Chapter ten's here! What a long run that was. *wipes brow* I have a crick in my neck, but it was worth it. ^_^ I hope you're all ready, cause this is definitely my best chapter. ^u^

Secrets come out and there's more to unravel. I hope you guys can wrap your heads around this like I could. Actually, I nearly lost my mind hurrying to finish this chapter.

More talk on the shelter, the beasts and Mansley are included in this chapter. Man, I'm so excited I can't wait to start on chapter eleven. *jumps up and down* XD

I would also like to thank V Elemecha V for the review. Thank you. It means a lot.

Okay, I've talked enough; let's get on with the story. :3

"So how was your Thanksgiving?," queried Hogarth to any one of his three friends.

"Hectic," said Michael. "Mom nearly lost her mind trying to get the food ready before my cousins came over."

"Gee," said Terrence.

The bus drove off as soon as its door closed. Hogarth peeked over at his backpack, remembering that the four stitchpunks were stowing away in it. It would've been convenient to leave them at home, but the twins loved listening in on the classes, that he didn't want to leave them behind.

"So how was yours?," Hogarth asked Terrence.

"Oh, well," said Terrence, shrugging, "Dad got drunk and passed out. So it was just Mom and me. We had a quiet dinner without Dad telling us how much he hates his job, the house, the food..." His face fell, his eyes giving off a sense of want. A want to be heard, to be consoled. Hogarth, remembering what the stitchpunks told him, reached out a hand and patted his shoulder.

"It's all right," he said, offering a gentle smile. Terrence glanced over his shoulder. He didn't know how to react, whether to frown or smile back. In the end, he felt himself forming a smile.

"How about you?" Duncan asked Hogarth.

"Oh," quipped Hogarth, "Dean's parents came over. Granny Thelma's a real conversation starter."

"Granny Thelma?," said Michael.

"That's what she told me to call her," replied Hogarth. "And Grandpa Malcolm's really cool."

"What's he like?," queried Terrence.

"He's like your typical grandfather," answered Hogarth. "He's full of stories to tell. Gave me a model plane the moment he arrived. It's a really cool one. Took it out for a test drive the next day."

"What about...?" Michael pointed glanced at Hogarth's backpack, referring to the stitchpunks.

"Oh, I took them out to test the plane, too," he responded. He laid eyes on Duncan. "And how was your Thanksgiving?"

Duncan looked both ways before answering.

"Uh," he muttered, "my aunt and uncle came. And the cousins came. I didn't think there'd be enough for everyone."

"Don't you mean for you?," quipped Terrence, winking. Michael and Hogarth chortled. Duncan's face fell.

The bus pulled in before the school. Two more buses had to let out the students before Hogarth's bus could dismembark them.

"Say, Hogarth," uttered Michael.

"Yeah?," said Hogarth.

"The day before Thanksgiving," he began, "who was that man you went to see?"

Hogarth's heart leaped, eyes wide. He'd almost forgotten about Elias.

"I'll tell you after school," retorted Hogarth, grabbing his backpack. He unzipped the front pocket. "Ya'll okay in there?"

"Yeah," answered 9.

"We're fine," said 5.

3 and 4 smiled and waved at Hogarth, and at Michael. Michael smiled and waved back. Hogarth closed the pocket.

"I can't wait for gym class," quoth Hogarth, glancing out the window.

"I get it," said Terrence, "need to stay in shape."

Hogarth shook his head. "No," he said, "I feel like I've gained ten pounds from all that food."

"Duncan here could sure use a few hundred laps around the track," quipped Michael.

"Hey!," shouted Duncan.

Terrence and Hogarth laughed while Michael grinned awkwardly, holding up his hands in a sign for peace.

Their bus pulled in and the driver opened the door. The front row disembarked, followed by the middle row until finally Hogarth and his friends hopped off the bus, dutifully following the rest toward the school entrance.

It was the one time Hogarth was grateful to be going to back to school.

"So he's an agent?," queried Michael curiously, thumping down the stairs.

"Yup," said Hogarth matter-of-factly.

Hogarth, along with Michael and Duncan made it outside. Terrence had basketball practice today, which meant they would be riding the bus home without him.

The three made it on to their bus and found their seats. The bus drove off as soon as everyone was present.

"What does he look like?," asked Michael.

All Hogarth could about was Elias' wolf-like stare.

"He's pale," said Hogarth, focusing on the man's other features, "like he's never been in the sun before."

"Terrence would say he's a vampire," commented Duncan.

"Yeah," chuckled Michael.

"Well, he's not," quipped Hogarth. "And he's also got black hair, gray eyes. Wears dark colors a lot."

"Does he know where the Giant is?," asked Michael.

"No," answered Hogarth. He unstrapped his backpack and put it on his lap. He unzipped it. "You guys saw him," he said to the four stitchpunks, "care to give some feedback?"

"He's scary," said 5 in a whisper, his expression reflecting his statement.

Michael raised a brow.

"Why do you think that?," queried Duncan, leaning over the seat in front of Hogarth.

"I didn't like the way he stared at us," explained 5.

"You mean at you?," retorted Michael, raising a brow. The one-eyed stitchpunk snapped his head at him with a wounded expression. Michael's eyes drifted from left to right, wishing he hadn't said anything.

Hogarth saw that the bus was pulling in to his and his friends' stop. He closed his backpack, strapped it back around himself, and got ready to stand up.

"Anyways," he said, "I'm hoping to see him again, ask him what he knows."

"You didn't see him at all all weekend?," inquired Duncan.

"The grandparents were here all weekend," replied Hogarth, staring him squarely in the eye, hoping he would sense the time. "They drove back to Rhode Island yesterday, and I was exhausted from hearing all their stories and playing football with Grandpa Malcolm."

"Sounds like you had a happy Thanksgiving," commented Michael.

"Yeah, but who am I to complain?"

Hogarth and his friends got off the bus.

"But," quoth Hogarth, "I'd really like to know more about Elias and his mission." He watched the bus drive off. "I don't even know where he lives."

"Maybe he wants to keep it secret," commented Michael.

"Yeah," shrugged Hogarth, "anyways. I'll see you guys later."

"See ya," said Michael.

"Bye," chirped Duncan.

Hogarth walked off, grabbing at his backpack straps. He gaped down at the ground, brow furrowed. He spent the entire holiday with his family while wishing to know more about Elias Wolfe. Where he lived, where he got his information. Actually, the first thing he thought of was the main thing he wanted to know. He wondered what the stitchpunks thought. He took off his backpack and strapped it around himself on the front. He zipped it opened, the four ragdolls gazing back at him.

"What do you think?," he asked. "Should I go looking for Elias?"

"If you think it's important," replied 9.

The twins flickered to him, lips unsmiling.

"Need translation?," offered 5.

"No," said Hogarth, "I think they're telling me I shouldn't go searching for trouble." Then at 3 and 4, he said, "But I'm not looking for trouble. I wanna know where the Giant is, and know where Mansley is, that wouldn't technically be 'looking for trouble,' right?"

4 frowned and shook her finger at him the same way Annie did when he was caught doing mischief. Hogarth blinked.

"Heh," said 5, raising his stitched brow. 3 covered his mouth and giggled.

Hogarth kicked an ancient acorn and kept traipsing the dusty trail home. A brisk wind blew in, bringing forth a rain of dried leaves. There weren't a lot of leaves in the trees left and soon it would begin to snow. He enjoyed every bit of it.

"What am I going to tell Mom?," he mused, looking up at the bare branches. "What am I going to tell Dean?" He shivered, fingers digging into his backpack.

"Well," said 9, "one thing I know is: never lie to someone who trusts you."

"I'm not going to lie to them," quipped Hogarth defensively.

"And don't think about lying to them," said 5. "Not even when you think it's okay."

"The point is," interjected 9, "lying is never all right."

Hogarth let out a sigh, seeing his own breath in the cold air. He looked up ahead and saw his house come into view. He closed his eyes resolvedly. The stitchpunks watched Hogarth worriedly. They wish they knew how to help him.

Traipsing inside, Hogarth called out for his mother.

"Mom?," he shouted.

"In here," replied Annie. It was coming from the kitchen. Hogarth walked over, stood under the doorframe and peeked inside. He saw her rummaging through the icebox. She pulled out a bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and plate of leftover half-eaten turkey in the other. "We got a lot of leftovers," she commented. "Why don't I whip up a nice tomato soup to go with all this?"

"Mmm, sounds great," said Hogarth.

The twins poked their heads out of the backpack, optics flickering curiously.

"How was school?," queried Annie, setting the food on the counter.

"Awesome, Mom," replied Hogarth. "I was actually excited to be going back to school."

"Really?" Annie raised a brow. "And I thought you'd be wishing Thanksgiving break would last longer."

"No way," retorted Hogarth. "Well, maybe a little, but I was glad to be going back. I actually had fun in gym class. Speaking of," he added, an idea forming, "I'm going to head outside for a bike ride. I'm so excited I need to be on the move."

"Be careful, dear," said Annie, pulling out a pot from the cabinet. She looked at her son one last time before he could leave. "And watch out for beasts."

"We will."

Hogarth sauntered up the stairs, dashed into his room and dumped his backpack on the floor. Grabbing his helmet, he held it out for the four to jump in, which they did in single file. Racing down the stairs, he went out the front door, and circled the house, where his bike was chained to the railings of the porch. Unchaining the bike, Hogarth had the stitchpunks hide in his pockets. Mounting his bike, he placed his helmet on his head and pedaled.

The wind blew at his face. It was almost as exciting as the time he went flying with the Giant. Which reminded him, if he ever encountered Elias again, he was going to ask him precisely that. It's been four days since he last saw the man, he's bound to know something new.

9 poked his head out from the coat pocket.

"So, where to?," he asked, glancing up at the boy.

"Anywhere," responded Hogarth, eyes locked on the road.

5 poked his head, craning his neck to see what might pass them. He leaned over 9's shoulder, absentmindedly placing a hand on his arm. Over on the left pocket, the twins, excited as always, watched in wonder. They were going to want to show as much as they can when they return home.

And that was another thing. Hogarth just remembered the fallout shelter. Mansely mentioned it once, but Hogarth at the time wasn't interested in seeking it out. He thought he'd be trespassing. Those four days that passed, he nearly forgot about the shelter. Between his family and the stitchpunks, Hogarth found himself divided between them all.

Should he seek out the location of the fallout shelter? Or should he head into town and look for Elias? The man might not be interested in talking to him. He said it himself; he wasn't thrilled about coming here. Hogarth wondered why. Maybe Elias liked the thrill of a good chase. There'd be plenty of time to do that. And what if Mansley showed himself? What if he got into it with Elias? This thought made Hogarth smirk. He could just see it now: Mansely and Elias at each other's throats.

"Hogarth?," asked 9.

"Yeah?," quipped Hogarth.

"What do you think about what Elias said?"

Hogarth raised a brow. He slowed his pedaling, but did not intend to stop.

"About," he said, "about what he said...the portal?"

9 nodded his head.

"I'm not sure," said Hogarth, eyes glancing at the passing pebbles. "It might be possible." He looked to the road. "I wish I knew where the shelter is, so that I could see it for myself."

"Do you think the portal will be down there?," queried 5.

"Where else would it be?" Hogarth said. "And if anything I'd like to see how this portal works."

"Are you sure that it's safe?," asked 9.

"How bad can it be?," pointed out Hogarth. "Besides, I'm not a little kid anymore. I grew four inches, and I can probably knock Mansley out with one punch."

9 smirked. "You sure think highly of yourself."

"Eh." Hogarth shrugged.

He continued pedaling, this time at a faster pace. His wheels crushed twigs and pinecones. Up in the trees, woodland animals heard Hogarth riding his bike through their forest. The ashy gray sky gave off an ominous prophecy. The air itself left its mark on Hogarth.

A twig snapped somewhere Hogarth could not place. He stopped pedaling his bike, turned around, eyebrow raised. The stitchpunks gawked at where Hogarth was looking. They, like the boy, were also curious about what made that sound.

Crack!

"Did you hear that?," said Hogarth.

"Yeah," quoth 9.

"What do you think that was?," asked 5, gripping the edge of the coat pocket.

"I don't know." Hogarth surveyed the forest. The trees stood tall, immense. Leaves in many colors littered the ground, like an organic carpet. Branches stuck out of the piles of leaves, their sharp points ready to cut through anything. He heard another sound, not the sound of a twig snapping, more like a nut shell being crushed underneath a door. He heard rustling in the trees, probably the squirrels or raccoons climbing their way up to the top.

A wind blew in. Hogarth grabbed at his coat collar. His entire being shivered, closing his eyes, teeth bared.

He looked between two pine trees. He saw a shape slink between the two pines. It was an animalistic shadow. Huge. Hogarth didn't see any fur on it, and judging by its size and physical form, the shadow looked bear-like.

That's when Hogarth finally noticed the metal claws. A beast. Another Ursa!

Hogarth hopped off his bike and walked it over to a grove of cypresses. The foliage hid him and his bike well enough to not be spotted.

"Hogarth?," whispered 5.

Hogarth leaned his bike against the trunk and crouched down, eyes locked on the potential beast.

"There's something lurking over there," he replied, still looking at the spot. "I think it's another Ursa." He let out a frustrated sigh. He sat on his haunches, cupping his hands together, holding them near his right pocket. 9 crawled out of the pocket and stepped gingerly on his hands. Hogarth raise him a little higher, the stitchpunk's face just inches away from his.

"What are we going to do?," asked Hogarth. "I didn't bring anything to fight with, and I don't know if that beast picked up my scent—"

"Hey," interjected 9, holding his hands up in a gesture for peace, "hey, it's going to be alright." He glanced down at the floor, trying to look for a suitable enough makeshift weapon. "Here," he uttered, pointing, "that stick. Use that."

Hogarth perched 9 on his shoulder. He picked up the stick, holding it up to his face. It certainly looked long enough and its point looked sharp enough to cut through his own skin. The branches must've been torn off a tree, it couldn't have been cut with a saw.

"It'll have to do," he muttered.

9 leaped off his shoulder, jogging over to the tree's roots. 5 crawled out of the coat pocket, followed by the twins, who joined 5 and gathered around 9 near the roots.

"Stay here," uttered Hogarth.

He crawled on his hands and knees, only, he crawled on one hand and carried the branch up to his chin with the other. He saw the shape emerge from the spot he saw it. Even from afar, he knew it was a machine. Its bear skull for a head gaped at the ground in search for what, Hogarth didn't know.

Don't mess this up, he ordered himself. I've got to do this right.

It was a good thing the Ursa was distracted, or it would've picked up on Hogarth following it. Eyes opened, he came to a standing position, only he bent his legs a bit, trying to be as quiet as possible. He watched the Ursa trudge away, mechanical grunts escaping its mouth. With the spear pointed at its hind legs, Hogarth quickened his pace a bit, hoping his footsteps would be overshadowed by the Ursa's grunts.

Hogarth slipped, landing on his hands and knees, the branch dropping. His eyes widened in horror. He just messed up when he tried his hardest to use the element of surprise.

The Ursa darted its head in both directions. It turned its head to look at Hogarth. The boy was cornered, the fear in his eyes growing by the second. The Ursa's red glowing optic gazed back at him, sending his soul asunder. Hogarth picked up the branch again, ready to strike when a shot rang out, causing him to duck. A flock of birds flew out of the trees. The Ursa ignored Hogarth, turning instead at its new prey.

Hogarth cracked open an eye and looked for an answer. Over to his right, several yards off, he saw a figure holding a rifle. He looked closer, eyes screwed. He recognized the white of his skin, the gray of his eyes, and the black of his hair. Elias Wolfe. Standing in all his foreboding glory. His fedora half-hid his eyes; scarf and coat blowing in the wind. He clicked his rifle, aimed it at the Ursa and fired.

Hogarth ducked again, face shielded behind his arms. He heard the Ursa growl, and it made the boy squeeze into a ball. Hearing a gunshot in real life was different than it was in the movies.

"Hogarth!," shouted Elias.

Hogarth didn't know whether to look up or not, but he opened an eye and took a peek. The Ursa was on its side, labored grunts escaping its mouth. He figured it was safe to sit up. He let out a much needed breath, letting the tension escape. Elias walked over, reaching into his pocket and pulled out a knife. Hogarth stayed where he was, and watched Elias saunter over to the beast.

The Ursa grunted, paws flailing in the air in a feeble attempt to get back up. Elias kicked one of its legs, sending a bolt flying off. He hoisted the knife and dug it into the machine's neck. Electricity circled around the severed nerves. Hogarth watched, stunned. He was too ensorcelled to move, much less make a sound. Elias shoved the knife into the Ursa's eye, blinding it, jolts of electricity sparking. The beast's legs trembled, its growls receded. In an instance it stopped moving. It was dead.

Elias let out an exasperated breath. He glanced over at Hogarth. The boy watched him with fear in his blue eyes. Fear mixed with awe with fascination laced in.

Hogarth looked over his shoulder. He'd almost forgotten about the stitchpunks during all this turmoil. He was surprised to see them racing towards him. Him and Elias.

9 was the first to reach Hogarth. The zippered stitchpunk flung his tiny arms around Hogarth's gargantuan arm.

"Are you all right?," he asked.

"When we heard that noise," said 5, reaching Hogarth, "we stayed behind and watched." He took a glance at the dead Ursa, then back at Hogarth. 5, feeling Elias' gaze burning into him, swiveled around to see the man looking right at him, rifle pointed at the ground.

3 and 4 sidled over to Hogarth, hiding under his arms. They gave off the vibe that they were brave, but deep down they were more scared of Elias than they were of the Ursa.

Elias approached Hogarth. 9 dug his fingers into Hogarth's sleeve, glaring daggers at the man.

"Hogarth," said Elias. His gaze turned over to the stitchpunks. He bent over, reaching out a hand.

9 swatted at Elias. "Get away from us!," he hollered.

Almost instantly Elias stood up straight, unflinching.

"Fair enough," said the man. He glance at Hogarth. "It was a good thing I came when I did, or you would've been done for."

"Yeah," replied Hogarth, raising a brow in suspicion. "Thanks."

Elias looked behind him, like something was watching him.

"Sure hope no one finds us," he uttered, more to himself than at Hogarth.

"I can help you hide it," said Hogarth.

"Covering it up with leaves?," retorted Elias, snapping his head at him. How did he know that? Hogarth glanced away until Elias spoke up. "Tell you what, help me bury it, and I won't tell your parents about this."

"That's something I can't do," replied Hogarth. He opened his coat pockets, the stitchpunks hurriedly scrambled inside each one. "I kind of promised my Mom that I would tell her if a beast attacked me." He briefly glimpsed at the Ursa before rising to his feet. He finally realized how tall Elias was.

"I understand that," said Elias. He looked behind him and back at the beast. "Should've brought a shovel."

"We'll improvise," said Hogarth.

Elias looked behind him again. "You might want to head home," he said, arching a brow, he turned back to face Hogarth, "I'll handle this."

Hogarth looked back at the cypress grove, remembering his bicycle. He turned, ready to leave, giving Elias a final glance before running off. He reached the cypresses, and jumped back on his bike. He pedaled past Elias. He didn't want to look back, but if he didn't he would only make this situation more difficult. Hogarth peeked back at the man, his scarf billowing in the wind. Elias' grey eyes stared back at Hogarth.

When he far enough away, Hogarth began brainstorming. How does he tell his parents about the Ursa? What is he going to say about Elias? Did he want Hogarth to tell them about him? What is Elias going to do after he hides the Ursa? Is he going to call the general? That seemed like something he'd do. It was probably on Elias' to do list. In his pockets, the four stitchpunks peeked at him, worried glances on their faces. They weren't so worried about Elias anymore, now they were worrying about what would come next. Would they be able to go back home? Did Elias know how? Does he know where the shelter is? That was also on Hogarth's mind, along with other things.

Hogarth wished he'd gotten to ask Elias about the Giant.

The school bell rang and it was the last class of the day. Hogarth picked up his books and grabbed his backpack. He was glad he didn't have photography club today. There was one thing he needed to do. Michael had yearbook today, which meant he would be riding the bid home with just Duncan today. But did he have to go home right away? He didn't think so.

Ambling down the stairs, Hogarth headed right, his destination: his locker. Opening it, he held out his backpack and 4, 5 and 9 jumped in. 3 was safely tucked away in his pocket. Hogarth grabbed another book and closed his locker.

He dashed out the door, ignoring the line of buses. He headed to the right, spotting a pay phone on the corner. He searched in his pants pockets, pulling out some change. He counted them. Two dimes and three quarters. He inserted a dime and dialed his phone number, pressing the phone to his ear. The phone was ringing. He hoped his mother or Dean answered.

"Hello? Hughes' residence," said Annie on the other line.

"Mom!"

"Hogarth?," same red his mother. "What are you calling for?"

"I'm calling to let you know that I'm going to be coming home a little later," he explained. He caught a glimpse of 3 poking his head out of his pocket, his gaze on the phone. "I'm going to spend time with a friend."

"You mean with Duncan and the others?"

"No," he bit his lip, "this is a new friend." He darted his eyes both ways. "I've got to go. I'll see you at dinnertime."

"Okay, Hogarth, be careful. Bye."

"Bye, Mom."

He hung up and put the phone back on the receiver. He looked around, checking to see if no one saw him. Paranoia was snaking its way around him. He had to get going. He crossed the street. He took off his backpack, and peeked inside. 9, 5 and 4 looked back at him. 3 flickered his optics to get the boy's attention. Hogarth, remembering they were out in the open, held a finger to his lips, then pointed around him. The hooded stitchpunk nodded and obediently tucked himself back inside the pocket.

"Where are we going?," asked 9.

"To find Elias," replied Hogarth.

9's face held a grim countenance.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

"I know what you think about him," retorted Hogarth, "but he's the only one who knows where the Mansley is."

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's working for Mansley?," questioned 5.

The one-eyed stitchpunk raised an interesting point. One that Hogarth would like to know.

"I've been thinking about that," said Hogarth. "And I highly doubt that he is."

"Why?," uttered 9.

"Because," spoke Hogarth, "the way he acts, I can tell that he doesn't trust anyone."

"What if it's just an act?," suggested 5.

"Yeah, but," mused Hogarth, "there's always the chance that he actually hates Mansely."

He took a turn down Walnut Lane and kept going unit he crossed another street. He really wished he knew where Elias liked to hang out.

"What are you going to ask Elias when you see him?," asked 9.

"What I have to ask him," said Hogarth, "find out where that shelter is, and see if Kent's hiding there."

"There's no doubt about it," quipped 5.

Hogarth was about to pass a bank when something caught his attention. He stopped and looked in the alley between the bank and the appliance repair store. He saw a figure looking at him. The way he looked at him sent chills down Hogarth's spine. It was Elias. Hogarth traipsed toward him.

"Elias," said Hogarth, "I was looking for you."

"Well you found me," replied Elias.

A chilled wind blew in through the alley, sending some old newspapers flying.

"Let's get out of here," said Elias. He caught a glance at 9, who glared right back at him. The man didn't need an explanation to know that the zippered stitchpunk didn't like him. Hogarth put his backpack back on and followed Elias out of the alley.

"Where are we going?," asked Hogarth, walking beside Elias.

"I thought I'd let you pick the place," responded Elias, hands shoved in his pockets.

"I wanna get out of the cold," said Hogarth, "let's head for the coffee shop."

"Alright, fine by me."

The two strolled down the street. Going down Oak Street and taking a turn from there, the walk was silent. Hogarth occasionally glanced at Elias, hoping the man wouldn't pick up on it. He smoothed down his coat, feeling 3 squirm in his pocket. The hooded stitchpunk peeked out and looked at Hogarth. The boy pressed a finger to his mouth, letting 3 know it wasn't time yet. He nodded, and hid in the pocket.

The coffee shop was in their midst. Hogarth could see the decorative sign that said, "Supreme Mug," with a picture of a coffee mug above the name. The two went in. It was the coffee shop Hogarth went with Elias last time. Last time they sat in a booth over to his right. This time they sat by the window over to their left.

Hogarth put his backpack next to him, opening it halfway.

"You guys alright?," he whispered.

"We're fine," said 9.

4 flashed her optics at him peevishly, arms crossed.

"Sorry," replied Hogarth, "guys and girl."

The crease in 4's brow loosened and she lightly smiled.

Hogarth held out his hand. 3 crawled out of his pocket and climbed on his hand. The boy quickly dropped him in his backpack, closing it immediately.

"There," muttered Hogarth. Elias, sitting across from him, glanced at his backpack as though he could see through the backpack. "So," quipped Hogarth, "about the other day."

"Right," said Elias. He was about to keep speaking when the waitress walked up to them, pen and pad ready. "I'll have an espresso."

The waitress looked over at Hogarth, brow raised.

"I'll have a cappuccino," said the boy.

The waitress walked away after scribbling down their orders. Elias looked back at Hogarth, placing his hands on the table, fingers interlocked.

"About that beast," said Elias.

"I call it an Ursa," quoth Hogarth, as though he needed to tell him what the machine was called.

"Right, Ursa." Elias gathered his thoughts. "After you left, I dug a hole with my bare hands." He caught Hogarth's surprised expression. "I know," he said, "but there wasn't anything I could use for a shovel. Before I buried it, I checked its structure. I pulled out those tubes and ripped open the ribcage, and found out it still had a living heart—a real heart."

Hogarth's stomach twisted, and sank to the bottom. He felt his own heart leap in its cage. He saw the waitress return with their orders. As soon as she gave him his cappuccino, Hogarth grabbed the cup and gulped down a big sip. His tongue burned from the hot coffee, his entire mouth on fire. He put the cup down, heaving out a breath.

Elias raised a brow, taking a sip of espresso. He set his cup down.

"It's a shock, I know," said Elias. "I nearly threw up myself. I ran back home and brought back a shovel. By the time I finished I made the walk home, and contacted the general."

"What did he say?," question Hogarth. Although he didn't show it, he was eager on the inside. He only hoped Elias couldn't tell he was that excited.

"He said," replied Elias, "that it was a sure sign that Mansley was behind the Ursa's existence."

"Did you find the shelter?," asked Hogarth.

"I was getting to that," said Elias. He paused to take a sip of espresso. "I went out yesterday to find out where it is. I travelled further than the usual way. I thought I would end up in the next town, but I happened to find something very interesting."

"The shelter?"

"Almost," clarified Elias. "Now I had to remain hidden, so I remained in the trees. I watched two men, soldiers, I believe, judging by the uniforms they wore. They were carrying a dead deer. One of the men stopped to do something on the ground. He cleared away some leaves and branches, and then he opened a door—"

"—to the shelter," interrupted Hogarth. He smiled sheepishly for having cut him short. Elias merely looked him in the eye, his lips a straight line.

"Yes," uttered Elias, "I was far away, but I watched them go underground, carrying that dead deer." He took another sip of espresso.

"God," exhaled Hogarth.

"You can imagine what they do down there," said Elias. "I had to leave before anyone saw me. My guess is: Mansley knows we're onto him and he isn't going to risk giving himself away, so he sends his lackeys to do his dirty work for him. Going out, hunting an animal..."

"And making them into machines," said Hogarth.

"Not completely," retorted Elias, "from what I saw, the Ursa still had its real heart. That was what probably kept it alive, but it needed its machine parts in order to work."

That doesn't make any sense, thought Hogarth. He looked down in thought. What was the point building these extravagant machines if it meant risking the lives of innocents? Hunting down animals who didn't deserve it. Forcing people to build those beasts who also don't deserve any of this mistreatment. What point was there?

"I know this is unfair, Hogarth," spoke Elias. "I do, too." He glimpsed over at the boy's backpack, knowing full well the stitchpunks were listening to every word. "In order to get your friends home, we have to take down Mansley and his troops. But I can't do it alone."

"What are you saying?," queried Hogarth.

"I mean," said Elias clearly, "that I'm going to have to inform the general on what I found. I haven't called him yet, for needing to tell you first. I'm going to need the general and his army to come down here soon. I don't know when, but Mansley needs to be taken down before he destroys this town and everyone in it."

Hogarth couldn't risk the lives of the townspeople. Not when they've done nothing wrong. And the possibility of his parents getting hurt. No, Hogarth wouldn't abide to that. He wasn't going to let that happen. He was going to stand his ground.

"What do we have to do?" Hogarth asked.

"You," said Elias, "can start by warning your family about Mansley. It may come as a shock to them since I'm probably sure they though he was dead."

"It came as a shock to me," reiterated Hogarth. He drank his cappuccino.

"Yeah, well, tell your parents about Mansley."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you were there to tell them?," inquired Hogarth, setting the cup down.

Elias gave him a quizzical glance.

"You're the one who knows where the shelter is," said Hogarth, "and you're the special agent. Plus, it would be easier on me telling my parents; you can fill them in on what you know."

Elias sat there, wordlessly considering his idea. It wasn't a bad idea on his part, but having to meet Hogarth's parents. He'd only seen them from afar on the street. After reluctantly coming here, he saw that there was more to this mission than just keeping an eye on Hogarth. Now he knew the true danger of not informing everyone of what was about to transpire.

"Invite me to your house Friday night," said Elias, "I'll tell them everything then."

"Okay," retorted Hogarth.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?," asked 9.

"Bringing him over to your house," said 5. "What if he tries to hurt you or your parents?"

Hogarth paced back and forth nervously, arms folded under his chest. Did he want to bring Elias over to his house? After all, it was Elias who suggested it. But was it really a good idea? Dean would think he's secretly working for Mansley. Hogarth could just see his and his mother's reactions to finding out Mansley is in fact alive. It was hard to accept, but it was the truth. The truth hurts, that Hogarth knew.

"Who else is there?," mused Hogarth. "There's no one else but Elias."

"But do you really think they'll believe Elias?," questioned 9.

"They might not," said Hogarth, "they might not even trust him."

3 flickered his optics at Hogarth. The boy tilted his head, eyebrow raised.

"Need me to translate?," offered 5.

Hogarth shook his head. "No," he piped, "I think I know what he's saying."

"And what is he saying?," said 9.

"They're saying you don't know who you can trust until you trust them," said Hogarth, eyes locked on 3.

"Do you trust Elias?," queried 5.

That was an interesting question. A question he didn't know how to answer. He had so many answers he could give him instead of the one he wanted to say.

"I," spoke Hogarth. 5 and the other three waited to hear his answer.

Since he met Elias, Hogarth did an analysis on him. Pulling out what was different between him and Kent Mansley. He remembered when he and Mansley had that staring showdown that one night. The way he stared at him, it made him feel like he was being seen through an x-ray scan. His piercing blue eyes were nothing compared to Elias' hypnotic gray stare. He was Mansley's antithesis in all ways. Elias was wavy where Mansley was sharp. Smooth where he was hard. The only factor Hogarth could think of was when Elias looks at you, he demanded your attention at that very moment. And that was one thing Mansley failed at doing.

"Hogarth," said 9.

The boy gazed down at the zippered stitchpunk. 9 blinked at him. Beside him, 5 glanced at him concernedly. The twins, despite not having voices, they honed out their worriment all over the place.

"I," said Hogarth, "I trust Elias."

"Fully?," said 5.

"No," admitted Hogarth, "but... I want to. I know it'll take me a while to build up my trust toward him, but for now he and I are at... Try to think of it as crossing a tightrope over a river."

The twins furrowed their brows.

"It just means—"

"I understand what it means," remarked 9, "and I kind of understand."

"You do?"

"Yes. I know it may surprise you, but I do understand what you're trying to convey. You just met Elias and you don't know whether his intentions are good or not. So...you're at a place where you two can't be sure about the other, so..."

"We're walking on eggshells," said Hogarth. He didn't know if that phrase was adequate for this situation, but this was the closest he could limn it. 9's confused look told Hogarth he didn't know what that phrase meant. "I forgot you don't know what it means."

4 flickered her optics, grabbing everyone's attention.

"She seems to know," commented Hogarth.

"You've got to hand it to the twins for being living encyclopedias," said 5, smiling.

"It's a good thing they're here," said Hogarth.

"Yeah," quipped 9.

Hogarth sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes landing on the picture frame behind the stitchpunks.

"I really wish you were here, Dad," said Hogarth.

9 moved away after realizing the boy was talking to the picture frame, the photo of his father. 5 and the twins sidled away, too.

"You'd love these four," said Hogarth, "but I'm guessing you can already see them from up there." He looked out the window, at the starry night sky. The full moon hidden behind a thin layer of mist. It would look more wistful if it were snowing.

"I really miss you," said Hogarth.

9 hopped off the nightstand, walking to the boy. He planted a tiny hand against Hogarth's arm. The boy looked down at the zippered stitchpunk. He offered a small smile. This in turn got Hogarth smiling back.

Whatever was going to come their way, they would be ready. Even without the Giant aiding them.

Wasn't that spine-chilling, or what?! :D I've really gotta hand it to myself. And I keep fretting over how each chapter's going to pan out. I really got to have more faith in myself.

Also, the part where Hogarth called his mother from the pay phone, I'm sorry if I got the price wrong. It's just there aren't a lot of pay phones anymore, and the movie's plotline does take place in the 50's, although in this case my fanfiction takes place in 1960. I wanted to be accurate.

Don't forget to look out for chapter eleven. :)