So like everyone else with a working internet connection, I've been following the GameStop stock drama. Maybe quarantine has skewed my perceptions, but it's so freaking funny to me. Anyway, apparently one of the Reddit dudes behind it uses a Magic 8 ball to pick what stocks to invest in. This is totally how Thaddeus got rich rather than taking money from his dad.


"All hands on deck!"

Freddy shut off his phone and dropped it in his lap. He leaned a hand forward. As soon as he did, Darla grabbed it with her own. The force behind her squeeze could have brought tears to a professional wrestler's eyes.

"Anyone up for saying the blessing tonight?" Victor asked, looking between everyone. His eyes met Freddy's.

Darla gave his hand another squeeze.

Freddy bowed his head. "We thank you for our family and we thank you for this food!" As soon as the last word left his lips, he pulled his hand back to his side, nearly knocking his glass of water over in the process.

"Someone must be hungry," Rosa commented, pursing her lips.

Freddy's face flamed. Did it matter if he spoke fast? It wasn't as if he was sending his pleas to anyone in particular.

"Maybe we're not praying to anyone," Victor had told him after their very first dinner together. "I don't really know. But giving thanks is giving thanks. As long as you look hard enough, you'll always find something to be thankful for."

Maybe his words were heard by Zeus or Thor or Uiara or whoever. Maybe they weren't. Did it really matter? "Unadoptable" or not, some greater karmic power had seen it fit to give him superpowers.

He looked down to his plate. Freddy might not have meant the last part. Whoever invented tofu steak was guilty of international war crimes. Picking up his fork, Freddy poked at cut up carrot pieces.

"Anyone got any news?" Victor asked.

"My team won at dodge ball in gym today!" Darla beamed. "I even hit someone!"

"Really?" Eugene asked. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Don't make her prove it to you," Mary said, patting the younger girl on the back.

He raised his hands up. "Okay, I believe you."

"What about you, Eugene?" Rosa asked.

"I got an A on my social studies test!"

Rosa clapped, with Mary and Darla quickly joining in. "Bravo!" she said.

"Wasn't that the one giving you trouble?" Victor asked.

He nodded. "My teacher was really happy."

"You should be really happy!" Rosa replied. She held a hand to her chest. "Oh, I'm so proud of you."

"Speaking of school," Mary said, "I got my acceptance letter to the University of Pennsylvania today."

"Congratulations!" Victor said.

"Is that close?" Darla's eyes were wide.

"It's right here in Philly," Mary said. She pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

"So you aren't leaving?" Darla bounced up and down in her seat, clapping her hands together.

Eugene looked up from his plate. "What about CalTech?"

"I'm still going!" Her words came out a little too fast. "U Penn is just a back up in case something happens with CalTech. It's important to have options."

"It's certainly a good school." Rosa said.

"But," Victor added, "we'll support you no matter where you go."

"But why go to California if you can stay here?" Darla leaned her hand across the table, grabbing Mary's own.

"People leave," Mary responded. "It doesn't mean that they don't care about you anymore, but..."

"But?"

"But sometimes they have better opportunities somewhere else." Mary pressed her lips together tightly. "I'll Skype as much as I can. What if I do it every night? Maybe you'll get sick of me!"

Darla laughed. "Never!"

"California's beautiful," Freddy said.

As soon as the words left his lips, all eyes were on him. His throat tightened. Freddy finally understood why so many people would rather be invisible than able to fly.

"Billy's from there," he continued, looking down to his plate, "and he loves it."

"Billy?" Rosa asked, her face brightening. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, uh..." Freddy looked over to Pedro, who was already finished with three-quarters of his dinner. Maybe if he finally developed that ever elusive acquired taste for tofu then he wouldn't end up in situations like this again. "He and his dad are doing great. They've never been better."

What his family didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"That's wonderful! Do you know if he'll be returning to Philadelphia any time soon?"

"I have no idea."

"Got any other news?" Victor asked.

"You've been so quiet lately," Mary added. She kicked him under the table.

Freddy grimaced. "Uh, not really."

What was he supposed to say, that Brett had given him an uppercut two days earlier and his chest still hurt? That he'd gotten a D on his last health quiz - the class that a monkey could pass if you gave it a pencil?

"I found a nickel on the ground today!" It wasn't even a lie.

Eugene whistled. "You rich yet?"

Rosa beamed. "What luck!"

Well, it wasn't as if he'd actually picked it up. Getting back on his feet would have taken almost two minutes - time he didn't have when he needed to get to sixth period. A detention slip wasn't worth five cents.

"Anything else?" Mary asked. "You're always busy now."

What was she, an undercover CIA agent?

"I can't help that I have homework!" He narrowed his eyes. "You'd understand that, wouldn't you?"

Mary's face tightened. "I'm glad you're finally starting to take school seriously." She swallowed a forkful of peas, her gaze never leaving him.

"Now remember, no fighting," Rosa said. "Freddy, your schoolwork is important." Her forehead wrinkled. "Still, you've been spending an awful lot of time on it lately. Don't over exert yourself."

"Don't worry," Freddy said.

Don't worry at all.

Victor grinned. "I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I got an extra commission at work today!"

Freddy joined in the table wide applause. Now that everyone's eyes were off of him, he felt ten pounds lighter.

He swallowed a few cold peas down with half his cup of water. Looking at his plate for too long made his stomach flip like a pancake. Freddy slumped forward in his chair.

"And that's not the only good news," Victor continued.

Freddy looked up, his eyes wide. He'd only been half paying attention.

"Ooh, what?" Darla clasped her hands together. "Are we finally going to Disney World?"

"If only," Victor replied.

Darla's face fell.

"This," he continued, "is better than Disney World."

"Don't leave us hanging," Mary said.

"Yeah," Eugene said. "What's the big deal?"

"I know it's sudden, but Josie's coming for dinner next Wednesday!"

Rosa leaned forward, causing her plate to shake. "Really? She never told me!"

"She asked me to keep it a secret." He laughed. "So when she drops by next week, be sure to act surprised!"

"Who's Josie?" Darla cocked her head to the side.

"Oh, honey," Rosa said, "she's one of our former foster kids."

"She moved out before you came to live with us," Mary added.

"Like Mike?" Darla asked.

Victor nodded. "She's stopping to visit before she heads to a conference in Pittsburgh."

"See?" Mary said, looking to Darla. "She may have left, but she still cares about us."

Darla frowned. "She didn't come home for Christmas."

"You can blame the weather for that." Victor said. "There was a blizzard in Manton."

People like Josie and Mike - former residents of Vasquez Manor - were living proof that there was life after foster care.

For her sake, Freddy could only hope that they served better food when she visited. If not, she might never return!

Not that it really mattered in his case. He could fly up to about any restaurant he wanted to and leave with free food. Superheroics wasn't entirely thankless work.

Just what should he get that night - Mexican, burgers, or pizza? Ooh, Chinese sounded pretty good right then.

"Freddy, is something wrong?'

He looked up, meeting Rosa's gaze. "What?"

"You've hardly touched your dinner."

He bit his lip. "I'm really not that hungry."

"Are you sick?" Her face paled.

"No! I'm already full, okay?" He couldn't meet her gaze. "I was just really hungry when I got home from school. Guess I raided the fridge more than I thought." He pushed his plate forward.

"Mijo, are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Well, if everyone kept staring at him, there was no telling what might end up littered across the table.

"I'm kind of tired, actually." He yawned. "I had trouble sleeping last night."

"Go get some rest," Victor said. "I hope you feel better in the morning."

Freddy picked up his plate and hurried to the kitchen.

As soon as he got to his room, he locked the door. Leaning against the wall, he let out a long sigh. For all the countless hours spent daydreaming about getting superpowers, he'd never once considered the possibility of obtaining them and still being, well, himself. Being able to fly didn't keep nosy siblings away or get homework finished.

He made his way to his bed, pulling out his phone.

Batmanatee: Glitter_Girl you online?

Glitter_Girl: I thought I changed this!

Glitter_Girl has changed her name to Draumskrok.

Batmanatee: Well, I mean, you did...

Batmanatee has changed Draumskrok's name to Glitter_Girl.

Glitter_Girl: ...

Batmanatee: Hey, it's my chat room!

Glitter_Girl: Uh, whatever!

Glitter_Girl is typing...

Glitter_Girl: So are you still able to come over Friday?

Batmanatee: Of course!

Freddy leaned further into his bed. Truth be told, sleep didn't sound too bad right that moment.

Batmanatee: You think he has any idea about this?

Glitter_Girl: What do you think?

Batmanatee: Ok fair.

Batmanatee is typing...

Batmanatee: Do you need me to bring over anything?

Glitter_Girl: Nah, Mom and I have everything here.

Batmanatee: Ok. See ya. I'm gonna take a nap.

Glitter_Girl: Sleep tight.

Batmanatee has logged off.


"Hey, Thad, are you sure you don't want any?" Mordecai pushed the flask into Thaddeus' hands, which were folded upwards in his lap. "I think it'd do you some good."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. And my name isn't Thad!"

Mordecai laughed. "See? This'd really help with that stick you've always got shoved up your ass." He unscrewed the metal top and took a long sip. Thaddeus could only guess at what was inside.

"Someone," he said, poking his friend's side with his elbow, "has to drive."

With the way things were going that night, he very well might have to carry his roommate back to the car. They were less than a quarter of a mile from the parking lot, but it was anyone's guess if Mordecai would still be able to stand once the movie ended.

As an on-campus event, alcohol was forbidden. That said, Thaddeus highly doubted that the students overseeing the campus movie night - kids his own age - cared if anyone got wasted. He'd seen more than a few other attendees passing flasks and bottles between one another with little discretion.

He and Mordecai were sitting with some other guys from their physics class. Some looked so drunk that he doubted they were fully aware of what was playing on the screen in front of them. Others had fallen asleep. Only one other guy, a pudgy sophomore named Arnold Lopez, was still awake and sober.

"You got any popcorn left?" Thaddeus asked him.

"If only." He held an empty paper bag out. All that was left inside were un-popped kernels and broken bits.

"I think I'll go grab some more." Thaddeus took the empty bag from him and balled it in his fist.

It was a cool night, no more than sixty degrees at most. The school was showing a low budget slasher movie, the sort of film where seeing one meant seeing them all. He couldn't be sure how many people were still paying attention to it. The flick's tense music and the dark, almost starless sky overhead wasn't enough to distract from the poorly made fake blood and phoned in acting.

The audience consisted of a roughly even mix of people in normal dress and costumes. Thaddeus was firmly in the former camp despite Mordecai's incessant pestering to try and throw an outfit together. Just because his friend wanted to dress all in black, a towel tied around his shoulders and lipstick (just who he'd stolen that from Thaddeus had yet to figure out) smeared down his chin didn't mean that Thaddeus also had to make a fool of himself.

Nearing a painted blue trash barrel, Thaddeus threw the crumpled bag inside. He kept walking straight until he reached the food booth. All popcorn was free with a valid student ID, but everything else cost money. His stomach was light. Pulling out his wallet, he ordered a hot dog and candy bar along with two bags of popcorn.

Other than being surrounded by people and the outdoors, this really wasn't that different from Halloweens of years past. Their father had always found trick or treating to be distasteful (heaven forbid his children beg strangers for anything), so he and Sid had never gotten to roam nearby neighborhoods in search of candy. Instead, they'd spent their nights in front of the TV passing bowls of popcorn and boxes of M&M's between one another, watching whatever old monster movie or cut for prime time horror flick was being shown that evening. Sid would laugh at the special effects and Thaddeus would gasp in faux horror whenever the monster or killer appeared on screen. Oh, for all the times Sid had called him chicken-hearted, Thaddeus had never been phased by these sort of movies. They were always so overblown and too artificial to produce any real terror.

It was, he realized, one of the few things that he and Sid could actually do together. On those nights, it was as if he had an entirely different brother.

Thaddeus made his way back to the oversized picnic blanket that the guys were sharing. Arnold took one of the popcorn bags from him. Mordecai stuck his hand in the other, pulling out a large fistful.

"What took you so long?" He was, Thaddeus noticed, now nursing a different flask. This one was covered in stickers.

"I had to wait for them to make some more popcorn." He took a bite of his hotdog.

Thaddeus had only been half paying attention to the movie before he got up. Now he could hardly tell what was going on. Someone was crawling on the floor, blood gushing from his side, but Thaddeus wasn't sure who. All the characters were merging together in his brain.

He had to admit, bad cinematography aside, this certainly beat spending another Friday night in his dorm room studying. Mordecai hadn't had to pester him to come - at least not that much.

Another kill came. A woman collapsed down a row of stairs, a knife protruding from her back, before falling sideways onto the bottom landing with a wooden thud. A few feet away from them, to the left of Thaddeus' friends, a girl screamed.

"Anyone here scared?" he asked, smirking.

"'M pissing myself," Mordecai said.

"Shit," Martin Schultz mumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up. The cowboy hat he'd worn in had slipped from his head, forgotten a few feet away and turned upside down on the grass. "What'd I miss?"

"Only the good stuff," Arthur responded.

The rest of the movie couldn't have lasted more than thirty minutes. In that time, six more people died, in ways that not only defied the laws of physics but the stretch of imagination itself. Really, it seemed like too much trouble to stuff that quarterback in a broken fridge. A few stabs to the chest would have gotten the same results.

"What did you think?" Mordecai asked. He had to lean an arm around Thaddeus' shoulders but could otherwise walk.

"I hated that twist."

"These things gotta have a sequel, ya know? It's like a law in Hollywood."

"Can't say I'll be first in line to see it."

They waved goodbye to the others, threw away their trash, and then headed for the parking lot. Mordecai was parked near the back.

"Fuck," he muttered. There was a red Fiat Spider parked in the space behind his car. "All these empty spots and someone has to pull up behind me."

His back bumper didn't look dinged.

"Keys?" Thaddeus asked, holding his hand out.

"Yeah, yeah," Mordecai replied. He pulled a key ring from his pocket and clumsily pushed it into Thaddeus' hands. "Don't drive like an idiot."

"I'd never dream of it."

Thaddeus started the car, turning the radio down a few notches, but didn't pull out until the front of the parking lot had mostly cleared. Mordecai was leaning back against the passenger seat, his eyes closed. The black towel had slipped from his shoulders and his bow tie was askew.

"You okay?"

"Mmm."

Thaddeus wasn't sure what that meant, but at least he was answering him.

They were halfway to the dorm, nearing a stoplight, when it happened. Like a drowning man clawing at water in a desperate bid to reach air, Mordecai hurriedly grabbed the window crank but could barely seem to move it. He couldn't have gotten it down more than an inch when he hunched forward and vomited across his knees and feet.

"Jesus Christ!" The light was green, so Thaddeus passed through the four way before pulling to the side of the road. "Are you okay?"

Thaddeus pushed down the window of his own side of the car. The smell was hot and harsh, causing bile to rise in his own throat.

Wordlessly, Mordecai fumbled with his seat belt. Though he pushed and pushed, it wouldn't release - until it did. The door came open much more easily, and he fumbled onto the ground.

"Mordecai!" Thaddeus hurriedly unbuckled and rushed out of the car.

There was vomit littering the concrete and front of Mordecai's shirt. The light was dim, but not enough that Thaddeus couldn't see the tears streaking down his face. Thaddeus' throat tightened. Watching other people cry was disconcerting. He had only ever seen it done in movies. Crying was for other people - weaker people, as his father would say.

"Hey, it's okay!" That was a lie, but what else could Thaddeus say? He reached in the car and pulled out Mordecai's towel. It was mostly dry. "Here, take this."

Mordecai was sitting on his knees now. He took the towel and wiped at his eyes. The only noises he'd made since scrambling out of the car were choked sobs.

"That's..." He held the towel to his face for a few moments. "That was..."

"You've just had too much to drink. Things will be fine in the morning."

Well, maybe. If this was anything like one of Sid's hangovers then he'd be getting an early taste of hell.

"That's my dad's car!"

Thaddeus' heart sped up. He got down on his own knees and took the towel from Mordecai's hands. He patted his shirt, rubbing as much vomit from it as he could.

"It'll be okay, Mordecai. We'll figure something out. Once we clean it, it'll be like nothing ever happened." Thaddeus fought to keep his voice even. "He won't ever have to know."

He couldn't live close by, could he? In all this time, as far as Thaddeus knew, he hadn't so much as made a phone call.

"If we can't get it out, we can always send it to a shop."

Mordecai was still crying. His sobs were loud, his body shaking as if an earthquake was ripping through his bones. Reaching forward, he grabbed Thaddeus and buried his face in his chest. Thaddeus tensed. A touch like this was so foreign that he wasn't sure whether it was better to pull away or put his own arms around Mordecai.

He wasn't certain how long they stayed like that. When Mordecai finally pulled away, his voice hoarse and eyes puffy, Thaddeus stood on shaking legs. He helped him back into his seat, placing the towel over the floor. Then, he got back inside, started the car, and hurried back to campus.

It was only when they parked that Thaddeus noticed the pine tree dangling from the rear view mirror. Yes, there was something that they could do! Getting a new air freshener and leaving the windows down would help get the smell out. Hell, maybe one of the guys in their dorm would know what to do about the floor. Mordecai couldn't be the only bonehead to ever do this kind of thing.

"We'll fix this." Thaddeus said, putting a hand on Mordecai's shoulder. "I promise."


Billy's dad would be disappointed in him if he could see him now. The thought made his stomach tighten into a hard knot.

His voice echoed in Billy's head. "A lot more is riding on your grades than you think."

Billy lay sprawled on his bed in his not-quite room. He was still wearing his pajamas from the night before and had yet to shower. His laptop sat half-closed on his desk, the volume turned low. The last he'd checked, his history teacher was reviewing the highlights of the Crimean War. Billy had spent fifteen minutes trying to follow along, scribbling down half-hearted notes, before he'd left his desk. About seven minutes in, he'd started nodding off. One moment, Ms. Garcia would be listing off important dates for the class to memorize, the next he'd be jolting awake, barely able to comprehend what was in front of him, let alone what was entering his ears.

Before he'd left California, Billy had been given two options: Attend virtual classes or enroll in a new high school. Having picked the former, he was still technically a student at Franklin until the spring semester ended. While the option was usually only reserved for sick kids - a girl in his freshman year geometry class had had to use it when she developed Hodgkin's - Billy's, quote, "unusual circumstances" had also allowed him to qualify.

Had he known what a headache it would be, he might not have bothered signing up. It wasn't just that everyone was two hours behind him. His teachers had too many real students to worry about to give him much attention. The fact that his internet connection was prone to go out at random times certainly wasn't helping matters. Billy couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered sitting through an entire class session. Really, he'd been doing fine so far just by staying on top of reading his textbooks and emailing in his homework.

It wasn't that Billy didn't care about school anymore. He completed his work and studied, even if it felt like everything he learned left his head faster than it entered. It was just hard to care about applying for college within the next year and a half when he couldn't even imagine what would be happening in a week.

Maybe he should have just gone to a new school. He still would have had to do it once this semester ended. Why push off the inevitable? If he had done that already, then at least he'd have a reason to leave the house every day and see other people.

No, Billy realized, he couldn't have done that. Changing schools would just make everything that had happened over the last few weeks all the more permanent.

Billy closed his eyes. He'd spent so much time lately looking at the ceiling that he'd practically memorized its every crack. He spent a few minutes just laying there with his eyes closed, but sleep never came. That wasn't so surprising considering just how much of it he'd been getting lately.

In a way, it felt like his life was largely balanced between two extremes. That inky, dreamless nothingness that ate away the hours when he closed his eyes and the heart racing adrenaline rush whenever he and Freddy changed. Everything else was just window dressing, a blur that filled the time between.

A sudden knock on the door forced his eyes open. Billy sat up, mattress springs creaking as he moved.

"Hello?" he called.

"Did I wake you up?"

Billy rubbed his side. "No. Annie, is something wrong?"

"Can I open the door?"

"Yeah." He stood, stretching his arms out.

Annie was wearing an oversized T-shirt and athletic pants rolled up to the knees. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She had probably come down to use the home gym equipment set up on the other side of the basement.

"What's up?" Billy asked.

"You're going to be ready when we leave for dinner tomorrow night, right?"

Billy's eyebrows knitted together. "It's Thursday?"

Yeah, Aunt Addy had mentioned something about them all going to some kind of business dinner with her. It couldn't have been more than five days since she'd made the announcement, but it felt like months had passed since she brought it up.

"Yeah. You're the only person I know who isn't thrilled that it's almost Friday." She frowned. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." He looked to the wall. "And I can still come tomorrow. Don't worry." He took in a quick, tight breath. "You look busy. I won't keep you. I should probably get a shower."

The sooner he got upstairs, the sooner he got out from under her gaze. Maybe that was part of the reason he had decided to do classes online. At a real school, every teacher would look at him the way that Annie was looking at him now. Being the new kid was enough of a pain in the ass without being the new kid with the missing dad.

Without another word, Billy hurried past his cousin, heading straight for the stairs.


"What would I do without you, Sivana Thaddeus Sivana?" Mordecai gave Thaddeus a shaky smile before pulling the cup of coffee he was holding up to his lips.

Thaddeus didn't want to know the answer to that question.

When they'd gotten back to their dorm, Thaddeus had helped Mordecai upstairs and into bed. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before. No doubt he'd now have to wash both them and his bedding now. His hair was sticking up in gravity defying directions.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've got the worst headache and I'm tired, but I think I'll live."

Tired? He'd slept almost twelve hours!

The curtains were pulled tightly shut and the boom box was turned off. Thaddeus had spent most of the morning in bed reading, only standing when he heard Mordecai begin to fumble around in bed.

"I would hope so." Thaddeus took a sip of his own coffee.

He was halfway finished with his cup when Mordecai spoke again.

"So how'd the movie end?"

Thaddeus blinked. "You don't remember?"

He rubbed his forehead. "The last thing I remember is you leaving to get more popcorn."

Thaddeus bit his lip. He pointed to Mordecai's wrinkled shirt, which was stained green and brown. "Do you remember how that happened?"

Mordecai gave a quick, soft laugh. "Do I want to know?"

Thaddeus took in a long breath before releasing it. Then, he filled him in.

"Shit!" Mordecai said.

"We'll clean it up!" Thaddeus had pulled himself out of stickier situations before. "What your dad doesn't know won't hurt him."

He looked Thaddeus directly in the eyes, his gaze unwavering. "My dad's dead."


In the end, all it took was manpower and a lot of baking soda.

"What if the smell doesn't go away?" Mordecai asked.

"We won't know until it dries," Thaddeus responded.

To think, just two days ago he never would have imagined spending his Sunday morning like this.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like an idiot." Mordecai ran a hand through his hair. Reaching down, he picked up the box of baking soda and roll of paper towels. "Guess we better get these back to Tyrone."

They left the car's windows cracked.

"I really owe you, don't I?"

Thaddeus didn't respond. The last day and a half was already losing its edge, taking on an almost dreamlike quality. These sort of things happened, he knew, but always to other people - not someone like him.

"Let's just say one day I'll need a favor from you that you can't refuse."

Mordecai grinned. "Deal!"

"Do I even want to know what happened?" Tyrone asked when they knocked on his door.

Thaddeus looked to Mordecai, who was red faced.

"Uh, do you need to know?"

"Let me put it this way: You try anything in here," he said, gesturing around the hallway, "then it becomes my business."

Mordecai nodded.

"Just be safe and be smart," Tyrone continued. "Okay?"

"Thanks."

When they got back to their dorm room, Mordecai collapsed in his desk chair, his shoulders slumped.

"I don't think you're in trouble." Thaddeus gave him a weak smile. "That hangover had to be punishment enough."

"It was my dad's car." He put his face in his hands. "Dad loved that car. He owned it for almost my entire life."

Thaddeus' tongue was dry and heavy in his mouth.

"He never let us eat in it. That was why I got so... You know. And if you had even the slightest urge to piss, then he'd drag you straight to the nearest gas station." He laughed. "I swear, sometimes I thought he saw that thing as another kid." He pulled open a desk drawer - the same one, Thaddeus noted, that he had seen him open that morning after the tape broke. He pulled something out, cradling it close.

Thaddeus sank further into his own desk chair. Right then, there were a million different ideas running through his head. He could leave. He was an un-rightful voyeur into an intimate moment. Or he could try and offer some sort of comfort - a pat on the back or one of those hushed murmurings and pained promises given at funerals.

Mordecai turned, crossing the few feet that separated their desks. He held out a framed photo.

"This," he said, pushing it into Thaddeus' hands, "was Earl Mordecai Liebowitz the First."

The photo was faded, its edges torn. A man looking to be in his mid-forties sat in a white metal garden chair. He had a bushy, caterpillar-shaped mustache and thick glasses. His thinning hair was the same color as Mordecai's. Despite the fine-pressed brown suit he was wearing, he was sitting casually, his shoulders relaxed and grinning face pointed directly at the camera.

"Mom wanted to get rid of his car. After he died, she donated just about everything he ever owned, even stuff he gave her. Every time she looked at it, she got hysterical." He sighed. "I was only able to convince her to keep the car because I told her she wouldn't have to buy me one when I turned sixteen. You wouldn't believe what it looked like after four years sitting in the back of the garage!"

Thaddeus stood, handing the photo back.

"My mom still won't ever let us bring him up. It almost feels like she wants us all to forget about him." Mordecai put the picture away.

"I'm sorry. That must be difficult." As soon as the words left his mouth, Thaddeus considered punching himself. A mass-produced Hallmark card would have sounded more sincere.

"I..." He sniffled, rubbing his shirt sleeve against his right eye. "I don't know why I told you all this. I've never done this before."

"I won't be telling anyone."

"Thanks. You're a great guy, Sivana Thaddeus Sivana. I'm glad I know you."


The only reason that Freddy still attended Fawcett Central was because he hadn't done anything to land himself in juvie yet. That was not for a lack of trying, but forging hall passes wasn't exactly a federal offense. Not that he'd needed one today. Ms. Henley had given him a real one without question. All he'd had to do was widen his eyes and clutch the side of his hips.

He had seriously considered actually going to the nurse's office before making his detour. Ms. Layton's office was covered in cat posters. Thanks to a small portable CD player she kept on the side of her desk, there was always soft jazz playing in the background. The cots in the back room were soft, even if the disposable blankets the nurse provided were a bit scratchy. Truth be told, a nap didn't sound too bad just then. He certainly would be fighting to stay awake if he had bothered to stay in English class.

The problem was, Ms. Layton would ask questions. She had this uncanny habit of being able to tell bullshit from horse shit - and everything in between. So while he'd get a juice box and pack of cheese crackers for his troubles, he'd probably be sent back to class in less than five minutes.

Thanks to budget cuts, the school library was only open three days a week. Had it not been a Thursday then perhaps Freddy could have spent his afternoon perched in an overstuffed beanbag chair while he leafed through comics.

It wasn't as if he could have just wandered the halls. With nowhere else to go, he'd made a beeline for the west wing boy's bathroom.

Freddy didn't know how long he'd spent with his chin against his knees. His butt had gone numb from sitting pressed against the plastic toilet lid. Badly drawn dicks and misspelled curses decorated the stall walls and door.

Guys had come in and out at random. He'd sat perfectly still, barely even allowing himself to breathe, as he listened to the clink of the urinals. More than a few dudes left without washing their hands.

When digging his nails into his legs lost its luster, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Other than a few new emails, he had no new notifications. Freddy scrolled through his inbox without really reading anything.

Batmanatee: Are you online?

Over five minutes passed without a response. Freddy spent that time scrolling through his social media feed, giving half-hearted likes even as the pictures, videos, and text all started blurring together.

Batmanatee: Billy?

Another two minutes flew by without so much as a notification that his message had been read. Grunting, he stuck his phone back in his pocket.

Freddy picked his backpack up from the floor and slipped it on over his shoulders. If it was like his crutches, then there was no telling if it would actually travel with him or not. All he could do was cross his fingers and think happy thoughts.

The smell reached his nose even before Freddy opened his eyes. The cave was musty, the stale and stuffy air so thick that it was almost solid. Somewhere out in the distance - Freddy couldn't be sure exactly how far - came the sound of lapping water. Dust motes floated lazily past.

It took him a few moments for his eyes to get adjusted to the dim light. Ahead of him stood the raised stone dais and its seven thrones that he remembered all too well. Thick shadows clung to the marble chairs, making them seem all the emptier. It seemed as if the whole place had been meticulously carved only to be promptly abandoned. Though he'd been there before, a part of him still felt as if he was looking at the cave with fresh eyes.

He hadn't meant to look to the statues, though his eyes fell on them all the same. Not even the Addams family would have wanted such grotesque decorations in their living room.

Freddy stepped forward.

The strange globe surrounding the demon ball thing glowed purple. Through its cracks, Freddy could see the glowing grey orb. It was bigger than he remembered it, certainly much too large to fit into his eye socket.

Freddy shivered. Out of all the wild stuff that had happened to him and that he'd seen lately, that was still one of the hardest things for him to grasp.

He looked back over the statues one last time. Even locked in stone, part of him expected the sins to suddenly burst forward with their claws raised and mouths agape.

Freddy turned. He pushed one of his backpack straps back up his shoulder.

You know, he thought, this place would look a lot better if there was some extra light.


"Billy!" Aunt Addy called. "Would you lock the door for me? I'm gonna go ahead and get the car started."

"No problem!" Billy called up the stairs. Twisting on his heel, he hurried back to his room, scooping up his keys from his desk.

He took the stairs two at a time. The only light that greeted him when he reached the first floor was the moonlight streaming in through the sliding glass patio doors. There was just enough for him to catch his reflection in a hall mirror. Billy paused, straightening his shirt collar and pushing a few stray locks of hair away from his forehead. He was wearing a crimson polo and black chinos. His aunt had promised that the meal would be strictly business casual, but with his luck he'd still manage to show up under dressed. Not that it really mattered. Even if he had something better to change into, time was already against him.

Billy gave himself one last glance before hurrying down the hall towards the front door.

The sudden rush of light came just as his fingers slipped around the doorknob. He stiffened, his hand momentarily frozen on the cold metal.

"Happy birthday!"

Billy turned, a lump hardening in his throat.

Freddy was standing only a few feet from him, a red party hat sitting lopsided on the left side of his head, his hand held cupped over the nearest light switch. He shot Billy a wide grin. Annie stood behind the kitchen table, which was covered in an array of neatly wrapped boxes and brightly colored gift bags. She was wearing the same hat as Freddy. A row of brightly colored balloons hovered above her head, batting lazily against each other. The largest one was made of a shiny foil and shaped like a cupcake.

"Happy fifteenth!" she called.

"Congrats on being born," Freddy added. "You feel old yet?"

The door handle began to shake. Looking back, Billy found himself standing face to face with his aunt, who was wearing nothing more than baggy grey sweatpants and an Atlanta Dreams hoodie. In her hands was a plastic container bearing a large vanilla sheet cake dotted with rainbow colored sprinkles and the words "Happy birthday!" written in cursive with red and blue frosting.

"Well," she said, giving him a quick smile, "are you just going to stand there?"

"What about your dinner?" Billy cried. Considering how dry his mouth was and how slick his palms were, his voice came out surprisingly strong and clear. He stepped back, giving her enough room to pull the door shut while she held the cake against her chest with one hand, before readjusting her hold on the container and heading to the kitchen.

"Oh, that," she said. Once she'd placed the cake down on the counter, she looked back to Billy and shot him a wink. "I hope you don't mind, but I had to reschedule it. We had far more important plans tonight."

Billy looked between the three and the rows of presents and balloons. He hadn't eaten anything beyond half a bowl of Crunch-O's that morning. Right then, he had the strangest sensation of both a total emptiness in his chest and a desire to run to the sink and release everything inside of him.

This wasn't supposed to happen!

For the past few weeks, time had lost its meaning. Billy had woken up more times than he could count over the last month completely unsure of whether it was night or day, let alone whether it was Wednesday or Sunday. If not for the automated emails he'd woken up to earlier - coupons that he was never going to get around to using - then the day would have passed him by. Once he'd seen the messages, he'd been struck by a churning stomach and pounding head.

For once, he'd had a reason to stay awake during his classes. With a straight back and unwavering gaze, he'd watched his teachers go through their lessons. At any moment, he expected them to turn to the camera and mention the day. Teachers had an uncanny knack for knowing that sort of thing. Yet if they were aware of it, they never brought it to light.

When classes had ended, he'd let out a long sigh. The day was largely done, his evening plans already arranged. As the hours had passed, the tightness constricting the space beneath his skin had begun to loosen. Birthdays were fun; who didn't love presents? Maybe in another 365 days he'd actually feel like celebrating it.

"I got a text from the pizza guy," Aunt Addy said, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. "He won't be here for another fifteen minutes."

Freddy flashed Billy a quick, cheeky grin. "Hey, Ms. Thomas," Freddy said, looking back to her, "since the pizza won't be here for a while, why don't we try some of the cake? I'm hungry!"

She pursed her lips. "I don't think you'll keel over."

Freddy pouted. "I haven't eaten since lunch." He stepped forward, jabbing Billy with the side of his elbow. "C'mon, back me up here. She can't say no to you today."

Billy pulled away from him, his eyes darting to the ground. All he really wanted to say was for everyone to leave him alone. Right then, he couldn't think of anything he wanted less than a party.

"Billy, are you okay?" Annie asked. She stepped forward, a stack of party hats clutched in a fist held at her side.

"Yeah," he said, raising his head to meet her gaze. "I'm fine. Just a little..."

"Surprised?" She chuckled. She pulled a hat from her stack and held it out to him, then gave another to her mom.

"How'd you know it was my birthday?" Maybe he'd accidentally said something. He wouldn't put that past himself. Most of the last few weeks were settling into a rushed blur in his memories. Billy was remembering less and less what he'd seen, heard, and done, though the feelings he'd had - those days spent barely able to get out of bed and those nights where he felt like the most powerful man on earth - remained. By the end of the month, would he have anything concrete to link this night to, or would it be another jumble of emotions that he'd have to push back to keep himself calm?

Aunt Addy adjusted her hat. "You wouldn't believe the things you learn when filling out legal paperwork."

Freddy shrugged. "I've had your birthday marked in my phone's calendar for a while."

"This was his idea," Annie said, pointing a violet fingernail at Freddy. "So don't you go blaming me for this!"

"Hey, you didn't say no when I asked you for help!"

She smirked. "How else was I supposed to get free cake?"

Billy put on his hat, fighting to keep his fingers from shaking. He'd said he was fine, hadn't he? Why not try to prove himself right? As long as he played along, nobody would ask him too many questions.

"I," he said, trying to ignore the feeling of six eyes burning through his skull, "I'd be down for some cake."

"I suppose a small piece wouldn't hurt." Aunt Addy grabbed some paper plates and carefully set down three very thin, small pieces onto each of their centers. She handed the first to Billy.

Sitting down at the table, Billy took a moment to look it over. The frosting was smooth as fresh snow. It was a yellow cake, the insides bright. Before he could lose his nerve, Billy stuck a small forkful into his mouth.

His throat constricted. The sugary taste was overpowering. Though the cake was soft and the icing melted on his tongue, he had to take a long sip of water to force the bite down.

"What do you think?" Freddy asked. He'd had to move some presents across the table so that he'd have somewhere to place his plate down. He'd managed to eat half his slice in one bite.

"It's good," he said, moving some crumbs back and forth along his plate with his fork.

It wasn't a lie. Any other time and he'd already have cleaned off his plate so that he could try and get another slice.

Though he couldn't say it aloud, Billy thought it seemed wrong to celebrate after everything that had happened. He wasn't sure how exactly to word that - no doubt if he said something, it would only breed more pesky questions. But he knew what he felt.

Not that he could say anything. Freddy was sick of him moping around. Annie would hover over him. And as nice as his aunt was, she was still too much of a stranger for him to even think of talking to her. All that considered, they were the only people he could even bring this sort of thing up to. No one else would understand.

The first birthday he'd spent with his dad had been a school day. Billy had woken up early to the smell of pancakes and a knock on his door. When he'd opened it, his dad had scooped him up into a hug. Billy had returned it, squeezing him with all the strength he had.

It was funny. For all the time he'd spent wishing and hoping to see his mom, his dad had always been there for him. And, unlike the woman he'd spent countless nights lying awake over, his dad had been real. Warm, strong, and there.

That trip to Philadelphia had been a belated gift. The only thing, he'd promised his father over and over again, that he truly wanted. As much as he tried not to think back to it, Billy couldn't push the thought away. Was it really any worse than what was playing out in front of his eyes right now?

He'd barely been able to look at his dad after they'd gone. His dad had been right - his social workers and past foster siblings too, even if they hadn't been there to rub salt in the wound. His mom had never cared about or looked for him. Billy had been a delusional kid too stupid - or too obstinate if he was being generous to himself - to see otherwise. All that time he'd spent chasing after his mother had also meant running from someone who actually wanted him.

Someone who wasn't there any longer. Someone who wouldn't come back, no matter how many candles he blew out.

Billy finished off the last of his cake with a strength he didn't know he possessed. When the pizza came, he swallowed it down without tasting it. Watching the others talk, it felt a bit as if Billy were watching a television show of someone else's life.

Once the pizza was done, he didn't eat any extra cake.

"Any idea what's inside?" Annie asked, shaking a box.

"I don't think he has X-ray vision." Freddy replied. He reached across the table and grabbed a shimmering blue bag overflowing with tissue paper.

"What should I open first?"

"This!" Annie yelled.

"Mine!" Freddy's voice almost drowned out his cousin's.

If he didn't open something soon, he feared the two might burst.

Billy looked between the two. It was only then that he realized that he'd never actually had a surprise party before. His dad had always been a planner about these sort of things. Weeks beforehand, he'd have the whole date mapped out.

Placing his hands in his lap and squeezing them together as tightly as he could, Billy slapped on a smile.

It didn't matter what he found inside. What his friends really wanted was for him to be happy. And not the visiting-Disney-World or even the found-twenty-bucks-on-the-ground kind of happy. The kind of happy that once come so easily to him, the sort of happiness that had him wake up with a smile on his face and a skip in his step. That kind of happy, he knew, was much the opposite of what he'd been feeling these last few weeks.

He couldn't blame them. That sort of happiness was tantalizing. It would give his world some color, his actions some purpose. Yet it seemed impossibly foreign and, much like the party, wrong. How could he be happy after what happened to his dad? Unlike himself, his father would never again get to open a present or eat cake. There would be no more radio sing alongs in the car or late night ice cream trips together. Forget frog hunting in local state parks or eating at whatever odd little hole in the wall they found while on vacation. All that was done now. Even if Billy were to try to do them by himself, it just wouldn't be the same.

"Calm down, everyone." Aunt Addy said. "It's his choice."

"But mine's the best!" Freddy said. He scrunched his face. "Trust me, Billy, Annie already told me what she's giving you."

"Thanks a lot!" She stuck out her tongue.

"Calm down." Aunt Addy repeated. She didn't need to raise her voice to get everyone to go quiet. She looked back to Billy. "Go ahead and grab whatever you'd like." She cocked her thumb towards a rather large box near the edge of the table. "Though if I am to make my own suggestion..."

In the end, his aunt had loaned him a quarter. When it came up tails, he'd taken the bag from Freddy and ripped away the tissue paper with a bit more force than was necessary.

"Is that supposed to be me?" Billy asked, pointing to a red blob.

"I think so," Freddy replied. "See those two lines coming out of the other guy's arms? That's definitely me."

Three figures stood against a white void, their stick-like arms held high. Billy stood at the center, with Freddy to his left and a purple blob that he could only presume was Darla on his right. Everyone was smiling, though the dots representing their eyes were so large that they were smushed together at the edges. Written across the top in messy, glittery print was "Happy birthday, Billy!" Though the letters were a bit crooked and unevenly spaced, nothing was misspelled. Drawn to the sides of the paper were fat balloons, hearts, and even more sideways smiley faces.

"Darla was so excited when she heard it was your birthday."

"You think?" Billy asked.

That wasn't all she'd made for him. In addition, she'd crafted a pencil holder for him out of clay and painted the outside red and orange. The paint was thicker on some parts than other, making it darker in certain areas. He could see her fingerprints embedded into the clay.

"There's nothing else in the world like that." Freddy said.

"So I can't break it?"

"Don't even think about it!"

Freddy himself had gotten Billy a new set of headphones.

"At least I know you'll use these."

Annie had knitted him an orange and black striped scarf. The wool was soft to the touch but thick. It was almost fifteen inches long and tasseled at the ends.

"Hopefully you won't need to use it for much longer," she said.

"Did anyone pay attention to the groundhog yesterday?" Freddy asked.

As large as the box that Aunt Addy had pointed to was, it was rather light. Billy shook it, but couldn't place anything to the hollow thunk that echoed back in his ears. He looked to Annie, who just shrugged.

It was like a Russian nesting doll. Once he opened one box, he was met with another. Often, he pulled away so much wrapping paper that when he tore off some from both the top and bottom box. Five boxes later and he felt like he'd spent hours digging for water. Only then did his shovel find a stream.

"Thanks?" Billy held the gift card up, looking it over. He could barely stand wrapping one gift. What had possessed her to wrap five boxes for this?

She laughed. "Oh, don't give me that face. I made this fun for you, didn't I?"

Annie grinned. "You don't know how many times she's done that to me."

The colorful, fancy wrapping paper decorating the next few boxes he opened were much more exciting than the contents of what he found inside. Plain white socks, a coffee mug decorated with a large "B", and a leather bound journal just weren't the sort of things worth making a fuss over.

Fifteen was a strange age. He wasn't a little kid any longer. Yet he wasn't even old enough to go on a field trip without his dad signing a permission slip for him.

Or rather, he supposed, his aunt.

Once the wrapping paper had been cleared away and his gifts tucked into a corner of the table, Billy sat forward in his chair. As far as he could tell, there was nothing to doirafter this. Saying he had homework would make everyone laugh at him. Would anyone believe him if he said he was tired?

"Billy," Annie said.

"Yeah?" He squirmed in his seat.

"We actually forgot a box."

"Lucky me." Right then, he missed his bed. His eyes really were heavy.

No one said anything after Annie stood and left. She couldn't have been gone long - he could hear her pacing around the living room - but every passing second seemed to move slower than the last. When she finally returned, she was holding an unwrapped box.

It was easily a good few pounds in weight. He held the box next to his ear and shook it. There was a flap-like noise that made him think of paper.

"A book?" he asked.

"Open it," was her only response.

Freddy's eyes were locked on him, but he looked away when Billy met his gaze.

The book was made of a wine red fabric and tightly bound. Written on the cover, in a small paper square, was "For Billy".

He opened it to a random page. When he saw its contents, a part of him wanted to slam it shut. Instead, he flipped forward.

The pictures passed him by so quickly that they merged together in his line of vision. There was Billy and his dad smiling on the Ferris wheel. A beaming Annie, still holding that metal carnival gun, gazed back at him. Then there was a selfie that he and Freddy had taken together when they'd first met in person. Some of the pictures were stuff he'd shown Freddy. There was something about actually being able to touch them, a feeling that an image on his computer could never replicate. His hand fingers carefully hovered over them, tracing their plastic-coated edges. The further he went along, the more he saw. Near the end, there were drawings made by both Freddy and Darla.

"Annie?" Billy asked.

"It's from both of us," she said, gesturing to Freddy.

"Thanks." His voice croaked when he spoke, as if he had a cold. "I love it. I just... Need to be alone. Okay?"

No one objected. Grabbing up his stuff, Billy gave them one last glance before hurrying back downstairs.


Midnight was as good of a time as any to eat cake. Billy had spent the last few hours passing his attention from between his phone and scrapbook, though most had been focused on the latter. No matter how many times he flipped through it, Billy always found something new while scouring its pages.

He'd been so caught up in looking over that picture Annie had taken of him and his dad on the Ferris wheel that at first he hadn't noticed the pang in his stomach. He could have stared at the brown bandage taped over his dad's eye forever. If not for the sharp spike of pain in his chest - he imagined he'd feel something quite similar if he were ever knifed from behind - then he very might well have. His the earlier pain had been tight, pulling his body into itself. Now, he felt like a turkey that had been ripped open, its stuffing pulled out before it was hastily stitched back together. For a few minutes, all he could do was lay back and stare at the ceiling. The ache didn't pass.

Billy moved mechanically. It seemed as if one moment he was in his bedroom and the next at the front of the kitchen. Maybe he was.

The smell hit him before his eyes registered the lumpy shape sitting in the room's far back corner.

"Billy?"

He tensed. Without blankets holding him down, he seemed so light that the slightest breeze might knock him to the floor.

His eyes further adjusted to the darkness. Annie was still largely a blob of shadows, but he could better make out her edges. Though he'd never been fond of tea, its spicy scent tickled his nose, calling him further into the kitchen.

"Hey," he said. Raising his hand, he gave a half-hearted wave. "You mind if I sit down with you?"

"Of course." She pulled a chair out. Its sharp creak was like a gunshot suddenly going off.

Billy only sat down once he'd grabbed a slice of cake. His cutting skills weren't anywhere near his aunt's. His was uneven, the edges crumbled.

Before he took his seat, his eyes passed over the oven clock.

12:09

His birthday was officially over.

No one had moved the balloons. They had mixed together into one dark mass along the ceiling. Billy watched them as he ate.

"Breakfast of champions, huh?" Annie asked. She stood and got her own plate.

His mouth full, Billy could only give her a mumbled "Mmph."

He licked the frosting from his fork. Now that the taste wasn't so suffocating, he actually felt like eating. When there was nothing left but scattered crumbs, he got another slice.

"Were you having trouble sleeping too?" Annie asked.

He nodded, not looking up from the slice he was cutting. The truth was, he wasn't the least bit tired any longer.

"Do you miss your dad?"

It took a moment for Billy's mind to register that the person who had just spoken was himself.

Annie hunched down in her seat, her shoulders slumping. She grabbed her mug but didn't bring it to her lips.

"I-" he finally said. Saying sorry didn't seem right, though it was appropriate. The problem was, it would have been instinctive, the same sort of thing he might have said if he had bumped into her. Before he could say anything else stupid, he stuffed a forkful of cake into his mouth. Crumbs spilled onto his chin and lap.

He didn't know how much time passed until she finally answered him.

"I don't know." She placed her fork down. "After what happened..."

"I shouldn't have asked."

She'd told him once that she knew what he was going through. At the time, he'd taken it in one ear and out the other, the same way he did the clumsy reassurances and near endless apologies she'd offered. Right then, a spark of hope ran through him. Or, more likely, a twisted parody of one. Maybe he couldn't be happy, but at least he could know that someone else had that same rapidly expanding hole growing inside of them, that hollow ache that squeezed his heart.

"No, it's... I get why you'd ask." Reaching across the table, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He pressed back against hers, trying to mirror that same force. "You really miss yours."

It wasn't a question.


Freddy spent the weekend digging through the attic and storage closet. Most everything he took was at least a decade old. He didn't even think that most of it actually belonged to Victor and Rosa. When they'd bought the house, they'd gotten the former owner's old junk at no extra cost. Rosa had always insisted that eventually they were all going to spend a day sorting through everything together. Should that day ever actually arrive, Freddy doubted that she'd notice that anything he took was missing.

He'd set up battery powered lamps around the floor. They made the long, stony hall shine with yellow light. Plush cushions and old blankets decorated the thrones. Though he was still a bit small in them, Freddy could at least sit in one now without his butt getting cold.

The extra light had revealed the presence of stone shelves carved into the walls. Freddy was slowly filling them with assorted tchotchkes - old action figures, assorted arts and crafts projects that Darla had made for him, and the wilting succulents that Mary had never quite learned how to care for. Set to one side was an old dresser with faded paint. A neighbor had left it out on their front sidewalk on Friday afternoon. While it clashed with the overall aesthetic, free was free.

Not that there was a theme. Freddy couldn't decide if the hodgepodge accessories were inspired or too garish to even be called camp. Having taken whatever wasn't so worn that it needed to be thrown out, everything was an array of colors and styles and patterns. For all that he'd added, the additional items only seemed to make the remaining empty space more noticeable.

He could add more stuff. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do that afternoon. But he couldn't just hog the space either. Billy and Annie might want to add some things.

Billy was probably going to think that he was crazy. As far as Freddy knew, he hadn't come back since he'd returned the demon ball. Considering how edgy he was lately, there was no telling what might happen when he returned. To Freddy, the statues and glowing grey orb were trophies. To Billy? It was anyone's guess.

He'd show Annie first, then. Her mom would be glad to have them meeting up someplace that wasn't her house. Maybe Annie knew a thing or two about interior design and could make the place look a bit more spiffy. If not, she'd probably have some cool knickknacks to add.

He walked around, taking in the area at different angles. While it wasn't anywhere close to what he'd call cozy, it didn't look like a haunted house any longer.

The chilly air passed easily through his jacket. He shivered, rubbing at the sides of his arms. Maybe they could get some kind of space heater. There had to be ones that didn't need to be plugged in.

It was only when he came up behind the center throne that he noticed the hallway. He blinked a few times. It was dark enough that it almost blended in with the charcoal colored walls. The narrow opening couldn't have been more than six feet tall.

There was still so much of the cave that Freddy hadn't seen. Had he and Billy spent more time exploring and less time punching each other then Freddy might have had a better idea of everything around him.

He stepped forward. The hallway was so thin that two people couldn't walk side by side through it. It was long, with a narrow light twinkling at its very end. It glowed a bluish-white. The further Freddy walked, the larger it grew.

When he came to its end, Freddy found himself in a large corridor. Though it was almost as dark and cold as the throne room, the space was far larger. Freddy stepped forward. As he walked, pebbles crunched beneath his feet.

The space was largely empty. Forget decorating the throne room! There was enough space here for a ping pong table, couches, and some arcade cabinets (there had to be a way to get electricity here somehow), with plenty of room to spare.

He only saw the bars when he walked further. They were set into the walls like prison cells in an old Western movie. They glowed a light grey color. The metal felt cold as an icicle against his skin. Some that he passed were partially opened, an open space carved between the bars, though most were not. As far as he could tell, all of them were empty.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he turned a corner. His heart pounded against the side of his throat. Though he blinked and blinked, the pale shape did not recede into the shadows.

Freddy would have made a terrible ninja. It was almost impossible to be quiet on crutches. Still, the figure didn't stir as he stepped forward.

He took in a deep breath. It took him a few moments to finally release it, as if someone might steal the very air from his lungs.

"Dr. Sivana?"


"Frederick?"

Thaddeus rubbed at his eye as he sat up. A dull ache in his lower back and shoulders told him that he wasn't asleep. The surrounding air was so cold that his teeth chattered.

Thaddeus wasn't sure how long the wizard had been keeping him prisoner. Whether it was only a few weeks or many moons, something told him that he wouldn't be happy with the answer. However long it was, he feared that his mind might have finally begun to crack.

Really, he would have expected a more fantastical mirage - perhaps some ghost from his past.

The boy standing before him, dressed in an oversized hoodie and faded jeans, looked downright boring. He was the sort of kid that Thaddeus could pass in the street and not give so much as a second glance.

Perhaps this was some sort of test from the wizard. Or, rather, a trick - another one of his sadistic little games.

"Is it really you?" he squeaked.

"I should be asking you that." Thaddeus responded.

Suppose this was the wizard's doing. Was there really any greater reason for him to do it than to watch Thaddeus squirm? Could there truly be any other purpose?

He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Straightening his shoulders, Thaddeus looked at the boy right in the eyes.

"Frederick," he repeated.

For a moment, all the boy could do was blink, his mouth hung open like a dead fish. "You actually pulled a Superman?"

Thaddeus opened his mouth but just as quickly closed it. On shaking legs, he stood and walked forward. When he reached the row of metal bars separating them, he squinted. Up close, he could see a brown stain on one of the boy's sleeves and wayward strands of hair near the back of his head that stuck out in gravity defying directions.

"I told Billy you might..." He bit his bottom lip. "But I never actually thought..." Pausing, his next few breaths came out fast and loud.

Thaddeus' stomach sank. There was still the probability that this was some mad game, another test of his character so that the wizard might watch him again fail to meet some unknown and completely impossible expectation, but with each passing moment it was getting more and more difficult to hold onto that shred of hope.

"I saw you... The sin..."

Thaddeus held his hand up, his palm extended outward. "Breathe," he said. "Right now all you need to do is breathe."

It was no surprise that the boy was struggling. The surrounding air was thick with dust and so cold that at times it felt solid. His vain attempts at sleep were often ended by a sudden coughing fit that left his lungs feeling as if they had been hogtied.

"But you-"

"Breathe," he repeated. "You can tell me everything later."

For once, Thaddeus took his own advice. He took in a long breath through his nose before releasing it from his mouth. It was accompanied by the sensation of his heart pattering against his chest. It wasn't loud or fast, moving almost lazily in its steady patter, but it was noticeable. For a moment, all Thaddeus could do was make sense of the other stimuli fighting for his attention. The chill at the tip of his toes, the itch on the side of his left shoulder, even the slight pressure near his lower jaw. For a moment, the rest of the world - if this place could even be called that - faded away. The boy existed. Thaddeus existed. And, for an amount of time that he had no idea how to measure, Thaddeus could just be.

When he finally spoke, Frederick's voice didn't shake. It was firm, even if his gaze still wavered. "I thought you were dead." He reached a hand towards the metal bars but quickly pulled it back as if he had been burnt. "Billy and I saw that sin grab you and..." He tilted his head, making a sound with his teeth and tongue. It was a mix of a click and a sharp snkt.

A wet trickle ran down his cheek as a knife like nail slipped between the soft flesh of his cheek. His breath caught in his throat. One scaly hand, its flesh icy, was around his neck. No doubt it could feel the frantic drumbeat of his heart through the thin skin of his throat. For a moment, a still image of the two boys was caught in his line of vision, before they blurred together with the ceiling in a rush of light and color.

"Yes," he said, if only because there was nothing else to say. "You did."

Life is strange, isn't it? He wanted to say. You're so desperate to make sense of it. But just when you think you have all the pieces in place, something rips them apart and you can't put them back together again.

Frederick held up a hand to his face. "Your eye," he said.

It took a moment for Thaddeus to reply. He kept expecting the boy to say something else. Nothing ever came. His last few words, it seemed, were a full statement.

He brought up a hand and covered part of his face. His skin met the cool surface of his glasses, turning the already dusty and oily lens even dimmer. "It's not there any longer, is it?"

The boy slowly shook his head.

Thaddeus gave a weak smile. Though he'd long suspected it, part of him had hoped that it was some mistake on his part. In a way, it was better to hear about it from the child than to see it with his own eyes. Something told him that the last thing he wanted right then was to look into a mirror.

Thaddeus turned his gaze downward. His coat was wrinkled and covered in dirt, the knees of his pants torn. His clothes hung a little looser on him than he last remembered. His eye couldn't be the only notable difference from the last time Frederick had seen him.

"What are you doing here?" Thaddeus asked. Not how - for though the question hung on his tongue, he already had its answer.

Frederick swallowed. His eyes were wide. Thaddeus could see his shadowy outline reflected in their pupils. "I'm, uh, skipping school right now." He gave a weak laugh.

So it was daytime. The news set a strange weight onto his shoulders. It was hard to imagine it as such, not with how thick the shadows around him were. Here, the sun was nothing but a memory. Rain and snow seemed just as foreign. Wherever Thaddeus truly was, his old world was distant, so far away that parts of it had already begun to seem dreamlike. Seeing Frederick again made those memories solid.

"You never did meet the wizard, did you?" The boy had said as much, but Thaddeus had never found reason to believe him.

"No."

What reason did the boy now have to lie to him?

"He's dead, right?"

Thaddeus had to use every ounce of his willpower to keep his face from shifting. "So the wizard never gave you your powers?"

"No," he spoke, his gaze firm now, "Billy did."

Thaddeus stiffened. He'd always hated that name. It was what she'd called him. For a while, after he'd first adopted William, he'd tried to get him to stop using it altogether. Yet whenever the boy had introduced himself to strangers - to neighbors and teachers and kids at his school - it had always slipped out. Thaddeus could have gotten stern about it. He almost had. But that would have caused a fight, which was the last thing William had needed in his already confusing new life. And really, why sow animosity over something so small as what the boy wanted to call himself?

All the same, Thaddeus felt himself tighten at the word. "How is William?"

Frederick didn't look much different than when Thaddeus had last seen him. There was an odd comfort to that fact. Had he aged even a year then there was no telling what all Thaddeus might have missed back at home. If his friend hadn't changed, then surely William also looked much the same.

His face flashed before Thaddeus' eyes. So many questions hung on his tongue. What had happened to him? Was he hurt? Where was he living?

Freddy took a step back, his jaw tightening. "He's..." He never finished. Any other time, Thaddeus might have laughed at his glare. It was set so earnestly across his small face that it seemed to be almost a cartoonish parody. But the tight vein sticking out of his neck was genuine. The sight of it always, Thaddeus had long since learned, spelled trouble.

Frederick wasn't just a boy. He was a headstrong teenager with ancient powers that he likely had yet to fully fathom. All it would take was one simple word and he could beat Thaddeus to a bloody pulp. He certainly had good reason to. If given the option of facing the child's champion form or the sins, Thaddeus feared the latter might actually go softer on him.

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

A few moments, likely much less time than it actually felt like, passed before Thaddeus answered. "The wizard brought me here." He gestured around his cell. "I've been here ever since that night."

"This is a prison."

Thaddeus had to force back a laugh. Forget his cell - the Rock of Eternity itself was a giant cage.

"Do you know what kind of people go to prison?" He pointed a finger straight at Thaddeus' face. "I knew you were evil."

Thaddeus opened his mouth and only got dust on his tongue for the effort.

"You stole the sins!" He stepped forward. His knuckles were white from clutching the handles of his crutches so hard. "You almost killed me!" His whole body was shaking. "I don't care what you said about me being a kid. When we were fighting, I really thought you were going to..."

He was probably going to say the word. Once he did, all the metal bars in the world wouldn't be enough to save Thaddeus. That hammering in his chest and the cold sweat dripping down his neck - no doubt Thaddeus had given the boy the same sensation.

There had to be something to say to calm him down, to at least give him a moment to step back and think. Something to stop the rage eating at him. The problem was, Thaddeus couldn't think of the words. His mind was completely blank now. All he felt was the pounding in his chest and the quivering of his legs.

Hadn't the wizard said he couldn't die? Thaddeus could only hope that for once the prig had spoken the truth.

It happened so fast and Thaddeus was already so tense that he didn't even think to defend himself. He had to half wonder if the reason the kid kept aiming for this spot was because he was so short. He stiffened, waiting for a jolting pain that never came. The plastic tip of one of the boy's crutches passed right through his groin. There wasn't any sensation at all. Thaddeus could only look wide-eyed at what his nerves did not register.

"What?" Thaddeus barely spoke above a whisper.

Frederick pulled his crutch back. His mouth was open, his gaze quivering. He looked ready to say something but then quickly shut his mouth. Stepping forward, he slipped his hand through the bars and reached for Thaddeus' arms. His fingers passed through Thaddeus' jacket. Again, there wasn't even the hint of a feeling - any feeling. Not pain or warmth or discomfort. If Thaddeus' eyes had been closed then he probably wouldn't even have known what was happening.

"Holy fuck!" Frederick pulled his hand away and stepped back, moving so quickly that Thaddeus was surprised he didn't trip over his own two feet.

Thaddeus took in a breath but didn't release it. Everything felt so tight, like he was a broken windup toy that could no longer move.

Frederick pointed at him, but this time his hand shook. "You said you weren't dead!"

"I'm not!" There was a bit too much force behind his voice. He hadn't even meant to yell.

He couldn't be. His heart still beat and breath still swam through his throat. The wizard brought him food - substandard schlock, but food nonetheless.

"Ghost! Ghost!" His words echoed along the walls.

"No!" Thaddeus brought his hands to his chest. Despite the cold air, his skin felt warm to the touch. Warm and so very much alive.

There had to be a rational explanation for this!

Frederick took a few steps forward and then another few back. This continued for a while until he was finally back at the spot where he'd previously been standing.

"Touch my arm."

"What?"

"Touch my arm!" He held it up. "Maybe if we do it the other way then it'll work."

Thaddeus felt bile rise in his throat. "You can't be serious!"

"Just do it!"

Thaddeus reached out before the words had fully left Frederick's mouth.

"No way," Frederick said.

Thaddeus' hand simply seemed to disappear into the boy's skin. To an outside viewer they must have looked like deformed statues melting into one another.

No one said anything.

Frederick pulled his hand away and turned around, walking a few feet before sitting on the ground cross-legged. Pulling off his crutches, he let them fall to the dirt with a light thud. He put his head in his hands.

Thaddeus didn't think that he was going to change now. What use was there in attacking an enemy he couldn't touch? The problem was, besides that, Thaddeus didn't have the slightest idea what the boy would do.

The silence soon settled over them like a blanket. Thaddeus couldn't help but notice that Frederick's shoulders were shaking.

"Breathe," Thaddeus said. "You really need to breathe."

No, it wouldn't solve any of their problems, nor would it tell them just what the hell was going on. But while Thaddeus was currently ignorant - his mind shrieking out questions that he couldn't even begin to answer - he knew that an explanation would likely soon arrive.

There absolutely had to be, he reminded himself, a rational reason for why this was happening. Never mind his distorted definition of rational. Things only made logical sense in Wonderland when one forgot the rules of the world above the rabbit hole.

Frederick followed his suggestion. Once he'd stopped shaking, he wrapped his arms around his chest and sniffled.

"Dr. Sivana?"

"Yes?"

"What if you really aren't evil?"

Just how was he supposed to reply to that?

"Say you're not lying and you only fought me because you didn't know I was... Well, me."

"I assure you that I have better things to do than fight teenagers."

He grimaced. "Yeah, but..." He shook his head, sending his floppy hair flying. "So you weren't, like, trying to take over the world?"

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because that's what evil guys do!"

"How many times do I have to tell you-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're not evil."

"And even if I was, I wouldn't do that." Thaddeus scoffed. "That sounds like too much of a headache."

"Then if you're not evil..." He tightened his grip on his chest. "Or at least you aren't anymore..."

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow.

"Look, you had the world's fastest redemption arc. I mean, you went from punching me to trying to buy everyone pizza in... What, two hours?"

If they had actually eaten, would the dinner be anywhere near as awkward as this conversation?

"Does that mean that you meant what you said about Billy's life being worth more than yours?"

"I promise you that I meant every word." He sat, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Were you boys hurt?"

Frederick shook his head. "We weren't injured or anything. At least not physically, anyway. Everything's weird right now, though."

"I would imagine." He cleared his throat. "How's William?"

"The weirdest." Frederick gave a weak laugh. "You're a big Ramones fan, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"He made me listen to like every song they ever made after you, uh, died or whatever. He also showed me a lot of pictures of you and told me all this stuff about you." He cocked his head to the side. "Was your punk band any good?"

Thaddeus had to swallow down a laugh. "Absolutely not!"

"Don't you have any recordings? Maybe you're just being too hard on yourself."

"We made a point of burning all our tapes."

"Oh come on!"

"I promise that you would be more than disappointed if you ever heard us."

The Mind States - now there was something he hadn't thought about in a while!

"He really took this hard, you know? Billy hasn't been himself after what happened." Frederick's frown deepened.

"I would think that was a natural reaction."

"Well, yeah, but it sucks. I wish he could be like he used to." Frederick's eyes widened. He grabbed his crutches and, after first falling back on his butt, pulled himself to his feet. "But he can be, can't he? He'll be so happy when he finds out you're back. Sure, you're... Whatever. But you're not really gone, are you?"

"Frederick, wait!" Thaddeus stood, holding a hand out from between the bars though he couldn't have touched the boy even if he weren't standing so far away.

Almost all of him wanted to tell Frederick to hurry up. All this time spent waiting and wondering and now he could finally see his son! Yet there was a little part of him, one that was growing larger with each passing second, that wanted to pull back. There was no telling what might happen when they reunited. What William might do.

What Thaddeus might do.

Frederick blinked. Thaddeus might have missed the motion if he hadn't done it so excessively.

He stopped, looking down. "I'm still here?" He blinked again.

Thaddeus spent so long looking at the kid - who, despite his best efforts, was suddenly confused as ever all over again - that he didn't notice the figure until he was behind the boy.

"Look out!"

Frederick swerved, holding one crutch out. His face was white as starched bed sheets.

"Freddy Freeman!" the wizard boomed. Blue sparks flew from his eyes and smoke poured in a thin line from his mouth when he spoke.

"Shazam!"

Thaddeus blinked. He looked between the quivering boy and the wizard. In doing so, Thaddeus caught his gaze.

"Get the hell away from him!" Thaddeus screamed.

His prattling about purity aside, Thaddeus knew all too well just what harm he could do to a child.


And thus begins Freddy and Thaddeus' epic frenemyship.

The reunion is coming! Despite how angsty these last few chapters have been, I am making a concerted effort to write some happier stuff. Not that there won't be more angst, but I want to balance it out. Billy's earned a little happiness.

Please let me know what you think.