A/N:

Back with the next chapter! My schedule is so erratic, what with working in law, becoming a full-time author, and trying to sleep in between all the excitement. My book is launching some time this fall (according to my manager & publisher) so things have really been escalating. But it's SO NICE to actually be ahead with my work and be able to take the time to update my FanFic!

So, onward with our story.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJ

Jak.

The streets of Haven City were exactly the same as when I left them last—for the first time, not in shambles. The Port was alive with chaos, but not the kind I'd been accustomed to for the majority of my adult life. It was the kind of chaos you wanted to be a part of; colorful, loud with music, boisterous smiles and celebration. Children were running and playing and shouting with one another outside the shops and local establishments on this one night per year that it was safe enough to do so, and it was a sight to see. I almost smiled, but the situation at hand had me too rattled to allow it to grow any larger than a crooked smirk.

Victory Day was our annual celebration of the day we won the war against the Dark Makers and Erol. People from all cities, or distant countries, citizens from places I'd never even been, would gather in Haven City to celebrate. Spargus typically had a huge party as well—usually it was a vibrant parade through the beaches, and a reenactment of the Battle for Spargus—but Haven City always hosted. Ashelin, being Commander in Chief of her city, had planned it each year. She managed to control it in such a way that, despite the increased crime rate, and newer dangers of people fighting their own people, Victory Day was always a day of peace. She made it so the kids could come out and play, and exist in the world. Because back in our day, it was too unsafe for there to be children at all.

All I wanted was a world that was safe for my son. All I wanted was for him to be like how these children were right now, playing without fear, without worry. Sparxon worried. I saw it in his eyes. He was a normal kid, but I could tell he was already different than the other children. He had the personality, the gaze of someone who had seen to much, though Darla and I made it a mission that he saw nothing at all. If I could protect him from the darkness of this world, I'd do it. But my goal was to fix it before he truly had the chance to see how dark it really was.

We approached the Naughty Ottsel, and I ducked through the swarms of people. Daxter's grip on my hair tightened, for moral support or in fear of being knocked off of my shoulder, I wasn't sure. On the ride over, he desperately tried to get me to relax, because the more I thought about Darla and my kid disappearing on me with no warning, the angrier I became. And the angrier I became, the faster I drove. And Dax didn't like that much.

The sky darkened as I stormed up to the bar. I glanced up at the roof and saw Jinx and his crew setting up for the fireworks, and I gave them a brisk wave as they called down to me.

"Jakie-boy!" Jinx shouted, drawing attention to me immediately. Several citizens nearby started whispering my name excitedly, and I pleaded the Precursors to keep them away while I was this heated.

"Jinx." I forced a smile. "My wife inside?"

He leaned over the edge of the building, ash from the cigar between his lips raining down to the ground. "Yeah, she just walked in. All golden and sun-kissed from her meeting with the Sand King. You getting lucky on your big day?"

The forced smile fell. "What meeting?"

Jinx chuckled and returned to his crew, likely pleased with the fact that he knew something I didn't.

I mumbled in agitation, earning a pat on the head from Dax.

"Don't sweat it, pal," he said, smiling warmly, "Remember, D doesn't do shit without reason."

"She also does a lot of shit without telling me." I shook my head and pushed my way into the bar.

I was greeted by strangers and friends alike, my presence officially known the moment I entered the Naughty Ottsel. I smiled at familiar and unfamiliar faces, earning claps on the back, cups of unknown, murky liquids shoved into my hands, and kisses from unsuspecting men and women on my cheeks. I made my way to the back of the bar, handing random people the alcoholic beverages I'd received, and finally located the group of people I cared most for on the planet.

"The man of the hour!" Tess shouted from Torn's shoulder, arms open wide.

"I'm here, baby." Daxter rumbled lowly with a grin, hopping onto the bar. He took her hand, pulling her off of Torn. He swooped her into his arms and spun her around, planting a fat one on her lips.

"Dad!" Dagny squealed from the end of the bar, where he was speaking with Tara, who had to stand on her tiptoes to even see him. He scampered over on all fours and leapt into Daxter's arms.

"My spawn!" Dax kissed his son's capped head, wrapping his lanky arms around his wife and kid. "Did you guys have a good Victory Day?"

While they had their little reunion, I turned to Torn, who smirked at me like he had a dirty secret. Or, he was drunk off the two cups of alcohol in each of his hands.

"Where is she?" I growled, heat flaring up in my chest.

Torn shrugged, his smug smile widening. "Dunno. Around here somewhere. Why? Is something wrong?" He oozed sarcasm.

My nostrils flared unintentionally as I felt my blood pressure rise. "Torn, I'm not in the mood for—"

"Pop!"

I knew that voice anywhere. I looked down in time to see my son's tiny arms around my thigh, face buried in my jeans as he squeezed his hardest. All the fury and anxiety faded the minute I saw his blonde little head, and I lifted him up beneath his arms.

"Dad," Sparxon grinned at me, indigo eyes glittering in the bar lights. "You're late."

"I'm not late," I grinned back at him, ruffling his spiky, gold locks and kissing his head.

He raised his eyebrows skeptically at me, as if he were the adult and I was the child. He looked just like his mother when he did that.

I rolled my eyes at him. I straightened his button-down, sky-blue dress shirt, admiring his brown suspenders and jeans Tess had bought him when she went shopping once. He looked like a little stud.

I tapped his nose. "Don't start with me, boy. Where's Mommy?"

His smile fell. "Why?"

"Because I want to see her." Why is he asking for a reason?

He shrugged. "Bad idea."

I frowned. "Why?"

He avoided my gaze, his small hands patting my chest. He fiddled with a button on my denim jacket.

"Because," he said, his eyes darting up to mine, "I know what you think. Don't be mad."

"I'm…not." I swallowed, leaning back to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"You are." His thin eyebrows lowered, "Mommy is good. Okay?"

My throat tightened, unsure of what to make of this. How could he know how I felt in this exact moment? He was always an intuitive child, but there was no way he could've known the reason I was looking for Darla.

Perhaps she had told him what was going on, kept him in the loop. That made the most sense. But...then why keep me out of that loop?

"Okay, Daddy?"

I blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

He smiled mischievously and touched my forehead with his first finger, immediately zapping me. I yelped in surprise—albeit over-dramatically for his own amusement—and he giggled, hugging me around the neck.

His joyful demeanor returned as quickly as it had disappeared, and he squirmed in my arms to get down. I placed him on the floor and he ran over to where Maichael had lifted Tara onto a bar stool. I watched him go, a strong sense of unease washing over me.

"He's a weird kid." Torn slurred, drawing my attention to him. "Talk about cryptic."

"That's my kid you're talking about," I snarled, shooting daggers with my eyes.

Torn beamed at me. "I rest my case."

"He's also your future son-in-law according to Darla, so let's not start a family feud," I sneered at him. "Copy?"

Torn groaned in response. "Not if I can help it." He took a swig of his drink and nodded to his right. "D's near the side entrance, by the way. Saw her groping Keira's belly."

I nodded in thanks, and slipped through the crowd in search of Darla.

I spotted her by Keira, as Torn suggested. Nica was there as well, her jet-black hair with blue streak tied in a long braid down her back. She caught my eye and lifted her hand to wave, but I guess she saw my expression, because she closed it into a fist. She stepped into my line of sight, placing a hand on my chest to stop me from pressing further.

"Don't," she whispered, gaze rigid and holding me. "Not here."

"You don't even know what's going on." I hissed at her, lifting her hand from my white T-shirt.

"You're going to scold Darla for being MIA."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe you do know. But it's none of your damn business, Neek. Step aside." I tried to move around her but she stopped me again.

"Go easy on her. She's doing her best."

I held my glare, but everything inside of me was turning to mush. I was split between knowing what Nica said was true and accepting it, and being so pissed off at D that I could scream.

Everyone always defended Darla's actions—rightfully so, of course, considering everything she ever did in life was so she could protect us all. But she never let me in, always went off on her own without just talking to me about it first. She was so secretive, and not simply because she was psychic, which was always an excuse before. It was so much more than that. Darla's reasons were always that she didn't want to bother me, or that she was only trying to keep me safe. But today was the last straw, and I'd just about had it with her. I was calling bullshit on the next excuse.

I tried to display calmness so that Nica would allow me to pass. "Please, step aside, Nica."

She patted my chest, ice-blue eyes narrowing at me suspiciously. She whipped around and went back over to Keira, her braid almost slapping me across the face had I not ducked. She could definitely use it as a weapon, I thought, and she will, if I get her mad enough.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head as I approached Darla. Her back was to me while she talked to the girls, her blonde waves flowing down her bare back, which was exposed by a burgundy-colored, backless body suit. I momentarily forgot what the hell I was doing as my eyes traveled down to her backside, snug in a pair of black jeans. I gulped, trying to remind myself why I was mad and how important it was to voice my feelings—something I was godawful at—and get my point across.

Keira's eyes darted past D's head as she spotted me, and my wife turned around, tossing her hair over her shoulder as her ocean gaze held mine.

Goddamn, this is going to be hard.

Darla watched me, unsmiling, knowing exactly what my intent was, even though I was quickly forgetting it. I had walked into this bar ninety percent ready to unleash the beast and ten percent relieved D was safe from harm. But now I was fifty percent ready to unleash one beast, and fifty percent ready to unleash a whole other beast entirely. She tilted her head as I reached her, crossing her arms over her chest, and all the confidence I'd mustered on the drive to Haven City evaporated in a puff of smoke.

I cleared my throat, reaching for her elbow. My stomach flipped nervously.

"Can we step outside for a bit? I need to talk to you."

"We can talk here." She smiled sweetly, but there was hidden meaning behind it.

My focus started returning. Sixty percent beast.

"I think it'd be best if we talked privately, Darla."

"There's nothing to talk about, Jak."

Eighty percent beast.

My eyes clouded with red veins, frustration in me igniting.

"Jak, have a drink on me!" Keira said, laughing lightly to ease the tension building. "Since I can't have any."

"Thanks Keira, but I need to speak with my wife." I said steadily, taking Darla by the biceps and pulling her toward the side entrance. She didn't protest, and I shoved the door open, moving us into the alleyway.

I released her, placing my palm flat on the wall of the building next door, the side entrance slamming shut behind us. The alley was quiet, the sounds of Victory Day celebrators a distant hum. The silence stretched between Darla and I, and I dragged both hands down my face as I turned to her, trying to quiet the demon within.

Ninety percent.

Her arms went to her sides, and she stepped toward me. "Jak, I—"

"Give me a minute." I breathed, shaking my head as if to shake the darker half of me away. I unbuttoned the rest of my jean jacket and straightened up, trying to catch the cool, night breeze. I looked up at the starry sky, biting my lower lip, hands on my hips as I resisted the urge to pace. Breathe man. Get it together.

Darla huffed. "I guess there's really nothing to talk—"

My eyes locked on hers and I hit one-hundred percent. I could feel the dark bubbling up like a pot of hot water, and I grabbed Darla's shoulders. I spun her until she was against the brick side of the neighboring building, causing her to cry out in surprise, and crushed my lips hers.

I was never all that good at the "talking" thing.

She gasped for breath, hands tugging at the hem of my pants before sliding underneath my shirt and up my abdomen. I growled hungrily, pressing her against the wall with my hips, taking her face in my hands. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, increasing in speed as I consumed more of her with each kiss, each sound, each touch, and I closed my eyes.

And I saw nothing but the color red.

I released her at warp speed, leaving her breathless against the brick. I stumbled back against the concrete wall of the Naughty Ottsel, wiping the corners of my mouth. My ears burned like fire and I panted, using the wall for support, as I avoided her gaze like the plague.

"Okay," Darla breathed, her honey-smooth voice sending waves of chills down my back. "I didn't...expect...that."

I glanced up at her warily, finally ready to speak my mind.

"Where the hell did you disappear to?" My voice rumbled deep in my chest. I shoved a hand into my pants pocket, running the free one over my hair, trying to shake off the want growing inside of me.

She peeled herself off the wall, wincing. "The guys and I had business to take care of. Typical crime-syndicate shit. Nothing to get crazy over."

I laughed, looking up at the sky in bewilderment. "You keep going on these wild, dangerous recon missions with your Freedom Force, or whoever else will do the dirty work with you. It's like you're trying to start a fight."

I stepped toward her, pointing accusingly. "We have a child, Darla. We have a child together. Our son needs us. He needs you."

"Don't you think I know that?" She said with a snarl, "This has nothing to do with him. I was safe. I didn't tell you where I was going because there wasn't anything to tell. If you knew what my plans were, you would've overreacted like you're doing right now."

"Overreacted..." I repeated with disgust, backing myself against the wall. "It doesn't matter! You can't just...shut off communications and expect me to be fine with it. You can't shut me out."

"I didn't," she protested, shaking her head. "I just figured you'd be so busy with—"

"That's enough." I whispered, exhausted, holding my hands up in defense. Her mouth snapped shut. "Enough of the lying, the hiding, the excuses. I don't know what to do anymore." My voice cracked with emotion, and I hated myself for it. "I feel like we live separate lives, Darla. Like there's me and you, and then there's another version of you that's trying to kill me."

Her shoulders hunched and she wrinkled her nose. "Come on, it's not—"

"I'm not finished!" I shoved my hands into my armpits as if I were cold, but I wasn't. I looked down at my boots, "You aren't blind to what you're doing to me. Keeping things from me as if...as if..."

"As if what, Jak?" Her voice held a hint of annoyance.

"As if you want me to lose my shit!" I said through gritted teeth as she glared my way. "As if you think I can't handle what's going on behind the scenes. As if you think I can't help you, or be there for you. As if..." my chest constricted, "as if you don't care how it makes me feel. It's like you don't trust me."

Her expression softened and she pouted unconsciously. She reached for me. "Jak, I swear, that's not it at all. We're partners. Everything I do is for us, regardless of when or how you find out about it..."

"Bullshit." I shook my head wildly, leaning away from her, avoiding the words I was so used to hearing. It was yet another excuse, and I couldn't fall for it again. "Bullshit, we're partners. You keep everything from me. From your visions, to your work, to where you go and what you do. I tell you everything, come to you with every issue or situation. Or news, both good and bad. We see each other every day, and we talk, and we spend time together and...and I tell you everything." As I repeated this phrase, it became all the more real to me that the "partnership" I thought we shared was fractured. The vows and promises made in front of our friends and family were almost...worthless to her.

I held my stomach, pressing my hands to it, feeling as though I'd been punched in the gut.

"I'm so goddamn tired of being the last to know about everything." I said quietly.

There was a beat before she spoke again, and this only confirmed my words were true, that I really was the last to know about everything. I was her husband, for Christ's sake.

"Everyone seems to have an idea of what you're running around doing except me," I continued, the emotions overflowing, "Like you have more important things to worry about than talking to me before acting. I'm your husband, D." I shook my head again. "Does that even mean anything anymore?"

"Of course it does!" She argued. "And I trust you more than anyone in the world, so it's not that..." Her voice instantly sounded small, exhibiting vulnerability I rarely ever saw in her. She rested her head against the wall, gazing at me from the opposite side of the alley. The distance, both metaphorical and physical, made me ache inside.

"Well, what is it then?" I asked, despising the weakness in my voice. Where was that damned beast now?

"You're right, you're absolutely right." She closed her eyes. "I have a bad habit of leaving you out of things. Especially lately. There's a lot going on and I only want to fix the problems that come our way before they are even problems. I'm trying to prevent trouble so that you won't have to deal with it. So we don't have to deal with it." She opened her eyes again, and they were glossy with tears. "I truly am trying to protect you, Jak. Protect them," she nodded at the entrance beside me. "I would do anything to keep you safe. That's the only intention here."

I watched a tear slide over her cheek, tinted black from eye make-up. "But why don't you just talk to me? I don't mean you have to tell me every little thing, but...why can't we face these problems together?"

She didn't have an answer for that, and I didn't think she would. No answer existed.

"You aren't protecting me by doing this." I said gently. "You're just...you're hurting me, Darla."

Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip as more tears fell from her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry, I know..." she moaned. "I'm just trying to do the right thing here..."

Your attempts to do the "right thing" is going to get you killed. I thought impulsively, failing at keeping that inner most fear down, the one that always stewed deep inside of me.

I nodded, a strange sense of contentment washing over me as I realized what the right thing to do for me was. What was best for our family. What would make me feel safe.

"Yeah. I understand." I muttered. She opened her mouth to speak, but I went on. "No, I really do. I think I'm going to go home now though, okay?"

She blinked, jaw going slack. "What? You're leaving? It's...it's Victory Day, Jak. You're not going to stay...for the fireworks?"

"I've seen them." I turned to the door.

"But...they're Sparxon's favorite..." Her breathing picked up speed and I knew I had to get out of there before she started crying, and I forgave her and held her, and allowed her to get away with it all over again. I flung the door open and slid back into the noisy bar, leaving her to her thoughts in the alley.

Sometimes the best thing to do in the moment is walk away. Far, far away.

I moved past groups of people, murmuring "excuse me", despite them being unable to hear me. I slipped past Nica and Keira. I sidestepped Maichael, and I found Sparxon sitting on the bar with Dagny on his shoulder. My son spotted me, wide eyes blinking, face emotionless. He said something to Dagny, and the little ottsel leapt off his shoulder and ran across the bar toward his father.

I smiled at Sparx, using all the energy I had in me to be strong enough to do what I needed to do.

"Hey, buddy." I said, voice rasping against my will.

He frowned slowly, looking apprehensive. "Dad..."

Aware that Maichael was right next to me—probably wondering why I wasn't celebrating with Darla—I leaned close to Sparx, placing my forearms on either side of him, speaking low enough so only he could hear.

"Do you want to go see the fireworks from my favorite spot in the Port?" I asked, looking up at him hopefully.

He smiled briefly. "I know what you do, Dad." I watched his expression, trying to read it. "I know. "

I stared at my toddler for a moment, then hung my head and sighed. Full of shame, but full of a relief I didn't recognize. I couldn't figure out the source of it, but I wondered if it was just because of Sparxon, and how he just knew things. Whatever those "things" were. I didn't have to say anything, ever, because he made it seem like there was no need.

I wondered then if this was more than simply a child's intuitiveness.

His little hand petted my head. "We can go, Pop."

I peered up at him, realizing the truth about my son. Something I should've already figured out, had I allowed myself to explore the possibility.

I gazed up at him. "You mean that?"

He nodded, watching me with his anxious eyes. "But fireworks first. You said."

"Yes. I said." I breathed and embraced him, lifting him off the bar. His arms hugged my neck as I carried him through the crowd, not once stopping, not for anything. I heard someone say my name—Maichael, I think—but I kept walking until I was out the door and in the busy street.

"Jak, my boy!"

Samos was stumbling drunk just outside the Naughty Ottsel, swatting the little sparrow flying around the log on his head. He reached a hand to me, and I shifted Sparxon to one arm so that I could grab it.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked, lifting his eyebrows.

"I'm taking Sparxon to see the fireworks," I said, glancing over my shoulder. "And then him and I are leaving for Spargus."

Samos squinted his eyes at me. "Kidnapping your own child, hmm?"

"If you want to call it that."

"I call it how I see it!"

I groaned. "Samos, please. Just..." I peeked over at the door to the bar again. "Just...tell Darla I had to. Tell her I'm sorry...no. Tell her I need this. He's not safe. Not with her. No—I mean, not while... Things are bad in Kras, Samos... and Darla she..." Much like a child, or my child, I couldn't form proper sentences. I couldn't function. I needed to keep going before I changed my mind. "There were hate letters addressed to us..."

"Hmph." Green watched me closely, disappointment clear as day on his face. Being a sage, he had to be aware of all the trouble that surrounded us. "I see. I don't like it... I trust you know what you're doing, but—"

"Let Dad go, Gramps."

Samos and I both looked at Sparxon. He put his head against my chin, reaching for Samos's hand. "Let him go."

Samos took it, staring at my son intently. The two of them seemed to have a silent conversation as they watched one another. It felt like an eternity before Samos spoke, finally releasing Sparx's hand.

"You got it, kiddo." He touched my arm. "Be careful, boys."

I nodded, and Samos went on his way, letting his bird settle on the log at last.

As I hurried to the water, I felt sick at what I was doing...taking our son without a single word to Darla. But wasn't that what she'd done since...since I practically met her? Going off and doing things without so much as a fucking note? And I wasn't doing this to spite her, not in any way. My intentions were obvious. I wanted my son safe. I wanted him with me. Not with his Aunt Tess, or a babysitter, while his mother went off on her own adventures. Maybe I was being selfish, maybe not. But all I knew was that the best thing for Sparxon was to get him far from danger.

More specifically, the danger his mother was bringing into our home.

"On my back," I said to Sparky. He knew the drill by heart, doing as he was told every time I took him flying. He scrambled onto my back, knees tightening at my ribs. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, hands locking around my neck.

"Ready, pal?" I asked, the sensation of light eco warming me from my core.

My skin glowed with a pale, blue light, and my shoulder blades contracted, the muscles loosening to allow my wings to slide out. The slipped through the slits I kept in my shirts, then through the ones in my denim jacket, before their wispy, feather tendrils draped around my son. His face glowed in their light, and some nearby citizens ogled at the sight of the illuminated growths protruding from my back.

"Ready, set, go!" He squealed into my ear. I smiled over my shoulder at him, and shot up into the sky.

He cheered with delight as we soared upward toward the watchtowers, the massive structures standing tall over the glittering water below. I flew over them, pulling a corkscrew maneuver, feeling my son bury his face in the back of my neck. The wind was sharp and wet on my skin, as if it were going to rain, in spite of the clear sky, and it was refreshing to physically leave my fears behind.

I noticed people gathering on the bridges, docks and piers, preparing for the fireworks Jinx and his thugs had worked on every year since the first Victory Day. I tucked my wings, tightening them around Sparx, and began free-falling toward one of the watchtowers. I pulled up, opening my wings wide to slow us down, and landed gently onto the highest landing.

I pulled Sparxon off my back and sat us onto the ledge, dangling my feet over the side, appreciating the incredible height. He moved into my lap, small hands covering mine holding him in place. I squinted at Jinx's crew on the roof, watching intently as they lit the first row of fireworks.

"Good spot, Pop." Sparky leaned his back against me.

I rubbed my face into his messy blonde hair, inhaling shakily. He smelled like his bath-time soap, a scent that was soothing to me and reminded me of home. Reminded me that he was home.

"Sparky?" I said as the first sparklers blasted in the sky above us, dotting the water with reflections of white streaks.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm!"

I ran my palm over his hair, trying to word the question in a way he'd understand... In a way that would help him answer it and confirm what I thought his answer might be.

"How do you know so much?"

He tilted his head up, indigo eyes wide. "I hear you."

I pursed my lips. "Do you...hear everyone?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking solemn as he turned back to the colorful, booming sky. "All the people, I hear."

"And you can hear them even if they do not speak?"

"Yeah."

My heart skipped a beat and I swung my feet anxiously. "So, you can hear what's inside their heads, you mean?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's loud. All the people are loud." He looked up at me again. "You're the most loud one, Dad. Mommy is most quiet."

"Why am I not surprised…" I whispered and smiled. I pressed my cheek to the top of Sparxon's head as he gazed at the sky. "There's a word for that, you know. Being able to hear what's inside people's heads."

"What is it?"

"It's a big word. It's called 'telepathy', son." I processed the word as it slipped through my lips. "It is a power, something similar to what Mommy has."

"Telely?" Sparxon wrinkled his nose and giggled. "Funny."

A large explosion of blue and green fireworks brightened the sky, making it almost appear daylight, and Sparxon cheered and clapped. More and more colors boomed like thunder, the crowd of tiny ant-like people below roaring with excitement. The display was nearing its end.

Eventually, the final sparklers crackled into darkness, my ears ringing in the sudden lack of sound. The crowds hummed with happiness, dispersing with their families, going home after a fun, eventful day. Sparx and I surveyed the busy streets, and I knew neither of us wanted the moment to end. I was conscious of him listening to my thoughts, and I was sure he heard my dread, reality crashing back down. My mind whirred with concern over what I was doing.

"Time to go home, Daddy?" He eventually said, patting my hands as if to console me.

I scooched back against the watchtower, away from the dangerous ledge. "Do you understand what's going on?"

"Always, I understand." Sparxon climbed onto my back, leaning over my right shoulder. The side of his soft face pressed to mine, bringing me reassurance. "It's okay. You're doing the good things."

"Honestly, kid, I don't know have any clue what the right thing to do is," I licked my lips, "I just want to do what's best for you."

"Yes," Sparx petted the side of my face, the side his own cheek wasn't pressed up against. "That's what you do. Mommy is having trouble knowing your head, Pop. If we go, you will fix it. If we stay, Mommy has trouble. I know her head."

I let the light eco flow through me in preparation for flight. "Do you see her visions, too?"

He nodded. "Sometimes. She has to be be empty before we can come back."

"Empty?"

"Her head is clouds. I see them. She is stuck in two places." He reached around my neck and held up two fingers in front of my eyes, causing them to cross. "She needs be away from me."

I frowned. "That's not true, Sparky."

"Yes," Sparxon's face left mine as he positioned himself between my wings. "She needs no clouds. If she has them, we can't go home. She can't save us with clouds."

I paused at the edge of the landing, absorbing his words. "Save us? From what?"

"Dying, Dad."

I took flight, heading away from the Port. Dying... He shouldn't even know the word. He shouldn't have to deal with any of this. He's only a kid. He should be carefree and playing, and young and ignorant.

But instead—because Darla and I carried the genes we had—he'd been burdened by a power I wouldn't wish upon anyone. He was cursed as much as he was blessed. What I wouldn't give to save him from everything, shield his developing brain from the thoughts of every single person around him, so that he could just be a normal little boy...

"Love my Daddy." He said over the wind, squeezing me tightly around the neck.

I love you, too, son.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJ

Darla.

I watched Jak walk away from me, flinging the door to the bar open before he rushed inside.

"Fuck." I moaned, wiping my eyes with my knuckles. I hurt him. But I knew I was going to hurt him, because in order to keep the balance—to ensure we are on the right path of life, to protect him from harm—I needed to lie.

There was nothing I hated more than lies.

The darker part of me, the one whose whispers influenced half of my decisions, enjoyed the secrecy. She lived for the thrill of keeping things from Jak, going against his wishes and doing whatever she wanted. And there was nothing wrong with making my own decisions, but she was toxic. And it was hindering my relationship with the one person in the universe who mattered the most—besides my son—in the process.

Jak needed to let me do what I needed to, even if I risked my life. It was for the good of the future. And he knew better than to think I'd just throw myself in the face of danger without seeing it from all angles. I was psychic for Precursor's sake. If something terrible was going to happen to me, I'd do my best to avoid it. He should know better.

Shouldn't he?

You're missing the point, sweetie.

I tapped my head against the brick, making a sound of disgust. Care to enlighten me then?

I'm not one to take sides, but I am half of your mind. Half your conscious. So, I can't help it.

"Just get on with it." I spat.

Just because you're psychic, doesn't mean you should leave him out of everything.

I peeled myself from the wall, my back aching from when Jak shoved me against it. But the point of leaving him out of it is so that he doesn't get himself killed by trying to be involved.

No. The point is, regardless of your unique abilities, no matter how strong you are, regardless how good of an excuse it is... He will always worry about you. And, communication is key. If the roles were switched, you'd want to be part of his life as much as he's trying to be part of yours. And right now, you might as well be strangers.

"You're wrong." I whispered, but since she and I were the same, I knew she spoke the truth.

Lying and hiding, the secrets and not conferring with him over things... He's outside your bubble. That's not how a partnership works, especially not a "sacred bond" between two people that theoretically makes them "one". You've broken vows, little devil.

I chewed my lip, feeling sudden shame. I did break some promises. I took advantage of him, of my excuse of being psychic. I'd infinitely used it as a reason behind all I did for my loved ones, for everyone. But before our two years of marriage, I was one, single person. On my own, making my own choices. Having a partner, having my other half, being with Jak all the time now rather than being apart on and off for years on end...I hadn't realized that my choices impacted him on a much larger scale.

Everything I did or didn't do as a wife, mother and friend weighed on his shoulders. The fate of the world always rested on his as much as mine. What made me special, what made me any different than him? Just because I saw everything ahead of time, didn't mean I shouldn't involve him, keep him out of it. I was putting myself in danger, even if I had the guys with me. Maybe I was putting our family at risk after all... And what made it okay for me to take charge of our destinies and take the weight of it all on my own without bothering to talk to Jak? He worried about me. He loved me.

And all I'd done was push him away.

You're going to lose him... My demon chuckled lightly. If you haven't already.

I growled to myself, dabbing beneath my eyes again and headed for the door. I'm going to apologize to him.

I rejoined the sweltering hot party scene, sliding between bodies to get to the bar. Maichael came into view, and he was sitting on a stool, craning his neck to see over the crowd. His forehead creased with obvious worry as he scanned the room.

"Hey," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling myself the rest of the way through. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, dragging his eyes down to mine, brow furrowed. "Yeah. How are you?"

"I'll be okay as soon as I find my husband. He said something about going home, but I'm sure he wouldn't leave before Sparky got to see the fireworks..." I glanced around, searching for his blonde head, then peered down the bar seeing all the kids gathered at end of it, laughing and smiling together.

All except mine.

"Hey, where's—"

"Darla," Maichael interrupted, brown gaze narrowing as he looked at me. "Jak was acting strange when he came back in here. He and Sparxon went home, I think." He slid off the stool, gripping my hand. "Is everything okay?"

My heart began to pound, and I looked around in the hopes that maybe Maichael was mistaken, that Jak and Sparky were still here, waiting for the best part of the evening. But they were nowhere in sight.

"We had a fight," I looked back up at Maichael, panicked. "Jak said he was going home, but I didn't think he'd take Sparxon with him."

"I watched them leave," Maichael started walking us through the bar, "You just missed them. I'm sure they're just outside. Why don't we check?"

We hurried toward the entrance, the music and people and chaos growing increasingly louder, bringing me a sense of terror. Something wasn't right, and maybe it was the alcohol, but I couldn't seem to focus on trying to access the future in order to find my boys.

We reached the door and bumped into a drunken Samos the Green Sage.

"Hello, friends!" He hiccuped, blocking our way out. I muttered a "hi" and tried to get around him, but each way I went, he blocked.

"I'm sorry, I seem to be a bit—hic!—tipsy!" The small man laughed, opening his arms wider, as if to stop me on purpose.

On purpose...

I bent down and gripped his shoulders, steadying him.

"Samos," I looked him square in the eyes, and as he stared back, I knew he was acting more intoxicated than he let on, "Samos, where are they?"

His smile dropped and he straightened up, his drunken appearance fading.

"I'm sorry, my dear," he looked at me, remorse set in the small frown on his face. "But it's for the best."

"What are you talking about, Samos?" Maichael turned to me. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"Oh god," I gasped, looking over his head to the mass of people outside. "Samos, where is he? Where's my son?"

"The boy convinced me." Samos moved into the bar and touched my arm. "He showed me what you've seen. Darla, sweetheart...for now, this is how it needs to be."

I shrugged him off, sprinting into the packed street, just as the first set of fireworks burst into the sky. Maichael called after me as I spun in circles, staring at the faces that surrounded me and the skies above me for any sign of my husband and son.

But they were gone.

"No..." I wrapped my arms around myself, slowly kneeling to the ground. "No..."

He left me.

"Darla!" Maichael shouted from behind me, and he knelt down at my side. "What is it? What happened?"

I released a sob and flung myself into his embrace.

"H-He took him!" I stammered out, "He t-took my son!"

My cries were swallowed by the deafening sounds of the fireworks as they began to color the sky. I wailed in Maichael's arms and he held me on the ground, not understanding what was going on, but there for me all the same.

I became undone there on the street. The two most important things in my life had disappeared as if they'd never been there at all. My boys held me together. Everything I did, every choice I made, every sacrifice was for them. For us. For the future I saw where our family was strong, the future where we took on the world as a clan. As Team Mar.

Jak's words from before rang in my mind. "We have a child, Darla."

I had pushed them both away. I had gotten too involved in my work, and I had endangered myself, thus endangering my family. And, not only had I been blind to Jak's feelings, but I had been abandoning my son, too. Keeping him at arm's length in the hopes of protecting him, leaving him with other family members and friends so that I could go on missions in order to preserve the future I'd seen for him. I'd made excuses and kept them out of my bubble. I isolated myself from them, thinking I was saving them, when all it did was tear us apart. Without them, what was the point? Without them, what future was I preserving?

Every journey had deviated paths. I should know that by the futures I'd seen and all of their deviations. I had deviated, strayed a bit to far, and I lost my boys in the process.

I had lost myself.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJ

I arrived at my apartment, shaken from the inside out, still in shock that Jak would do something like this. Something so rash. Was he trying to teach me a lesson? Was he trying to hurt me?

He's trying to save his son from you, before you do something stupid.

"Just shut your damn mouth!" I gripped the sides of my head.

Maichael and Keira rapped on my open front door politely, even though they had driven me home. They insisted on being with me so I wasn't alone. Or, more likely, so I didn't lose my shit and turn into the demon I was.

"Sweetie, he'll come back." Keira inched her whale stomach past her husband so she could come inside. "He always come back."

"Except when he doesn't." I groaned. "I've called his communicator, like, a hundred times. He's not answering. He won't speak to me. Where could he have gone?"

"I'm sure they aren't far from home," Maichael wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "This will blow over soon enough. But you royally fucked up this time, D."

"Hey!" Keira snapped, causing Maichael to bump his head on the inside of the fridge. "You were her partner-in-crime, if you recall! You and Torn both dove into Razer's mob house with her willingly, knowing the risks. Don't pretend like you aren't equally at fault here for getting her into trouble."

"D and I always get into trouble," Maichael rubbed the back of his brown-haired head, closing the fridge door. "That's not news to anyone. Especially not to Jak." He glanced at me. "But Keira and I always talk about that sort of stuff before making major decisions. We share everything. I don't blame him for being pissed off at you."

"Everything?" Keira lifted her aqua eyebrows at him, "Are you sure about that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Almost everything. Just enough to keep you happy."

Keira gagged jokingly and walked over to the island counter. "Maichael and I can stay with you tonight. Keep you company..." She sifted through a pile of mail she spotted.

"You don't have to," I said with a heavy heart, "You're about ready to pop, and you should be home when baby Penny arrives—"

"Hey, what's this?"

Keira waved a red envelope, that was sealed with wax. She handed it to me, and in fancy cursive on the front was "Mr. and Mrs. Jak Mar".

"No return address," I muttered, peeling the envelope open. I pulled out the parchment inside, skimming the letter's contents.

And then, I let it float down to the floor.

"What is it, D?" Maichael bent down to lift the letter and brought it close to his face. "What's it say?"

My chest tightened, and instinctively my hands fisted at my sides. I knew this day would come. I'd seen it in my visions for several years. I dreaded it, every day, for the last two. I'd hoped the peace would last longer, thought maybe I'd be able to change enough so that this letter would never arrive in my mailbox.

Razer didn't take the deal. I knew war was coming. I didn't know why, or when. But now that I'd read the letter, I knew exactly what was waiting for me in the morning when I awakened.

"We've been invited by Krew's daughter, Rayn, to attend the reading of his Last Will and Testament." I snatched the letter from Maichael and crumpled it in my fist, rage consuming every inch of my body. I gripped the island, knuckles turning white.

"What?" Keira grabbed the rumpled ball of paper from me, eyes shifting across the page. "What the living hell..."

Maichael and I locked eyes, and I could tell he recognized the look on my face.

The part of our lives I'd been trying to avoid, to put a stop to, the part of our future I was trying desperately to fix...was now officially our present.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJ

A/N:

We hate when Mommy and Daddy fight...but I know you guys live for the Jarla saga! The drama unfolds as the late fat-ass, Krew, initiates his curse on our favorite heroes. Are they ready for the race of their lives? Will they survive what Krew has in store for them?

(Yes, we know they survive, but humor me.)

Stay tuned, my friends!

~RyJo