The only reason I'm posting this even though I only got one review last chapter is because I was late for that chapter and I figured I kind of deserve it. Not gonna happen again. No reviews, no chapter. Also, I know I said this was going to be the last chapter, but it's not. It just got waay too long, so I split it in half. It's still way too long. Next chapter will be up when I get five reviews.

This chapter is dedicated to Elfera because she has been an amazing reader and has reviewed to every chapter. Thank you!

Chapter 12

I stood behind the door that led to my dad's (Mr. King's) room. I stared at the doorknob. I concentrated as hard as I could on that doorknob. I tried thought speaking to it. I tried hypnotizing it. It didn't open on its own. It's a very stubborn doorknob.

I sighed dramatically. I guess I had to make the first move. Stupid, stupid doorknob.

I stood there for another five minutes trying to convince myself that it was just my dad. It wasn't Visser Three teamed up with Crayak and a giant squid that were out to get me. It was just my dad. Whose wife I killed. Who might hate me. The same dad that I trusted and cared about and I'd betrayed. Man, that was worse.

I turned to leave, but Erek's words stopped me. "He loves you." I knew he did. Of course he did. I was his son.

I willed myself to open the doorknob. Okay, at the count of three. One, two, two and a half, two and three quarters, two and seven eights, two and... Three. My hand didn't comply. Okay, again. One... My hand shot out and opened the door. I stared at it in shock. Traitor! I thought.

The door opened slightly. He doesn't hate you, I told myself. He's your dad. He loves you.

Before I had the chance to turn around, I fully opened the door. And for an instant he was facing me and I saw him. His eyes were puffy and red. I could tell he had been crying. He was pale and had bags under his eyes. There was an aura of misery around him.

As soon as he saw who I was he turned around, facing the wall. My heart sank.

"Dad?" I called out softly. He didn't turn around. "I'm sorry." He didn't budge. I felt a wave of panic. "Dad… Dad look at me!"

He turned around. There was a guarded look in his eyes.

"I want you to tell me how you know about the Yeerks and how you got the morphing power." There was a coldness in his voice he'd never used with me before. I dismissed it.

So, I told him. I told him how Stiliam gave us the power to morph when we stupidly crossed the construction site. I told him about how he told us about the Yeerks. I told him that he was murdered by Visser Three. I told him about the Chee and how we saved Ax from the bottom of the sea. And I told him how long we'd be fighting. Almost two years.

Through it all he listened intently. Never interrupting. Never asking questions. Never showing emotion. That was what bothered me the most. When I finished, a smirk appeared on his face.

"Well, no wonder. No person can remain a person after so many battles." The coldness in his voice was astounding, and I stared at him.

"What?" I asked shocked. What was he saying?

"No decent person could remain decent after two years of war," he stated calmly.

I knew what he was implying, and for a second my heart stopped. Then it started again, faster. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The pain was so intense it was almost real.

I did the only think I could think of because, really, what could I say to that? I snapped back.

"Yes, well, you wouldn't know that. All you know how to do is sit back and watch other people fight your battles." My words were harsh and meant to hurt. I got the reaction I expected. He sat up, rage written on his face.

He started screaming. I shouted right back. He called me ruthless, coldhearted, and a terrible son. I said he was selfish and a coward. He said I was foolish and naïve to think children could ever win a war. I said he was blind and a horrible father for not realizing his own son had become a warrior. He said he would have never thought I could have sank so low.

"What do you know?" I screamed. "I'm trying to save the world!" And he just called me foolish. I called him a coward again.

At some point I started crying. I didn't really care. Neither did he. He was crying too.

Normally, I would have instantly apologized for crossing the line. Normally, he hated seeing me cry. Normally, neither of us would have even thought about saying anything as remotely painful. But these weren't normal circumstances. They would never be the normal we knew anymore. Because my mom was dead. Nothing would change that.

I said he should feel ashamed. I, the child, had gone off to fight evil while he, the father and the adult, sat on his butt and did nothing. Because I had taken the role as the protector.

"Protector?" he asked sarcastically. "What a great job you've done!" I said he was ungrateful.

"What should I be grateful for? You sentenced your own mother to death!"

I stopped. And there it was. He had gone and said it. His face instantly dropped, and he looked regretful. I guess he realized the damage he had caused.

"Tobias…"

But I was already gone. I slammed the door so hard on my way out it was a miracle it didn't fall. Erek was in the hallway. He had been eavesdropping. He tried to stop me, but I very politely told him to let me go.

As soon as I reached my (Erek's) room I shut the door and threw the pillow across the room. Then I got up, got the pillow, threw it back on the bed, threw myself on the bed, and screamed into the pillow. It was so stereotypically teenage-like I almost kicked myself for doing it. But I was too busy kicking myself over my mother's death. I was kicking myself for making my dad suffer. And I was hating him for blaming me.

How could he say that? How could he say that? I was his son. He was supposed to comfort me. He was supposed to be the adult and make the hard choices and be the one to apologize. Not me.

I screamed again. And again. Eventually, I stopped. Eventually, my loud sobs quieted, and I managed to calm down.

How was I supposed to deal with this? How was I supposed to look my dad in the eyes when he couldn't even stand me? He hated me. My God, he hated me.

I sat up and wiped the tears off my face. No more crying. I was stronger than that. I hoped.

I didn't get off, though. I just leaned back and closed my eyes. At some point I fell asleep. The next thing I knew Erek was shaking me awake. I groggily sat up. He was holding a cup of ramen noodles. Chili and lime flavor. My favorite.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Late," he replied. I looked out the window and noticed it was night time. I slept all day. It certainly didn't feel like it. "Here," Erek said, handing over the cup. I just stared at it.

"I'm not hungry."

"Tobias, you haven't eaten in two days. Eat the noodles." Right. Since that night. Had it really been two days? It felt like an eternity.

I grabbed the cup from his hands. "Fine." My stomach flipped. I really wasn't hungry. I played with the noodles a bit, twirling them around with my fork.

Erek glared at me. "Eat it or I will shove it down your throat."

"Aggressive," I muttered. I reluctantly ate a fork-full anyways. And then I barely made it to the trash can to throw it up. And even after my body rid itself of the noodles it insisted on throwing up my intestines, too. I dry heaved into the trash can.

"Tobias?" Erek asked, concerned. "Tobias?"

"I'm fine," I whispered. "I'm fine."

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and turned around. He was shaking his head. "No, you're not." But he didn't say anything else and left.

I was fine. I was. Or at least, I would be fine. I could deal. I can deal. And with that last thought, I climbed back to bed and fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up with the urge to pee. When I finished I tried to open the door to the restroom to get out, but it was stuck and I couldn't open it. As I was shaking the door handle, Erek's voice came from outside. "I'm not letting you out until you take a shower and brush your teeth. You smell like crap."

I rolled my eyes. "You know you can't lock me in here, right? I'll either morph small or knock the door down." Erek didn't open the door. I sighed. "I need clothes, you know?"

"They're in the cabinet. When you're done, come downstairs to eat." So he had this all planned out…

I ended up wasting an hour in the shower enjoying the feeling of hot water running down my back. I brushed my teeth and put on some clothes. They were Erek's clothes, of course. It was too dangerous to go to my house for mine. When I looked in the mirror, I noticed I didn't look as bad at the previous days. I still wasn't ready to make an appearance in the Book of World's Records as the happiest kid alive, but I was fine. I was okay.

I went down stairs to eat some breakfast and saw that my dad had been dragged down, too, though it was obvious the Chee hadn't managed to force him in the shower.

As soon as he saw me, he grabbed his plate, got up, and brushed past me to head upstairs. I felt a stab of pain at his rejection and bit my lip. Don't cry, I ordered myself.

"Al!" Mr. King called after him and rushed upstairs after giving me an apologetic look. Erek put his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm fine," I told him.

"He doesn't mean it, you know. He's hurting."

"Yeah, so am I, but I'm not rejecting him."

"Tobias…"

"I know, I know. He didn't kill the person I love." And I tried to imagine it. Him killing off Rachel. It wasn't the same, of course it wasn't. I cared about Rachel and you could even go as far as to say I loved her, but not enough to marry her. Not yet. And there was another huge difference. Rachel was a warrior, and she would gladly accept her fate. And as much as it would destroy me, I would understand because I'm a warrior, too. My dad wasn't.

"He loves you," Erek said simply.

"Yeah, well, he has a funny way of showing it," I replied and brushed past him to get to the table. We were eating pancakes.

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took my first bite. I dug in and got up for seconds. We were quiet, and I guess Erek found the silence awkward because he turned on the TV.

"… and investigations are still being made. Please, if you see this man, call the police immediately. He is dangerous. His wife found was found decapitated at the abandoned construction site near the mall two nights ago." Erek made a move to turn of the TV, but I stopped him.

"The police says they caught him running away with the axe he used to kill her, but the man escaped. His son, 14 year-old Tobias Fangor (screw the no last name rule. The Yeerks already know who I am) is officially missing, and we fear the worst." The TV turned off. I kept staring at it in shock. Of course, the Yeerks had lied.

"They called him a criminal. He's never going to be able to face society again." I let out a groan and slumped in my chair.

"It's not like he could have either way. The Yeerks know who he is," Erek consoled me.

"But now so do the authorities!"

"Tobias, listen to me. It doesn't matter anymore, and it's not your fault." I tried to calm down. He was probably right. But I wasn't hungry anymore.

I went upstairs and fell on the bed. At that moment everything sunk it. I was missing, probably dead. My life as a middle schooler, my life in general, was over. I couldn't get out of the house anymore. Not as myself. That wasn't a huge problem for me because I could morph. We had a no morphing sentient beings rule, but who cared? Besides I didn't think the other Animorphs would mind me borrowing their DNA. My dad, though, was a different story. He didn't have the morphing power so he either needed a very good disguise or a hologram to get out.

I smiled at myself, thinking about my dad in a disguise. I was sent back into the world of memories to a time way before I knew about the Yeerks. It was Halloween and I was about six. I had begged my dad go trick-or-treating with me. In a clown costume. After pleading and throwing a tantrum my dad agreed and I remember my smiling figure oblivious to the embarrassment my dad was going through, and him muttering, "Let this be proof that I love you, kid. The things I do for you."

The memory was pleasant but unwanted. I didn't need to be reminded of what I had lost. I looked around, desperate for a distraction. It was then I realized how blank the room was. At least it was compared to mine. My room was covered in drawings and posters and pictures. A couple of months back my dad had found my journal full of drawings. He had them all copied and my mom made me color some. Then he had them all laminated and they put them up in my room. They kept some they considered the best and posted them in random places at the house. They said I should get used to seeing my work displayed for when I became a famous artist.

Of course, I never said anything about wanting to be an artist. I never said anything about any profession. I hadn't even considered it because I was too wrapped up on the war to think about my future. Actually, drawing was kind of an outlet. It was a distraction and kind of therapeutic, I guess, for when the missions got too out of hand. I didn't draw anything Yeerk-related, of course. It'd be suicide if anyone found them.

Well, I need a distraction right now, I thought. I searched through Erek's drawers and eventually came to a journal and a pencil.

I started drawing a landscape and immediately relaxed. Thoughts of my parents vanished and I focused entirely on the drawing. It wasn't until I was almost done that my brain caught up with me, and I realized what I had just done. I won't deny it; it was a nice, detailed drawing. And I hated it. See, I had unconsciously drawn a picture of the beautiful waterfall my parents had taken me to once. I was actually just about to draw us smiling in the middle of the page. I tore it up and threw it away.

I felt my stomach twist and I had the urge to throw up. I had the urge to cry. I did neither. I looked at the digital clock next to me. I'd wasted two hours on that worthless drawing. Good. Two hours down, a ton more to go.

I leaned back and wondered what the hell I was going to do with my life besides fighting Yeerks. It seemed as if that was all I had now. But no, that wasn't true. I had Erek. I had the other Animorphs. I had Rachel.

Speaking of which, fifteen minutes later she barged into the house. I heard Erek tell her something and she shouted at him. Then she ran upstairs and slammed my door open. She came over to the bed and opened her arms. I fell into her embrace.

She just held me for a few minutes until I choked out, "I'm okay." She shook her head and didn't let me go.

"No, you're not." I wasn't. I didn't think I ever would be again. But I would try.

"He hates me," I whispered.

She let me go and gave a long sympathetic look. I didn't cry, but God, I wanted to. "He doesn't know what it's like."

She didn't try to comfort with kind words or "everything is going to be okay" speeches or "of course he doesn't hate you". For that I was glad because really, things were wrecked and gray. Besides, we were never the type to be overly sappy and sweet, and we didn't sugar coat things.

Maybe he hated me and maybe he didn't. It didn't really matter because either way he was ignoring me. Rejecting me.

I didn't answer. I just lay back. She did the same, and we ended up laying side by side. Everything was silent for a few minutes until she talked. "I wanted to come before, but Erek stopped me. He said you just weren't in the mood and I figured I would just leave you to your PMSing." I rolled my eyes, but slowly a grin appeared on my face.

"Very funny." She nodded.

"I am. You're not. See? Opposites do attract," she said in a mock matter-of-fact voice. And we settled into an easy banter.

For the next hour everything was fine and I momentarily forgot all about my parents. Or at least, I set it aside. Eventually, though, all good things end, and she regretfully announced that she had to go home to babysit her little sisters.

As soon as she left, the familiar sinking feeling came back and I reached for the journal. This time, I didn't draw anything that reminded me of my parents. Instead I drew something that represented freedom. My favorite morph, red-tailed hawk.

When I was halfway through the picture and half a halk eye was looking up at me, the door creaked open. Without looking up I said, "Erek, I think I can survive five minutes without you checking up on me."

"I don't think you need anyone looking after you," my dad answered.