note: You guys will have to let me know if I pulled this chapter off or not. Unfortunately, life gets ridiculously busy for me starting today, so I don't know if I'll be able to do weekly updates for a few weeks... but I certainly hope so! Writing is always very therapeutic for me. Special thanks go to Falco for helping me through a truly awful weekend. You are my favorite. And maybe things are looking up.

twenty-three: history.

My knees hit the ground hard, but that pain was the last thing on my mind as I clung to the floor's soft wood for support for my spinning head. I couldn't get my eyes to focus, everything was a fuzzy; Dutchy was a light blur to my right who sounded like he was throwing up every last one of his organs.

I was covered in a cold sweat and trying to stay at least semi-upright against the sudden flashes of pain in my head. I almost wished I would just pass out, but that was not a good idea, considering that I had no idea where we were. I couldn't get a hold of myself to even look around what I figured was a very small room. It was hot, and dusty, and I sneezed a few times, glad at least that there was a window, and that there was some amount of sun and I didn't have to deal with the darkness like at that warehouse with Spot. I groaned, my stomach flipping and sweat dripping into my eyes.

I gave up and flopped on my side, cradling my head with shaky hands. Dutchy crawled over to me, unable to catch his breath.

"Race," he gasped, still on his hands and knees. I didn't have the strength to talk. Slowly and painfully we made our way over to a wall and propped ourselves against it, exhausted. I groaned again.

It was my fault, but then again, what else were we supposed to do? We couldn't have stayed on the Other side, not without losing valuable time in the Dark. We had to cross back over, but crossing over twice within a matter of hours had had just the sort of effects I had warned Dutchy about – and now he got to experience them firsthand.

"How long does this last?" he got out, panting. He must have remembered… that was good, because there was no way I was going to waste my breath explaining it again. I shook my head, eyes closed.

"Dunno."

"What?"

"Depends. Just… shut up."

We sat like that, recuperating and just watching people go past the room's lone window for a good half hour before I had enough energy to stand. I did so, leaning heavily on the wall for support, and let myself out the door. I looked up and down the street and realized that we were less than a block away from the Brick.

"Oh," I said, feeling incredibly lucky. The door we'd gone through was controlled by Spot and his minions, and because I'd only used it rarely, I hadn't really remembered where it might spit us out. Now that I looked around, however, everything did look familiar. Sure, with that door you ended up in a tiny, dust filled room, but at least it was the same tiny, dust filled room every time.

"Do we have to go?" Dutchy asked, sounding just about as pathetic as I felt.

"The Brick is just a short walk away," I said, leaning against the doorframe and taking a deep breath. The floor was still spinning. I needed to lie down, but I didn't feel safe enough to just fall asleep in this room. I doubted that the outside door locked, and some people in the Dark liked nothing more than to take advantage of someone experiencing this… sicknesss. "We should go… we can do it."

He grumbled something that I couldn't hear and pulled himself up. "Let's get this over with," he sighed.

We stumbled out the door and went down the street, holding ourselves up and generally just looking completely drunk off our asses. This was almost funny, considering that it was early afternoon.

"Break time," Dutchy announced once we'd reached the front of the Brick. I didn't argue. We sat against the wall, eyes closed. I wiped sweat off my forehead, marveling at how bright it was that day. My head was still pounding, my stomach dangerously uneasy. How long would this condition last? I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten sick like this from crossing over. It was like drinking, really. When you were young and just trying everything out, you figured out what your limit was. Some people could cross over more often than others. I didn't know anyone else like Blink, who could do it whenever he wanted without any ill effects.

What had my limit been? I struggled with dismemory to call it up in my mind. Three days? Two? A week? No, not that long. I'd felt fine – Dutchy had, too – when we crossed to meet Spot, and we'd been in the Dark for… I stopped, dragging a sleeve across my forehead again. Too much thinking. It was making me even more queasy.

"Let's go," I said, glaring toward the door. I would have to climb those steps in a few seconds. "Blondie's probably been wondering where we were, anyway."

"You go," Dutchy said, waving his hand weakly. "I'll… I'll keep watch."

"Get up," I said, kicking him half-heartedly. "I want to sleep, and I want you to be around when I wake up. Which will hopefully be sometime next week."

"Shouldn't we tell Swifty about what Snoddy said?" Dutch asked as we fought to get through the inn's door.

"Yeah, go right ahead," I snorted. "It can wait. She's safe."

"How do you know? You guys said that the Iceman was…"

"I just know, okay? Just… know things like that."

"…you thought she was dead in the beginning and she was fine…"

I ignored that last comment and rested my elbows on the front desk. Blondie was nowhere to be seen, but she would probably be back soon. He was right. I'd been just as surprised as anyone else – except Swifty – when Sofia turned up alive. But I'd been in shock… right? Either way, I was in no condition to make the trip to Swifty's, and neither was Dutchy, so it would have to wait.

Blondie returned about a minute later, coming from the bar and shouting something over her shoulder, so she didn't see us until she was almost on top of us. She stopped short when she recognized my face and her eyes widened just a little.

"Kid, you gotta leave," she said, backing a few steps away.

"Me?" I asked in disbelief. "What?"

"Get out of here," she repeated with a shake of her head. "They're looking for you. Just leave."

"Wha – who's looking for us?" I demanded, taking a step toward her. But Blondie turned around.

"Leave," she said once more, firmly. "Don't tell me where you're going, I'm not even gonna look. Get outta here!"

I took another step forward, but Dutchy caught my elbow and gave me a warning look.

"Come on," he said, and I reluctantly followed him out the door. We took a right and walked quickly. Dutchy glanced over his shoulder a few times before I noticed and snapped at him.

"No one's following us," I said darkly. "Not right now."

"Are we going back to Swifty's?"

"Yeah."

"Don't we usually go the other way?"

"Yeah."

"…so…"

"…so we're going a different way, okay? Maybe it'll throw them off, maybe it won't. Either way we'll end up back at Swifty's, and if they know about the Brick, they probably know about Swifty, too, so I guess it doesn't make much difference, right? No difference besides maybe buying us some time."

"And who's they?" Dutchy asked without missing a beat.

"I don't know," I said automatically. I took a few deep breaths, but the stale city air did nothing to quiet my stomach or my head, which was still unsteady. I paused at the next street corner and leaned against a brick building, exhausted and achy. Dutchy didn't look much better.

"Break?" he asked hopefully. I didn't really hear him, though, I was still thinking about his last question.

"Brooklyn, maybe," I said, resting my forehead against the cool bricks. "Or maybe whoever has Sofia. Iceman. Yeah. I dunno." I took another deep breath, then pushed off from the wall and continued at our earlier pace. "No break," I said.

We walked, stopping periodically to regain our breath, for I guess almost two hours before we reached Swifty's street. I'd rarely been so happy to see his house as I was then. He had the door open right after I knocked and almost pulled us in. We went into the main room and I set the box on the table in front of the couch, glad to finally put it down.

"What's that?" Swifty asked quickly. I just shrugged.

"Good question. See for yourself. Spot said it would work, said it was… a part of him. Of Brooklyn, I mean." It was only then that I noticed that Spot's key was still in the lock. It was almost fitting – we had his key, and he had kept Sofia's locket.

Swifty eyed the box but made no move to look inside. I took advantage of the lapse and laid on the couch, closing my eyes with a heavy sigh. Dutchy collapsed into one of the chairs and groaned appreciatively.

"Start from the beginning," Swifty said, taking a mug from the mantle and standing in front of the unlit fireplace with a frown. He did not look good. I didn't know how Dutch and I looked, but it couldn't have been worse than Swifty. His eyes were red, his hair all over the place, his clothes rumpled and a little askew. He wasn't Swifty; he wasn't put together, casual in a purposeful way. He was lost, and he smelled like booze.

"I guess Sofia didn't turn up," Dutchy said. Swifty ignored him.

"I showed Dibs the locket and we got to see Spot," I said, wanting to tell the story as quickly as possible so I could sleep. "Spot didn't want to talk. He looked busy… distracted. Same thing, though, I gave him the locket and suddenly he found the time."

Swifty smirked a little at that. "Yeah."

"Well he wanted to know what was wrong, where she was, all that. Of course, I mean, we don't know – we didn't know."

"What?" Swifty asked, coming forward. He moved the box and sat on the table so he was only about a foot away from me. "Didn't? Do you know now?"

"Let me tell the story," I said.

"I don't give a fuck about your story-" Swifty began, but I continued on anyway.

"So we tell Spot everything that's been going on and he takes me to this weird empty warehouse place. It was dark, real dark, and we went into the basement and got this box. The key to unlock it was around his neck. He was real protective of the thing, and didn't really want to give it up. He said he'd had it ever since he was exiled. Said it was his key to getting back in power in the Dark."

Swifty took another look at the box but still didn't touch it.

"I guess he figured that if it would be destroyed when we made the Cure… well, it was just the same as him destroying it himself, or whatever he had planned to do. So, now, we do it. And he'll be ready. Said he'd been stalling. Yeah. He's ready."

"Spot's coming back?"

"Soon."

He nodded.

"So on our way back we ran into Snoddy. It definitely wasn't an accident, though. The kid was, like… waiting for us. Dunno how he knew, it's Snoddy. Snoddy says that his boss – Iceman – has Sofia."

"Iceman," Swifty repeated.

"Yeah," I said. "And that's it. He split right after, and then we came back over."

"You guys are in rough shape," Swifty said, standing and giving me more room. He turned so we wouldn't see his smirk, which was very kind of him. I glowered anyway.

"Yeah," I said, "well, we weren't thinking. Not that it would have mattered. We didn't have the time to hang out on the Other side for a day or two. And Dutch doesn't even know his limits."

"Are you going to tell him about Blondie?" Dutchy asked, probably to get the focus off of him and his inexperience.

"You go ahead," I answered, closing my eyes again. I didn't think it was that important, and I was glad to stop talking. I heard Swifty finally take a seat.

"Who's Blondie?" asked Swifty.

"She, um… she's the red head at the desk at the Brick," Dutchy said.

"Oh, yeah," said Swifty, but I don't know if he actually remembered.

"Anyways… we tried to get into the Brick for the night, but Blondie pushed us out. Said someone was looking for us. 'They.' We dunno who 'they' is, though. So we came here instead. Anyways, I thought we should tell you. Cause, you know, they'd probably be looking here, too. Or that's what Race said," he added.

"You went to the Brick before here?" Swifty asked, sounding amused. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that he was actually seething. He didn't like that we were going to stay the night somewhere else – and thus put off telling him what we know about Sofia's whereabouts – and he was right. It was a dumb decision, but it didn't matter anymore. We were here. And he knew what we knew.

"We were in rough shape," I reminded him in a poor attempt at an excuse.

"Um, we are going to be okay, right?" Dutchy asked, returning to his last point. "I mean… will they come looking here?"

"It doesn't matter," Swifty said offhandedly. "They can't… we're fine here. Race when were you planning on leaving?"

"For Sofia? Um… not now?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Swifty," I said, sitting up and wincing. "We need rest. Badly. We need to sleep the night away. We can leave early in the morning, fine. But we won't make any progress if we leave right now, feeling like we do. Come on. You know this. It's just one night."

Swifty nodded slowly, looking anxious and a little irritated. "Go to bed, then," he said, standing and walking to the kitchen. I twisted around to look at Dutchy, who just shrugged.

"Alright," I said, getting up slowly. I was dizzy and my vision kept fading dangerously. At this moment, the stairs were absolutely not my friend. Once I reached the door, I gave up my dignity and crawled up, anticipating the bed that awaited me. Below, I could hear Dutchy struggling after me, but, louder than that, was the banging of pots and pans and who knows what else in the kitchen. It sounded like it was going to be another long night for Swifty.

If I thought that I was going to be able to drop right off to sleep, I was wrong. Apparently, Dutchy was feeling better, because as soon as we were both settled in bed, I heard him turn over and I could just feel his eyes on me.

"What?" I said flatly, hoping whatever he wanted would be quick and easy to take care of.

He didn't answer for a few moments, and when he finally spoke up, his voice was quiet. "Is he okay?"

I frowned and turned so I was facing in his direction. "Who? Swifty?" I asked, my voice dropping, too.

"Yeah. He's just… he's a lot different than when we first got here, you know?" I didn't comment. "Is it… is it because of Sofia? Do they… I mean, and Spot…" he trailed off, and right then I gave up on the fantasy that I would get much sleep. Because holding out on Dutch just wouldn't be fair. By this point, after all that we'd dealt with… well, I guess he had a right to know. Everything. So… how to start?

"It's not just Sofia," I said finally. "He's… he's unpredictable, you know? He's like a bomb, just waiting to go off. I guess Sofia was the spark." I fell silent.

"So I guess he wasn't always like this, then, huh?"

"Nah," I said softly. When I didn't continue, Dutchy's voice grew hard.

"I'm not stupid Race, okay? I mean, I don't know much about the Dark. But that doesn't mean I can't read people, and it doesn't mean I don't notice what's going on around me. Swifty let us in that day even though it was dangerous. He wanted to help me – we barely knew each other, and he clearly didn't like you. So why did he still do it? And why is he still mean to you? And why did you come here if you knew he would act this way?"

"That's a lot of questions," I said. This time it was Dutchy who refused to comment. He expected answers. I sighed. "I'll tell you a story, Dutch, but you can't interrupt. I'll try to answer your questions, but you have to give me time."

"I'm listening.'
"Alright." I let out another big breath and squeezed my eyes shut. This was exactly the type of thing I'd been trying to avoid for the past year or so.

"Swifty and I were never close at the Lodging House," I began, eyes still closed. "We knew each other, of course. And I knew that he spent time in the Dark. So did his… girl. Maddie." I had to stop already and collect my thoughts, but true to his promise, Dutchy didn't say a word. "Sometimes we ran into each other there – I mean, here. We were friendly, always got along. Sometimes we'd have a beer together. He was a fun kid, you know? Always quick to smile. Real sarcastic – dry humored, I guess, because he was never mean. His girl, his… Maddie, she was an angel. She was the best part of him.

"It was weird for awhile, I mean we saw each other more and more in the Dark but barely exchanged words on the Other side. We were both doing a lot of work in the Dark, so it was just as well, and we grew closer. That's how I met Sofia. She was close with them.

"Something happened. Nothing is ever stable here in the Dark, there's always some battle or feud going on… it's just a matter of scale. How big it is, who is involved. Well, something happened one day when we were on this side, and all the doors – the gateways that we've been using? They all stopped working.

"That alone was enough of a reason to panic. Sure, we spent a lot of time here, but no one wanted to be stuck in the Dark. Especially not after you reach that age, whatever it is, and suddenly you ain't as useful as you used to be, right? Anyway, everyone was real upset about that. No one we talked to could remember it ever having happened before.

"We figured we would just wait it out. And we did, for a little while. But the doors had been closed purposefully. A lot of people… powerful people… were angry at each other. Things started getting… a little out of control. And soon no one who had ties to the Other side wanted to be in the Dark. It was dangerous. If you weren't already on a side, you were basically assigned to one. And no one wanted to be fighting for something they didn't even understand.

"And that… believe it or not… is when things got bad." I stopped here to take a break and catch my breath. Luckily my head was feeling a lot better, or else I wouldn't have even made it that far in the story. It hurt, though; it ached to say the words. And it was only going to get harder. But Dutchy was silent, rapt with attention.

"Maddie had a power like the rest of us. She could open doors. I don't know why we didn't just leave in the beginning, when we realized what was happening. It was hard for her, though, and she didn't really like doing it. And I guess we didn't want to bring attention to ourselves… that was even more true as time went on, because bringing attention to ourselves meant getting caught.

"Finally, though, we decided to just do it and try to get away. But then… then Maddie was kidnapped. Right out from under us.

"We went after her, of course, and that's a whole other story. We caused a lot of trouble, but we got her. Well…

"The way things worked, we had this plan, this perfect plan. Damned if I can remember the details, but Swifty had recently gotten this house and the last part of the deal would be that he would be waiting here for her. The house wasn't a permanent thing, though. That I do remember. It was a place where we could all lay low, maybe where Maddie could open a door if we ever felt safe enough. But… that's not the story.

"I was supposed to bring Maddie to Swifty. God, were we glad to see each other." Here I hesitated only the slightest bit, telling myself, if I just say it, and I say it fast, that's it, it's over, he'll know… it's over… "We never got to Swifty's. They… I don't know who… I can't remember, or I won't… if it's who had her, or the other side, but they caught up. They caught up to us and they killed her. They killed her right in front of me. They didn't even look at me, but they… I can't… I couldn't move after… I couldn't blink… It… It wasn't just a shot in the head, Dutch, they…

"…When I could function again, I left. I just left. I went across the city, and once the problem was fixed, I went to the Other side and I never looked back. I went back to the Lodging House and just tried to forget. Swifty knew where to find me, but he didn't. He hasn't left the Dark since."

There was a long, long silence. Maybe Dutchy still thought that he couldn't ask any questions, or that I wasn't done with my story. So I added a little more explanation.

"That's why Swifty hates me, Dutch. It's not just because Maddie died. That was more grief than anything, at least at first… at least from what I heard. Swifty hates me because I left. Because I left, and I never even told him. Swifty hates me because I ran away. I ran away, but he's been hiding here ever since."

"And coming with me… that was the first time you'd seen him?" Dutchy asked.

"Yeah."

"So… I know I already asked this, but… why did he help? He didn't owe me anything, and hated… hates… you."

"Because," I said, "It's you. It's you and Specs." The connection didn't take long to dawn on him.

"Maddie was his Love," he said, sounding almost in awe. He didn't meet people like him and Specs often. No one did. It wasn't a common thing, this 'Love' business. Some people didn't even think it was real, but I'd had more than enough experience to believe in it.

"Maddie was his Love," I echoed sorrowfully.

After that, we were both silent. But silence is not one of Dutchy's strong points.

"And Sofia?" he asked.

"They're like brother and sister. Sofia, she's been with Spot for a while, and nobody is gonna touch that because nobody is gonna mess with Spot. But Swifty, you know… for him it's just like a nightmare. He loses Maddie, he loses Sofia. It brings up all that stuff, the stuff I left to forget. He's been dwelling in it for… well, years, in Dark time."

Dutchy thought about this. "And he kept the house?"

"Yeah, he kept the house. Fixed it up some."

"Oh."

"Listen, do me a favor… just… don't mention any of this, right? Don't say the name Maddie. Don't… just don't bring it up."

"Yeah, of course. Do you… do you think maybe he'll ever forgive you?"

I didn't answer for a while. Dutchy probably figured I'd fallen asleep, but finally, because I truly didn't know how to answer, I rolled back over and said,

"Do you?"