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Caretaker shakes his head and scrambles to lift up the bar to the seat, but the coaster starts moving. 

“You’re supposed to be in prison!” Caretaker says, voice rising in panic. “How are you here?” 

He smiles cruelly and points to where Whumpee stands, “I had a little help.” 

One of the people standing around Whumpee stares up at them and smiles. She takes a step closer to Whumpee and wraps her arm around him, he snaps his attention to her and cries out. 

Whumper slams his fist on the bar and pulls Caretaker’s attention back to him, “You won’t find  him in time.” 

The coaster flips over and twists, turning Caretaker’s stomach over. He screams, fear rising in his throat as he grips the handlebar. Bile fills his mouth and he swallows it back down as the coaster slows. 

Caretaker stares back at the ground, ignoring Whumper’s eyes boring into him. He searches around where Whumpee was for any sign of him, but there’s nothing. No glimpse of his hair, no blur from his shirt, nothing. 

Caretaker squeezes his hands, nails digging into the heel of his hand until blood starts to bead out from under them. He stares at Whumper and grabs him by the collar. 

“Where the hell is he?” he spits, twisting the fabric of the shirt until it pulls Whumper closer to him. 

Whumper chuckles callously and shakes his head. He looks at his watch and then back at Caretaker, “You’re already too late.” 

The bar unlatches and Caretaker flies out of his seat, running into the crowd. He skids to a stop in front of the group next in line and pulls his phone out, pulling up a picture of Whumpee. 

“Did you see where he went?” 

He walks down the line, shoving the phone in their faces until one of them nods and points to the parking lot. Caretaker shouts a thanks as he runs through the thick crowd, pushing people out of his way. 

The overhead lights shine into the parking lot, illuminating the hundreds of cars parked for the fair. He shouts out, “Whumpee! Whumpee where are you?” 

He runs down the rows of cars, dropping to the ground every few rows to check the ground. He calls out again, desperation crawling into his voice, “Whumpee! I’m looking for you! Where are…”

He trails off, something catching his eye. 

His feet hurt from running, but he runs anyway. He runs to the shining puddle growing larger by the second right on the edge of the parking lot. The lights reflect in it, emphasizing the red color. 

Caretaker falls to his knees and collapses forward, catching himself on his forearms. 

He crawls forward, the toes of his shoes dragging on the asphalt. The knees of his jeans soak the blood up, the fabric wicking it up from the ground. 

Whumpee lays in front of Caretaker, breathing shallow and eyes dull. Caretaker sobs and pulls him into his lap, “I’m so sorry.” 

Whumpee shivers, his entire body shakes as the blood slowly drains from his body. 

Caretaker pulls him up until their foreheads are touching and he can feel Whumpee’s breath on his chin, “I’m so, so sorry. I never should have left you.” 

That might stop me. 

The knight draws its blade and stands ready, sword held high and ready to strike. I hold my saw, wishing I hadn’t sprung for it and had brought my axe instead. 

The knight stops in its tracks and nods to something behind me. 

“Arm yourself,” it says, lowering its sword. “I will not fight an unarmed man.” 

Behind me, there’s a rotting corpse still holding onto its weapon. Gingerly, I walk up to it and try to coax the sword from its hands. “Come on, just give it up. You don’t need it anymore.” 

The blade slides out of the corpse’s hands with ease and I stumble backwards, falling on my ass. I rush to my feet and raise my blade. 

The knight copies me, it takes a few steps back into the circle of leaves and closes its eyes for a moment. 

Before I can react, the knight rushes up to me. I dodge out of the way and the sword hits the air where my chest was a mere second ago. I exhale sharply and raise the sword above my head, swinging it at its shoulder, hoping it’s not much different from an axe. 

It is. 

The blade misses its shoulder completely and buries itself into the ground. I pull at the hilt of the sword and beg it to release from the dirt, tearing the muscles in my shoulders and back. 

It frees itself from the ground and the knight attacks again. It knicks my leg and I fall to the ground, clutching my leg with one hand and barely holding onto my blade with the other. The knight stands over me, its black armour blocking out any light the sun was casting through the thick blanket of leaves above us. I hold the blade up, using it to shield my face and the knight tilts its head at me. 

With the hand I was using to nurse my wound, I pull the knight’s ankle and throw off its balance. It falls chest first into my sword. 

The knight groans and rolls off of me, the sword twisting in its chest. It screams in pain and the entire forest reacts to it. Bird song turns into frantic cawing, feathers flapping anxiously as the knight writhes on the ground. All the rodents’ feet can be heard running over branches and scurrying away from the tree. 

The knight laughs. 

I roll onto my side and stare at it quizzically as it laughs. 

“Incredible,” the knight says, lifting its head to level with mine. “Even at my strongest, you manage to beat me. With a dirty trick!” 

Its head lowers back onto the ground and I stand up. “Why is that funny?” 

“Oh,” says the knight, taking a few breaths. “I guess it’s not. I’ve just…fought thousands of men trying to kill her and none have been successful. Because they’ve all been honorable and noble knights. They pulled no tricks, fought with valor and died with honor. But you!” the black knight laughs and throws its head back, “You are going to hate what’s going to happen next.” 

I stumble back as the knight’s head falls. I reach for my swor-the sword and hold it to the knight’s throat. 

It crumbles. 

Without warning, the knight’s skin sinks into itself and turns to dust. The armour falls into itself, no longer held in place by a body. I stare at the armour, then at the knight’s sword and drop mine-I drop the sword in my hand. It’s not mine; I stole it from a corpse. 

The knight’s sword glimmers in the sun, the black metal turning into shimmering purple and green. It calls to me, draws me close to it. So close I can smell my blood on it. I reach out to it and the knight’s words ring in my head. 

“You are going to hate what’s going to happen next.” 

I pull my hand back and tuck it in my belt. Suddenly more aware of the forest around me, I’m hyper aware of every little movement. Every deer hoof snapping a twig is some magical forest-dwelling creature coming to kill me. 

There’s time to bring the entire forest to an end. My saw is just outside the circle of leaves. I need to hurry. 

I try to run outside the circle, but the leaves extend with me. The saw is cast backward and no matter how far I stretch my arm out, it’s always just out of reach. 

“Fuck!” I shout, stomping my foot into the ground. 

In defeat, I lay on the leaves. The scent of warm dirt engulfs me and I close my eyes for just a second. 

When I open them, the black knight’s sword is next to me. I roll away from it and jump to my feet. My hand reaches toward the sword, palm open and ready to embrace the hilt of the weapon. 

I wrap my fingers around it and my entire body lights up with pain. I hold on tight to the sword as if it’s the only thing keeping me alive- maybe it is. 

The pain dies down and I open my eyes. The armour envelops me, sculpting to my body. I stare in amazement as the legs lengthen, the chest gets smaller and the arms become less defined. Is that what I look like? 

The helmet. 

It hovers in front of me, suspended in the air by magic. I nod, I don’t know why. 

The neck of the helmet widens enough to fit over my head and lowers until I can look out of the visor. The metal sculps tightly around my throat and welds itself to the rest of my suit. I hold the sword in my hand and place it in its scabbard. 

Supervillain’s face falls, she takes a step back and shakes her head. “What are you talking about?” 

“Oh my god, you didn’t know.” Hero says. “How could you have known? I mean, I told you I was going to kill him. I told you I had killed him. I even sent you a fucking finger in the mail. But I thought somehow you knew.” 

He laughs and runs his tongue along his teeth. Supervillain shakes her head, “You-” she exhales sharply. “What? You didn’t-” 

Hero cuts her off, throwing his head back laughing. “I didn’t kill him!” he extends his neck as far as it goes and whispers. “He’s been with me the whole fucking time. And boy, can he scream.” 

Supervillain sniffs and swallows the sobs swelling in her throat. “Where is he?” 

“There’s an abandoned building…just off the highway about a mile and a half from here,” Hero says with a smile. “If you hurry, you might make it before…well, you’ll see.” 

Supervillain runs out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She looks at the map tacked up on the wall and finds the building Hero was talking about. 

She runs to the kitchen and grabs the first-aid kit out from under the sink and runs outside. She dials a number on her phone as she turns the key in her car. 

“Hello?” the voice on the other end says. 

“Medic?” she asks, voice shaking. She pulls out of the driveway and turns onto the highway. 

“Supervillain?” 

“I need you. Um…Villain needs you.” 

There’s a moment of silence and Medic shuffles around, sending static through the line. “Villain’s dead, Supervillain. Remember?” 

She shakes her head, “No, he’s not. I thought- I thought he was but…just. Please meet me at my place. Please. I- this is important to me.” 

She waits, silently begging them to say something. 

Medic takes a deep breath, exhaling heavily. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Please hurry.” she begs, hanging up and stepping out of her car. 

The warehouse stands in front of her, boarded up. She runs around to the back of the building and peels a board off from the siding. She ducks inside and bites her bottom lip. 

The air is musty with a tinge of iron floating around. Light filters in through holes in the roof, illuminating the dust in the air. A gas mask sits on a table, mostly clear of dust. 

It catches Supervillain’s eye and she walks up to it, covering her mouth with the collar of her shirt. Behind the table, there are dozens of pictures tacked up on the wall. 

They’re all of Villain in different positions, each more painful looking than the last. 

In each picture, his body is contorted, ropes tied around his legs and arms, holding them in impossible positions. Bile rises in her throat. 

She holds a fist to her mouth and swallows thickly, turning from the pictures. 

In one corner of the building, she sees a lumpy mattress. She hurries over to it and sees Villain’s hair poking out from under a blanket. It’s longer, matted, and caked in blood and dirt, but it’s Villain’s hair. 

She looks up and blinks, trying to fight the tears threatening to run down her cheeks. 

A whimper pulls her attention and she drops to her knees. “Villain?” 

She takes the blanket off of him and gasps. 

His right leg is tied to itself, calf flush with his hamstring. His left foot is tied to his right thigh and his knee is secured against his chest with a bow, making it so that he’s lying with his back curled. His right arm is locked under the bend in his right leg, wrist tied to a rope around his neck. His left arm is tucked under his back, knuckles against his spine. 

“Villain, it’s me, it’s Supervillain. I’m gonna get you untied.” 

“No,” he shakes his head weakly and points at something with his right hand. “Loo…”

She searches for what he’s pointing at and freezes when she sees it. 

A bag of sand is spilling onto the ground, slowly loosening a rope tied to another bag, significantly lighter than the emptying bag. If the smaller bag falls onto the pressure plate underneath it, it’ll trigger a gun trained on Villain. 

Supervillain stands up and grabs the rope right above the small bag of sand. She cuts the rope with her dagger and sets it on the ground. She turns the gun away from Villain and goes back over to him. 

“Ok, I took care of it, let’s get you out of here, yeah?” she nods to herself and falls to her knees, unsure of where to start. 

Villain makes a pained sound, “Left arm. Start…with my left.” 

She nods and gently coaxes his arm out from under him. The blood rushes back into his arm, turning it pink. Villain mutters and sucks air in through his teeth. 

“What next?” she asks. 

“Other arm,” he says, gasping. 

She cuts the rope connecting his arm to the rope around his neck and sets it on the mattress at his side. She works her dagger blade under the rope around his neck and starts to saw away at it, forcing herself to ignore the bruises along his neck and collarbones. She unties the bow keeping his knee against his chest. 

He falls back, head hitting a thinner spot in the mattress. He moans in pain and turns his head away from Supervillain. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should’ve-”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts. “Just get me out of here.” 

She cuts the rope keeping his foot flat against his right thigh and his leg flops onto the mattress, blood flooding to the areas that the rope was. 

Finally, she cuts the rope binding his right leg together. Villain breathes sharply and shakes his head, trying to keep the leg from moving. 

“What are you doing?” 

All he can manage is, “Hurts.” 

“We have to go, Villain. Sidekick has to know Hero’s missing by now." She pulls him up and he tries to stand next to her, but collapses. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, tears welling in his eyes. “I- I can’t stand.” 

She shakes her head and loops an arm around his waist. “Totally fine, I’ll help you.” 

He whimpers and tries to stand up, but as soon as he puts weight on his foot, he falls again. 

“Ok,” Supervillain says, thinking. “I’ll just carry you.” 

He nods and she puts an arm at the middle of his back and the back of his knees. She lifts him and carries him to where she came in at. 

She looks at the hole she made, then at Villain, and back at the hole. “Any ideas?” 

Villain nods and squeezes his eyes shut. “Put me down…” he exhales shakily and opens his eyes. “Then go through, and drag me out.” 

“Right.” Supervillain says. She nods once and…does nothing. 

“Supervillain.” Villain says. “Hurry please.” 

“Right.” she says again. 

This time, she squats and puts Villain on the ground close to the exit. She ducks through the hole and reaches for Villain’s hands. He flinches and pulls his hands away from her. 

“Sorry.” He rushes. He puts his hands back where they were and lets her grab his wrists. 

She drags him through the hole and picks him back up, holding him close against her. He curls against her, face buried against her shirt. 

“Ok,” she says, stopping. “I’m going to put you in the backseat and drive home. Alright?” 

All he can manage is a nod. 

On the ride back to Supervillain’s house, Villain slowly stretches his arms and legs, letting the muscles get used to moving again. His eyes stay closed, the bright light of the sun unfamiliar to him after the months he’d spent in the warehouse. 

The familiar bumps in Supervillain’s driveway alert him that they’re almost done driving and he sits up slowly. Supervillain opens his car door and holds her hand out to him. He takes it and she pulls him out of the car, looping her arm around his waist to keep him upright. Medic’s car is in the driveway, door open. 

They jump up from their spot on the porch and rush over to Villain’s side. They fuss over him, checking him over for any serious wounds before pulling away. 

Supervillain unlocks the door and pushes inside, forgetting about her guest. 

Hero cranes his neck to look at who’s at the door. He smiles when he hears three sets of shoes. 

“Aren’t you going to check on me?” He asks, voice booming through the house. “I assume you haven’t forgotten about me.” 

Villain freezes, recognizing the voice instantly. His entire body tenses and he shakes his head. “No.” he stumbles back and his back hits the door. “No, what-what’s he doing here?” 

Supervillain urges him forward, “You don’t have to worry about him, he’s tied up in the hallway. Just…get to the couch so Medic can look over you and I’ll deal with him.” 

She drags him to the couch and sits him down, “I’ll be right back.” 

Villain breathes rapidly, barely keeping upright. “Don’t- don’t let him…”

“I won’t. I promise.” Supervillain interrupts. She disappears into the hallway. 

Medic kneels in front of Villain, unzipping their go-bag on the floor next to them. 

“Hey,” they say, tapping his knee. “Deep breaths. Calm down, you need to trust Supervillain.” 

Villain inhales shakily and nods, he exhales and pulls his legs to his chest. Medic does a quick once-over of him and wraps a blanket around his shoulders. 

“You’re going to be alright, but it’ll take time. Your muscles are…” 

“I’ve been tied up for five months, I’ve known they’re atrophied. As long as I’ll get better.” he says, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. 

They nod, “You’ll have to work hard, and may never get back how you were before, but you’ll be alright.” 

“Hero, what’s going on?” he says in a soft voice. 

For a few more seconds, they just stand there. Villain trying to calm the worry rising in his chest with every second Hero doesn’t respond. 

Hero chews on the skin inside her cheek, tears welling in her eyes. She finally focuses on Villain and shakes her head, “You were right.” 

Slowly, she unzips her jacket and pulls it down for Villain to see. Her arms are covered in bruises, so is what he can see of the rest of her. 

“Will you help me?” She asks, voice breaking. 

Villain nods, “Of course.” 

He leads her into the living room and sits her down on the couch. She pulls her jacket back over her arms and zips it up. Villain digs through a bin of blankets and tosses one her way, then takes another one out and sets it on the chair next to the couch. 

“Tea?” he asks, already walking to the kitchen. 

She nods, “Yes please.” 

He dips into the kitchen and calls out, “What kind? I’ve got…well how about you just tell me what you like and I’ll bring it over.” 

“Green tea would be great if you’ve got it,” she calls back. 

He rustles through the cabinets and pulls the box out triumphantly, “Green tea: check!” 

He swears he hears her chuckle and he smiles to himself while pouring boiling water into mugs.  Villain sets the mugs on a plate, the tea bags next to them and digs into his cupboard for the sugar. He gets out a few packaged snacks and sets them on the plate and picks it up and brings it into the living room. 

The blanket he tossed onto the chair for himself is on the couch next to Hero now, her eyes dart from him to the cushion, then back to him. He smiles warmly, sets the plate down on the coffee table and plops onto the couch, leaving a cushion between them. 

“I didn’t want to guess on how strong you liked your tea, so I just bought the bag. Take whichever mug you want, I’ll drink whatever. Sugar if you want it, take some snacks, anything you want.” 

Hero smiles and takes the smaller mug. She cups her hands around it and closes her eyes for a second before reaching out and grabbing the tea bag from the plate. She rips the wrapper and dunks it into her mug, swirling it around for a few seconds. 

Villain takes the other mug and does the same with his tea bag, then reaches to grab a package of cookies from the plate.

Villain looks over to her, trying to gauge how to start the conversation. She’s taking a sip of the tea, letting it sit in her mouth before swallowing. He clears his throat and reaches for the remote, “Music?” 

Hero nods, “Sure.” 

He nods and pulls up instrumental music. “This work?” 

She nods again and smiles, “Yeah, thanks.” 

He sets the remote on the coffee table and opens his cookie bag. He offers it to her first, then takes one out when she rejects it. 

“Do…you wanna talk about it?” He asks, wiping the cookie crumbs on his blanket. 

She bites her cheek and shakes her head, “Not right now.” 

Villain shifts into a more comfortable position and nods, “Do you want to talk about anything?” 

She nods, but doesn’t say anything. Villain inhales sharply and sets his mug on his knee. “What about the weather? It’s been crazy lately! I mean- 20’s then 50’s and even the 70’s? What’s up with that? My perennials started to sprout and now I’m afraid they’re gonna freeze next week.” 

Hero chuckles softly and smiles, “Yeah, it’s fucking with my migraines, the pressure change really messes me up.” 

“Migraines suck!” Villain says, leaning forward slightly. “It’s like. Hey do you want to have a constant owch pain in your head? Too bad, here you go!” 

Hero snorts and nods, “Yeah it’s horrible. And it’s so much worse because Superhero wants me to-”

She cuts herself off and looks at her hands, suddenly very interested on the border of the blanket. She bites the inside of her cheek and her brows furrow. She shakes her head and inhales shakily. 

“Yeah, I remember.” Villain says, picking at his fingernails. 

Hero looks up, “What do you mean?” 

He shakes his head, “It was a long time ago…and I’ve changed a lot since then, but I used to be you. Or…I did what you do. I wasn’t you…obviously.” 

“You worked with Superhero?” Hero asks, disbelievingly. 

He nods and takes a deep breath. “I know what he’s like. Used to think that him pushing me was what was best for me…just like you do. But then…” 

He shakes his head and lifts his shirt up, showing off a long, jagged scar along his abdomen. 

“He told me that…everyone fights dirty and I needed to be prepared for it. So he used a piece of broken glass and…” he makes a slicing motion along the length of the scar and drops the shirt, covering the scar once again. 

Hero looks at the floor, “I’m sorry.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Villain responds. “Anyway, he told me I couldn’t go to the hospital and had to patch it up myself, because there would be a time where I wouldn’t have the hospital as an option. And naturally, I couldn’t take care of it because I was nineteen…it got infected…and he dropped me off at a hospital. No money, no support, and he pretty much erased my existence.

After a few days in a coma, I figured out he wasn’t worth feeling sad over and I made sure that he could never actually succeed in what he’s been planning.” 

“What’s he been planning?” Hero asks, opening a bag of cookies.

Villain scoffs, “Of course he stopped telling people. He wants to branch out. Cover more cities, get more power. More control. That way he can take over everything. Make it so no one steps out of line, no one can do anything he doesn’t approve of. Of course, that’s not how he says it. He just ‘Wants to be able to keep more people safe.’ And the only way he can do that is by ‘Being able to monitor people who risk the safety of others.’ Which could be anyone, by the way, so he’d have to monitor everyone.” 

Hero shakes her head, “Why hasn’t he…I mean. Why does he let you…y’know? How come-”

“He doesn’t think I’m enough of a threat to kill me.” Villain interrupts. 

She nods to herself, “Is he right?” 

Whumper rolls her eyes, “Oh, calm down. This isn’t for him. Not yet at least.'' She walks away from the table and stands in front of Whumpee. “It would be nice if he would wake up though, wouldn’t it?” 

She backhands Whumpee’s cheek, pulling him from his sleep. His eyes fly open, dazed and disorientated.

First, he sees Whumper, standing over him with her hands behind her back, then he sees Caretaker tied up behind her. 

“Let her go!” He shouts, fighting against his restraints. 

Whumper clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “You used to have more respect for me.” 

She shrugs and turns away from him. Caretaker’s eyes follow her back to the table. “It’s fine, I know you’ve done a lot of work to forget all about me. We’ll fix your behavior after a few days, don’t worry.” 

Whumpee shakes his head, seeing the large syringe Whumper picks up from the table. “Don’t…don’t do that. Please.” 

“I just want to get the truth.” she says, walking toward Caretaker. 

For a second, Whumpee relaxes. Whumper wasn’t going to hurt him. She was walking away, she was going to…Caretaker. 

“Stop it!” He shouts, “Stop it! She hasn’t done anything to you!” 

Whumper turns her head, silencing him. “That’s better. Now, you need to shut the fuck up while Caretaker and I chat. Got it?” 

His head hangs, chin hitting his chest and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“He’s always tried to be defiant, but as soon as you remind him who calls the shots, he does whatever you tell him to.” Whumper says, almost fondly. 

Caretaker looks at Whumper, trying to be intimidating, “Let us go.” 

Whumper rolls her eyes and plunges the syringe into Caretaker’s thigh. Caretaker wails in pain, neck straining and fists clenched. The rope across her chest digs into the skin through her shirt, tearing the flesh and drawing blood. 

“Why…are you doing this?” She pants. 

Whumper lets the syringe clatter to the floor and bends down, hands on her knees in front of Caretaker. “We’ll give it a minute to really enter your system then we’ll get started, how does that sound?” 

“Fuck you.” Caretaker spits. 

Whumper clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “So vulgar.” she grabs a fistful of Caretaker’s hair and pulls it, forcing Caretaker to look up at her. “Tell me the truth now, are you ready to start?” 

“No.” Caretaker says, eyes widening. “I don’t want to do this. Make it stop.” 

Whumper lets go of her hair and shakes her head, “I’m afraid I can’t, but don’t worry. The serum is quick acting, it’ll go away in two or three minutes. So let’s get started.” 

“Do you…care about Whumpee?” she asks, standing next to him. 

“Yes.” 

She cups his chin with her hand and pulls his face up to look at Caretaker. “Do you want to keep taking care of him?” 

“No.” Caretaker says, shaking her head frantically. “That’s not what I meant, Whumpee. You have to believe me.” 

“Quiet.” Whumper says. She pulls on Whumpee’s chin, making him look at her. “Did you hear her? She’s on truth serum and she says doesn’t want to keep taking care of you.”  

‘That’s not what I meant!’ Caretaker wants to shout. ‘I want him to get better. Enough so that he can go on his own without needing me!’ but the words don’t come. 

“Tell me, do you want him to live with you anymore?” Whumper asks, running a hand through Whumpee’s hair. 

“No.” she tries to defend herself, to tell him that what she wants doesn’t matter. That if he wants to move out, he can and she’d support him every step of the way, but the words get stuck in her throat. 

A tear wells in Whumpee’s eye. Voice breaking, he asks “Do you want me to go back home with you?” 

“Don’t answer that, it’s a boring question, isn’t it, Caretaker?” Whumper interrupts before she can answer. 

“No.” 

No, it’s not a boring question. Yes, she wants him to go home with her. Yes, she wants to keep taking care of him, yes she wants him to keep living with her. 

“Oh,” Whumper says, pulling away from Whumpee. “Maybe it wasn’t a boring question. Do you want him to stay with me?” She smiles deviously and shakes her head, “That was another silly question, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes.” Caretaker cries. 

Whumpee sobs, leaning forward in his chair. Whumper smirks at Caretaker, pulling Whumpee’s head against her side and patting his back. “I know it’s hard to hear. But you’re a burden to her, so you know it’s best if I let her go and keep you here, right?” 

He nods, “Just let her go. Don’t hurt her, please.” 

Whumper nods, “I wasn’t planning on it. I just needed you to hear her…to make sure you didn’t get any silly ideas about escaping this time. Because now you know how she feels.” 

Whumper pulls away from him, letting his head jerk to the side. She walks up to Caretaker and unties her wrists from the chair, then her ankles. “Let’s get you out of here before anyone realizes you're missing.” she leans in close to her ear and adds, “And before the serum wears off. I don’t want you to say anything to confuse Whumpee.” 

She helps her stand up and leads her out of the room, slamming the door behind them. Caretaker fights against her weakly, “Why would you do that?” 

Whumper shoves her into the back of a van, “I already said. To stop him from getting any silly ideas.” 

“Whumpee?” She asks, taking a step out onto the porch. 

He steps back on reflex, eyes focusing when he looks at her. For a second, he doesn’t recognize her. Then his eyes light with relief and he slumps forward, falling into her arms. “Caretaker.” 

She catches him, hand coming around his back to support him. “What happened?” 

He shakes his head and leans closer to her, arm wrapping tightly around her waist. “I’m fine.” 

“Ok,” she says. “We don’t have to talk about it. Let’s go inside, alright?” He nods and lets her lead him into the house. “Are you hungry? I’ve got a few microwave meals in the freezer or we could order take out.” 

She stops in the living room and peels him off of her, holding him an arms length away. “That blanket is filthy,” she says without thinking. She takes hold of it and tries to unwrap Whumpee from it, not seeing the terror in his face. 

He swats her hand away and pulls it tighter around himself. “Please,” he says, looking at the ground. “Don’t.” 

Caretaker nods and backs away, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

She clears her throat and shifts her feet. “So…dinner?” 

Whumpee looks up from the ground and nods. Caretaker smiles softly and turns into the kitchen. “Ok, I’ve got white cheddar macaroni and cheese or beef ravioli. Which do you want?” 

She walks out of the kitchen, both boxes in hand and holds them out to him. He looks at the boxes and shrugs, “Whichever you don’t want.” 

She laughs and turns the boxes toward her, “I bought them both, so I want both of them.” Whumpee’s face falls and she quickly comes up with a solution. “How about I cook both of them, see which one I want then, and bring the other one out to you. We can eat on the couch like we used to when you’d stay home sick from school? Maybe turn on an old movie?” 

He forces a smile and nods, “That sounds nice.” 

She beams and turns back into the kitchen. “I’ll put these in now. You’ve got enough time to go and change if you want to. I know it’s been a while…but you’ve slimmed down so you might fit in your old clothes again.” 

He stands there for a second before walking down the hallway to his old room. 

There’s dust on the handle when he turns it and the door squeaks open. He walks into his room and turns the lamp on, then turns it off when he sees the dust covering it. The door doesn’t quite close, so he does his best before walking over to the window and opening the blinds, letting the afternoon sun filter in. 

Caretaker tiptoes down the hallway and peeks into Whumpee’s room. He’s standing in front of the window with his eyes closed. He’d dropped the blanket and Caretaker turns around, guilty that she would invade Whumpee’s privacy like that. She takes a deep breath and knocks softly on the door. “Hey, there’s about two minutes left. You almost ready?” She can hear him shuffling around in the room and nods to herself. “Just come out when you’re done, ok? I’ll pull a movie up and be on the couch.” 

There’s a sound of confirmation from him and she turns back down the hallway and into the living room. She picks up the remote and scrolls through the channels before finding something that she and Whumpee used to watch all the time. She clicks on it and turns the volume up. 

The microwave beeps and she hurries into the kitchen to take it out before it beeps again. It burns her hand and she drops it, cursing softly to herself. 

The red sauce splatters all over the floor and nearby cabinets. She curses and picks up the ravioli with her fingers, dropping them back in the bowl. Her fingertips burn by the time she’s done, so she runs her hand under cool water for a minute while she digs through a drawer with the other hand, looking for a washcloth. She runs the cloth under the water and wrings it out in the sink. 

The sauce didn’t have time to dry, so it comes up easily, only staining the rug in front of the sink. She rinses the rag out and hangs it on the faucet, then pulls two forks out of the sink to wash. 

She can hear Whumpee’s footsteps in the living room and yells over to him, “I’m almost done! Just need to wash silverware and I’ll be out! Get comfortable, I think there’s a blanket in the cabinet!” 

He doesn’t respond, but she can hear the cabinet open and something fall out. 

“You ok?” She asks, tilting back to look into the living room. 

Whumpee’s stood in front of the cabinet, eyes locked on whatever fell. He’s in long sleeves and sweatpants, both of which pool around him. 

“Whumpee?” 

His head snaps up to look at her and he nods, “Yeah, just…scared me is all.” 

She smiles and dries the forks off with a towel, then sticks them in the bowls and walks to the living room. 

“You get macaroni tonight.” she says, holding the bowl out to him. “Careful, it’s hot.” 

He takes it and picks up a blanket from the floor. Wrapping it around himself, he sits on the couch and scoots back into the corner of it, knees drawn up to his chest. 

Caretaker looks at him and bites her cheek, debating what to do. She decides to pick up a blanket and sit on the other side of the couch, leg extended so it’s almost touching Whumpee.