A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little late. It's waaay overdue! I hope you like it ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: Tala is adopted into a loving home, starting a new life but he had to his friends behind. It's not quite often blessings come in disguises but in this case, it's more than a blessing; it's a gift.

Chapter 9: Take Me Home

It was moments like this the world stood still.

Standing in front of the structure which was once known as 'home' I gazed into its ghostly windows expecting to see a figure walk pass, shattering the silence within. Everything seemed to change the moment I arrived here; the house seemed lonely, absorbed by the layers of snow. Our nicely trimmed bushes were no longer visible nor the cobblestone steps that lead visitors to the front door. Nobody lived here, not even ghosts. I reached into my pocket pulling out the set of silver keys and inserted them into the brass lock. With a distinctive click, I gently pushed the gate open. Making my way through the foot of snow, I reached the front door. I inhaled one last time before I unlocked the door and entered.

The ambience within the mansion was different; my eyes scanned around the room to the tables, chairs and furniture all covered in layers of plastic. Placing the keys on the side table, I ventured forward to the living room. There, three sets of couches were placed in front of the east wall, in front of a dead fireplace. On the table was old coffee rings made by yours truly. Laughing to myself I did what any good person would do, I pulled out a handkerchief and removed the stains. My actions caught the attention of Irene, who stood by the door watching me intently with her blue eyes. I heard her walk to me.

Without looking at her I said, "I don't know what I'm doing," I admit, I was lost on what to do.

Irene approached closer to me placing a firm hand on my shoulder. I snapped around and was greeted by her smile. "Well, as starters you can tour me around the house. Maybe that way you can remember why you're here."

Nodding, I complied. Maneuvering away from the table, I lead Irene into our kitchen. Ah, the kitchen. The kitchen was more like a warzone, truth be told. I could not recall how many times we broke the stove, fridge, toaster, counter, the other fridge, chairs, tables, pots and pans; you name it. The kitchen suffered the most since at times we warred like crazy drunks… which we were at times. The moment vodka entered the kitchen… the kitchen resulted being destroyed. I laughed to myself; I could not remember how many times we fixed it only to have it destroyed, again.

I pointed to the ceiling, "See that black patch there? That was when Ian tried to make stir fry. He fried the ceiling instead…"

Irene laughed. The thought of Ian trying to cook amused her. I told her the only person responsible for the meals was Spencer. He was the only person who could legitimately cook without accidentally poisoning us. I wouldn't trust Bryan to cook even if it meant starvation. Sure I cooked but every time I did it, I got complaints on how the meat wasn't done right or some other nonsense I chose to ignore.

Next, I pointed to the fridge, "That fridge saw lots through the years," I said walking up to it, pulling the door open. To my surprise there was a box of chocolates inside, untouched. Removing the box I continued, "This door here has been ripped off at least three times by Spencer."

"How'd that happen?" Irene asked, walking to a nearby chair and sat crossed legged.

"I could only assume Bryan pissed of Spencer pretty bad that day. Personally I've never seen Spencer mad let alone, furious." I replied, sitting at the table across from her.

"Oh, I see. So…" Irene moved her eyes to the fridge door. "He tore it out?"

"I guess so," I said popping a piece of chocolate into my mouth. "I know that when I returned home that night, Bryan stayed twenty feet away from Spencer."

We sat in silence for ten minutes. I was too busy absorbed in my surroundings remembering the few good times we shared in the kitchen. I blinked and just like that, I saw my friends sitting around the table eating breakfast. I looked to my left spotting Ian talking to me but I couldn't decipher his words. All I knew was he was laughing about something before he returned to eating his meal.

I remember this…

In front of me was Bryan, drinking his cup of coffee with toast smothered in strawberry jam on the side. I watched the confusion on his face as he tried deciphering the contents of the newspaper.

"The hell is this?" Bryan asked. He pulled the newspaper close to his eye then pulled it away. Turning the newspaper upside down he hoped to decode it. "I don't get it."

"Stocks Bryan," Spencer replied slicing a piece of ham. "Something that you wouldn't understand."

"Oh yeah?" Bryan slammed the newspaper in the middle of the table. Turning to Ian he demanded, "Tell me what stocks are!"

Ian immediately stuffed toast into his mouth avoiding the demands all together. Bryan looked forward, locking his eyes with me.

"Are you going to tell me, Tallie?"

Snapping out of my daze, the mist in front of me disappeared only to be replaced by free floating dust. Shaking my head out of the clouds, I just witnessed hallucinations. Damn.

"Let's go," I said sternly, pushing away from the table.

We left the kitchen, back into the hall leading Irene upstairs. The hallway was vacant, not even a single photograph or painting in sight. I noticed there was a large white, rectangular spot on the wall. Hmmm… It seemed there used to be a frame there. Wracking the back of my brain, for the life of me I couldn't remember what that frame held.

We continued walking down the hallway, heading toward my room. I reached out to the doorknob and turned it slightly. With a light click, the door opened. Never in a thousand years had I imagine I would be in here again, where it all began. I saw myself sitting at the window sill, fingers tracing the frost.

"Master?"

The image of my ghostly self dissipated as Irene walked toward that very same window.

"Is this where it all began?" she questioned with her back turned. "Is there where you chose to live your life with the Murins?"

"Yes,"

Walking to my table, I noticed a white envelope. Seriously, did they all leave me envelopes to read when they had the chance to speak up? I sighed, flipped the paper over and surely enough, it was Bryan's envelope. I contemplated the contents inside it; he probably wrote something along the lines of sorry that he didn't tell me earlier in doubt I would have maimed him. Which I would have, of course. Ripping the envelope open, I read:

Hey Tallie-Puppy!

What's up? Sooooo, by the time you're reading this I'm in the Great White North! Cool, EH? (Canadians use 'Eh' so I thought I'd give it a try!) So yeah, probably by now you saw the chocolates in the fridge. I was gonna bring them here but I forgot… Yeah. Um, what else should I write? Please don't kill me when you see me?

Oh yeah, you never gave me Irene's number!

I'm going to kill that idiot! Crushing the letter and stuffing it in my pocket, I sighed aloud. Maybe coming back here wasn't the best idea after all. Excusing myself, I headed out into the hallway to catch my breath. Slowly, memories returned to me one by one watching mist in the distance manifesting into my friends. Down the hallway I saw Ian walking down with a novel in his hands. I watched him walk right through me and into his room. I followed, opening his door. I was shocked by the state his room was in; it was clean. Heck, the last time I entered this blasted room I tripped, fell and face planted into his stack of novels. Curse those books!

His bed was neatly made, pushed up against the wall with a thick layer of plastic placed over it. Cautiously I entered as if I was avoiding the non-existent stack of novels. It was habit. I made my way to his empty bookshelves until my eyes caught onto a photo album. Strange, I don't recall him having one. On the spine of the album, Ian wrote: Open this at home. I nodded in response, tucking the photo album under my arm. Taking one good look around Ian's room, I bowed and left.

The next room I went to was Spencer's, which was at the end of the hallway. This was actually the first time I entered his room. Taking a deep breath, I entered. I never expected it to be so tidy, well maybe that was an understatement; it was Spencer we're talking about here. Something at the corner caught my attention; I moved to the fishbowl.

"Spencer… what is this?" I asked tapping the bowl. I lowered myself, now eye to eye with the fish. "You forgot… your goldfish?"

How it survived all this time, I had no clue knowing Bryan probably took care of it by over-feeding it. Whatever. Inside the fishbowl was a small ceramic plaque etched in large, black bold letters: SEABORG. Wow. I wasn't sure what else to say or think; did everybody leave behind a piece of themselves for me? I lowered my head at the thought; it was a possibility. Maybe it was a way for me to remember them… keeping them close to my heart.

"What a fool I am,"

Last but not least, Bryan's room. I swore to myself the day we moved into this mansion I was never to tread in the forbidden land. Who knew what Bryan's room held? Holding my breath, I unlocked the door and entered…

My first thoughts coming to mind: "I'm going to slaughter you, Kuznetsov."

How self-absorbed could one moron be? Plastered on his walls were posters of… himself. Feeling my stomach turn, if this was a joke, I'm not laughing! Around his room, I lost count on how many posters of him were there. Sure there were group posters of us but… god, this was creepy! There was his dumb biography as well! I made note of when I do come to Canada, Kuznetsov would be nothing more than a bleeding pulp! I do hope that moron didn't leave anything for—shit, he did! He gave me a headache and a purpose to murder the bloody idiot!

"Ah, there you are," I snapped my head around meeting eye to eye with Irene. Immediately her eyes moved around the room, absorbing the 'Bryan-ness overload'. "Oh dear."

"I'm sorry that you have to witness this atrocity," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Let's go. Staying here gives me the creeps."

Returning home, my parents stared at Irene and I like we each grew two heads. In Irene's arms was Spencer's fishbowl and fish food while I carried Ian's photo album and Bryan's box of chocolates (and yes, I still wanted to murder that moron!).

Inessa approached us with a smile, "I see you two enjoyed yourselves."

I grunted and replied, "Not… as much I hoped to, mom."

Her blue eyes looked at the items we brought home. "So these are things your teammates left behind?" And she giggled, "They're quite odd, don't you think?"

I nodded. Excusing myself, I instructed Irene to follow me to my room. We walked up the stairs in silence, turning right and continued walking down the hall of portraits. Entering my room, I instructed Irene to place down the fishbowl on my table while I threw the rest of the items on my bed. Going back I thought would bring back some good memories but instead, I left with a headache. Brilliant. Emitting a loud sigh, I pinched the area between my eyes in frustration. I'm not sure what else to think…

"Master?" I looked up. "You seem quite distracted,"

How could I not be? I went there to remember the good times we shared. Clearing my throat I said, "I am. How much madness can one person take?"

My eyes locked onto the fishbowl, the photo album and the box of chocolates. All remnants—reminders of them.

"Memories…" I said aloud.

Now that I thought carefully about it, I realized the things they left behind were things they cherished most. Spencer always told me when he got a goldfish he would name it Seaborg. At the time I thought he was joking but coming face to face with the evidence, he wasn't lying. Ian told me he loved photography; every time we went out, Ian brought along his camera taking pictures of people, landscapes, animals—everything! I never understood the fascination but it began to dawn on me. When he took pictures he always walked behind us… In a general sense, I hate taking photos but Ian kept on insisting it, so I agreed. Lastly, there was Bryan. I knew he was a sweet tooth and to leave behind a box of chocolates like that was… uncharacteristic of him. Not in a million years would he forget his beloved chocolates, especially ones with caramel filling.

"Morons…" I lowered my head. God, I hate you all…

"Hey," I met up with Irene's eyes once again. I saw her smile. "Why don't you open the photo album and take a look?"

She sat next to me picking up the album, placing it in my shaking hands. Breathing in, I opened the album. Just like that, my eyes locked onto the first photo; it was picture of all of us laughing.

When did he take this? I thought as my finger traced the edge of the photograph. Wait a minute; this was from the party. Who took—?

I turn my head to Irene who continued to smile. "I took that picture," she said, eyes cast down to the photograph. "To see you happy with your friends—to see you smile…"

Da-thump!

"I know about your past," Irene said. She stood up and stretched walking to the window, looking up toward the silent heavens. "Your friends told me about it. After hearing it through their eyes, I could barely contain the heartache. All those times, you were alone but you always had friends by your side. They were your family."

I was lost for words, unsure of what to say. Instead, I continued listening to Irene.

"At the time you didn't realize it but over the years, you guys had bonds so strong, they were unbreakable. Not even the strongest of us could break it. Those bonds were stronger than steel; nobody could bend it." She paused, bringing her hands together, locking them tight. "Now that they left one by one… they left pieces of themselves for you to remember the good times you shared. You may not remember them but I'm sure they're there."

How could one person read me like a book this well?

"Cracks slowly appeared but you tried your best to conceal them from us—your family and from yourself. You couldn't believe it but… didn't they tell you they'll always be by your side even though they're gone?"

I didn't know what to say; she relayed my thoughts feelings in front of me. All this time I was hiding what I truly felt…

"But right now you have everything a person needs, Master: a home, a family and friends who love and care for you." She turned around, smiling at me. "Am I right?"

"I…"

'Ding-dong!'

The sudden sound of the doorbell interrupted us. I heard my mother's voice calling me to the front door. Running down the carpeted stairs, Inessa turned around smiling at me.

"You have a visitor,"

I tilted my head slightly and cautiously approached the door. It was that moment my blood froze.

"Kai?"