The void is dark blue, just a skip above black, and weightless.

At least, it was for a moment. Joe found himself standing in a room. He looked around, and realised that he was standing in his old apartment. It looked nearly exactly the same as it did when he moved out. And on the bed was another one of him; just a decade younger.

He saw the phone ring, and not-him picked up. Joe recognized this; this was the night he met his daughter!

…Except, not-him didn't react the same way. He simply kept his aloof, almost-angry expression, and hung up the phone before the nurse had even finished speaking.

Joe's heart went cold. This was his worst nightmare; turning out just like his father.

He squeezed his eyes shut. S'il vous plaît me dire que Katrina est ça va, he thought. (Please tell me Katrina is okay.)

And when he opened his eyes, there she was. Except it wasn't at their house. Rather, Katrina was living in a nice little bungalow, with Lizzie and Marlowe.

A light caught his eye, and he looked towards the window. It was a police car. Fear struck his heart again. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

Just as he suspected, there was Laura, shouting and hurling abuse at the two, while the cops cuffed them and took Katrina to Laura's car. Joe couldn't believe the slurs he was hearing come from her mouth. He covered his ears, not wanting to hear anymore of the hate. A small part of him was suddenly grateful that Von Kaiser was not around when Laura did the same to him.

He jumped forward towards Katrina and tried to grab her, to scoop her up and hold her tighter than he ever had before. But he couldn't. He phased right through her, and found himself on the floor of the arena.

He picked himself up and looked around. Everything looked completely normal. He could see Flying Feather, and Mr. Sandman talking while leaning against the wall. And there was Pierce, filling out some paperwork.

And then he saw him.

Well, not-him, but still him. He looked much different; stronger, for one. His hair was buzzed, and he was dressed in black with twinges of blood red. He scared himself.

Not-him passed by Von Kaiser and Great Tiger, who noticeably tensed up when they saw him. "Äh, hallo, Bas," said Von Kaiser, looking fearful. "Ich, äh, sprach gerade von meinem wunden Hals." (Uh, hello, Bas. I, uh, was just talking about my sore neck.)

Not-him (eh, Bas) glared. "Tu vas savoir tout à propos de ça, n'est pas Viktor?" (You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Viktor?) His lips curled into a devilish smile as he stalked off.

Joe was appalled. He would never say that to anyone, let alone his fiance! And why were they calling him Bas? Well, that question was answered when a poster on the wall caught his eye: Von Kaiser vs. Iron Bastille, today at 3 pm.

Before he knew it, he was back in the apartment. And there was Iron Bastille, sitting on his bed, looking at his phone. Joe was suddenly overcome with rage and hatred for this man. He took a firm stance in front of him. "J'espere que tu es content." (I hope you're happy.)

Iron Bastille looked up. He looked at least mildly disturbed to see another of him standing before him. "Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" (What do you want?)

"Tu es exactement comme ton père," Joe spat. "Il y a une petite fille dans ce monde qui a grandi sans son père à cause de ton propre égoïsme." (You're exactly like your father. There's a little girl in this world who's growing up without her father because of your own selfishness.)

"Tu ne sais pas ça," snarled Iron Bastille. "Elle n'est pas mon." (You don't know that. She's not mine.)

"Elle est," said Joe, "et tu vas savoir si tu prendras le test de DNA." (She is, and you would know that if you took the DNA test.)

Iron Bastille stood up. "Ma vie est parfaite exactement comme ceci. Pourquoi veux-tu gâcher ça?" (My life is perfect exactly like this. Why do you want to ruin that?)

Overcome with anger, Joe slapped Iron Bastille across the face. "Parce que je ne suis pas un lâche et j'ai un peu d'empathie dans mon corps!" (Because I'm not a coward and I have a bit of empathy in my body!)

Iron Bastille's face went red. He tried to attack Joe, but he phased right through him. "Tu ne peux pas m'attaquer," said Joe in a smug tone as Iron Bastille continued to swing at him, "parce que je suis vrai et tu n'es pas. J'ai une belle maison, et une belle famille. Ca m'est égal qu'est-ce qui se passe a toi, parce que tu n'es pas vrai, et je ne vais jamais descendre entre toi!" (You can't hurt me, because I'm real and you're not. I have a nice house, and a beautiful family. I don't care what happens to you, because you're not real, and I'll never turn into you!)

And with that, Joe found himself waking up, back in his bed, in his nice house. He looked up and around, and remembered that today was Saturday, which meant Katrina wouldn't be in school today. Looking and seeing the rose that Von Kaiser had given them on their Valentine's date last night, he realised that today was Family Day. Joe got out of bed and went into her room to snuggle her good morning. "Dad," cooed Katrina, half-giggling, half-groaning, "no one wakes up at seven o'clock on a Saturday."

"Je sais, ma belle," said Joe, "mais j'ai juste avoir un rêve ou tu n'étais pas ici. J'ai besoin d'assurer que tu es apprécié." (I know, sweetie, but I just had a dream where you weren't here. I need to make sure that you're appreciated.) He corralled her downstairs to have a waffle breakfast.