Thought Patterns

Chapter Three: Version Two

The moment we get back to Brussels, we're escorted by our own little Preventer entourage back to HQ, where we're promptly deposited in Une's office and told to wait until she has a spare moment, because she "would like a word" with us.

I'm not sure if I should roll my eyes or run away screaming.

Choosing the more characteristic of the two, I seat myself in one of Une's painfully erect lobby chairs and cross my legs, adopting a look of complete indifference. Duo, seeming to have less patience than usual today, which may be record-breaking, takes one look at me and flies off the handle.

I'm sorry for sitting?

"Aargh!" he screams, dragging his hands through his messed-up braid. Apparently he can't fix it without a shower. "Some numbnut biffs it and gets caught with confidential information on our flight, everything is obviously on high alert, or else we wouldn't have gotten a freaking escort, and Une doesn't have the time of fucking day to tell us what's up when she was the one who wanted us here in the first place!" he rants, all in one breath.

Andy gives him a sympathetic smile and a shrug, only incensing Duo's fury, and I'm made to wonder whether or not people can actually rupture veins in these moments of extreme high blood pressure.

"What the fuck is up!" Duo crosses his arms violently, fidgeting, before finally reaching terminal velocity and screwing all protocol.

Let's just say Une isn't exactly pleased at us barging in on her office, but considering she's just hanging up the phone as Andy, Evan, and I chase Duo -- in an attempt to restrain him, I'm sure -- into her presence, I don't feel guilty about interrupting anything.

The look of extreme perturbation on Une's face really doesn't help my lack of guilt. At all. In fact, in an attempt to stave off laughter, I think I'll settle for grabbing Duo's shoulder and stopping him from spontaneously combusting.

"Une --" Duo starts before I get hold of him. Apparently my physical attempt to restrain him shocks him enough to shut his mouth, allowing Andy, ever the peacemaker, to get in the first words.

"Excuse us, Lady Une," Andy starts, buttering on the formalities, "but we've had a rather strained last twelve hours, and Maxwell's curiosity is legendary. We just want to know what's happened to put all of Preventer on high alert."

Une sighs rather dramatically. You can't guilt-trip me, lady.

"Jamison, Carmichael, I need you two to collect the Preventer 5 members from throughout the city, if you could, as today is a regional holiday and most of them have the day off." Apparently this amuses her, as she can't completely nix the twitch in her upper lip. "The quicker this is done, the quicker we can find out who is at the root of the problem. My secretary is working on an agent lockdown, so it's up to you two. Go now."

Andy and Evan exchange a look -- I bloody would, too -- but salute and leave the office as commanded. Une requesting their leave makes me wonder if this might be more serious than even the ubiquitous emergency personnel give light to.

She eyes us for a moment and I have to tighten my grip on Duo's shoulder, as his shaking tendons imply he's going to try and speak again. I'm not sure why I can't allow him to speak: it's just a feeling I'm getting. A definite feeling.

Une sighs again as she lifts a manila folder off her desk, fingering it as though it might bite her. "As I don't think a thousand dollar bribe could pry Maxwell out of this room, I'm just going to say this." She looks at me, and I have a terrible, sinking feeling. "They somehow came across your records, Yuy." Duo's eyebrows furrow. I swallow. "The set you entered into the system as an annulment prompt."

My mind seems to have shut down, but my mouth is replying on autopilot. "How?"

"The only thing I can think of is that they had a keyword. Not even those officials with access to the restricted files, such as you two, know of their existence or how to locate them. Only myself and my few equals know we even have them, and still only Zechs and I know what they're for and in reference to. Whoever gave that agent those files knew they existed prior to their entering the data stream, and I'm tempted to say they used us and our possession of them as a gateway." She gives me a straight look, and I feel irrationally guilty. Like getting hacked is somehow my fault. "In Layman's terms, they would have already had to know what the files were about, and generally what they contained."

I'm shaking my head before she's even done speaking. "No. Not possible. All those who knew the contents of those files are dead. Have been dead for years in most cases."

"All but you and whoever told that boy to find them." Une's eyes are hard and sharp, and I can feel the sting.

I delay the subject, "Who was it that was found with them?"

She looks at a memo. "Carson Liming. A Preventer of rank two who received the codes in an email, which can only be traced to the name 'Reinhardt.' Refused to give us any further information and is thusly detained in cellblock E." Her eyes have lost none of their vehemence. "Yuy, you know the answer to this. I know you do."

I'm still shaking my head, and she's still disbelieving. Somewhere along the line, my hand dropped from Duo's shoulder to fist at my side. I know I must look shell-shocked, but I am, and hiding it would be nearly pointless. The only presence here to witness is Duo's, and he would have guessed something was up if my facial expression had changed not at all. Because he's Duo, and I'm me, and if it weren't for looks and IQ, we'd probably be interchangeable. Hell, nix the IQ: he's probably got me in spades.

"What the flying pigeon fuck are you guys talking about?" Duo asks, breaking through my rampant thoughts. His voice is hard and reassuringly solid. He's not panicking, unlike me, and he's being rational. We've been talking circles around him for the last five minutes, and if he's going to know part, he's going to know all. I can't hide this sort of thing from him, anyway. It just doesn't work that way. "Documents Heero gave for annulment? What fucking annulment?" He pauses before his eyebrows rise infinitesimally. "Isn't annulment bargaining the process by which alternate military organizations prove they've disbanded and won't fight for any force opposing Preventer?"

Une nods. Fuck, I wish I were as frank as she is. "That's right. Of the five of you, only Yuy's backing organization was still running when Preventer was established, and though he's a fine member of our staff, we still needed proof of their allegiance, or we would have blown them to shit." Her lips quirk and I know why. "Or we would have tried to blow them to shit and destroyed half the planet in the attempt. Either way, it would have been counterproductive."

"Or you may have simply been destroyed," I add to her thesis, impatient to move on. What all will she tell him? Enough? Too much? Am I honestly going to have an aneurysm?

"What organization? I thought the fucking Barton foundation was behind all our messes." Duo exhales, patience waning. "I know they were behind mine, and Wu Fei's, and Quatre's, and, well fuck, just look at Trowa's name." He runs a hand through his completely ruined hair, losing another piece of his cool.

Amazingly, I find myself responding before Une is given the chance to admit she has no fucking idea. Because she doesn't, despite what she may think. "The Barton Foundation supplied the monetary backing for the Operation Meteor project, but they did not supply the brain power. The brainpower was already there, in the form of the five scientists that were dispersed among us, the pilots. They had an organization amongst themselves, and that they belonged to, long before the Barton Foundation had even considered a rational method of taking over the world." I pause, and again wonder just how far I should go with this. The intrinsic beginning of understanding I see forming in Duo's eyes gives me the last little shove. He can know: it involves us all in a way that only I have ever known.

"This organization and all its leagues of benefactors and contributors was not originally interested in world domination, or even weapons at all. Their specialty was, instead, genetic engineering. They wanted to overcome genetic failures, and ultimately produce a race of humans able to make objective, educated decisions, negating the impact of stupidity on the world and its floundering resources.

"The first creation they discovered on accident was a self-supporting, artificially created landmass. They cultivated that knowledge into what is now the Colony and all subsequent Colonies. After selling that idea to the original founders of the space nation, they returned to their goal of the perfect human." Again, I must pause, and redefine what I'm saying. "Human isn't the correct term. They were trying to engineer a human replacement that functioned in all the ways humans do, but didn't have their drawbacks. Drawbacks being biases, preferences, desires, and such things that can provoke the human race into war or other self-destructive actions.

"They accidentally created many things along the way, too numerous to recall here, but could be posed in an example of submachine cartridges, new knocking mechanisms in guns, and menial things like a different toaster oven and a new way to card wool. The next extreme accident they caused was the discovery and utilization of Gundanium Alloy. They created the specs for the first Gundam around the time the first ship landed on Mars, to give you a time frame. When they again wished to discard the project and return to their goal, they acknowledged reality and the fact that something that could be used as so powerful a weapon could not just be sold to the highest bidder.

"They picked the Barton Foundation because it was, amazingly, the least corrupt of the possible buyers, and would allow some of the creators themselves to continue with the project and have direct contact with the developmental team and future pilots. In their minds, the destruction of those humans living on earth was a terrible thing, but one that could easily be overcome. They returned to their tests, and with the self-regulating technology that was used to create the ZERO system, produced a series of test embryos, in the hopes that one would have some of the specifications they required.

"These test embryos were created by patching together pieces of the genetic code from humans they had deemed worthy and worthwhile, though most came apart at the seems, and only seven resulted in human births. But therein lay the problem: they were still human. They still carried all the painful faults of humans, though to generally lesser degrees. Some were complete failures, but two were close to what they'd been trying for. By studying their mistakes and successes, they were eventually able to create a human with all of the characteristics they were looking for. The only thing left for them to do was the dehumanization.

"Unfortunately, the flaws within Operation Meteor stopped them from much productivity in their last days before destruction. Near the end of the Eve War, all but a few of the scientists had been killed, and those left alive had seen what their failed experiments had become -- and even worse, seen what their success had become -- and given up the mission. They, too, died in the accidental destruction of the satellite that was their facility. By January first, After Colony 196, only two of the Gundam scientists, four of the failed experiments, and the successful experiment were still alive.

"At today's date, both scientists have died of old age, three of the four failed experiments are leading normal, human lives and allowing Preventer to keep track of them, the fourth is myself," -- Yay! My voice didn't break! -- "and the success . . . " I really don't want to acknowledge anything Une has said. Past this point, I am no longer involved in the discussion at hand. I refuse.

Une finishes for me. Of course she does. "The success disappeared. He picked up root and vanished into the abyss of space, never to be heard from again." The fucking woman is smirking. She finds this amusing. "Gone to live a life in peace, perhaps?" She chuckles softly and I clench my fists more tightly. "Not likely. His intelligence is phenomenal, his physical prowess unmatched, his ability to reason objectively in any situation inhuman, and his remorse nonexistent. There is no possible way, outside of the denial in Yuy's mind, that he would allow himself to drift into non-action." She catches my eyes. "The others wouldn't try anything like this. Only him."

And I hate her right now. I hate her because she's right. I hate her because all of her assumptions are right. All of them except one: she thinks she understands. She can't understand. She knows him from data on a page, from written recounts of his actions, and from the horrified silences those who have met him fall into at the mention of his name, his being, or his mere existence.

And I hate her because she thinks the mystery is solved.

But I can't hate her for more than an instant, as there's no time to do so. Duo's unknowing innocence in the room prevents it. His amazingly objective eye on the situation at hand draws me from the panic that is attached to him, my own personal postscript, and back to the present, more important danger.

"You say 'he' and 'his' as though his name is some dirty word, to be shoved under a mattress at the nearest possible outlet mall. Does 'he' have a name, or should we start referring to him with a phrase of doom that lets everyone know exactly which 'him' we're talking about?" Duo asks sarcastically, seemingly unaffected by the information shoved on him in such a short space of time. As much as I'm sure he loves to infuriate me, I'm sure he'll puzzle over all this for hours, then finally ask me all the questions he's got piled up in his mind.

"Of course he has a name," Une says at length, though she hesitates on the name itself.

She has no real reason to fear his name. She doesn't understand why we avoid using it at all costs, but she thinks she does. She thinks we're afraid. Afraid saying his name will summon him to the room. Afraid it'll make him seem more real.

But he's already real. A mere thought is all it takes to send chills down our spines: we don't need a name to give us fear. No. His name gives us recollections of the past, not premonitions and fears for the future. We remember the days when we spoke his name casually and as though to a brother.

We remember him before he went insane.

"Ethan," I say, and Une's eyes widen almost amusingly. She didn't expect me to say it. "His name is Ethan." Une is no longer important: she's shown her own weakness. I turn to look Duo in the eye, and don't see any near-condescending looks of understanding in his eyes. I see the quiet calm of a boy who likes to play his music too loud, but can become passive long enough to create a happy medium between our tastes. A lack of understanding giving way to the presence of knowledge itself. "He doesn't need an alias. His name is simply Ethan. No surname, since we all come from so many different sets of genes that a surname would be impossible to define." I allow a note of humor to enter both my eyes and my voice. "What name he's going under, however, is a different matter. He wasn't predictable in his aliases and ideas when he was sane."

Duo tightens his lips quickly before responding. "So what do we do?" he asks at length. "Do we try and find this guy, or do we wait for him to find us?" He frowns in thought. "On top of that, why the fuck would he want information that he's probably seen before? What would be the point of that?"

I lick my upper lip, contemplating. It's not something I do often, simply because it shows I'm not always in command of a situation. Rule one to being a stoic bastard: you must always appear in command of the situation. No ifs, ands, or buts. "The only actual copies of the information were on the organization's personal server, though you're right that he's probably already seen them. If he didn't get a copy for himself before the server was terminated, there wouldn't really be any other way for him to make sure that what he remembers is correct." I allow myself a small shrug. "The man's insane -- it's always possible that he wanted to get the files simply to see if he could. Genetically speaking, he has a photographic memory. He wasn't tested for any changes in ability after his sanity left him, however, and it's possible that he could have lost a lot of what he had. The only way to know would be to get a hand on him, and we're not gonna be able to do that unless he wants us to. Insane and defunct or not."

Duo seems to take all this in fairly well. "Just to get an idea of how screwed we really are if this Ethan guy is the one behind all this," he begins, making me wonder if he isn't going to ask what I think he's going to ask, "how much better is he than you?"

I resist the urge to giggle, mainly because I think Une might explode, and also choose to ignore my initial response of "You know the difference between a cockroach and a Howitzer?" and say, "Let's just leave it at the fact that he could take my ass off, wrap it flawlessly, and hand it back to me before I'd even realize we were, indeed, fighting."

Duo lets out a low whistle and says, with a humorous tone in his voice, "So let's hope he doesn't go on a murderous rampage, I guess. Or, y'know, decide he needs to run the world." A grin splits his face momentarily. "Though, honestly, I think Relena could talk a fucking Gundam to death, so placing extra guards on her would probably be a waste of time and manpower."

I'd be tempted to agree with him -- or at least smirk accordingly -- if Une weren't in the room. Damn Relena-lover.

Now, for the record, Relena's a lovely girl, and one of my good friends. I have nothing against her heart. But the girl can talk for hours once she gets started, and the whole stalking thing was a bit much. The look on her face when she realized she wasn't even the team I was batting against was pretty priceless, but the safe sex talk I got four seconds later was not worth the amusement. At all.

"While those are respectable goals," Une says in a monotone, "we should probably have a few more solid goals than that." She turns to me. Bitch. "What do you suggest, Yuy?"

I stare at her. If I knew how to deal with Ethan, I wouldn't be standing here, telling you about him. In fact, I'd probably be off somewhere, tanning, seeing as I no longer felt the world was in even REMOTE need of my assistance, as nothing could ever be a threat so much as Ethan. Ahem. "I'll see what I can do," I say. "But you should probably brief the Five members when they get here who you think it is, as well as his capabilities." I meet her eyes coldly. "Leaving out the connection to me, as the only ones with access are Fives, and any of them could be the traitor."

Une purses her lips. I get the feeling she's not too happy with that idea. Then she realizes the first part of my statement. "Shouldn't you be the one telling them? You know more about him than I do."

I shake my head. "No. I'm going home," I say with a tone of voice that openly means 'don't argue with me,' in the hopes that, for once, it'll work on her, "and I'm going to make some phone calls, then I'm going to go to sleep, and deal with everything else in the morning." I turn away from Une, grabbing Duo's arm, but I know I have to reassure her in some way. "He won't attack during the night, if he's going to at all. His sense of honor may be warped, but it's still there." I don't know if I should say the next bit, but I will anyway. "I'm proof." Fuck responsibility, no more talking: I'm out of here. Une can deal with Andy, Evan, and the other the pissed off Fives on her own. They're not my problem.

Duo follows me without question, silent as we exit the building, humming only a soft melody. In fact, his silence is almost astonishing me. I'd probably be more shocked if I wasn't trying my damnedest not to hyperventilate.

We walk up the stairs and into our apartment, and I hang up my coat surely and calmly, making my way into the kitchen. With a swing of the topmost cabinet, I have myself a nice, full glass of brandy, and fuck if I'm not planning to drink the whole damn thing in a couple gulps.

When I've thoroughly burnt my throat on a swallow or two of the amber liquid, Duo chooses to comment. "What are you thinking?" he asks me, and I'm tempted to chuck my glass at his head. Instead, I slouch my way onto the living room sofa and throw my feet on the coffee table -- a very Duo thing to do, but not very me -- and attempt to sink through the cushions into the next dimension. And not a fucking Motel 6, this time.

After a pause -- long enough for Duo to sit down uncomfortably close to me -- Duo rephrases. "Tell me what you're thinking, Heero." In my slightly inebriated state -- my alcohol tolerance isn't great, but it's not bad, either, I don't think -- I imagine his voice sounds worried, but I can't quite bring myself to care. "This isn't like you," he continues, and yes, he's definitely worried. "In fact, you've done so many uncharacteristic things today, I might have to call the weatherman, just to make sure it isn't raining poodles."

I chuckle at that, though I'm not sure why. It's funny, somehow. "I really wouldn't be surprised," I say, amazingly coherent. "At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if polar bears in tutus came dancing by." I'm not really aware of what I'm saying until a few seconds after each word comes out, but alcohol has that effect on me. I'm a lot more talkative, and I have this nasty habit of saying aloud everything I'm thinking.

"Yes, you do," Duo replies. Whoops. "There was something you didn't tell Une." He pauses. "All right, many things you didn't tell Une, but that's understandable." He grabs my shoulder to force me to look at him, and I see that damnable worry in his eyes. Fuck. "But, y'know, Heero, maybe you should get it off your chest."

I sigh dramatically, pulling away to continue feeding myself to the sofa cushions "Fine," I say. I'm not sure why, or how for that matter, but I start talking. "I haven't seen Ethan in years, and the last time I say him wasn't so great. He shot Emiko, stabbed Jae, and nearly beat the shit out of Carr." I chuckle, this sad, pathetic, half-whimpering chuckle. "Then he started laughing. Laughing and screaming." I'm starting to lose my coherency. And I'm falling dreadfully out-of-character. Hopefully Duo'll blame it on the booze. Looking at my glass, I've only had about half. So maybe my alcohol tolerance lowers when I'm stressed.

Or maybe I just really wanted to say all this. No more introspection. Blaming the alcohol.

"But then I remember all the times before he lost it. All of us sitting and talking, hiding after hours so we wouldn't get yelled at for being off-task. Playing word games, stealing J's liquor, and just being kids. Kai and Anna would tell us stories from the med wing, and we'd get to know who'd come to the base that week, since they all invariably wound up in the infirmary, while Jae and Carr would talk about the Colonel's latest female conquests." I chuckle. "And even his rare male ones. Sometimes we'd talk strategy, and different ways to reprogram the computers to shoot toast at the annoying dinner ladies. Emiko and Karin would giggle and do whatever made-up dance they'd thought up during lessons that day. And at the end, usually around two or four a.m., Ethan and I would talk about the progress being made on Wing, and whatever new training thing we'd had to do that day, or what was coming up." The last time I tried to think about this, I almost wound up crying. I don't know if it's the alcohol or Duo's hand on my shoulder, but I feel remarkably calm.

"Then the eight of us went to bed, each with his or her bunkmate, and woke up four hours later for the day to begin anew. That was until 192, when Barton flipped out at the souls we all seemed to have." I broke off to close my eyes and chuckle, allowing the picture to settle in my mind. "He said that if his funding was going into this project, they'd have to develop new methods for training us. There was no way we could be effective weapons if we felt bad about killing." My mind's eye replays Barton yelling at us, holding Emiko by her hair. J tried to stop him, but only wound up with a fist in his cuff. "So they did. Anna and Kai were being thrown into more and more gruesome surgeries and Anna took to throwing up every day. Jae and Carr were taken all over the base to oversee the training of the Barton Foundation's recruits, and to learn to govern with an iron fist, while Emiko and Karin were taken to the board meetings to learn the ins and outs of playing the political game." Again I see the metal warehouse being used to build Wing. "And Ethan and I got more assignments, each more dangerous than the last. We were pulled into separate rooms for a couple hours a day and forced to watch recordings of battles past, to learn strategy and dehumanize ourselves to suffering."

Dehumanize ourselves to suffering. We just went mad. "That's when Ethan went mad." Me, too. "He was taken with Carson, and I went with J, and about half through an ancient recording of an earth war, the alarm went off. J stood up, taking me with him, and we walked in with time enough to see Ethan screaming, holding his hands over his ears." The picture of a blond boy kneeling on the ground, wailing, burns itself into my eyes. "Even five years later, I remember what he was yelling. 'We're human, we're not machines, we're not weapons, we're just fucking kids!' he yelled. 'We should be worrying about puberty and our grades, not the quickest and quietest way to kill a man twice our size!' He'd gone mad. Even his perfect genetic structure couldn't keep his mind from vacating. But his skills, and his strength, were still on the ball."

I think I drifted off into silence, because Duo pulls me back to the present by shaking my shoulder lightly. "What happened?"

I laugh. I can't help it: it's humorous. "He turned on us. He yelled, 'You stand there, and you take it! You whine about it, and you know it's not right, but you just stand there and take their orders! You debate the strategies they teach you, and you act just like they want you to!' and then he laughed. An agonized, pained laugh. 'You have personalities, and you let these people tear them to shreds, and for what reason? Just because you do!' he yelled, and then his voice lowered, became almost deadly. 'Well, I don't have to watch it anymore,' he said. 'I can put a stop to this right now.' His body froze, and he looked down at the ground, then he looked straight up. Straight into my eyes." My glass is empty: when did that happen? Have I been drinking without noticing? "And then he said something that hit us, all of us, at the core of our beings. 'I'll put a stop to this experiment.' He pulled his gun from its holster at his waist. He pointed it at Emiko, and she just stood there, tears in her eyes. 'We shouldn't be here at all. And I'll make sure we aren't,' he said to her, and then he pulled the trigger. All the guards and our scientists jumped at him, but they didn't have a chance. J understood that. He yelled for us to retreat to lockdown, and Anna and Karin bolted.

"I suppose I should have, too, but I couldn't." I pause, setting down my glass and depressing myself even further into the sofa. "I only vaguely remember what happened between then and boarding the shuttle. Ethan broke free of the guards trying to disable him and pulled a butterfly knife on Jae when he tried to protect Carr. Jae went down and Carr tried valiantly to defend himself, but Kai had to duck in and pull him out, dragging him off after Anna and Karin." I pause again and squint my eyes, as though that'll help me remember.

"I remember just standing there," I continue, and Duo's nearly faded from view. "I heard J yelling for me, my name, but I couldn't move from where I stood. Ethan killed a guard and turned to grab me by the collar of my shirt. But he paused. I don't know how I must have looked, but he stopped, and looked me in the eye." I pause to laugh. "This boy, two years my junior, staring me straight in the eye, bloody knife in his hands, and what do I do? I brushed a streak of blood off his cheek. I don't even know whose it was: probably Jae's. But he paused long enough for J to grab my shirt and pull me from the room, locking the bulk doors and pulling me to the fourth floor.

"We loaded a shuttle almost immediately, and Carr was sent to the infirmary the moment we arrived on the satellite. He wasn't there long. As soon as he'd regained consciousness, he told Kai and I, the ones tending him, that he wanted to die. So I gave him my pocketknife, and he killed himself. Then it was just the four of us. The Barton Foundation only cared for our losses in the sense that they no longer had us to fight for them. So the four of us were thrown back into our training with a vengeance. Kai and Anna were still medics, Karin was still a politician, and I was still the weapon. But when we launched, J told me to change the plan. The scientists had plotted amongst themselves, revenge on the Foundation for never seeking out Ethan.

"They sent Karin, Kai, and Anna into hiding, and me to earth under a different name, so the Foundation couldn't track me. They wound up changing the trackers in Wing to that end." I smirk. "And we won. The Foundation is no more, and we're still here, kicking and screaming." I fall silent. I'm not sure what else to say. I'm also getting tired.

No, tired isn't the right word. The right word is "exhausted." I'm exhausted.

"What happened to the other three? And the satellite?" Duo asks, prompting me to continue.

"The satellite self-destructed, or, as the official records say, was 'accidentally destroyed.' Karin hid in the L3 cluster, and is now a high school history teacher, of all things. Kai and Anna got married and moved into the same community when their daughter, Maureen, was born. That was three years ago." I go silent again.

Duo asks, with some confusion in his voice, "They're seventeen-year-old parents? And a teacher?"

I blink, then look up at him. "No. Why would you think that?" I must admit I'm confused. The alcohol doesn't help.

"Well, I assumed they were our age," Duo says, though he doesn't seem sure, anymore.

I shake my head. "All eight of us were 'finished,' so to speak, at different times. Emiko was first, in 171, then Carr and Karin in pretty quick succession in 173, followed by Kai in 174, Anna in 175, Jae in 177, me in 180, and Ethan in 182." I blink at him. "They didn't just make one batch, then quit."

Duo chuckles. "See, there's my problem. I assume things." He pauses again. "So the teacher is twenty-six, and the married couple are twenty-three and twenty-two?"

I nod. "Yeah. Anna's actually pregnant again, due sometime in December." I can't seem to make out long sentences anymore. I've said so much today, maybe I wore out my voice. "I think I talked too much today. I'm running out of words." I pause again. "And waxing poetic. I think it's time for bed." And I stand, which surprises Duo, as he looks up at me in some form of shock.

"Uhm, okay," he replies, and stands as well.

The last thought I have before falling into bed is that maybe, just maybe, it really did feel good to get all that off my chest. And I've really, really not been myself all day.