Author's note: Mild language, Character death

Ages: Ronan - 13, Sedge - ?

Ronan sat on a bench outside the hospital's seldom-used side entrance, staring ahead at the fountain in the center of the courtyard. The fountain was turned off, the basin drained. Ronan felt a little like that basin; empty. He'd been outside for the last...he wasn't sure. When his mother had closed her eyes for the last time, and he'd felt her leave him...he'd simply gotten up from the chair he'd spent most of the last week curled in and left. He'd intended to go home, maybe; he wasn't really sure. He just knew he couldn't bear to sit in that room anymore when she wasn't in it.

"Problems?"

The voice startled him out of his thoughts and his attention shifted to the man standing a few feet from him. Tall, black hair like his, eyes a deep purple...and a smirk that Ronan didn't like at all. He shifted uncomfortably, staying silent.

"Don't feel like sharing? Fine with me."

He took a seat next to him, and Ronan scooted away so fast he fell right off the bench onto the concrete. The man laughed, extending a hand. Ronan eyed it like it was poison, scrambling to his feet and trying to ignore the amusement on the other's face.

"It's been a while. I almost expected you to be shorter."

"Wha- who're you?"

"You don't remember your own father? I think I'm hurt Ronan, honestly. Doesn't family mean anything to you?"

Father? But-

No, he remembered him, a little bit. Enough that something clicked, and he took a step back.

"You left us."

There was nothing accusatory about it; just a simple statement, although there was relief in it. He knew that his father leaving had been a good thing. His mother had rarely spoken about him, but when she did, it had always held a hint of fear. Ronan had never been exactly sure why, and he hadn't wanted to hurt her further by asking.

"I had better things to do."

His mouth almost dropped open at the casualness of the comment. His father was still smiling at him, which wasn't helping anything.

"I- I have to go home."

He started backing away, suddenly feeling something wrong in the air. It was a chill colder than anything he'd felt before, even in the middle of winter.

"True, there's nothing left for you here now, is there? Shame. But I wouldn't bother running, there's nowhere to go."

Ronan froze as two monsters (he didn't know what else to call them) took shape from the shadows of the bench his father was sitting on. They were completely black, with large yellow eyes, antennae...and claws. Those eyes fixed on him, and he nearly stopped breathing. What the hell-

"So!" His father stood, clapped his hands together, and smirked. "Time to go home, son."

"...I'm- I'm not-"

Going anywhere with you, ever.

Ronan turned and bolted, only making it halfway down the walk before there was a rush of cold and one of those things landed on his back, knocking him to the ground. Before he could throw it off, the weight disappeared and he was hauled up by the back of his jacket collar, then shaken.

"Didn't I tell you not to bother? We're going to have to work on your listening skills, apparently."

"Let me go!"

The air in front of him warped and changed, becoming a freezing, swirling mass of black and purple. He tried to recoil from it, but it was difficult with the grip his father still had on him.

"Don't be so afraid of it. It can be your friend, you know."

"Like hell!"

"You have so much potential, Ronan. Time to take advantage of it."

With that, his father shoved him into the portal.