The church towered over me, moss and morning glories scattered across its exterior walls. I wouldn't have dared to step foot in a shiny Mormon temple. Never again. They would have killed me with their über-judgement-gaze if God himself didn't palm-smack me into the deepest layer of hell right from the doorway. Like one would kill a mosquito. Splat!

I wanted to be here- at this smaller, supposedly more open-minded church gathering. It was a less foreign environment. I'd heard about immortality a few times from the hyper-religious folk in my old neighbourhood: it was something to be earned from one's faith and goodwill. What if someone upstairs is upset with me for being alive? Or maybe I've been cursed from birth. These thoughts nagged at me as I drove. I felt stupid thinking like that. But, just in case, I wanted to see if I could somehow make things right before getting a brand new body.

I was one foot out of the car when Biddy asked me in a quiet, innocent tone, "Did Electro die?" Not even a warning before she dropped that bombshell of a question. I looked away. He was trying to sabotage me. He didn't know any better. I should have controlled myself. I don't know what happened. Yes, I do. With no way to explain the details, I could only force a solemn nod.

"Oh. So… it's just us three now."

I sat in the sanctuary's last pew; it was sticky with dust, but it was closest to the door. The Bidybabs stayed in the car, miraculously. I kept my head low. The words seemed to float past my ears, so I absorbed nothing from the sermon. A cough developed deep in my throat. I hid my mouth in my hands. Don't look up. I watched my fingers intertwine together. I couldn't ignore the heavy feeling of judgement sinking on my shoulders. The stare of a hundred eyes threatened to melt me down into the carpet.

I shouldn't be here, I thought. I don't belong here. My suddenly-desert-dry throat clenched around itself. No! I couldn't hold back. I broke into a heaving fit of coughing, the sound gurgling up from deep inside. What is this? Stop it!

The eyes whispered among themselves, "The Purple Guy! It's him! What is he doing here?! He's alive?! Is he trying to fix his life? What about the children? It's him! Keep him away from the kids!" It didn't take long for the pastor to notice the congregation's sudden lack of attention. He locked eyes with me. His droopy face blanched, paler than milk, the longer he stared. An uncomfortable minute dragged on before the old pastor finally turned to the people gathered around him. He whispered something. The people hurried down the aisle with grimaces of fear. They headed directly for me. I tightened my grasp on my walking sticks and held my ground. All the philosophical questions I could not ask congealed at the base of my skull to form a headache. The room was spinning.

They're kicking me out.

"Hey, we don't want any trouble, okay? Please, we- we can't help you here. May God have mercy." It was a voice that feigned sympathy.

I frowned. Your poster on the front door said anyone was welcome! I attempted to protest and winced at the mechanical garble that left my mouth. The crowd rippled away, gasping in fright. A woman screamed. I averted my eyes. The braver ones among the people- a group of rugged husbands- raised their hands and began to advance. I took some wavering steps back. Before I realized it, they were ushering my ass right back outside. SLAM!

I glared at my shadow lingering on the door. It's not fair. My vision flashed white. I pounded on the church door with my fist. Muffled screams echoed through the wood. I didn't care. Why did I expect any different reaction here? I made my way around the building and stopped in front of the window. The frosty grass crunched beneath me. Through the hazy glass I saw those perfect little families bowing their heads together.

This isn't fair, I repeated the thought in my head over and over. I should've fought this. I started to cry out in anger only for another hacking fit to interrupt. I cupped my face. My ribs rattled with every cough. What is happening to me? I don't get sick like this. That was a fact I used to take pride in. Once the episode cleared, I noticed the chunky dark grey residue sitting in my palms. Some of the larger pieces were fuzzy. What is this?

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Silver eyes stared through the sockets of a yellow rabbit suit. They scanned. Black goop seeped out of the suit's cracks and dripped all over the checkered floor. The rabbit advanced. It met my gaze.

"Follow me."

"No," I said.

"Wrong answer."

Something is wrong with my legs! I looked down to see them disintegrating into the black sludge. The yellow rabbit was pulling me inside of itself.

"Wh-what? Wait! No, stop!"

I dropped to my belly, trying to crawl away. My arms melted into the tiles as I went. I couldn't continue forward. I couldn't move. Roaches crawled around my body. They circled. A shadow engulfed me, and I looked up to see the dark silhouette of a man towering overhead. Somewhere in another room, a baby cried. Will someone help him? The giant man leaned down. I couldn't see his face. A plastic bag dangled in his grasp.

"Please, don't," I tried to say, but I couldn't speak. Right. My feeble squirming was not enough to stop the mystery man. He scooped what was left of me into the bag. I was nothing.

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"Michael!"

"Michael, wake up!"

"What's going on?!"

I jolted awake. The Bidybabs flew off my chest, equally startled. I looked past their heads and was immediately blinded by the pure white outside. Ow, what the hell? I shielded my stinging eyes to let them recover. A Bidybab poked my leg.

"What is that outside?" she asked. I dared to look back up again, squinting through the brightness. After rubbing my eyes and taking a moment to fully wake up, I finally comprehended what was going on. Oh, it's that time of the year, isn't it? I closed a hand around the car door handle and gave it a push. The icy door crackled, giving me a challenge. Come on… The Bidybabs all clung to me. When the door popped open, they gasped. A gust of cold air wooshed into our faces, invading the car and biting through my clothes. I swung a leg out. A pleasant crunch sounded underneath me as I stepped out of the car.

Looks like we got quite the powder this year.

I turned back to see the Bidybabs shying away from the cold.

They've never seen snow before.

Their widened eyes sought my approval. I nodded towards the outside, trying to gesture that it's okay. It's safe. Slowly, the Babs lowered themselves out of the car. They flinched at the crunch.

"Oh. It is cold but soft."

I watched them explore this new sensation. Bitey shoved a chunk of snow into her mouth, only to shriek and vigorously shake her head.

"Cold!"

The others laughed. I felt a smirk form on my face.

"Look at you being a dad." Her voice echoed in my skull. And my smile dropped. That oh-so-familiar feeling of dread curled inside my stomach.

No. No, Abby was lying. She and Sasha were trying to ruin everything.

My body tensed. I returned to the driver's seat. I visited a memory. The way Sasha fled from Holly's. She fell off the bottom step. Still dizzy from the fight. She didn't look pregnant then. Did she? I couldn't remember correctly, and I didn't feel like flipping through my papers to check if I wrote down a detail like that.

I just want to talk, she'd said. If Abby really was lying, then what did Sasha have to say? Maybe about me being... weird? The Purple Guy? Or maybe she missed me? My hands gripped the hem of my pants pockets. Not likely. But what if she did? And then I thought about her touch. It was warm and safe when nothing else was. Maybe... with a new body, I could go back.. and everything would be okay. Normal. For real this time.

I refocused my attention back onto the Bidybabs. They chucked pieces of snow around at each other. Each impact to their plastic bodies made a small thunk and caused an eruption of child-like giggling.

Huh. They already figured out how to snowball fight.

A heavy snowball sent Biddy flying off her feet. Chelsea and Bitey laughed. BAM! They hit her again as she stood. She plunged back into the snow. Their laughter chattered on for several minutes. They rushed to make more snowballs, packing as much snow as they could in their tiny hands. A minute passed. Biddy had not yet resurfaced. Bitey raised a snowball but Chelsea, being a good sport, slapped it out of her hand. She called out, "Biddy?"

For a second, a Bidybab head poked up from within the snow and then dropped back down. I got out of the car. Chelsea and Bitey watched me hobble their direction. My walking sticks pierced through the scattered chunks of snow as I went. I approached the pile where Biddy laid. She was trembling. Something about her eyes seemed odd- like its plastic had morphed into wet flesh. I blinked. It was only for a moment. Am I seeing things right? Her eyes caught onto me. She gave me a polite smile.

"Hello," she said with a voice that dragged and wavered in pitch. "Ha-ve you come to pla-ay?" I slumped down next to her to clutch her face. The plastic was cold. What's- The shivering halted, and though Biddy's limbs had fallen, her smile did not. Her pupils were stuck in place, fixed to my gaze; their glimmer of life faded fast. It was as if time suddenly stopped.

Biddy was dead.

I sat there. A snowflake pricked the tip of my nose. Warmth grew underneath my hands, and I tore away once it began to tingle against my skin.

"What do we do with her?"

I lurched to my feet and back to the car. I popped open the trunk. Empty. Not turning around, I pointed at the vacant space. I heard the snow shuffle around behind me. Chelsea and Bitey brought the frozen body and placed it inside the trunk. I closed it. The Babs opened their mouths to speak, but I motioned to the rest of the car first. We all climbed back inside. To safety.

For an hour, I stared at nothing.

They're next. What the hell happened? She was fine. And then she wasn't. Was it the snow? An idea pushed through my aching head. Clothes. They need warmer clothes. They weren't built to withstand these temperatures. Some winter clothes should help, but they need to stay out of the cold, too.

I closed my fingers around the steering wheel. The car gets cold at night. That's going to be hard. Another idea formed. What if Henry Emily lets us stay? I imagined the four of us huddled around a big fireplace. The three of us. I clenched my teeth and let my head rest on the wheel. No. Don't count on that.

I forced myself to sit up. I grabbed a paper and pen and began to draw a picture of a small child in a snug, impossibly thick winter coat. Chelsea has her dress, but that's probably not going to be enough.

"Oooooh," the two Bidybabs chorused when I showed them the art. It wasn't as realistic as I wanted it to be, but it got the message across.

"Where are we going to get that?"

The odds of finding these in a dumpster are slim. We'll need to go to a store and buy them. How do I draw a store so that they'll understand? Do they even know what a store is?

"You know, but you can't tell us," Bitey seemed to somewhat understand my broken groan of frustration. I put my head down to get back to thinking. What's a good and cheap store that isn't too popular around here? Maybe we can go before closing. Not many people around then-

A tap on my shoulder broke my concentration. "I have an idea. If you use Biddy's voice box, you might be able to talk again." My brow furrowed as I spent eons processing Chelsea's words.

Talk, voice box, Biddy? What? Oh. No. I can't do that. I imagined dissecting the small robot's frozen body- Biddy's corpse. The steering wheel leather's seam dug into my palms. My stomach flipped with disgust the longer I sat with this idea. I can't. I am not stealing from her dead body. I shook my head. Chelsea crawled into the passenger seat next to me.

"She's not using it anymore. I promise it's okay. I will get it, and we will put it in for you. Okay?"

I hesitated. They're certain about this. They did fix me up last time. God knows what parts they used. The Bidybabs stared hard with their huge, innocent eyes.

They just want to help, I knew. They didn't move until I gave them the okay with a nod. They left the car, moving swiftly through the snow. I flinched at the sound of the trunk popping open. The Babs returned. It was done. Chelsea held a fistful of wires that dripped with a silver substance. She raised the fist up to me. I wrinkled my nose. We're actually doing this. Okay.

I sprawled out across the backseat of the car and let my limbs fall limp. Staying still wasn't so bad anymore. The two Bidybabs began their operation by exposing my chest and neck area. I felt a cold chill hit the roof of my mouth. I kept my eyes trained upwards.

There's a board game about this, I thought dryly. With gentle precision, the Bidybabs removed the broken voice box from my throat and set in place the replacement. I felt their hands jostling through the wires. It was a familiar feeling. That didn't make it any less weird to experience.

"Michael, did you know that a black goo is growing inside of you?"

Something's growing? What? Oh, the coughing. I had almost forgotten. Wait, they can see it. I tried to think. What could that stuff be? First the silver stuff, now this? I didn't start coughing until after being in jail. So… is it some kind of mold? Yeah. It's mold from the food, isn't it? So that backfired. Great.

After patching up my upper body, the Babs got to work trying to stabilize my legs. They used the last of the duct tape on my loose knee joints. It wasn't enough to repair me- it was only to prolong my collapse. I need that new body NOW.

I sat up and grasped at the fresh tape that formed my neck.

"Say something. Try it! Talk! It should work!" the Babs insisted.

"Um… o-oka-y…" The new voice that exited my mouth was a raspy, distorted replica of the voice I used to have, its pitch being the only thing that was remotely normal. My throat ached with a squeezing pain. The voice box was too small, and it didn't belong to me. I coughed, nearly retching. My mouth struggled on a thanks.

"You're welcome," Chelsea beamed at me. "If you need any other parts, we're here too-"

"No," I cut her off immediately. She and Bitey narrowed their eyes at me. I saw the disappointment fall over their faces. In their minds, they were being kind and helpful.

If their parts can help, I could last longer on my own, a small part of me realized, but I shoved that away with a frown. No. I can't do that. They have to last, too. It's only fair.

I sighed, "We're… gonna g-get through this… together. Okay?"

Chelsea and Bitey looked at each other before each giving me a nod.

I think we all knew the real truth. Winter does not care if you are innocent or not.