A/N: Hey all! So a day of being unable to write this story has left me with serious withdrawal. I need to write this story. I need to finish it.

Only two more days until the weekend's over. Let me pose a question to ya. Do you think Maddie is going to be able to get her Josh back? Or do you think his pain will win out? Lemme know in the review section!

Honestly, reviews are my life source. And hugs. And chocolate. Mmmm...

Er, anyway! So there will be official demigod stuff soon. Sit back, relax, and grab a snack and a friend, because the story, is about to start.

** Disclaimer ** I do not own the concept of demigods as Rick Riordan introduced. This is a fanfic, people.

And high up above or down below

When you're too in love to let it go

If you never try, then you'll never know

Just what you're worth

Maddie awoke lazily, and after heaving a huge yawn she sat up and looked around blearily. In the otherwise dark house, a bright shaft of light shone through the open door.

Wait a moment...the door had been locked last night by Josh...and every other door was still closed. The light was a pale silver, which meant it was still dark out. Josh was nowhere to be seen, and she leapt to her feet in a panic. Her first target was the bathroom on the first floor, but there was nothing to be found. She raced up the stairs to the second floor and once again found no sign of Josh.

Her heart was racing and she took a second to apply logic and reason to the situation. Heading back downstairs, Maddie shoved on her boots and snatched up her keys, heading for the door. Her mind was running through possible scenarios: possibly, her presence had jogged something inside Josh, and he was out getting some fresh air on the porch. That was quickly dashed as she saw no sign of him anywhere, not even on the street in either direction.

Calm down, Mads. He could be anywhere, but freaking out won't get you anywhere, she told herself. She hopped into her truck and started it up, listening to the familiar chortling sound of the engine. Resting her head on the steering wheel, Maddie thought of all the places Josh would go. He hadn't left the house in months; perhaps almost a full year. He, and the mere thought brough tears to her eyes, didn't have any other friends to visit; not anymore. He didn't watch the news (he never did before, though) and she wasn't sure why that popped up.

She remembered from the aftermath of the accident, in Josh's first year of therapy, the doctor told her he was suffering from severe PTSD, and a common sideffect of PTSD was hallucinations. He was given medicine that would lessen the chances of them, but Josh was never one for taking a cocktail of medicine, and that's what he'd been prescribed; ten different kinds of pills to be taken everyday. Hallucinations, she remembered from her AP Psychology class last year, often included a significant person or event. And there was only one significant event that Josh's mentally ill mind would focus on.

She pulled out of the driveway and set her mental GPS to the stretch of Highway 79 where, three years ago, Josh's life was turned upside down.

As her truck approached the shoulder of the road, she dimmed her brights and began to slow down. Her windshield wipers were on, and she donned her rainproof windbreaker before kicking the door open. A figure was crouched before three small crosses adorned with flowers both fake and real. The ugly ruts that the car had left were filled in with flowers, so it looked like some great god of nature had ridden past on a chariot. There was a spot, much farther along the slope, where the car had finally come to rest. Peering down now, she noticed that there was a small gazebo with a few benches.

Josh's father had been well known in the community as a man who would always stand up for what was right. He was a constant figure of moral forthrightness, and people of all ethnicities and beliefs in the community looked to him as a symbol of unity and leadership. Several times he'd turned down the position of mayor, stating that he could achieve much greater things outside of the realm of American politics. So, in his honor, and in the honor of his children, the community had made this horrific scene all the more beautiful.

Josh was kneeling with his head bowed, in dark blue jeans and a tattered hooded jacket. The jacket hood was down and his hair was plastered to his face. She realized he'd been out here for hours, meaning he'd left probably right after she'd fallen asleep. He'd walked the whole way here; over seven miles, and over half of that time was spent in the rain, she guessed. His hand was resting on the cross that remembered his little brother, Adam.

Maddie remembered pitching in to help with the construction of this scene, remembered how all of Adam's friends had pitched together to make the cross. Liz's volleyball team and her coworkers had pitched in to make hers. Beside the three crosses was a small signpost, covered in writing. In the dim light of her truck's headlights, she realized she wasn't there for this addition.

Covering the sign were well wishings to Josh, telling him to stay strong and remember he had no shortage of friends; all he had to do was ask for them. Complete strangers had stopped by on their busy day to sign the post and write their own little message. Josh must have heard her approach, because she saw his shoulders droop even farther. He looked up, his tortured and hollow eyes now bright red from something other than alcohol.

"Hey," he croaked, and Maddie knelt next to him, her knees squishing into the mud. He looked down and away, and was silent. She thought he wasn't going to say anymore until, "Did I ever tell you exactly what happened?"

"N-no...you told the doctors and the policemen and everyone that you didn't remember anything past escaping from the wreck," Maddie said wearily. If he'd lied...that could spell trouble for him.

"I didn't, at first. Everything was...hazy. Surreal. Like it wasn't me watching. An out-of-body experience, as though I were watching through someone else's eyes," he began slowly, trying to explain. Maddie nodded, knowing that shock often blurred the events that caused the shock.

"Then...things came back, slowly. I took up alcohol because...after my first real binge, I gained a lot of memory as to what really happened. With each drink, it felt like I was remembering more and more. Now...now I'm sure of what happened.

"Right after I pulled myself out of the wreckage, I finally realized Adam's hand was cold. Dangerously cold. It was raining. Pouring, just like it is right now. I pulled Adam up to my chest and took up a position over him, listening for a heartbeat. I didn't hear one, so I started shaking him, pleading with him to wake up. I begged and cried and prayed, prayed to anyone I could think of. Nothing...so I held him to my chest and I started crying even harder, rocking him in my arms. I saw my father, a few yards away, and saw his neck...his neck was positioned oddly. I couldn't...I was still holding Adam as I crawled back toward the car. There was Liz, sitting in the front seat, blood pouring from her neck. Glass was sticking out of her throat. Her head...it turned slowly. Toward me.

"'J-Jaaaa,' she coughed up a lot of blood, still upside down in the seat. She looked at me and saw I was crying and she...she looked like she wanted to comfort me. Comfort me, Maddie. She saw Adam in my arms, saw his open eyes and pale face, and tears came harder. I saw her mouth open, but then it went slack. She wanted to say something to me. I'll never know what it was. I'll never hear what her final words were. But Caleb...Caleb was the hardest to see," Josh was full on crying now, his hand clenched tightly on the cross for Adam, "My brother...you know how close we were. We were one person. Inseparable. And yet...there he was. Dead, I thought. He was dead, and I wasn't.

"All of them were dead, but I wasn't! Why?! Why did I get to live?! Why didn't Adam get to live, to achieve his dreams?! WHY ME?" Josh screamed, "Oh GOD, IT HURTS! I DON'T WANT TO LIVE! I don't want to be alive if they can't be!" Josh's eyes met Maddie's and he grabbed onto her shoulders, some of his former strength returning. He looked deeply into her eyes, sobs wracking his body.

His lips fluttered with each shuddering breath, trying to speak, "I...I set Adam down, and stood. I felt a bone break in my leg but I pushed on, heading up the slope. I screamed for help, seeing headlights up on the road. I stumbled and fell, but I continued crawling, my voice barely above a croak. And then I passed out. I wasn't even strong enough to get them help, Maddie! I couldn't save any of them!" He started crying again, shoving his head into her chest, just below her chin. He sobbed terribly, screaming as he let out three years of hurt and pent up emotion. Maddie held him tightly as he cried, no, as he broke open. The ordeal lasted ten more minutes, and then he gathered the strength to speak again.

"Maddie..." he tried to speak, but Maddie put a finger over his lips and shook her head, making it clear she wanted to speak. Josh was silent immediately, something he'd never done before. She had his undivided attention, and she chose her words carefully.

"Listen to me, honey. Okay? You couldn't have done anything for them. Their fate was sealed the moment they entered the car. As was yours. There's nothing you can do about that, and torturing yourself like this," Maddie brushed his unkempt and unwashed hair from his face, "Isn't getting you anywhere. Think of Liz. She was always there to hold you as you cried, or as Caleb cried. She was the mother you never had, right?" She posed the question gently, and Josh nodded, sniffling as he tried not to sob again, "Well, imagine her in the afterlife, watching her beloved little brother literally killing himself because of something he couldn't control. Would she have wanted you to spend three years killing yourself? Would Adam, or Caleb?" She waited patiently for the shake of his head. She noticed he'd calmed considerably as she'd spoken.

They stayed in each other's arms for what felt like hours, until Maddie managed to convince him to get in her truck. She drove them back to his home, glad she'd shut the door before leaving. She had to hold him as he walked up the small steps to the front door. When his back was turned, she grabbed one of the wooden chairs by the dining room and shoved it under the door handle. He stared at her in shock as she was a little loud, and she stared him down, "Neither of us will leave this house, not until Monday. Not until you stop grabbing those," she said, pointing to the bottle that had somehow appeared in his hand.

One deep, long swig later and he was grabbing at his mouth, rushing to the bathroom. A second later and she heard horrible retching sounds. Walking carefully, slowly, she entered behind him and sat down beside him, rubbing his back as he was violently and helplessly ill in the toilet. He turned away so she couldn't see, and kept heaving and retching long after there was nothing left to vomit.

"Go away," he growled miserably, staring at the contents of his stomach. She only shook her head and said, "Too late." To which he turned his face further away and retched one more time.

"You're too proud, you know that?" she reached around him and flushed the toilet, reaching for a washcloth and turning him around, cleaning his face. He coughed and swallowed hard, and she offered him a small smile.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Josh?" Maddie asked as she pulled him against her chest again.

"The best cure for a hangover is to drink more so you forgot you have a hangover," he informed her dryly, and she scowled at him in return, "You know, this is the only clear time of day, when I'm lying here in this, this toxic, writhing mess. This is the time when I consider quitting all this drinking shit, when the afternoon or morning sun, whatever it is, when that streaks in and freaking blinds me, catching on the stupid white tile floor."

"Why don't you?" Maddie wondered aloud, listening intently.

"I guess I can never make a real decision about it. I mean, most any morning, here I am curled up by the damn toilet, and there's this wrenching twisting pain in my stomach, and, and my mouth tastes like bile and stale vodka, and the roof is spinning in my pounding skull and I'm choking and coughing and shaking something violent, and my body doesn't feel real or responsive or anything. It feels kinda like I'm dying, like I'm puking up my guts and my lungs and my, whatever else is in there." He rambled a bit as his hands played the story out in front of him, and Maddie watched on from the other side.

"But then the day drags on, and here I am all by myself, no one looking in or telling me what's right and healthy and reasonable, and I'm bored and I'm hurt and I'm so damn lonesome, y'know? And then I take a swig, and everything seems better, because, like, how can it be wrong or anything to do what makes it all go away? And so I do it again and again because, because for like a moment, just a moment, Mads, I forget anything else."

Maddie nodded, looking at her old friend's tortured face, and came to a decision, "Let's get you up to bed, okay?" Josh only nodded, and followed lamely as she led the way upstairs. Maddie was suprised as Josh headed for the bathroom first. She was afraid he was about to be sick again, and didn't expect for him to grab a towel and shampoo, and walk toward the bathtub. The upstairs bathroom held a shower/tub combo, while the downstairs bathroom was usually intended for the guests to use; there was no shower or bathtub in there.

"If you're going to stand there and watch me get naked, you could at least offer to join me," Josh's comment caught her off guard, and she blushed furiously before quickly backing out of the bathroom. Her usual response to such a comment would have been a snappy and snazzy comeback, but the raw emotions they'd experienced today had turned her on her head. When Josh was finished, she assumed he'd had clean clothes stored somewhere in there, because he was wearing USAF sweatpants and a physical fitness shirt that was made of soft cotton and showed off his abs. The shirt was sleeveless, and she saw a tattoo there she was amazed she'd never heard of before.

It featured an anchor, and down the shaft were the letters, U S N, and on the hooks that split off to either side, spaced evenly, where the initials, H. L. K. On one side of the anchor were the letters U.S.S. and below them a date, 1945. On the other side of the anchor was the word, Iowa, and another date, 1946. Racking her brain, Maddie remembered Josh's beloved great-grandfather (Michael Berkeley's kind-hearted step-father), Howard Lilburn King, had served in the United States Navy on the USS Iowa, the Iowa-class battleship that defined a new class of battleships, during the years 1945 and never knew he'd gotten a tattoo honoring one of the most important people in his life, and felt a little hurt.

His hair was still the same length, he didn't seem capable of cutting it on his own, but it caught the dim light perfectly and made her want to feel the silky smooth texture.

She walked toward the door that marked his bedroom, and pushed it open. This room was even darker than the other rooms. Thick blankets were put up to block the windows in place of curtains. Josh sat down on the bed and sighed.

"I should really stop living in the dark...but how can I live in happiness when I think of my dad, alone after mom just up and left? He never showed it, but he was broken by it. He just...he accepted it too easily. He lost a part of himself, I know it, and he threw himself into making the community better, never talking about how he felt," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He was about to say more, but she interrupted.

"We all cope differently." Maddie tried to reason.

"Or we don't cope at all," He smiled sadly as he recognized her own vice, and Maddie watched him rub his hands together in his lap, "It just makes me kind of sad, you know. The days drag on like some measurement, like the sun going up and down cuts off each fragment of time, like it's that simple. And there's no end, we just live on and on and we rise and set like sections of time, and people sit next to us, or lay next to us in our beds, but we don't really know them. They're not really with us, we're all alone, all freaking alone, and if we're not, we will end up that way. Those people beside us or in our arms, they're the people who hurt us most, who shatter us and drown us."

"You really believe that?" Maddie spoke so gently as her eyes settled on Josh, his words just sputtering about and smelling of a habit he could do without.

"I don't know, it seems right." He shrugged and made a face, "But the part of me that was conditioned to believe in fairy tales, it stupidly still hangs on. Like, wake up, you stupid naïve little brat."

"Just because one love didn't last, Josh, doesn't mean that it's impossible. Everyone's a little torn up, a little naïve and holdin' on a little tight to somethin' stupid." Maddie leaned against him for a second, supportively feeling his trembling body.

"Even you?" His eyes ran up to meet hers, shaking with the intoxication that often drifted focus. But somewhere inside she could see that little bit of hope, that stupid naïve boy he spoke of, looking out.

"Of course, even me. There are a lot of broken people, Josh." Maddie spoke in a long sigh, relaxing as she watched him listen carefully, his gray eyes shimmering and admiring something he hadn't entirely lost. Maddie reached over and took his hand, trying on a comforting smile, "I guess the only thing we can do is look real close, maybe hope to find another broken person whose pieces fit together with our own."

His lips hit hers without warning and immediately he slipped his tingling, vodka-flavoured tongue into her mouth. It was so damn surprising Maddie nearly chocked on him, but her body couldn't even move much at all. Josh passionately took her over, and for a second she was suspended in shock or ecstasy. As his free hand slid over her cheek almost tenderly, the hand in her own squeezed and his knees touched hers, his body pressing so near it terrified Maddie.

She managed to move against him, but even she wasn't sold on whether she was pushing him away or kissing him back. Maddie pulled back suddenly, her wide eyes grinding against Josh's as they sat there in silence and stillness. Maddie was on her feet in an instant, and she had her hand over her mouth as she raced out of his room and rounded the corner at the stairs, flying down them so quickly her vision blurred about and she could have fallen right off balance. She hit the foyer and wanted to keep going, wanted to break down the obstacle that she herself had placed to keep them in.

Maddie pressed herself up against the front door and hit it with her forehead, leaning one knee onto the balancing chair she had shoved under the door knob to keep it shut. She knew she couldn't leave him, the chair had been put here to remind her of that. Even if it all killed her, be it the booze or the shouting or whatever else he'd do to her, Maddie knew she'd have to stick it out the whole weekend. He's my friend, that broken down, sorry-sick guy, he's my best friend.

Maddie didn't know why Josh would do such a thing, but she guessed it had something to do with the topic and the mass amounts of liquor he had consumed since he threw yesterday's ration up. She felt the affected area of her lips and moved her tongue around, still feeling the slimy, taboo sensation of his tongue against hers and tasting the poison in her mouth. It wasn't that Maddie hated it entirely, but it was unsettling and revealing, and for all she knew, meaningless. But again, this was not about her, it did not matter how upset or confused it made her, the entire reason she locked myself in here was for him.

Maddie could not go back on that now.

Checking the clock on the small table beside the door, she was shocked to see that the time was noon. They'd spent over half of the day just...sitting and talking. She shoved off of the door and headed back up the stairs, hearing heart-wrenching sobs coming from Josh's room.

"Stupid, stupid...ugh! You stupid little, you, you stupid," he couldn't even finish, but his hand shot out and grabbed a nearby bottle, which was nearly empty, Maddie noticed.

He yanked it over and brought it to his lips, or at least Maddie imagined he did, as he was facing away from her, the bedside table on the opposite side of the bed from the door. Josh tipped it all the way back, and Maddie watched in solemn silence as every last drop poured down his throat, yet even that did not satisfy him. Maddie's eyes were broken open and locked on him as he shook the bottle to get the last of it, groaning angrily. Maddie's feet moved slowly into the room, the light catching on her clothes and skin as she closed some distance. With a pathetic whimper and shout, Joshsh chucked his vice right over his shoulder, the glass bottle flipping and spinning menacingly through the air.

Maddie reached out and stepped to the side, catching the emptied vodka bottle upside down in her raised hand. Josh froze as the satisfying smash was not heard, and instead was replaced with the muffled sound of a catch. Maddie could feel the few remnant drops of a seemingly empty bottle drip out of the mouth, hitting her long sleeve and her wrist, trickling down to her elbow. Josh slowly turned around, his body shivering with each stifled snivel, and their eyes met at last.

Maddie witnessed his honest pain right there, right there in those seemingly bright eyes. His lips quivered as he made for words, but for a few seconds silence was all that breached his throat. Tears were still moist on his cheeks and his eyes had become dark and red once more. Maddie lowered her hand and his bottle, swinging her arm and lightly tossing the apothecary's popular poison onto some dirtied clothes in a pile by his closet.

"Maddie," her name was on his lips, and it was rough and rueful, "I thought you, I thought you left." Josh sniffled a couple times as he acted like she couldn't tell what he was doing. Maddie didn't respond, she just stepped a little closer to him, her bare feet peeling off the wooden floor and finding a soft spot on his rug instead, "Just leave already, did—didn't I make, make it clear enough? Just, just leave."

Maddie was still silent as she made it to his bed, and she slid her knee onto it, climbing over his messed, wrinkled covers despite the difficulty and making her way to him. Josh moved away from her, his eyes pleading and frustrated, not angry with her but with something. Maddie reached out and touched him, taking him by the shoulders tightly and holding him still. Josh tried to fight her, shoving her away and arguing.

"Get off of me! Let go! You can't just—!" Josh's voice was stuffed with cries until Maddie pressed him against herself, holding his head on her shoulder.

Josh still struggled, pushing Maddie off as his arms were bent up between them. They sat there on his bed as he shook, yelling into the Maddie's shirt incoherent statements as he violently attacked her. His strength gave way abruptly though, and he held his whole body against her as his cries returned. It started off small, his tears and his words seeping into Maddie's shirt.

"I—I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," Maddie made out between snivels and sobs, and she felt her heart in her throat, and quarrelled with a pathetic frown of her own, holding back threatening tears instead for consolation, "I'm sorry."

His cries were loud; they were passionate and violent, they were strong and forceful and compelling, and they were riveting and unstoppable. Maddie released her commanding hold on him to wrap her arms around his shaking form, rubbing his back comfortingly as he went on. This was the second time Maddie had heard such horrible aching, such driven sorrow.

Finally, Josh's cries died away, and they both relaxed immensely. There was nothing that needed to be said, nothing that would make much of a difference. This was a time for both young adults to come to terms with what had just happened, to pause and recollect, and to attempt to gather their thoughts.

It was Josh, after many minutes of silence, of just sitting and listening to the steady breathing of his best friend, who first broke the silence once more, "Did I ever tell you much about what happened before the crash? What led up to it and what caused it?" he asked. He had slipped down Maddie's body, his arms moving around her as they had gotten comfortable. Maddie could feel the damp spots on her clothes from his tears, the wrinkles on her shirt collar, the bunched up folds of her shirt as he squeezed her for support. Finally, Josh's head made its way to Maddie's lap, and he curled up, laying there facing away from her as she stroked his hair. Maddie was kneeling on bent legs now, and though they were numbing and tired, she did not move while he was in her arms and on her lap.

"No, Josh," she said honestly, deciding to let him speak, "I just remember your father was a little drunk, but the other driver was way over the legal limit."

"That's not true. My father was the one who was over the legal limit. Someone fudged the toxicoloy report to put dad in a better light," sensing her doubtful gaze, Josh looked up at her, jaw set, "I was there, Mads. I know what's right and what's lies."

Maddie offered an apologetic smile, "I know, it's just...I can't imagine people would do that." Josh nodded and settled back down.

"Yeah, well, believe it. I can't remember why he was drinking, but dad was most definitely drunk. I know he was lying to me about being on his phone throughout the whole game. I mean, it's not like I wasn't used to it, but he didn't have to lie to me. So I confronted him, asked to him to please not insult my intelligence by lying to so blatantly, that I didn't even care that he was on it, just that he was trying to lie.

"His entire demeanor changed, and the look he gave me...it's like he wanted to start beating me to a pulp. I'd never seen anything like it on his face. Adam squeaked in terror. The rain was already pouring, and this is when dad started swerving a little. He started yelling at me, cursing me, calling me a hypocrite. He brought up everytime he perceived a lie coming from me, like when I would handle a confrontation with someone by taking it to the side away from public eyes, and how I would always come back with cuts or bruises, but the other person was never seen. Or how I would sometimes randomly leave the house and then come back, bruised or scraped. He accused me of doing drugs and getting physical with my dealers, and then said I was obviously dealing out drugs myself," Josh laughed coarsely, looking at Maddie, "Me, a drug dealer! I'm an athlete, and a very intelligent person! I would never-"

Maddie cut him off with a smile, "I know, Josh. You don't have to explain to me," she said gently.

"Right, right, because you get me," Josh agreed, continuing after getting a signal from Maddie, "I managed to get him to shut up long enough to let me talk, and I told him about the Greek gods and heroes, and monsters. Told him how, in those days, mortals couldn't see the reality before them, the reality of monsters and gods and such, and how it was the responsibility of heroes, like demigods, who were born of god and mortal, to protect the mortal realm from all things mundane and mystical. He laughed, hard and cruel, at the idea of me being a hero. Told me how I would never be like those heroes, how stupid I must be for thinking there was any truth in those stories. And that's when the truck hit us." Josh was silent for a long time, and Maddie offered him a few words of comfort and they talked about nonsensical things until, abruptly, Maddie realized Josh had wanted to say more.

"Maddie...you're going to thing I'm crazy. You may dismiss it as some mental thing after all I've been through put...I never got to tell him or anyone else, not even Caleb," Maddie inclined her head curiously, as he sat up and looked at her directly in her eyes.

"I'm a demigod. A...a son of Athena, I think."

"You're...you're a what?" Maddie racked her brain, thinking of Athena and what she stood for, what her spheres of influence were. She was the goddess of wisdom...she had gray eyes...as she thought about Athena, she imagined Athena's appearance, and felt like she was struck by lightning as she realized why Athena had seemed so familiar to her. It was like she was looking at a picture of Josh's mother; which she realized she was. The thought that Josh might have beem pulling her leg didn't even cross her mind.

"A son of Athena. A demigod; half human, and half god..." Josh seemed a little uncomfortable under his friend's gaze, but she kept staring at him, trying to discern if there was any sudden change in who he was, and found none. He was still the same Josh she'd always known. The same Josh she'd gotten romantic feelings for.

"How...how did you find out?" Maddie asked, her throat suddenly dry. Her best friend was someone straight out of mythology, a slayer of monsters and champion of mortals.

"After I slew my first monster. Remember Johnny Stez from Sophomore year?" 'Johnny Stez' was the alias a vicious cyclops was using to prey on mortals at their high school. He'd been drawn in by Josh's aura, and the bully was confronted by Josh after school one day. Josh saw through the disguise, and managed to destroy the monster with nothing but his photographic memory of the boiler room and some hot steam. Josh waited for Maddie to nod, and then continued, "Remember how he moved away suddenly, and how there was no reason for it?" Again, he waited for Maddie's nod, and then spread out his hands in a 'there you have it' gesture. Maddie just stared for awhile.

"Tell me what happened," she implored him, fascinated. Josh obliged, regaling her with a surprisingly modest recount of what happened that day. Her eyes were wide as she realized that the tall, obnoxious boy that had so taunted and harrassed her was in truth a man-eating cyclops. From that moment on, Josh continued to his tales of the monsters he'd battled and defeated, Maddie the ever-captive audience to his tale. It was very late, she realized, looking at the watch she wore. They'd talked from noon to ten in the evening. She excused herself for a second, to make them something for dinner; just a simple something to make sure their stomachs were full.

The meal was eaten in relative silence. "I'm tired." Josh's voice was much smaller now, and it was kind of shy.

"I know, honey," Maddie acknowledge as she moved, letting one of Josh's hands go as she reached over and pulled his covers out of the way, making it easier for him to climb into bed.

Maddie raised his hand in her own and directed him over to his pillow, which must have been more comfortable than her lap even though he beat on the pillow a bit and frowned at the way it felt against his head. Josh laid down into his bed at last and Maddie helped him pull the covers up over his body. He looked at her until she let go of his hand, and it seemed like he was waiting for something from her. Maddie noticed then how very small he seemed in that big bed of his, all wrapped up tight.

Maddie leaned over him quietly, pressing her lips against his forehead gently and slowly. He gratefully accepted the gesture and closed his eyes for the duration of it. Pulling away at last, Maddie backed up off his bed and made certain he had everything he may need, before standing straight and heading for the door. She touched the light switch and the brightness disappeared, but still, in that blind darkness she turned back to see Josh's nearly invisible silhouette. With a small smile, she turned to leave, but was stopped halfway out the door.

"Hey, Mads?" Josh spoke to her without moving, and she looked back once more, "Would you mind, um, would you mind going to say goodnight to the kid for me?"

It was a rather big favour to ask, Maddie imagined. Josh would trust her with the habitual evening visit to his younger brother, to the girl who had meant so much to him. Whether either of them believed anything about ghosts or spirits, it didn't really matter. Maddie didn't hesitate though, and nodded into the darkness.

"Of course, honey," she agreed as she stepped out of the room, reaching back to grab the door knob and pulling it mostly shut, "Goodnight, Joshie."

"Night, Mads." His voice responded as he let her leave.

Maddie leaned against the wall just outside, where Josh couldn't see her. She put her hand to her face and closed her eyes, consumed and controlled by all that had just happened. It was so overwhelming, all of it, that she wanted to just fall down to her knees right there. But she had made a promise, and so she pushed off the wall and continued towards the desolate room a mere few feet from Josh's own.

Maddie twisted the door knob the same way Josh had the night before, gently and slowly as to not wake Adam, as if he herself was sleeping, all tucked up in the covers. Maddie went in, and though it was dim, she realized then that Adam's drapes had been left open, and the lights from the stars still shone in. She stepped onto the cold carpet, feeling it stick up between her toes in the curly, synthetic rounds. The messiness and lived-in feel reminded her of her sister's room, half-finished projects lying strew with toys and loved objects.

"Heya, Adam." Maddie's voice breached the silence, and she winced as it sounded forced or weird, like she somehow wasn't doing it right, "Your, uh, your brother, he's really tired. Otherwise he'd be here himself. Any who," she touched the corner of Adam's bed but pulled away suddenly, feeling like she was intruding, "I just came in to say goodnight. I won't stay long, I just—"

Maddie stopped suddenly as she noticed the picture that sat on Adam's night stand. She moved over to it and reached for the lamp, clicking it on and illuminating the figures that were contained within the thin, wooden frame. It was in her hands now, and her thumbs ran over the image softly. It was the both of them, Josh and his brother. Josh was all dressed up in a warrior's costume, bronze and metal armor, and he was flexing his arms up and winking, with that same old confidence he used to be known for. Hanging off one of his strong arms was that little brother of his, trying to make the same pose despite his small form and lack of definition.

Maddie placed the picture back where it belonged, the young boy suspended in time while his brother, just one door over, drowned himself for the end of that past. She looked over to that desk that Josh had leaned over the night before and fondled so admiringly. She moved over to it and looked at the pictures Adam had pushed across the wood; those worn, dull-tipped pencils tossed crooked between the pages. Maddie moved one picture, the one Josh himself had moved when they stood there last, and she looked at what Josh had seen.

It was right there, half-finished but remarkably realistic. The colours were bright and surreal, the composition accurate and the position true. Maddie lifted it out from under the other picture that lay atop it and the notebook which pinned but a corner. She held it out before herself, the lines drifting a bit as the light source blew through the thin paper and altered it. There in her hands, was Joshua Berkeley, grinning and laughing and bright-headed, and on his arm? It was her. A sword was in Josh's other hand this time, high above his head. A wicked-looking creature was under Josh's foot. This little boy had been working on a composition, a work of his brother and his best friend.

Maddie realized it then: why hadn't Adam said anything of curiosity in Josh's recollection of the accident? It was clear, he did not have to ask. He already knew the truth, he didn't care what Josh was supposedly hiding; in his eyes, Joshus was a hero one way or another. It didn't matter to him why. Besides, Josh was already his hero, there was nothing anyone could say that could ruin that.

Maddie slipped the picture back where she had found it, though those smiling, carefree expressions were burned into her head, half-coloured and all. She reached over and shut off the lamp, backing out of the room slowly. Maddie closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting the sights and smells and thoughts eat away at her for another moment longer.

She had to get Josh out of this house. He was living in a dream; a toxic, haunting dream.