A/N: I've decided to get some characters installed into Anna's tentacles. I hadn't realized 'til now that they were like monotonous robots. You'll notice traits in them that their ancestors possessed. Anyway, so here are a few notes.

Top right: very matter-of-fact. States the truth, scientific. Can be a power-hog over its siblings at times.

Top left: curious one. Is eager to learn and cares about its host.

Bottom left: A little bit of a pushover, questions things, and very often starts the fights.

Bottom right: playful one. Ready to try something new, never scared to take a chance. Notices things with human emotion like humor, sadness, and friskiness.

I know this is a little late in the story, but maybe it'll add more to the table.

Yes Lady Suneidesis, I have been studying the CivilWar. I didn't think about what I named him 'til it was all said and done. I can't believe I named him that...

I don't know what happened to Harry. I've been trying to fit him in but I can't find any part for him to play. He might come in, hopefully, but he might not. It depends if I can find something for him to do.

Chapter 17 –Up and Down

When Hillary and Anna got to school the next day, everything seemed back to normal—in fact, it looked as if nothing had happened in the first place. Well, according to the school, nothing had. The classes carried on as usual, the cafeteria still smelled of burnt spaghetti, students still hurried past the brick wall by the dumpster hoping that they wouldn't witness a crime. It was as if they never left.

The school had hoped and believed that Anna had transferred out of the school and were taken by surprise when she walked down the hallway. Anna didn't care; she didn't care of much since the other night. And she had been carrying on about it to Hillary, whether she liked it or not.

Though a little annoyed with this, apology was sprinkled in once in a while, so she could take it. Hillary simply smiled and shook her head as he friend went on.

"And you would not believe the look in his eyes. It was like magic," Anna said dreamily. "You know how it is when you look down at a beaker of chemicals being washed down the drain into a leak-proof container and it's just a mess of swirling colors?"

"No, I can't imagine that I have," Hillary replied. Anna smacked her hand to her head and laughed a little at her comment.

"I guess you wouldn't have. Your dad doesn't do a bunch of experiments at home," she said. Hillary smiled at this also; it was nice to see Anna so happy. In fact, she had never seen her this happy in her life. The happiest her friend had been was that half-second spark when John asked her on the date.

At this point, she would talk about anything to keep the mood going, even if it were her cousin and Anna's obsessively passionate love for him. "I've never seen chemicals running down the drain, but I do know what you are talking about," she replied. "Isn't it the coolest feeling ever?"

"Oh yeah!" Anna exclaimed as they made it to Current Events (which is a class where you learn about the happenings in the world today). Anna opened the door and rested a hand on it. She turned to her friend. "And I really am sorry for attacking you back there."

"Oh it's fine! Stop bringing it up," Hillary forgave her for the thirteenth time. "You were confused. And hey, didn't I say that you'd thank me later?" They made their way towards the back row and took their seats.

Anna blushed. "Yeah, but it was so hard to see when you said it. It was like my hands were tied behind my back and no matter how hard I tried, they didn't come loose." Her giddy, love-struck smile was suddenly wiped clean and a serious, truthful look came into her eyes. "I tried my absolute hardest to get free; I hope you know that."

Hillary smiled encouragingly. "I do." She assured her.

Their teacher, Mr. Bae-conbits walked into the room with his grade book under one arm. The room quieted slightly as if to fool him that they had been that way the entire time. "Sorry I'm late class, I had a—uh—matter to attend to." After setting the book on the table, he looked up at the class for the first time that day and noticed an unexpected sight. "Anna, what are you doing here?"

A quizzical expression came upon Anna's face as she spoke. "I go to school here Mr. Baconbits."

"It's Bae-conbits Miss Octavious." The teacher corrected her.

Bacon bits? Isn't that a food? The bottom left asked.

Yes, it is a food. The top right stated with intelligence.

Bacon bits? The top left inquired.

Why is he named Bacon Bits? That's a queer name. The bottom right said.

Bacon bits? The top left pressed.

"Yes, his name is Bae-conbits." Anna told the tentacles. She agreed with them; why did he insist on being called Bae-conbits instead of Baconbits? Aren't they the same thing?

Mr. Bae-conbits noticed the tentacles curling around Anna and squeaking but not wanting to offend her lest those metal snakes lunge into action, moved right along to taking roll. He began calling off names.

"Brock?"

"Here."

"Amanda?"

"Yup."

"Natalie?"

"Mm-hm."

"Jake?"

"Mm."

"Anna?"

squeak "Anna?" he repeated. "Oh, I'm here. Sorry." She looked down at the bottom right tentacle that almost seemed to smile proudly. "Don't do that," she whispered to it.

I just wanted to see what was so intriguing about creating sound with one's vocal cords in response to a name. It apologized.

"Really, it isn't about fun, we do it so that Mr. Bae-conbits doesn't mark us as absent." Anna explained to them.

You mean Mr. Bacon Bits?

"Yes, him."

The tentacles were not satisfied. What does 'marking us' mean? The top left asked.

"Let's see, how do I explain it… well, it's when he sees that we aren't there and thinks that we didn't come to class that day. Then he writes our name down and gives it to someone from the office and they mark it in your permanent record."

Ahhhh…..

All the students were here and he put away his grade book for the time being. "OK," he spoke up. "Take out your workbook pages from yesterday and trade them please." The classroom hummed with the quick rustle of papers between sets of friends to avoid having to hand them to members of other cliques. "Miss Octavious and Parker, I expect you to have these assignments finished by next Tuesday." Mr. Bae-conbits said handing a sheet of paper to each girl.

Anna and Hillary nodded in obedience. "Good. Now, for the rest of you," He walked behind his podium to read from the answer sheet. "Number one is A, number two is C…"

XXX

Otto was working at the kitchen table on a bundle of wires to untangle the one that he needed. Sadly, it was near the center of the mess and was proving to be a struggle to get loose. He wanted to simply cut it out with a pair of scissors, but still needed the other wires, so he was forced to work at it tenderly and patiently—or as patiently as he could at this point.

The phone rang. The top left tentacle took it from its stand and put it to Otto's ear. "Hello?" he said into the receiver.

"Hello, is Otto Octavious there?" A feminine voice came on the other line.

"This is him speaking," Otto replied.

"Oh Otto! This is your mother. I didn't recognize your voice, it's gotten so scratchy," the woman exclaimed.

Otto attempted to clear his throat. Sure the fusion reaction took a toll on him, but it hadn't hurt his voice so much that his own mother didn't recognize him, had it?

"How've you been doing?" she asked merrily.

"Fine," Otto replied. By the tone in his mother's voice, he could tell that this wasn't just a friendly call to chat. "How about you?"

"Oh, we're fine. The cat caught another rat. You know, sometimes I wonder if our property houses all the rodents in New York City because every time—" she was cut off by a male voice in the background.

"Margaret," it said, "You need to stop stalling." Silence was present afterwards and it was confirmed that bad news was to come.

"Otto sweetie, your father and I have been talking. We don't' think it's right for you to be—um—connected with us right now, and maybe you need some time to sort things out and—not to say that we don't love you anymore honey, it's just—" Otto's father seized the phone in his hand and spoke quicker and more confident.

"Listen, you need to shape up. And until you do, Mom and I are renting a hotel room in Chicago," he stated.

Otto was speechless. "But why?"

"It's like your mother said; you need some time from the family to get your priorities straight."

"You—you're afraid of me?" Otto asked in surprise.

"No, but we think it would be best if you—"

"You don't trust me, do you? Even though I've gone fourteen years without committing a single crime."

"It's not that we don't trust you, it's that you need some 'you' time." His father explained.

"But why are you moving so far away?" his parents could not answer that. "You are afraid of me," Otto concluded. "You don't think I can control my actuators. I can!"

"Like you did at that jail."

"Yes! –No. How did you hear about that?"

"It doesn't matter. You aren't capable of fully handling your actuators."

"But I am! My last experiment was a success. If I couldn't handle them, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything but fusion." Or whatever they desired to do. Otto didn't add.

"You hurt Anna by giving her tentacles." His father pressed.

"I did not do it on purpose!"

"She was such a sweet, care-free girl—"

"Dick, don't be too hard on him," Margaret pleaded in the background.

"She still is!" Otto said.

"You had to put her through all that suffering—"

"I did not mean to! Please stop bringing it up!"

Silence.

"You can't even control your anger for more than five minutes." His father finally said calmly. "Bottom line, until you've fixed your life and the crime stops, you don't belong to this family."

"But I—"

"Can it Otto! That's all I have to say. Goodbye." Before Otto could plead again, the phone clicked and the voice was no more.

The tentacle set the receiver back in the stand slowly. Those were harsh words.

He should be ashamed of them.

He should not have talked to us in that way.

Otto added nothing but stared on the opposite wall with his lips pursed.

Would a break help ease emotion?

"No. There's no reason to take a break. There's work to be done." With that, Otto began yanking at wires and tearing them apart with more force and zeal than before. His parents rejected him, so what? He'd still continue. No words were going to hinder his work progress…not even such piercing ones…

XXX

Near lunch, when most of the school had heard that Anna was back, no one would look her in the eye. The other students went along with their daily routine pretending like Anna wasn't even there. And when she talked to them, their faces would go whiter than a cherry blossom and they would run off. Hillary tried to spout reasons why they did this but none were likely and none satisfying.

Anna decided that she'd try to get some people to spill the beans and Hillary offered to help. But even with both girls asking around about what had happened—Hillary having more luck than Anna—it wasn't 'til eighth period that someone finally cracked. And when they did, Hillary regretted even knowing.

"You haven't heard?" the person asked Hillary. "It's been all over the school—and the news."

"Must be big." Hillary thought.

"Some poor kid was stabbed." the boy turned pale even as he spoke making a gesture over his chest. "Right through the heart."

Hillary's instincts didn't lie. It was horrible to think that someone would even take to mind the thought of stabbing someone else. Sure, she saw it on movies, heard it on the news, and from her dad, but it makes all the difference when it happens in one's own school—even if they haven't been there that long.

"Any idea about who did it?" Hillary said trying to push her heart back down her throat.

"Yeah," he replied glancing towards Anna working on an art project at another table though the tentacles seemed overly alert. "Her."

Hillary couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Her? Anna?" she asked.

"Yeah, Anna." He looked a couple ways before speaking again. "Did you notice that she was absent all week? Do you think it happened then?"

Hillary didn't know what to say. For once in her life, she was having trouble sticking up for her friend. She had trouble because no single answer would solve everything. She'd get hurt either way. Even so, she knew she had to say something.

"I was gone also," "Choose your words carefully," Hillary told herself. "We both had—uh" Oh no! Not a dead end! Not now! Hillary groped for more words. "A—uh—the flu. We were both over at my house. She didn't leave that door all week, I swear."

The boy furrowed his brow in thought. "Then I wonder who did it. The guy wasn't all that big or threatening. I mean, sure he was kind of handsome, but nothing really threatening."

"That's really sad. What grade was he in?"

"No one's sure. He transferred in not to long ago. But I'd say he was about tenth." The boy replied shaking his head sorrowfully.

"Would you happen to know when the memorial service is?" Hillary asked. Maybe if she got that information from the boy, she and Anna could attend and show that neither of them hated the boy in the least.

"No, I didn't hear much else about him, 'cept his name."

"What was his name?"

"John Calhoun."