A little forwarning -

This chapter deals with Callie's backstory, which includes domestic abuse and child death. There are no descriptions—she's compartmentalized it so well she tells it in a matter-of-fact way—but it's referenced in case that's a trigger or sensitive topic.

Starline stood with his hands clasped behind his back as the skunks he'd sent to retrieve the child stumbled back through the portal. It closed after they hit the floor, and the pungent aroma of their unique main attack permeated the pristine atmosphere of the lab. He pulled a perfectly pressed handkerchief from his pocket, and used it to cover his beak.

"It would appear you've failed me," he said as he stepped toward the console and tapped a panel. The fans built into the walls flicked to life, drawing the odor away and out of the room. Once the smell had faded to a tolerable level, the platypus tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket.

Rough and Tumble pushed themselves to their feet, their heads hanging low and ears flicked back.

"We'll get 'im next time, Boss," Rough said, flicking his tail in an attempt to disperse the stench around them. "Just caught us off-guard, is all."

"We'll go back right now and grab the brat," Tumble said, slamming a fist into his other palm. A deep furrow pinched his brow. "We won't let them weird lookin' things get the drop on us again."

"No," Starline said, turning his back to them and pulling up the video he'd recorded. He flipped through the footage, watching the exchange again. "It would do us no good to attack again at this point. I will need some time to evaluate our new enemy, and concoct a new plan for a higher chance at success in the future."

The skunks exchanged a glance. Rough shrugged.

"Say what?"

Starline sighed and tossed a glance back over his shoulder. "Go clean yourselves up. I will let you know when you can go back and, ahem, kick their butts."

The skunks shared a grumble, but wandered off to wash up. Starline listened to them go, before turning his attention back to the recording. He pulled a chair to him, sitting down to carefully dissect the footage.

"Now then," he said, a little smile curling one side of his mouth. "What can we learn from this?"

~X~X~X~

Wade watched as Callie tugged her braid with one hand, the other slowly dragging through Silver's quills as the boy hugged her tightly. He was glad everything had worked out and they'd kept Silver out of Starline's hands, but something was eating at him.

The way Callie had frozen outside as Starline talked. He'd never expected her to be intimidated by the platypus, and the fact that she had essentially been paralyzed like that was confusing.

And the way she acted now, as she pulled on her braid, her face unreadable, eyes unfocused and far away. There was something bothering her, something that had been bothering her practically since Silver arrived. She'd said things about caring for a child in the past, but always brushed it off quickly when asked about it. Was that what caused this behavior?

She was there for Silver, encouraging him to talk about his past so they knew what to expect and to best prepare for it. But it seemed as though her own past was affecting her in much the same way as Silver's had affected him. Maybe she needed to talk about it just as much as Silver did.

Would she open up to him about it? They'd been through a lot together in these past two days—cripes, had it only been two days?—but technically that didn't mean they were friends.

Ultimately, all he could do was ask. The worst she could do was say no, and snap at him as she had a few other times since this whole fiasco started. He didn't hold it against her—she had said she gets snippy when she's stressed—but that didn't mean he wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

Still. She needed to talk about it. Whatever it was.

He took a deep breath, his eyes wandering up to the cut above her left eyebrow.

"Hey," Wade said, his voice quiet. She flicked her eyes to him, but that blank look was still there. He pointed to her wound. "Can I take a look at that?"

She didn't respond right away, but after a moment offered him a tired smile and shook her head. "I'm fine, Wade. Really."

Another slow tug of her braid.

He curled the corner of his lip up. "Okay, but, humor me? If you won't let me take you to the hospital to make sure you don't have a concussion or something, at least let me take care of that."

She looked like she wanted to argue. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she opened her mouth before closing it again with a sigh. She glanced down at the boy against her, who seemed to be dozing off.

"All right. If it'll make you feel better." She tossed her braid behind her, and gently shifted Silver, lifting him up to rest his head against her shoulder. Tucking her arm beneath the boy's tail, she pushed herself up off the couch. "Let's take some stuff up for the cats and get him in bed first."

Wade nodded, and followed her as she used her phone as a flashlight to guide them.

~X~X~X~

Twenty minutes later, Callie sat on the toilet lid as Wade tended to her very minor head injury. Her phone sat on the sink, the light directed where he could see what he was doing. He squirted some alcohol on a cotton ball and dabbed it to the cut above her eyebrow, and she hissed in breath. It stung like the dickens.

He offered her a guilty smile. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

Silence filled the room, as he carefully dabbed her wound.

This was ridiculous. It was just a tiny cut, he didn't need to play nurse. It had already begun to scab over, anyway. She didn't need help. But she humored him, and let him tend to her wittle boo boo.

At least the mirror was still intact—Silver's shockwave or whatever it was hadn't made it in here, apparently. Small miracles.

She was tired. So damn tired. It had been a very long day, and there were so many things rolling through her head right now she felt a little dizzy if she tried to make sense of them all and put them in order.

So she tried not to think at all. No good comes from thinking after dark, after all. She pushed everything away, and focused on the man above her.

"So how is it, Deputy?" she asked after a long, silent moment. "Will I live?"

He uttered a soft chuckle. "It's just a little cut. I just wanted to make sure it wouldn't get infected."

"You didn't have to do this, you know. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said, pulling out a little band-aid. "But isn't it nice to not have to?"

Callie's heart gave a squeeze. She flicked her eyes up, watching as Wade carefully pressed the bandage over her cut. His face was serious, his hands gentle.

"There we go," he said, stepping back. "All done."

"Thanks," she said, her voice soft. "Didn't feel a thing."

"Good," he said, a little smile on his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked awkward. Well, more awkward than usual. "Hey . . . uh, can I ask you something?"

She stood up, holding a hand to her bruised side. "Sure."

He paused, as though debating with himself over whatever he was going to say next. A little warning went off in her head—if someone was questioning whether or not to say something, that probably meant they shouldn't.

"Back there, you kinda froze when Starline was monologing." His voice was soft and unsure. "Were you afraid of him?"

Callie swallowed. She turned to clean up the first aid supplies. "No. He just . . . reminded me of someone."

"Oh." His reflection in the mirror watched her put things away. "Who?"

She didn't respond. Slammed the cabinet door a little too forcefully.

"Look, you don't have to tell me." His voice was still soft, but there was more care in it than before. "But you've been saying things about raising a kid already, and talking about how you didn't want to keep Silver, and looked pretty scared when we were facing off with Starline and those skunks. If there's something bothering you, maybe you should talk about it. Like Silver did. I promise I'll listen."

A plethora of responses jumped to mind, and Callie grit her teeth. Snark, anger, dismissive jokes. She took a few deep breaths, pulling them in and pushing them out through her nose.

Anger stomped its way to the fore.

How dare he infringe upon her privacy like this! It was no business of his, and asking about it was waaay out of line. She would be well within her right to turn around and slap him for even bringing it up. They weren't friends, and he had zero reason to ask, let alone expect her to tell him.

She cast him a side-eye, lips pulled tight and ready to unleash holy hell on him for daring to care, when he reached around himself to press a hand to the bruises he'd sustained from the skunk throw down.

The angry retorts died on her tongue.

This man had stuck with her all weekend, going along as she hid important information from the town sheriff. He'd checked in with her multiple times to make sure she was okay with the new hedgehog that had arrived. He'd helped her find said hedgehog, when she herself had lost her cool and scared the boy off. And he'd helped defend that same hedgehog from what amounted to an evil scientist and his two goons who'd tried to haul him back to the horrible planet he'd called home.

Wade had gone out of his way time and again—and endured injury—to ensure not only her safety, but Silver's as well. The very least she could do was be honest with him, and answer his question. She owed him that much.

The vault loomed heavy in her mind, but she slammed it shut.

With one final deep breath, Callie let out a long sigh.

"I'm gonna need a drink for this."

~X~X~X~

"I was married once."

Wade cast her a raised eyebrow, taking a swallow from his wine cooler. He was usually a beer drinker but the coolers were all she had and he wasn't about to be an ungrateful guest. Callie held hers in her lap as they sat on the steps of her back deck.

"You were?"

She nodded. She'd undone her braid, and now her hair hung loose, framing her face like a curtain. Wade thought she looked more vulnerable like that. She wouldn't look at him. "I was."

"Oh." He wasn't sure what else to say. "When?"

"Right after high school. My mother died when I was 10, and my father . . ." She paused for a moment, before taking a sip of her drink. "Well, we didn't get along. Personality clashes. He performed his parental duty by keeping me fed and sheltered, but other than that . . ." She shrugged. "Personal interactions with a child weren't exactly his thing."

Wade nodded. Having a father who didn't seem to like you was something he could identify with. "I'm sorry."

Another shrug. "It is what it is. Or was, I guess. I had to learn to take care of myself pretty early. Which was fine. A lot of other kids had it much worse than I did. But not having a lot of attention and encouragement at home meant I looked for it in all the wrong places."

Silence fell. Wade didn't push, he wanted her to tell in her own time. He'd gone to a few therapists for his anxiety and self-confidence issues, so he knew the best way to earn someone's trust was to simply give them the space they needed to feel comfortable with you.

She uttered a sigh, turning to look at him through her hair. "You know that old saying that girls grow up to marry their fathers?" He nodded. "Well, I just had to one-up that and marry someone worse."

"What happened?"

A scowl crossed her face, and she turned away again. "Mark happened."

"Mark?"

"A 24 year old who took one look at my naive 17 year old ass and thought 'jackpot!'"

Wade furrowed his brow. "I don't follow."

She took another drink. "When I was a senior in high school, I was running myself ragged to try and be a functioning adult. My father told me he wanted me out of the house as soon as I graduated, and I was feeling pretty desperate to figure out what I'd do after that. The job market was pretty crappy, and even back then I wouldn't have been able to afford an apartment with just my pay from the grocery store I worked at. College was out of the question, as there was no way I could afford that, either."

Another drink, and she gave a sigh as she turned to lean back against the railing post, facing Wade more directly.

"Like I said, I was desperate. And I think Mark smelled it on me or something, because he started flirting with me when he came into the store. He'd go through my checkout line and was just the nicest guy—complimenting me, leaving me little gifts, that kinda thing. Real Prince Charming stuff." She pulled her lips into a grimace. "I was so stupid."

"You were young, you didn't know." Wade turned to sit like her, leaning against the post opposite her. "He was nice to you. You were starving for that kind of positive attention."

Callie looked at him for a long moment, a bitter smile curling her lips as she nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."

Another long silent moment as they both tipped their drinks back.

"I take it the Prince Charming act didn't last."

She stared at the battered remains of Starline's drone. "Lasted long enough to get me to marry him. Then he got . . . mean."

Wade warred with himself. He didn't want to push, didn't want to dredge up any more painful memories than she was ready to deal with, but he simply couldn't help asking. "How mean?"

Her face grew dark, brows furrowed. "I got really good at hiding black eyes, mean. Knew exactly how to turn so he didn't catch me in the kidneys with his fists, mean. Learned to cry silently so I didn't bother him and make him even angrier, mean."

Silence fell once more and this time Wade welcomed it. His skin went cold at her descriptions, his chest tight. "That's . . . oh God, Cal. Why didn't you leave?"

He flinched the moment that question left his lips. You don't ask an abused person why they don't leave an abusive relationship. It wasn't that simple. It was never that simple. "Sorry. That was dumb."

Surprisingly, she offered him a little smile. "No, it's a fair question, considering the me you know now. I don't seem like the type who'd put up with that, do I?" He shook his head. "Yeah. I was a different person then. Young and scared and alone. Mark controlled all the money. I had no family, no friends, and he had all his buddies keep tabs on me while I was at work. I once chatted with some older guy as I rang up his groceries, and Mark damn near broke my arm over it two minutes after I walked in the door that evening. He knew everything I did. It was like living in a glass cage."

She looked down at her bottle, swirling the liquid inside. That dark look had faded, but what replaced it was more sad.

"Then I got pregnant. Nine months later I was the mother of a beautiful, perfect little boy."

The love and pride Wade saw on her face made him smile. That little boy was the one bright spot in a life that had kept her trapped and miserable, and seeing the joy it brought her just thinking of her son made Wade's heart clench. "What was his name?"

She looked up, a smile on her lips and tears in her eyes. "Liam. It means 'strong-willed warrior'. I wanted my boy to be strong and brave. I wanted him to be happy, and know he was so, so loved. Because he was. He was my world. He was kind, and sweet, and loving, and his smile could make even my worst day feel like I'd won the lottery."

She paused, and her eyes were far away. "I would have gladly taken a thousand beatings if it meant keeping him safe."

Wade was sure she meant it. Judging by how she'd put herself in harm's way to protect Silver—a boy she'd only known for less than 2 days—it wasn't surprising she would sacrifice her own safety for that of a child. Especially her own.

"How did Mark react to Liam?"

Callie uttered a sigh as she took another drink. "At first he was all proud. He had his son to carry on his name, and he played up the proud papa act for a while. But that wore off quickly when Liam wasn't just this cute little accessory Mark could cart around for attention. Liam was colicky for a while, cried a lot. That pissed Mark off. But he couldn't take it out on the baby, 'I'm not a monster', he'd say, right before he backhanded me."

"Holy crap," Wade breathed, flinching. The more he heard, the less he wanted to hear.

"That's how it went for years. I shielded Liam from all this. But he knew. He heard his father. He saw my injuries. He learned to play quietly when Mark was home. It killed me that as hard as I tried to keep him safe and keep the bad stuff hidden from him, he still knew."

She emptied her bottle, her thumb picking at the label.

"When he was six, I tried to get us out of there. I couldn't stand him spending another six years in that hell we called a life. I had been planning it for almost a year. Squirreling away money, getting some clothes packed and ready. Mark was supposed to be gone for the day, and we were just about to walk out the door when he came home."

Wade's stomach dropped, his chest tight. He'd seen enough news stories to guess how this ended. Men like Mark didn't like it when their personal punching bags tried to leave.

"He was furious. More angry than I'd ever seen him, and that's saying something. Started screaming at me 'Where do you think you're going? I'm gonna break your damn jaw!' blah blah blah. Just screaming at me, getting in my face, big broad gestures to make me flinch. Oh, he loved to make me flinch. I pushed Liam behind me and that set him off worse. 'You're not taking my kid anywhere! I'll kill you both first!'"

She paused, her brow furrowing, before looking up at Wade. A little smile curled her lips and she uttered a soft, bitter laugh.

"I think that's the first time I ever got angry at him."

Wade swallowed. "What happened?"

"I shoved him. Hard. I stood tall, squared my shoulders and just screamed at him. I don't remember what I said, honestly I felt like it was almost an out of body experience, and just laid into him. He threatened my boy, and I aimed to put the fear of God into him for that."

A smile spread on Wade's face, and he felt a kind of second hand pride for her. "Did it work?"

Her smile faltered. "Yes and no. He was really shocked that I reacted like that, but then he recovered and belted me in the mouth. Just full strength punch. I saw stars and went down, blood pouring down my chin. He came closer, hauling his foot back to give me a good kick, when Liam jumped in front of me."

Wade's face paled. "Oh no."

She went quiet, her eyes far away. "Mark was already in the swing of the kick. He wore heavy steel-toed boots for work, and it caught Liam in the temple. Liam . . ." She swallowed hard, eyes shiny. "A neighbor heard me screaming and called the police. Mark ran, but they arrested him two days later. But my boy . . . my Liam . . . he was gone."

The silence that fell this time was thick and heavy. Callie turned her head, looking out over the backyard, her lips pulled tight. She swallowed, and wiped away the first tears.

"I'm so sorry," Wade said, his voice soft. He crawled forward and offered her the rest of his drink. She accepted with a little smile, taking a swig as he returned to his seated position.

"I was supposed to protect him, but he died trying to protect me." She took another drink, shaking her head with a bitter laugh. "That little boy was braver than I ever was."

He wanted to ask. But maybe he shouldn't. But he had to know.

"What happened to Mark?"

She wiped her cheeks. "He got twenty years. Involuntary manslaughter, they called it, with a sprinkle of child endangerment. Oh, it was the talk of the town for months. I got some sympathy, but not much. Mostly I heard how I failed as a mother to protect my baby. That maybe if I were a better wife Mark wouldn't have gotten so angry. Rumors spread that I'd been sleeping around behind his back, that Liam wasn't really his, that I was running off with some guy or another when Mark caught me. There was a new rumor every day, it seemed."

Wade gaped at her. "That's terrible!"

She shrugged, taking another drink. "Mark's father owned one of the biggest manufacturing plants in the country, and employed most of the people in town. To say he was high on his own power would have been an understatement. Mark was an asshole, but daddy made sure the rest of the town kept their mouths shut about him. I'm honestly surprised he served any time at all."

"God, that's even worse."

"The town needed someone to talk about, and if they couldn't drag Mark's name through the mud, I was the next best thing. His family took out big ol' editorial pages in the newspaper just cutting me to ribbons, claiming I was the one with the temper, and poor little Mark was framed, and I was just after his money, blah blah blah." She sighed. "I was still armpit deep in grief for my boy, and hearing all that crap?" She shook her head. "I couldn't stand it. I sold everything, changed my name, and moved across the country to start fresh. One thing led to another, I hopped around for a long time, and now I'm here."

He blinked. "Wait. Callie's not your real name?"

A little smirk lifted one corner of her mouth. "It is now. But it's not the name I was born with, no. I picked it because it was the name of a character in one of Liam's favorite books. And as for MacPherson, well, I loved the Baby Blues comic strip and borrowed their last name."

A look of shock passed over Wade's face. "I knew your last name seemed familiar!"

She snickered, finishing off the bottle. "My secret's out."

That made Wade laugh a little, too, but he quickly quieted when the full weight of everything she'd been through settled on him. Her secret really was out, at least to him. So much pain. So much trauma. So much hurt and grief and guilt. It was a wonder she was as functional as she was.

"I'm so sorry about everything you went through," he said, scooting closer. "You didn't deserve any of that."

Callie stared at him for a moment, before turning away and shrugging. "Others had it worse."

"Doesn't mean what you went through was okay."

She shrugged again, picking at the label on the bottle in her hands. "It was a long time ago. Can't change the past."

Wade saw her point, but thought it sad that she seemed so resigned in regards to what she went through. But he supposed it may have been a coping mechanism. Lord knows he had his own.

"Now I see why you were so insistent that you weren't keeping Silver."

She sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to rest it against the post. "And that was before I knew he was being hunted by some sadistic platypus."

"Maybe you should ask Maddie for tips on dealing with a kid with an arch nemesis."

A smile curled her lips. "Maybe I should."

Silence descended over them again, and they listened to the nightlife of Green Hills. Crickets chirped, and owls hooted in the distance. Callie sat quietly with her head leaning against the post, and Wade watched her, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

So much. She'd been carrying so much on her shoulders, in her heart, for all these years. All alone. It made Wade's heart hurt just thinking about it. No one to lean on, no one to turn to when it got too heavy. She'd been horribly hurt by a man who should have loved her, had lost the single person she loved most, and been attacked when she was at her lowest point, before leaving everything behind to start a new life.

"I'm sure it goes without saying," she started, her eyes still closed. Wade jumped slightly at the sudden break in silence. "But don't tell anyone else what I just told you. That's a part of my life I'd really like to keep buried."

He nodded, crossing his chest with a big X. "Promise."

She gave a little hum in response, and the silence returned. He watched her for a moment, and was struck with how different she seemed now. His initial impression of her had been that she was calm and smart and kind. Always in control. Always knew just what to do.

And she was. Usually.

But now, he caught a glimpse of what was beneath that. Of the anxiety. Of the hurt. Of the fear and the uncertainty. She'd lived through something horrible, something that should have broken her. And maybe it did. But she was still pushing through. Still standing. Still doing what was right to care for and protect another little boy who needed her help. That couldn't have been easy.

After another moment, she opened her eyes and looked over at him. "It's getting late. You should probably head home."

Wade uttered a soft sigh. After everything that had happened tonight, the thought of going home and dealing with his mother's twenty questions about where he'd been and why he was so late didn't appeal. She never went to bed until he came home, and then she would complain about how tired she was. He'd feel guilty about it, but he'd be lying if he didn't acknowledge that a small part of him was bitter when she did it.

Sometimes it felt as though he was a Functional Adult all day, but the moment he stepped into the house she made him feel like a naughty child caught after curfew.

He hated it. But he couldn't see any way to change it.

Or maybe he was too afraid to.

"Yeah, I guess so." He pushed himself to stand, wincing a little as his sore side protested. Callie moved to do the same, and he stepped closer to give her a hand up. "Are you gonna be okay?"

The bottles clinked in her hand, and she looked off to the side, toward the remains of Starline's drone. "I'll be fine." Her voice was quiet. Tired. She turned to look back at him. "I always am."

He didn't think that was true. She didn't look fine right now. She looked . . . drained. But she was trying to put on a brave face.

Without realizing he was moving, Wade reached forward and pulled her in for a tight hug. She stiffened in his arms, and he moved to speak gently in her ear.

"It's okay to not be fine. It's okay to ask for help."

~X~X~X~

His breath in her ear made her shiver.

The words he spoke, and the soft tone in which he said them, made her heart pound like a jackhammer. The little girl inside her, the one that had been screaming for help, begging for understanding and acceptance all those years ago, wanted to keep him close. Wanted to believe that he was nice and kind and would help her no matter what.

Because she missed having a friend. She missed feeling wanted. She missed having someone she could talk to, someone she could ask for help and lean on when she was tired, or scared, or sad. She hadn't had that for such a long, long time. Not since her mother died. Not since she was so young.

But she wasn't that little girl anymore. That little girl had a different name, a different life. She had let her heart lead her straight into Mark's fists, and none of her so-called friends did a thing to help her. They stood by as he separated her from them. They watched as she came to work with too much concealer beneath her eyes. They nodded when she told them how clumsy she was, she tripped and fell face-first into the side table, oh my gosh, what a klutz!

They knew. They knew. And they did nothing to help.

And one by one, they walked away.

In the end, she had only herself to rely on. Only herself to trust.

That girl died when Liam did. She was Callie now, a woman who'd been shaped by her experiences, by her trauma (whether she wanted to use that word to describe it or not). A woman who protected herself by keeping her heart hidden. Keeping herself separate.

That was the only way she could stay safe.

Callie hadn't been hugged by another human in a very long time, and the feel of his arms around her was simultaneously familiar and alien. Even after the hugs she and Silver had shared, this one seemed so very different.

She didn't know how to react. Wade was likely only trying to show her comfort, not any type of romantic affection, but it still make her skin crawl slightly that he was so close. She felt vulnerable, defenseless. He could do anything this close to her and she wouldn't be able to stop him. Bite her, bring his knee up into her stomach, shove her backwards into the railing—

Stop it. He's not Mark. Wade wouldn't hurt you. Just stop it.

She swallowed hard, bringing a hand up to awkwardly pat him on the back.

"Thanks for sticking around, Wade." Her voice was quiet, and a little shaky. She just couldn't figure out what to say in this situation, and honestly, the longer he was this close to her, the more uncomfortable she became. "I really appreciate your help. Through all of this."

He seemed to register her discomfort, because he drew back quickly, a blush working its way up his neck. "Sorry. I didn't mean to . . ." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. "Don't mention it. About me helping, I mean. I was glad to."

They stood awkwardly for a moment, the vulnerable aura around them still heavy. It seemed rude to just kick him out, so to speak, but honestly, there wasn't much left to do. Callie cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind an ear.

"So . . . I'll let you go, then."

Wade nodded, walking backwards toward the deck steps. "Right. Right. Okay. I'll check in with you tomorrow, if that's okay? Just to see how Silver's doing, I mean. Because you're fine. Right?"

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. "Right. I'm fine."

He nodded again. "Right. Okay." His foot found the edge of the first deck step, and he nearly toppled backwards. She reached for him out of reflex, but he managed to catch himself before falling. He uttered an embarrassed chuckle. "Close one."

She gave him a little smile as he walked back toward his truck, and he stopped to turn and look back at her. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. Lifting a hand, he gave her a little wave before sliding in and starting the engine.

~X~X~X~

Wade's stomach churned as he drove home. Callie's story looped in his head. The pain. The suffering. It was so hard to think of her dealing with such abuse as a kid barely out of high school.

He chewed his thumbnail as he pulled into his driveway. That would explain why she never accepted any of the invitations Tom and Maddie extended her. She was keeping her distance. Trust was likely hard for her to build, as she had trusted Mark, and he had done awful things because of it. Just based on the way she spoke about it showed that she thought herself stupid for landing in that situation in the first place, and now she was over-compensating by keeping herself isolated.

You can't get hurt if you don't let anyone in.

Wade threw the truck into park and killed the engine. He listened to the ticking as it cooled, staring into the window of his home.

Correction. His mother's home.

The kitchen light was on.

With a sigh, Wade sat back in his seat, tilting his head back against the rest. He didn't want to deal with her interrogation tonight. He was too tired, and his heart too heavy. Some of the things Callie had said had reminded him of dealing with his father, and he felt his own demons stirring.

Charles Whipple was a man who did not suffer fools. Even if one of those fools was his own son.

Wade closed his eyes. That familiar tightening was happening in his chest, and he took deep breaths to loosen it. He didn't want to think about that. Not tonight.

After a few moments, the knot in his chest loosened, and Wade let out a long sigh. He couldn't very well stay in the truck all night. With another deep breath for strength, he stepped out, crossed the yard, and walked into the house.

His mother was there before the front door closed.

"Wade Christopher Whipple, where have you been?"

He flinched at his full name. Suddenly he was 10 years old again, come in too late for supper.

"I was working, Mom. I'm acting sheriff this weekend, remember? Something . . . something came up and I had to take care of it."

Barbara Whipple clicked her tongue, wrapping her robe tighter around herself. "Your shift ended hours ago! Why not let someone else handle it? I've been worried sick!"

"It was something I had to take care of myself. It was important."

Another 'tsk. "I doubt that."

Wade bit his tongue.

"Well, nevermind all that. Are you hungry? I'll fix you something if you need."

He let out a sigh. "Nah, I'm pretty beat. I'm just gonna get a shower and then go to bed."

Silence fell over them, and his mother looked him up and down. She wore that look she usually had when she was trying to determine if he was lying to her. He stayed still, trying to keep his face neutral.

After a long moment, she tutted, shaking her head.

"You'll waste away if you don't eat something," she said, turning to wander back into the kitchen. "But what do I know? I'm just your mother. Staying up all hours of the night to wait for you. Worrying sick."

Wade closed his eyes, uttering a soft sigh. He refused to buy tickets for this guilt trip. He had no energy for it tonight.

"Good night, Mom," he called as he headed upstairs. "I'll have a big breakfast, promise."

He took the stairs two at a time, practically running into the bathroom to sever this conversation, and take a long, hot shower.

~X~X~X~

Callie stood on her deck for a while after Wade had left. She stared at the broken drone, hearing Starline's words echoing in her mind.

He wasn't going to stop. Men like him never did. He feels he's entitled to Silver, like he owns the boy. He'll be back. Likely with a bigger show of strength.

She can't protect him. She couldn't protect her own son, why would she think she could protect this hedgehog? It would only be a matter of time before Starline succeeded in capturing him. But how much damage would he inflict before that? How much damage would Silver cause? Would Callie lose her whole house instead of just the windows?

This was not something she was expecting when she found Silver in her yard yesterday morning.

Uttering a soft sigh, the librarian turned and headed back into her broken house. Her shoes crunched over the glass shards littering the ground as she stepped through the shattered kitchen door. She'd just turned to throw the lock on the door when she stopped herself.

"Yeah, make sure you lock the completely useless door, Cal," she muttered to herself, before uttering a breathy chuckle.

God she was tired.

She walked across her kitchen, stopping at the base of the stairs to remove her shoes. If there were any glass shards in the soles, she didn't want to track them all over the house.

Slowly, she dragged herself upstairs. She was starting to stiffen up, the adrenaline long since faded, every muscle aching and bruised. Opening the door to her room, she kept her foot sideways in case one of the cats attempted a daring escape, and sent a tiny prayer up when neither did. She slipped inside, closed the door, and took a minute to take in the scene on the bed.

Silver was still asleep, curled up slightly near the pillows. His shoes were by the door—she'd taken them off when they'd brought him up earlier—and his little toes curled as he dreamed. The cats snuggled next to him, their purrs loud enough for her to hear from where she stood.

He looked so little.

He was just a kid, not much older than Liam. An alien, yeah. With powers, sure. But a kid nonetheless. He didn't deserve to deal with this mess. To have some egocentric platypus use him for whatever horrible experiments and selfish desires he had.

Silver deserved better.

He deserved to feel safe. To breathe fresh air, to have a full belly, to watch TV and laugh and think of nothing but whatever fun thing he wanted to do and what snacks he could snitch from the kitchen.

Not running for his life. Not wondering when his next meal would be. Not afraid of kindness.

He needed to be protected. Kept safe from the monster looming over him.

The vault stirred, and Callie slapped a hand over her mouth as a sob tried to push its way free. She took a few deep breaths, clamping her eyes shut, forcing that door closed again.

No. That was a long time ago. Stop it. Get a grip. Crying won't bring him back, it won't make anything better, just stop it, damnit.

Slowly, she got herself back under control. Her emotions settled, and the weariness returned.

Callie crossed the room, gently sliding into bed, and carefully pulling Silver to her. He whimpered softly, rolling to face her in his sleep. She pulled the blankets up to cover them, and the cats shifted to more comfortable positions before settling back down once more.

She watched him for a long time. Gently dragged a knuckle across his muzzle.

Sleep finally dragged her down.

She dreamt of Liam.