They were already a few days into their trip.

They'd been sleeping at Bob's place for the most part, until eventually Ethan suggested they stay at his place with Tyler (they were roommates) since Bob worked from home and they didn't want to interfere too much. They readily took it, and it wasn't too far of a drive to Ethan and Tyler's humble apartment.

They did manage to snag Wade the next day, and they got to visit some of the smaller areas, like Little Tokyo, and visit varying restaurants. It was pleasant and exciting, especially for the three Europeans.

Of course, it was hard at times. Mark and Jack had to hide their abilities, and Dan had had a nightmare one night, thick and stifling that had awoken everyone in time to hear his strangled yelp. Ethan and Tyler didn't question or seem to remember feeling Dan's nightmare, at least, and they all managed to get back to bed relatively easily.

(Of course, Mark stayed up with Dan into the early morning hours in case he wanted to talk. Phil had been supportive and stayed nearby. And Jack had shared an emphathetic look, understanding all too well the traumatic nightmares they both carried heavier than the others.)

But, maybe they hadn't forgotten or dismissed them entirely, because Ethan had insisted they all go to a nice breakfast restaurant the next morning, and Tyler insisted on paying.

And if anything, Ethan's gawking at Dan had increased.

"I wonder why," Phil would mutter lowly to his best friend.

Dan just shrugged; he didn't feel any ill will or intent. Just. . .intense curiousity. "I mean, I'm quiet and keep to myself; on top of my . . .episode the other night," he murmurs the word low and embarrassed, "who wouldn't be?"

They didn't have to wait long, fortunately.

They've been in Los Angeles a week now, and it's an overcast day. The heatwave had broken, thankfully, their third day in ("thank gawd," Jack had muttered), and with that people had dispelled and the beaches weren't quite as crowded.

It was somewhat suspicious when Tyler had enthusiastically suggested a trip to the beach, since, "no one will be there anyways with this weather."

(Tyler and Ethan had been conferring in low tones the last few days, trailing off when any of them came near, so they weren't as caught off guard by this suggestion.)

Mark had shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

It was completely different; chilly and clammy, almost foreboding with everything cast in low colors and tones. But Phil seemed eager enough, shoving Dan and then running through a flock of seagulls as his best friend chased him.

Mark rolled his eyes, muttering, "Children."

Jack leaned an elbow on his shoulder, grinning widely. "Aw, c'mon Mahrk! Don't tell me he don't wanna go run around too."

Mark sniffed, standing taller and pretending to be dignified. "Why I would never! I'm a well-behaved adult."

It was a game that was common amongst them, and Jack fell into it perfectly. "Are ye sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Then what about that time with the oranges?"

He whipped around, eyes wide. "You wouldn't."

Jack had begun to back away, but his grin had changed now. It was controlled yet a tad chaotic. "Ye know exactly what I'm tahlking about. I mean, I know it was an April fool's prank and all-"

"Jack. . ." There was a hard edge; a warning growl. Dark eyes narrowing furiously.

"But it was such a shame that when it backfired, an' ya tried to blame - aak!"

He took off running, sand spraying out behind him as Mark lunged forwards, making a show of being angrier than he actually was. Tyler pulled out his phone while Ethan ran after them, laughing.

"What! Guys! I wanna know the story!"

Tyler made sure to catch it all on video. Nothing like some recorded memories to look back on fondly.

Plus, who wouldn't want to relive when Phil tripped, Dan smacking into him and leaving them both sprawled out and spitting sand, conveniently stumbling Mark, as Jack managed to jump over them?

Ethan was probably the least worse-for-ware, too, and all their raucous cries and curses and laughter were a delightful sound.

After about fifteen minutes of well-done tomfoolery, they all sat down on the sand, panting and looking out seawards. It was content. Happy.

Ethan and Tyler shared a look. It was now or never.

Tyler cleated his throat. "So, Guys? We. . .did actually want to talk to you about something."

"I knew it," Phil muttered, trying to ruffle sand out of his hair. Dan sputtered, sharp indignation spiking from him as all that sand just happened to hit him.

"It's not a big deal," Ethan blurted our, hands waving frantically. "I mean, it's important, but, uh. . ."

Mark watched Tyler; stoic as he could seem, Mark had a good handle on reading him. He seemed. . .fairly relaxed. Curious, maybe a tad anxious.

Mark let himself feel it's fine no worries, directing it mostly at Dan while shooting the others a reassuring look.

They seemed to accept it with varying degrees of ease, Jack taking the reins to nod at the two Americans. "Sure. We're all friends now. We don't have any problem hearin' what you have ya say."

Ethan seemed to brighten up. Then grew awkward. "Well, I have a question first. Uh, Dan. . .are you a Dismalen?"

Suddenly they all felt a sharp feeling, like their stomach dropping. Dan's expression was stricken. "How the eff did you-"

Ethan and Tyler winced, the latter putting a hand on his stomach. "Mostly? That."

"We're not planning on telling anyone," Ethan quickly assured. "I just-"

"How do you even know what a Dismalen is?" Phil's question was calm, innocently curious. But even without Dan's Dismalen abilities, Jack and Mark could see his hands tighten, and how protective he was.

"Yeah, how'd you-?"

"Because I'm an alien too!" He finally blurred out.

They fell silent, watching Ethan with a mix of surprise and intruige.

"Look," he sighed, fixing his glasses. "Tyler and I noticed how you all interact with Dan - it's, like, weirdly intuitive. And with that nightmare the other night- it wasn't hard to put two and two together."

"We didn't want to just confront you in the apartment," Tyler added. "We didn't want to keep secrets, but we didn't want to stress you even more, either. So we just waited for the right time."

There was a pause. The clammy breeze stirred the sand around them, and a pelican dove into the ocean.

"So. . .what species are you?" Jack eventually asked.

"I'm. . .they were originally called Eptones. It's a neighbor planet to Dismal," he breathed out slowly, "but they changed heir name to Kræhncs about seven hundred years ago. My great-grandmother and her family came to Earth for a change of pace."

"Why the name change?" The inquisitive astronomer in Mark couldn't help but ask. Anything related to Space - Aliens included - piqued his interest.

Ethan shrugged, and looked to Tyler, who unhelpfully shrugged back. "Something about a King, right?"

Ethan squinted, trying hard to remember. "Yeah. There was some King. A ship had sank in his harbor, and wanting to get his family heirloom out of it, he demanded lowly villagers to be sent down. Because, y'know, better the villagers drown than his guard. They used some sort of crank-chain-wheel thing. The group they sent down somehow survived. They - uh, we I guess," he seemed a little self-conscious admitting it out loud, "can like, breathe underwater? Sorta? So they decided to change their names after that."

"Really?! That's so cool!" Both Jack and Phil said in tandem, eyes shining.

"I mean, it's kinda gross," Tyler couldn't help but quip, "he grows some sort of moss in his throat, and then coughs all that gunk back up when he's done with it."

Ethan shot him an extremely offended, incredulous look. "You effing jerk." He seemed ready to bowl him over, right there in the sand.

They both looked to Mark, who had cleared his throat sort of exaggeratedly. He seemed sheepish, but trustful, as he said, "Well, since you were honest with us, it's only fair if we return the favor. I'm partially something called a Warfian."

"And I'm a Bossotronian." Jack flashed them a smile.

"Wait, wait, wait; what?! Are you saying you're all aliens too?" Ethan looked to Phil with wide eyes. Phil merely shrugged.

"And you never told me?" Tyler seemed, well, hurt.

"To be honest, I didn't find out until a few years ago," Mark confessed, "I wasn't sure how to bring it up." Tyler seems to accept that, shoulders relaxing.

"And what about you?" Dan shoots the question to Tyler.

"Undoubtably human," he replies.

"So, we have five - maybe six aliens here - and they all happen to have roommates who are human?" Ethan chuckles. "Sounds like a bad set-up to a joke."

"You effing know it," Jack mutters.

The dramatic moment seems to pass with out much fanfare. They seem to sit quietly with their thoughts for a moment. It's. . .not awkward, not exactly. More tentative than anything.

"So. . . wanna meet Sam?"

"Who's Sam?"

Jack grins, and with a flash of light, the eyeball is sitting in his palms, chirping aggitatedly about the Sam.

"Oh my god! Is that - that's an eyeball!"

"Yep!"

"He's well-trained guys, I promise."

"Wanna hold him?"

"Uh. . .how about no?"

"Tyler?"

"Sure."

"So wanna hear how we all found out?"

"Oh my gosh Phil, really?"

"What?"

Exasperated fond embarrassed friend.

Dan rolled his eyes as Phil launched into the story, Mark huffing laughter under a smile, while Jack took back Sam from Tyler, trying vainly to get Ethan to pet him.

And the sun lit gray clouds into gold and orange and pink, tinging and bleeding out into the sea, while they spent the time away recounting memories old in order to make memories new.