Prism tucked Jackson in, brushing his knuckles across the boy's cheek tenderly. Lucy came in and smiled at him then piled another blanket on top of her son. His fifth chemo treatment had happened that day, and he had complained of being cold. The weather was wintry outside, with a smattering of snowflakes from Jack Frost visiting Jackson a few days before to give him a snow day while he felt okay. Jack had been invisible to Lucy still, but that was no longer the case for Prism.

She followed him out to the kitchen, and he poured freshly-made coffee into two mugs. He doctored her drink with sugar and milk and added milk to his own. He sat down at the table and sighed tiredly. Lucy relaxed into her chair and took a grateful sip of her drink.

"Well, it's going okay, don't you think?" Lucy asked.

Prism smiled. She often subtly probed his knowledge for information about the status of Jackson's cancer and the various cases he'd seen over the years.

"It's going well. He's taken to the new treatment well."

Lucy nodded. She was relieved that there had been a donation for Jackson to get the new chemo drug. It was a miracle. She sipped her coffee, running her eyes over Prism's thin, bright face. He had changed in the years since he'd saved her life, but in good ways. His skin was lighter, and when he smiled, it was almost crystalline. It was an otherworldly look, but it fit him well. He also didn't seem as low as he used to, and she knew he smiled a lot more now. And she knew what had changed him, too.

Over the past few months, after Lucy could properly hear him. Prism had told the tale of himself and Jack going out into space to face the Shadow Man. To Jackson, the thrilling tale was one of adventure and fun. But in the hours when they were alone, Lucy found out far more about Shadow Man and what he had done to Prism than what he told her son. She now saw Prism in a far different light, a more mature light, but it didn't detract from his reputation. She also knew now why Prism was reluctant to try and talk to Jamie. Pitch Black might have been a savior to her, but to him, he was a monster.

Jackson called out weakly from his room, and Lucy stood up and went to see what he needed. Prism waited until he heard her voice then slipped into the bathroom to find a mirror. He'd had another panic attack three days before when he'd seen Jamie coming inside, and he'd clawed himself open worse than ever. It was a constant burning ache, and he needed to check on a couple of them. Hopefully Lucy would be busy for a couple of minutes.

He bumped the door closed, not noticing it bounce off the frame and shrugged out of his trench coat. Every movement sent fire across his torso and arms. He raised his shirt and grimaced, not hearing Lucy call for him as he stared morosely at the damage. The lines were everywhere, most in various stages of healing. The fresh ones were bright pink and angry. How many times had this happened by now? Sixteen? Twenty? Twenty-five? He'd lost count. But he was certainly putting a dent in the healing items on the Moon Clipper. Lunar would find out soon, and then what would he do?

Prism was startled out of his thoughts as the door was pushed open.

"It's in the second drawer," she was saying, and then she froze.

Prism yanked his shirt down, all the color draining from his face as she gaped at him. He swallowed.

"What is it he needs?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Motrin," she whispered, her eyes wide and her face pale.

Prism jerked the drawer open and grabbed the medicine. He shoved it into her hands and bolted past her into the living room. His mind was whirling. Should he leave? No, no, she didn't deserve that. She knew all about his screwed-up past.

But this isn't in the past, it's in the present, a little voice said in his head. And that makes all the difference.

Prism went toward the back door, frightened and ashamed, but he paused as he grasped the doorknob. He couldn't just leave her with that burned into her brain. It had taken a few weeks for her to see him properly, and that image was one she didn't need. He swallowed and removed his hand from the doorknob, turning around. Lucy was there, staring at him with a strange, tense look on her face.

"Are you going to leave?" she asked quietly.

Prism couldn't speak. He shook his head, his face burning with shame as he stared at the ground.

"Want to talk about it?"

Prism shook his head, paused, then nodded. Lucy pulled out some cookies and refilled their coffee while he sat down at the table and tried not to run. She set his cup and a plate in front of him then sat down across from him. He immediately began picking at the chocolate chips in the cookies, his fingers trembling. Lucy finally reached over and placed her steady hand on his shaky one.

"Did you do that to yourself?"

Prism hesitated then nodded, his face burning. He couldn't speak.

"What are you using?"

Confused, Prism looked up.

"To cut yourself," she clarified.

Prism let out a bark of laughter that turned into a sob.

"I'm not cutting myself," he said, tears blurring his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the hot tears streak his cheeks.

"Then what happened?" She sounded more relaxed. "Some kind of accident?"

"No."

Lucy waited for a minute. "Well? Did you do it on purpose?"

"No."

She grew frustrated. "What happened, Prism? It's not an accident and it's not on purpose? They don't look like scars. They look fresh." There was a long pause, and Prism nibbled on a cookie. "Well?"

Prism swallowed and sighed. "I've been having panic attacks," he ground out reluctantly.

Lucy pursed her lips. "Panic attacks?"

Prism nodded morosely. "A lot of panic attacks. I lose myself and end up hurting myself because of my magic."

"Why are you hurting yourself?" she asked in dismay. When Prism flinched, she calmed down and changed the question. "What causes you to hurt yourself? Can you remember why?"

"I don't have any control over it. It's something like I have to tear Shadow Man out of me. So I try and rip him out." Prism's face was still burning.

Lucy stood up and hurried toward Jackson's room. She came back a minute later and stood in front of him.

"Let me see what you've done to yourself."

Prism paled, shaking his head, but Lucy stood firm.

"I want to see if I can help. You've been shifting and wincing a lot today. I didn't know what it was. But now I do. Maybe I can help."

"Jackson?" Prism asked.

"Sound asleep."

Prism pursed his lips then gingerly removed his shirt, wincing when he lifted his arms. Lucy's face was white as she leaned forward and observed the maze of gouges that ran up and down Prism's torso and arms. He sat very still, keeping his eyes on the wall and wondering if his face would melt. She clicked her tongue.

"You've been putting medicine on them?"

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"Nothing you'd know. Stuff from other planets."

She nodded then left for the bathroom. She came back with a small container of cream and, without a word, began to dab it onto the inflamed skin around the cuts. The cool wave that washed across his skin made him sigh and sag in relief. He wondered vaguely why Lunar didn't have medicines from Earth in his collection. Some of them were good, even though most weren't.

When she was done with the cream, she placed it on the table and went back to the bathroom. She came back with another tube and began to smear the ointment into the cuts. It stung, despite her being gentle, but Prism watched curiously. She cared about him enough to try and help, in her own, very human way. He knew that the medicines wouldn't work as well as some of the other things he used, but it was still a relief to know that she cared.

She set aside the tube and washed her hands at the kitchen sink. "I don't suppose the others know about this," she said.

Prism pursed his lips. "No," he said shyly. He slipped his shirt back on and sat back.

"Why not?"

"I haven't told them."

"Why not?" Lucy repeated.

Prism swallowed. How could he get out of this? After thinking for a few moments, he realized that a part of him didn't want to. He needed to talk about what was going on. Lucy couldn't talk to anybody about it. She didn't mention him around Jamie, and the subject matter would be kept from Jackson. But most importantly, she couldn't speak to the Guardians. He took a deep breath then began to spill his guts to Lucy.

She sat and listened as he explained about the first panic attack taking him by surprise, how he'd become too ashamed and afraid to tell the truth, how he didn't want to bother them with his problems, how he'd lied to Jack after he'd promised to never lie if he was honest, and how it had spiraled out of control from there. He talked about his confusion and his fear and his insecurities, saying things that he hadn't even realized he was feeling as tears slid down his cheeks and he trembled from his overwhelming emotions. When he was done, he placed his head in his hands and wept, overcome with just how deep he had dug himself into his lies.

Lucy came around and embraced Prism, holding him close and murmuring like she did with Jackson. He cried what felt like an ocean of tears as she comforted him, and when he sat up fifteen minutes later, he felt lighter. One glance at his hand told him that his skin was nearly crystalline again, and he leaned back and swallowed, rubbing away the tears with his long-sleeved shirt.

"Thank you," he said, taking a bite of a cookie.

Lucy went back to sit across from Prism and snagged a cookie off his plate.

"Are you going to tell them?" she asked softly.

Prism appreciated that she wasn't demanding that he tell them. He chewed thoughtfully as he considered his options.

"I don't know," he finally answered honestly. "It's terrible to not know, but I don't know if I can face them. Especially Jack."

"Are you sure you can handle not telling them? It's obviously tearing you apart."

Prism sighed. "I don't know," he repeated. "I need to, but…"

"Well, promise me you'll think about it, Prism."

"I'll try," Prism said. "I need to build up some courage."

She smiled. "Isn't that your thing?"

"There are different types. Fighting Shadow Man took one kind. It would have been easy for me to die for my friends. But to tell them I've done something as bad as keeping secrets from them? I don't have that kind of courage."

"What about when you talked to Lunar in the tunnels on Tenebris?" Lucy asked.

Prism considered this carefully. "It was different. I had been abused by Shadow Man, but I personally hadn't lied to him."

Lucy nodded. "Well, think about it. You'd better go."

Prism looked startled. "Why? Are you angry?"

"No. But you said you have the panic attacks when you see Jamie. He'll be home in ten minutes."

"Oh," Prism stood up and looked around for his coat. "Have you seen—" he began.

"In the bathroom. You forgot it when I came in."

Prism smiled wryly. "Yeah. I was a bit distracted."

He retrieved his coat and slung it on. As he was leaving, Lucy pressed the tub of cream into his palm.

"Keep this one. It made a change in your skin tone. I think it helped more than the other."

Prism smiled and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Lucy. For everything."

"Just remember what you promised."

Prism nodded and left, the back door closing behind him with a soft click. As he launched himself into the air, he looked down at the cream and smiled. That had been unexpected, he thought, but needed, too. But he wondered if he could bring himself to tell the other Guardians the truth. After so many lies, what would they say? He didn't know. And he was afraid once again.