Tomas thought he must've been mistaken. His mouth opened in protest, whole body shaking. The car almost came to a halt as Marcus grabbed his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"Tomas!" he called and by the urgency in his voice it wasn't the first time.

"Drive," Tomas croaked. "Just... drive!" he said with more force than he had any right to use. To his surprise Marcus listened and soon the car was driving down the road, leaving the school and all its darkness behind.

Tomas leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. His heart was beating too fast and too loud, almost drowning out his own thoughts.

'What the hell was that? Was it real? Was father Simon real and if so what was he doing at his school?' Tomas's head was full of questions and the dawning horror of the possibility that maybe the things he saw had some basis in reality. But no, that wasn't something Tomas was ready to accept, or even think about.

It must've been just a product of his imagination. Maybe he really crossed the line of too many nights without sleep and didn't even realize that. He read somewhere hallucinations were one of the signs of sleep deprivation... suddenly Tomas cursed himself for not asking Marcus to take a look. Maybe he would've told him there was no priest filled with evil patting the shoulder of his principal.

"Are you okay?" Marcus asked after a moment and Tomas risked a look his way. He didn't seem angry, only concerned.

"Yeah. Sorry. I... I thought I saw something, but..." Tomas rubbed at his eyes tiredly. A quick look in the rearview mirror told him he looked like a raccoon that spent the last hour crying. He cringed at his own image and turned his head away from Marcus, towards the passing road. "It was nothing. Probably just not enough sleep," he muttered, feeling he owed the man at least some explanation.

"Any reason why you're not sleeping? Marcus asked and Tomas shrugged.

"Stomach bug."

Marcus snorted.

"Right. Didn't you forget who came up with that lie?"

Tomas looked at him, curious.

"Why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

"You didn't have to lie to the nurse. Any other teacher would've told her I had a fit, whether I liked it or not."

This time it was Marcus who shrugged.

"Maybe I don't think it was a fit at all," Marcus said carefully and Tomas straightened in the seat, his previous thoughts and worries coming back with a rush.

"What else would it be?" he asked, feigning only mild interest even though he felt like jumping out of his skin.

"I'm not sure yet," Marcus sighed and Tomas could tell he didn't want to breach the topic in the car, but he really didn't care.

"Well, what are the options?" Tomas pressed, unable to let it go even though he was scared of the answer.

Marcus stayed silent, obviously thinking of what to say. The silence itself seemed to be enough of an answer for Tomas though.

"You think it's all just in my head, right?" Tomas said, anger and disappointment coloring his voice, but in the end giving way to weariness and acceptance. "You think I'm crazy, a freak. Just like everyone else."

For a second the car sped up as Marcus obviously put too much pressure on the gas pedal then it slowed down almost to a crawl. When he turned towards Tomas, he was visibly trying to suppress anger and Tomas almost cringed as he saw the blue streaks of electricity in Marcus's usual calming gold color.

"First off," Marcus spoke with a surprisingly calm tone, even though it carried an edge of authority. "I don't want to hear you using that word ever again Tomas. Not when you're talking about yourself or anyone else. Understood?"

Marcus looked at Tomas imploringly and waited until Tomas gave a very reluctant nod.

"Second, no, of course I don't think you're a freak. How can you even say that?"

"'Cause I am," Tomas muttered under his breath but obviously not quietly enough. Marcus gripped the wheel harder. It was obvious he wanted to stop the car, but there was no good place for that. Tomas hoped he would just let it go, but of course Marcus didn't.

"Why do you think you're a freak Tomas?" he asked after a moment and Tomas could see the blue sparks vanishing, turning into grey dullness. Marcus looked tired and Tomas hoped it didn't mean he was tired of him. The fact he could essentially see Marcus's emotions without having to look at his face was just a reminder of exactly what was wrong with him.

"I'm not blind," Tomas said deprecatingly, although the feeling wasn't aimed at Marcus. "I see things."

'More things that I will ever admit.'

"I saw the way the other kids were looking at me."

Marcus sighed.

"They were just startled. A bunch of teenagers that don't know better. They'll get over it," Marcus tried to placate him, but Tomas shook his head.

"They won't. I saw the same look in my mother's eyes after one of the fits. I don't know what she saw or what I did, but... she sent me away then. After Abuela," Tomas swallowed, still feeling the tearing pain inside his chest every time he remembered his sweet old Abuela, dying in that hospital room, alone. Marcus put a hand on his shoulder and Tomas looked up at him.

"After I returned from Mexico, she still looked at me that way."

"What way?"

"With fear. My own mother... she never 'got over it'. So how can I expect something different from strangers?"

'How can I expect anything else from you?' was the true question, because Tomas couldn't care less for the opinion of his class mates, but for some reason the opinion of the man sitting next to him seemed to matter as much as his own mother's.

And by some miracle, the man could probably read his mind.

"I'm not that easy to scare off, Tomas. I promise." Marcus said with such conviction that Tomas felt a bit of hope surge inside him.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Tomas replied without hesitation, surprising both of them.

"Then trust me with this. You are not a freak and I will never become afraid of you. Quite possibly afraid for you, but never of you. Do you understand?"

Tomas felt his throat closing off and couldn't find the breath to answer, so he just nodded. Marcus smiled, accepting the answer. Just like that the mood in the car lifted a bit and they spent the rest of the ride in comfortable silence, each lost in their own mind.


When they arrived at the house, Marcus barely suppressed the urge to just grab Tomas by the arm and lead him right towards the guest room. The boy seemed to be doing okay in the car after their talk, but once he stood up he looked about ready to fall. Marcus was sure to walk within catching distance, biting his lip when Tomas stumbled but caught himself in time. With a sigh, Marcus closed the door behind him, relieved to be home - and to be able to call a place his home after so many years without one.

"You can lie down on the couch or get some sleep in the guest room," Marcus spoke, catching Tomas by surprise. The boy looked at him with owlishly huge eyes, seemingly not even realizing he was waving in the air.

"Sorry?" Tomas asked as if unsure he heard right.

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"You look half asleep already, Tomas. The nurse told you to rest. So go upstairs, or you can sleep here. Up to you."

For a moment Tomas looked at Marcus as if he'd grown a second head, then when he realized Marcus was being serious he looked offended, almost like a petulant child. Marcus had to smirk, because he could just imagine the fifteen year old boy crossing his arms and stumping with his foot screaming it was not his naptime. The humor of the situation however quickly evaporated as Tomas seemed to stagger and had to catch his balance on the nearby table.

"I'm fine," he growled, holding up a hand before Marcus could even cross the room. "If I wanted to nap, I could've gone home," Tomas said and slowly put his backpack on the table. "I already missed the dictate. I should learn at least something today." He started ruffling through his bag, grimacing when he saw that Marcus indeed wasn't kidding and that all his stuff was just thrown in without care.

Marcus was about to argue there was no way Tomas could retain anything in his brain in his current state when he noted the barely contained yawn and the slightly shaking hands and rethought his strategy.

"Okay, suit yourself. But I need to get me some coffee and food first. I'm not tutoring anyone with grumbling stomach."

Tomas blinked, surprised and relieved that he didn't have to fight. He even managed a small smile at Marcus.

"Do you want something to drink or eat?"

"Can I get some coffee too?" Tomas asked with hope. The caffeine might keep him awake a bit longer. Marcus snorted.

"No way. You can have tea, water or juice. Pick or leave it."

"Black tea then?" Tomas said and Marcus gave him a stink eye, knowing well he was still trying to get at least a bit of caffeine into his system.

"Don't push it."

"Water's fine then, thank you," Tomas conceded with a sigh and pulled out some of his books. Maybe he could work on his history homework while Marcus was off playing cook.

Marcus watched as Tomas settled down on the couch with a book in one hand and pencil and notepad in the other. Satisfied that he was at least sitting down and not in danger of knocking his head on something while left alone, Marcus headed for the kitchen. He prepared himself a strong black coffee and some ginger ale and water for Tomas, thinking it would help settle his stomach.

Marcus padded silently towards the living room and peeked in. Just like he expected, Tomas's head was slumped down and he was leaning precariously towards one side. The pencil and notepad already slipped from his hands but he didn't seem to notice. With a sigh, Marcus headed for the closet and pulled out a spare pillow and blanket, then returned to the couch. He put the pillow down and gently pulled the book out of lax fingers. Tomas muttered something under his breath and Marcus paused.

"It's okay, Tomas. Rest. You're safe," he said softly and maneuvered Tomas into a lying position, lifting his feet onto the couch and covering him with a blanket. All through this Tomas didn't utter a word of protest or let on that he was awake. But as Marcus tucked him in and ran a hand over his hair, Tomas seemed to lean into the touch.

"Sleep. You're safe here," Marcus whispered, then headed back to the kitchen. He was almost out of the room when he heard a soft 'Gracias' from the couch.


When Peter walked into the house, it was to a complete silence. It surprised him a bit, because he knew Tomas was supposed to be over for his tutoring lesson. He headed straight towards the living room and was about to say hello, when he spotted the sleeping form on the couch. Marcus was nowhere to be seen but there was evidence of his presence in the form of a half empty coffee mug on the table and a sketchpad forgotten in the chair. Peter sighed and looked at the boy lying on the couch, half the blanket on the floor. It would've been an adorable picture if not for the frown marring Tomas's face and the dark circles visible under his eyes. With a sigh, Peter leaned down and picked up the blanket and threw it over Tomas where it had previously been, then headed for the kitchen.

He had to pause at the door when he saw Marcus at the stove, humming quietly to himself as he was stirring something in a pot. Marcus looked relaxed and right at home and Peter couldn't be happier. He vividly remembered how skittish the man was the first few weeks when they moved in together. He touched every part of the house, every little trinket, but treated them all as if he was just a guest. It took some time until he realized it was his home and there was no need for that. Peter crossed the kitchen, this time making enough sound to warn Marcus of his presence before he wrapped his arms around him in a hug.

"Campbell's soup? Really? Why did I bring Chinese then?" Peter asked, eyeing the empty can on the counter and taking a whiff of the familiar smell of chicken soup.

Marcus leaned into the hug, turning his face in for a kiss.

"I wanted something easier for Tomas. But I'm also hungry for some Kung Pao."

"Mhm... so tell me darling, are you trying a new method of tutoring?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"You know, the one where you sleep with the book under your pillow and magically absorb the knowledge through osmosis?"

"Does that work?" Marcus asked with a grin, but that quickly vanished. "The kid had a hard day. Needs all the sleep he can get."

Peter hummed, resting his chin on Marcus's shoulder while he was stirring the pot.

"I thought you would at least consult me first before we adopt a kid," Peter joked but the humor left him as he felt Marcus tense. Peter pulled back and leaned against the counter.

"What's going on, Marcus?"

Marcus turned off the stove and sit down on the table, an action that would usually drive Peter crazy, but right now he didn't even notice.

"The kid is driving himself to an early grave and frankly, I'm not sure what to do about it," Marcus said with a sigh as he ran his hands over his face. Peter gave his shoulder a light squeeze then sat down right next to Marcus so their shoulders were touching.

"Tell me what happened and we will figure it out."

So Marcus told him about what happened, how it freaked him out to see Tomas with that white fog covering his eyes and unable to bring him back for such a long time.

"He looked so much like that homeless woman I saw few months after Gabriel... I was half expecting him to start talking with a different voice." Marcus was clearly upset and Peter wished he could just make his troubles go away but knew it didn't work that way.

"Are you sure it was the same? Tomas didn't say a word... maybe it really was just a fit."

"No, it was not. I'm not making this up, Peter," Marcus turned to him with fire in his eyes. "I can feel the difference. Something is trying to use that kid as a conduit and I'm not sure whether it's good or evil, but it isn't doing him any favors."

"Did you try actually asking him about it?"

Now Marcus gave him a glare that clearly said he thought Peter was trying to humor him. Peter almost laughed at the look, but in a moment of self-preservance he bit his tongue and kept silent. Marcus sighed.

"Of course I asked, right after the first time it happened. Whole lot of good that did. Tomas said he didn't remember anything and that was the end of conversation."

Peter rolled his eyes.

"You're both stubborn fools. He barely knew you then, of course he wasn't going to be spilling his guts to you. It takes time... and the right question."

"Well Sherlock, why don't you ask him? I'm a bit leery of giving him a third degree when he can barely walk straight."

Peter had to admit this might not have been the best time, though he also wondered if maybe Tomas could let something slip more easily with his guard down. It wasn't exactly ethical, mind, but Peter was a curious man and seeing how invested Marcus was in the kid made him want to get some answers as well.

„Okay, how about this? You set the table, I'll go change and we can wake up the sleeping beauty and try to get some food into him. Maybe he will feel more talkative after the sleep he had."

Marcus gave Peter a look full of appreciation and a gentle kiss on the jaw.

"I knew there was more to you than just dashing looks," he said with a smile and nudged Peter off of the table.

"You just figured that out? I'm hurt," Peter put a hand over his heart in mock hurt then headed out of the kitchen before Marcus could hit him with a kitchen towel he was brandishing threateningly.

A bit later, after a quick shower and having changed into more comfortable clothes, Peter headed back down the stairs. Marcus was obviously successful in waking up their guest, if the disgruntled grumbling was anything to go by.

"I'm not hungry," Tomas drawled his voice scratchy and accent more pronounced than usual.

"It's soup. You don't have to be hungry for that." Marcus argued and Peter entered the kitchen just in time to see Tomas rolling his eyes.

"Don't worry, Tomas. It's from a can. Marcus wouldn't try to poison you," Peter said and Tomas jumped, startled.

"Oh, hello Mr. Osborne," Tomas said and Peter grimaced.

"For the fifth time, please call me Peter?" It was the same each time they met. Tomas didn't have trouble calling Marcus by his name the moment the man offered, but God help it, when Peter did the same Tomas looked like he just asked him to call the Pope John.

"Sorry, Mr... Peter."

Marcus snickered and put a bowl of soup in front of Tomas, along with a glass of water.

"Mr. Peter... that makes me feel like you should be the one teaching not me, darling," Marcus said as Peter settled on his chair and started digging through different boxes of food. He could feel Tomas's eyes on him so he looked at the boy and felt a twinge of concern. The kid really didn't look good, even after few hours of sleep. He was half leaning on the table, testing the soup with his spoon but not really taking a sip. Peter gave him a pointed look.

"If you don't like the soup, there's plenty of Chinese to go around. Fried rice with chicken?" Peter offered one of the boxes to Tomas but if possible the kid turned a bit greener around the edge and shook his head.

"No, thanks. I... really don't have much of an appetite."

Peter and Marcus exchanged a glance and Tomas seemed to realize there was some secret communication between them, because he suddenly dug into his soup, trying to look for the lack of better word more lively.

For a moment there was just the sound of cutlery hitting the plates and several pointed looks from Marcus, as if he was asking Peter to start talking. Peter rolled his eyes and took a bite of a spring roll then turned to Tomas.

He knew better than to ask what kind of day he had, but there were many other topics he was curious about. He and Tomas had barely talked before, each time the conversation got somehow turned to Latin and the lesson Marcus was trying to teach him. But now there was some time and the tutoring session obviously wasn't on either of their minds. Peter wanted to ask about Tomas's parents, about his sister or about Mexico. Peter has never been to Mexico.

"What are your plans for the summer?" Peter asked instead and instantly saw the corner of Marcus's lip twitching in a smile, one eyebrow raised as if in a question 'Really? That's your great interrogation tactic?'

Luckily Tomas didn't seem to notice as he was focusing on idly playing with his food. The question though at least made him raise his head and something like hope appeared in his eyes.

"Olivia said I can find a summer job. That would be great. I mean... it would help. And I wouldn't have to be stuck in the apartment all summer doing nothing."

Peter frowned. Since when was a 15 year old kid so eager about the prospect of getting a job?

"Oh. Is there something you want to buy?" That was the most logical reason. "A computer or one of those gaming consoles everyone is raving about?"

But Tomas shook his head and looked at Peter as if he was the one being silly.

"I already have a computer for school work. It's old but as long as it works, I don't want to change it."

"So what do you want to save up for?"

"Rent?" Tomas said as if it was the most logical answer and Peter was being purposefully obtuse. "Food or school supplies. Take your pick." Tomas shrugged and Peter felt the food go sour in his mouth. Marcus looked at Tomas and then at Peter in such way that Peter could almost hear his thoughts: 'See what I have to face several times a week? Can we adopt him now?'

„Well, nothing wrong with working during the summer. I remember when I was twelve and wanted to get money to buy a new bike. I swear I moved a lawn every day for the whole two months. Ended up missing a whole lot of fun with friends."

"Did you get the bike at least?"

"Nah. I was hiding my saved up money in a box under my bed. Turned out my younger brother kept sneaking in and taking the change to buy popsicles and comic books," Peter laughed at it now, though when he figured out at the end of summer that the money didn't add up and it was his brother's fault, he was anything but happy.

"What did you do?" It was Marcus who asked, never hearing the story before. Peter shrugged.

"I chased Matty around the house with a baseball bat, until dad put a stop to that. We both got a hiding and I spent the last week of summer sulking and not speaking to my brother. Well, I tried, but we were sharing a room and he was eight... there was no stopping him from talking." Peter laughed and both Tomas and Marcus smiled.

"So you didn't get the bike?"

"Oh, I got it for Christmas. It was one of the coldest Chicago winters at that so I had to spend the next three months waiting to take it out for a proper test drive. But man, I did love the bike."

"What about your brother? Did you forgive him?" Tomas asked softly.

"Of course. He was my kid brother. I even let him ride the bike once or twice." Peter thought back to that first ride, remembering clearly that Matty's feet couldn't reach the ground but he refused any help getting on the bike. He managed to circle their parking lot before he lost his balance and made a spectacular fall. Still, the kid was stubborn and even with scraped knees hopped back on the bike. Peter felt a sudden wave of nostalgia and thought that maybe he should call his brother. They haven't talked for several months now, what with Matt moving out of the States and settling down in England.

Peter felt Marcus's leg nudging his own, pulling him from his thoughts. He blinked and gave Marcus a small smile thinking maybe they could actually take a few days off during the summer and fly to London. It was time Marcus got to know all of Peter's family.

"I don't think Olivia would be as forgiving if I tried to take her car," Tomas peeped up and Peter was happy to see he was smiling. The bowl of soup in front of him was almost empty as well.

"Well, I think you can do much more damage with a car than a bike," Marcus said with a smile, but Tomas shook his head.

"She wouldn't even let me sit behind the wheel," he grumbled. "I know I won't be able to get a driver's license anytime soon, but would be nice to at least know how to drive."

Peter and Marcus exchanged a look, knowing Tomas was right. If he was suspect to fits, for whatever reason, there was no way he would get a license.

"Hm, maybe if you'll find some spare time during your busy summer schedule," Marcus started with a grin and Tomas raised his head with a frown, but it quickly disappeared as Marcus continued: "I know of an old abandoned air field a bit of a way out of town. It's a pretty long and wide strip of empty road. No better place to try out some driving."

"You would let me drive your car?" Tomas asked in disbelief and Peter had to take a sip of water to hide his grin at seeing the pure joy on the kid's face.

"A car... Peter's old truck. It's a bit sturdier than what we're driving now."

At this Peter almost choked on the water. He swallowed wrong and started coughing. Marcus gave him a few slaps on the back with a glint in his eyes.

"Careful, dear. My CPR skills are a bit rusty."

Peter rolled his eyes then cleared his throat.

"Sturdy isn't the word I would use for my truck, but it is definitely more fit to drive over some dusty road. If you manage to start the engine, that is."

Tomas's smile faltered a bit but Marcus waved it off.

"Don't worry, the old lady always starts for me. It's Peter who's having issues with her."

"I would take offense at both statements, but they happen to be true," Peter admitted, happy he was riding his new SUV.

Tomas beamed.

"I can't wait! Thanks, Marcus," Tomas said, then turned towards Peter. "I promise I won't crash it."

"If you do, I think explaining that to your sister would be a bigger issue," Peter pointed out and Tomas grimaced. He wasn't sure if Olivia would even allow it, but summer was still a few weeks away and well... what Olivia didn't know wouldn't hurt her. As long as Peter and Marcus didn't ask outright for her permission. Which reminded him of his sister and Tomas looked at the time in mild panic.

"Oh damn, I need to call Liv."

"Is she expecting you for dinner?"

"No... yeah. I'm not sure." Tomas started looking for his phone, realizing it wasn't in his pockets and slightly panicking. "Where's my phone?"

"In your backpack. You left it on your desk before," Marcus said calmly. Tomas looked up and relaxed a bit. Last thing he needed was to lose his phone. Olivia would surely kill him.

"Relax. She probably isn't home yet or she would've already called you. You can finish the soup, no?"

Tomas didn't look like he had any interest in the soup, but eased back onto the chair.

"Doesn't she know you're here for tutoring?" Peter asked, curious about the previous panic. Tomas looked away a bit sheepishly.

"She thinks I'm at a study group. I'm not sure she will even come home today, she has a night shift, but sometimes when she gets the time, she comes home for a quick dinner."

Peter frowned.

"So you'll be alone tonight?"

"I'm fifteen. I'm not scared of staying alone," Tomas answered a bit touchily and Peter could see the teenage pride manifesting.

"I wasn't insinuating anything of the kind. Just thought leaving a fifteen year old alone on a Friday night spelled trouble."

Tomas deflated a bit.

"I'm not a partying type. You don't have to worry about that."

Peter nodded and Marcus cleared his throat.

"Yeah, but isn't it quite boring?" Marcus asked and winked at Peter. "Why don't you stay here? We have already planned a movie night. There will be pop corn and cheetos."

"And lots of soda," Peter added with a grin. "That's not a bad idea. You can actually help us decide which movie to watch. I want to introduce Marcus to the Fast and Furious franchise, while he's stubbornly pushing the Police Academy."

Tomas blinked, obviously taken aback with the offer.

"What... like... a sleepover?"

"I wouldn't know, I never had a sleepover in my life," Marcus commented. "But I do need some support with the movie choice," he winked at Tomas this time. Tomas still looked surprised.

"Wouldn't I bother you? Didn't you have other plans?"

"I wouldn't have offered, Tomas. There's a perfectly good guest room you can sleep in and Marcus or I can drop you off at home in the morning."

"But... why?"

"Why not?" Peter shrugged.

"It sure beats staying home alone on a Friday night. Especially after the day you had," Marcus added gently and Tomas frowned in thought. He looked like he just remembered something that put a damper on his mood.

"But you don't have to," Peter quickly interjected. "If you'd rather go home and rest-"

"No, it's not that," Tomas jumped in, shaking his head. He would definitely prefer staying there and not having to spend the rest of the night alone with his thoughts. The problem was "I just... sometimes I have bad nightmares. I... I don't want to wake you up or something."

"Hey, no worries about that. We both have our share of nightmares, right love?" Marcus turned to Peter who reached out across the table and squeezed his hand.

"Yeah. We are pretty used to nightmares. All the more reason you should stay here. I can't imagine it's pleasant to wake up from a nightmare in an empty apartment."

Tomas couldn't argue with that. Still, there was one thing he needed to do before he could agree.

"Uh... I need to call my sister."

"And tell her where you are. Yes?" Peter gave him an imploring look until Tomas grudgingly muttered a "Yes, sir."

"Okay, go call her."

Tomas nodded and left the kitchen. Marcus looked at Peter with a raised eyebrow.

„That wasn't exactly the plan," he said with a small smile. Peter just shrugged.

"What can I say, I care. You're bad influence."

"And I love you so much more for that," Marcus said and leaned over to give Peter a kiss.

"Good to know," Peter said with a smirk when they separated. "I might start changing our plans more often."

They could hear Tomas's voice from the living room, first muffled then more clear as he was heading back to the kitchen.

"Everything's fine, Liv. I just stayed over for dinner at Marcus's place. Yes, I ate!" The annoyance in his voice was clear and Peter raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't exactly call the soup a full-fledged dinner, but maybe they could get some sandwiches into the kid a bit later. Or pop corn. Food was food after all.

Just then Tomas appeared in the kitchen, looking a bit uneasy.

"That's... they're really okay with it, Liv. No, I don't want to bother-" Tomas suddenly blushed and without another word walked towards Peter and held the phone out to him, a pleading look on his face.

"My sister wants to talk to you," he said with a sigh and Peter wondered why he was looking like he was in front of a shooting squad.

"Me? Not Marcus?" he asked and Tomas bit his lip nervously. Marcus raised an eyebrow and Peter took the phone, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Hi, I'm Peter. Tomas said you want to talk to me?"

"Oh yeah, hi. I'm Olivia, his older sister." She sounded a bit breathless and he could tell she was walking out of a building as he heard the sound of traffic in the background.

"I don't want to bother you, just wanted to make sure it was okay that Tomas spent the night at your place?"

"Of course, we wouldn't have offered otherwise."

"Thank you," she said, sounding relieved. "You don't even know how happy I am that Tomas finally found a friend. Is your son also in the Latin study group?"

Peter blinked.

"My son?" he asked and Tomas blanched, mouthing a silent 'please?' while Marcus looked mildly amused. Peter sighed and shook his head at Tomas.

"I'm sorry, there was some mistake. Marcus isn't my son. He's my partner."

There was a momentary silence on the other end and Peter waited, watching as Tomas sat down on the chair with a groan.

"I'm sorry... who exactly are you and who is Marcus?" Olivia sounded genuinely confused and a more than a bit concerned.

"My name's Peter Osborne. My partner Marcus is Tomas's Latin teacher." Peter calmly explained while Marcus was looking more and more amused and Tomas hid his face in his arms.

"Oh, okay." Another silence as Olivia was obviously thinking what to do next. "Can you give me your address please? I think I need to speak with Tomas about his perchance of omitting some details."

"Of course." Peter gave her the address and she hung up with a promise of arriving soon. Peter put the phone on the table in front of Tomas, who raised his head and looked at Peter with half disappointment, half shame.

"She's on her way... and she didn't sound all that pleased."

Tomas groaned, but didn't say a word. It was Marcus who broke the silence.

"Really? You told her I'm a student?" He asked and looked more amused than Peter thought necessary. He frowned at him, clearly broadcasting that he should maybe look a bit more reproachful. Marcus totally ignored the look.

"I didn't. I just told her I had a new friend. Not my fault she didn't ask about your age," Tomas grumbled, realizing he was in trouble.

"Any particular reason why you didn't just tell her? Especially after I told you to give her my number?" Marcus asked and while he still looked relaxed, Peter could see the slight change in his posture, indicating the question was much more important to him than he let on. Tomas perhaps sensed it too, because he fidgeted on his seat and looked away.

"She can be a bit... overprotective. I wasn't sure she would like me hanging out with an old guy..." Tomas paused, his eyes going wide when he realized what he said, but it was too late.

"Old? You're calling me old?" Marcus looked hurt and Peter chuckled. Tomas looked at both of them with confusion.

"I didn't mean it like that," he started apologizing but Peter waved him off.

"Just ignore the old man. Was there some other reason as well? I doubt your sister would protest against extra tutoring."

Tomas gave a half shrug, slumping more into his chair and playing with the spoon in the empty bowl in front of him.

"She was always on my back for not having friends."

"So you figured I can act as your 15 year old buddy?" Marcus offered when Tomas didn't seem any more forthcoming.

"Well, it's not like you don't act like a fifteen year old sometimes," Peter commented with a smile, which earned him a petulant look and a swift kick on the shin under the table.

"You're just proving a point, dear," he said, kicking back, while Tomas looked on, confused.

Marcus just smirked and leaned back in the chair comfortably, giving Tomas a questioning look.

„Any reason you gave the phone to Peter instead of me? Maybe I would've played along."

At that Tomas blushed.

"I was a bit startled. She wanted to talk to your parents, so..." Tomas shrugged and Peter laughed.

"Lovely. Well, I suppose I might take it as a compliment. I at least look younger than Peter." Another smirk and this time Peter just rolled his eyes.

"Glad at least someone's having fun," Tomas muttered, feeling rather unhappy about the prospect of an encounter with an angry Olivia. Marcus leaned over and affectionately ruffled his hair.

"Relax, kid. We won't let her bite your head off. Who knows, she might find us charming. I know I am."

"Terribly so," Peter concurred with a fake British accent and Tomas couldn't help but smile. Watching those two interacting was putting him at ease... their colors evened each other out and mixed into a calming white with a hint of green, like fresh grass.

"Okay, why don't you two go and clean up that mess in the living room? Maybe pretend to work on some studying when Tomas's sister arrives. I'll clean up the kitchen and maybe make some tea... or coffee. Which one does she prefer?" Peter asked, already thinking of how to sooth the situation and Tomas gave him a grateful smile.

"If she's having a night shift, coffee. With milk and lots of sugar."

"Milk and sugar have no place in coffee," Marcus commented but Peter ignored him in lieu of clearing the table.

Not even twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. Tomas was in the living room with Marcus, his history homework splayed on the table. Marcus was lounging comfortably on the chair, long legs up on the table to Peter's dismay.

All three exchanged a look, Tomas quickly turning his head back into the book, trying to look busy. Marcus chuckled but didn't make a move to get up. Peter sighed. It seemed he was the one chosen to brave the storm.

Peter opened the door just as Olivia was about to knock again, her hand pausing mid air.

"Hello," she said a bit taken aback, looking at Peter with regarding, tired eyes. "I'm Olivia. Is Tomas here?"

"Peter," he offered her his hand and she returned a strong grip. "Yes, he's waiting for you. Please, come on in."

Olivia nodded silently and without hesitation walked past Peter. She didn't even pause at the door. She gave Marcus a short nod and zeroed in right onto Tomas, who was sitting on the couch, trying to look much more relaxed than he was.

"Tomas?" she stopped in front of her brother, arms on her hips and a fierce look on her face. Tomas swallowed and smiled.

"Hey Liv. Uh... this is Marcus... my teacher," Tomas added as an afterthought.

Olivia looked over at Marcus who stood up and also offered a hand and smile.

"Marcus Keane. Pleasure to meet you."

Some of the fire left her eyes as she took in his friendly composure. She shook hands with him as well.

"I'm sorry for barging in, but I need to talk to my brother. We have some... family business to clear up."

"Of course. Would you like some coffee? We just made a fresh batch."

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Marcus gave Tomas a wink as he passed Olivia and followed Peter to the kitchen.

For a moment there was only silence and Tomas prepared himself for the outlash. Olivia crossed her arms and made a very good imitation of Abuelita.

"Are you insane?" she shouted in Spanish, obviously trying to keep the conversation private but forgetting to keep her voice down as well. Tomas opened his mouth, ready to tell her that Marcus was quite skilled in Spanish as well, but he didn't get a chance. Olivia was in his face, arms flailing.

"Going home with strangers... two adult men... without telling me a word? Do you even realize how dangerous that is?"

Tomas frowned, not liking what she was insinuating and taking personal offense at her tone.

"They are not strangers," he said, trying to keep his voice down. "Marcus is my teacher and my friend. Peter is his partner. What's so bad about it?"

Olivia shook her head.

"You don't get it, Tomas. This is Chicago! You... you're still just a kid and I'm the one responsible for you. They could've drugged you or or... whatever!"

"They're not like that!" Tomas protested, now angry on their behalf as well as his own. "Not everyone in this city is crazy, Liv. And I would've thought you knew me a bit better than that."

Olivia seemed to lose some of her steam. She might have not believed his dreams were anything more than dreams, but she knew her brother. Ever since he started talking, Tomas had a knack of knowing people, of recognizing the dangerous and strange ones. She remembered clearly that he never liked their neighbor and kept far away from him, even as a four year old kid. Several months later, the neighbor was sent to jail for attacking and beating his girlfriend. It was a friendly man and no one thought a bad thing of him, but Tomas knew there was something dark hidden inside him. Tomas always knew and Olivia shouldn't have forgotten that.

She ran a weary hand over her face and Tomas took a step closer, recognizing her reaction for what it was. Worry and tiredness.

"They're good guys, Liv. I swear."

"Are you sure?"

Tomas nodded and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I feel safe here. That's... that's all."

Marcus and Peter chose that moment to walk in, one holding a plate with coffee the other a plate of sandwiches.

"I know priests don't have the best rep, but I assure you Tomas is as safe as it comes in this house," Marcus spoke in Spanish and Olivia blushed, embarrassed.

"Oh god, I didn't mean-" she raised her hands in supplication then her eyes went even wider. "Wait. You're a priest?"

"I was one. Then I met Peter and well... the church isn't exactly a fan of priests finding love as you can imagine."

"Yes, I imagine that might be a problem," Olivia said with a small chuckle and the mood in the room relaxed a bit. "I'm sorry for... all of this." She sighed and accepted the cup of coffee Peter was offering with a grateful smile.

"For some reason Tomas didn't tell me about you, so I was taken aback."

"You're his sister and you're protective. Nothing wrong with that, love," Marcus said with a smile and both he and Peter sat down on the couch, pointing for Olivia to do the same. She looked at her watch and reluctantly sat down.

"I really don't have much time... I need to be at work in a moment." She turned to Tomas. "If we leave now I can drive you home and get to work with a few minutes to spare."

Tomas frowned and was about to protest but Peter spoke first.

"Our offer still stands, Olivia. Tomas can stay for the night. We already had planned a movie night."

"Yes, I need some support in picking a movie," Marcus peeped in.

Olivia looked torn and Tomas reached for her hand and gave her one of his best pleading looks.

"Por favor? It's Friday anyway, not like I need to go to school in the morning."

"We can drive him home after breakfast, it's no trouble," Marcus added.

Olivia sighed and it was obvious she was going to relent.

"Okay, if it's really no trouble for you," she turned to Marcus and Peter, accepting the quick hug from her brother with a roll of her eyes.

"Of course not. We'll just make a bigger batch of popcorn." Marcus grinned.

"As long as you're feeling better?" Olivia turned to Tomas and gave him an appraising look, her hand pushing some stray hair off his forehead, fingers gently checking for fever. She frowned at his paleness and sunken cheeks. „Did you do well on the test?"

At that Tomas grimaced and pulled back, embarrassed by her fussing in front of Marcus and Peter as well as unhappy with his academic proves that day.

„It went... okay," he said and knew he would have to make it up later, but as long as he didn't mess up anymore it shouldn't have bearing on his grades. Yet.

Olivia's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Okay? Did something happen I should know of?" Tomas shook his head trying for an innocent smile and when Olivia looked at Marcus with a raised eyebrow, Tomas shook his head again with a pleading look. Peter would've started laughing, but he didn't think this was a laughing matter. He was also curious if Marcus would say anything or not. Marcus for his part felt like being put in the middle of a war he had no intention of partaking. Yet he still did, for the sake of the kid. At the moment he felt gaining Tomas's trust was more important than telling Olivia the truth.

"Nothing serious. Tomas didn't feel well at the end of the school day so I sent him to the nurse. Stomach bug she said. Rest, fluids and some easy food."

"We already managed to get some soup into him," Peter added.

"Tomas!" This time Olivia twirled around, slapping Tomas on the arm. "What did I tell you about lying?!"

"I didn't lie!" Tomas protested, although only half-heartedly and was hoping Olivia wouldn't turn and look at Marcus, who inclined his head in that universal gesture of 'Really?'

"I asked if you were fine!"

"And I am! It was just a bug, that's all. I'm feeling much better now. I swear!" Tomas raised both hands and at least this time he said the truth. He was feeling better after all. The only reason his stomach was churning now was because Olivia was still glaring daggers at him and there was a promise of a long conversation at home come morning. Plus there was the letter from the nurse that was burning a hole in his backpack, but Tomas thought he would much rather face that issue while in the privacy of his home, rather than let Olivia make a scene in front of Marcus again. Some of that must've telegraphed on his face, because Olivia sighed and relented.

"What am I gonna do with you?" It was a philosophical question, but Peter still butted in.

"Leave him here. It's better than Tomas being alone tonight and you worrying if he's okay while you should be focusing on the job. I promise, no junk food would cross this table," Peter said with a smirk as two voices moaned in unison.

Olivia smiled. She was starting to like Peter. He sounded like the adult and responsible of the pair.

"Okay. Not like I have much of a choice," she said with a sigh and turned back to Tomas, enveloping him in a hug.

"You call if you need anything, understood?" she whispered in his ear and Tomas nodded.

"Don't worry so much. Be careful, don't fall asleep on the job."

"Oh, no trouble with that. This is my fourth coffee today," she grimaced and stood, ready to leave.

"It was nice to meet you, Marcus, Peter. I really appreciate you tutoring my brother and I hope we can talk about it a bit more once my schedule won't be this crazy."

"Of course. It's my pleasure too, Tomas is a very bright kid," Marcus said and reached for a piece of paper and a pen, quickly scribbling down his phone number. "In case you need anything and don't want to wait for Tomas to divulge the message," Marcus added with a small grin and Tomas blushed. Olivia took the number and put it in her purse. "Thank you."

"I'll see you out," Peter said and walked next to Olivia as they headed towards the door. Once there though she paused and it was obvious she had something on her mind.

"Don't worry, he will be fine." Peter said gently and Olivia looked up at him.

"I know. It's just... I don't know what Tomas told you, but you should be aware he suffers from nightmares. Lately they are getting worse and once or twice I caught him sleepwalking..."

Peter nodded.

"All the more reason not to leave him alone tonight. He had a hard day at school."

Olivia raised an eyebrow, but Peter didn't elaborate on that. It was up to Tomas to tell the truth after all.

"Tomas told us, don't worry. It's not a problem."

"Oh, okay. Thank you." Olivia was obviously relieved that Tomas said at least as much. And maybe a bit surprised as well.

"He must really like you to admit that," she said, thinking out loud. Peter laughed and Olivia felt better just from the sound of his voice.

"I think it's all Marcus. He's the charming one in this family. He's also often acting like a teenager, so they have a lot in common."

Olivia smiled, then with a nod left the house. She turned on the front step, her face hard again.

"If anything happens to him..." she warned but Peter shook his head, equally serious.

"He's safe here. I promise. And we will call if needed."


An hour later all the homework was gone from the table, replaced by sandwiches, a bowl of popcorn, apple slices and some drinks. Peter and Marcus were lounging together on the couch, while Tomas was curled up in the armchair, head lulling to the side.

The television was playing the Police Academy 1 to Marcus's delight. Peter was a fan of good action movies and fast car chases, but Marcus wanted to enjoy some good comedy. Luckily when it was time to pick a movie Tomas sided with Marcus, noting that he hasn't seen the Police academy before. Peter gave up his quest and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch quickly finding his shoulder used as a pillow for Marcus when his lanky form somehow managed to occupy the whole length of the couch.

On the screen, Mahoney was just giving Hightower a driving lesson by stealing a car and having a police chase around the city.

"I really hope your driving lesson won't end that way," Peter commented in jest. "I'm still partially attached to that truck."

"Why, you're just giving me ideas, love," Marcus quipped. "What do you say we go for a jolly night ride around the city Tomas?"

But Tomas didn't say anything and both men exchanged a look. Peter leaned over a bit then chuckled.

"He's out like a light," he commented in low voice, leaning back. "Should we wake him and send him to his room?"

"Now you're just trying to make me feel old, right?" Marcus rolled his eyes. "Let the kid be, he needs his beauty sleep. Pass the popcorn?"

Peter didn't disagree, though when the second movie finished and he caught himself yawning, he decided it was time they all went to bed. Marcus pouted at the idea of going to bed so early, it wasn't even midnight yet and Marcus was usually a night owl, but Peter quickly chased the pout away with a kiss. Then he gave a pointed look towards the lump in the armchair.

"He needs to get into a real bed. Not even a 15 year old will get out of that chair after a whole night without feeling like a tank run him over."

"True, yet I don't feel like waking him up."

"Though luck, babe. Go on. Sooner he's in bed, sooner we can get there too." Peter gave another quick peck to Marcus nose.

"You're terrible," Marcus grumbled, extricating himself from the couch with an exaggerated moan, only to be pushed the rest of the way by Peter.

"I just thought you needed some help old man."

Marcus grabbed a lonely corn from the bottom of the bowl and threw it at Peter.

"Oh, you're so cleaning that up later," Peter commented with a sly grin. Marcus mouthed 'make me' then turned towards Tomas. The kid looked so peaceful in the flickering light of the TV Marcus felt a twitch of regret about having to wake him up. If he was any younger and smaller, Marcus would've just carried him up the stairs, but even though Tomas wasn't by any means bulky, he was too big to be carried around. With a sigh and hoping his first instinct wasn't to lash out, Marcus put a hand on Tomas's shoulder and gave it a slight shake.

"Tomas?" he called his name and saw a twitch of an eyebrow, but the kid didn't wake up, only seemed to burrow deeper into the cushions of the chair.

"Come on, movie's over and Peter is mutinying about part three. Time for bed." Tomas groaned and popped open an eye, glaring at Marcus with the mighty glare of teenagers. Marcus wasn't impressed.

"Up and at them... I'm not lugging you up the stairs."

"Chair's comfy," Tomas muttered, hoping he would be allowed to stay and fall back to sleep. It was the first uninterrupted sleep he had for the last few weeks and he really wished he could just go back to it.

"If you find this comfy, you will think the bed is heavenly. Come on. I don't want to face an angry Olivia if we deliver her little brother as a pretzel."

Tomas muttered something under his nose that sounded too much like chicken. Marcus sighed, taking offense. Peter chuckled.

"Aren't you happy we didn't get to see the terrible two's?"

"Ecstatic," Marcus commented, then without warning turned on the lamp, lighting up the room. Tomas groaned, putting an arm over his eyes and hiding his glare.

"I'm up, I'm up," he grumbled and got out of the chair, stretching out the kinks.

"Isn't torture against Geneva conventions?" Tomas blinked owlishly as the two men laughed at his plight.

"Don't talk about torture until you tasted Marcus's three am attempt at scrambled eggs," Peter noted, receiving a glare of his own.

"Okay, upstairs, both of you. The last one upstairs is cleaning up the mess in the living room-" Peter didn't even finish the sentence, both Tomas and Marcus were rushing for the stairs. "Figures," Peter muttered with a grin then slowly followed them. After all, he didn't say when the cleaning up should happen.