Slicer replied, "Perhaps it's time he knows. He deserves to."

DJ Sr hesitated. "I suppose so," he sighed.

They transformed into bats and flew home in silence, and it was only when he landed that DJ Sr spoke. He pushed the front doors open and called out softly, "DJ…?"

At first only silence answered them, until a quiet voice responded, "Here."

Relieved, DJ Sr shut the door behind him and turned on some lights. "DJ, why did you leave so abruptly—?"

"If you're going to scold me about leaving the party early, then I'm just going to my room," his son interrupted.

He paused. "No, I…" He cleared his throat. "I actually wanted to talk to you."

DJ furrowed his brow. "What else is there to talk about? You've already confirmed that Lula is my mom."

"No, there's more." He swallowed nervously, before saying, "DJ…we need to talk."

*(A/N: Reference to Banana's origin story! For those who don't know, she was created by the Professor but went rogue until she was kidnapped by my other OC's the Rumbleruff Boys, eventually leading to her and their reformation.)

**(A/N: Reference to chapter 63!)

ME: All done! What do you guys think?

DJ: What's all this about my mom possibly not being my mom…? Why the sudden identity crisis? *suspiciously narrows eyes*

ME: *pretends to zip mouth closed* I'm not saying anything! That's spoiler territory right there.

BRICK: Vincent, you sure are a slimy snake. Blossom rejects you and you move on to Christie?

VINCENT: Hey, the author made me like that!

ME: Who says he's moving on?

VINCENT & BRICK: …What?

ME: Nothing. Anyway, don't forget to review! It motivates me to write more and while I know I'll be drowning in my classes, I'll work hard to finish the next chapter. Until next time, dear readers!