Sometimes I think about fixing every single typo ever, including in my older fics. Then I think about how much time and effort that would take...0_o
Timmy sulked with crossed arms in the single grey jail cell locked by magic, stationed within aquamarine grass near the violet crater towards the west. Isolated far enough east of the other godchildren yet close under the Fairy Council's eye just north of him. Timmy held narrowed brows of a contemptuous gaze towards the robed figures gathered in a semi-circle; he could blast holes between their eyes with his stare alone.
Essentially, he'd been put in timeout for his horrible attitude and even more atrocious behavior. The Council had also instructed the other godchildren to keep their distance and forbade them from approaching him under any circumstances. In their exact words, Timmy must 'sit and mull his actions.'
The Fairy Council were conversing amongst themselves, still within earshot of the other children. They had left their magical companions to watch over the children while they regrouped from the operation that, so far, had blown up in their faces.
"We could simply erase their memories of this whole ordeal." Treebelle proposed.
"Then we would also need to erase Timmy and Gary's knowledge of losing their godparents." Plumfrost remarked.
"That would not absolve the probability of learning the same truth in the future." Persimmons expressed.
"True," Treebelle considered. "but they would likely have the emotional intelligence to handle it by then."
"Or their hearts would just break more…" Persimmons pointed out. "These children regard their godparents as family at the age they are now. Losing them when they are older would be akin to losing a blood relative that they care deeply for."
"Precisely why godparents are advised not to grow too attached." Plumfrost reminded. "An extended stay is never guaranteed, and forming tightknit bonds misleads vulnerable children."
"In this case, can we fault the godparents?" Persimmons challenged thoughtfully. "For the majority, their godparents are the first to ever love and care for them. I can see how difficult it would be to not grow attached."
"…like Denzel Crocker."
The other Councilmembers looked to the Head Councilor when he'd spoken, and Treebelle had to question "What does Denzel Crocker have to do with this?"
"The memory wiper is powerful enough to delete conscious memories, yet it has never had the capability to fully erase memories deep within the subconscious." Birchwind elaborated. "Jorgen had figured out that flaw and had used it to his advantage when he breached the rules to bring Denzel Crocker back to life."
"I still do not understand Jorgen's motives." Treebelle commented. "Denzel Crocker said from his own mouth that he was happy and no longer needed his fairies."
Birchwind rested his chin on his hand. "You are not wrong; however, if you take time to consider, was Denzel truly happy after losing Cosmo and Wanda?"
"I did not know we were keeping that close of tabs." Plumfrost remarked, glancing sideways. "Once godchildren lose their fairies, that should be the end of it."
"It was the end of it." Birchwind affirmed "…until Denzel's situation proved what can happen when children lose their godparents when they still need them."
"They become fairy obsessed adults?" Treebelle quizzed.
"No, they become adults in constant search to fill the bottomless void of their childhood." Birchwind knitted his brow, drifting his gaze to his right. "And if that void were to become too great to bear..."
The other Councilmembers turned their gazes in the same direction towards the jail cell, noting Timmy diverting vigilant eyes the moment he noticed their attention fixed on him. Although close enough to see the scorn in his stare, luckily, Timmy was not within earshot of the Council's conversation. Oddly enough, they'd come to notice the similarities in Timmy's situation versus his 5th grade teacher, and not just because they were assigned the same godparents thirty years apart.
The elderly mother jolted awake from the knocks behind the hospital door, yanked from blinding blackness back to the emerald walls and cyan tiles of the ICU. Gathering her bearings, Dolores winced from the stiff crook in her lower back as she stretched in her rchair. Glancing to her son still motionless beneath the sheets, prodded with multiple IVs and hooked to various life-saving monitors.
She squinted to the slither of sunlight shimmering through the lone window, realizing she must've fallen asleep. Last she remembered was her eyes stinging so much from constant watch over Denzel that she'd laid her head on folded arms over his bed to rest them. She assumed that the knock must've been from one of the first-shift nurses making their rounds, but when another series of knocks came with no immediate entry, she willed her weak legs to her feet in her curious strides towards the door.
Turning the door handle, Dolores saw legs first before she rose her head to the thin waist and alluring curves of a woman around Denzel's age but fairly younger. Silky strings of smokey-black hair framed the roundness of her youthful features, and her eyes of an almond outline were the softest brown infused with green.
Sheer black stockings covered the miles of legs beneath the above-knee hem of her high waisted skirt of black rayon, Steve Madden loafers footing her feet in black leather. Layers of flounce ruffles lined the buttons of her white chiffon blouse, cuffing the balloon of her long sleeves. A silver chain hung from the high jabot collar, dangling in the center of her ample bosom where a French Script 'K' was framed in a sterling heart.
Not recognizing this woman as any woman she'd ever wanted Denzel to meet, Dolores creased her brow. "Who are you?"
Dark-blue eyes rimmed in rounded specs peeked from behind the tall woman's leg. A little boy that, to Dolores, looked eerily similar to her son.
"Hello, ma'am." the woman smiled, her mezzo soprano slightly raspy. "My name is Katherine Crocker."
"Crocker…" Dolores repeated thoughtfully, then scrunched her nose in realization "…so you're…?"
"Devin Crocker's daughter." Katherine confirmed, braced for an exchange that she had anticipated to be less than cordial once she revealed who she was.
Just at the sight of the spawn from her ex-husband's marital affair, the single mother's fingers curled tightly around the edge of the hospital door. Dolores's week was terrible enough; she didn't need more poop piled on.
"I'm here because I thought it was time that Denzel met his half-nephew." Katherine smiled down to the cowering boy behind her leg. "Kevin, would you like to say 'hello?'"
Timid eyes found the courage to peek again, clinging to his mother's calf as he weakly piped "…hi."
Dolores mutely sneered, unsure how to feel about the boy before her gaze of distaste traveled down and back up his mother in a slow, deliberate manner. "What's the likes of you doing here?"
"I had stopped by your house earlier, but a neighbor had told me to look for you and Denzel here." Katherine admitted. She then glanced past the shorter woman to the lifeless body provided breath by a ventilator. "Though, I was more so expecting Denzel to be by your bedside-"
"Does my ex know you're here?" Dolores interrupted, her tone laced with disgust.
Kevin cringed, tightening his grip as Katherine let her smile fade. She'd expected this question, yet it had not gotten any easier to answer "…dad passed away two years ago."
Dolores huffed, conjuring not an ounce of sympathy. She hoped that bastard burned for all eternity.
"Listen…" Katherine spoke civilly, gently stroking the short black hairs atop Kevin's head. "I'm here because I wanted Kevin to meet someone else with his condition. Someone who looks like him."
"What condition?" Dolores quizzed skeptically.
Kevin glanced up to his mother who then asked "…Hartman's Syndrome?"
Dolores stalled, unblinking. Wheels turning in her head of how a child completely unrelated to her had a physical deformity that, to her knowledge, had been passed solely through her Bitterroot lineage. As Dolores studied Kevin more closely, he did seem to fit the description. Hunched back, pale skin, ears on his neck, poor vision, scraggly limbs…
Not sure about the teeth; he hadn't opened his mouth wide enough to confirm.
"That's impossible." Dolores bluntly stated, looking back at Katherine. "Hartman's Syndrome is hereditary."
"Yes, but Hartman's Syndrome is primarily genetic." Katherine corrected, remaining patient. "Meaning it can manifest randomly in the womb as long as one parent has the gene."
Dolores sneered. "Doubt it."
"Every physician and pediatrician Kevin has ever gone to has confirmed this." Katherine clarified.
"Then why is it that every physician and pediatrician Denzel had gone to never mentioned this before?" Dolores challenged.
"With all due respect, that was the sixties and seventies. Medical research has come a long way since then."
Dolores gave a short glance back to Kevin, watching him muster the courage once again to peek his head out further. Looking at this carbon copy of Denzel rattled and scrambled everything she'd ever known…about her son, about herself. Had she been lied to her whole life?
"I know my son and I are not welcomed." Katherine worried that Dolores's silence was a sign that she'd overstepped in some way. "We did show up unannounced, and I apologize for that."
For a moment, Dolores stood quietly, lowering her softened gaze. Katherine reached her arm to her son, holding him against her. From one single mother to another, her heart ached for Dolores. Worried sick over your son as he fought for his life, knowing there was absolutely nothing you can do within your power but leave it up to chance…she would not wish this tragic situation on her worst enemy.
"And I'm so sorry, Dolores." her sympathy apologized. "I can only imagine what you're going through."
Dolores stiffened, creasing her glare that snapped from the floor. "I don't want your pity."
"At least consider letting me bring Kevin back…" Katherine suggested, willing to work with Dolores "…perhaps when Denzel's better."
Dolores groaned in her throat before she wrinkled her brow, turning her gaze away as despair began to glisten. "Denzel's been asleep for so long…I don't even know if he'll ever wakeup…"
As she fought back her tears, she sniffed when she felt the bashful warmth of a small hand latch onto the ice in her fingers. Her eyes flashed to thinly folded lips before she tilted her head further to meet the dark-blue eyes that struggled to meet hers. Kevin seemed quite young based on his mannerisms, though, she shouldn't have been surprised by his height; his mother's legs could be mistaken for a gazelle.
Looking back to his mother who offered a small smile of praise for his bravery, Kevin returned to stare at Dolores's thoughtful gaze. Kevin was the last source of comfort she'd ever ask for, yet she didn't push him away. She couldn't push him away, fraught in reconsideration.
God, did he look so much like her Denzel…it tore her heart apart and stitched it back together all at once.
Along the grass near a thin artic azure stream, Bella burrowed next to the glasses of the boy lolled on his side, keeping watch over his hibernate recovery. When Birchwind magically intervened in Gary and Timmy's physical squabble, it had not been long before the intensity of the situation triggered a grand mal. Amidst the madness, Bella had managed to alleviate Chloe's panic attack in time to fly back to Dwight and subdue the seizure before he choked on his own blood.
In addition to stopping his spasms, she had to heal the multiple bites on his tongue that'd been soaked red. That had been the first seizure that Tootie and Remy ever witnessed, and while Remy was uncertain of what to comprehend from it, Tootie nearly hyperventilated, scared that Dwight was dying. They had also never witnessed Chloe's panic attack nor Gary's dissociation, so the Council were left to explain Dwight's neurological disorder as well as Chloe's and Gary's disorders of anxiety and post-traumatic stress.
Seated with one arm over a bent knee, Molly watched the platinum blonde rock back and forth ever so slightly with knees bunched to her chest. Aware of Dwight and Gary's conditions, Molly was not too surprised to learn Chloe's situation. Not only had she given off those 'worrywart' vibes, but that seemed like a decent enough reason to be granted a fairy godparent. After seeing Gary struggle with his own anxiety, she could imagine how not fun it is to suffer from your brain spiraling into panic mode outside of your control.
Molly shifted her attention to the raven-haired girl curled on her knees. Tootie sniffed as her arms wiped quiet tears with Plum roosted loyally by her thigh, having made herself available for Tootie to use as a source of comfort when needed.
Because it had yet to be fully revealed, Tootie's reasonings for having a fairy godparent were still a bit of a mystery, so Molly was left to deductive reasoning. When Molly had met Dwight, Gary, and Hazel at Fairy Fort one day, since it'd been hours after the fact, Dwight had mentioned a religious couple and their daughter knocking on his door. They were trying to preach something about 'God's promise,' and now that it was confirmed that the daughter was Tootie, having a godparent must have something to do with extreme religion. She'd looked really uncomfortable just at the mention of her dad. That, and it took Plum literally digging black shit from her brain just for her to speak.
Then you have her clothes that could pass for an extra in Sister Act 2…
Bent in a ball against Molly's chest, Hazel cradled Simmons in her arms as his tender tongue licked at the tears drying in her cheeks. Wilted brown eyes stared off, mind frazzled and emotions beyond exhausted. Her sinus throbbed to the point that producing just a trickle of a tear would only induce more pain than she wanted to deal with. Even if she wanted to cry, she didn't think she could anymore. She took a glance at the boy between Dwight and Tootie, staring at Remy who'd buried his face into hugged knees. There could not have been a darker cloud looming over his head, and his aura could not feel any colder.
Based on the despicable things she had seen Fenwick impose onto Anthony firsthand, and based on his indignancy to what had become of Fenwick, she had ascertained Remy's reasonings for warning her of Fenwick without the need for him to elaborate. To think that his parents had allowed that monster around their only son. Not only that, but they took the duration of Remy's life to fire said monster.
Hazel couldn't help but wonder; was the plane crash karma…or justice? Or karmic justice?
Though out of her nature, she could not bring herself to find the good in parents like the Buxaplentys. Still, she had only lost her brother, and that was on his own accord. She could not imagine the crack to the spirit of losing both parents to a tragic accident. She could not imagine the distress of losing the only family known to him. Then to learn that his true family, his godfather, would disappear one day and he would forget all about him…
How alone he must feel.
Hazel used the gentlest of palms to shove Simmons' tongue away from her cheek. Now that Molly was here, she figured she had enough emotional support. Besides, it's rude not to share. "Simmons," she spoke hoarsely, pointing to the brooding boy across from her. "Go be with Remy…"
Given the okay that he'd been waiting for, the red ferret leaped out of Hazel's arms, scurrying over to the other child in need. Sitting on patient paws as he waited for Remy to eventually lift dark eyes from his knees. Sunken and hollow, Remy stared in the direction of a wagging tail and beady blue-violets beaming in Simmons' own friendly greeting. Instead of Remy welcoming his new visitor, his eyes rolled as he turned his head away. Why didn't that stupid ferret just stay with Hazel? He's better off with her anyway…
Since he rarely adhered to rejection, Simmons proceeded to jump headfirst into the tiniest gap between Remy's thighs and his torso, squiggling and squirming his way through. This caused Remy to unlatch his arms and unbend his knees as Simmons wedged himself into Remy's lap, reaching to press his front paws to the chest of Remy's tux. Beady orbs stared into broadened eyes that blinked slowly before Simmons shifted to lower his chin to Remy's right shoulder.
Remy flinched as Simmons calmed and settled, pressing his slinky body as if to become one with him. As if his comfort could melt the hardened surface and chip away the dark cast around the boy's heart. As much as Remy tried to remold the outer shell around his vulnerability, the way his eyes dropped gave away the insufferable pain he otherwise masterfully hid. Tears pooled in his eyes, and his arms moved on their own. Lacing themselves around Simmons' fur that felt so warm and soothing, a soothing warmth that he wanted to deny himself of but couldn't.
Holding Hazel against her with one arm, the other arm palmed her glum chin as Molly watched Remy squeeze his eyes, tears slipping from their edges with a trembling chin. Guess even he had a breaking point…
Tabling that thought to mull over later, Molly redirected her gaze to Gary's deflated cheek flattened against yellow fur as Birchie sat content with draped paws. His top half slumped with loose arms draped over Birchie's back as Birchie applied gentle pressure across his lap. She could see darkened shadows under the blue eyes that pulled closed at separate times, fighting to stay alert. Part of her wanted to say it aloud, yet part of her had no energy to cause another unnerving scene for the other kids…
Honestly, fuck Gary's bitch ass cousin…
…yeah, she definitely couldn't say that out loud. Or shouldn't, rather…
"You should get some rest, Gary…" she chose to say instead, surprised to have gotten his attention when dazed eyes met her muted gaze. "You look exhausted…"
That he was. He blinked sluggishly, almost not able to open them again. Despite this, he couldn't let himself drift off. Not when he didn't deserve to.
"…I'm sorry…" he murmured, barely audible for everyone cognizant enough to hear "…this…is all my fault…"
"…why is it your fault?" Chloe croaked, her throat parched.
Gary raised his heavy head so that his chin nestled into Birchie's fur instead of his cheek "…cuz I'm the one who told him the truth…"
Wiping endless wetness from her eyes, Tootie readjusted her glasses to look across towards Gary, squeaking "…why would you do that?"
The corners of Gary's mouth pinched. He knew she was just asking without much fault, and yet a pang of guilt struck his gut. "…somethin' about him wanting Cosmo and Wanda as his real parents…" his brows furrowed tightly "…at least…from what I can remember…"
"…how come you knew and we didn't?" Hazel asked quietly, mostly referring to their original friend group.
Gary sighed "…he didn't know I was there…but I overheard Alondro on the phone one day…" his finger traced lazy circles along Birchie's fur, keeping his hands busy "…he sounded upset…complaining about Da Rules…hating that godparents still have to leave…even if kids still need them…"
"Why's this the first we're hearing about this?" Molly probed lightly.
"…well, you saw how Timmy took it…" Gary grumbled. He should've known…dammit, why did he ever say anything?
"So, wait…" Chloe unhugged her knees, wringing her hands as she furrowed towards Hazel and Molly "…if you guys really didn't know, then…why form a suicide pact?"
As Hazel stiffened at the question, Molly kept herself composed, flattening her sullen brow towards the platinum blonde.
"…it's not all on them…" Gary held himself accountable "…that was all my idea…"
"But there still must've been some reason for them all to agree to it." Chloe debated, her heart in her throat. Now probably wasn't a great time to bring this up, but she couldn't understand what would make a bunch of kids want to end their lives.
"Gee, I dunno, maybe open your eyes and take a look around? We all have godparents and yet life still sucks." there was a trace of cynicism in Molly's reply, as if the answer should not be this difficult to figure out. "It sucks so much that the Fairy freaking Council had to step in. You think we'd all be in this mess if none of us felt like we were better off dead?"
When his glossy eyes lifted from his shoes, Remy fixed his stare towards Molly, absently tightening his hold around Simmons who didn't appear to mind.
"But…" Tootie peeped, drawing everyone's eyes on her. Plum looked up at her as her nerves wadded antsy fists over her lap "…b-but I don't feel that way…"
"Neither do I!" Chloe blurted out beside Tootie.
Molly scoffed. "Then you're both lying to yourselves."
"How do you know?" Chloe challenged, her tight voice cracking.
"Do you feel like a burden?"
Chloe caught her breath in a sharp pause, neck corded with tension. But while Tootie chewed on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, Chloe scrunched her brow, bunching her chin. "E-Even if all of us feel like that…not everyone views death as the only solution!"
"…I do."
The spotlight switched to the first peep Remy had made in forever. Though his voice was dull and distant, Chloe frowned when she could see the glassiness in his eyes. "Remy…"
"…I have for a while." His tears flowed freely, a river of sorrow carving trails down his cheeks. Simmons licked at his sadness, and his apathy couldn't care to push Simmons away…couldn't care to conceal. "And now that I know Juan can't stay…" shadows formed beneath bleak eyes "…I don't see the point in why I should stay."
Tootie's hands cupped over her nose and mouth, hiding her brief sob. Plum watched purple eyes clamp shut behind her glasses as she slouched, the weight of despair settling upon her like an unyielding boulder. She knew he was suffering, yet she had no idea that Remy felt that despondent, and it pained her so to now know that he did. No kid should ever feel that way. Not Remy, not Timmy…not anyone.
More intrigued than empathetic, Molly tilted her head. Never would she'd guessed that kids from two entirely different worlds would ever have that in common. "But you have money at your disposal." she addressed Remy directly, composed in her tone. "What is it that makes you that miserable to wanna off yourself?"
Watery eyes narrowed derisively. The weighted abyss in Remy's spirit couldn't care to entertain whatever vendetta Molly had against him. "I'm not doing this with you again…"
"I swear I'm not startin' nothin', dude; I'm genuinely asking." Molly emphasized, no hint of malice in her words. She, too, had no energy to pick a senseless fight. "What makes a rich kid wanna die?"
Picking her nails, Hazel's downward gaze scrunched, austere in her tone. "The same thing that made me wanna die…"
Molly pursed conflicted lips. The Wells filed taxes in a bracket that was not too far off from the richest family in Dimmsdale; however, Hazel was no Remy. Just her skin and gender attracted the unwanted microaggressions that his does not…
"Um…" Chloe tugged awkwardly at platinum blonde locks, licking dry lips "…do we have to talk about this?"
Molly turned with an arched brow "…weren't you the one who brought it up?"
"I-I mean, I-I-I guess, but…" Chloe grew tense to the point of shaking "…i-it's still just…y'know…morbid."
A low hoot disrupted the conversation, perhaps Chloe's saving grace. Turning to ruffling indigo feathers as Dwight uttered a groggy moan, pushing to sit himself up. His hand searched for the glasses that Bella retrieved with her beak, dropping them on his immobile fingers so that his searching hand knew where to grab them. Loosely tinkering his glasses to his face, worn eyes fluttered to dissipate the clouded fog. When his vision cleared, he met the teal saucers of gratified eyes as another low hoot welcomed him back.
His chin dropped as the corner of his lips pulled down. He would have made an effort to turn his frown upside down had his heart not weigh so heavy in his chest…
"…hey, you…" Gary droned wearily, teetering on the verge of succumbing to the weight of exhaustion entirely. He couldn't, though. He didn't deserve to "…feel better…?"
Dwight clenched his somber jaw. Fraught with embarrassment, he couldn't look anyone in the eye, not even Bella. He could feel all eyes on him, and he hated it.
"…Dwight?" Chloe softly called, and Dwight hunched his shoulders, speaking just above a whisper.
"…I'm sorry…"
Chloe shuddered, brows tipped up. "For what?"
Dwight grimaced; the self-disghust in his gaze was palpable "…for having a fit…"
If his grumble didn't expose the bruising singe to his spirit, the contemptuous burn in his downcast gaze certainly did. Chloe deepened her frown. Why did Timmy have to be so mean…
"…I thought I already told you…" Gary's voice was soft yet stern "…never apologize..."
Dwight felt bitter bile rise in his throat, disdain in his downward glare as trembling fingers wadded the denim in his jeans. He shouldn't have to apologize for what he couldn't control, but...
Ignorant people, people like Timmy…make that so, incredibly difficult…
He couldn't hear what they were saying, yet he could see the other kids talking. Their facial expressions appeared microscopic from his distance, yet he didn't need much to know they were probably talking about him and all the trouble he'd caused…
Timmy crossed his arms against his chest as a full-body cringe rolled over him. All of them must hate him…how much could he blame them? He hated himself, probably way more than they do. His nose wrinkled in self-loathing; Cosmo and Wanda don't deserve a kid like him. Why did the Council have to spare him? Why couldn't they just give him what he wanted?
Bowing his head, he closed his eyes with thinning lips, attempting to drag swells of emotion back under where he didn't want to feel them. All they had to do was let him jump off that cloud…and he could be what he deserved to be. He wouldn't have inflicted his pain onto others. He wouldn't have to feel anything.
"Have you calmed, yet?"
Quickly swiping the wetness from his eyes, Timmy snapped to the Councilman robed in blue. Birchwind kneeled to him in front of the grey bars, and Timmy masked his fragile spirit with hardened slits between his eyes. "Depends. You gonna piss me off again?"
There was no change in Birchwind's cool expression. "Do you enjoy pushing people away?"
"Who the heck enjoys that?"
"Someone who burns multiple bridges within a matter of minutes."
Timmy mentally rolled his eyes and sneered but dared not let it be seen. Then again, was it even possible to get into more trouble? "You say that like it matters…"
Birchwind studied him as if searching for a crack in Timmy's foundation. "You speak as if it truly does not."
"No one will remember this when they're all grown up." Timmy reiterated.
"But they remember it now, they feel it now." Birchwind gently countered. "Does that not bother you?"
Timmy's crossed arms grew rigid, eyes glaring daggers.
"I believe it should." Birchwind kept cool and collected. "In fact, I believe it does. You are simply too stubborn to admit it."
"…you expecting an apology or what?" the boy muttered.
"That would be nice." the Councilman faintly smirked. "However, the other members of the Fairy Council and I would like to strike you a deal."
Skeptical at best, Timmy raised an eyebrow. "…what kind of deal?"
Birchwind inhaled, puffing his chest before he exhaled. "A fair trade."
"…is that not the same thing?"
"We can argue semantics later." Birchwind waved off, then he stated "I will not disclose any further details of this trade unless you agree to accept."
"And if I refuse?"
Birchwind's cool expression grew firm. "Then you and everyone here can kiss your godparents goodbye."
Timmy blinked, broadening his eyes. Something about that didn't sit right "…everyone?"
"Yes."
"…but why not just me?"
"Your little 'outburst' affected everyone." Birchwind specified. "Therefore, this trade affects everyone as well."
Grimacing, Timmy diverted pensive eyes. Even if all of their godparents would end up leaving eventually, did he want to be the reason they left too soon? And even if they would all forget, he would be stripping all of them of their chance at happiness, bringing them down with him...
…okay, okay. Sure. Bringing others down with him isn't fair, he can see that now. But why make him solely responsible for what would also affect everyone else, good or bad?
"What says you, Timmy Turner?"
As Timmy met the Councilor's stern gaze, he felt a hard, quick pulse in his throat, racing with a frazzling mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
AN: Remember back when I briefly mentioned Crocker's half-sis in chapter 18? Also, Hartman's Syndrome doesn't exist irl. I just needed a reason that made sense for Kevin to look like a Crocker Carbon Copy since I stupidly complicated things by making him Crocker's paternal nephew.