Chapter Two: No Family, No Home, No Hope

As soon as Alanna saw his face, she knew what had happened. Reaching out, she grabbed her brother's hand and tugged him away from their school. They'd already reviewed what they'd need to do, so she was able to take the lead without asking anything. Once the redhead got them clear of the milling crowd of after-school students, she asked, "She did it?"

"Yeah," Lance confirmed. "You know, for a minute, I thought she wouldn't do it." He swallowed hard. "She accused me of betraying them."

"But she still did it?"

Rough, Lance nodded. "I thought…I thought maybe she was getting it, sis. I thought maybe she'd give us a chance." His expression crumpled. "I must've said something wrong. One sec, she wasn't gonna do it, then she just stood up and demanded to know how to trigger it." Looking down, he admitted, "She said I've never loved anyone in my life."

"That's not true!" Alanna insisted, horrified; without hesitation, she hugged her brother fiercely, feeling him tremble under her arms. "You love me, you love them, and you did the best you could, big brother mine."

He laughed at her deliberate reference to his brief De-Aged stint. "Thanks, little sister." For several seconds, he hugged her back, then pulled away, roughly wiping away the moisture on his face. "We should go magic-side before we use the Time-Turner. I already scouted out a good place."

"Did you go home and pack?"

The brunet shook his head. "Packed everything last night, 'cept for what I needed today."

"Denu didn't notice?"

A sardonic grin tipped his jaw. "I used an illusion; he didn't see a thing."

Alanna bit her lip, but didn't comment. Truthfully, she wasn't sure she approved of Lance's extreme solution to the 'Marina problem'. A large part of her still believed they should've tried harder to bring their concerns to their uncle rather than running away and ensuring they couldn't be followed. But maybe she was wrong; her Animagus form was a phoenix, so she just couldn't pick up on the underlying subtleties like Lance could. If Uncle Greg's gryphon side really did regard Miss Marina as his mate, then nothing they said or did would've made a difference. And since Miss Marina had invoked the ritual, well… Her stance was clear; if they'd been about to lose their home anyway, then maybe it was better to leave on their own terms.

"So we pack and get out of there…then what?"

Lance held up a key. "I set up an apartment ages ago. It's all ready for us to move in; I can give you your own key once we get there."

Alanna nodded, pushing away any thoughts of regret. "Close to school?"

"Yeah; we should be able to walk most days," Lance confirmed. "I'm thinking, if it turns out to be a good place, we can stay there till you graduate, then find another place. See what we can do for college or something."

"Here?"

Lance squirmed. "I, um, I was actually thinking the States," he admitted. "If we stay here, we're just gonna be that much closer to them."

"You don't think it will ever break?" Alanna asked, surprised.

Her brother wouldn't meet her eyes. "Miss Marina, she's really smart. I didn't tell her about the release phrase, but I did say it could be broken. I bet she won't take any chances."

"And now it doesn't even have a time limit," the redhead whispered.

Brunet locks shook in reply. "I'm sorry, little sister. I…" He stopped, expression crumpling all over again. "I didn't want her to do it, but I had to make it real. It couldn't be just a trick or a bluff."

Reaching up, Alanna pulled her big brother into another hug, overlooking his use of 'little sister' just the once. She was angry he'd risked their family like that, but how much worse would it have been if it had been a bluff? That would've just made Miss Marina angrier.

It was easy to sneak in, pack, and erase all traces of their presence in the apartment. Lance lingered over the photos, wincing internally at how they'd changed, removing any sign of himself or his sister. Even in his and… In Dean's room, his cousin's posters now covered the walls, rather than being restricted to just his two sides of the room. Lance was grateful he'd done most of his packing the night before; picking through the mess now on the floor was an adventure all in itself.

Alanna's room hadn't changed; her magical signature was warding off the ritual, though it would collapse once her things were removed. With his own things packed, Lance helped her take everything down and get it all in their family trunks; he'd gotten a brand-new trunk for his own room, just so Alanna could have the other two. He'd flipped the Time-Turner back to the morning, aiming for just after Dean's departure, anticipating an all-day project to clear out, but they were done in much less time than that.

While Alanna handled removing any signs that they'd come back, Lance crept to his uncle's room and located the gun safe he used for his backup weapon. The young man didn't have the keys, but a soft, "Tóspringe," opened the safe. Resting his hand on his uncle's personal Glock 17, he fought back the urge to sob or maybe take the weapon with him, but resisted both impulses. Instead, he carefully arranged an envelope on top of the gun and eased the safe closed. Holding down the lid, he murmured, "Belūce (1)," nodding at the click from the internal locks. For a moment longer, his hands rested on the safe's lid, then he drew in another breath and put the safe back in its hiding place.

Gold gleamed in his eyes as he left the room, erasing his footprints in the carpet as he collected his belongings and joined Alanna at the door. "Got everything, sis?"

She patted both jeans' pockets. "I'm ready."

With a nod, Lance turned to regard their uncle's apartment. Anguish licked, but it was easy to push away. They didn't belong here; they never had. Lifting his chin, he whispered, "May Aslan bless you and keep you. May Aslan cause His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May He bless you with His love and grant you His peace." For another beat, he hesitated, then added a soft, "Shalom," as he bowed his head in a formal gesture of respect.

Alanna didn't say anything as they stepped outside the apartment for the last time. The brunet pulled the door shut and locked it, murmuring a security spell to ensure it would only open for Uncle Greg and Dean. Once they came home, the spell would end, but it was one last gesture he could give, even if they'd never know about it.

Setting his shoulders, he turned to his sister; she read his expression and reached out, grabbing his free hand. "So have you even been to the new place?"

"No," Lance confessed. "I was scared to; if I went, that made it all real." A twitch. "I know where we're going, though."

"Okay."

Sapphire trailed back in spite of his resolve not to. Pushing back a sniffle, Lance forced his attention back to what they needed to do next. He couldn't change what he'd done, couldn't take back the ritual he'd set in motion. All he could do was keep moving forward.

The apartment building wasn't what he'd expected. The way Silvergrip had described it, it was a very new, luxury type apartment complex. All new appliances, hardwood flooring, plush carpeting in the bedrooms and a large walk-in closet. Tile in the bathroom and a generous tub, coupled with plenty of storage options for the siblings. The building itself, Silvergrip had claimed, was a mix of modern and traditional. Brick walls, but a swimming pool inside the complex as well as a mail room, a package room, and the very latest in fitness. Very posh, very appropriate for two young pureblood scions accustomed to the technological world.

The reality was a rundown building with peeling paint, sagging steps, and the distinct scent of pet in the damp, disgusting stairwells. There wasn't any leasing office that Lance could see and the very atmosphere of the place felt dark and oppressive. His skin crawled and it was a fight to keep his magic from surging out as his Animagus instincts snapped on high alert. He could feel the eyes on him and his sister, sense the insects scurrying in the walls, along with other pests. This wasn't what he'd bargained for at all.

When they reached the apartment door, he relaxed a hair; defensive wards, keyed to him and Alanna, along with a secondary ward he couldn't immediately identify, but was probably meant to keep the building's undesirable, unwelcome guests at bay. Pulling out the apartment key, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Caution whispered and he turned, ushering Alanna in ahead of him. Letting his magical aura out a hair, the teenager shifted, sapphire glittering as he met the eyes of a rough, ragged man standing in the doorway of a nearby apartment. He didn't speak, letting his rippling magic speak for him; the leer on the man's face made his intentions clear, but he'd die before he let anyone hurt his little sister.

Stepping sideways, Lance felt for the door and pushed it shut, smiling grimly as security wards snapped back into place. Good. So long as they were inside the apartment, they were safe. Closing his eyes, he let his magic flow outwards. Not enough to harm any electronics, but if they had a pest problem, he wanted to know upfront. After a few seconds, he nodded and leaned back from the door. Just like he'd hoped; the pests were being kept out by the goblins' apartment wards.

Turning around, the brunet surveyed the inside of their new living quarters. The furniture looked nice, pretty much what he'd requested, but the apartment itself… Ugh…talk about false advertising. The ceiling appeared to be sagging in spots and the cabinets had seen much better days; they were worn, faded, and chipped in spots. The sink looked like something out of a gas station bathroom and he was honestly afraid to go look at the bathroom. If the kitchen/living room area was this bad… Oh, man, why hadn't Silvergrip told him about any of this?

"Lance? Are you sure we're in the right place?" Alanna asked, expression uncertain.

"It's the right address," her brother replied, grimacing. "And my key worked, so yeah, this is…" He waved at the apartment. "This is it."

Her face scrunched up. "It's pathetic!"

"I know," Lance agreed, his whole posture one of utter misery. "This isn't anything like what Silvergrip told me." Glancing around, the teen added, "He made it sound like one of those luxury apartments Uncle Greg decided against 'cause they were so expensive."

"And we have to stay here?"

Slumping back against the door, Lance forced himself to nod. "I'm sorry, sis, but we can't go back. Not unless the ritual breaks."

"Well, what about a hotel or something?" Alanna demanded.

The young man slumped even further down. " 'Lanna, sis…we can't." At the mulish look on her face, he hurried to explain. "Rebuilding the manor took a lot of money, but we can't commute to school from Britain every day. We've got to be here in Toronto. Then we invested in that company for the SRU; it's doing better than it was, but it's still really shaky and it probably won't turn a profit till we're older."

"So we're broke?" Alanna asked, frightened.

Lance rubbed his face. "No, we're not, but we sure can't throw money around like we could've before." He gestured to the apartment, morose. "I know it's a dump, sis, but we're paying luxury apartment rent for it. The lease I signed is for a year and since the goblins negotiated it for us, it's basically a Gringotts contract. We definitely can't afford two apartments at once."

It took several minutes, but finally Alanna nodded acceptance. Gazing down, her own shoulders slumped. "I wish…"

Her brother reached her in one stride, pulling her into his chest as she cried. He closed his eyes, but didn't cry. He had done this, he'd done all of it. He didn't deserve to cry. If he'd been a better brother, he would've checked the apartment over himself instead of blindly trusting Silvergrip. But he hadn't and now they were trapped. All he could hope for now was that his secret backup plan would work. He'd hesitated over doing it, but more and more, he had a feeling they were gonna need it.

Alanna recoiled when the bathroom faucet squeaked and the water ran brown – they had to live here? Lance grimaced at the color and headed back out to the kitchen; she heard the sink's faucet squeak on. To her horrified fascination, the brown hue of the water thinned out as the liquid continued to run down the drain. It took almost three minutes, but the water finally ran clean. Wary, the redhead moved to the tub and shower, unsurprised to see the same horrid hue of brown from the taps. What a dump.

She turned to see her brother in the doorway and propped her hands on her hips. "Are you serious, Lancelot? We have to live here?"

Sighing, Lance brushed brunet locks out of his eyes. "The water's running clean now, sis. Maybe it was just a onetime thing?"

"And what about the bugs?" Alanna demanded, shuddering at the very thought.

"The wards are keeping them out," her brother countered. "Look, I'm not happy either. I can start looking for another place, but even if I find something…" He stopped, wincing.

Defiance drained away. "We still can't afford to move," she finished dully.

"Not until the lease runs out," Lance confirmed sorrowfully. As if in agreement, the plumbing chose that moment to start rattling.

For several seconds, the siblings stared at the shower, then Alanna asked, "There's a balcony, right?"

"Yeah."

Pretending to consider, Alanna reached out and turned off the shower tap. "Well, judging by what we've seen so far…"

"Let's not risk it," Lance agreed. "I'll make sure it's locked up tight."

"Copy."

About to leave, the young man paused. "Sis?" When she glanced up, he said, "Go ahead and pick out whichever room you want. I'll take the other one, okay?"

The redhead bit her lip, but nodded agreement. Seeing as her beloved brother had gotten them into this mess, it was only right that she got the first pick of this lousy apartment's bedrooms. With that in mind, she flounced from the bathroom to inspect the bedrooms.

Once he'd blocked off the balcony, Lance stopped by his sister's room long enough to tell her to keep the door locked while he was gone, then slipped out to head for the nearest grocery store. Lousy as the apartment was, when he'd investigated the refrigerator, freezer, and microwave, all three worked just fine. They were beat-up and pathetic, but at least they worked; that was the important thing, especially since surviving on dry cereal and Pop Tarts was an unappealing concept.

The teenager locked the apartment door behind him, managing a faint smile when the security wards snapped into place as well. He felt eyes on him and straightened, letting his magical aura roll out before he turned, landing his best challenging stare on their neighbor just down the hall. It was the same rough, ragged man from earlier; underneath his greasy blond hair and pallid complexion, he sneered, but turned away, pointedly ignoring the brunet.

Satisfied he'd cowed the cretin, at least for the moment, Lance headed down the hall in the opposite direction, making a face to himself at the thought of tackling the stairs, day after day. He held his breath, but even without his Animagus form's keen sense of smell, the stairwell stank. The whole building… Alanna was right, it was a dump, but until the lease was up, they were stuck. Even after the lease was up, Lance wasn't sure where they could go. He'd always believed his family had plenty of gold, but once he'd taken up the Headship… Running a hand through his hair, the young man grimaced. The family vault was right on the cusp of being depleted, with only the interest from a few older investments keeping them afloat. The newer investments would take years to bear fruit, especially since they were all in the still fledgling field of mixing magic and technology. With Uncle Wordy and Uncle Greg still taking care of them, it hadn't mattered, but now…

There was enough to get them through the year, but if they wanted to keep going to St. John's, the shabby, poorer sections of town would likely be the best they could afford. And he'd probably have to put off college until Alanna graduated; once he hit eighteen, then he could start working without needing any input from a guardian. Even if it was just a job flipping burgers, it might be enough to keep Alanna in school. That was the important part; he had to look out for his sister, just like he'd promised their father. So long as she was happy and safe, his own dreams didn't matter. He'd already screwed up the 'happy' part; he couldn't let her down any more than that.

The air outside wasn't all that cold, but Lance still shivered, hugging himself to keep warm. Maybe he hadn't thought this whole grand plan all the way through… It was too late now, though. No way back; they didn't have a home to go back to. Staring down at the ground, the teenager let one tear slip down his face.

By the time Lance came back, Alanna had unpacked her clothing. There was a sturdy bookcase in her room, but she was reluctant to pull any of her belongings out of the relative safety of her trunks. She couldn't leave the clothing packed, though, and she'd need her backpack for school, so the redhead enlarged both trunks, placed them next to each other, and set her backpack on top of the trunk closest to the door.

Despite her anger towards her brother, Alanna headed out to their living room and found where Lance had left his own shrunken trunk on the low wooden coffee table. While he worked to put two bags of groceries away in the refrigerator and on the counter, she picked up his trunk with a tiny sigh and took it into the second bedroom. Setting the tiny trunk down at the foot of the bed, Alanna tapped the miniscule family crest and stepped back as the trunk grew back to its full size. Both brows rose; aside from the smell of brand-new leather, her brother's trunk was identical to the two in her own room. Gently, she stroked their family crest, smiling wistfully as her mind's eye painted in the image of her parents and the cousin-cum-uncle she'd come to love just as dearly.

Bowing her head, the young woman let the tears come for the life they'd had and lost.

The next morning, Lance escorted his sister out of the apartment, letting his aura flare in warning to any leering onlookers. Even if every last one of them was pure techie, only a fool of the first order would miss his tall, solid build mixed with the distinct impression of predator. Though the walls seemed to have eyes, most of them leering, their so-called neighbors kept their distance. Unless they got up close, none of them would see the magic sparkling in his gaze – and the young man's instincts hummed warning, cautioning him that the rough men would only respect force. So long as he maintained his predator impression, he could keep the ravening wolves at bay, but the teenager was keenly aware that if ever they realized it was just a bluff, he might not be able to protect his precious baby sister from their jaws.

Shifting his stance, Lance shadowed Alanna, allowing the protective nature of his Animagus form out. No matter what, he had to protect her. He'd already taken away their one remaining safety net and made his sister cry herself to sleep. As he'd lain awake, wishing he could comfort her, he'd heard a soft scratching noise from the door. The security wards had defeated the attempt to violate the siblings' one remaining sanctuary, but in the face of Silvergrip's deception, Lance had to wonder what else the goblin had lied to him about. It hadn't been until the wee hours of the morning that exhaustion had won the battle. He was still tired, but that didn't matter. It couldn't matter, not with his sister at risk.

Without Dean or Clark around to help, homework became exponentially harder for the siblings, particularly since they were also dealing with the grief of losing their entire support system in one fell swoop. As Lance had planned, they hid the truth from their teachers and classmates; any documents that needed their uncle's signature were carefully forged by the older teenager. Although a few of their classmates remarked on not seeing their uncle's car in the parking lot, it was easy to pretend that their apartment was close enough to walk and their uncle needed to focus on his new job anyway.

With Lance's constant support, Alanna managed to maintain her grades despite all the hardships, but failed to notice just how much her older brother was struggling to cope. Between the grief, the loss of support, and worsening sleep deprivation, Lance's grades began to slip. Every night, he maintained his solitary watch until exhaustion finally dragged him down into a few hours slumber, refusing to let his sister figure out how unsafe their new home was. At school, he kept his head down, fighting to master concepts that seemed just beyond his grasp. Didn't matter anyway; despite his background and every advantage, he'd thrown it all away and now the best he could hope for was a steady blue-collar job. He wouldn't need good grades for that.

Day by day, the situation worsened. Though the apartment had been advertised as having a washer and dryer, in reality, there was only one set for the entire building. Lance insisted on handling all the laundry himself, unwilling to put his sister at risk, but it was yet another burden on his young shoulders, one that only served to wear him down even more as he fought to maintain the illusion of someone too dangerous to cross.

The apartment's oven limped through the first three days, then gave out with a bellow and belch of smoke that sent Alanna running for cover while Lance hurled a raw magical shield around the dying appliance to contain the fire. Sheer willpower kept the magic contained; their microwave, refrigerator, and freezer survived, but Lance spent the next several days nursing a migraine. The kitchen itself added smoke stains to its collection of faded paint, chips, and dents, and the scent of burning lingered.

Inside of a week, Alanna stopped talking to her brother, incensed over the poor quality of the apartment and Lance's insistence on never letting her go out alone. Beyond her anger at his behavior was a lingering, festering resentment for the ritual he'd constructed. If he'd never done that, then they'd still be home. They'd still be safe in their uncle's loving arms. If only Lance had been willing to talk to their uncle, maybe they could've solved the problem another way.

Lance didn't attempt to defend himself. Truth be told, Alanna was right; if forced to choose, their uncle would've chosen them in a split second. Therein lay the problem. They'd already stolen so much from their uncle and his friends… How dare they add more stress to Uncle Greg's already burdened shoulders by insisting he choose between the woman he loved and two pathetic orphan rejects who'd been dumped on his doorstep one morning. It was wrong; Uncle Greg deserved a life of his own. As soon as he'd seen how much Uncle Greg loved Miss Marina, he'd sought out advice for how to handle the situation. Though he'd argued and fought against that advice at first, in the end, he'd been right. The only honorable thing to do had been to let his uncle go. Let him live his own life, unencumbered by two ungrateful pureblood brats who couldn't seem to stop hurting the very same person they claimed to love.

Miss Marina would make Uncle Greg happy; after so many years of being lonely, Uncle Greg deserved someone who could make him light up like that. Someone who'd be there whenever the job got tough, who could draw him out and keep him from bottling everything up. Someone who Uncle Greg could rely on, no matter what happened. They loved each other; without him or his sister, they could finally be together. That was the important thing, even if it meant the man who'd been like a second father to them could walk past them on the street and never know what they'd been to him.

Beyond that, the only other thing that mattered was keeping his sister safe. He had to keep his promise to their father. No matter what the cost.

[1] Old English for 'to lock up'