After he'd dried himself off and gotten dressed in the slightly baggy clothes given to him, he made his way downstairs, rubbing a small towel on his head to dry his hair. Hearing voices toward the kitchen, he stopped what he was doing and left the towel on his head like a hood. He stopped at the landing of the stairs and stared down the hallway that lead from the front door to, he assumed, the kitchen.

"-He's covered in scars and there are these big huge ones on his back. Honest to God those look like it could kill a person." He heard Jason's voice mutter. "And he's super jumpy, but I can understand that."

"Tattoo's, scars and jumpy. Anything else?" asked a gruff voice that Lucien hadn't heard before.

"His hair is white with purple highlights I suppose?"

"Hmm, sounds like a punk." Lucien made a face at the accusation. "Probably some city kids were out there getting high on something or other and left their buddy behind."

"Drugs can't give a person amnesia." He heard Jason shoot back at the other man. "Plus he's got some injuries on him, though they are pretty old."

"He could be lying about having amnesia."

"What'll you do with him Sheriff?" Martha asked in a concern tone of voice. "He's such a polite young man, I don't think he's as bad as you make him out to be."

So that's the sheriff? Lucien thought. I can already tell we'll like him. He though sarcastically, looking down at his shadow and the smiling pair of glowing eyes.

"Can't be to safe this day and age. We'll take him to the doctors and give him a physical and drug testing. Then we'll find out if he really has amnesia."

"I think he does. He doesn't know so many things. Didn't know what a grilled cheese was or what a sheriff is. I saw the look in his eyes when he saw his reflection, it was like he was looking at a complete stranger. There is no way a druggie punk would be able to fake that."

Lucien decided now would be the time to make his entrance, pulling the towel a little more over his head and bowing it slightly to hide his face as he entered the kitchen. "Thank you for the shower." He said to Martha.

"Oh dear," she said before walking around the counter to him. "Take that off so your hair can…" she trailed off when she pulled the towel off his head and revealed his face and deathly white hair. "Dry." She muttered taking in the jagged tattoo under his eye and the scorpion on his face and neck.

He looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah…I know. I'm not very pretty." He joked with a small chuckle, plucking the towel from her hand and putting it back on his head. "Think this might go better if I keep this on." He said, spotting a big mass of brown and kacky out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face it and he came face to face with the owner of that gruff voice. The man looked to be in his late fifties, his skin very tanned and cracked with wrinkles like the desert. His hair was thin and gray on top with it being whiter on his side burns. "Hello sir." He said with a small bow of his head.

"Take that damn thing off and come over here so I can look at you." The man ordered, waving him over.

Lucien shot a look at Jason, Martha having gone rather quiet. Jason nodded his head and reached out his hand to take the wet towel. Mentally sighing he took off the towel, handing it to the young man and walking up to the sheriff.

The man looked him up and down, picking up his tattooed arm, then his bandaged and more scarred one. He reached up and grabbed onto his hair, making him hiss in discomfort as the older man pulled on it. "This isn't bleached hair." The man grunted, letting go of the damp hair and patting the boy's shoulder as an apology. Though it was the injured one so that just made him hiss and grab onto it. "Ah, sorry 'bout that."

"It's alright. You didn't know." Lucien said through gritted teeth as he waited for the pain to go away. "What's that about my hair not being bleached?" he asked curiously, wondering why that was such a significant observation.

"If I had a nickel for every time I pulled over a high school kid with bleached hair, I could retire." After a few moments of Lucien just staring at him blankly he coughed. "I've seen bleached hair, this ain't bleached. It's like mine." He chuckled running a hand over his head. "Meaning that it's this color because of high amounts of stress, not chemicals." He reached up and took a piece of hair at the end with the lavender color. "I imagine, that his hair started about this length," he explained, holding up just the purple tip. "And he colored it. Then it grew out and because of the high levels of stress or anxiety, it grew out white." He let go of the hair again. "Can I see your torso? Jason said it was scarred up mighty bad."

Lucien took a step back and shot a glare at Jason, whom looked away pretending to be innocent.

"Come on now. Ain't nothing to be shy about. I just want to see if my theory is right." The sheriff said looking at him in a critical fashion.

He fingered the hem of the shirt before looking over to Martha. "I think you want to leave. It…it's really bad." He muttered, not wanting to send the poor woman into a coma.

Martha frowned and looked at them before sighing and nodding. "Alright, alright. I have to get the laundry anyway." She said throwing her hands into the air and walking out of the kitchen, muttering something about 'men' under her breath.

Once she was gone Lucien let out a breath and took off his shirt, feeling far to exposed for his liking.

"You look like you've gotten around." The sheriff muttered, the expression on his face difficult for Lucien to read. It looked like disgust, but he wasn't sure if it was toward him or not. "Turn around."

Lucien shook his head and took a step back. "I decline." He muttered, balling up the t-shirt tightly.

"Kid either do it now or at the station with cameras." The sheriff almost growled.

"Cameras?" he asked, taking another step back. "What about cameras? What are the cameras for?"

Jason got up and slowly moved over to him, seeing that he was starting to freak out a little. "It's alright Lucien. Sheriff Billy here-"

"Billy?" Lucien asked trying not to grin. "You're name is Billy? I thought he was so intimidating, that just went out the window." He said with a chuckle in his voice.

"It's short for William smart ass." Sheriff Billy grunted, standing up from the chair at the kitchen table. "Now show me your back or I'll tazor you."

Lucien was about to run but Jason kept him in place by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "He's kidding Lucien. He's just kidding." Jason assured him, giving his shoulders a squeeze before slowly guiding him against his chest; both giving him some comfort and allowing the sheriff to see his heavily scarred back. It was nice to know that the man had about the same reaction he did to it, which was shock, horror and disgust.

"I hate you." Lucien muttered against Jason's chest, figuring out what he'd just done. Even if he did like the feeling of his head resting on a warm body and hearing the rather soothing sound of a heart beat it didn't change the fact the young man had tricked him.

"What was that? I can't hear you." Jason hummed, pressing his head against his chest and pretending to suffocate him.

Lucien grew irritated and tried to push away, but when that didn't work he simply stomped on the other males foot, grinning as he pulled away and jumped on one leg to nurse his poor foot. "Don't mess with the guy with the scorpion tattoo." Lucien chuckled, putting his shirt back over his head.

"I'll still snap you in two." Jason challenged, a playful grin on his face as he got into a mock fighting stance. "Come on, bring it girly man."

The sound of a chair scraping against the hard wood floors stopped their lighthearted banter and had them both focusing on the sheriff. "Son, come here." He said, waving Lucien over and putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder when he was in reach. "I don't think you're in a gang, you don't have the right tattoos. In fact yours don't even make sense." He said gesturing to them as Lucien looked down. "But you may have ran with the wrong crowd in order to have the scars you do. Which would support my theory that your hair is so white from stress. Look at me boy." He didn't want to, but after a few moments he made himself look the man in the eyes. "We're going to go down to the station and run your prints to see what comes up."

"If he committed a crime," Jason said with a deep frown on his face. "They can't tri him for something he doesn't remember doing…Can they? I mean, what if he's a completely different person now?"

William held up his hand and Jason stopped talking to listen to him. "Or maybe he was heavily abused. We won't know until we get to the station to try and ID him."

Lucien had been somewhat fidgeting the entire explanation. He knew that they would find no record of him, but he didn't know what that would mean for him. What would they do to him? Would they lock him up? Send him away? What? It was all making him very nervous and he could feel paranoia start to creep up again.

All eyes snapped up when a pot from an over hanging rack suddenly fell off it's hook, ending the silence with a loud clang of metal. Shit I need to calm down. He thought, running a hand over his face as Jason went to retrieve the pan.

"Hmph, that was odd." The sheriff grunted, shaking his head. "Come on kid, let's get you down to the station and the doctors."

"Lucien."

"Pardon?"

He swallowed slightly before saying it again. "I'm calling myself Lucien until we can find out who I am."

"Don't like me calling you kid huh?" the man said with a chuckle as the boy shook his head. "Fine, doesn't change the fact that we have to go."

"…If I did a crime what would happen to me?" Lucien asked as he followed the sheriff through the house, looking back at the kitchen. Jason was standing there watching him leave with a sorrowful expression that was quickly replaced with a small reassuring smile and a wave of his hand. He blinked but waved back as well out of courtesy.

"If you committed a crime," the sheriff explained, making Lucien pay attention to him. "You would be sent to trial for it and if your found guilty you go to prison." The sheriff stopped when they reached the porch outside and turned back around to look at him. "Poor kid like you wouldn't last a day."

He stood up straight, anxiety seeping into his stomach as he reluctantly continued to follow the man to his car after pulling on his dirty shoes. "Wh-what does that mean?" he asked nervously, hating that his voice was so shakily lately.

The sheriff stopped when they were at his cruiser, rubbing his eyes clearly not wanting to explain it. "They'd throw you around, beat you up and maybe even…Well you know."

"Clearly I don't!" he almost shouted, now borderline freaking out.

"You don't calm down now I won't tell you." The man warned firmly.

Lucien glared at him for a moment before shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. He did this a few times until he felt that he was calm and he opened his eyes again. "I'm calm."

"Good. Because they'd rape you."

It felt like his stomach drop into his shoes. "R-rape? As in they'd put their?"

"Yep."

"In my?"

"Yep."

"Oh…Is that all?" he asked with a nervous smile before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He was awoken with by a firm shake of his shoulders and his instincts kicked in. He jerked and lashed out, his target moving out of the way and he quickly found himself on the cold hard floor. "Ugh."

"How'd that feel?" the gruff voice of the sheriff asked him, sounding a little amused.

"Wonderful. Want to try it?" he asked with a groan, rolling onto his back and blinking his eyes against the bright florescent lighting beating into his eyes. "Where am I?" he asked, holding up his hand to block the light; his eyebrows shooting up seeing some kind of black substance on his fingers. "What is on my fingers?"

"Same thing that's on your face. Apparently you touch your face a lot in your sleep. It's ink. We took your prints while you were asleep." The man said, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and using that to pull him back onto his feet. "Ha! You're so light I can carry you around like this." He said with a laugh, tugging on his shirt.

"Am I allowed to hit police?" He asked, letting his face show just how annoyed he was with his lips set in a scowl and his eyebrow twitching.

"Nope, assault of a police officer is a felony." The sheriff huffed, still chuckling.

"Damn." Lucien grunted, looking away to study his surroundings. There was a large window above the bench he had apparently been sleeping on and he could see the entire building. It seemed like it was mostly open office space and people similarly clad like the sheriff bustling about. "How long was I asleep?"

"'Bout an hour." The man answered, rubbing his chin as he studied Lucien's reaction to all of the police. "We need to document all of your scars and injuries though."

Lucien looked back at him over his shoulder with a frown, not liking the sound of that. "Why?"

"It's what we do with victims of abuse." He answered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Until we find out who you are, on the records you'll officially be referred to as a John Doe. But of course off the records people can call you Lucien." He explained walking him out of his office and through the station.

"What do you mean John Doe?" he asked with his frown deepening, never having heard that term before.

William sighed slightly. "John Doe is what we call unidentified males, Jane Doe is for females…Usually it's a term used for the dead."

"So it's as if I'm dead?" he asked. "That's…Saddening."

The older man simply nodded. "It is rather sad, but that's just how life is sometimes." He said opening the door to a small concrete room, a camera on a tripod sitting close to the wall. "Would you be more comfortable if a man or woman did this?" he asked as Lucien stepped into the room.

"I'd be more comfortable if we didn't do this." He answered running a hand through his bright white locks, blinking at how soft if felt. "But…I suppose a man." He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

The documentation of his scaring was even more agitating than he had thought. The room was freezing and the officer that was in charge of taking a picture of every scar and tattoo had even colder hands. He wasn't talkative, very business like and with the exception of giving him directions of how to stand he hardly said a word.

Normally Lucien liked that, but in this case it was extremely awkward for him. Especially when the man's hand had lingered a little to long on the scars on his back.

Then it was off to the doctors for a physical exam which included pissing in a cup, something that he found mildly embarrassing. He was measured and weighed, as well as strictly told to eat more to put on much needed weight. To which he readily agreed too.

But then came time for something called a prostate exam.

"So what's going to happen exactly?" Lucien asked, tugging at the flimsy paper gown he had to wear, jumping when the doctor snapped a glove onto his hand. "Can I decline this?"

"Don't worry. Everyone reacts the same to this. It isn't a lot of fun, but it has to be done." The doctor told him.

Lucien grumbled something under his breath before asking, "What did Billy say to you before I came in here?" he had saw the sheriff whisper something to the man, but he had no idea what and it was making him paranoid.

"I don't think you want to know." The man said. "Get up and turn around, feet apart and elbows on the examination table."

He blew at a bang hanging in his face before doing as told. This feels so weird. He thought, pressing his forehead on the table. "Oh shit!" he shouted, his head jerking up feeling the cold penetration of the finger.

"Did that hurt?"

"No but it surprised the hell out of me!" He yelled, glaring at the wall ahead of him and trying to keep himself calm. "Nmh!" he bit his lip when the finger moved around and pressed against his prostate. He pressed his face back into the material of the examination table, shutting his eyes and repressing the pleasant shiver that went up his spine.

"And done." The doctor announced, standing up and raising an eyebrow when Lucien sunk to his knees on the ground. "You alright there?"

"Fine." He grunted, running a hand over his head as he pulled himself back onto his feet and flopped on the table. "Give me a bit here. Didn't particularly like that."

The man chuckled, removing the glove from his hand. "Most men don't." he took a moment to wash his hands before going to the door. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here feeling violated!" Lucien yelled after him before the door shut and he pressed his head on the table again. "Fuck is wrong with me?" he asked looking down at his shadow as Sunny rose up from it. He shrugged at the question before sitting down and starting to scratch behind his ear with one of his hind legs. "You're no help."

Billy pushed himself away from the wall. "Well?" he asked the doctor as he approached.

"There was some scarring that indicate sexual abuse, but it is much older than any of the scars on the rest of his body." The man answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you thinking?"

"Might be human trafficking." He muttered, rubbing his neck. "We can't find him in the system, not even for a missing persons report."

"What'll you do with him?"

"Well, the Lewis's found him. Andrew is always wanting to help out, maybe he'd be willing to take the kid in until we can call the feds or his memory comes back."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Hi gofer person!" Was the first greeting he got when he walked through the door that night and Lucien blinked seeing a tiny, but happy and healthy child run up to him. He almost grinned when his mouth dropped open. "Whoa! Cooool! Lookit his face paints mommy!" He exclaimed, looking behind him as his mother walked into the entryway.

Lucien looked behind him when Andrew shut the front door and set down a small duffle bag next to him. "This is Trevor?" he asked pointing to the four year old as his mother picked him up.

"Yep, that's Trevor." Andrew said with a chuckle.

"Hi Trevor." Lucien said to the child with a smile. "My name is Lucien."

"Lotion?" Martha stifled back a giggle at her son's innocent attempt to say his name.

Lucien's eye twitched but he shook it off and patted the boy's head. "Nice try kiddo. I'm going to be staying for awhile, is that alright with you?"

"Yeah!" Trevor shouted with a grin. "Can you do face paints like that for me?"

"Uh, no my face paints are special and only for really big kids." He said after a small pause with a sheepish smile.

Andrew patted his shoulder and Lucien winced since it was the injured one. "Nice save there." He muttered with a small chuckle.

Lucien rubbed his poor shoulder with a small groan. "Does everyone around here like touching shoulders?"

"Oh I'm sorry was that the one that's hurt?" Andrew asked, giving him an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it. If it happens enough times I'm pretty sure it'll just numb itself." He said with a small laugh.

"Jessica!" Martha shouted up the stairs. "Come down stairs and meet our guest!"

"That's your daughter right?" Lucien asked Andrew raising an eyebrow as the man let out a breath and nodded. "You seem exasperated."

"You'll see why."

Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs he looked up and raised an eyebrow watching a fourteen-year-old girl stomp down the stairs and glare at him. "Were you the one that used my stuff?"

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"Jessica!" Her mother chastised with a firm look on her face. "Don't talk to people like that."

"But mom he used like half of my shampoo and conditioner!"

"…I used girls shampoo?" he muttered to himself, grabbing a lock of his hair and sniffing it. "No wonder it smelt so nice." He let it go and walked forward, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well I'm sorry for that. I'll try not to do it again."

She looked him up and down and made a face. "You're so weird."

"Ouch, my self-esteem." He said sarcastically, grabbing onto his chest before hissing. "Okay that was stupid of me." He grunted, forgetting that he was injured there.

Jessica opened her mouth to say something but shut it at the look her parents shot her.

"Apologize Jessica." Martha said firmly.

"But mom-"

"He said he was sorry for using your shampoo, now apologize for talking to him like that." Andrew interjected.

Lucien looked down when Trevor jumped on his shadow. "Careful, a little imp lives in there." He said with a smile. "His name is Sunny and he loves to tickle." He moved his hands toward him, but the boy giggled loudly and ran behind his father.

"See! He's weird! He's probably some psycho that'll kill us in our sleep!"

"Jessica!" both her parents yelled as Lucien stood up straight with a sigh.

Oh I can tell this'll be fun. He thought turning to look at the young teen. "I'm sorry that that is what you believe. My only intent is to pay back the generosity your mother and father have so graciously given me." He held up his heavily scarred arm for her to see more clearly. "It's not something I would take for granted." He walked over to the door and picked up the duffle bag full of hand-me-down clothes. "Come on Trevor I'll show you a magic trick." He said walking up the stairs, getting a cheer from the preschooler, pausing to ask Martha and Andrew, "If that's alright with you two."

"It's fine, we need to talk anyway." Andrew said, watching his son clamber up the stairs after their guest.

The guest room was easy to locate and Trevor wasted no time jumping onto the bed and asking to see the magic trick. Lucien chuckled and set his duffle bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. "Alright, alright, sit down first." He said and the hyper child instantly did so. "Okay, see my bag there?" he asked, pointing to the duffle bag as he moved to the other side of the room where the dresser was. Trevor nodded and Lucien held up his hand, more for show than actually needing to. The bag shook a little before it slowly began to slide across the floor, Trevor watching with his mouth wide open before it turned into a face splitting grin.

"Cool!"

Lucien chuckled and knelt down to open the duffle bag, pausing when he heard yelling from downstairs. He pushed his hand out and the door slowly shut until it was just ajar. "So your sister seems nice." He said, starting to put the clothes into drawers. He wanted to try and understand how this family worked, it obviously wasn't all smiles and rainbows all the time.

"She's mean." Trevor muttered, crawling up to the head of the bed and burying himself into the pillows. "And mommy and daddy fight with her a lot."

"Bet that's no fun huh?" he asked with a frown, shutting the last drawer and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Uh-uh." Came the muffled reply from the pillows. After a few moments he poked his head back out and made a thoughtful face. "Is what she said true?"

"That I'm a bad person?" Lucien asked, smiling slightly. "No, it isn't true. It's far from the truth in fact. I'm a very nice person."

"Really?" he asked, pressing his cheek against the pillow and staring up at him with such a bright and innocent gaze, something he hadn't seen in a child in a long time, that he couldn't help himself from softening his features and reaching out to ruffle the mop of brown hair on his head.

"Yes really."

He grinned and sat up, moving over to the bed and flopping on his lap to look down at the ground at his shadow. "Is Sunny nice?"

Lucien rolled him off, making him giggle even though it was his attempt to get some personal space. "Sunny is a bit like a cat. He's small and he purrs and he likes to cuddle. But he's a little scary looking."

"Even though he's nice?" Trevor asked in disbelief.

Lucien nodded. "Even though he's nice. Sometimes nice people look a little scary."

"Can I play with him?" he pleaded, giving Lucien big puppy dog eyes.

Lucien stepped on his shadow to keep Sunny from coming out. "I don't think so buddy. See he's sleeping right now."

"Ooooh." He said, making a face that made Lucien laugh.

He ran a hand through his white hair and looked back toward the door when he heard the arguing stop. "Come on, think it's safe to go back downstairs." Trevor held up his arms and Lucien frowned slightly. "You want me to carry you? I don't think-"

"Pleeeaaase?" Trevor pleaded, throwing him the puppy dog eyes again.

The User sighed before picking him up under his armpits and carrying him a little awkwardly to the door. "Careful, I have some owies." He said, grimacing as the added weight started to pull on his injuries.

"Otay." The boy mumbled around his fingers as he chewed on them.

Lucien pulled his hand out of his mouth while walking out of the guest room and toward the stairs. When he reached the hallway he set Trevor down and watched him run off to the kitchen. "Mommy, daddy Lotion did a really cool magic trick!"

He couldn't help but laugh hearing Trevor called him 'lotion' and pressed his head against the wall, shaking it slightly. He pushed away from the wall and made his way to the kitchen, stopping when Jessica walked in front of him, looking down at her feet instead of at him. "I'm sorry for saying what I said." She muttered, still not looking at him.

That's clearly sincere. He thought giving the girl a blank look. She looked up at him finally and scowled at the blank expression on his face.

"I said I was sorry."

"I know." He said in a monotone voice, walking around her and into the kitchen. "I unpacked all of my clothes. Thank you both again so much for taking me in." he stated with a small bow of his head.

"It's no trouble." Martha said with a smile, turning to the oven when it beeped. "That's dinner."

"Dinner?" Lucien asked, tilting his head slightly.

"You have to know what dinner is." Andrew said, shutting the fridge with a bottle of beer in his hand.

"I do." He chuckled, his eyes almost widening when Martha pulled a tray full of hot food from the oven. His stomach let out a very loud growl and he put a hand over it to try and silent it. "That smells really good. What is it?" he asked, leaning over to the counter slightly to get a better look at the food sitting in the glass tray.

"It's lasagna." The woman explained with a smile. "This is for the family." She said pointing to the tray, making Lucien blink owlishly as she pulled out another smaller tray from the oven. "This is for you. It's got everything you need to put on some weight."

"Lucky!" Trevor shouted, pouting up at Lucien.

He grinned down at the four-year-old. "Sorry, want me to do the magic trick again?"

"YEAH!" He shouted loudly, jumping up and down. "Mommy! Daddy! Watch this! Watch this!" he yelled pointing at Lucien.

"Must be some magic trick." Andrew chuckled after taking a drink of his beer. "So you do remember some things?"

"I think that if it's something I did a lot, subconsciously I still know it." He explained, tapping his temple. "Like I know this song for instance, either I heard it a lot or I sang it a lot to the point that it's just in there."

"Oh I heard on the news that there was this girl and she was in a coma, but even while she was in the coma she could still shoot a ball into a hoop because she was a basketball player. Her body was so used to the motions to the point that it was like instinct for her." Martha said, setting a basket of rolls on the counter next to the trays of lasagna. "The human mind is a very strange and wonderful thing."

Trevor jumped onto his leg and Lucien stumbled a little. "Do the trick!" he yelled, giggling as Lucien tried to walk with him on his leg.

"I think this is yours." He grunted, holding out his leg to Andrew, who pried the laughing Trevor off Lucien's pant leg. "Okay Trevor what should I do the trick with?"

"Um," he looked around and pointed to the basket of rolls. "That! I want a roll!"

"Alright I'm going to have to ask all of you to shut your eyes." Lucien said, walking over to the basket. He made sure they had shut their eyes and made it sound like he was moving around before telling them they could open their eyes. "Okay now watch the top roll." He said, pointing to the top one before holding his hand over it. Again just for show, the roll wobbled before it flew up into his hand. "Ta-da."

Martha laughed and clapped her hands, soon being joined by her husband. "That's certainly impressive. How'd you do that?"

"Now that is a trademark secret." He grinned, walking over and handing the roll to Trevor.

"Jessica!" Martha yelled, walking toward the stairs. "Time for dinner!"

"I'm not hungry!" she shouted back before a door was slammed.

Lucien frowned slightly and turned to the man of the house who was doing a cross between a scowl and a frown. "I'm sorry, seems I've disrupted your family balance." He apologized, staggering a little when Trevor jumped onto his leg again.

"It has nothing to do with you." Andrew sighed loudly, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. "She's just at that age. I'm hoping it's a phase."

"Well I still apologize."

Martha walked into the kitchen with a shake of her head, pulling her black hair from its ponytail in frustration. "I don't know what I'm going to do about that girl. But that is neither here nor there. It's time to eat."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Trevor mimicked the sounds of a racecar as he moved a toy monster truck up Lucien's back who was far to full to care that his personal space was being invaded. He was laying on the couch in the 'living room' as he'd heard Andrew call it and pretty much felt like he was going to fall asleep from the warm food that was sitting comfortably in his stomach and the couch was easily the most comfortable thing he'd ever laid on. He could hear the television on and he knew that Andrew was sitting in his own chair watching it, but he couldn't bring himself to pay much mind to what it was about.

Trevor moved his truck up to Lucien's head and frowned when it stopped moving. He tried to move it forward and his eyes went wide seeing it was stuck in his hair. "Uh-oh." He muttered looking around before running out of the room.

Lucien lifted his head to see what had scared off the boy, but figured it out when he felt a weight pulling down on his head. He pressed his head against the couch and forced himself to sit up, grabbing onto the truck and pulling it out slowly with a small grimace. "With that it's time for me to go to bed." He grumbled, setting the toy on the ground.

"Sorry 'bout that. I should have told him not to do that." Andrew apologized but Lucien waved it off.

"Don't be. I think by the way he ran out of here he knew he did something wrong." He said pointing in the direction the child had ran. "Good night and thank you again so much."

"You're welcome already, now stop saying thank you." Andrew huffed with a chuckle, making Lucien grin before he turned around and left to go upstairs. He passed an open room and saw Jessica sitting on her bed reading some flimsy piece of shiny paper. He paused looking into the room, and making a face at the bright hot pink walls that assaulted his eyes.

"What do you want?" the girl on the bed bit out, glaring at him.

"I was just on my way to my room…This is a bright color." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's that?" he asked pointing to what was in her hands.

"Uh, it's called a magazine. Idiot." She muttered the last part under her breath, flipping the page sharply.

His eyebrow twitched but nonetheless he didn't rise to the bait. "Right well goodnight." He said with a wave of his hand and walking the short distance to his room.

He gently shut the door but five seconds later it opened again and he raised an eyebrow at the pissed off brown haired girl standing behind it. "What?" he asked, wondering what he did this time to tick her off.

"Let's get something straight."

"Oh boy threats." He muttered rolling his eyes and walking to the dresser to get out designated nightclothes, something he found oddly amusing considering he usually just wore the same thing all the time.

He turned around hearing the door shut and just blinked at the angry teen.

"You stay out of my room," she began, pointing a finger at him and walking toward him. "You don't touch my stuff and when my friends come over you stay in here."

Lucien snorted before laughing. "Well aren't you cute." He said with a grin, waving her off. "Get out of here, I need to change."

"I'm serious! You better do what I say!" she said in a harsh whisper.

"Or what?" Lucien asked, looking at her amused.

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a smug look. "Or I tell mom and dad you did bad things to me. They'll believe me and you'll go to jail."

All the humor was gone from his face in an instant, but he wasn't nervous or afraid or even angry. He was simply uncaring. "You would lie to your parents and send me to prison when I've done nothing to you? Do you have any idea what they would do to me in prison?" he asked taking a step forward and making her take a step back, though she tried to remain confident. "You would really make an innocent person suffer like that? Just so you can have a false sense of superiority and control over a stranger that simply needed help?" he shook his head. "What a pathetic little thing you are."

"You can't talk to me like that." She growled, glaring at him harder.

"Don't like hearing the truth?" he asked, pulling a shirt out of the dresser. "Well that's to damn bad. See I'm an honest person and when I see something wrong, I don't bull shit it. You're an ungrateful spoiled little brat and you think that you are entitled to everything your parents have worked hard to give you so you can have a good life. You take them and their love for you for granted and I won't sit back and watch that when they've been so kind to me." He almost snarled. "You should be counting your blessings and thanking whatever God or Gods you pray to. Because if you were out in the real world, in reality, you wouldn't last a single fucking day." He said taking his shirt off and throwing it to the side. "This is reality." He stated lowly, pointing to his scar-ridden chest. "So I'm sorry that I need help. I'm sorry that I don't remember where I'm from or if I have a family somewhere out there worrying about me which is probably very slim. I'm sorry that I'm lucky to even be alive right now because obviously it's such a big inconvenience to you." He stopped talking seeing tears welling up in her eyes and her mouth pressed tightly as she tried to fight them back. "Fuck." He grunted, pressing a hand to his face. He quickly put on the fresh shirt and spoke again, "Look I didn't mean to make you cry, I lost my patience. Doesn't make what I said any less true just…just don't cry."

She sniffed and nodded, rubbing her eye with her hand. "I-I'm sorry." She murmured, her words catching in her throat.

"It's alright, just take deep breaths and calm down okay?" he said making a motion with his hands and taking a deep breath, Jessica doing the same thing shakily. They repeated that a few more times until she was calmed down to where there were no more tears in her blue eyes. "You alright?" he asked and received a small nod in return. "Good." He breathed in relief and sat down heavily on his bed. "I'm never having kids. To emotionally exhausting."

Jessica sniffed and laughed slightly. She stayed in her spot for a few moments before going over to the door and opening it to leave, pausing for a second. "Um, can I ask you something?" she asked, turning around in the door way and looking down at the ground.

He sat himself up and raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

"Do…do they hurt?" she asked in such a soft voice that he had to strain to hear her.

"My scars?" he asked, pressing a hand to his chest. "Well…Sometimes they do, but its more like an annoying little pain than anything that really hurts. That's usually when I pull on them because scar tissue isn't flexible compared to normal skin. But it makes me look tougher I think." She smiled slightly and he grinned a little. "Tattoo's won't send people running then the scars will. It's like saying, 'look at what I survived'."

"If you say so." She muttered. "But I think I'd remember getting hurt like that."

He shrugged. "The mind is a complicated thing. It'll protect itself from trauma the best way it can. Sometimes that includes making itself forget almost everything it knows."

"I just learned about something like that in my health class." She said, snapping her fingers as she remembered it. "Yeah my teacher did a whole thing about it."

"Lecture?"

"Yeah that!"

Lucien laughed and shook his head slightly. "You're a nice girl when you aren't threatening to send me to jail."

She blushed and shifted from one foot to the other. "I'm really sorry about that. My problems don't seem so bad compared to yours."

"I wouldn't say that." He said, crossing his legs on the bed. "Just because I have some pretty bad problems, that doesn't make yours any less important." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to talk about them?"

"Aren't you going to bed?" she asked with a blink of her eyes. "And wouldn't it be, like, weird to tell a stranger my problems?"

He shrugged again. "Sometimes that's the best thing a person can do if they feel like they can't talk to their parents about it and I'm not that tired. If I start drifting off you can just pinch me really hard."

"Tempting, but I should get to bed too. Goodnight." She said with a small wave of her hand, him doing the same before she shut the door behind her.

Lucien looked down at his lap when Sunny jumped into it. "Think I got through to her?" he asked the imp, while petting his head. Sunny just purred and curled up on his lap. "Again, you are no help." He chuckled.