Disclaimer: Just know that Archie characters are not mine, I own Tressa-Ca, and enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day! (I'm all alone, poor me! Though I have my computer…)

I thought love was
Only true in fairy tales
Meant for someone else
But not for me
Love was out to get to me
That's the way it seems
Disappointment haunted
All my dreams

I thought love was
More or less a given thing
The more I gave the less
I got, oh yeah
What's the use in trying
All you get is pain
When I wanted sunshine
I got rain

And then I saw her face
Now I'm a believer
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I'm in love
I'm a believer
I couldn't leave her
If I tried

"I'm a Believer" by Smash Mouth

Chapter Three: Enjoying Life

Spectre the Echidna smiled as he held his beloved wife's hand, leading her to their new home. She returned his warm smile and squeezed his hand – fortunately, his flesh one. And as he bent his head down to nuzzle her neck, Spectre surrendered to his happy thoughts.

It seemed like it was just yesterday they met in that street, but in fact two years have been ensuing since that moment. Spectre and Tressa-Ca had moved from strangers to friends, then something more. And now they were married, and have been for the past few hours. Spectre had found a nice house near the limits of Echidnaopolis, and had bought it for them to start their own family.

But then Spectre couldn't help but frown. Start a family? How was he supposed to do that without her noticing his ragged body? He'll have to show her… show her what his real appearance was. He knew he should have told her before their marriage, even before they began dating, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Bring himself to break two hearts at the same time. Although she had asked a few questions, he had never answered them truthfully, pretending it was because of "medical reasons" he had to wear a helmet. But he couldn't hide anymore. Better tell her than let her discover by herself…

Tressa's voice cut into his mind. "Spectre, are you all right? You've been standing here for at least two minutes unmoving. Is everything okay, honey?"

The dark echidna shook his head and smiled weakly. "Yes, I'm fine, don't worry. Well, why don't we explore our new home? I'm sure there are plenty of things to see, and after all we'll be in there for a long time, so better get used to it!" He was reassured to see her smile and squeeze his arm as they walked towards the front door.

They spent the rest of the day arranging things in their house; but eventually, the moment Spectre dreaded has come. Sitting on the couch after dinner, they had begun kissing and squeezing each other; Spectre knew where this would lead, and after all there was nothing he could do to prevent it. They were married, on "honeymoon", and he wanted it as much as Tressa did. Only one problem: him.

He gave away a startled yelp as Tressa reached for his helmet. He caught her wrists in time and looked up at her lying on top of him. "Don't," he whispered. "Please don't."

"Why not, Spectre?" she asked him softly. "I think you'll have no use for it…" She nuzzled her cheek against his, but was confused when she heard him sigh. "What's wrong with you?"

"Everything, that's just it," Spectre whispered. He sat up and closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. "Tressa, I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time, but I never got the chance – or the guts – to do so."

Tressa was looking confusedly at her husband, wondering what in the world he was talking about. But she did understand that it was something important, and so listened attentively to Spectre, who had opened his bloody red eyes. Those eyes… she has never been afraid of them, though they gave him a cruel look; she knew he wasn't evil on the inside despite what others echidnas said about him.

Spectre drew in a big breath. "Tressa, I'm going to show you something no one in Echidnaopolis knows about. The reason why I should have told you sooner is that you'll probably go away from me, so…"

He slowly got up and stood in front of his wife. To her it looked like it took him every inch of strength to stand. The black echidna brought his hands up to his head and, grabbing the helmet, let it fall to the ground. He didn't stop to see what Tressa's reaction was; he wouldn't be able to go all the way now if he did. Spectre took off his white gloves; the right one first then the left, revealing his mechanical hand. With a sigh, he removed his shirt and thus showed his cybernetic left arm and his scarred chest. Then his strength left him and he gave up on taking his pants off.

Eyes tightly closed, Spectre waited for a scream, a gasp, but neither came. He set his bloody sight upon Tressa, and found her staring at him. No fear, no horror in those aqua blue eyes. Just plain and pure concern. "God, Spectre," she whispered, astonished. "I didn't know…" She went over to him and gently put her hand on his cheek. She stroked his spineless head, the part of his body Spectre never thought someone would touch intentionally. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I was afraid," he admitted softly. "Afraid that you would get frightened and that I would lose you." He cast his eyes downwards, ashamed. But he raised his head when he felt his wife take his metallic hand and press it against her cheek; Spectre had to wonder why she wasn't disgusted. He realized he could feel her fur under his cybernetic fingers. She then smiled at him warmly.

"You will never scare me, Spectre," she whispered softly to her husband. Tressa then caught the dark male off guard by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him square on the lips. Spectre widened his eyes, but soon wrapped his own arms, flesh and metal, around his wife's slender waist and kissed her back. It wasn't just any kiss; this one, besides being passionate, was a proof of Tressa's undying love for Spectre no matter what.

They hugged each other lovingly, and Tressa put her head on Spectre's chest, tracing the surgery scars there with a finger. The dark echidna put his chin on top of her head, sighing in contentment. It felt so good to be held by someone who loved him even though she knew about his appearance. He swore he would never, ever leave her side.

"I love you, Tressa," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you too, Spectre," she responded before kissing him again.

The rest of what happened that night is history.

XXXXXXX

Two months later, in the middle of a night.

Spectre gritted his teeth and rolled on his side. That pain… that awful pain was back. He has thought it had left him for good, but he has been wrong. He clutched his chest as he did so many years before, and a moan was out before he could help it.

He turned to Tressa-Ca, and was relieved to see his wife still asleep. Silently as to avoid waking her up, he sat up on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. No, it couldn't be… now at the best time of his life, that pain chose to stick its nose in. He had lived the past few months with dreams that he wouldn't have to feel that pain ever again. It couldn't come back… could it?

A sharp painful jolt pierced his chest, and he fought a cry as well as his tears. He was a grown-up now, a twenty years old Guardian; he couldn't allow himself to cry whenever he was in pain. In front of his wife on top of that. Some Guardian I make… But he couldn't help a solitary droplet from rolling on his cheek. He wiped his eyes furiously, and took big breaths to calm down. Spectre winced in spite of himself; the more he contracted, the more it hurt. And the more it hurt, the more he contracted…

Now sweating and panting, Spectre got up, ignoring the pang of pain in his thighs and went to a door on the side of their bedroom. The bathroom.

Shakily, he got to the sink and gently splashed water on his burning up face. He then put his hands on either side of the sink, gasping for air as he watched droplets of water fall from his fur. He had prayed to all of his ancestors that the pain wouldn't return, but this dreaded day has come anyway.

Spectre raised his head up, staring off into the mirror above the sink. There, he saw a dark-furred echidna looking at him. He saw bloodshot red eyes, filled with tears that refused to fall. He saw a spineless head, with an ugly scar on top and metal behind. How much he hated that reflection. How much he hated himself.

The young echidna had half a mind to punch the mirror, and raised his flesh fist to do so. But he gave up with a tired sigh, and instead bent forwards. Spectre put his sweating forehead against the mirror, grateful for the feeling of the cool glass on his burning skin, and closed his eyes. What now? Should he go back to Haven for another replacement? He winced at the very thought of it, which brought back many unpleasant memories. Hawking, the medical wing… surgery tools… pain…

He shook his head in denial; he had gotten used to the thought that he wouldn't have to endure this ever again. And now all of his hopes came crashing down: he had to go back, unless he wanted to die. Years ago he would have stayed right where he was, waiting for death to end his suffering. But now he wouldn't; he had a life, someone who loved him, and a family to start. He couldn't afford to die.

Tomorrow… I'll wait till tomorrow morning and I'll go to Haven, he thought. He tumbled back to the bedroom and sat on his bed, pain ripping through his legs and ribcage. But will I be able to survive till tomorrow morning?

Spectre shook that possibility off, and instead turned to his still sleeping wife. Spectre smiled and reached his flesh hand to tuck a strand of brown hair back; Tressa stirred lightly but didn't wake up. The black echidna almost forgot his hellish pain for a few seconds, wondering for the umpteenth time since his marriage what he has ever done to deserve such an angel by his side.

But as a pang of pain made itself known in his torso, Spectre crisped and laid on his side, turning away from Tressa. He fought off his sobs and braced himself for a long and sleepless night.

His tightly closed eyes opened when he felt an arm sneak its way around his waist, and he sighed tiredly. "Sorry I woke you up," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"No problem," Tressa answered sleepily. She then squeezed him gently. "How come you're awake so early?"

Spectre hesitated on this one. Part of him screamed at him to tell his wife the truth, but another and bigger part told him to keep quiet so he wouldn't sound like a weakling. But it didn't matter, however, because Tressa caught the hint. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Swallowing hard, Spectre nodded uneasily. Since the day she's known, Tressa has been able to tell when her husband was in pain, and did everything she could do to help him deal with it. It worked somewhat, but the pain was still here no matter what she said or did. Spectre was nevertheless grateful for her help.

Now was different. He didn't know how, or why, but he felt he had to go back to get his limbs and ribs replaced. And along came another problem: how in hell was he supposed to explain that to Tressa? Spectre realized he hasn't told her anything about his cybernetic parts being replaced every time his body grew. Yet he should have. Damn.

He was going to say something, when she spoke before him. "I hope it'll wear out soon; it wouldn't be pleasant being in pain while my parents are here." Spectre almost choked. Parents? Here! What the-

"Wait, wait, wait," he stammered. He pushed himself in a sitting position, groaning because of his ribcage's change of place. "What's the matter with your parents? What have they got to do with anything?"

Tressa blinked. "Spectre, I told you they would come a week ago! You didn't forget, did you?"

The male just widened his eyes in surprise. So, this is the thing I've been trying to remember for days… Though it reminds me why I've forgot it. Spectre winced inwardly; not that he didn't like his wife's parents, but he felt uneasy in front of them because he knew he looked weird to them. When he had asked Tressa in marriage, her father had had a fit, but all worked out smoothly after a discussion with her daughter.

And there is another problem, again, Spectre thought. I can't let Tressa alone, it would be rude and inappropriate. But on the other hand, if I stay here, I die. He chuckled bitterly in his mind. Look at me; here I am, making a big deal out of nothing. They probably won't be here soon, I'll probably have the time to go to Haven and come back. "When will they arrive, already?" he asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon."

Spectre was still for a few seconds, then fell back on the bed and hid his head under his pillow. I'm dead, was his last thought before he passed out from exhaustion, pain and desperation.

XXXXXXX

Before the sun even rose, Spectre silently pulled open the front door of his house. He hadn't had the heart to wake Tressa up, and just left a note on her nightstand to tell her where he was going and that he would be back for lunch. He felt bad, creeping away like a thief, but he had to. Or else things would go wrong.

The sun made its entrance as Spectre neared Haven's main gate. It has been two years since the day he had last seen any of his ancestors, and he wasn't sure he would be greeted with open arms. But he held his head up and got in anyway.

Nothing. No one. Has nobody seen him coming? That's what it seemed, or was everybody still asleep? Spectre uneasily walked through the empty corridors, trying to ignore the heart-ripping pain in his muscles. Unconsciously, he made his way towards the medical wing, and was startled to see his fifth father Rembrandt sitting here, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly, and Spectre realized his grandfather was sobbing.

The pain blanked out for a while; Spectre has never seen his fifth father cry. Rembrandt has always been the strong one, the one to lift his grandson up when he thought he had had enough. Seeing him so lost, so helpless was a shock to Spectre, who felt his heart fill up with sympathy. Whatever was bothering Rembrandt, he was decided to help.

Spectre approached Rembrandt, who didn't notice his presence till the dark one put a hand on his shoulder. Rembrandt gasped and lifted tears-filled green eyes towards his grandson, who smiled weakly. "Hello," Spectre said quietly. "What's going on?"

Rembrandt swiftly got up and hugged his fifth son with all of his strength. Besides being extremely surprised, Spectre winced in pain as his ribcage was being crushed against his ancestor. He managed to wriggle his way out of Rembrandt's embrace, just to be hugged once again. "Fifth son!" the elder exclaimed. "You came back! It's been a while!"

"Two years, Grandfather," Spectre rasped. "Only two years!"

"My, how you've changed and grown…"

"That's exactly why I'm here. Do you mind letting go of me?" Rembrandt released his grandson, who sighed in relief. "Thanks. Now, tell me what's going on? And don't tell me nothing, I saw you cry."

Rembrandt's happiness fell at once, and he cast his sight downwards. "We've been attacked," he whispered. His voice seemed so raw it seemed like his throat was burning. "The Legion… they found another entrance to Haven and destroyed the security system there. By the time we realized what had happened, they were on us." Rembrandt wiped a tear away, inhaling deeply. "It's a miracle we managed to win and make them run away, but Jordan… you know how he was shaken when his brother died?"

Spectre nodded; the day Aaron, Jordan's older brother and Rembrandt's eldest son, died in a battle against the Dark Legion, Jordan swore to be "the Guardian Aaron would never be", and secretly swore to avenge his brother's death.

"Well, he wanted revenge," Rembrandt whispered. "My son ran towards what remained of the group that attacked us… and to his death. He fought, and killed some Legionnaires, but unfortunately…" The tears were now freely running on the brown echidna's cheeks, and he made no move to stop them. "It's a wonder we managed to find his body in one piece, so to speak. Hawking tried to save him, but it was no use. Now my two sons are dead… A father should never have to bury his own children!"

Rembrandt fell on his chair and buried his head in his hands again. Spectre didn't know how to react; his fourth uncle was dead. Sure, he has never been very close to Jordan, but they respected each other and Spectre liked him for that. He could feel despair and extreme sadness coming from Rembrandt's wide open mind, and cursed himself for making a big deal out of his little problems. Others were suffering more than he was.

"I'm sorry, Fifth father," he whispered. He took Rembrandt's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The brown echidna returned the squeeze, and Spectre was suddenly and brutally reminded why he was here when he felt his cybernetic fingers scream in pain. "Ah, grandfather. Could you tell me where Hawking is?"

XXXXXXX

A couple of hours and some surgery later, Spectre was getting out of the medical wing, slightly bent forwards as he got used to his newly replaced ribs. Hawking had warned him that it would hurt a little more than usual, seeing as he hasn't replaced his cybernetic parts for two years. But it was fine by Spectre; at least he would be able to be with Tressa during her parents' stay. He also had gotten a day off of his duties as a Guardian.

It was near lunchtime when he got home, but eating wasn't on his to-do list. Sitting and resting seemed more appealing to him. He walked in his house and fell on the couch, panting and exhausted after the long walk home. Spectre felt sleep taking over pain, and he soon found himself dozing off. No, I can sleep! I have to help Tressa… her parents will… be there… soon…

XXXXXXX

When Tressa-Ca got home at lunchtime, she found her husband Spectre sprawled out on the couch of their living-room, fast asleep and snoring quietly. As angry as she was for leaving early without telling her, she couldn't help but think there was something cute and childlike about him sleeping like that. Tressa put the grocery bags she was carrying on the kitchen table, and went to sit next to the dark male on the couch.

Tressa bent and pecked his cheek, which brought a low growl from Spectre. He sleepily opened his red eyes, smiling upon seeing his wife. "Good morning," he yawned. He then frowned. "You aren't too mad at me about this morning?"

Tressa smiled and put her head on his shoulder. "To be honest, I thought that you were afraid of my parents and that you wouldn't come back. But now it's all right. What took you so long?"

Spectre wanted to tell her about his limbs replacement, about the pain he felt after surgery intervention, all these years spent in fear that he would have to go to the surgery room again, about his fourth uncle's death. But when he opened his mouth, all he said was: "Nothing. I guess the pain was slowing me down."

"Oh, okay. Well, my parents called: they will be here in a few hours. Oh, by the way, I found something nice for you to wear! You'll see, you'll be to-die for!" She excitedly got up and searched something in the bags she had brought back. Spectre couldn't help but roll his eyes; who knew what Tressa had in store for him this time.

"Should I be afraid?" he asked playfully.

"Depends," Tressa said, her voice muffled by the bags. "Maybe, maybe not."

Spectre chuckled as his wife came back from the kitchen, with something in her hands. The dark one realized it was a nice long-sleeved red shirt. "You can wear this with your black pants and boots, you'll look wonderful!" Tressa said. "But before we start setting up things, let's have lunch!"

Spectre didn't have the heart to tell Tressa that he hurt too much to eat; he just tagged along.

XXXXXXX

"Be still, will you! How am I supposed to help you if you keep trashing around?" Tressa scolded Spectre, who just shifted again to scratch his shoulder. She has been trying to adjust his shirt for the past two minutes, and was now buttoning the front of the shirt. But she would probably go faster if Spectre quitted moving. She finally let out an exasperated sigh. "Spectre, I swear you're worst than a child!"

"But Tressa, why won't you let me do this myself?" he asked.

"Because you would never manage to do so with those clumsy paws of yours," she answered simply while straightening his shirt.

"Clumsy paws?" Spectre repeated, more amused than angry. "What happened to the "to-die for" echidna you said I was? Did you finally realize you needed glasses?" He laughed a little as Tressa gave him a gentle swat along his cheek.

"Just you wait, one day you will regret," she joked, finally doing the last button and taking a step back to behold her handiwork. "You have to be the most handsome echidna on this side of the planet, Spectre!"

"So I once was the most wonderful echidna in the world, but I have clumsy paws, and now I'm only the most handsome on this side of the planet," Spectre pouted. "Make up your mind, woman!" He was amazed by the fact that joking made him forget some of his pain, making it easier to deal with.

Tressa giggled and threw her arms around Spectre's neck, and gently flicked his nose with a finger. "I made up my mind the day I saw you," she whispered softly. Spectre smiled and held her gently as they just stood here, taking in the other's presence. Their little moment was cut off when someone knocked on the door, and they broke away from each other.

"They're here," Tressa said. She turned to Spectre and straightened his collar one last time. "Remember: don't panic, don't be scared, stay cool, and above everything else, be yourself." Her words came out on top of each other, making it all the harder for Spectre to understand. "I know Mom will be nice, but Dad always have doubts on what he doesn't trust, and I think he will more than likely-"

"Tressa, honey, calm down," Spectre reassured her, rubbing her arm up and down in a comforting gesture. "I'm sure this will be just fine." If only I could convince myself about that… May Chaos help me. "Come on, let's open the door, otherwise they'll think something is wrong."

The dark male wrapped his arm around his wife's waist, and together they went to the door. Tressa reached and opened it, and there stood her parents. Her father was a deep purple echidna, as tall as Spectre, who wore a dark blue tuxedo and a neutral look. Tressa's mother was a happy-looking cream-furred echidna clad in a plain orange dress. She hugged her daughter as soon as she saw her.

"Tressa! My little girl, how are you?" she exclaimed, squeezing Tressa for all she was worth. "How is life with your husband?"

"Great, Mom, just great," Tressa gasped, wriggling out of her mother's embrace. She felt red got up in her cheeks from embarrassment, and hoped that Spectre didn't see it. He would never let her live this down if he did. She then pecked her father on his cheek, and saw her mother do the same to Spectre. She grinned as her husband's muzzle turned a slight pink.

Her father stepped up and held up his left hand to Spectre. "Glad to see you again, Spectre. Or should I say my son-in-law, now?" The dark one smiled uneasily, eyeing the outstretched hand worriedly. He held his cybernetic – fortunately gloved – hand, not wanting the other male to think something strange was going on, and shook his father-in-law's hand.

Tressa's father stopped dead in his tracks, still holding Spectre's hand in his own. He frowned; the feel of the fingers under the glove wasn't the one he was expecting. But before the older could say something, Tressa took Spectre's left arm and dragged him towards the door. "Spectre, honey, why don't you take care of Mom and Dad's luggage?"

"Sure, Tressa," the black echidna answered, quite shaken.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she smiled. "We'll wait for you in the living-room."

Nodding absently, Spectre got out of the house and walked towards the parents' car, still amazed that he had avoided being caught. Then something clicked in his mind, and he raised his head up. Luggage? Just how much time are they going to stay here?

XXXXXXX

Meanwhile, in the living room, Tressa and her parents were seated around the low table. Her father was in the armchair, while her mother was sitting next to her on the couch. They were chatting as they waited for Spectre. Well, Tressa's mother was chatting; her father was silent and Tressa hadn't managed to finish a sentence so far. Her mother wouldn't let her.

"So, sweetie, what's life like with your husband?" she asked.

"Mom, he's got a name you know," Tressa sighed. She was tired of her parents calling Spectre "your husband" or "your mate"; not that she minded, but it made her feel like he was lacking personality.

"Sorry, sweetie, but I can't help it. You know I can't shake the feeling that this man is not trustworthy. Are you sure about your decision? You know we can always find you another husband and-"

"Mom, we already talked about this. I love Spectre and nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind," Tressa replied, determinate.

"And this helmet he always wears. Seems strange to me."

"It's for medical reasons, Mom. He's not wearing it because he feels like it."

"But you-"

"Leave her be, Anica," Tressa's father suddenly said. It was the first time he spoke since they have been in the living-room. "She'll find out alone that she's been wrong all along. Leave her alone."

Now Tressa was more than angry. "Did you come all that way just to say that?"

Anica sighed, and turned to her husband. "She's right, Yanek. We're here to spend some quality time with our daughter, and the man she chose to marry. I don't want you embarrassing her hus- Spectre, is that clear?"

Yanek gritted his teeth, and at that moment they heard a voice say: "Where do I put these?" They all turned to see Spectre standing a few feet away, overly loaded with bags and suitcases. He smiled weakly at Tressa.

"Upstairs, honey, in the guest room," she answered. Spectre nodded and slowly went up the stairs, bending under his heavy load. Tressa had a grateful smile and turned to her parents. "You see, he's full of good intentions-" She was cut off by a startled yelp and a banging sound. "Err, well he's trying his best. Hmm, excuse me, I'll be back in a few seconds."

Wasting no time, Tressa rushed up the stairs and found Spectre laying face down on the ground, nearly crushed by suitcases and bags, growling and muttering curses. She stifled a giggle as she put away the bags on her husband's back, and helped him to sit up. "What happened?"

"I… sort of didn't see there was another step," he groaned, massaging his head.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll survive. Just give me some time to put all that stuff in the room and I'll come down. And pray Chaos I won't fall down the stairs!"

Tressa smiled warmly at him and kissed his forehead. She bent forwards and whispered in his ear: "Don't be long. I don't think I'll hold on much longer alone." At this Spectre pecked her cheek and winked at her.

As she went down the stairs, Spectre sighed and picked up the fallen luggage. I have a feeling this is going to be a long day…