"Goodbye, your pocket full of dreams..."

–Runaway Train, Avantasia

It was mere minutes until sunrise. Grass shimmered, carried by a quiet breeze, where Jean-Luc sat in a garden chair and listened to the crickets. He and Gaelstrom both had sat out there together for the past hour, just talking. Gaelstrom was beginning to admit: lavender tea wasn't so bad. He was already on his second cup. From the woodline, he could hear the soft wind carry through the trees and an owl hooting somewhere far off in the darkness. His body grew tired from the effects of the tea, but his mind refused sleep's advances. The events of that night saw to that.

"I can't believe it." Gaelstrom said, lowering the cup from his lips. "All this time, my dad knew everything. My mum, too. I..."

Jean-Luc looked sympathetically at him. "Try not to comprehend it all at once," he said, "take your time. It's a lot to process."

Gaelstrom turned in his seat. "Mr. Polnareff, you can't leave today." Those words seemed to cut Jean-Luc with the way his eyes sadly shifted in his direction. "You don't have to do this. Let me help you."

Jean-Luc chuffed. "Gaelstrom..."

"Please! I don't want Jean to lose you. He needs you. Sherry needs you. Please. I just want him to be happy."

The expanse above them brightened. Soon, the sun would be peeking over the horizon and the inevitable departure would tear Polnareff and Sherry apart. Gaelstrom's eyes looked at him in desperation. There wasn't much time left. He had to convince him to stay. Gaelstrom's only friends he ever had couldn't have their hearts broken like this. He was clinging tightly to hope, but that hope was like water in the palm of his hands, dripping through the gaps between his fingers.

"I don't want him to be angry at you anymore." Gaelstrom continued. "We can talk to him! We can tell him everything. My dad can help you. Jean and I can help you, too! I know I'm just a kid, but there has to be another way. There just has to be!"

Jean-Luc shook his head as he said those words, defeating him. Just what was it going to take to convince him? Gaelstrom frowned. Hope steadily dripped from his hands, the pool on his palms diminishing. His eyes never broke away from him. He wasn't taking no for an answer. Jean-Luc smiled, looking up at the stars that were beginning to fade in the morning sky. The last time he'd see a sunrise in France ever again.

"Gaelstrom, let me tell you something my father told me once. With love comes sacrifice. I stand with you on what you say. My children do need me, just as much as I need them. But consider this: if I stay here while Mordred is out there, and I don't find a way to destroy Stigmata, then it's as if I never cared for my children at all. And I am not that man. Jean and Sherry are both very precious to me. They are a ray of light in my dark, dark world. What I want in life, more than anything, is to remain here -"

"Then stay!" Gaelstrom cried. "You can still find a way to destroy Stigmata."

Jean-Luc's eyes averted from the sky to the grass around his feet. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. What's to stop Mordred from killing Jean or Sherry if he discovers Stigmata's location? If I nip this in the bud early on, they won't face a gruesome death. He can carry on in my place when the time comes and not have to worry about Ouroboros's influence as Merlin and I have. As our ancestors have. That is a burden I refuse to leave behind."

Tears formed in Gaelstrom's eyes. "But what if you die?"

"My boy, I don't fear death."

He's not afraid to die? Even a little bit?

"I dreamed of a day when I would end this curse." Jean-Luc said. "Foolishly, I'll admit. A day where I would finally have my happy ending. Jean would set his hate for me aside and I could share Merlin's teachings with him. A day where he would stand before me and tell me: I love you, dad. And I could get to meet my grandchildren, relishing every second of being in their presence. Stigmata and Mordred would be gone and our family could finally prosper and live a ful-filling and happy life. Until recently, I believed all of this was possible. Only now do I realize that of all these things I covet, none of them are meant to be. Yet, I am happy."

"Why?" Gaelstrom asked.

Jean-Luc smiled, wiping a tear from his eye as sunlight broke over the countryside. "Because having a family of my own to love and protect is more than enough. Knowing that the path I took in life originally had no room for loved ones, as I was devoted to destroying Stigmata and putting an end to my plight with Ouroboros. But even so, found love anyway. The ordinary life I long dreamed of came in the form of my late wife and our two children. Despite my unattainable dreams, what I had here was more perfect than anything I could have ever hoped for."

Something sank within Gaelstrom's chest. He didn't fully understand a situation like his, but respected where Jean-Luc was coming from nonetheless. He couldn't imagine having a family and never getting the chance to be with them, let alone leave them behind. He thought about his own father and what it would be like if he were in Jean-Luc's shoes. Then he thought about what if he was in his place and how it would make him feel.

"Gaelstrom, Jean and Sherry are very fortunate to have you as their friend."

"What makes you say that?"

"You always think of them before yourself. That's an admirable quality to have. Growing up, I did the same thing for my sister. I protected her; loved her, nurtured her. She was very dear to me. But...oddly, she always had daggers for me. For years, she would make me feel as if I was doing something wrong, so I tried my best to find the problem and fix it. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes she was quite pleasant to be around. But as time went by, those moments came less and less. I know I should let go, but still I find myself holding onto a hope for my sister. What kind of older brother would I be if I didn't truly wish to see her happy? Even so, my children come first. Always. No matter how much I love Adelaide - no matter how much I want to help her - I love my children more. Remember what I've told you, Gaelstrom. With love comes sacrifice. For what it is worth, there is no one I can think of more perfect than you - who loves Jean and Sherry the way you do - that is willing to protect them."

Gaelstrom sniffed, wiping his tears away. "I promise you, Mr. Polnareff, I'll do my absolute best to take care of them. I'll be there every step of the way from right now to my dying breath."

The glow of the morning sun warmed their faces. Gaelstrom wished Jean-Luc didn't have to come to a decision like leaving for good. Then he remembered how heartbroken Polnareff and Sherry were going to be. God, how nice it would have been to have the power to prevent all of that with the snap of his fingers. With that same power, he could influence Jean-Luc to reconsider. Sadly, though, he knew the world didn't work that way. He reminded himself of what Jean-Luc said about love - how good-hearted people sacrifice the things they want the most for the ones they care most about. He'd always remember this lesson in honor of him.

Jean-Luc's sacrifice for his son would never be forgotten.

🔸 ️🔸

Sherry's eyes fluttered open. Stretching her arms into the air, she yawned. Her hands came down, one of them bumping something beside her.

"Huh?" She gasped as soon as she realized who it was.

Messy, silver hair looped and frizzed around Polnareff's head. Strands hung over his face as he snored like a bear in winter. He groaned, speaking in his sleep like he always did.

"...the dog farted on me..."

Sherry giggled and poked his cheek. "Did you fall asleep in my room again?"

"Unnnh, stop..." He aimlessly waved her hand away and threw her pillow over his face.

"Big brother, the sun's out. Time to get up. Aren't you hungry?"

Without lifting the pillow away from his face, he simply returned a muffled no. To which, she huffed and grabbed a pillow nearby, swinging it full force against his face. "Wake up, wake up," she said in a sing-songy voice, "time to open up your eyes."

Polnareff growled, pulling the pillow tighter against his head as he rolled over on his stomach. He thought he could ignore the pillow swinging down on top of him the first few times, but the more she kept singing and beating him with it, the quicker his patience wore thin.

"Knock it off, Sherry. I'm tired. Stop it."

"Aww, fine."

She dropped the pillow off the side of the bed and sank to the mattress on her knees. Her lips flattened and brows knit. Why'd he always have to be so difficult to wake up? Gaelstrom was the same way. Maybe he was already up, though? Hey, come to think of it, they could make breakfast together! Her eyes wandered to the ceiling as her index finger poked her chin. She hummed in thought. Climbing off the bed, she dashed out of the room and down the hall in her nightgown.

Her feet thumped against the carpet as she raced towards the bannister. This was going to be a great day, she thought. An amazing, fun-filled day. She and Gaelstrom would make breakfast and then they'd both go wake up Polnareff. She could hardly wait. Giggling, she ran into the bannister, holding her hands out to stop herself from running into it. All of that happiness flooded the upper hall until she heard the sound of her aunt's voice in the foyer below.

Sherry leaned over, getting a better look. Jean-Luc was standing in the doorway looking outside as he leaned against the door paneling. Adel's voice really carried, echoing throughout the foyer. Why was her voice so harsh?

What's going on?

"I can't believe you," Adel harped, "is it really so hard for you to accept things and be a good father to your kids?"

Jean-Luc's palm graced his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose as she prattled on.

"Now who's the one with visions of grandeur? It's shitty of you to lure me out here to visit you when you mentioned nothing about being the surrogate to these...! Well, congratulations. You followed in mother and father's footsteps and abandoned your own family. How does it feel, brother, huh? Knowing you're no better than them."

"Adel..." Jean-Luc said, "...is this really the final farewell you wish to give me? After all I've sacrificed for you?"

"I couldn't care less what you sacrificed!" she cried. "I never asked you to do any of that."

Jean-Luc clenched his fist and inhaled into his nose. Releasing the tension in his fist, he let out his breath and turned to face Adel. He approached her, cupping her face with both hands. Adel looked into his sad, weary eyes; her angry expression transformed into bewilderment.

"I know you're still in there." he said softly as he leaned his forehead against hers. Whether you believe it or not, I love you. Be well. Be better."

With that, he parted ways and stepped through the doorway. Sherry's confusion only riled up her emotions. Why were they fighting? It didn't have to be that way. They could just talk about their problems and things would be just fine. They could work through this. She knew they could. Seeing her father walk out the door, she couldn't ignore a painful feeling in her chest. Where was he going?

In that moment, Adel forced back a sob and dealt with her frustration the only way she knew how. "So that's it then?! Be better? That's your farewell to me?! What about your kids? What will you tell them, huh? What do I tell them? Sorry, your father is leaving forever?!"

Sherry's heart immediately dropped into the pit of her stomach. No. He couldn't be! An unwanted fear grasped ahold of her as she raced down the stairs and into the foyer.

"Papa!"

Jean-Luc's head snapped behind him. Adel only eyed her as she ran past. "Papa, where are you going? Don't you want me to make you breakfast before you go?"

"Sherry..." his voice was heavy with grief. He hunched over, outstretching his arms for her to run into them one final time. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, a single tear dripping onto her head.

"You sound sad," she said, "are you okay?"

Jean-Luc sniffed back his tears. "I'm alright, ma alouette."

"Are you really leaving forever?"

He grit his teeth, silently cursing Adel. "I..."

🔸 ️🔸

From up on the staircase, from the furthest hallway, Gaelstrom listened with his heart like lead in his chest. This was it. It was really happening. He clutched his notebook, filled with his own poems, tight against him. His lips flattened into a quivering frown. Jean-Luc stood by what he said he would do. And even though Gaelstrom wasn't his own child, it still hurt.

"I'm sorry, Jean," he said in a hushed voice, "I tried."

A voice from the other end of the upper floor startled him, evoking fear for what was about to unfold right there before his eyes. Oh, god no. His instincts spurred him to abandon his hiding spot in the hall and stop Polnareff from being hurt. But his feet were glued to the floor. It wasn't his place to intervene, though he wanted to. He needed to be there for support, but he didn't know how.

"Dad?" Polnareff spoke as he traipsed down the stairs. "Auntie? Sherry? What's going on?"

Jean-Luc's arms loosened around Sherry, who looked back at her brother. A clear sad expression in her big, blue eyes.

🔸 ️🔸

Was no one going to say anything? Adel sneered at him as he walked to the door. She definitely wasn't going to speak up. Sherry fidgeted with her fingers, her eyes to the ground, watching her feet as she approached him.

"Sherry, what's wrong?" Polnareff asked, feeling that he knew the answer. His dad was once again leaving. When would it end?

Her quaking breaths were like hiccups. Tears beaded in her eyes and streamed down her face as she looked up at him.

"Papa's not eating breakfast..."

Anger flared behind his eyes. He knew it. He just knew it. This shit once again. He was getting really sick of seeing her heart break because of their father. Polnareff clenched his jaw, his head feeling as if it would explode right off of his shoulders. He stormed over to Jean-Luc whose sad expression hadn't changed. Gaelstrom had moved away from the hall and started down the stairs, becoming ill from all the worry.

"When were you going to tell me?" Polnareff raged. Jean-Luc's mouth parted to speak, but Polnareff cut him off. "What happened to being honest with each other, huh?"

"Jean, listen-"

"No, I'm tired of listening to you. Now you can listen to me. Just what makes you think it's okay to hurt us like this? I know you keep saying there's something important you have to do. But aren't we important too?!"

Jean-Luc raised his voice. "Of course you're important to me!"

"Then why!? The least you can do is tell us when you're coming back."

His father's eyes trailed away from him, lowering to the ground. Polnareff waited for some kind of response, even a lousy one. Gaelstrom sauntered down the stairs. Adel stood there with her arms crossed, watching everything happen. Then her eyes met Gael's. Cold, piercing. He gulped, turning his gaze away to save himself from the unsettling hatred they emitted. Only one other thing concerned him. He needed to save Jean-Luc's feelings somehow. He needed to calm Polnareff down. He just needed to do so much. Yet, that same uncertainty crushed him, keeping him indecisive.

Polnareff lowered his voice from being so loud. "When are you coming back?" he asked again, willing to accept that he couldn't stop him from leaving even if he wanted to.

Jean-Luc hesitated. His eyelids slowly closed. What was he supposed to say? Sorry son, I'm leaving on a quest that will undoubtedly lead me to my inevitable death?

"Tell me!" Polnareff barked.

Opening his eyes, Jean-Luc looked back at him, ruefully dragging the response to the tip of his tongue kicking and screaming. His mouth parted again, the words becoming caught in the back of his throat.

"I'm not." he finally admitted.

Emptiness. Polnareff's ineffable emotions became a jumbled cluster until, all at once, they imploded. What to feel, he didn't know. What he could say, he didn't know. His breath shuddered.

"What?"

Jean-Luc shut his eyes tightly, turning his back on them. He placed his hands on his hips and hung his head in shame.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" Polnareff said, on the brink of crying. "I'm a burden for you."

"What?!" Jean-Luc spun around. "Son, that's not-"

"I don't understand, why are you doing this?" Despair strangled his words, making their delivery all the more painful and nearly incomprehensible. "What'd we do wrong? What'd I do? Whatever it is, I'll fix it I swear. Leave like you always do, fine, but don't disown us."

Jean-Luc cupped his face in his hands, nearly crying himself. He shook his head, trying to get in a few words to explain things to the best of his ability. But Polnareff was panicking, not giving him a chance. His fingers dug into the skin on his father's arms. He had to stop him. Not just for his sake, but Sherry's as well.

"Is it because I said I hated you?" he sobbed. "I won't anymore, okay?"

Gaelstrom squeezed his fingers around the rings of his notebook. It wasn't his place - don't get involved, he reminded himself. He could help them heal later. Adel rolled her eyes and walked away, getting sick and tired of the melodrama. At least that's what she considered it to be. Sherry was standing beside him, watching Adel leave the foyer.

As Polnareff began pleading for his father to forgive him and stay, Gaelstrom made the mature decision and wrapped his arm around Sherry, leading her back into the foyer for the time being. She could see her father again once they'd maybe resolved their differences. He hoped so.

There was no reason to drag a dead horse through the mud. Jean-Luc's decision was final. He turned away from him, slipping from his son's grasp, and started off down the road. Polnareff had sank to his knees, reaching out to him.

"Dad, please! Don't leave me! I'm sorry!"

Jean-Luc stopped, never turning to look behind him. Polnareff crawled pitifully across the dirt towards him, gasping through tears.

"Is this like maman said? That if I'm bad the faeries leave? Is that why you're leaving? Answer me! I just want you to stay and be my dad, is that too much to ask!? I love you! I don't want you to leave." His shouts were so harsh that they could've ripped right through his ribcage. "Come back! Be my father. Be my friend. Be something! I'll be good from now on. I promise."

Polnareff's body slumped to the ground as he lied face-down in the dirt, soaking the sand in his tears. "Please. Don't you love me at all? Don't you love us even a little bit?"

Jean-Luc's stance remained motionless. He never looked back, making Polnareff feel as if he wasn't acknowledging any of his words at all. Part of him confirmed that belief, telling him that it was over. It was time to let go.

Unknown to him, however, Jean-Luc wept silently while he listened to his every word. Where Polnareff believed his words weren't getting through to him, the truth is: they were words Jean-Luc longed to hear more than anything. He wanted to just say fuck it to his objectives. Fuck going after the monster responsible. Fuck this curse. Fuck it all. What a wonderful feeling that would be. To live an ordinary life - a dream that would never be reached. And he knew that.

There were words that he himself wanted to share with Polnareff and Sherry. Things like this: You are the shining stars in my dark world; to see your light fade from the sky would leave me lost forever.

"And," he spoke under his breath, "lost I will remain."

Polnareff waited for his answer when he finally replied with one of the most soul-crushing things he'd ever hear him say again.
"I can't be your father anymore. This is where I leave you. Take care of yourselves."

Something collapsed inside of him as he watched Jean-Luc walk away. He really doesn't love us at all, he thought. Feelings of anger, heartache, and agony mixed into one. He balled his fist, grabbing sand and pebbles with it. His breath increased, wavering with desperation. Betrayal. Polnareff scrambled to his feet, anger pulsing behind his eyes and face. A flash of heat swamped over him. He picked up a rock and threw it.

Jean-Luc's eyes caught sight of the rock soaring past him and flying into the grass. Then another. And another.

Polnareff wasn't holding back his emotions. They came flooding out of him like a dam that had been blown to smithereens. With every rock that pelted his father's way, he embued in them a seething hatred. Sealing their departure with an indignant farewell.

"Don't ever come back!" Polnareff shouted, as he threw another rock. "You're dead to me! Go on, what're you waiting for?! Leave! That's what you want, isn't it?"

One of the rocks flew and hit Jean-Luc in the back of his head, drawing a thin stream of blood.

"I'll never forgive you." Polnareff said, his pained voice lowering from shouting.

Nothing more was said. Jean-Luc pressed on, leaving Polnareff to watch him vanish from sight. The larks sang, almost mockingly. How could the world around him be so cheerful when his despondency clouded every inch of his being? Jean-Luc Polnareff was gone. His lingering presence became a tragic reminder that the Polnareff kids didn't have a mother or a father - they were orphans.

🔸 ️🔸

Meanwhile, something horrible was happening. In Jean-Luc's bedroom came loud clanging of objects hitting the hardwood floor. Things were being thrashed, thrown, tossed, and spilled over until his room was no longer recognizable. Sitting amidst the clusterfuck was Adel, ruminating in her steadily increasing aggravation.

"Where is it!? You son of a bitch!"

She shot to her feet and continued searching. Drawers were empty. Each and every crevice of the room possessed nothing. "Where is the will!?" she growled. "Where is it, you piece of shit! Aaarrrrgghhh!"

Her flare-like bob was an unruly mess, frizzed and knotted. Adel back-stepped to the center of the room, clamping her hands over her head. With her teeth bared, she made a throaty scream. She grabbed her hair, pulling it without caring if it came out in large wads or not. The kettle scream turned her face a dark reddish purple. Without warning, she grabbed things at random and began smashing them.

Jean-Luc's television screen shattered. His kerosene lamps were thrown against the door, breaking them. She kicked over the dresser and screamed at it until she was blue in the face. Adel huffed and puffed, the hue of her face gradually returning to normal. Looking up, she saw a portrait of Jean-Luc and his late wife, Rhiannon. What the fuck were they smiling about? Smug pricks. She'd show them.

Adel's eyes scoured the room for something sharp. She was going to kill him, dammit. She was going to bring him ruin. In the drawer sitting in the middle of the room was a pair of scissors. Quickly, she grabbed them and pulled Jean-Luc's picture off the wall. It slammed against the floor. Standing over it maliciously felt strangely satisfying in that moment. She didn't know why, but truthfully didn't care. She hated her brother more than ever for what he'd done to her.

"You didn't sacrifice anything for me," she snarled, raising the scissors over her head, "you just tossed me into the pit of hell and left me!"

The silver blades cracked against the glass. "How dare you do this to me, Jean-Luc! How dare you take everything I've ever wanted away from me!"

The scissor blades gouged out both Jean-Luc and Rhiannon's eyes in the painting. Adel wanted it to be him. And that wife of his. What a bitch. No doubt both of them thought the exact same way. They were both assholes that deserved pain. Deserved the cruel fate that life had dealt her. Something in the way that bitch smiled just crawled under her skin. How could she be so happy? How could she find happiness so easily and Adel couldn't?

"Stupid little fucking bitch with your stupid smile and stupid face. A face I just want to rip right off and burn! Too bad you're not still alive. I'd gladly take these scissors and just...!"

Ramming the blade through her face, she forcefully dragged it in a downward motion, tearing a large hole into someone's highly detailed masterpiece.

Rrrrrrrghhhh! was the sound she made as the blade tore the image of Rhiannon apart. Why did she have to walk into her life and just ruin everything? Adel's father's inheritance was hers and hers alone.

Polnareff had passed by the bedroom door, heading to his room for some much needed alone time, when he overheard Adel weeping. The door creaked open and he gasped at the horrific mess strewn to and fro. His chief concern wasn't so much the mess, but his Aunt.

"Auntie!" he rushed in, stepping over broken glass. "What happened in here? Are you alright?"

Adel quietly seethed as he knelt beside her and placed a hand to her shoulder. She wanted to say: Take your disgusting little hand off me.

Polnareff's eyes found the picture of his father. His mother was so unrecognizable, he hadn't noticed she was part of the portrait. He rarely ever went into his father's room, much less paid attention to the paintings in it.

"You hate him too, huh?"

Adel glared at him from her periphery. Stupid little arrogant shit, what did he know about hate? What did he know about pain and suffering? He was a pampered palace brat, something she should've been.

"He's hurt us all pretty badly. It's going to be alright, you're not alone anymore. You got me and Sherry now."

Adel grit her teeth. That was precisely the fucking problem. She didn't want him or Sherry. She wanted to be left the hell alone. She wanted to get rid of them and not have to constantly cater to the needs of annoying children. The hell with them.

Polnareff rubbed her back, attempting to console her. "It must be really hard for you to keep your emotions bottled up like that. You've really made a huge mess, but I can't blame you. Dad's such an asshole. I don't care if he ever comes back. It's not like he loved us anyway."

Adel's fury decreased, but only slightly. Why did his words remind her of herself? Just why? God damn her relating to some talkative brat. She glanced at him again, her brows relaxed from furrowing. Their experience sounds so similar for some reason.

"You know," Polnareff said, "I only ever wanted him to be here for us. To be our dad. To love us and care for us as a dad should. Guess that was just a fantasy I was living. It's okay. At least you're still here, Auntie. It's not like you're as evil as he is."

Adel looked at him, amused. He was so naive. Though she couldn't deny their experiences were similar. All of her life, she only ever wanted her father to show her the same love he showed Jean-Luc. She blamed herself for her mother leaving them all behind and then getting ignored by her father was icing on the cake of her ever continual self-loathing. Turns out she was right all along. Jean-Luc really was just like their father.

Making Polnareff his beneficiary instead of her... for that, she hoped he died facing off with Mordred. Fuck him and his recklessness. Served him right. Polnareff climbed to his feet, reaching out a hand to help her up. Adel instinctively wanted to swat it away like she did her brother's. He never really meant it when he expressed concern, in her opinion. And she'd be damned she gave his kids, the very obstacles in her path of obtaining the riches she deserved, any hint of appreciation or care. They could rot.

Adel wanted so badly to reach up and smack him. No, best not do that. It was more fun toying with him, so she would for a little while longer. She withdrew her hand, helping herself to her feet instead.

"Oh, okay then." Polnareff said. "You gonna be okay?"

"Oui..."

"You sure?"

Adel nodded, avoiding eye contact.

"Alright. See you later, Auntie."

Polnareff went to his room, leaving Adel to stand there in the aftermath. The hot anger boiling inside of her fell stagnant. The satisfaction of cutting up the painting left her feeling apathetic for what she'd done. They deserved it - both of them. One thing failed to subside and that was her need for fulfillment. Ever since Polnareff's mother walked into their lives, she'd been nothing but a burden, having everything given to her at the drop of a hat.

If an Irish-English woman deserved her money, then by god, Adel did most of all. Come to think of it, Rhiannon had something precious in her possession. Adel hummed, laughing sinisterly. As the old saying went: an eye for an eye. Those pearls she clung onto so much wouldn't be missed. It wasn't like Jean-Luc or the kids needed them. She knew of the old master bedroom where Rhiannon passed away and the things locked inside of it. Maybe she could indulge herself and take a peek through her things?

🔸 ️🔸

"You alright, Sherry?" Gaelstrom asked. "Want to go make some pancakes?" He thought it might chase away the darkness hanging over her. Much to his discontent, it didn't. Sherry sat there on the loveseat in the foyer, eyes to the floor.

"Not right now." she replied softly. "I'm not hungry anymore."

What could he say? What could he do? "You know I'm here for you -"

Before he could finish his sentence she'd leapt towards him, embracing him with a big hug around the waist. "Awww, hey. Here, let's sit down."

As she sat beside him, she layed her head in his lap and sobbed loudly. "I want my papa!"

"I know, I know."

Shite, what do I do, he thought. Poor Sherry. Poor Polnareff. Gaelstrom wanted more than anything to chase the sorrow away from both of them in an instant. If only it were possible. Seeing how Jean-Luc left them behind not only tore them apart, but him as well. Especially given the fact that Jean-Luc opened up to him. Trusted him. Gaelstrom promised him he'd be there for them both and that was what he was going to do.

First, he had to think of a way to comfort Sherry. There had to be something that would ease her stress. Sherry was still weeping in his lap, facing the opposite end of the room with her teddy bear tightly squeezed against her chest. Gaelstrom pondered on a solution and found one. Just one. Maybe it wouldn't work instantly, but if it helped at all, that was more than enough.

I got it.

Softly, he sang Eirigh Suas a Stoirin. It was the same song Polnareff's mother used to sing to them. The song her brother showed to her every time her father left. Gaelstrom's lilt filled the foyer, staving off the looming cloud of depression over her head slowly, but surely. Sherry gasped, recognizing the words and the tune almost instantly.

"You know that song?" she asked.

"I do. My mum sings it to me sometimes."

Sherry sat up from laying in his lap, rubbing her eye. "My maman used to sing it to us when we were real little. That's what big brother says."

"He told me about that."

"He did?"

"Uh-huh. It's a lovely song, isn't it?"

Sherry nodded, a smile shining through the sorrow. "It's my favoritest. Which is weird, because I don't know what the words mean."

Gaelstrom laughed. "Tell ya what: I'll translate it for you one of these days."

"What's a translate?"

"I'll make it where you can understand the words better."

"Really?" Sherry hugged him tightly, taking him by surprise. "You're the sweetest friend ever, Gaelstrom. Never change for anyone, okay?"

He couldn't help but smile. She was always so damn cute. Gaelstrom hugged her. He supposed singing her that song really did help in some way. Sherry hopped up from the loveseat, her mood turning the tables when it came to the energy in the room. It was shocking to see how drastic the affects of singing had on her. Then again, maybe she was just masking her emotions to make him feel better for trying? It definitely sounded more like something her brother would do, but still.

She beamed back at him, the ear of her teddy bear lightly brushing against her chin. "Can I go see big brother?"

"I don't think now is a good time," Gaelstrom said, "he's going through an awful lot. Why don't you and I find something to do in the meantime instead?"

"Like what?"

"Ummm..." he looked off in thought. "...well, we could-"

"I know! How about hide-and-seek?"

"Again?" Gaelstrom groaned.

"We don't have to play it if you don't want to." Her voice was low, almost crestfallen.

What was he thinking? Sure, they'd played hide-and-seek a zillion times before, and it was getting a little old playing the same game over and over. But he couldn't deny her something that brought her joy, especially during that grievous time. Gaelstrom sucked it up and lightheartedly went along with it.

"Well, what're you still standing here for?" he teased. "Shouldn't you be looking for a place to hide?"

Sherry gasped through a wide-mouthed smile and ran off, giggling. "Count to ten!"

Gaelstrom waited until she was out of sight to slip his notebook under the sofa cushions. He faced the wall and counted to ten, calling out that she better be ready, because he was coming. He could hear her soft giggles coming from the kitchen. Always so predictable, he thought, laughing under his breath.

He peeked into the kitchen, smirking. "Sherr-bear, I can hear you."

"Can you see me?" her distant voice sounded playful as Gaelstrom listened to objects moving from the other end of the room. She was leaving the kitchen through the other doorway.

"Gotcha." Gaelstrom went to head her off around the other hallway. Her laughs grew further away as she raced into the foyer and climbed stairs to the second floor. "Don't even bother hiding in your room, Sherry. You know I'll find you."

Gaelstrom climbed to the top of the staircase, catching a glimpse of the big, blue ribbon in Sherry's hair as she darted into a room down the west corridor and closed the door. Too easy. He pursued her, quietly opening the door to a room he'd never been in before.

Bookshelves lined the walls, towering high to the ceiling. Near the window was a desk and a globe sitting on top of it. Was this Jean-Luc's office? Weird. He didn't even know he had an office. Gaelstrom thought about the surroundings and saw that there was no way she could hide near any of the shelves with how closely knit they were. Maybe under the desk? He tip-toed quietly over to it, biting his lip to suppress snickering at how predictable she was being.

She'd never hear him coming. Standing at the corner of the desk, he anticipated making the best jump scare. Not yet...not yet...now! He leapt towards the window with a brief shout. The big smile on his face fell away when he noticed she was never under the desk.

"Huh?"

"Can you see me now?" she said, blowing raspberries at him from the doorway.

"You were behind the door this whole time!?"

Giggling, she fled and ran further up the hall, clutching the arm of her teddy bear. "You should've seen the look on your face!" she called back.

Gaelstrom smiled at the picture frames sitting on the desk. Sherry's first baby picture. And next to that, a picture of Polnareff as a two-year-old. Complete with the look that he just didn't have a clue. Some things never change.

He stumbled into the bannister as he ran out of the office and rounded the corner, catching a glimpse of Sherry in his periphery. Letting out a playful scream, she made haste towards a room near the end of the hall where she was certain he'd never find her.

"Sherry, I swear. One of these days you're gonna wish you had my hide-and-seek skills." He proceeded to step quietly up the corridor. "I don't think you realize who you're dealing with here," he taunted, "I'm the real deal at this game, you know that."

No answer. He grinned impishly. "Oh, so that's how ya wanna play, huh? What's the matter? Scared I'm gonna find ya? Awww, come on."

As he quietly made his way up the hall, an eerie feeling began to unnerve him. Something didn't feel right. "Sherry?"

Still no answer. The feeling he wasn't supposed to be there swamped over him, prompting him to stop where he was and rethink their little game. This was beginning to seem less fun than before. Yeah. Quitting for the moment and playing elsewhere was probably best.

"Hey, Sherry, I think we should-"

A crack in a door caught his eye. None of the others were open, just the one. Okay, maybe he'd keep looking. Once he'd found her, they'd make their return to the foyer and just play on the east side instead. No big deal. Gaelstrom inched closer to the crack in the door, reaching to carefully slip his hand around the doorknob.

"I told you," he said, readying himself to spring the door open and surprise Sherry, "I'm the real -"

He swiftly pushed the door open. Gaelstrom's mouth parted. What he was going to say disappeared from his mind, all but inexistant, as he layed eyes on a person he didn't expect to run into. Not in that part of the house.

Adel's head snapped to the doorway. Her blue eyes cut through him like a scalding hot knife taken out of a blacksmith's forge. Gaelstrom's hand slipped away from the doorknob, his mortified gaze still frozen on Adel. If this was the room he thought it was, she wasn't supposed to be in there. No one was.

A jewelry box sat opened on the bed where she was sitting. Earrings, rings, and necklaces - among other things - lied strewn across the blanket. Drawers to the dresser had been pulled off track and placed in the floor, the contents of it scattered about. Gaelstrom's eyes widened. Of all the treasures in the room that were no doubt precious to Polnareff, something far more precious than even those were gripped tightly in Adel's hand. There could be no denying now...this was Rhiannon's room.

She smirked, placing Rhiannon's pearls on her wrist. "C'est tres jolie. And authentic. Think I'll keep it."