Hey, everyone! Sorry these updates are few and far apart, but I have a lot going on recently that has kept me from having much computer time at all. Now, my sister, niece and nephew have moved out of our house so I can start writing more frequently now! Yay! If you follow my Tumblr ( foreveralwaysanauthor) you'd know that I had a full chapter ready to be posted, but my sister (a flipping 36 year old and the same one that just moved out) had been proofreading and deleted the whole thing by accident. So, yeah.

Btw, if you look up the first three numbers in parenthesis of the phone numbers, you'll find the real locations of where I've decided this whole story takes place. It's the area codes. But, I guess, if you want it all to happen in your own way too, that's fine. Just know that they are there for whoever likes Easter eggs. I have quite a few in this chapter; see if you can find them all!

Anyway, enjoy!

/3rd PoV\

Later that day, Butchy had been put into physical therapy since he was doing so well. Since his therapy would take almost an hour, Mick decided to go visit her family back home, even though it wasn't time for her to. Lela took over Mick's place in the hospital room, waiting for Butchy to come back. It was about as interesting as watching paint dry, but it gave her time to go over her plans.

Her plans weren't exactly the nicest she had ever thought of, but they were there. You see, she had made a promise when Xander had hit Butchy at the race. A promise to herself more than anybody else. A promise she didn't dare speak out loud for obvious reasons. Lela promised to take charge for once and get back at the person who put her older brother in the hospital.

It was more than a promise; it was a quest for revenge. Lela opened the closet that held Butchy's things. Mick had taken the bloodied outfit Butchy had come in, back to Lela's house to be cleaned of blood and washed, and replaced it with fresh ones for when he would be let out of the hospital. Lela pushed the clothes aside and grabbed the wallet Mick had hidden between Butchy's helmet and his shoes. Lela opened the wallet and pulled out a piece of paper that she knew Butchy kept phone numbers and addresses on. She had seen him use it multiple times when he had somewhere to be. Hopefully, it would still have the information of the Sparx headquarters on it.

Lela unfolded the paper and scanned it carefully, making sure she left nothing unnoticed.

Mr. Mark Harmon (727)-555-0126 - 7100 Sunshine Skyway Drive

Honey Bunn (Real Estate) (949)-555-0141 - 4123 Calle Lisa Ave

Uncle Tony + Aunt Frankie (813)-555-0197 - 914 Hemingway Lane

Xander Murdox (407)-555-0177 - 6226 Gasparilla Blvd

'Finally,' Lela sighed to herself. She took a pen from her skirt pocket and scribbled the address on the palm of her hand. She put the pen back in her pocket, blowing on her hand to make sure it dried before she did anything else. After thinking through her plan one more time, Lela gathered up her courage and left the hospital room. Not only would she need to be physically prepared for this, but she knew she'd also need the mental preparation as well. Xander and his gang of baboons would be tricky to deal with. Their snake-like deception was insanely difficult to decipher and Lela knew that dealing with their cousin would, no doubt, be rough.

Yes, Xander was their cousin. While growing up, Butchy, Xander and Lela had all been great friends. They had spent so much time together as kids that they were practically inseparable. Well, until Xander's mom (Butchy and Lela's mom's sister, Mary) and dad had to move them to a different county and the trio became a duo. Lela had written letters to Xander over the years, especially for Xander's birthday, but, for some reason, the letters were never returned. In the meantime, Xander had formed his little band of misfits and, by the time he turned nineteen, he had moved closer to Lela and Butchy with his gaggle following close by.

Xander had never been truly cruel until recently. He had started racing Butchy and the Rodents as soon as he realized that Butchy lived only a short distance away. After the Sparx lost the first handful of races, Xander seemed to change. His attitude toward Butchy and all of their old friends had turned more sour than a lemon. Lela noticed that Xander had started playing dirty in the races; whether it was manipulation or just straight up cheating in order to win, Xander was desperate to win at any cost.

The familial bond of the three musketeers was gone.

Long gone.

"It's so good to spend time with you guys again," Mick claimed, clumping sand in her hands as she sat with her parents on the beach. "With all of the wedding stuff and the memory problems and with Butchy being in the hospital, I haven't been calm enough during my visits to actually spend a good day with you."

"I know, Princess," Brady spoke calmly, putting an arm around his daughter's shoulders.

Mack held Mick's hand and smiled reassuringly at her daughter. "Sweetie, with everything going on, we know how stressed you were. It happens. You know what, though? We love spending time with you no matter what the circumstances."

"I love you both," Mick said softly as she brought her parents into a hug. "You're the best."

Brady smiled mischievously, his eyes twinkling in childlike spirit. "Just wait until you see what we have planned for you, Baby Girl."

Mick's eyes widened slightly, her mouth moving as though she were trying to from words. "Mom, Dad, you really don't have to-"

"But we want to, hon," Mack stated firmly. "Besides, it isn't just for you. It's for you and Butchy and anyone else you want to know about it."

Mick tilted her head like a confused puppy. "Okay, now I'm confused. What exactly is this surprise plan?"

Brady smirked. "You'll see tomorrow, peanut. For now, enjoy the suspense of not knowing and have a fun day out with your parents, okay?" The sandy haired man stood from the sand, his wife joining him with a knowing smile as they watched their daughter's facial expressions.

"What?!" Mick exclaimed in astonishment. "No, not okay! You can't just dangle that in front of me like a bone in front of a dog on a treadmill!"

Brady and Mack walked away hand in hand as they waited for Mick to be done with her rant. Mick scrambled off the sand and grabbed her purse, scrambling to catch up with her parents as they headed back toward their house. They walked for a few minutes while Mick followed them, her argument continuing endlessly. As Brady and Mack reached their garage and climbed in the car, they realized something. No matter how much time passed or how old she got, one thing would never change; their darling daughter would still remain the same.

As soon as his physical therapy was over, Butchy was able to be brought to the cafeteria for lunch. The therapist, an older woman named Althea, was very strict on him which worked wonders and Butchy found himself getting along with the woman already. She had pushed him to do his best and encouraged him by telling him to focus on his fiancé (which worked wonders for his motivation). She said that he seemed to be improving much quicker than some of her other patients and Butchy had to laugh when he saw the sweet woman glaring heatedly at the back of a teenage boy who had come in with a (in her mind) minor sports related injury.

The woman had been so kind as to offer Butchy a cup of ice cream as he was such a good patient. She had told her assistant to help with the next patient so she could take her lunch break and, once she had free time, Althea took Butchy in a wheelchair down to the cafeteria. Butchy was all too happy to be away from his hospital room for a little while longer. Althea bought lunch for the two of them even though Butchy insisted he could pay as long as she brought him to his room for a quick minute. They sat together at a small table, Butchy nibbling at a bowl of campanelle pasta while Althea ate a small portion of fish and chips. The chit chat was small, yet polite, but Althea noticed that Butchy was as vigorous about eating as she thought he'd be. "You not hungry, kid, or is the food just that terrible?" she asked.

Butchy looked up from the bowl of pasta and met the older woman's eyes with a smile. "It's not that, ma'am. Y'see, my wife makes this for me on special days or anniversaries and it tastes nothing like hers at all so it's taking me a bit to get used to."

"Ah," Althea acknowledged thoughtfully before sipping at her tomato juice. "My husband used to do something like that for me on my birthday or our wedding anniversary. He'd make me pancakes or french toast and he'd burn it every single time, but I loved it all the same because it came from him."

Butchy's smile brightened as he listened to Althea's story, yet it slowly turned into a confused frown. "What do you mean by 'used to'?"

Althea put her fork back down and smiled at the young man in front of her. "My husband passed away seven years ago, honey. We'd been married since 1907. I was sixteen and he was nineteen. If he had made it two more years, we would have had our fiftieth anniversary."

"Wow," Butchy mumbled softly. "Were you two… I mean, did you… were you happy?"

Althea nodded slowly, reaching over and holding Butchy's hand. "Very happy. We had a great life together and we never got sick of each others company. How long have you and your wife been together?"

Butchy fidgeted nervously under the woman's gaze as he tried to explain, "W-We aren't married yet, ma'am. I just call her my wife out of-"

"True love." Althea finished for Butchy. The woman smiled and patted the young man's hand. "Listen to me, young man, a love like that is something worth holding on to. My husband and I had a love like that and it lasted us a long time. Tell me, have you ever seen this girl go through something difficult? A loss in her family, a rough illness, something we never wish for them to go through? If you can survive that with them, that love will most likely last a long while."

Butchy nodded solemnly and focused his attention on the lunch table. "Before I got in my accident, she had lost her memory. She remembered her close family and stuff like that, but she forgot everything that had happened in the last two years I had been with her. She didn't even know who I was. I thought I had lost her, but I didn't know what to do. How can you make someone love you, if they don't know who you are?"

Althea remained silent, simply wishing to hear Butchy's story. He took a deep breath and, when he looked back up again, the 71-year old woman could see his eyes glossed over with unshed tears. Butchy sighed shakily, "I wanted, so badly, to tell her that I love her and encourage her mind so that she might actually come back to me, but I would look at her and see the emptiness. ...It just wasn't her. It wasn't my Makana. It was the fifteen, almost sixteen, year old little girl I fell in love with trapped inside the eighteen, year old body of my future wife. Well, nineteen. She had her birthday while she had no memory. But, anyway, it was like looking into the eyes of an imposter.

"I tried so many times to talk with her, but I knew, I just knew that if I did, I'd break. My Mickie, my beautiful queen, was somewhere I couldn't join her and I just- I couldn't!" Butchy's voice cracked into silence as he finally let his tears fall freely down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing to be sorry for. You love her with all your heart and you were scared for her. That is a normal human emotion, nothing to be sorry for." Althea stood from her seat and gave the man a hug. "Honey, did you ever tell her this? I'm sure she'd like to know your side of the story."

"No," Butchy muttered weakly. "I'm supposed to be the knight in shining armor who isn't afraid of anything."

Althea leaned away from Butchy and clipped him behind the ears. "That is the dumbest thing I've heard come out of your mouth. My husband was the toughest man I know. He served in World War 2 and dealt with bombs and idiotic people for years, but he if he saw a spider, he'd shriek and run for cover! If you think that you need to hide your every thought and emotion from your wife to be her knight, then you don't really have a good faith in your relationship."

Butchy could only stare at the woman in awe. She was a tough old brute, and she had said so herself, but she had the most care for her patients underneath it all. She was probably right- that earned him another clip behind the ear. Was this woman a mind reader as well as a physical therapist?!

"I'm not probably right, I am right and you know it." Althea smirked at Butchy confidently and let out a soft laugh. "Finish your food, mister. I bet your wife will be waiting for you when you get back to your room, so hop to it."

6226 Gasparilla Boulevard, not exactly something Lela could say was more than she expected for her cousin and his babbling, bumbling, band of baboons. Lela bet that if it weren't for the 13, 14, nope, 15 motorcycles parked outside the house with the Sparx logo (a shield with their motto "Fight for Honor and Die for Freedom" in a banner) etched into the side, she'd probably guess it was just another house.

The location of the Sparx headquarters wasn't hard to find so it was no wonder Mick found it easy to just walk up and talk to Xander about the Harley piece for Butchy's bike. Lela noticed someone exiting the building so she quickly ducked so she was hidden by the fence. She could see through the fence just enough to see Xander close and lock the front door, pocket the key and switch the outside porch light off. With him out of the building, getting inside wouldn't be a problem. Well, maybe it would be; she didn't exactly have a spare key.

Lela moved as stealthily as she could as Xander climbed on to his bike and put on his helmet, speeding out of the area at a speed that was, no doubt, breaking the speed limit. As soon as she saw Xander's taillights disappear down the road, she popped up from her hiding spot and entered the headquarters' parking lot. Lela had switched from her ever-cheerful pink outfit into an all black unit that would blend in easily with the darker attire Xander's crew wore. Just in case, you know?

Lela made sure no one else was leaving the building before sneaking over to the door and searching for any sign of a spare key. There were no rocks nearby that they would hide them under. The only "potted plant" - if you could even call it that - was dead and looked like it had been for a while now. Finally, Lela checked under the front door mat and saw, to no surprise, that it was there. The small key had a silver S surrounded by black paint and was the obvious choice for the lock to the front door.

Her cousin was so predictable.

After three hours of shopping at various stores and then, of course, the mall, Mack and Brady brought Mick back home to unpack everything and get everything put away in it's proper place. Mick was still itching to know what the surprise was, but her parents were adamant that they were not going to tell her ahead of time. Mack and Brady were good at keeping a secret, if their 76 year old beach movie secret wasn't proof enough for Mick. She knew her parents were up to something big because she hadn't even gotten the slightest hint as to what they were planning.

As they put away items, the now nineteen year old noticed a yellow bag with blue lettering that remained untouched on the kitchen island counter. She emptied the bag she had been holding and put it's contents in their appropriate places before inspecting the suspicious bag that rested innocently on the counter. "What's this for? I don't remember us picking this up."

Mack chuckled lightly as she turned to see what her daughter was looking at. "Remember when your dad went out to the car because he thought he might've left the keys in it again?"

"Again," Mick giggled, "Yeah, I remember."

"Well," Brady started, taking the yellow bag and taking hold the contents, yet not taking them out. "What I really left for was this. It's Saturday, Baby Girl."

Brady's hand left the bag, holding three movies, two jumbo, microwave popcorn bowls and, after he set those on the counter, he pulled out a couple boxes of candy and a pack of his daughter's favorite bubble gum. Mick's eyes widened in excitement as she watched her dad empty the contents of the bag. As soon as the bag was empty, she wrapped her dad in a hug.

"I've missed Surf's Up Saturday," Mick claimed into Brady's shirt, her arms forming a vice grip on his waist.

Mack smiled at the pair before making her way over and joining their hug. "I had a feeling you might, so I sent him out for a few minutes."

Brady peered down at his two girls, planting a kiss on both of their brown haired heads. "I do, however, have a special surprise for the both of you. I invited some guests to join us."

"Really, who?" Mack asked in confusion, Brady finding amusement in the fact that the mother and daughter had identical expressions on their faces.

Brady smirked mischievously. "I guess you'll have to wait to find out. They'll be here soon, though. I can guarantee that."

After they finished putting away the groceries and other necessities, they family relaxed in the living room, waiting for their mystery guests to arrive. Once the sky started to change colors, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the people Brady had invited. Brady sent Mick to answer the front door and as soon as she opened the door, she knew why.

Mick exclaimed cheerfully, so much so that it was a surprise that none of the neighbors had called the cops for her excessive noise, "Hudson!"