Frequency

by Vanessa S. Quest

Long-haul fanfic involving my OCs in the verse. All is not well in Denmark, the familial strife comes to a head- and GAIA has made a major move, only they grabbed the wrong kid? What's going on! Please R & R!

2. Chapter 2

Frequency [Chapter 2] by Vanessa S. Quest

Jonny sat across from TK and the 'Olson Twins' Matt and Bobby in study hall.

"You guys won't believe it…" He said in all smiles as they continued on their group report.

"What? You got to have a private viewing of the play so you can contribute to the group project?" TK egged.

The blond rolled his eyes, "No, but I've read Wicked and have seen it a season ago, no—it's not about the project."

"You were kidnapped by Amazonian women and they want to study we, mediocre, men?" Bobby added to the fray.

"Come on guys, I'm serious—it's…"

"You're pregnant!?" Matt said proudly, "I'm sure there's an ethics committee discussion ongoing, but—"

Jonny leaned his head back to groan, "No, but it is about family… partial credit."

"You really are adopted?"

"—An alien?"

"—You got Jessie knocked—just kidding. That'd be Hadji."

The three said in the same order.

"Fine, you guys want to work on this solo. I'll take the hint," he huffed.

TK grabbed his arm, "No way, our bombshell blond is our lucky charm! What is it? Another huge fight with your dad? Was that why you really ditched us?"

"Kind of. Dad wouldn't let me go because someone made a 'credible threat.' And then I found out I have a sister!" The boys shot forward in their seats.

"Like some 25 year old rogue who's been kicked outta the family for selling weapons to drug cartels or mines blood diamonds?"

"Or like your dad cloned someone—"

"—Or has a new… never mind." Bobby froze as Jonny shot him a death glare.

"No, like my dad never told me I had a twin., and said twin supposedly was dead but was really switched at birth."

Tk laughed darkly, "Huh, so I guess that theory of yours wasn't completely off base…"

Jonny looked down, hurt, "Yeah, well, apparently." He shook his head suddenly regretting opening his own wounds, "But it was great! I met her, and the first time in my whole life that I can remember, I met a person who didn't get impressed by my dad just because he was in the room!"

The twins looked between themselves. "…Is she slow?" Matt articulated.

"Not at all, but she does think dad's an egotistical prick and self-flagellating, her words, not mine."

"No shit, you couldn't spell that."

"What? Self-flagellating?"

Bobby laughed, "No, prick."

He rolled his eyes, "She liked me right away, though. And she listened to me… it was almost like talking with mom."

The boys looked between themselves, none of them were assholic enough to mock a guy's dead mom. "…So what're you going to do?" TK ventured, he closed the report binder.

"…Dad wants her to visit here, but her dad—the guy who raised her—he also thinks dad's not hot sh…well, stuff."

"But if she's your sister, doesn't your dad get custody?" Matt asked.

"I'd get why, with the Quest track record, her dad would be leery. Most kids don't need bodyguards or get kidnapped or roped into doomsday cults on the reg." Bobby chimed glibly.

"No, apparently that's genetic. She has my level of 'luck,' be it the good, the bad, or the weird."

"…Wait… how did you find out about her?"

Jonny smiled sadly, "That credible threat grabbed her thinking she was me."

"Holy shit! Where?!"

"On Broadway, during the class trip."

TK paled, "…I thought I was tripping and saw your doppelganger but they were pale, and skinny- even for you."

"…Yeah, I saw. Dad almost had a coronary infarction when I walked in—he had got a video ransom and was pissed that I, 'yet again,' didn't listen to him, even though I was at breakfast with all of them not even three hours before." He rolled his eyes, "…I thought it was some sick joke at first, but… yeah. She lives in New York."

"…Why did she look like a guy? She a really late bloomer or something?"

"No, she was in drag. Well, 'disguise'—refer back to my luck being genetic. She apparently calls herself Jonny if she needs to lay low… that… didn't play out well for her last weekend."

"What's her real name?"

Jonny smiled fondly, "Venus."

"…So she got kidnapped, but you met her—so I guess you went and rescued her?" TK counted, trying to figure it all out.

"No. Her dad did, actually. She got stabbed twice for her troubles, and I really think that'll keep her dad a big fan of ours… well, of my dad and family. But he's so cool, like Race except even more BAMF."

"…" The boys looked between themselves, wondering about it.

"I can't talk about her family, I don't think I have their permission—but her dad threatened to deck my dad." He laughed a doofy, gallows-humored laugh.

"How is that good?" Bobby ventured. Jonny swallowed thickly.

"…Do you have any idea what it's like in the shadows of Mount Quest and always being told or seeing it demonstrated how you're the stupid one, the reckless one, the clumsy one, the one who's never good enough? Like, normal parents don't outsource their kids, right? But I go home every day to jokes that Jessie and I must've been swapped, and Hadji—dad's 'right hand guy,' his chosen kids… versus the genetic 'oops' of a fuck-up." He wiped a hand down his face. He rarely laid it out, but he knew his friends sensed his self-consciousness. Goofs always read the writing, after all. "…And her dad told me he thought I was smart, and even guessed what I would be interested in… I asked dad that and he was half-tempted to strangle me for my 'bad' grades that would keep me from a promising career in robotic engineering without him calling in some major favors."

"That still?" TK gawked, "Because you did well in robot camp when you were 10?"

"Because it's engineering and that or science is the only viable thing I, as a Quest, could ever clearly desire or strive for… reference Mt. Quest." He pointed to an imagined summit he was drowning in the shadow of.

"…So they fought about parent styles and you?"

Jonny shrugged. "And how it'd be the same with Venus and that's not good enough. He put my dad on notice."

Bobby and Matt's jaws dropped, having heard some stories from their mom that they'd never share. TK dared, "Holy shit, has your dad ever been 'put on notice?'"

"Not like that, no. He's 'soul searching' right now… but for the first time in years it was almost—ALMOST like he heard me. Me. Not the kids, not society or his expectations—but what I wanted and needed… and that he ordained he'd consider it."

"You are a very depressing Bond Blond today, yo." TK joked flatly.

"…Are you okay, anyway?" Bobby asked, scratching his jaw near where Jonny had a small bruise.

"Not particularly, he's soul-searching, I'm feeling the perks of my gilded cage. Not too many perks, but on Halloween I get to visit my sister alone—no Jessie, no Hadji, no dad, no Race, sadly no Bandit either, that's the one downside, Darren's not into pets in his house at all."

"That's cool, I guess. How'd you swing no 'rental supervish?"

"Darren'll be there," he shrugged, "That and they probably want a break from me, anyhow." He laughed to mask the hitch in his throat. "Sorry, I'm being a Debbie Downer instead of an Ursula Upper… It's just been so much. I felt like a voyeur seeing how they acted like a real family… how much her dad cared and wanted to know her as a person… and strove for it. It's lame, but I'm a little jealous—but I'll live vicariously, see what that life is like instead of 'fit round peg in square slot.'"

"Yeah, it isn't easy being Green, huh?" Matt pantomimed. Bobby tossed a highlighter at him.

"No. No you will not be that punishing. Only Jonny can get away with ones that awful!"

"Thanks guys… anyway, for the paper- what theme are we covering?"

"We can pick it—off-label, I mean. It could be about how the themes of power and friendship intersect, or how religion and wealth worked against—or even what the royalty or how color shaped perception?"

Jonny gave TK a dirty look. "Stop reading Spark Notes. Ms. Labinski will know, we will fail, and then my dad will use my corpse for scientific experiments. Let's focus on the changes in the main characters' lives and how it shifted from the original work to add motivation and explanations."

"Shoe-horn canon… on it."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

"Aw man, if we don't get an A+ on that, I don't know what will."

"Yeah, Jonny—why have we never taken honors classes together before?! We call dibs on being your partners all year."

Jonny shrugged, "Let's get the paper back first, it'll either be an A or an F for not keeping on point."

"Ms. L's not going to fail that, Jonny. No way." TK added in.

The teen smiled at his school friends, this year was their sophomore year, and so far, it was the first honors or AP class they'd taken together. Freshman year, he'd met TK at a school assembly and helped out in club activities—extensive travel schedule permitting, Bobby in art class and Matt in German class—though he knew them through Mrs. Evans too; they lucked out into study hall together, but they didn't have lunch together until this year.

As the bell chimed, they all separated to the second to last class of the day. For Jonny, that was PE followed by AP Chemistry… his least favorite class, but at least he had a solid B+ in it, much to his dad's personal disappointment.

He bumped into Jessie in the hallway.

"Oh, hey Jess."

"Hey yourself, space cadet." Jessie teased, "I was waving you over from hallway down the hall!"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Chemistry. I heard there's going to be a pop-quiz. I have study hall next, so I'm going to cram, but be forewarned."

"Ugh… I do not need that negativity in my life." He sighed.

Jessie laughed, "It's not too bad, it's supposed to be on chapter 7—just look at the definitions before you come in."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"Thank Kathy, she's the one who warned me."

Jonny smiled, headed to the locker room double-time. Gym class had passed quickly, this topic was track and field, and with the triathlon approaching, he'd nailed the running portion with ease, endurance running for the ten laps, he had pulled one of the best times in the group. The only person who 'bettered' him was on the track team for cross-country and that was by two yards. Not that he was being competitive, he had the reserve where he could've sprinted that last lap, he just didn't feel the need to be a complete show-boat.

Really, like he'd ever be 'proud' of an A in gym. Hell, his dad would just lecture him about the B+ in AP Chemistry and talk at him about priorities and focus like always.

Endorphins quickly were replaced by his own angst. Jessie had an A in Chem, not a high A but it was still solid. Jonny, on the other hand, was at the cusp of an A- or as his dad would say, 'bare minimum.'

He flipped open his book to cram. He'd read chapters 7 and 8 on the flight home, but he still wasn't sure about when a reaction pushed the benzyl ring to add an ortho, mesa, or para- in methylation. "Ugh, I hate general chem…" He groaned, still unsure.

Conceptually, he got it—charges and stability impact the where but even 'chair' or 'boat' got confusing because then you'd have cis and trans attachments to consider, and the bigger the additive, the more likely it would affect the overall formation.

He was spatially inclined, but that wasn't about space. That was all about memorizing formulae to reaction, and forgetting the right name was tanking his shot at a passable report card.

He felt so stupid in AP Chem. He hated that his dad insisted he take it even though he didn't take high-school Chemistry or even Honors Chemistry… Biology had been fine, hell, Physics would've been okay to just wing, but Chemistry?! It was the worst.

He groaned as he eyed Chapter 7 and 8's definitions, he was ready for this day to be over and to go for a run and a bike ride.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Jessie let out a long whistle at the end of class. Even by her standards, that quiz had been cruel, "Kathy didn't say Mr. Stevens was mad at us."

Another student groaned, "It wasn't, that's the 'Quest Factor,' he made ours even harder 'cuz numb-nuts here is in our class." Todd said bitterly, shouldered toward Jonny.

Jonny rolled his eyes.

"Carrie told me about the 'hard' question theirs had, it was draw the structure after describing the reaction listed. That… I don't even know what that was!"

"Oh, you mean draw the apparatus, calculate the moles and list the three different possible outcomes was too hard? And the percentage you'd see of each?" Jonny bit, pissed.

"It's your fault we get this shit. Why not drop the class and give us a snowball's shot in hell to get a good grade…" Todd bickered back.

"I can't drop the class." Jonny seethed, more at himself, he wished he could.

"John! John, I have a question for you before you head out…" Mr. Stevens called toward his bench where he was packing up to catch the bus.

Jonny looked around, "You mean me, Mr. Stevens?"

"Yes, you, John."

Jonny groaned inwardly, smiled politely and encroached the demon's inner lair. "Sir, I really only go by Jonny…"

"What self-respecting teenager uses—no, never mind." He caught himself, it only made Jonny even more eager to be receptive.

"Your question, sir? The bus—" he pointed to the time to indicate it would leave soon.

"Oh, right, so I saw your dad recently put out an article about antibiotic infused plastics. Could you ask him if he'd be willing to present the topic to the class in two weeks? A guest lecture on that, especially once we're in plastics would be—"

"—Sorry, sir, no-can-do. He has a conference and a research project he's ramping into…" Jonny deflected with practiced grace.

"Oh, well, in that case, you could present it! I assume your dad talks to you about—"

"—You want me to present on a topic we haven't covered in class on an advanced concept of said topic?" Jonny balked. This guy had some damn nerve. "All due respect, sir—I don't fully grasp the reactions—I can talk concepts and theories, but if you to teach that lesson, you'd be way more qualified in giving that presentation. I could ask dad for his notes on it, or bring in the article, but I couldn't…"

Mr. Stevens gave him an impatient look. Quest factor was right. This guy hated him. Apparently, he was about to get back on the cusp of a B.

"With an attitude like that, I almost think I need to call your father about your performance in class, John."

He was grinding his teeth, fuming. He fixed his 'confident' smile, "Did you ask other students to present? Or their parents to?"

"I only ask what I think my students are capable of."

"Really? Then why didn't you ask Jessie? Or am I just capable of being a poor substitute of my dad, Mr. Stevens?"

"I did not say that, John!"

"It's Jonny. My name is not John, Mr. Stevens. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to catch my bus."

"Young man, tomorrow, on your study break swing by my office."

Jonny rolled his eyes. Great. Now he'd get in-school suspension or detention. With a hurried pace he made it to the buses just in time.

"There you are! I thought you'd miss it." Jessie waved him over to a seat.

"Yeah, Mr. Stevens wants me to ask dad for something." He muttered, "Like an excuse to ship me off to military school."

"What'd he ask about?"

Jonny shrugged, "You know, if dad would guest lecture… seriously, I'm not opening that bag of worms."

Jessie looked at Jonny in concern. "Your dad loves to talk about his projects, though."

"Yeah. I'm aware, Jess. And then he'll be invited to all my science classes and be even more annoyed at how stupid his…" he blushed, "Forget it." Jonny turned conspicuously to stare out another window.

"Is this about your fight last weekend and what that girl said?"

"That 'girl'? Jess, that's my sister. Seriously, none of you get it, do you?" He spotted an empty seat three rows up, eyed it with longing.

"Just because she looks like you doesn't mean she's really related. And she wouldn't even do the blood test! It could be a scam, you know!"

His eyes darkened dangerously, he gave her a measured glare. "Are you kidding me?" His voice went to a deep husk, it startled Jessie into silence for a moment.

He stood up, driver be damned, and switched seats.

"Jonny!" Jessie fumed.

He had to keep his cool, she hadn't heard about how his dad had slapped him for liking someone else's parenting style. She'd only heard the scrubbed-up version, they fought because he felt rushed and that his dad was being dismissive, not about how his dad thought he was an idiot wasting his life and getting attached to people who treated each other with love and respect and actually made quality time for each other.

He wondered when he really started to get so jealous and feel left out of his own life. Were they mutual, or did one predate the other? He turned to look out the window, one angry redhead was more than enough to have to avoid, but two? Even he needed a break sometimes.

"Jonny." She continued, "Don't let her poison you, she's just jealous is all…" She tried for tact, "Your dad's an amazing, smart, world-famous scientist and her feigning disinterest is clearly just—"

He rolled his eyes and neck, "Jess, she's not feigning. She doesn't give a damn that dad's cured three unique diseases, helped advance space travel, and is an avid environmentalist. She doesn't care. Full stop. She's right, he is an egotistical prick. That doesn't mean he's not also really kind, or compassionate, or that he doesn't love you guys—it just means he can be self-centered. And she's right."

"…What do you mean 'loves you guys'? Jonny—he loves you, too…"

Diplomatically, Jonny said, "Of course he does." Darren was 100% right about half-truths. He loved the idea of a genetic legacy, "I don't want to get into this on a bus."

"Alright, well, talk to me. We're friends."

"Sure… after my training." He said non-committedly, luckily she hadn't picked up on that. At their stop, they got off the bus and began the long walk up the driveway in silence.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

In his room, Jonny plowed through his homework and reading. He couldn't give his dad any grounds to renege on him. As it was, Mr. Stevens was already working on that front!

Jonny closed his door, even going so far as to lock and brace it shut with a chair. He needed time alone to think. That was laughable though, he usually had plenty of time alone, the others always hung around his dad.

He rested his forehead against his forearms. Damn it, he missed his mom. She always knew how to get through to him when he was sad or hurting. At least, that's how he remembered it. Eyes closing, he wondered back to his earlier questions—when had he really started to feel jealous and left out?

Maybe it was more systemic than he'd thought… his dad used to ignore him for weeks even when his mom was alive. And then, she died and the behavior was the same. It was a hard sell, 'wanted child' and 'ignore for weeks on end' is a hard discrepancy to look past.

He tilted his head to stare out the window. Maybe if he'd been more like Hadji, he would've been wanted. And even there, Jessie and Hadji had ditched him most of summer, and now they wanted to pretend like he wasn't getting nominated for 'most persistent third wheel'? He blew out a breathy sigh.

The sunset was beautiful. He really needed to make his run, and he sure as hell had no desire to sit through dinner with the family…

The perfect family, Hadji the smart, studious, mature oldest. Jessie, talkative, popular, loved the sciences and computers and to talk to his dad about his research… Race, man of few words or criticism, compassionate, understanding, brave—his dad, world renowned engineer and scientist, a credit to the human race, genius… and then the reject. That little bit of humility built in, him. Not a genius, not great at school, a 'jock' in his dad's eyes—some useless hobby-horse of being a muscle-bound buffoon except Jonny was lanky in build like his dad, so not even too good at that either.

He felt bad, if he'd been the one switched there would never have been a search. He laughed darkly, he felt pathetic. Hell, if there was, after meeting him they'd have packed up the jet and flown straight home.

No, he'd skip dinner and talks about how he probably failed another pop-quiz in AP Chem, because a B was a fail regardless of what the Education Board of Maine had to say about it. He picked up his cellphone, tossed that, his keys, and a small water bottle on the bed and changed into running sneakers and a reflective wrist-strap.

At least the trails near here were ideal for running. First he'd run, then he'd confirm he was alive and unkidnapped, ride his bike- then hit the showers and bed. Maybe he'd call his sister.

It felt so nice to have that distinction. He had one relationship none of the others had dibs on, or arguably wanted what with his dad's cavalier dismissal of it. He felt icy, remembering how easily his dad had 'dismissed' him after the fight too.

He had sent Race to tell him he could stay… they hadn't had so much as a word between them since. That stung. Almost as much as the slap had. Maybe he could go to a boarding school. He'd be out of his dad's way at least, plus they were full of rich kids so the teachers probably weren't star-struck and malicious.

No, his dad might ignore him and his 'little interests' but he'd never let him know that peace. Maybe prep school was an 'okay' excuse to ship him off though?

He'd have to ask Darren for a brochure… work on that diplomatic approach. "Sell it to dad… cater to his ego… make it about why he'd benefit from it." Jonny mumbled his considerations. He shook his head, he'd ride his bike first—take it to TK's, drop it off there, run, then ride back. He didn't need to chance any forced interactions.

Can't drown in a river on a bike if you're not by a river, after all. Some genius, there.

He smiled sadly at that. Like he'd just fallen in… he'd dove in to save a woman's pack because a part fell in on her first backpacking trip and she'd freaked out, entirely unsure of what to do. Ever the gentleman, he'd decided to get it for her, he knew the water would be cold but not dangerously cold yet, besides, he'd be home in no time and could get changed. A hiker? Not so much.

He unbraced his bedroom door, wrote a note and slipped it under Race's door before hurrying off.

He didn't need to talk to anyone, not anyone here at least. Before he got out of the mudroom with his bike, he gave Bandit a lot of attention, apologetic that he couldn't take the bulldog along.

"Sorry, boy. You're not built for triathlons." He smiled, faltering as he saw Hadji wave at him from his approach from the lighthouse, Jonny gave a polite wave, indicated his watch and bike then hauled ass to take off.

He really didn't need his brother digging into him too, and if Jessie AND his dad were pissed, and he was 98.9% sure they both were by now, his brother would try to mediate.

He simply didn't have the fortitude to deal with the pitying older brother consoling the immature, reckless little brother schtick.

Missed were the days where they both were on the same page—'want to go explore—' 'YES… oh sorry, you didn't finish, explore where?' 'Pirate coves.' 'Make that a hell yes…' Now it was, 'want to help dad in the lab?' 'Oh sorry, I have an elective root canal I can't miss.'

Jonny hopped onto his bike, hurried lest he get yet another lecture.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Hadji frowned after his brother indicated his inability to wait for him. He desperately wanted to speak to him, from what he had gleaned, while the weekend away had been good for his brother, the fight with their father had not.

From his father's perspective, which always tended to mute some of his own egregious behaviors- it had been a bad one. Bad enough that he felt compelled to let Jonny stay with relative strangers simply because Phil Korvin and Race could vouch for them.

He knew his brother was a sensitive soul, very gentle and in ways much more delicate than he or Dr. Quest were. The streets had steeled Hadji, academia Dr. Quest, but Jonny did not ever seem to lose that delicate, kind nature, even with the repeated horrors he'd endured.

Hadji worried, if even their dad blamed himself, how much worse had it been on Jonny?

Of course, then there was news of his sister—their sister. He had not gotten any time to speak with her, she had been in pain, startled, and understandable impatient and shocked when they had 'met.' Hadji was well aware that it behooved no man to catch a tiger by the tail. While Jessie was quick to write her off as a 'spoiled bitch,' Hadji did not perceive it that way.

He wondered if Venus too felt like he had upon learning of his mother. He also wondered greratly if she had Jonny's empathetic spirit or if she was more fire, like their father. Simply, there had not been enough time.

As his brother rushed off, it seemed to be a worrying trend. Hadji knew when Jonny got into these funks he would avoid most interpersonal interactions, binge exercise as a 'healthy' excuse, then catch dinner alone in his room.

He could easily spring a trap and ambush his little brother with food upon his return. Likely he would have to do so before he cleaned up, lest the younger would lock himself in, he wondered if Jonny realized that they all collectively knew he did that or if he thought that simply no one checked on him.

Even Race had debated, on several such occasions, whether barging in and knocking was more harm than good.

Race had been of the opinion that kids, as they grew, needed privacy and for people to respect it. Mayhaps Hadji was more mischievous, or even bratty, but he did not personally agree. He simply, usually, tried to be his better self and respect stupid decisions.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

By 10PM, Jonny was physically and emotionally spent. He'd opted to do 40 miles on the bike and on an empty tank, that had gotten particularly hard when he was taking a hilly course. He still refused to go easy on himself, instead of taking the flat trail back, he insisted on taking the rugged trail back for the last grueling 5 miles. He wreaked to high-heaven of sweat.

Cool evening or no, the wicking t-shirt smelt for his troubles. "One more thing to do now…" he mumbled as he eased the bike into the mudroom, "Shower, laundry, eat, sleep…" he listed, his taut shoulders sore from gripping the handle-bars for several climbs.

His calves were on fire, he probably could've been easier on himself after the run today, but on good news, Venus had texted him.

Apparently 'Village of the Damned' was nixed, her friends had already bought their costumes. She had told him she's going as a 'final girl' and that they also got him a Michael Myers costume, but that they were hiding all of it until Halloween for some unknown reason.

Jonny smiled to himself, "Probably because Darren's going to kill them for getting you a skimpy costume especially when it's freezing outside." Jonny hadn't told her so, but he did hint, "Maybe they think your dad wouldn't approve."

It was sweet how she defended him fiercely, how he never disapproved of imaginative costumes, but he couldn't reply. He said he was going for a bike ride and she wished him luck and, 'good speed/time = velocity.' Just the kind of geekiness he could appreciate.

He rolled his shoulders and put his bike up. As he approached his room he called Bandit, "Here boy…" The bulldog happily trotted to him, he picked up the chunker as Bandit helped clean his face. "I missed you too, buddy." He scratched his ears in appreciation of his companionship.

Jonny froze when he spotted Hadji in his room.

His brother locked eyes with him.

"If they're mad, I left a note and I had my cellphone, they could've called or texted."

"It is not that. I knew you would be late, and assumably ravenous upon your return." He gestured to the covered dish with an impish smile.

Jonny eyed his brother nervously, he hadn't expected unsolicited company, and he was clearly up to something. He wanted to change out and clean up, not deal with whatever… this was.

"Thanks, but I need to hit the shower—"

"That is fine, I will come back in 20 minutes."

"—I need to do laundry, too."

"Laundry does not grow legs and walk away. It can wait, 20 minutes." He tapped his watch and smiled.

Jonny groaned inwardly, grabbed a t-shirt, sweat shorts, and boxers before trekking to the bathroom, Bandit following him. "You could'a warned me, boy." Bandit tilted his head, clearly aware of what warning meant, but not why it was warranted. "Damn it. Well, two days was clearly overshooting my luck." He mumbled, hit the hot water on and peeled off the grime. He didn't want to speed through the shower.

The jets massaged away the aches in his calves, shoulders, neck, and back. He gave himself a luxurious 25 minute, if he was getting lectured anyway, might as well be comfy.

He cut the water, toweled off most of the water, then grabbed a towel for his sopping mop of hair. Dressed for bed, he scooped up the towel and sweat-soiled gym clothes then headed to his room, Bandit acting as his shadow.

He eyed his brother, still smiling at him. It was suspicious, what was his angle?

"That showerhead is great after a run…" Jonny offered, if they were going to verbally spar, he'd be at the ready.

"I am glad, do you feel better now that you have rode it from your system?"

"…My triathlon training? I'm not sure what you think I was riding off, Hadj."

"Are you ready to eat? You must be feeling the calorie deficit now, yes?"

'Oh must I…' Jonny ticked internally, face neutral, "Not just yet, it was a shorter ride." He smiled, lying through his teeth, he felt starved.

Hadji didn't seem to pick up on it, or at least acknowledge the fib if he did.

"Ah, well, then let us speak…" He gestured to his brother's second chair, "There is no need to stand on formalities, is there, Jonny?"

"Right, yeah—have a seat," he said to his already seated brother and sat down himself, on the edge of his bed. Not the chair Hadji signaled. "What's up, Hadj?"

"How was your weekend? I look forward to hearing about Venus. What is she like?"

Jonny blinked, taken aback, he hadn't thought he'd talk about that. "It was fine, she's really nice. Her and her dad, they invited me there for Halloween," he smiled, "Actually, she even got me a costume in case I can go." He looked down, oddly put at ease by the thought.

"That is quite considerate. What costume is it?"

"Oh, Michael Myers—they're doing a horror movie theme. Each of them will be an icon in the industry… Freddy, Jason, and Final Girl."

"Final Girl?" Hadji asked, "I do not recognize that movie franchise."

"No, it's not—that's who survives—there's usually a lone survivor, typically a girl—that's the 'final girl,' the one that can't be killed… dark, given that she was just stabbed and all, but apropos." He smiled into himself, more relaxed.

"So her friends like to joke a lot?"

Jonny shrugged, "I haven't met them yet. Sorry you didn't get a chance to talk to her much… I think you'd like her too, she's smart, but she also is really easy to talk with."

"I have never met a Quest who is not."

Jonny's face darkened, "She isn't a Quest, Hadji."

"Oh, but she most certainly is your sister… our sister."

His mood deteriorated, it had been a set-up after all. "So dad sent you in here to harp on that? Is that it? Her life suits her just fine, if she doesn't want in on our circus, I can't blame her, she isn't a Quest. She's her own person—"

"That is not how I meant that, Jonny, and our father did not 'send' me to speak to you on any such errand. For one, I would outright refuse. I want to speak with you and so I am here to speak with you." Jonny blew out a steadying breath. "Perhaps I misspoke. I mean to say I find you to be smart and easy to talk to, so I could see how Venus is too. I also find father easy to talk to and smart, though I suspect we disagree on the first trait."

He saw Jonny try to center himself, play a mental defense. Since when had his brother begun building these mannerisms? It seemed more mature, and yet oddly unsettling for him to seem so discontent.

"Ah, so that's how you meant it." His delivery had been even keel, blasé, but he had a range of depths in his eyes Hadji felt unnerved by.

"He spoke of what happened on Friday." He pushed, first he needed Jonny's defenses lowered.

"Oh? What did he say?" Jonny didn't budge. Not an inch.

"I am much more concerned with your perspective."

"Hmm, well, I met my sister and her dad, and saw Phil Korvin for the first time in a while. All in all, it was eventful."

"And what of the even with Dr. Quest?" Hadji edged.

"What event is that, Hadji?" Jonny's voice was stoic, eerily so.

"You are not internalizing this, Jonny. Please speak to me, I am your brother and I love you."

"Hadji, it's normal to have disagreements from time to time. It's not anything newsworthy."

"He told me his perspective, will you not tell me yours?"

"I will not, that is correct. You're a bit of a meddler sometimes, and I do not feel you need to mediate our disagreement."

"While I appreciate how mature you sound, I am not in a position to mediate this. I wish to support you. Father has a tendency to… how to put it gently… sugar coat his position, and what he said occurred, even when sugar-coated was quite bad."

"Good to know." Jonny said flatly, his mood rapidly souring. "Hadji, I have school tomorrow, I'm fine, tired, but fine."

"You have yet to eat." Hadji looked at him, worried, "And what is 'good to know'? That he admitted fault?"

Jonny's eyes clouded, "That he can't keep a private conversation personal, Hadji. My apologies, but I simply am not hungry, I'm tired. Very, very tired and I'd like to go to sleep. Thank you for your concern, but I can assure you, I am fine."

"I do not know why you would lie to me as such, Jonny, but when you are ready to discuss this, my door is always open to you."

Hadji saw himself out, unsure of how he'd failed so miserably on his mission.

Added insult to injury was watching Jonny take the food out of his room, straight to the kitchen, then return to grab laundry.

'He simply cannot really be without appetite. It is not possibly.' He thought in upset.

Jonny returned to his room, door locked, and laid in bed as he listened to his stomach angrily growl, he rolled to his side and closed his eyes disinterested.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

A train. He felt like he'd been hit by a train. Jonny gave his alarm clock a pleading look, it didn't change the time anyhow. He didn't suddenly have another two hours to sleep.

Thinking it over, going to school was still more ideal than even considering staying home.

Committed on that thought, he forced himself upright, teetered, and made his way to his dresser to pull out an outfit.

He slipped on a wool sweater over an undershirt, boxers, khakis, wool socks, and boots. Wallet, cellphone, keys, and wrist watch on, he lifted his book bag and opted to 'walk' in. Under the weather or no, he'd need food, and his pride equally needed privacy.

The last thing he wanted to deal with was a damn lecture, and frankly, despite what Hadji claimed his dad said, there was no guarantee inside this house that he'd avoid one.

Then again, it was also clear that he'd get one from Mr. Stevens, too. He leaned his head back into the wall, ignoring how it made the room spin. Why couldn't he just catch a break?

He wondered what cursed ancient amulet he was holding onto, then bitterly expected it was microchipped into him, instead.

With a hoverboard in hand, he made his way to town not bothering to give the others a heads up.

While on Main Street, he tucked into a bakery and grabbed four different pastries, paid in cash with a good gratuity to boot, and shot Jessie a text to let her know he left without her. "No need to water the fire with kerosene…" he mumbled, chowing through the first and second pastries in famish. "Oh carbs, how I missed you!" he continued to mumbled to himself.

Enough fuel in the tank, he continued to school, the additional calories would be needed before first bell, but as it was, he'd go talk with Mr. Stevens and hope to convince him not to screw him over for a whim of his when Jonny hadn't actually done anything wrong.

He felt his phone buzz before he got half-way to school from the bakery. Then again, and again—by the fifth he understood Jessie was pissed, all without even having to look.

With a sigh, he pulled the phone and read through the rant anyway.

"1/5 I can't believe you ditched me you little je"

"2/5 rk-face! And after I warned you about the po"

"3/5 p-quiz in Chemistry! Fine then! Don't expe"

"4/5 ct me to give you another hint. You meet 1 per"

"5/5 son and suddenly act like a complete putz!"

He powered off his phone. He wondered if he was too old to be adopted, or too young to be emancipated, to hedge his bets. He reached school 30 minutes before first bell.

Steeling himself, he headed to the teachers' lounge.

"Excuse me, is Mr. Stevens in for the day?" He asked Mrs. Hanes, one of the art teachers he actually wanted to take a class under.

"He is, was he expecting you?"

"Not yet, but I came in early so I could find out what he needed."

"Andrew, one of your students is here—"

"Oh? Who?"

"Jonny Quest, sir." He introduced.

"John! Come on back to my office." He waved him over.

Jonny gnashed his teeth. Diplomacy. He needed to act with decorum, and not the boorish manners his father thought he had.

Inside the small office, Jonny locked eyes with Mr. Stevens. "About yesterday…" Jonny framed, "You asked me to come in to talk about something?"

"Ah, yes. About your presentation…"

He refused to let his shoulders slump.

"Is two weeks enough time or would you rather three?"

"Sir, I don't have a presentation. I thought I was clear that I'm not confident in giving one for the class."

"Oh, that non-sense attitude again, John, you need to build up your own confidence. You're smart enough to figure it out with the readings, stop being modest. Plus, it's your dad's paper, I'm fairly sure he'd give you pointers."

Jonny held his tongue, gave a strained, ugly smile, "Mr. Stevens, you gave us a syllabus. In it, there was NO mention of giving a lecture—group or individual. I am not comfortable with that assignment and I do not wish to do it."

"How can you be uncomfortable? John, you're a likeable guy, I bet public speaking is something you'd excel at—"

"Mr. Stevens, my name is Jonny. Jonny Quest, not Benton Quest, Jonny Quest—I'm not the savant Quest. You can't just assign me a name or ask me to do a presentation for an unknown impact on my grade that no one else has to do, and I do not feel comfortable presenting. The class already blames me personally every time you make our quizzes harder. I don't want to present, I don't to interrupt my dad's works. I'm a B-student in your class, I've never taken Chemistry but you want me to discuss a post-doctorate paper?!"

He watched his teacher cross his arms and shoot up an eyebrow, "John—"

Jonny rang his hands at his sides.

"—It's a college-level class, you're not going to be an immature kid forever. It's a childish nickname."

"My mother called me Jonny, I will always go by that."

His teacher tsked, looked at him perplexed, "And when you grow up she'll just get used to calling you John."

"You ass… No, she won't! Dead people don't suddenly speak to you and call you different names." His jaw hit his chest, "…You know what… no. Dad's going to ground me for the rest of the year, I can deal with that. I'm dropping your class." He turned on his heels to leave, he felt a hand curl around his wrist grabbing him.

Jonny flicked his wrist free of the grip, a shocked look on his face for the wear.

"Wait—John!"

"Don't touch me." Jonny rushed out of the office, body shaking in anger and adrenalin.

Mr. Stevens called out as he followed in fast steps, "John, you can't drop my class. I'll call your father—you have to have parental approval to do that—you're under 16."

Jonny glared at the man.

"Besides, you can't waste your gifts! As you said, with no previous exposure to chemistry, at a collegiate level you have a solid B. You're a chip off the old block!" He smiled, paternally adding, "Now, I've heard rumors of the temper, but the swearing is a bit excessive—combative even. That aside, if I don't challenge you, John, I'm doing you a personal disservice."

He powered on his cellphone, hit speed-dial #2— #1 was Race's emergency line.

"Jonny? Why are you on your phone at school—" His dad started in, Jonny wasn't even surprised.

"I'm dropping AP Chemistry. The teacher told me I need your permission, he also thinks he can pick my name, add projects to only me, ostracize me in class by making pop-quizzes harder for any class I sit in because I'm a Quest, and oh, this one's no big deal or anything but he laid hands on me. I'm dropping it. I'm also now going to leave school for the day, dad. Any comment—you're on speaker."

"He what?!" Dr. Quest fumed, "Don't. I'll be there in 15 minutes."

The teacher crossed his arms as the phone disconnected.

"I have no problem speaking to irate parents fed one-sided narratives, John."

Jonny smiled, eyes not raising from the ground, "Yeah, good luck on that one." He picked up his bag and headed to the cafeteria, he pulled the breakfast pastry #3 from his bag and shoveled it down.

His stomach hurt. His head hurt. Hell, his whole being stung. He rested his forehead on the table, that asshole took the cake. "Your mom'll call you…" he seethed, "What kind of jerk says that to a kid who's mom died?!" He tossed pastry #4 into the waste bin and walked to the bathroom, sick to his stomach.

By time he puked up one through three, he heard the overhead page for him—or more precisely for John Quest, whoever the fuck that was, to head to the principal's office.

For good measure, he added some bile to the rest of the container of stomach contents and flushed twice.

He rinsed his mouth with tap water and pulled a stick of gum. After a few good chews, he spat it out and rinsed again, then picked up his gear to await his dad's arrival, and ire.

As he walked in the first bell rang. Students were let off the buses to head to class.

He could hear the character assassination through the cracked door, "A complete narcissist—each quiz of the day gets harder! Kids talk about what's on it…"

"…Tried to empower him, swears me out…"

"…Fabricated things, told his father lies…"

Jonny sat down. Nice. He was going to get suspended for this. As least it'd give his dad time to bury him.

"Jonny?" His dad locked eyes on him. He looked warily at his father, their first shared sighting since Friday, and frankly he wasn't ready to even see him yet. Now he was guaranteed another blow-out. He lowered his eyes, waiting.

"Son, tell me exactly what happened."

Jonny undid his watch and tossed it to his dad. "You know it records, feel free to listen to it." The misery apparent, there went Halloween—and anything else for that matter.

Benton pocketed the watch. "What's this about him grabbing you." He said firmly.

"I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist to stop it, I pulled my hand free just like Race taught how by turning in my thumb with a tug—" He thought for a moment, "My left hand."

Benton let out a long breath, trying to calm himself. "What's this about your name?"

"He refuses to call my Jonny, says it's juvenile—immature, that it's a college level class so I basically need to grow up. I told him I go by what my mom called me and he's of the opinion she'll just grow into calling me John." He gave an enraged smile, "I told him in some choice words how unlikely that is with her being deceased and all, and he proceeded to still call my John." There was no irony lost on him that he was conveying to his father, who'd just put hands on him, himself, about the guy not listening to him or respecting his autonomy. With how his life was going, they'd probably be fast friends.

Benton nodded, "Right. You stay out here, I'll go in and have a discussion with them."

"Sure, just tell me how long I'm suspended and grounded for, thanks." He said, greatly annoyed and even more unnerved.

Dr. Quest knocked assertively on the door. "Dr. Quest? Come in. Jonathon—"

"—Is perfectly fine waiting outside while we discuss this matter." He closed the door with a click.

The door didn't do much, Jonny knew his dad's voice carried, first hand, when he was livid.

After all, Hadji had to hear their arguments somehow. Jonny pressed his hands into his ears trying to drown out his own near future as the argument continued. He was so dead when they get home.

Good call in not making him a final-girl, he'd never make it that far. In his own reverie, ears blocked, he didn't hear the door open or see Mr. Stevens glare daggers at him as he walked off in a fury. He felt the back of a hand tap his triceps then unmuffled his ears.

His dad was looking at him with concern. Polite, bullshit concern.

"Well warden?" He asked flatly.

"Zero, zero, and you've successfully been un-enrolled from AP Chemistry." Jonny scowled at his dad in disbelief. "You're not off the hook, eighth period had a slot for AP Art Theory and you're now a month behind."

"…What?" He gaped.

"With Mrs. Hanes, there's been several assignments already, so you'll have to make them up."

Jonny checked his own temperature. He had to be delusional… this couldn't be…

"Principal Raltz agrees that while today will not be counted against your record as a suspension or an unexcused absence, that it's best for you to come home for the day."

"…Because Mr. Stevens grabbed me?"

"And that they think it's best for your wellbeing and his that I take you home."

"…But I'm not suspended… or grounded?"

"Correct."

Jonny slowly stood up, picked up his book bag, "Did he get fired or just a written warning?"

"Verbal warning, there were no witnesses and it was innocuous, not a malicious intent." Benton fumed, then added, "Or at least that's their understanding of it."

The blond teen looked at his father again, still not believing him. Was he just waiting to get him home and tear into him where there were also no witnesses? That made far more sense.

"Come on, I'll drive you home."

Jonny smiled amiably, expecting the fury once they were alone in the car. He wondered if he'd even get slapped again, though technically if he did it would be his own damn fault for calling in his dad… He stiffened when his dad touched his shoulder.

Reflexively, he forced his body to relax. Bristling wouldn't get him out of anything, but it would probably set his dad off.

The hand didn't lift, it felt gentle, even… like how it had felt years and years ago, the companionable constance.

Dr. Quest opened the passenger door for Jonny, only then removing his hand.

'Right—it was so I didn't just run for the woods.' Jonny thought to himself. He again braced for the tirade to start once his dad got in the Land Rover and buckled in.

Without a word, he drove off the school premise.

By the first red light, Jonny was markedly uncomfortable.

"…Well?"

"Well what, son?"

Jonny eyed him suspiciously. "Okay, are you not my dad? Or maybe from another dimension?"

Benton rolled his eyes, "No, it's me."

"Then why aren't you acting like you?"

His father looked out at the light, "And what's that like?"

Jonny kept looking at his dad and for witnesses, he went quiet, self-preservation one of his stronger points. Benton let the air hang heavy, not offering his own opinion or interjections.

"Why are you being so quiet? You're never this quiet—you're not the type to be quietly mad or disappointed…"

"I'm not mad or disappointed, son."

"Why do you keep calling me son instead of my name? You're acting really, really weird."

Benton let out a light sigh and smiled, "I'm being quiet because I want to hear what you have to say."

"In my defense?"

"No, you have nothing to defend about that."

Jonny eyed his dad, concerned. Deeply concerned, if it's indefensible he was really hosed. He sank back into his chair. Or was he just so done with him he was going to write him off completely? What was his tact?

"…I get it." He said quietly to himself, though in the silent car, his dad could hear him, "You're guilting me now, it's really my fault we that fight—so now you're expecting me to apologize… and then you'll act normal again…"

"No, Jonny, that's not how I feel at all about Friday, but I want to hear how you feel and not have my input sway that." He pulled into the main gate. "But I won't push you to tell me until you're ready to."

Jonny looked around the compound, Race wasn't anywhere visible, neither was Hadji.

"…I don't get it. Of course you're still mad at me, now even more because yet again I can't even do the simplest of things to keep you happy like take AP Chemistry…"

Benton turned off the engine and turned to face him, waited.

"—I'm just your flub kid, the humbling proof that genetics is quite fallible, but at least the other one seems to be on target… not like she cares, but what, she'll come around? Once she gets over the shock of it all, or something…" He looked down at his own lap, his knuckles were white as he balled his fists, "And of course I'm the goof, the dumb one, with all the stupid interests and that I'm not even good at the things I do like…" he brought his hands to his face trying desperately not to cave, not to get emotional, "No wonder everything I like is so lame to you. I'm just a crappy jock to you—and I'm not even particularly athletic… and the one think I really like—you're right, it's a stupid, stupid joke to think I'd ever be good enough at it… I'm never good enough at anything… I'm never the best at anything, even in as small of a sample size as a family of five… the only things I excel at are getting shot at and not actually getting shot…" His voice hitched. "Maybe if mom'd known that she would've run faster…"

"Jonny, that's entirely unfair." His father rebuked gently. He flinched at the contact of his dad's hand on his cheek as it cupped his face. "Rachel—your mom loved you so much, it wasn't an option to chance your safety."

Jonny refused to let his face be coaxed upward, still expecting the blow at any moment, but really, he was taking enough blows just talking about himself it would almost be redundant.

"…Well she made a mistake. I wish I were dead."

Dr. Quest goldfished at that. With a strong tug, he pulled Jonny into a tight hug. "Well I sure as hell don't!" He said fiercely, he felt the teen's body recoil he'd earned that with his own damnable temper.

"Congrats on your second mistake." Jonny said dryly, trying to pull back, "First being having me."

"You are not a mistake. Your mom and I wanted you so desperately, we both love you—you lit up our worlds when you were born…"

"Let go." Jonny again tried to get out of the tight hold, "I'm just useless—"

"—You're my precious son that I've failed countlessly. I am a selfish man, I let my own hubris mask the damage of my own actions and inactions, and somewhere you started paying the collateral for my own inability to listen to something other than what I expect to hear."

"…Let go…"

He did, begrudgingly.

Jonny threw open the car door, clumsily trying to undo his seatbelt, his eyes stung with tears.

Benton removed his own seatbelt and went around the car by time Jonny managed to untangle himself. "That it took another person, an adult not in my echo-chamber to show me how much of a hypocrite I'd been, Jonny…"

Jonny, out of the car, sat down hard on the ground. His own legs shaking as he vented all the frustrations he'd been holding in, all his own fears and perceptions.

"That I demanded an apology because you liked how they listened and respected each other? I'm appalled at my own behavior—and that I struck you, my most precious child sickens me. I'm ashamed of myself. And I'm so grateful he stepped in when he had—I only wish he'd gotten there sooner."

He kneeled next to his son, the teen was sobbing, never an easy sight.

"I look at you and I see a resilient, resourceful, funny, loving, smart, compassionate young man who makes both of his parents so, so proud, and that you don't know that grieves me."

"I don't make you proud—I'm a good for nothing trouble-maker…"

"You are not a good-for-nothing. You are a trouble-maker, but not by any means delinquent, you've used that skill to get out of oh so many bad situations I actually find it admirable, though also a source of many of my own grey hairs."

He sniffled back, "…Really?"

"Absolutely." Jonny returned his view to the blurry driveway. "For all my public speaking skills, I wish I had even half of your ability to relate to others. You're such a warm person, and we all see that, son, you're the easiest person to talk to about anything emotive in this house, and it does you the disservice of not having anyone that skilled there for you."

Jonny lifted his head to look at his dad.

"And I was unequivocally wrong in what I said to you on Friday. I was an utmost heel. I can't take back those horrid things I said, but I was wrong. I spoke and acted out of anger and frustration, it was inexcusable and I hurt you when all you were doing was being open, honest, and trying to help me. It was unforgivable." Jonny swallowed hard. "I can't begin to apologize for how horribly I acted, but I can work on my actions so you never feel that small again. Will you help me do that?"

"H… how?"

"Help me to communicate with you—and not just by talking about my needs and interests—let's schedule a day every week where at a minimum of 2 hours we do something you want, talk about what you want to talk about—or even a whole day, if your training can allow it."

Jonny frowned, he didn't believe him. It had to be a trap… a trick, a steer, or as Hadji would say sleight of hand.

"As today's free, we could start now."

The blond gawked, it had to be a trap, or his dad was on that yo-yo cycle of guilt he got on occasionally.

Benton read the look on his son's face, "Or is it too much, today? You clearly haven't had time to decompress, and I said some truly reprehensible things to you. It's no wonder you hid your interests so thoroughly until now."

With a shiver, he forced himself to stand up. He didn't trust his own voice, let alone his dad's words. He tried to dry his face and salvage some pride. How the ground felt so uneven he assumed correlated with how vacuous his stomach felt, sitting empty for far too long, it released a bellowing gurgle.

"Did you have enough breakfast?"

Jonny shook his head, in a small voice stated, "No… I got sick after what he'd said… I couldn't keep it down."

"Then would you like to grab some? We could go into town or stay here."

The outright suspicious glare he aimed at his dad, which he knew was none-too-subtle, went unacknowledged by his dad. Jonny saw Hadji coming down the driveway, the sudden pressure of a double-team made him internally recoil.

"Oh, Jonny, you came back home? Are you not feeling well?"

Hadji subtly positioned himself between his brother and his father, he really was a meddler.

"…Not particularly." He shuffled toward the house.

"Perhaps you overdid your evening bicycle ride last night?" Hadji attempted civilly.

Not willing to give his brother any additional ammo, he shook his head. "No, it was a shorter ride." He gave the same bullshit answer last night, too.

"How far did you go? You were gone for 6 hours." Hadji provided.

"Not far. It was hilly riding." He eyed them both uncomfortably.

"Were you training for the triathlon?" Dr. Quest coaxed.

Out of sheer willpower Jonny managed to not roll his eyes, but he was done. He felt his legs trembling, "…" he steeled himself, there was a Winston Churchill quote about the trick about getting through hell. With a push to distance himself from this emotional train-wreck of a morning, he locked eyes with Hadji and then his dad and said in a diplomatic voice, "I usually do after I finish my school work."

"How many miles did you ride?" Hadji tried again, "You had said you were not hungry—did you make yourself sick by not replenishing?"

Continuing the course he'd set upon, he evaded, "I was more tired is all." What he was really tired of was being nagged and hounded by his family, he was annoyed at all the negative attention pushing into him.

Dr. Quest seemed to pick up on Jonny's impatience, even though he was masking it in icy diplomacy. "Hadji, could you ask Mrs. Evans to make up a breakfast plate for Jonny? We were discussing something."

"It did not look as if you were, father." Hadji said in a mildly defiant manner.

"And yet, we were Hadji. Could you please ask her?"

He looked between Dr. Quest and Jonny, his brother seemed to be in some sort of shell-shock.

After a moment, Jonny let out a soft, "I'm fine Hadji—it was only 40 miles, I've gone farther."

"40 miles? I thought triathlons were much shorter." Dr. Quest asked in disbelief, it was impressive.

"They are, but the terrain and the 'sprints' to be competitive—well, you have to over-train. That, and I want to work up to a half-ironman."

"Half Ironman?"

God, why wouldn't this just stop? He cleared his throat, "The full-track is 70.3 miles for the half. The ironman is 140.6 miles." Of course they wouldn't know a thing about the sport, "I'm in an Olympic Triathlon again, that's about 1 mile swim, a 6 mile run, and 25 miles on the bike. As you noted before, I was at the end of the pack and I'd like to get to the middle or front by year-end. Then I can work to qualify for the half Ironman, you can't just sign up for those."

Hadji let out a small breath to indicate he'd let Mrs. Evans know about the request, he gracefully ducked out.

"How often do you ride 40 miles?" He asked to keep the momentum.

"I dunno." Jonny lied, he went riding 3 days a week, "I do springs at least once a week, that's endurance work though."

"Sprints as in running?"

"…No, I run too, but I mean on the bike. I ride at least ten miles so I'm tired and then I try to beat my best mile, I do that for about 5 miles, and then I have to ride back the rest, or I do strength training or tough terrain. If I'm practicing running sprints, I hit the beach."

"Why there?"

Jonny laughed depreciably, "Because running as fast as you can on sand is miserable. If you can make good time there, once you're on good terrain it feels easy."

Benton wasn't sure he understood how any of this was enjoyable. "Are you improving your times?"

Jonny nodded, "Gradually. It's hard, but that's what makes it an accomplishment. Not everyone can do it."

"That certainly is true, and even less teenagers can."

He shrugged, unwilling to take the compliment from his dad. He shivered again, it felt so cold today.

"Let's head in for a while, today has been chilly," his dad noted. Inside the threshold of the mantle, a wave of cinnamon crashed into him.

"Mrs. Evans made oatmeal for you, Jonny." Hadji informed.

"Oh, thanks…" he said back to Hadji. He headed to the dining room where their housekeeper rushed to dote on him.

"Oh there you are, I heard you were feeling under the weather…" Jonny glanced at his brother, low-key pissed at the gossip. "The boys called to say you left school early—right before first period."

"Thanks Mrs. Evans, I'll be better with some rest I think…" he mumbled in a show of civility. He wondered if that would take him out of this episode of the Twilight Zone.

His eyes drifted to the wall clock, wondered if he could catch Venus on the phone, heck, even Darren.

As Race walked in, Jonny diverted his attention. He needed to cut out, this hot-cold change of being chopped liver to everyone suddenly feeling compelled to check up on him was getting to be overwhelming.

Race gave a casual, "Good morning," poured himself a cup of coffee and headed out the room as he passed him.

Jonny's shoulders lost some tension at it now being 3 for 4 instead of a larger party. He polished off a huge portion of oatmeal, stood gingerly to excuse himself—still deeply unnerved at his dad's hovering. "If you don't mind, I'd like to just get some sleep for a while…" he said politely.

"Sure," Dr. Quest added quickly, "At lunch, we can take a look, see if there's—"

"I'm not really up for that right now." He said without room to finagle. "I get it, you're sorry. But I don't get you acting weird, and I know you'll drop the act in a few days anyway, so if it's all the same to you, I'd rather you just go back to normal."

"Normal isn't working," Benton said evenly, "you're unhappy, and I'm raising a stranger, so it isn't the same to me."

Jonny flinched, both Dr. Quest and Race caught that loud and clear.

"We can take it slower, that's alright. But there will be changes, I promise it will be for the better—"

"Yeah, right." Jonny brushed off the dishonest comment, "Like always." Tiredly, he picked up his bowl and shuffled to the kitchen.

Race shot Benton a look, not saying a word until he head the kid on the stairs.

"So, you rushed?"

"Let it never be said I'm not eager." Benton said deflated.

"Did he work himself sick?" Race asked near rhetorically.

"He's already stressed himself there, then he took a 40 mile bike ride last night, didn't eat, and then got into a row with the AP Chemistry teacher who wanted to make him my understudy as well."

"Benton, he looks depressed, and I don't mean sad, I mean depressed."

"I concur." He pinched his brows at the bridge of his nose, "He told me he wished he were dead. And the triathlon training sounds more masochistic than pleasurable…"

"Yeah, well—it's probably a mixed bag on that. He's driving for results, and probably taking out his frustrations on his own body in a way he can control, but I've never seen signs of self-harm on him and believe me, I watch for it with all the trauma he's been through."

"Why self-harm when your dad'll do it for you." Benton said in frustration.

Race poured him a cup of coffee, "He does need space, and to be the one to approach. Just give him those chances."

"I switched him into an art class from AP Chemistry, his teacher was an absolute buffoon."

"Yeah…?"

"Yes. He didn't even read his student profile—he was patronizing him, calling him John, he didn't even know he'd lost his mother and talked to me about how I should tell her to stop coddling him."

Race let out a long whistle, "And yet, I'm not paying out a bail-bond, so that breathing exercise worked I take it?"

"Not flawlessly; however, it made me feel even worse, I recognize the outside world forces him into my shadow, but then I do it to him too. Remind me that he has the patience of Sisyphus if I ever try to call him elsewise."

Race nodded, took a sip of his own refreshed cup of coffee. "Of which, we need to chat with the kids about giving him his space. I know it seems counter-intuitive, that he's felt ignored and excluded, but if it goes into smothering it won't feel authentic. We'll need to keep it to 1 on 1 for most things, maybe the kids can do 2 on 1 sometimes, but overwhelming him with changes, especially in light to the one change he's excited about? It could drive him into himself."

"Except that, as you also pointed out, it's obvious he has depression."

Race nodded, "I could reach out to Phil about finding a counselor, around here, it'll just be more the same—you'd be hero-worshipped and he'd feel overshadowed."

"Does his brother have a psych degree? That's a person he'd feel would take his side."

Race shrugged, "One heckuva devil's wager, Benton. I'd also like to take a crack at it, I may ask to accompany him on his training."

"That sounds like a great idea, if he'll accept."

"I'm not fond hearing he's doing bike sprints on 20 miles. That wears down a body."

"He's also sprinting on beached and riding rough terrain…"

"He's not wrong about that, but all of it together is overexertion as a form of internal corporal punishment. That's got earmarks of self-harm."

Benton nodded glumly. "He has this down to a science, this has been going on for a while, hasn't it?"

Race grimaced a nod, "Looks like it."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Jonny hit the lights as he pulled his pajamas and changed into sleepwear.

He really did wonder if he'd fallen through the mirror, or somehow stepped out of Kansas. Was it possible? Did that slap, that whole argument, shift him to an alternate reality? Ugh, theoretical astrophysics wasn't even his bag. He ached.

Silently, Jonny wondered how he lucked into Mrs. Hanes' class? His dad didn't realize he really had wanted to take that, did he?

…No, no he had wrote that out for his class schedule before his dad forced him into taking AP Chem, the only free slots for each were 8th period. At least that made sense. His stomach ached.

"…Please just keep it down…" he pleaded to his own organs. Lying in bed, he felt gnawed by anxiety.

That sense of self and sense of others—ego v. super-ego, it was such a constant attack on his own identity and he hated himself when he folded and then had to carve out another path only for it to also be a disappointment. How often could that really happen before the stark reality set in that he is simply the disappointment, anyway? This trend had been going on for years now.

He suspected the grounding would come once he caught up in art class and got his report card, then his dad would be back in normal mode and then this whole identity versus ideal would come back full swing and really catch up with him.

He hated that he wasn't enough to please his dad, but at least he had the others—the worthy substitutes. Rolling onto his stomach, he curled into his pillow trying desperately to shut down these thoughts and just sleep, at least by 3 he could call someone, a true neutral—hell, maybe a true ally to his hopes and ambitions.

He'd only ever clicked so instantly with Hadji, Venus really was his sister… yet oddly, he didn't feel required to share—she wasn't Hadji's sister. She wasn't Jessie's friend, either.

Smiling, he closed his eyes, in sense it was like his mom was somehow restored, or at least that kind of blood connection, shit, it's not like he had that with his dad. God, how was he so fucked up?

Cuddling into the pillow in fetal position, he realized acutely just how lonely he'd been since April now. "Bandit…? Here boy." He muffled, his dog obliged.

With his dog lying plumply over the back of his legs, he fell inro a shallow sleep.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Hours into the day, Dr. Quest looked over journals in his study, he made the conscious effort to keep to a neutral territory even as he pursued his own goals.

"Race, it's about lunch time, would you wake him up? Maybe he'd be receptive to talk with you?"

Race gave him a half-smile, "The trick isn't to push. It's to be open to being pushed." He rose, "But I'll wake him up, what's on the menu."

"I asked Mrs. Evans to make a pot pie."

He nodded, "Alright, I'm going in."

Benton laughed at the agent humor. "If you need extraction, I'm sorry to say you're on your own."

Race winked, "It'll be okay. Just remember—don't push, let him steer."

"I'll most certainly try."

As the white-haired man went to the teen's door, he gave a firm knock. "Jonny, lunch is ready kiddo. Time to wake up, are you decent?"

Jonny rolled in his bed, "Hmmm…?"

Race knocked again. "I'm coming in, is that alright?"

He cracked his eyes open, "Huh? Race?"

"Yeah, it's me. May I come in?"

Groggily, he sat up, "I guess." He pulled his t-shirt down from his midriff back to his hip, it had rode up his side as he slept.

As he got up, he remade his bed, his bodyguard entered the room.

He wished there was such a thing as a psycheguard, someone diving in front of pot-shots about their hopes and fears. He looked at Race, eyes still encrusted with sleep-sand. "Something wrong?" He asked as he rubbed away the last traces of his restorative nap.

"Lunch is ready, you hungry?" He asked, listening to but not engaging with his question. A vacuum was a better extraction than a challenge.

Jonny shrugged, "Not really, my stomach's kinda wonky. At least that fits in with Bizarro world here."

"I can see how it can feel like that. What's the strangest part?"

Rolled eyes gave him a feedback that he was pushing his luck. "…At least you're acting mostly normal. Though, why it's like you're walking on eggshells, I dunno…" he shook his head.

"Huh, I didn't think I was kiddo. I do try to respect your boundaries, you know."

He nodded, "Yeah, you do…" He mumbled, "wish the others could borrow a page from that…"

"How did someone overstep your boundaries?" He asked with precision. There were several answers that came to his mind, if Jonny'd tell him he'd at least have an in-road.

Blond hair moved with his shrug, "Same old, same old. At least my door has a lock." He stretched gingerly. "Then again, it also has an easily accessible key…" He referenced how IRIS could override the lock by voice command of any family member.

"Well, that's for safety reasons, you never know what could happen under a siege."

"Privacy is overrated, right?" He scoffed, "At least everyone would get a five minute warning."

Race understood the gallows humor, though the implications weren't great. Of late, Jonny had been spending most of his time alone, lonely, so he'd be targeted first, that's what he was saying between the lines.

"Kiddo, I've gotta ask pointblank, I'm worried about you. How long have you been feeling excluded?"

Jonny looked at him in disoriented shock, as if he'd momentarily become visible, he looked down, "A… while, I guess."

"And how long have you been feeling lonely and unable to talk to me about it?"

His lips trembled, eyes welling, he whispered, "…Probably since Jessie came to stay…" it felt like such an awful sentiment, Jessie was one of his best friends, but gaining that was at the cost to another close relation—he and Race had put a whole level in between them in that move.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. "You can always come talk to me, kiddo. You know that, right?"

He shook his head mutely, in a low whisper corrected him, "No, I can't. Everyone's always so busy, then it's just me and Bandit…"

"I mean it, Jonny. I could you as one of my closest friends, you can always come by to talk. Sure, if I'm in the middle of something I'd have to wrap it up, but you matter to me."

"…Really?"

"Yes, really. I know with Ponchita it shifted our dynamic a bit, but not how I feel toward you."

"Race, that doesn't feel true, though." His voice pitched to a higher tone in his whisper, "I feel left behind all the time now… no one cares—I mean, they do care, but not about me the individual, but me as part of the collective—like I'm intellectual property instead of a person…"

Race pulled him into a bear hug.

"Kid, if anything happened to you, I'd feel gutted, and I can promise you, everyone here would too. What you're going through—finding yourself—that's normal. It's normal to have different interests and pursuits, it's good to explore your options. Yes, we've all been stretched thin about 'outside' topics, but we've also been downright myopic to your needs and that's been incredibly unfair."

He released Jonny from the hug, the boy was trembling something terrible.

"You aren't sensitive because you've felt excluded, you were excluded. Not intentionally, of course, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that we find a way that you aren't excluded and you don't feel lonely or depressed or anxious."

His eyes shot wide at the last two bullets as he watched the floor.

"H-how did you know I've been depressed and anxious?"

"Believe it or not, I do watch you, and I notice when you're not your plucky self. You're a happy-go-lucky type, not to say you're brooding, but you've been downtrodden for a while now."

"I didn't tell anyone I've been having anxiety."

"That's why your stomach's really upset, isn't it?"

He nodded, still refusing to lock eyes.

"Is that why you've been hurting yourself?"

Jonny's head shot up to shoot Race with a glare. "I'm doing no such thing!"

Race softened, "Maybe not consciously, but you're training yourself very differently than when I was helping you train. It's escapism, Jonny. You're over-exercising to get the endorphin high and then you're crashing. That's not going to build your strength, you know that."

Silently, Race waited for Jonny's reply. There was a strong chance he'd be asked to politely get the fuck out of his room.

This arms wrapped around his own waist as Jonny looked down, "I'm not hurting myself, I'd never be so weak-willed as to do that. I'm training up so I can eventually do the half Ironman. Now even you don't get it…" He shook his head, walked out of his room toward the dining room, "So it's a gilded cage, huh? And this week you want to gawk and notice the canary you have shoved in it? Fine. You'll get bored soon enough, then it'll be normal again and you'll go back to forgetting I exist until there's a doomsday cult or a monster or a kidnapping attempt or whatever. Fine, I'll play along but just let me keep my word to my sister and visit for Halloween and I'll cooperate with this farce."

"We all want you to get to know her, too, and this is not a farce. Let us make it up to you about our own short sightedness and learn a better rhythm that includes you and your interests."

He fixed his tone to only sound mildly sarcastic instead of scathing, "Of course you will. Because everyone says so…" He sat at the table and waited for Hadji and his dad to round out the table, he saw Race exit the room. Maybe he was meant to take lunch alone? Fuck, he couldn't keep up with their mind-games.

After five minutes, Hadji came in and sat cattycorner to his brother.

"Are you feeling more rested, Jonny?"

Jonny took a calming breath, it's the Stepfords, that's the bizarre world he fell into.

"Why yes, thank you. I feel a bit better but still a bit queasy. I hope I didn't pick up a stomach bug." He said in dripping diplomacy, maybe if he played the roll he'd cope with their farce better. Think of it like a posting, be polite, be civil, be charming—and stick to half-truths. No giving it away for free—it's always a negotiation.

He smiled in a gentile way as he fidgeted with his silverware to line them for a more formal table-setting. He clasped his hands in his lap to wait.

"I am sorry you feel unwell. Would you like to play a game to pass the time? Cards perhaps? Or Questworld if you would rather?"

Focusing on breathing normally, he pushed down his frustrations, as he often did, "Oh, you fancy a game of cards? Could I sway you to play chess instead? Would that do?"

He'd crush him. He'd do it slow, but in chess, he'd destroy his brother. He smiled politely, face mute of his true annoyance.

"That would be wonderful, let us do so after lunch."

"Alright, I'm looking forward to it."

Hadji studied his brother's calm demeanor, his front. Though he looked perfectly calm and civil, the tension he carried in his body made Hadji wonder if he was having a panic attack and was actively trying to hide it from them.

"Are dad and Race planning to join us? The table is set for four."

"Ah, yes, Race needed to speak with father about something pressing, they should return shortly. Shall we wait?"

"But of course, it'd the polite thing to do." He gave a lackluster smile that didn't hit his eyes.

"…You are acting very odd, Jonny. Are you sure you are alright?"

"Am I?" He diverted.

Race and Dr. Quest came into the room, Dr. Quest looked pale as his eyes raked over Jonny from behind him. The teen looked perfectly composed, and absolutely not like he was an anxious mess, but that was the kicker. His son never acted that civilly, and his knuckles were white from squeezing his hands so hard.

He sat down next to Jonny.

"Pardon me."

Race took the other position next to Hadji. "Mrs. Evans made a chicken pot pie," Race informed, slicing into the pie tin. As he plated the second slice, Hadji handed the first toward Jonny.

Jonny handed it to his father, not eager for such a large portion.

"Thank you," he replied in kind.

Race made a smaller slice, "Not very hungry, Jonny?"

"No, sir." He said in a polite chill.

Race put the half-slice on a plate and handed it directly to him then continued to carve out two normal sized portions for Hadji and himself.

"I can't remember the last time just we fellows sat down for lunch at the house." Race offered cordially.

Jonny tapped the silverware to align it with the dish, not particularly enthralled by the topic.

Benton took the hint, "It has been a while, a few months at least."

Hadji lifted his silverware to make the first cut into his lunch. The others followed suit, though Jonny doddled.

Working at half their speed, he'd managed to pace them up until Hadji and Race went for seconds.

He slowly sipped on his water, desperate to unrile his stomach. "…Well, you have been busy with work lately, certainly." Jonny replied indifferently.

Benton was well aware that the indifferent tone was not an indifferent feeling, he'd made that mistake before. "We've all been quite busy, how have classes been going?"

He watched his son's jaw tightly lock as he forced a smiled. "I'd say eventfully." He set his glass down, maneuvered his napkin.

He wasn't making eye contact, at most, he was watching the others' mouths to appear as if he were being attentive.

"I know you missed the field trip last week, but is there a project affiliated with it?"

Jonny slowly glanced toward his jaw now, then back to his plate setting. "Yes, it's a group project. TK, Bobby, and Matt are in my group. We've already drafted up the key points and divided up the work."

"Oh? What is the project on, specifically?"

Jonny's painfully thin smile read loudly just how excited he was that he hadn't even read the trip waiver to know it was for a Wicked paper.

"On the play." He said in an animated mimicry of contentment. He looked back at his dad's jawline, "They went to see Wicked. The themes were open, so I suggested a comparison of how the motivations shift by adding the narrative of Wicked to the Wizard of Oz canon as Mr. McGregor suggests is relevant."

He turned back to his setting and took up more water, sucking down the drink, he felt his stomach vault on him violently. His eyes coasted over the others' dishes as they slowed.

"And your project? How is that going?" he asked in a banal tone of civil discourse. His eyes drifted back over his father's mouth.

"Oh, same old, same old." His father replied, clearly not willing to derail the topic to his own interests. "What are you tasked with for your paper?" He redirected.

"Galinda the Good, and precisely why she maintained decorum with the Wicked Witch of the West even though in Dorothy's perspective, she was evil."

"Ah, the class good v. evil theme turned, that sounds very advanced. And the others? Which characters are they tasked with?"

Jonny closed his eyes as his stomach continued to constrict in severe discomfort. He opened his eyes with a snap, diplomats worked through this shit.

"The political climate of the Emerald City then and in the Wizard of Oz in TK's piece, Matt is focusing on the Wicked Witch of the West, and Bobby on the religious cimate and how they all interconnect will be the conclusion, which we'll work on together. We each have a ten-page docket, and then the tying theme will be a group report in class."

"Public speaking?" Dr. Quest noted, he wondered if he should let his drop before his son fractured a tooth.

"Why yes. Luckily, we've successfully navigated away from performance art." Jonny cast his eyes slowly to Race and Hadji to assess just how much longer this would go. "Hadji, what have you been working on?" He tried to change the subject off of himself.

"This and that." Hadji said in similar suit to Dr. Quest's earlier shrug.

Jonny caught Race toe Hadji for excessive deflection, he pretended his didn't notice, "How's your mom?" He smiled, tried another track.

"Quite well, she is working with several foreign aid groups to improve maternal survival rates in rural areas of our province."

"That's wonderful, Hadji." Benton smiled, "If she has any additional needs that the charities can't complete, please tell her that we'd be happy to work in those spaces through the Quest Enterprises."

"Thank you, Dr. Quest." Hadji smiled politely, and genuinely happy.

Jonny clutched his fists, exhausted, a cold sweat on the back of his neck.

"You look a little pale, do you need a moment?" Race asked the youngest.

"If I may be excused…" he said, he counted how many steps and sprinting steps between the bathroom, near certain his earlier issue would return.

"You're excused." Benton acknowledged, eyed Race then Jonny.

The blond pushed himself upright, casually carried his plate to the kitchen, took the side exit at the normal clip then rushed to the nearest bathroom.

He lost his lunch to the porcelain bowl. Strategically, he should have went further, his bathroom- or at least the kids' communal bathroom. He shook as his stomach continued to pulse, as he tasted bile he hoped it would end, but there was no such optimism in this round.

Finally exhausted, his stomach unflexed, tender, he flushed then swayed to the sink. He rinsed his mouth, his throat felt tight, rebellious to any unwarranted entry to port.

With his anxiety this bad, he wondered what he had as options… 'Benedril?' He asked himself silently.

In few moments of his life did he ever want to have medication, but on this one, it was almost worth the trouble of talking to Race about it. Almost.

Anything said there would just be funneled anyway. How was it possible to go from 0 to 100 at a flip of a switch like that?! Had he the energy for it, he'd have hid out on the cover, find solace in caves natural abilities to hinder GPS signals. He watched his own gaunt, hallowed face.

'Well, I look like shit… at least I can always play that card if I need to unlatch from these weirdo imposters.' He smirked, 'Nah, not imposters… just same old hypocrites. Same old's right. Done this before.'

He washed his face vigorously, scrounged the medicine cabinet and hit pay-dirt. He popped one Benedril, dry-swallowed despite his stomach's protest, and chewed through two Tums for good measure.

As he closed up the cabinet, he reminded himself the importance of practicing. He was still too obvious in everything. His dad was right that he had the stealth of an elephant in Manhattan… also apparent was how gouache he had been, he'd worn his PJs to lunch.

It's hard to be mad at accurate critiques.

He shook his head at his own reflection, "You're an idiot." He said to himself, tiredly.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Hadji waved toward Jonny as the blond slogged toward his own room.

"Jonny, there you are."

He smiled tiredly, "That I am."

"Are you…"

"Just still a bit under the weather, thanks." He reminded.

"Ah, yes, your stomach…" Hadji reiterated his lie. With a haggard smile, the bags under Jonny's eyes emphasized it was at least half-way accurate. "If you would like to rest—"

'Desperately.' Jonny thought, but waited for him to spring the trap.

"—We could play chess in your room?"

He realized that would box him in. "And miss the view from the sun room? I can manage that much."

"Oh, well then," Hadji redirected, he wanted some privacy and the sun room would offer that.

Jonny continued toward the room, "Could you grab the board?" He asked in a kind tone, that was better.

"Of course."

He knew Hadji played knight-heavy and bishop-heavy. He formulated his strategy accordingly. Catching himself half-lidded, he snapped open his eyes. He'd play and humor his brother, and remind him that he's not a complete idiot. He was, after all, missing some pieces. Then he'd go to sleep, and by time he'd wake up, he'd give his sister a call, see how her day was.

Bitterly, he realized he didn't even want to talk about his own. He pulled out a padded chair near a small side table and jockeyed a second padded chair to sit across from it.

Hadji joined a moment later.

"I'll play as black." Jonny volunteered, "You go first."

"Oh, you do not wish to draw for it?"

"Nope, thanks." He shrugged, there never was a competition to go second.

"I have been playing against IRIS in Questworld. It will be nice to have a different opponent." Hadji said warmly.

'I built that software, and that was without grand master games…' he thought, smiled politely, "Really? Great! It's been so long since we've played, I'm glad you won't be rusty."

"And you? Will you be rusty?"

He shrugged, "It'll come back to me." He said non-committedly. Maybe he should crush him faster. Not that he wanted to toy with him, he just wanted to offer proof that he wasn't as stupid as they all treated him.

When they were younger, Jonny never demolished his brother, he'd always make it look neck and neck, sometimes throwing it to keep it fair. He was sure his family didn't realize it, you had to notice a person to realize their own actions. He say back into the chair.

He decided to win in 10 moves.

"Just one game though, okay?"

"Sure, Jonny." Hadji grinned, thinking about how to stretch it for a while. "How are TK, Bobby, and Matt? You have not brought them over in a long time."

'No shit I haven't…' he concentrated on setting up the board. When was he supposed to? After the 'active threat' that followed him home from Paris? Or when he was grounded for the rest of summer, 'under house arrest', or maybe for his birthday—shit, they hadn't even bothered to celebrate that this year. Not like he could blame them for not wanting to. Or was the flight out to New York what counted for that?

"They're good, TK keeps asking if we have hover jetskis… and the Evans twins say eating their mom's cooking at someone else's house is just weird." He shirked his shoulders, "They have a point, plus I'd imagine it's awkward to visit a friend's house and have your mom there."

Hadji eyed the blond unsure of how sensitive he was to the topic.

'Keep pitying me, you smug asshole…' He gave Hadji a friendly smile that reached his eyes and seemed to set Hadji at ease. At least he was getting better at faking it.

Hadji moved a knight out first, ignoring Hadji's Reti move, he pushed out a pawn to start a fishing pole trap and checkmate.

By time Hadji realized he'd been led by the nose, Jonny had him in checkmate. He'd done it in 8 moves.

Hadji looked at the board, options depleted, he tipped his king. "When did you become so accomplished at chess, Jonny?"

"Huh? I'm not." He said dismissively, acting as if it had been a fluke instead of a willful assassination. Forcing himself up, Jonny slipped the pieces back into the container before carrying it in.

"…Jonny are you intentionally avoiding me?" Hadji asked in an even affect.

"How'd it go from us playing one round to me avoiding you? That's hardly fair, particularly when the last time we've hung out by your request instead of mine's been well before summer." He sighed, "Now all of a sudden I exist again outside of the lighthouse—and hell, even there I only seemed to exist when it broke down. Maybe, Hadj, I just don't feel up to being the focus of a fad. Don't worry, you'll work it out of your systems soon enough." With a shrug and twist of his upper lip he added, "I'm not mad about anything, and I get why I've been on the backburner with you and Jess, but I don't like being jerked around or made into some object; great, dad feels guilty that he slapped me… well, okay then. Now everyone wants to notice me and that I've been worn down for a while? Well that's nice and all, but I didn't ask for that. Aim your guilt elsewhere, it's not on me to make all of you feel better for being cruddy to me of late. That's exactly what you're trying to force me to do, you know!"

He shook his head.

"It's bad enough I have to deal with dad doing it, but ALL of you are dog-piling. It's overwhelming, so if you don't mind terribly, your stupid little brother is going to go to his room and I don't want company, I don't want to be subjected to a coerced conversation, or some staged intervention of 'so you're an angsty teenager now…' because I'm not. You like to gossip so much, do me a favor and spread that."

"Gossip…?" Hadji asked unsure. "For asking father why you and only you stayed behind?! Has it not occurred to you that you were being selfish?"

Jonny rolled his eyes, "Of course I am, Hadji. Of course I am." He shook his head as he reentered the main living quarters and proceeded straight to his room, then locked and braced the door shut soundlessly.

He felt abysmal, he put on his warmest pair of pants, socks, and layered his t-shirt, sweater, and pulled on a light jacket and sneakers. There'd be no rest here, that was abundantly clear.

Pulling on a hat, he could probably have some peace and quiet on the roof if he were careful about it. He didn't have it in him for anymore hokey, insincere bullshit and Jessie still hadn't had her turn.

As impatient as he was, he didn't see how they'd all overlooked that. He laughed, "Oh right, because I'm invisible 90% of the time." He groaned, "Couldn't make it an even 100%, huh Quest?" He belittled.

Jonny pulled out a notebook and pen, an analog diary since IRIS could be accessed far too easily by snoops when inclined, he could think to himself for a bit. Opening his window, he slipped the notebook into his rear pocket and scaled the wall to reach the gabled part of the roof.

He leaned back until he was comfortable then pulled out his notebook and mindlessly sketched. The random sea birds were good motivation.

"Damn today sucks." He thought aloud as his hand moved to tone the image. He'd love nothing more than his anxiety level to drop off, but instead he'd been smothered all day by disingenuous people feeding their own savaged egos for realizing they'd been being selfish, yet now he was selfish for not absorbing their fucking guilt?! For not abdicating their onus in their own actions.

He chided himself, swearing wouldn't help him. No need to get yelled at in addition to being thrust back into the lime-light, though he'd be more familiar with that kind of dressing-down. He'd known he hadn't been fine for a while, but now that it was common knowledge it was just another way to look down on him.

'Oh he's so irrational and emotional and sensitive….' He mocked, "Like they even know me. Dad's raising a stranger." He closed his eyes, dozing off in the crisp air.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

With a chill, Jonny opened his eyes to see the dimming sky. He sat up carefully and rubbed his hands for warmth. That had done the trick, his nerves were back under control.

Rolling his neck, he stretched as he yawned. Today had been one helluva rollercoaster, he also managed to alienate at least 80% of the family, not like they shouldn't have a taste every so oft. Know what he lived off a majority of the time.

Still watching the sky, he recognized the beauty of dusk.

"Well, I better go back in." He scoffed, "Lest I be missed, riiiiight. I better be extra careful too, imagine if I fell off the roof, they'd claim it was a suicide attempt with how crazy they've been acting… self-harm my foot."

He eased himself back into his window after climbing down the stone face.

The room had a chill from keeping the window open, not that he cared, not today at least. He closed the window and hung up his jacket, hid the notebook in a rear drawer and then undid the barricade but left the lock engaged.

Phone in hand, he shot off a text message to Venus.

"How's your dad sis?"

His phone buzzed near immediately. "Bored. So so so bored. Bed rest sux!"

He laughed, texted back, "Had I known I'd have called u earlier."

His phone rang. "H-hello?" He answered, shocked by the speed of the dial.

"I'm home all week, probably two. What did you do today?"

He flinched. "…Dropped AP Chemistry and systematically had a blow-up with everyone in the house, I think."

She laughed, "Ow! Ow…" she suppressed, "You think? It couldn't be that bad if you're not sure you did it."

Jonny laughed at that, "Oh, no I'm sure I pissed off Hadji. He called me selfish, but I did crush him in chess, it's the little things in life that count."

"…"

He felt like they were talking face to face, like she wanted more backstory and was waiting on it.

"…Dad's trying to be attentive now. It'll last a month, maybe. This morning I skipped out early so I could just get through the day without the drama and failed epically. Jess is pissed I didn't wait for her, the Chem teacher tried to manipulate me into presenting one of dad's papers all while calling me the wrong name, bonus he told me my mom'd get used to calling me John once I grew up…" he laughed darkly, "It was so bad that I decided I'd rather dead with dad thinking I'm a complete imbecile versus deal with that guy… then I got sick, came home, and have been living in the Twilight Zone where everyone wants to be my besssst friennnnnd and talk like we do all the time because that's how it's always been instead of just a knee-jerk overcorrection every time they realize they don't actually give a shit about me most of the time."

"…Out of sight, out of mind?" She asked in deference.

"Yeah… plus Race accused me of self-harm and I've been having and anxiety attack all day."

"Eh, well, my drugs are keeping me mellow. So I have that going. Dad dropped in some movies and is working from home so he can be at my every whim, his words, not mine—said whims have been breakfast, lunch, early dinner, and cocoa. Ian and Alex are going to stay at the school until I'm better enough to not need dad to hover."

"So they have a ride?"

"Basically. Alex sent me a list of my homework, little liar is trying to give me his work."

"Wow, that's ingenious." Jonny laughed.

"…So, did he cut into you yesterday too?"

"No. I avoided them better yesterday, but Hadji pounced on me last night, and… well… that facilitated today."

"Huh…" She said thoughtfully, "You mind if I call dad in?"

"No, you do what you need… do you want me to call you back?"

"No, I mean to talk to you. He has a tendency to know how to mitigate thiiiiiings."

"…Things?"

"Thiiiiiiiings." She nodded, drawled it out. He heard a bell ringing.

"Oh my god, you're kidding… he gave you a bell?" He laughed.

"Cutesy, I know, bonus if he pisses me off I can throw it at him… just kidding. Maybe."

"Wow, you are on good drugs."

"Oh hardly. They aren't IV, now that's the good shit."

He heard the door open and what sounded like Darren asking, "You okay baby? Whatcha need?"

"Dad, Jonny's on the line, can you chat for a bit with him?"

"…Is he okay? What about?"

He heard the phone travel.

"Hey-oh, Venus, you want some cocoa?"

"Sure."

He heard ruffling and what sounded like a kiss as the phone muffled with motion, the door shut with a soft click.

"So Jonny, what's up?"

"Hi Mr. Kiers…"

"Squirt, call me Darren, I'm way younger than your uppity dad AND Race, so don't go trying to make me feel old."

He laughed, "Oh, okay Darren. Venus said I should talk to you, I dunno what specifically about…"

"Talk about…?"

"Thiiiiings, as she said."

"Ohh, right, things. She's on good pain meds."

Jonny laughed audibly, "I know, right!"

"Now you're smiling, that's better."

"Yeah, you can tell?" He smiled harder despite himself.

Darren gave a curt, "Uh-huh, so what had you feeling down?"

"I landed in the Stepford Suburbs…"

"Oh, they're overcompensating, huh?"

"Yeahhhhhh… you could say that."

"And driving you up a creek?"

"No, not at all…" he dripped the sarcasm. "But my brother thinks I'm selfish for not wanting to absorb all their guilt as they try to shoehorn their way into being active participants in my life."

"…Ouch." Darren lit a cigarette, "Well, try not to kill them, as I always tell my princess, she could handle disposal of that many bodies, but you are a bit of a novice there. Nothing personal."

Jonny laughed harder, "I don't want to do that, I just want them to act normal."

"Do you, though?"

"Okay, let me amend that, more normal, I don't like coerced, fake sentiment. Dad's suddenly interested in my studying the arts and triathlons… on a plus side, I did get to drop AP Chem with that total jerk Mr. Stevens."

"Well, that's good at least, what'd it cost you?"

"Way too much privacy. He made me talk about Friday… and wouldn't just lecture… I know he's disappointed, and now instead of just having to hear it, I have to fill in the speech…"

"Maybe he isn't disappointed, Jonny?"

"No, he is. I dropped it because that pompous jerk wouldn't call me my name and wanted to make me present on dad's paper even though no one else has to present anything." He sighed, "Then the jerk grabbed my arm when I said I'd drop his class if I could…"

"Okay, pro-tip—your dad ISN'T lecturing you because he put hands on you. If anyone touched my kid, nah… he's not lecturing you because he's just glad he didn't have to pay bail today."

"…Dad's not like that, Darren. He's a pacifist, unless it's me being annoying…"

"No way, don't try lying to me, I'm way better at the art of interrogations for it. Your dad was an absolute ass to you on Friday, but he's the kind of ass that doesn't believe in sharing. He's protective of you, even when he's an asshole, which is good because he seems like he's regularly an asshole."

Jonny laughed depreciatively, "You think?"

"So do you. I mean that he's protective and a jerk."

"…Race told me he doesn't like me being depressed and anxious… said he thought I was self-harming…"

"Mehhhhh… we all have vices, what'd he say yours were?"

"I took a 40 mile bike ride yesterday."

"…You're training for a triathlon? Half Ironman or what?"

"Olympic, but I want to be good enough to do the half."

"And you did it tired and upset?"

"…Yes sir."

"Shit you two really are twins." He laughed, "Eh, pushing yourself to the brink just to prove you can isn't necessarily self-harm, but it is self-destructive to not take care to recover. If you're aware of it, and I mean that you're pushing yourself harder than you should—but it's to get better, not to punish yourself… well, that's just drive."

He pulled a pot out from a drawer.

"But it's also his job to keep you from hurting yourself, and just like your dad probably overdoes lab work—what, 7 day binders without sleep—if Phil's believable, Race is probably trying to keep you from stupid-overdoing it versus challenging yourself overdoing it."

"…Really?"

"Maybe. He's a damn goody-two-shoes like Phil, but he does care."

"Darren, thanks for talking me through it."

"Fughettaboutit, you're a good guy, you making it up for Halloween?"

"I hope so, sir."

"I can see you're polite, but do me a solid, I hate being called sir. Darren's more than fine, plus you sound way too much like your sister for it to sound respectful."

"…Huh?"

Darren laughed, "Think about when you've had to call your dad sir when you weren't feeling it—you know how much of a little shit you sounded like to yourself? To your dad, it's be times 100, that's how sir sounds like from her always. I raised my kid with a healthy sense of authority figures."

"…That… somehow doesn't seem true."

"Oh, it's plenty healthy to be insubordinate and take no one's shit. Well, 'til you get knifed for it." His voice lilted the caveat.

"…" Jonny wasn't comfortable laughing at that.

"Anyhow, I'm about to drug her some more with hot cocoa. Feel free to call whenever, I'll text you my number too, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks again Darren. Tell her I said good night?"

"Sure, keep on trudging through, it'll get easier and better… but you gotta put in the hours."

"Okay."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Begrudgingly, Jonny made his way to the dinner table.

He felt somewhat recharged, and his stomach was far kinder now that it had been earlier today.

While he did feel embarrassed that the others knew he felt depressed and anxious, it was just his family, and families usually had that much information. In perspective, it wasn't that big of a deal, so maybe he had been teenage-angsting?

More relaxed, he carried his more natural, resting happy-go-lucky muted smile as he headed into the dining room.

He swallowed thickly as his eyes swept the room, it was as cheery as a funeral, Jessie was fuming, Hadji was doing his calm-pissed thing where he made cobras look cuddly, and his dad and Race had looks of consternation… His shoulders slumped, it was definitely too late to turn around.

"Damn…" he hushed under breath. He didn't even hear the bell chime for round # 6.

"Well, this'll be a pleasant dinner." He said in jest, more for his own encouragement than to change the outcome, oh—and there was his good buddy anxiety sidling up to give him a hug.

Jessie crossed her arms and turned her head away from him. "I can't believe you! You dropped?! Quitter."

He rolled his eyes upward and blew out a sigh, "Is that a school rumor or family gossip, now?"

"Ponchita, it's not your business." Race interjected.

"Yes it is! Mr. Stevens was fuming—what did you do anyway?!"

He forced a smile, "Oh, my usual." He was kicking himself, nothing ever changed. He pulled out a chair and sank into it, dejected. The room was an absolute energy drain. He glanced at Hadji who also wouldn't make eye contact.

On a plus side, at least he was used to being invisible. "And here I was long-shotting it to a month…" he mumbled.

"What was that, Jonny?" Dr. Quest asked in a calm worry.

"Nothing sir," he mumbled again, slightly more articulately. He wasn't sure what was worse, the apathy or the sledgehammer of pity.

"So, how was your day, Jessie?" He offered, clearly a mistake but anger was better than being ignored or pitied.

"It sucked." She seethe, "All day everyone was bugging me about where you were and then in last period, Mr. Stevens lectured us about not embracing challenges and how soft our generation is, oh, and assigned us all topics to present on."

Dr. Quest tugged his ear, he had thoughts on the matter, but was not quite up to discuss them civilly.

"What's your topic? Advanced plastics?"

"No… I have to present about how fracking breaks carbon-chains and where different gasoline weights come in."

"Oh, week 7 stuff, when do you present?"

"Week 8. I'm second… luckily there's an Adams in our class."

"What's Todd stuck presenting then?" He asked.

"How plastics are condensed."

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, look, dad—he didn't have to present on your advanced theories."

"What's with you!" She snipped.

Jonny pushed back his chair, this was beyond the pale, "May I be excused?"

"Frequently." Hadji said sharply.

"Not really, Hadji, usually the norm is that I'm inexcusable, oh, and selfish as you kindly pointed out." He nodded to himself.

"Son, please sit down, you've barely eaten all day."

"Can you blame me?" He asked flatly, the obvious response there was yes, readily. His heart was at a gallop.

"I'd appreciate for us to not have an antagonistic family dinner." His dad said in a patient tone.

"Oh, so I am excused?" Jonny rebutted.

"No, you are not. You're also part of our family." Dr. Quest reminded him laying the patience heavily.

"Am I? I'd forgotten." He said, still hovering, ready to make a hasty retreat.

"So the diplomat's skipping this one?" Race asked casually, trying to end the stalemate.

Jonny glowered, "Yeah, that needs more practice…"

Jessie scoffed, "The diplomat? Who's that?"

"Oh, one of Jonny's characters," Hadji shot, "As he has so much personality, he must entertain himself by creating several."

"…Kids." Race warned, "Jonny, have a seat." He rubbed his tongue between his teeth, miserably, as he sat back down. "Now that that's settled, let's eat." Race recommended.

"Hadji, can you pass the sweet potatoes?" Jessie asked kindly.

"Certainly," He replied in suite.

Jonny watched in numb antipathy as the other two acted as if his invisibility kicked back in. He reached for a dish only for Jessie to pull it away faster, "Green beans?"

He brought his hand back to his lap, trying to roll it past and over him. He should've expected that blow-back. He knew that much, there was an actual saying about not pissing off redheads. Several in fact.

Race and Benton were eying each other, debating the merits of disciplining the kids for being bratty or to get through dinner without screaming.

Race handed Jonny the dish as it passed around. Instead of taking any, he sat it down. "Pardon me." He stood, placing his napkin on his seat. He clutched his stomach suggestively as he staggered toward the kitchen and restroom nearest.

"Son?"

He bee-lined to the bathroom and fell to his knee, the next ten minutes were spent trying to empty all the bile his small intestines had imported from his liver and gall bladder.

A soft knock carried in a lull of his misery.

"Jonny?"

"S-sorry… couldn't…" he gagged again, more green entered the bowl.

"May I come in?"

The only response was more gagging and liquid hitting liquid. The door opened a crack, Dr. Quest closed the door behind him. He wetted a washcloth in cool water and touched it to the back of Jonny's neck.

Jonny sat back on his heels and leaned his head back to look at his dad.

"I'll be back out… inna…" he leaned back over the bowl, another mouthful came out.

"All day?" He nodded, understanding the question in full, more bile came out. "Is it anxiety or your stomach?"

He held up his pointer finger.

"First one?"

"Yeah…" he managed, he felt exhausted. He leaned into a wall.

"Okay, let's get you up to your room to rest. I'll set up an appointment for tomorrow."

"Appointment…?" He said, his dad helped him upright, the cramps in his stomach made him sway violently.

"Yes, can you stand on your own? You look unsteady."

He slowly shook his head left then right.

His eyes felt heavy, Benton put a guiding hand on his bicep to prevent him from hitting porcelain on his way down if he did faint.

"Can you take some medicine?"

"Benedril?"

"Exactly my thoughts."

"Not yet, but soon…" He offered, leaned back into the wall.

"You kept the oatmeal down?"

"Yeah…" Jonny felt his stomach roil, he squeezed his eyes shut. He slid down the wall to sit again and kicked his legs out and he kept his eyes shut. The room felt too small, he could practically hear them mock him in blatant disdain. "I… I'm fine here." He offered, his dad's hand released only for him to feel a hand pushing something into his hand. He blinked his eyes open.

"Tums and Benedril." He was holding a cup of water.

"Don't need water…" Jonny replied, he gnawed the chalky Tums then dry swallowed the Benedril. "Don't miss dinner, I'm gonna wait it out a few more…"

He saw his dad kneel down into a crouch. "How many of these attacks have you had, Jonny?"

"I don't quantify these… a handful over the past few months, but not this bad, especially when I take bike rides." He looked at his dad's mouth instead of his eyes then cast his eyes lower. "Doesn't matter anyway… usually don't need to take anything for 'm…"

Benton didn't actively argue, but was of a vastly different opinion. He was busying himself counting the thrum of Jonny's pulse in his neck, he was clocking 100bpm easily. "Do calming breaths help?"

Jonny scoffed darkly, "No, but 20 plus miles on a bike does." He shook his head, "Not being swarmed does, not feeling like I'm the world's biggest… well, fill in the blank, I'm going to head to my room." He gripped the wall to slide up it. He felt a hand on his bicep again. "I can manage by myself, thanks." He said, it probably came out short, but he didn't particularly mean it that way.

"You look faint. I'd rather you make it up the stairs intact."

"Oh where's your adventurous spirit." He deadpanned, "Will he make it up the stairs, will he fall down them as well as a slinky, then still trek back up—? Stay tuned to find out…"

His dad was much less entertained by the imagery than he was.

Jonny laughed darkly to himself, "You'll really be mad about earlier…" he said more to himself, "I was able to get on the roof just fine."

"Oh? What did you do up there?" He said without adding kerosene.

"Think… sleep… the usual." He looked at the hand, "Really, let go."

Benton acknowledged the withering look. "Would you rather Race help you upstairs?"

"I'd rather no one touch me right now. I can make the stairs."

Benton let out a breath to keep his keel, released the teen's arm and stepped aside.

"I don't need a doctor's appointment. It's fine." He said with more strength.

"It's not up for debate."

He shook his head with a scoff, "Of course it isn't," he mumbled, he walked past his dad. Gripping the rail, he made it up the stairs in one shot, entered his room and closed the door, he laid over his covers and fell quickly to sleep, he really overshot that over-under.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Vaguely, in the dark room, Jonny was aware someone had entered, put something down, and was turning to leave.

He mumbled, "What time is it?"

Forcing himself up, he stretched. In all things fair, he'd had way too much sleep today to truly need it, even if his emotional exhaustion was ever present.

"Easy there, kiddo," Race said in a quiet voice, "About 9. Are you waking up?"

He nodded, he gave the voice command to IRIS to turn on the lights, sure that clobbering himself in the shin would only improve his day further.

The fast transition of 1.5 seconds of the light increasing was also far better than instant light. He gave the older man a look. "Jess and Hadji still pissed?"

The no-comment shrug as much as confirmed it as he continued on.

He shook his head, "How is it that gossip's never to my benefit? No, I just have the pleasure of having to recount to the believing audience…"

"Ponchita doesn't know what happened between you and Mr. Stevens, and I mean it, it's not her business. You don't have to tell her."

"Oh right, because two pissed off redheads is what I need in my life…"

"Is your dad pissed off?" Race countered.

Jonny froze, for a person so tired of all these conversations, he sure seemed eager to engage.

"Never mind, forget I said anything." He said in a quiet voice. All of this would funnel, there was no such thing as confidentiality for him, unless it was vastly inconvenient of course. Then, apparently, he got privacy.

"Alright." Race agreed, it surprised him that he just rolled without pushing for more. "Some oatmeal there, it should settle your stomach."

Jonny nodded, hopeful that the calories would do him some good. Maybe he'd have the energy for an easy ride, then he'd really just feel better.

"Race?"

"Yeah Jonny?"

"…Dad said I'm not grounded…"

"You aren't. Why? Did you want to watch TV or something?"

Jonny looked down. The white-haired man gave him a look, "Jonny, what are you thinking? You've been under the weather all day—don't tell me you're itching to go for another ride?"

He looked at the oatmeal and pulled off the lid, "Never mind, I was just asking."

Race gave him an expectant side-long look, "Kiddo, don't go sneaking out. It's bad enough that you climb up the walls… at least I know where you're at."

The blond wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I won't push you, I was just dropping off some dinner for you, but if you decide to take a walk or leave the grounds, let me know—okay?"

He nodded to himself.

"Besides, it's after curfew." Race reminded him gently, certain that would make no difference. The kid still wouldn't look at him.

"Well, alright… I'll leave you to your dinner. Good night, Jonny."

"Good night." He mumbled back, he waited for Race to leave before digging in.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

To kill time, Jonny began writing his English paper on Galinda the Good as he digested the calories. He reminded himself that he was not grounded, that while curfew had passed, that it also reset by 5AM and he could work in a run and still maintain that good standing.

Or at least that intent of law standing… he was never considered good.

Hadji thought he was selfish… how did he even come up with something so off base?! Sure, he got how Jess was mad—it was utter garbage, but she was on a vastly subdued front of a storm he was in part of making… that he could deal with. But Hadji, Mister Maturity… that irked him to no end.

He laughed to himself, "Maybe I should've taken on the West." He read over the paper again, in his own insomnia, by 4AM he put out a well-rounded thesis paper. He saved and printed it then headed to the bathroom to grab a shower.

Enjoying every bit of the pulsing showerhead, he felt the tension slip away from his body, the hot steam loosening up his lungs and muscles. After twenty minutes he killed the water, toweled dry, and in said towel returned to his room to get dressed for a jog.

As he did several warm-up stretched, he began to categorize chief complaints. No one worked on their faults with him, yet somehow he was compelled to do that for them… it was so frustrating. But he knew he owed it to Hadji to listen through, if only because he usually was the only one who consistently tried.

Sighing, he drafted a note apologizing for calling him a gossip and a meddler and asked him to explain how he was being selfish and promising to be more willing to actually talk about it instead of pass notes after school. He folder it into a paper fortune cookie and slipped it under his brother's door as well as a note to Race that the time was 5:15 and he was going for a 2-mile run and would be back in reasonably soon.

With his t's crossed and i's dotted, he went to the kitchen for a piece of toast and to get Bandit to join him on his run.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

On a short trail, Jonny and Bandit jogged past the spot he'd rescued a lady's pack from almost two weeks ago.

He was surprised to see her still around, if anything he thought that was very strange. Backpackers usually went way deeper into the trails.

"Here boy." He commanded, they needed to double back, suddenly that earlier thought of the threat being lifted seemed significantly less accurate than he'd banked on.

"Well, you were going to leave without saying hi? I'm wounded." She said, her eyes traveled up to his.

"Bandit, go!" He commanded, he turned 180 degrees and sprinted, he knew Bandit could keep up for a short burst, but then he'd need to grab him. He was hopeful he'd make the range of a 200M dash.

"Hey! No fair—!" the woman called out, annoyed she'd have to chase him.

He felt his chest constrict more tautly than he'd expected from the dart, his own hands shaking.

'Not now, not now!' He begged his panic attack to hold off. It was costing him time and she was keeping up rather well—he hadn't opened up nearly the gap he'd hoped to achieve, and adding a 30 pound weight was hardly going to improve his distance! Bandit's pace was also starting to peter out.

"Bandit, to me!" He called, clapped his chest and turned to catch the Frenchie projectile as his dog obeyed with a leap. He teetered but pulled off the pivot and dug deep.

On a natural bridge, the gap was closed. He still had some maneuverability, but he also knew once they got to solid land this was going to get physical.

Or so he'd thought, she kicked out his knee and sent him face first into the creek.

He yelped as his leg snagged on the way into the drink, he dropped Bandit unwillingly, the old boy climbed back onto the felled tree.

His eyes widened as the woman began to fish for something in her pocket. Jonny began paddling with the current, he was sure she'd pull a gun. "Bandit! GO!"

Not obeying the command, Bandit instead opted to sick, he clenched down hard on the woman's arm.

His chest barely let him draw any air as tightly as it clenched when the woman flung his dog to the embankment ten feet away.

"…No… boy, run…" he pleaded, too far away to stop it if she decided to shoot his dog.

The dog ran at her again, this time launching into her back, toppling her and growling.

Jonny pulled himself onto the creek bank, a good 30M away, "B-Bandit—come!" he choked out.

He took a step back toward the danger, desperate to get to his dog before harm could befall the loveable pooch.

Bandit seemed to sense Jonny's intent, he rushed toward him in a fast skedaddle.

He muttered a, "Thank god…" as he hobbled a run back for the exit of the trail.

He glanced back, the woman wasn't following him, he didn't see where she'd went to either. With a crash, he sunk to the ground, wheezing.

Shakily, he drew the cellphone he had on him and hit speed dial # 1.

Race was on it by the middle of ring 1.

"Jonny! Where are you, what's wrong—?"

"Tr-trail…" he gasped a pant, "c-can't breathe… chased… someone—marker 1…"

"Are you somewhere secure until I get there?" He ordered as he pulled his keys and gun.

"D-dunno… can't see her…"

He was hyperventilating.

"Stay on the line with me. I'll be five minutes."

Jonny nodded vigorously, not that Race could see it. He winced sharply when Bandit licked the gash in his leg. "Hh…"

"Kid, are you hurt?"

"N-not major…" He tried to force in more air, it was a losing battle, "I don't hear anyone…"

His head was spinning, even still he scanned the trail. He heard a car door slam. "Can you hear me? I'm coming up to you—I see you at the tree." Race informed.

Jonny nodded, tried to force himself upright but failed to get the momentum to lift.

"Easy kiddo, I gotcha." Race was on him, hoisting him up while he scanned the area. Jonny closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Okay, up and at 'em." Race kept a firm hand on the back of Jonny's shirt, another on his arm, he eyed the gash and Bandit at the kid's foot.

There was a welt just above his knee at the side, and he was drenched, teeth chattering.

"I know you're gung-ho about that swimming piece, but c'mon kiddo, that water's cold now."

Jonny didn't offer a retort, instead he leaned into Race's heat and steadiness.

"Deep breaths," Race coached. The blond nodded as he tried to oblige. Race helped him limp up to the car, Bandit hopped into the back as he spun Jonny into the seat and began a triage.

He pulled out a gauze pad from the first aid kit under the seat and pressed it onto the wound.

"Kid, can you hold this on while I drive?"

He nodded mutely, doubled over which made it a little easier to breathe.

As a much slower clip than he'd driven to get there, he drove them back to the compound dialing Benton to update him.

Back home, he helped Jonny into the house and ushered him back toward the showers. He peeled back the gauze to reveal a shallow gash. Jonny was sat into the tub, still clothed when the water hit him in a hot spray.

He peeled off his top and dropped it out of the shower, much happier to embrace hot water than cold water. Race saw the second welt at Jonny's hip, same side.

"Kiddo, did you land bad?"

He nodded mutely, color starting to return to him.

"Sh-she kicked out my knee, sprawled me into the creek, I snagged my leg on the fall. It's not deep is it?"

"No, it's not, but we'll still need to clean it up good."

Jonny nodded and took a long, shaky breath.

"It was the same lady from before…"

"What lady?" Race asked.

"When I came home drenched? It was her pack I dove in for, but I had my bike then…"

Race wasn't following.

"I went on a ride, we had that three-day weekend for the school trip except I wasn't allowed to go, so I took a ride… and a backpacker lost her gear… except that was two weeks ago and she's still at that same part of the trail… I got suspicious of that so I decided to double back and she chased me—knocked me into the water… I think she was going for a weapon when Bandit bit her."

"Did you see a weapon, or anyone else?"

He shook his head.

"No, I swum downstream to get away if it was a gun…"

"Okay, what did she look like?"

"…Dark brown, wavy shoulder-length hair, dark grey eyes, athletic slim build, bangs, light complexion… 5'6" at tallest… kicked like a mule though…"

He gingerly rubbed his knee.

"Okay, I'll grab you some shorts and a sweater, you change out and meet me in the kitchen to patch that up."

"Yes sir."

"Home much did she weigh, round-about?"

"…I dunno, she was lighter than me, maybe a buck twenty? Maybe a little less."

Race nodded grimly. That was not a kidnap attempt, not if she was alone at least. He wasn't sure if Jonny picked up on that, but from what it sounded like… no, he wasn't sure what that sounded like besides not enough information!

As promised, he dropped off a warm sweater and sweat shorts so they could patch his leg.

He was tempted to keep all the kids home today. Dr. Quest eyed Race as they awaited Jonny in the kitchen.

"He was attacked?"

Race nodded, "I don't think abduction was the intent, not unless she had friend Jonny didn't see."

"And you didn't spot her?"

"No." Race glanced toward where Jonny's enter, "…He got pretty far away from where he said it happened, and Bandit dug in."

"Thank goodness he had him with him…"

Jonny limped gracelessly into the kitchen. Both adults took note, that limp was not a good sign.

"Let's ice that knee and elevate it, shall we?" Dr. Quest suggested.

"…I had a panic attack when I ran. I've never had one when it's important…" he frowned.

Benton cradled his face, "We'll get through it."

"…" He looked down.

"Alright, peroxide going on," Race warned, the blond winced but didn't jerk his leg, some light dressings went around it, tape keeping it closed then a layer of gauze covered it. Jonny leaned into his dad's shoulder.

Race prodded his knee joint, his leg did jerk at that, the outside of his knee very tender below the bruising. He wrapped it then several icepacks over top it, strategically.

"You're parked for an hour at least."

Jonny nodded, "Can I park in the den at least?"

"Yeah, I'll carry you over." Race conceded, a couch would be far more comfortable than a chair.

He winced at having his leg jostled even slightly but was just glad to be lying down instead of extending his leg while seated. Just as Jonny began to doze off, he heard Jessie rushing around which brought him straight back to the room.

"Dad! My alarm didn't go off! I'm going to be late—"

"You're fine, I'm keeping you home today."

"What? Why?!"

He gestured toward the den.

"What did he do now?" She fumed, instantly regretting it when her dad gave her the stink eye.

"He was attacked this morning, I haven't been able to figure out by whom or why so you're staying home because we have an active threat."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I didn't hear IRIS…"

"It happened when he was off-site going for a morning run." Race explained, not happy with her attitude one bit.

"Are you okay?" She called over.

"Ponchita, let him sleep it off. He tweaked his leg." In a hushed tone Race conspired.

She whispered back, "How bad?"

Equally quiet, he added, "We don't know yet, might've sprained his knee."

"Wouldn't that cost him the triathlon?" Her eyes shone with concern.

"God, I hope not… that'd be a damn shame."

Seeming to concur, Jessie walked toward the dining room and away from where Jonny was resting.

Jonny tried to settle back in, but the ghost of sleep had moved on.

He watched his leg, the events sinking in rapidly, the gash wasn't that big of a deal, maybe he'd miss swimming for two weeks, but his knee… if that wasn't just a painful bruise it could be a major setback. His chest felt tight again.

He rolled his face into the back of the couch. At 8AM he felt a hand tap his shoulder. Groggily, he shifted toward it.

"Careful, I just took the ice off. Want some breakfast?" his dad asked hopeful.

"…I fell asleep."

"That's alright, are you hungry?"

He shrugged, "A little."

"Okay, do you think you can make it to the dining room?"

He gave another shirk, "I can try…"

Legs pulled over, he put weight on his uninjured right leg and less on his left. He bit back the expletive as his knee shot angry signals up through his hip with his left hand using the couch as a crutch.

"Let me help…?" Dr. Quest offered himself as a more mobile one. The teen frowned.

"I can do it myself, it's fine…" he protested.

"Son," he was about to expound on how much of a small thing it was but stopped short. He'd made it a big deal when he'd struck him. He'd made him feel small, unimportant, and incapable, and now his career had yet again dwarfed his son's own ambitions by making him a target to his latest attacker.

"I can manage." He said in a hard voice, he limped stoically to the other room and snagged the closest chair to the exit.

He saw Jessie and Hadji were waiting at the table, shit. Had he fallen into another trap?

"How's your leg?" Jessie asked softly.

His pupils constricted, he looked around the room. "It's stiff. It's not anything…" he mumbled dismissively, really lacking the energy to dig into another round.

She nodded back, apparently on better behavior that he'd expected.

"I saw your note, Jonny." Hadji offered peaceably.

His body language read defensively, he was trying to keep the target small, he looked at his leg, his knee looked awful, mottled reds and pinks from the strike and fall. "…" He tried to get his voice to cooperate, "…I do want to talk about that… just… well, really not as a group…"

Hadji nodded, "Neither of us woke to this day going as foreseen."

"Yeah, that's accurate." Jonny laughed, "Though, I probably should've with my luck."

"…Last night—"

"Please, really, I can't get into it now. My nerves are shot."

"But of course." Hadji paused. Jonny's shoulders were shaking, the tension he'd been holding was too tall of an order.

The smell of rich breakfast foods made his stomach somersault. He lowered his head, pinched the brim of his nose and closed his eyes. An uncomfortable watering in his mouth told him how nauseated he was feeling.

When oatmeal was put in front of him, he was unsure of how that good tiding passed, he forced four bites rapidly to give his stomach something else to assault and then waited for the others to get their servings.

His eyes caught hold of the Tums and Benedril.

"Kids, we're going to implement heightened security measures, that includes staying on the grounds and using the buddy system." Race reminded.

"And we have an appointment in town at 9." Dr. Quest pointed at both he and Jonny, "We'll be in around lunch."

Frowning, Jonny tried to sit more upright.

"Race will accompany us, Jessie, Hadji, can you stay in the main building until we're back?"

"Yes sir."

"Yes Dr. Quest."

They spoke in unison.

"Good, no visitors are expected."

"…I…" Jonny tried, his voice felt stuck in his throat, "—I can't get upstairs right now…" He acknowledged there were challenges and then there were stupid challenges, or something like that. "…I'd feel better with a phone on me… I know you're both coming with, but… in case you know…"

He sunk into the warm hand that found its way to the back of his neck, and closed his eyes. In case they got diverted, in case he had to call cops, in case he fell down a well… seriously, he wasn't discounting anything else with his luck.

Race put it in front of him, "I also brought over something warmer, it's 50 degrees and dropping like a stone with that cold-front."

Jonny nodded gratefully. He finished half a bowl of oatmeal, his stomach telling him not to push his shitty luck.

"I called Bennett, we're trying to get a handle on it."

"Is there multiple people, Race?" He asked a bit unnerved, not sure if he should say the next part.

"So far, no."

"So it isn't Gaia? …She was young, maybe 20 at oldest…" he swallowed, "If… if she was alone, Race was she going to try to kill me?"

Race let out a long breath. "We don't have enough info yet."

"…But if she was alone, then—" He stopped himself. "She was really strong, and fast. I mean I'm not out of shape and she caught up to me."

"I don't have enough intel to give you a brief, Jonny. It is possible, but then why attack one day but not the other?"

"…Okay." Jonny downed the medicine, he wanted to ask someone who wouldn't sugarcoat it. "May I be excused? I'd like to rest for a bit."

"Of course, son." Dr. Quest chimed a measured response, he looked at Race in worry.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Leg elevated, Jonny reclined into the couch exhausted. He texted Venus.

"Just wrecked my leg." He sent an immediate follow-up, "Someone tried to kill me."

The phone rang.

"—Hey." He said quietly.

"Are you—"

"My knee's bruised up but I'm okay." He interjected.

"—Seriously telling me someone ATTACKED you?! WHERE?!"

He blinked, that was not the expected question at all. "On the trail, a woman jumped me…"

"Like a mugger?"

"No, like I saw her two weeks ago the same day you got grabbed, when I was on my bike, but I saw her today and got a real bad feeling—just not fast enough."

"…" He could hear her internal gears going. "Any ideas of who she is?"

"No, but minions aren't usually the ones we know by name… I'd think she was with Gaia except she was alone, I think she wanted to kill me."

"…Okay, what's she look like, I'll have dad run it… Jonny—what the hell is Gaia to you?"

"…I dunno, some eco-terrorists who want dad to work for them, in Paris this summer they tried to kill me, too, so maybe it is Gaia."

"Wait, they tried to kill you in Paris?" Venus blinked.

"Yeah, Dr. Arquette sent a threat to my dad and Race, then poisoned me and killed their liaison with InterPol Dr. Rin Li Yuan…"

"And your attacker, what's she look like?" Venus asked in a veiled anger.

"Race is already—"

"—Humor me." She said sharply, "We have different resources."

"Okay…" he cleared his throat, "Five-six, athletic, trim, light—like 120 at heaviest, fair skin, young—like a college coed at 20 at oldest, grey eyes, wavy dark brown shoulder-length hair…"

"DAD!"

"Ow! Warn a guy…" He winced at the scream through the phone.

"You'd recognize her again?!"

"Y-yeah…"

Darren rushed over, "Woah, what's wrong—" Jonny could hear commotion, "Sit your ass down, what's—"

"Darren?"

"Jonny? Can I have her call you—"

"Have him tell you!" She yelled from the background.

"You need to sit your too-skinny ass down, you'll pop a stitch…"

"ASK him." She demanded.

"Alright, but sit DOWN. Jonny, why's she flying off the rails?"

"I think someone tried to kill me this morning, a 5'6" woman 20 at oldest, probably younger, grey eyes, dark brown wavy shoulder-length hair, bangs, about 120, trim-athletic really fast and strong…"

"…"

"…Darren?"

"Where?"

"The trail by my house."

"Would you recognize her?"

"Yes." Jonny reiterated.

"And you're near a computer?"

"…Yes?" His voice lilted.

"Open your email, what's the address?"

"1 Quest Dr—"

"No, your email address, no, never mind, Venus has it. Okay, sent it."

They waited a few moments for it to load, Jonny gaped.

"…That's her. Who is she?"

"…"

"Darren, are you still there?" Jonny asked.

"When did you see her?"

"Thursday two weeks ago, that morning we received that threat from Gaia, and then today."

"…That… that makes no fucking sense, I have to make some calls… is Race with you?"

"Yeah…"

"Do not have him leave your sight line, you hear me?"

"Who is she, Darren?"

"I don't know how—but I'm going to find that out, but that's Jenna."

"…Your niece?" Jonny blinked, "…Who tried to kill Venus on Wednesday two weeks ago?"

"I repeat, do not let Race leave your sight line. I have to make these calls."

Jonny swallowed thickly as the line disconnected. "Race?"

As Jonny turned, the white-haired man saw the image on display. "—That's who attacked me… Darren said it's Jenna, Phil's daughter….?"

Race locked eyes with the boy. "Fur on a catfish…" he muttered.

"I… I don't understand, she attacked Venus on a Wednesday and then not even a day later she's here, we didn't even know about each other—" his mouth opened, "…unless Gaia already knew about us both? But why would she want to kill me…?"

"Very good questions that I'm frankly going to ask some people," Race drawled, "but you still have that appointment and you need to go to it."

Jonny nodded, he felt frayed.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Darren was on the horn with Phil as soon as he disconnected from Jonny.

"—Darren, how's Venus doing?"

"Where are they?" He cut in a pithy.

"Who?" Phil asked unnerved.

"That bitch ex-wife of yours and Jenna." Darren hissed, "Because I have a confirmed sighting of Jenna in a little town in Maine you might've heard of—from Thursday."

"From last week?" Phil blinked.

"No. Two weeks ago."

"Darren, that's not possible. Claire drove them back to Illinois Wednesday night after we found her."

"Did you get confirmation?!"

"Easy there, what the hell crawled up your shorts and died?"

"Phil listen with your ears, Jonny Quest just confirmed by a description and then by image that she was there the day Venus got abducted in NYC and again there today when she tried to kill him."

"Do you even hear yourself? You sound insane. Why ever would she do that, let alone be in Maine or know who he even is? Let alone before we did…"

"That's exactly what I want to ask that cunt Claire, too. I'm supposing Claire has those insights, that manipulative little—"

"Darren!" Phil chided.

"Don't you lecture me on tone- my daughter almost burst stitched hearing this shit! How would Jenna get to Maine?! It has to be Claire, because even she can't lose her kid. So how does Claire know about Jonny and why would she care? Here's my thoughts on that—your bitch ex-wife at some fucking holiday party played happy hostess and met Dr. Quest, schmoozes and they compared kid pictures, and she realized my daughter and his son look near identical, her niece she fucking loathes for interfering in her own gold-digging, all of a sudden those talks with Jenna about how awful my usurping twerp is becomes one of body snatchers—and that's all fine and well if Jenna kills her so when we're gone she keeps all that pie for herself, until the threat is made about the Quests in a public enough of a sphere that she has a two-for-one special—kill Venus with terrorists and show Jenna how she'd been right all along about her being a body-snatcher… except Venus didn't die and now there's another body snatcher, and Jenna feels obliged to get rid of that threat too? Check my time-tables, did Benton go to any holiday parties before Venus hit 8? Was that bitch there?"

"…Oh my god, Darren, what the actual hell are you insinuating about Jenna! She's mentally ill, she can't control that she's schizoidal!"

"But Claire can manipulate and use her—and she is doing it! She has any number of reasons to do it down to spite and greed. Or is it even worse—has she flipped? Is she a goddamn turn-coat in that Gaia debacle?!"

Phil's voice flared as he glared through the line, "I'll call her and ask where they are."

"Don't be a fucking idiot, you damn boy-scout. Call the hospital she's supposed to be at and then have your people find where they're staying in Maine." He hung up, furious. Panting, he eyed Venus as she sobbed silently.

"SHIT! –Sweetie, don't cry…" he approached, his edge worn away.

"It's my fault…?"

"No! No, absolutely not—Jesus, baby you're too quiet sometimes… I didn't mean to say any of that in front of you—"

Her shoulders shook as her voice squeaked in a fit.

"Hey, hey, none of this is on you—sweetie, look at me—" He pulled her gently into a hug, rocking her. "It's all going to be okay…"

She pressed her face into his shoulder, the bridge of her nose over his clavicle as she sobbed, "Is that why she hates me?!"

"…" Darren was kicking himself, how they hell could he have said that full disclosure in front of her. "Jenna's mentally ill, and Claire… well, you know she's a money-hungry bitch."

"But why hurt him?! There's no gain in it for her…"

He rubbed her back, still rocking her.

"Jenna's delusions can be started and reinforced, but they can't be stopped. Claire proving you were a body-snatcher was probably just to control Jenna, but then… when you lived… well maybe she thought both of you are, I don't know, it's a delusion, those don't have to make sense to sane people."

He pulled the quilt from the bed and wrapped her in it while she shivered into him.

"Come on, you have to calm down, this is no good…"

"HOW'M'I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT?!" She hiccupped, body wracked with shakes. "And what's this got to do with Gaia?! The people who tried to kill me—why?"

He lowered his head, the timing of that was too good. She was right, this was coordinated, but he had to get her calmed down. "This is not your fault, and Jonny's safe, and we can deal with Claire, Jenna, Gaia… all of it. All of the things." He said, immensely frustrated.

"They'll blame me and now Jonny'll never want to see me…" She hiccupped again, "…they'll leave me all alone too…"

"No way! That's not true at all, if you make me, I will burst into song to make you calm down."

He studied her trembling shoulders and the feel of her sobbing into his chest as it refused to wane. With a warming hum, he cleared his throat and opened with the operatic rendition of Funiculi Funicula.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Jonny sat on an exam table trying desperately to not collapse, his adrenalin was through the roof.

The sports medicine physician palpated his knee, his dad had omitted that there were actually two appointments.

The hand at his side had shocked him, he'd found an injury Jonny had yet to notice.

"Extend your leg and tell me if it feels better or the same when I hold here."

He held at the mid-quad.

"Better, a lot better." Jonny said, not liking the implications.

"Hmm, I'm going to abduct your leg carefully, tell me if that does or does not hurt."

Gently, but firmly, he pressed Jonny's leg away from his midline. He let out a short yelp, "OW! Ow that's awful!" He panted a breath, he felt his eyes prick wet at the corners.

"Did you hit your hip when you fell?"

"I think so… my knee hit the top part of the down tree, and I hit the water face-first, but I was twisted up so it could've hit the underside…"

"And that gash was from the top of the log?"

"…Yeah."

"It's your ITB, without a scan, I can't say sprain or strain, then swelling needs to be under control. I'm going to give you an injection locally for it. I'll also give you some kinetic tape to minimize the stretch on it, but you'll need to take it easy for a few weeks and then we'll see on follow-up how it's looking. Alternate ice and heat for relief and try to keep off your leg for the next few days at a minimum, and then use the tape."

"…Yes sir." He said nervously, "No crutches though?"

"Rest is more preferred it'll heal faster with you off it entirely."

"…Okay." Jonny wasn't sure how to really do that.

"If you need to get around, we do rent out wheelchairs, you shouldn't need that for more than a week, ask Ella at the front."

The blond eyed his dad, he was oddly quiet. He broke the spell with a controlled, "What grade are you expecting if it is a sprain?"

"It won't require surgery by the looks of it, so if it is a tear, it's minor. The swelling; however, is causing a majority of his discomfort."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

The next appointment was no less stressful, now in a wheelchair and acclimating to that menagerie of maneuverability, he used his upper body strength to keep an iota of dignity instead of letting Race or his dad cart him around like a complete invalid. Words from earlier in the morning hit him with sledgehammer-power. "Hey! No fair—"

The naivety, the childishness of it only made him feel even more unnerved, the juxtaposition of the seriousness of it and she acted like it was a goddamned game of tag to her… he felt cold sweat coat his skin in slime.

"Jonny?" Dr. Quest asked as his son shook his head to return to the room.

"I… I've been having panic attacks of late." Jonny said while not looking at the psychiatrist. "Exercise was helping me with keeping them at bay, or minimizing them, but I've been having a rough couple of weeks, I hurt my leg this morning when someone jumped out at me… which isn't uncommon for me per se, but my reaction was. I've never had a panic attack when I've felt threatened before—it comes later, but this one felt like an asthma attack right away. And all week I've been on high alarm, I haven't been able to sleep, or eat, only exercise and now that's shot while I recover…"

"Besides the attack, which I do wish to discuss more about, what has been feeding your anxiety?"

As diplomatically as he could muster, he said in a neutral affect, "Stress. School, family…" he looked at his dad, certain some things stayed in the family, "…family dynamics, lots of changes lately… and I mean, being threatened—there was a kidnapping threat made, it impacted travel itineraries, schedules, affected school, and made the family get stressed on top of it all…" he kept eying his dad.

"…I'll step outside so you can be more candid, son." He recommended.

"I don't want to be in here alone, no offense, doctor, dad can Race come in and maybe not narc?"

His dad gave him a tempered look but conceded, "I'll tell him it's Top Secret and outside of my clearance."

"Thanks." Jonny said meaning it.

Race replaced Benton in a smooth hand-off, stayed to the corner where Jonny could see him and doing his best to not listen in.

"…I've been really self-conscious lately." He looked at Race and spoke in a very hushed tone to the doctor, "My adopted brother found his birth mother, his daughter moved in with us," he nodded toward Race, "and well… both of them get along great with dad and I'm the fuck-up, perpetually so. We've been butting heads a lot because I'm just so different and between feeling left out and blatantly atypical, every time we get into it I've been feeling more and more anxious. I don't have someone who takes my side, no default neutral party or escape route… so it's suffocating, and then, well- it's literally like that. My chest gets tight and I can't breathe."

"What about your friends outside of home?"

"…I can't talk to them about everything, even my closest friends don't get most things—I mean, I'm gonna sound like such a stuck-up rich kid here, but—but things like always going on vacations to dad's picks for work, and it's always his interests we explore—whether they're shared or not, but any of my unshared interests? Those never get added to the docket, even on family trips not just work trips… then they skip out on my few events because schedule conflicts and it's for work and it's more important… but all of them go to the work thing versus my dumb interest… But dad picks and chooses his projects, when and what he works on… I'm not some spoiled brat but it sounds like it if you say it… and so, I don't."

"You feel undervalued?"

"No, as an object I have quite a sizeable worth, significant even, but that's property value, arguably intellectual property at that… they don't care who I really am as long as my identity's so tethered to who my dad is." He swallowed thickly and hoped to hell Race would actually keep confidence here. He'd never be able to live with himself if his dad heard any of this. "…My mom died when I was really young, and dad's protective, but… sometimes I watch how warm he is with everyone else and how distant toward me he is… it's cold. It makes me feel like a voyeur, like I don't belong here—it was an absolute mistake on mom's behalf to die for my sake." His hand clapped over his mouth. "If I didn't look like her I'd swear I really was switched at birth…"

He felt his chest tightening.

"You are a very open and honest young man." He smiled peacefully at the boy and handed him a box of tissues.

He grabbed two and swiped violently at his face.

"—I just found out I have been part-right, though… I wasn't, but I have a sister…" he shivered, "and well, no one ever told me I had a twin, but here it is, that there was this other part and I just met her… and we clicked instantly… but she and dad haven't at all… and it's just another glaring difference that makes me feel alienated and alien…. I… I dunno… I feel so foreign versus even just a few years ago… and I don't know how I got so lost from where I'd always been."

"These are not fast fixes, Jonny. Truth be told, it's very typical for kids facing so many changes to have difficulty coping, and so anxiety becomes that coping mechanism of why you feel one way. I'd like to have you try an exercise—a mental one. Much like muscles, our minds can strengthen with the use of exercises, so I'd like you to close your eyes."

Jonny did so.

"Imagine you are in a room- one you feel safe in… but in this room, your cluttered feelings, your negative feelings, how you feel unimportant as a person, I want you to put those feels into objects inside this room, and clean up this cluttered room. If you feel knowledge in subjects that disinterest you are negative, close these textbooks and put them away on the shelf, or in a back pack, or a desk drawer—clean the room. We will not throw these things away, but instead of looking at a big mess, I want you to focus on the positives, so put those negative objects away and in a while we will examine these pieces one at a time instead of all at once."

Jonny's shoulders relaxed as he did so.

"Tell me what you see in this room—the messy parts and the cherished objects."

"…I have family photos, some look happy… some not so much… I… I think I should close the album for now."

"Good, and the happy pictures?"

"…On display on the wall."

"Very good."

"…There's lots of junk on the floor, gadgets, computer parts, games—there's a box and space in the closet for them with some clothes.

"What clothes?"

The blond's face fouled, "…A lab coat." His scowl only seemed to intensify, "…I'll leave that in the closet too." He relaxed as the room became less harried. "I made the bed and put the hoverboard underneath it…"

"What else do you see?"

"The rug—I straightened that so it wouldn't make me trip…"

"And what else?"

"I put the maps up, and straightened up my letters and history books, they're on my desk so I can see them."

"How does the room look now?"

"M…manageable…" he let go of the tension completely in his upper body.

"Okay, open your eyes?"

He did so, blinking back tears.

"How do you feel right now?"

"…Relaxed." Jonny smiled, he really, really did.

"Then we will call it a day, I want you to clean your room next time you feel overwhelmed or stressed. And then, we will talk about some of the messes, but only one at a time. Okay?"

"Yes sir."

"I'd like to see you twice a week, do you feel comfortable with that?"

"If dad's okay with it, he's pretty busy…"

"I am sure he can facilitate it, yes. Can you schedule an appointment for this Friday?"

Race headed over, "We'll do that on the way out, for two hours or shorter?"

He smiled, "There is no need to make him feel rushed, if it ends early, that is fine. Jonny, does that work for you?"

He nodded with a neutral expression on his lips.

Not feeling subdued or energetic, the blond looked up at the ceiling, surprised that the thought exercise had such a centering effect. He felt more focused then he had lately, he locked eyes with Race and began to maneuver toward the door, he even felt playful, turning the wheelchair in an S while the adults conversed in the lobby.

Benton observed that calm demeanor, the confidence that had been a stranger of late. Even the plucky cheerful optimism had been on hiatus, not that it was fully restored, but he didn't seem sulky, irritable, or withdrawn.

"How did it go?" Dr. Quest asked pleasantly.

Jonny shrugged, "It felt good to just get a lot off my chest, cathartic maybe? And then that thought exercise really calmed me down."

"Oh?"

Jonny smiled, "I don't think I can talk about it with you right now, but right now I feel a bit more at ease, even with some murderous psycho thinking I want to play tag being around…"

Benton eyed him sharply, "What?"

"From earlier… something she said." He shrugged, "It felt like it was a game to her, or like she felt teased when I ran from her… I don't know why I thought she seemed so old, she seems young to me now."

He kept turning the chair in an S, he stopped to go back to his room to put a stuffed snake away, shoving it into a trunk. He shook his head, imagining a stuffed snake and stuffed rabbit in the same chest. With a disarming smile he added, "Yeah, I'm not up to talking about that just yet either. Is it okay if I just coast on feeling relaxed right now, pop?"

He eyed Race who gave him a mums the word shrug, "…Sure, for now. Shall we head back, then?"

He shrugged, "Probably a good idea," he rolled his neck, this felt vaguely familiar. "Huh." Jonny mumbled.

"Son, what is it?"

"…I've used that technique before…" Jonny thought perplexed, he blinked, "Did I ever go to that doctor before, dad? I don't remember doing so, but… I remember I've made a mental room before, a few times…"

"…He is with I-1, but it was a long time ago." He glossed over, not sure if was wise to remind him of his visits to slews of therapists trying to find any way to get through the night terrors, his mother's death, and a handful of violent kidnappings. He'd simply been incredibly lucky that the I-1 doctor had, on Race's preemptive tactical suggestion, opted to set a practice area in Maine. Though, mostly retired, he did handle PTSD cases for the company as needed, and usually only focused on a few clients at any given time since their demand was typically quite high at onset of trauma.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

With the grounding exercise in place, the return home had been smoother than either Quest had anticipated at the start of the day.

Race, not quite as believing in the calm—thinking it duly preceded the storm, was proven correct in his haunches twice for the day. Phil Korvin was in the living room, he looked about as cheery as a man covered in broken glass and vinegar.

As he saw Jonny wheel in, that contrition only got worse.

"Kiddo, the doctor wanted you resting, want me to set you up upstairs?"

He frowned, thinking that'd probably hurt any which way that happened. "…Can I rest downstairs?"

Race eyed the proximity of the den taking the point. "Were you up to talking to Hadji? The den might be a quiet place for that."

"Sure." Jonny said evenly, not pleased or displeased. Race thought to himself how, ironically, this was the famed neutrality of diplomats that peaceably pleasant blasé.

"Okay, head on over then."

Jonny nodded and made his way to the den, it was a home-theater come movie nights but generally was less in demand than the living room, and closer to the dining room. Once he was certain Jonny was out of earshot, he approached Phil Korvin in the living room.

Hadji and Jessie had been keeping him company in a stoic, cornered manner, both eager to bail with the energy he was putting off. He couldn't blame them.

"Oh, well dad's here now, and I have school work—" Jessie begged off, Hadji looked wounded to not have such an easy out to employ.

"Hadji, Jonny's waiting for you in the den. Why don't you boys finish up that conversation?" Race guided, he knew Benton, Phil, and he were about to have a lovely discussion themselves. Frankly, he was certain Benton would be the actual bear in this, not like Korvin wouldn't be another level of prickly.

"Ah, yes, we most certainly do need to finish that discussion…"

"Just go easy on him, he's okay right now but don't push him too hard." Race reminded firmly.

Ah, back were the days of using that applied psych degree and all of those certifications. He really hadn't missed them.

Dr. Quest eyed Phil, entirely unclear of his personal, unexpected, visit; particularly after that disastrous last meet in Millbrook.

"Mr. Korvin, fancy seeing you here… to what do I owe the pleasure?" Benton crossed his arms.

And the opening shots sounded.

Phil let out an incredibly shaky breath. This was not his preferred way to spend a day. "I flew in from Illinois, my brother had called to say your boy was attacked—how is he?"

The genuine concern there had always been why Benton both liked and trusted the man, he softened. "He's injured his leg, inopportune given his athletic vision of managing a half ironman in a year's time…"

"—He didn't break it, did he?" He looked aghast.

"No, he strained his ileotibial band on his left leg."

Phil nodded, "I see, may I be candid?"

Benton offered a go-ahead wave of his hand as a missive.

"Have you heard the current theory?" Phil was certain he hadn't, lest his legendary temperament would be more prominently displayed.

"There's already a working theory? Even by your standards, that's quite—"

"Jonny made the ID before we left, Benton. He was talking with Venus and described the suspect—" he eyed Phil, that was not the best way to word it, but cat out of bag, continued, "—and photo ID was confirmed."

"Then why didn't you tell me in the car?"

"With Jonny there, in shell-shock? No, that wouldn't do."

"He seemed quite aware, situationally, whomever that is tried to kill him… How would his sister have any insight as to who it was?"

Phil cut in, "Actually, I have on good authority, she hadn't tried to kill him… Namely because he'd be in much worse shape if she had."

Benton looked at him darkly, "You know my son is a survivor, Phil."

He rubbed his forehead, "Of that, I have no doubt, but trust me—I have seen her aftermath. She didn't try to kill him…" he swallowed thickly, "—He positively IDed my daughter, Benton. Jenna is not where Claire said she was, and I have no idea what motivation she has for this but I swear I will find out and stop her."

"—What?!" He groused.

Phil sighed, "We currently are tracking down both Claire, and Jenna. You've seen the cleaned up handiwork," he paused.

"You mean the screwdriver scar?" His tone was clipped.

"Yes, believe me, my niece could tell you exactly what it means when Jenna truly frenzies…"

"No offense, Phil, but Jonny has a lot of good instinct and training…" Race inserted.

"Not comparably, he started Judo at 6. Venus started Krav Maga at 5—and that was her sixth martial art with varying belts by then, and she was trained with small arms, knives, she has more tactical experience at 15 than some of my finest agents at their 9-year badge."

Race's eyes narrowed. "…Phil," he looked over at Benton, he didn't get it yet, the lingo not his own. "Phil, are you saying—?"

Phil looked past Race to bore into Benton's eyes, "Yes, Dr. Quest, your daughter, she sure as hell isn't under protective custody anymore. Yes, my brother is an absolute dote, but she hasn't needed much of any true protection details since she was 6. Alpha-One is not for orphaned kids who need protection, they're talented kids that will make damn good agents for any organization they choose but a majority do stay in house with Alpha, some swing by into Intel-1, it depends on personal ethos… subtle differences between agents and spies and all. So, yes, when I say Jenna did not try to kill your son it's on the credible basis that my perfectionist niece has fared far worse on actual attempts."

The information seemed to short-circuit Benton, his anger desperate to reboot from flabbergasted.

"That screwdriver scar, for one, was after it went through an inch thick hardcover textbook before getting to her neck."

Race wiped a hand down his face, that was three hand grenades now, and he never knew Phil to juggle. What the hell was he doing?!

"Claire is after something, I do not know what, but I do know she's using my daughter as a means to it. Once I find them, they will be immediately removed from the area."

"Your brother is using my child as a SPY?!" He bellowed, "AND your daughter didn't just try to murder my SON?! Because you know her varying degrees of psychosis… that's your working theory?!"

"Oh, the psychosis is not the measuring stick. It's that your boy is relatively unscathed."

Race put himself between both men on that bit of cheer.

"And I am truly sorry he was injured at all, you must believe that—but Jenna is far stronger than she looks and has no concept of it."

"Yes, that was noted in how she injured his leg severely with a singular kick."

"I do not know he reasons for assaulting him, but I do know she escalated, it gets worse as she builds up a delusion and apparently she isn't taking her medication."

"Well, isn't it convenient he'll be home for several days!" He fumed, his son for the first time in months had been showing signs of recovery, was forming a positive relationship with his sister—and now, after he just started to revert to his normal, happy-go-lucky self—that shit-show would now have to be heavily scrutinized. A spy?! And what kind of man would raise a child into that! His son would never forgive him for what he'd have to do.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

At the couch, Jonny propped his leg under several cushions as he spotted his brother ducking into the room.

"Hey Hadji," he smiled toward the older teen.

"Hello Jonny—" he locked sight on the wheelchair.

"—It isn't really that bad, it's just for a few days. I pulled something in my hip on the landing."

"Oh, then at least it is only for a short while. Did you still wish to discuss this?"

Jonny nodded, "I do, I was rotten to you and I'm sorry about that."

"We were both being quite rude to the other. You are no more at fault than I." Hadji countered.

"I appreciate that sentiment, but I took out my frustration on everyone instead of dad when it felt ramped up… and you were trying to do was watch my back. I was being a brat."

Hadji shook his head, "No, you were simply trying to deal with it on your own and I did not give you personal space to do so."

Both at an impasse, they shrugged.

"…Can you tell me why you thought I was being selfish? I want to see your perspective."

Hadji nodded, "It was not about your request for personal space, I do believe you took my meaning as an in the moment comment, I did not understand why you had been the only one to stay behind with Venus and prior to knowing about the fight with father, I had thought it to be more of a selfish intent—and then when you ignored us… your family…"

Jonny frowned, "I really didn't mean it to come off like that, Hadji, you're the best big brother a guy could ask for!"

"…I know this was not your intent, now, but your act… it was as if we were not good enough for you."

He shook his head, "That has never been how I've felt, if anything, I'm the all-American reject, you and Jess are so much closer to dad than I am…"

"I simply do not see that, Jonny."

Jonny's eyebrows shirked, "Well, I do. Both of you get him, you're always helping him and he always boasts about how mature or clever or great you are, how impressive a study Jessie is—how you both help him out so much on projects, how much more he can get done because of how much you put in… I've always been the short-end of that stick—even with that Space Camp years ago—dad bragged about how you handled it and robotics camp, but me? I'd just been whining since I couldn't pull off both."

Hadji looked at his brother with warm, injured eyes. "Because you did not ask for my help to run the test scripts?"

Jonny sighed, his chest was feeling tight again, the energy in this house was a vice.

"—You and Jess have outside people, Hadj. Your moms who can give you true objectivity… but me? I split dad and Race three ways, but Venus and Darren don't want the Quest brand, and it's like I have a person who's truly neutral and has my back, so yeah, I've been talking with her a lot lately, but it's not because I'm turning on you and Jess, you're still my best friends… I dunno, it's hard to say, but she's like leveling the grounds."

Hadji nodded, "Have you realized why Jessie dislikes her?"

He looked down, "…I think so, she probably feels the same way about Venus as I did about her when she came to live here—if she was just visiting, fine, but suddenly I'd been replaced but to be fair, she never lost my dad so I'm only giving her half-credit on it."

"Do you not also think she, as Race's daughter, thinks her suspicious? That she has an ulterior motive?"

"I mean, because of timing? But Korvin and Race vouched for her, and we found her, not the other way around… or I dunno, maybe her jealousy is making her jump to bad conclusions?" He closed his eyes, "Who's here anyway? It feels suffocating."

"Phil Korvin stopped in."

Jonny's eyes shot wide, "What?!" He was reaching for his wheelchair, almost toppling from the couch to get it.

"Is that unexpected given the attempt on your life?"

"Hadj, he doesn't make house-calls… he's the Director of Intelligence 1—besides, dad didn't hear, I don't think—so maybe you guys didn't either… his daughter is the one who attacked me. If he's here, oh gosh… dad's going to wig out!" He managed to finally fumble into his wheelchair, Hadji stabilizing it if only to ensure he didn't actually fall. In second that dragged for hours, he got to the living room entry only to hear Phil blab what he'd already heard—and sure as heck hadn't divulged. That Venus was an agent—or at least a junior one, though he was making it sound worse, implying they were spies…

As Phil alluded to Jonny's subpar skills, he felt gutted. He probably was right in his assessment, Jenna was too crazy to recognize chasing down a person and kicking them into cold running water was paramount to severe harm, but then—what had she been drawing if not a gun?

It hit like a hammer to an anvil, his dad was in a fury—just as he'd been on Friday in the hallway.

The calm façade chipped as his anxiety mounted within his mental room—a storm blowing through, toppling shelves, trashing the tidied-up space.

Race locked onto the shadow in the doorway and cursed the kid's timing.

"…Jonny, are you alright?" Hadji asked in a quiet voice.

The blond shook his head, feeling sick and overwhelmed by the energy of clashing egos in the living room.

He wheeled in anyways, "—D…dad?"

His father spun, shocked by his unexpected presence, he hadn't masked his blind anger which only startled the boy more. Quickly, he adjusted and reached toward him.

"Son—I thought you were resting in the den…" he tried.

"She isn't like that…" Jonny insisted, more to Phil than to his dad, "She isn't a spy…"

Phil wouldn't comment, wouldn't clarify.

"Why are you saying it like that, Mr. Korvin?! You know she's not… she's just an agent, she isn't dishonest—" He felt ice as his father glared at him, it was like a hand was squeezing his heart.

"How do you know she's only an agent, Jonny?" His words were practically blows themselves.

He refused to look away from Phil, though. He had to say it!

"Because she told me about herself. She isn't a spy, neither is her dad…" He saw Phil's eyes soften at that.

"Of course my brother isn't, I didn't say she was, either…"

Jonny looked at his dad, a bubbling fear sprang in his chest, his dad's vitriol was rising, "…Dad, I couldn't say…" his voice recoiled, "…you wouldn't've listened to me…" He swallowed thickly, his room—he had to tend to his room… it was a better place to be in.

"—Jonny?"

It took him several minutes to realize he was being spoken to, his dad mere inches from his face, calling him.

"—Son, can you hear me?"

His eyes opened and closed, focus returning. He felt an uneasy calm in the room—which had changed back to the den somehow. He felt heavy.

"…Huh?"

Benton tried desperately to keep the excess emotion from his voice, the fear, the anger, the frustration, all of it, "Son, are you alright?"

"…Weren't we in the…?"

"That was half an hour ago, you… went far away."

He gently pet Jonny's cheek, the blond turned to look at the hand. "…Is Phil still here?"

"No. He spoke his piece." Benton tried to minimize his own disdain but only half-succeeded, he watched in worry as Jonny's face redrew anxious lines. "…Talk to me, please?"

Tongue darted over dry lips, Jonny tried to coax his memory and voice to function properly. "Dad, they aren't bad people—"

"You think I don't know that?" He offered gently in rebuke.

"…I know you're mad." He said with the confidence of first-hand knowledge. "But how can you be? You know what we did just to survive. How is it so different for them?"

He watched his father's features soften, cave, truthfully.

"I was wrong to ever say you aren't truly diplomatic, son…" He blinked at that odd compliment.

"But let's just talk… why didn't you say who it was who attacked you? Why didn't you tell me?"

"…I thought you and Race both heard, by time my focus was back, though, it was doctor appointments and then back here, it wasn't an intentional omission…"

Benton sighed, uncertain to the truth of that, though he had hardly given his son the confidence to say so. This whole damnable time he'd given him so little a change, hell he never even asked him why he was soaked when he'd come home the other day.

"…Dad?"

He eyed the blond, still making contact with his cheek, "Yes, Jonny?" his tone far gentler now.

With a thick swallow, Jonny started, "Phil's right—about Jenna I mean…" the tension in his body went from spring-loaded coils to jellyfish, and not because he'd relaxed, "I was having a panic attack, so at the time I read her actions all wrong, her mannerisms were playful, hyper and childlike—naively so, like she didn't understand how her actions would be perceived. It was… it was like a game to her." He shuddered.

Benton put his other hand on Jonny's arm to coax him onward.

"…She wasn't reaching for a gun, her pocket was flat, I just assumed that had to be it… I didn't know who she was and I read it like a normal threat…"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jonny."

The blond looked miserable. "…When I called Venus, both she and her dad were so alike in their response, it was verbatim—and he hadn't been in the room for her response…"

The redhead watched, waited for Jonny to come to his point.

"…When did we get so far apart?" The wetted blue orbs looked into him, making eye contact for the first time in two weeks, or at least it seemed that way. "Didn't we used to be close? You said I'm a stranger to you…"

Benton let out a slow breath. "You've always been more of an enigma to me, son. Rachel, your mom, she always knew just what to say or how to approach an issue, but then she was gone and I hadn't learned nearly enough from her… and somewhere along the way, I stopped listening to answers I didn't want to hear, so you stopped providing them, you started saying what I expected or nothing at all, and by time I tried to listen, that was your conditioned answer. And you're right, it has been cyclical… I know it's not a convincing argument that this time it'll be different, not until I prove it, but if it makes you feel more confident in my resolve, I'm more than happy to make a project of it."

"…Please, please don't—I don't think I could take you on a seven-night binder right now."

Benton laughed, "I've divided it up on some projects, I'll have you know."

Jonny frowned, "Dad… are… are you unhappy?"

"…" The older of the pair faltered, his hand withdrew from Jonny's face as he searched for a turn of phrase. "I'm… not an optimist in nature, but generally I am content, in the current state we- and I mean you and I and the whole family find ourselves in, it needs to be improved, and as such I'm not content in what muck I've made of things of late. That you've been left feeling so vulnerable, I'm appalled at myself. You've gone through so much, far more than what's fair for an adult, yet to have endured it all as a child is infinitely worse."

Blue orbs dropped from his held stare, and lo, the skies were overcast again.

"What would make you happy, son? Have you thought about that?"

Realistically, that answer could be 'no,' Benton surmised—the boy really had always been of a happy disposition despite the vileness in the world.

"…You'd think it's stupid." His voice was strained.

"I promise you that I would not." He said fiercely. Jonny frowned, he didn't fully believe it nor did he feel particularly better to risk it, he hugged his own waist anxiously. Benton sighed, he had some answer.

"…I don't want to feel like an outsider, not anymore…"

Gutted, his father pulled him into a hug, he whispered, "We can work on that."

"And I want to know my sister," his shoulders shook, he felt so wary now. The levy was going to give out.

"What else?"

He let out a shaky sob into his dad's chest, "I don't want you to look down on my all the time…"

That stung, and yet he couldn't say he hadn't lived up to that. He rubbed his son's back as he continued to hold him. "What else?"

"…I want to have input that means something—it's always been about… about…" his voice cut off, too tired, too emotionally drained, "…I want to not be so ashamed of who I have to be versus who I am under this roof that I can't stand bringing my friends over after school—I want people to listen and value what I have to say and not just dismiss it as stupid or impetuous or youthful naivety. I want my interests to mean something, even if I'm the only one who likes it."

"Okay. Is there anything else you can think of right now?" Benton said with a timbre of resolve. His son shook his head, "If more is added to that list, that's okay, too. I want you to be happy, and not as a shield, but to actually feel happy, son."

The boy nodded in agreement. "But to do that, can you let us in more?"

"…?" He looked up perplexed.

"Of course when you need privacy, I don't mean then, but you've been defaulting to shutting us out. Locking yourself away, we'll work on not always locking ourselves away too—not in things you feel unwelcomed to or conflicted or coerced to be welcomed to—"

He nodded in understanding, still wrapped in his dad's embrace. "…I'm exhausted." Jonny mumbled faintly.

"Did you want to sleep in here?"

The teen nodded slightly.

"Alright, I'll make sure you're left in peace, do you think you can join us for a late lunch first?"

He shrugged slightly, he truly was spent at both ends, "…I'm too tired, and anyway, I wouldn't keep it down if I ate right now…"

"Alright, then we'll see you at dinner. Do you want help to move over to the couch?"

"…Could… you grab the quilt off my bed?"

"Certainly, and a pillow?"

He nodded, "Thanks…"

Benton pet the boy's cheek and kissed his forehead in an act that had been few and far between as of late. "I'll be right back. Sleep well."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Over the course of two weeks from the second attack, Jonny reflected on the slow changes, even with Jenna in the reeds, his home life was night and day from the start of the school year.

In one week he'd worked his benched ass off to catch up in Art History, and had a solid A-plus in the class. His English Lit High Honors paper was submitted to a thematic publication –oh, and also an A-plus, as were TK's, Matt's, and Bobby's, and their group presentation!

Hell, TK even came to visit—and was vastly disappointed that he was not shown Jonny's dad's secret lab, only his front lab, more than certain the hover-jetskis were in the other room. He expressed his understanding that Jonny's injury was keeping him from being able to use it though despite Jonny's insistence that they simply didn't have those.

"Sure, Bond-Girl, suuuure." TK had said with an incorrigible wink.

Even the semi-weekly therapy sessions with Dr. von Liecht were going well. He felt able to breathe. He hadn't even realized how much he'd been struggling with.

Back to taping his leg, training was still postponed, but he and his dad had checked out some local galleries lately, and a theater troop, he didn't mention that he'd helped out said troop with some set and prop designs or how he'd taken some special FX and makeup tutorials from them, but he thought his dad might've figured something was up when the thespians high-fived him after the small show.

He was waiting for his dad to pick him up after school today to go into town for another session—the routine was leave school, go to therapy, and then just decompress for a while together. So far that had been at a couple galleries or a local show, but today he was hopeful they could lock down the plan for Halloween, and hear if there was news about Jenna's whereabouts. He also wanted to talk more to his dad about Venus and Darren, though he wasn't sure his dad would be thrilled about that.

Deciding against poking the bear, he'd tackle Halloween first, and then ask about Jenna's whereabouts.

With his leg getting stronger, he wanted to just walk around the downtown area for a little, and maybe, just maybe, grab dinner.

That might get vetoed, he still hadn't asked to do that, he was still figuring out what the boundaries of this family time was, was it allowed to interfere with the rest of the family's together time like that? He couldn't say, and was still leery of figuring it out.

He saw the familiar Land Rover pull up to the curb, with a wave he approached, hopped into the front seat to put down his back pack. With a warm smile he gave the customary salutations, "Hey, pop."

His smile sank, his dad looked distracted.

"…Dad? Is everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. It's fine." He said absently.

Jonny's face went neutral. Maybe today wasn't the day to push topics after all. He buckled in, his dad pulled back onto the road. Silently he watched his dad, his own anxiety increasing at the veer from the established.

'Over-Under?' He thought to himself, still trying to maintain what his dad had agreed to… suddenly he wasn't even sure he had agreed to anything at all. "What are you thinking about?" He finally dare, he felt so unsure even as he said it, he steeled himself for the dismissal, instead a warm hand touched his shoulder, thumb contacting exposed skin.

"I'm sorry, it's bad news about your attacker. They tracked down where they'd been staying—"

"—They?"

Benton eyed him, "Yes, they, Jenna Korvin and her mother Claire Westcott, her maiden name, suffice to say, they were hiding in plain sight. They used a ruse, that they were hiding from an abusive family member to keep people from divulging of their whereabouts, but I have on good authority they left that location a few days ago. I just don't know where they are now—no one does."

Jonny shivered, he turned on the seat warmer but the chill was already in him. Were they collected up by Gaia operators? Was there going to be another attack?

"She hasn't attempted further contact, per Phil that is a good sign."

"…Yeah?" Jonny asked, now just as far away as his dad had been at the pickup zone.

"I should have waited until we were at the doctor's office to say anything, son…"

He shook his head, "No, I wanted to ask, anyway."

"—Not to change subjects too much, but was there anything specific you wanted to do afterwards?"

He shivered again, now too distracted by thoughts of ambushes to entertain his earlier plan of walking around in the open. With a mumbled he said, "—make arrangements for Halloween, I guess…"

"We can do that, absolutely. Over dinner?" Benton consciously tried to draw Jonny back out, he really should have waited. He probably just shot any real progress or bonding by bringing it up prematurely.

"Can I turn the heat up? Do you mind?" He evaded.

He obliged, aimed the vents toward his son as he put the default setting to 78°F.

By time he seemed to thaw, they were at the office. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go for dinner, just the two of us?"

"…We could get sushi?"

"We could, is that what you'd like to do?"

He nodded, "There's the one place by the wharf, I think they have bimbimbop too…"

A polite smile passed from father to son, "Now, if they have age-tofu that's a good sign."

"Not as good of a sign as having grilled smelt or squid." His dad ruffled his hair. "What are the others doing for dinner, anyway?"

"Jessie and Hadji were going to head to Rockport with friends, and Race has a briefing with Bennett that's supposed to go long, so I gave Mrs. Evans the night off. Luckily, you wanted food out, you know I'm an abhorrent home-cook."

Jonny laughed, oh, he was. "You don't mind that I want to visit her for Halloween, right?"

"It's okay, son. There's ground rules, and I may just ask Race to stay quasi-local, but it's okay." He smiled a bit more genuinely. "How was school today?"

"Pretty good, Ms. Labinski submitted my theme paper and group presentation for a publication."

"Really? That's impressive- what kind of publication?"

"Thematic essays of popular theater." He blushed, he was pretty proud of that one.

"When would you hear if it's accepted?"

"…Earlier this afternoon." He smiled unabashed, "She told us ours were picked up, all of them for Wicked and Wizard of Oz, it may even go into a cliff-notes update," he paused, "Not the whole paper, just the themes we discussed."

"Still, congratulations."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, "Thanks."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

In a slouch-back chair, Jonny went through the self-hypnosis recording as his father spoke with Dr. von Liecht outside.

"He is very agitated today." The psychiatrist noted.

"Yes, I updated him about his attacker, and it upset him."

The older man nodded, "And that update was?"

"Her mother was using the cover that they were lying low from an abuser—in law enforcement, the owner of the hotel had a similar experience so she was quite accommodating."

"Were they located?"

"No, they had left days ago. We haven't been able to track her movements, she has significant capital at hand and who knows if she has outside help…"

"The ex-wife of a spook picks up some tricks of the tradecraft, hm? I see." He glanced into the room, "I need to step in, excuse me."

Benton nodded, eyed his son in a semi-conscious state.

As the teen's psychiatrist walked him through the messes in his mental room, he picked up on the young man's apprehension.

"Jonny, what are you looking at?"

His breathing hitched, "The snake—it's moving… and it's dragging some cable…"

"Remember, nothing in your room can hurt you. You can pick it up and put it away, it is at your control."

"No! I can't—it's… it's too…" he gasped.

"Do you see any gloves or a blanket? You can use these to corral this, yes?"

Jonny nodded, lips trembled as he focused at the task at hand and mentally constructed a way to wrangle the snake into a tank, his body relaxed ever-so-slightly.

"Did you put it away, Jonny?"

"I put it in a tank, I can see it… that cable was edge wire."

"Hm, interesting. I'd like for you to take some calming breaths, is anything else out of place in your room?"

As Jonny described the room, his focus kept returning to the tank, a clear stressor.

"Alright, I think we should leave your room and talk about this, you are waking up now, on the count of 10 you will be back with me in my office—1, the lights are dimming in your room, 2, they are off, 3, the sounds are quieting, 4, they are still, 5, you are walking out of the room, 6, you are locking the door, 7, you have your key in your pocket and are walking through the corridor, 8, you are at the door to my office, 9 you are in your seat, and 10—open your eyes and here we are."

The blond blinked his eyes tightly shut then open, there was a glass of hot chamomile tea before him.

He eyed the room. "Your dad is outside, is that who you are looking for?"

He nodded mutely.

"Do you want him to sit in on this part?"

Another wordless nod answered him as the boy sipped the hot tea.

"Alright, I will return momentarily, is the tea to your liking? It has one sugar and a splash of milk."

"Th-thanks, it's just right." He said then took another sip.

A moment later, his dad stood behind his chair, two firm hands on his shoulders kneading at the tension there.

Jonny looked up at his dad then back at Dr. von Liecht.

"We've spoken about the attack before, but Jonny, today I would like to focus on how you felt during the attack, to describe the object in your room."

He gave a shaky nod, he felt a chill, sipped more tea to chase it back.

"I felt scared—mad, frustrated, but… but also now, sad… like not that I had to deal with it, but pity…" he laid out.

"What do you feel about your attacker?"

"—There's two." He said flatly, "The girl who was manipulated into it, and then the puppeteer behind it."

Benton's eyes bored into the back of his son's head.

"—Darren told me about Claire… she's so awful…"

"What did Darren say?" The doctor looked to the boy and then to his father to reminded him not to interrupt.

"Did you know Claire's motives? It's all about money and power—her kid's this perfect pawn for her! If she wants all that money, she has obstacles though…"

"Is that what Darren said?"

"No, he said Claire's a…" he glanced at his dad, "well, direct quote, a 'money grubbing cunt.'"

"And how did you come to your conclusion?"

Jonny swallowed thickly, "He told me that Claire's money happens to be in a trust—the Korvin family trust, but she's not a direct beneficiary. Only Phil, Darren, Jenna, and Venus are… she was written out of it when she ran her mouth about blood relations and how Venus was some… well, let's just say she doesn't think adopted kids count. She has access to the money through Jenna, though. I dunno if you know this, but apparently Darren was suicidal before he'd adopted my sister… when his fiancée and son died… and Claire was trying to help him along, he didn't say it in so many words, but how he talked about it painted a pretty clear picture. But then he turned the corner, my sister being why."

Benton watched in amazed silence.

"—But if Darren were to go first, the way he set up the trust, it wouldn't go back to the Korvin family at all. It'd be her assets, so if anything happened to her, then it'd go to her next of kin… and well," he pointed to himself, "she has that now, doesn't she? But if she goes first, it's back in Darren's shares, two birds with one stone, he was suicidal before, he'd be it again… he'd have nothing to live for, or at least that's what Claire thinks, and then she'd have access to all that money through her daughter, uninterrupted."

His chest constricted.

"So her kid can't think for herself and is just a pawn, a violent piece on the board she can lock away whenever."

The doctor licked his lips, he had to push the gambit, "Do you sympathize with her?"

Jonny laughed darkly, "I'd say she has it way worse… but… a little I guess." He glanced back at his dad, frowning. "It's getting much better now, but it's still hard to be fully open."

"It's alright, son." Benton whispered, still kneading his taut shoulders.

"Why do people use people like that? It's rotten!" He said back to his dad, not understanding the injustice.

"—Probably because they don't think of it like that. She sounds like an opportunist, and who's to say what else is at play."

Jonny's frown deepened, "Why is it so cold today?"

"Would you like a throw blanket? More tea?"

He shook his head, "No thanks, doctor."

Hands shifted to the sides of his arms to rub in some warmth, his own arms curled across his waist.

"What else do you feel about the attack?" The doctor coaxed.

"…It'll happen again. Until she meets her goal, Jenna—not Claire, and that's what scares me most. I don't know Jenna's goal, but what if she really, really hurts me or worse? And I don't think she'd even realize it…"

"She won't get that chance." Benton said in fierce conviction.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Over dinner, the Quest men enjoyed a hotpot of stewed eggplant, sweet potatoes, shiitake mushrooms, and wagyu beef cubes, a split of sushi and sencha green tea.

Jonny used the chopsticks with precision to snag pieces of sweet potato and fish cake from the broth.

"Were you up to talking about the travel itinerary?" Dr. Quest asked in a smooth measure. "There's very real safety concerns to address."

"Yes sir." Jonny said eagerly, he smiled thinking how Darren'd said to never call him that, but he knew this one didn't sound pissy at all.

"For starters, about curfew—"

"On Halloween?!" Jonny blinked.

"If you check in regularly, it can be stretched as late as 2AM, but you've only just recently re-acclimated your sleep-cycle to a normal tilt, so nothing extreme."

"Okay, easy."

"Trackers and cell-phones—I want to be able to reach you at any moment, and vice-verse."

"So if I keep my watch on me and my phone on me, it's okay?"

"Exactly, granted, it's Halloween so I won't try to bother you, but I do plan on keeping tabs. No delinquency, young man. You're to be on top behavior, no binging on all the junk food I wouldn't let you have, this isn't a pass weekend."

Jonny nodded, "Of course, that's a given…"

"And you're to check in regularly with Darren, he's your adult supervision, so keep him in the loop even if you kids head out alone… and no parties, no underage drinking, I mean it, I expect you to be on your best behavior. I'm trusting you to be an ambassador of sorts for our family and our values. And on that subject, I'm also trusting you to make up your school work."

"Make up my school work?"

"Bookend the weekend, Darren can show you those online programs."

"REALLY?!" Jonny stood up, winced at his leg then beamed in a perpetual smile.

"Yes, really. Sit down."

Jonny nodded, sitting back down.

"In return, I expect you to be the best representation of our family, polite language, conscientious guest, be a proper up-standing young man, and take some photos."

"Deal!"

"You'll be flying commercially, Race will accompany you to JFK, and then you'll transfer to Stewart airport where Darren will pick you up and drop you off."

"Did you already arrange the flights?"

"Yes. I had to synchronize the schedules, you'll want to pack light."

"—Can I bring an album?"

"Be careful with it, and bring it back."

Jonny nodded, "Okay," he paused still positively glowing, "thank you, dad—thank you so, so much…"

"It's time you took your own vacation, son. You're welcome."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

"Hey sweetie, waking up now?" Darren asked, hovered over the young girl sprawled in her bed. She'd knocked out some pillows, twisted her sheets and kicked free her quilts, even spilling two laptops to the ground in her battle along with several sheets of paper- schoolwork he assumed, and DVDs.

Groggily, she eyed him, he looked far more energetic than she felt.

As he took in the carnage he snagged Mr. Cottontail off the shelf and handed it to her, "I'm not supposing you'd tell me what that's about?"

She gently curled around the threadbare keepsake, sniffled. "I don't remember… do I have to take these pills still?"

"…Let me check your stitches?"

She nodded as she leaned back and rolled up her pajama top to just below her bust.

Darren peeled off the crisp white gauze pad and smiled at the work. "Well congrats, you're now off the shower restriction."

"Finally!" She smiled excitedly.

"You still aren't cleared for your morning routine. But I was wondering if you'd kindly accept my karaoke challenge."

"And what's that? To crush you in public domain?" She smiled viciously.

"Aw, sweetie, we'll get your ears checked." He pet her cheek, "But no, not publically, you're still too rocky for that princess. I think we can half-dose you and if you can manage the stairs without too hard a time, we can duel here."

"—But there's no unbiased judges here."

He scoffed, "That's no different than in public either, sweetie." He bopped her nose affectionately. "As for the meds, you can't just not take them, so we'll ease you off the painkillers, but you've gotta finish the antibiotics and take it easy until next week—and the reg won't start till mid-November."

He poked her flat stomach carefully, "No rush there, and I'll be sure to help you and your brother with all that Halloween candy."

"Wait—WHAT?!" She beamed, sitting up rapidly, "You heard it's a go!" She demanded.

"Easy there! Yep, I have his full itinerary," he laughed softly at her response, "including the joke of 'approved foods list,' damned if he wasn't kidding about how bad he has it—"

"Huh?" Her head tilted in confusion.

He pulled the list and started reading from in, "Approved snacks include fresh fruits, veggies, no high-fructose corn syrup, no chips, no high-fat or excessively processed foods, whole milk in moderation, no chocolate milk or added sugars…" he laughed, "Dear god, he's that skinny because he's eaten like a rabbit." Darren chided.

"—But then, if you look at approved foods on the list—how can he have all that processed crap but not chips and soda?" Venus gawked.

"Out of sight, out of mind, not like I'd bring in any of this crap—but we can have candied apples and pork-roast, then some butternut squash soufflés, we can't go too heavy handed though, he'll have to be willing to go back after 4 days."

Venus smirked, "Technically…"

He bopped her nose, "Seriously, take a shower, but when you're really ready to come downstairs let me know. I want to see how you handle the steps."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, fine… what's for breakfast?"

"Oh, I'm putting you to work today…" he ruffled her hair with controlled precision. "You know, after I trounce you in karaoke."

"Since when do winners cook?" She shot back. "You'll just have to make something you are—how about French toast."

[TBC in Chapter 3.]

A/N: Thanks everyone who's reading this! It's a long story and there's still a few more parts left. Sorry for any typos/minor errors! Please feel free to hit up the review icon and make a girl's day.