Bingo For All!

Love you always;

Thomas

Gemma stared at the letter for a moment. The words at the end, pulling at her heart. 'Love you always,' because it shouldn't mean much. Not from the man who choose an actual cult over his own family.

But, Gemma loved him too. That's why his betrayal hurt so much.

She almost threw the letter away again, before leaving it on her nightstand instead. Told herself she still wasn't going to go.

Thursday morning, she checked her closest for the black dress she wore last year. Right were she left it, ready to be worn again. She told herself she still wasn't going to go.

That evening, Penelope invited her to go hiking on Saturday. Gemma declined. She told herself she still wasn't going to go.

Friday afternoon, she called Addison and asked if she and Henry could watch Thomas, her son, on Saturday. Addison said he was more than welcome to come over, that Arthur would enjoy a sleep over. That way Gemma wouldn't have to worry about getting home before too late. She asked Gemma if everything was alright, Gemma promised she was fine.

But she could no longer tell herself she wasn't going to go.

She still loved Thomas, after all. And maybe, this could be good. Maybe he'd come to his senses, this was going to be the apology she asked for.

Gemma dropped her son off at Addison's Saturday evening, ignoring her friends concerned look on her face when she saw her all dressed up. She didn't tell anyone what she was doing, she told herself it was because they just didn't need to know, but deep down she knew it's so no one could try to talk her out of it.

Because she knew they all would.

Gemma walked into the small yet elegant restaurant — their favourite — and greeted the hostess with a smile.

"Why don't look beautiful," the woman commented. "Do you have someone you're waiting for?"

"Thank you," Gemma replied with a small laugh. "I'm not sure if he's here yet or not…" she scanned the room, failing to catch sight of her husband.

"Do you know the name on the reservation?"

"Thomas Collens."

"Let's see… looks like he hasn't shown up, but I can show you to the table."

Gemma followed her over to a table on the left side of the restaurant, thanking her again as she took her seat. She brought Gemma over a glass of water before returning to her stand. Gemma didn't mind waiting a little, that was fine. She was technically a couple minutes early, surely he was on his way.

Ten minutes, it was actually seven now. The waiter asked her if she was waiting for someone.

"He'll be here soon," she reassured with a smile.

Another ten minutes, Gemma was watching the door like a hawk. Where on Earth was he?

The waiter came back again, politely asking with a look of sympathy saved only for someone you thought was stood up. Certainly how the situation felt.

But it didn't make any sense. Why would Thomas ask her there, when he knew very well how angry she was with him, only to not show up? Was it an empty gesture? Had he thought there was no chance she'd actually show and hadn't bothered to come himself?

She'd like to think she knew him better than that. But, recently, it was felt as if she hardly knew him at all.

Thirty more minutes went by, Gemma stood up. The hostess stopped her briefly on the way out.

"Hey, I don't know who he is, but don't give him another chance," she insisted quietly with a small smile.

Gemma smiled back, thanking her yet again before walking out the door.

She should have just gotten back into her car, driven home to a quiet house. Or Addison's even, where her dear friend would have offered her sympathy at the least before giving her the same advice the hostess had.

Which was good advice. Advice she really should follow. How many 'second chances' had she given Thomas now? How many ended with her even more heartbroken, just like this?

Gemma didn't go back to her car, however. She walked left instead, away from where she parked. Two blocks down, there was a park. Built into the side of the hill. Atop the hill, up a set of wooden stairs, was a platform with picnic tables. There was a railing along the edge, perfect spot for stargazing above the town.

That's where they had their first date. Where Thomas got down on one knee and proposed. Where they went after dinner every anniversary.

She was torturing herself, really. Walking up those steps alone. Leaning on the old metal railing, shivering in the cool evening breeze as she tried to looked at the stars through the tears clouding her eyes. How could some place that once felt so magically now feel so empty?

Gemma wasn't sure how long she stood there, letting tears ruin the make-up she'd spent so much time on. She didn't know how long it had been when she heard someone climb up those steps. When he stood beside her, draping a coat over her shoulders.

"Gemma-"

"I waited for you," she started quietly. "And you didn't show up."

"I'm sorry," Thomas apologized. "I really am Gemma."

"Why even ask me to dinner if you weren't going to be there?"

She turned to look at him. Dressed the same way he did every years. A black button up shirt and the marron jacket protecting her bare arms from the wind. Like he had planned to show up. What could have possibly delayed him for almost an hour?

"Why weren't you there Thomas?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I promise, I didn't want to leave you waiting. Something came up-"

"What?" Gemma cut off loudly. "What could have possibly come up, that was more important than this?"

"Well…" Thomas hesitated. "The High Visionary-"

Those were the last words Gemma wanted to hear come out of his mouth. The made-up title of the God-awful man who took her husband from her. Who filled his head with utter bullshit and convinced him to leave his wife and son. She'd had the displeasure of meeting him a few times. He knew how much Gemma hated him, of course he'd been involved in all this.

"That fucking cult- You left me alone in a restaurant on our anniversary because of that stupid fucking cult?" Gemma snapped. "Are you serious,"

"It was a serious issue," Thomas insisted in his own defence. "I went to speak with him before I left, and he said the situation was dire-"

"The only dire situation you should be worried about is your own marriage, Thomas," Gemma interrupted, pushing her finger against his chest.

"Gemma, you don't understand-"

"You're right Thomas, I really don't. I don't understand why you left me — left our son — because of that fucking nut job!" Gemma could feel the tears rolling down her cheek as she continued. "Has everything we've done together- our entire marriage mean nothing to you?"

"No- of course not!"

"Well it sure feels like it! I can't take this anymore Thomas- I've spent every day waiting for you to come through the front door and tell me you're sorry. That you figured out you were in an actually fucking cult — like I keep saying — and you were ready to come home! This whole time, I've still been waiting for my husband to just come home. Yet every time I see you- whenever I give you a chance to do just that, this is what happens!"

Gemma pulled Thomas' blazer off her shoulders, shoving it back into his hands.

"I can't keep doing this — I cannot keep giving you chance after chance to break my heart again and again. Not when you've made it very clear you'll pick that fucking lunatic over me every time!"

"He's not a lunatic," Thomas insisted quickly. He didn't continue as Gemma's mouth fell open in shock.

"After everything I said, that is the only part you care about!"

That was sealed it for her. This truly was over. He'd hit the final nail in the coffin and there was no coming back from that.

Gemma slid the silver wedding band off her cold finger, hand shaking as she pressed it into Thomas' hand while staring up at him without any love left in her teary eyes.

"If he's really so important to you, than I guess he's the one who should have this, shouldn't he?"

She pushed him back slightly as she turned around, making her way towards the stairs.

He didn't run after her, call her name, say anything. It was just the sound of her own heels against the wooden steps. Firmly leaving her marriage behind.

The walked back to her car was spent trying to stop the crying. Gemma gave up on that the moment she closed the door of the vehicle. Her hands gripped the steering wheel before her forehead fell just above the horn, uncontrollably sobs spilling out with no end in sight.

"Kids? Thought you just had the one?"

"Ah — technically," Bella corrected herself. "But his friend Jonnie's been staying with us for a while now. Both just graduated, actually."

"Ah, well you and your husband must be very proud of them both," the chief remarked, noticing Bella wince just at the mention of her husband.

"How is he?"

"Not great," she muttered under her breath as she leaned back in her chair.

The photo of Jimmy and Jonnie at their graduation stared right back at her. The boys look so happy, so carefree. It was only a couple months ago, felt like an entirety.

She hardly saw them, working all the time. Anything was better than being at home listening to Johnny — her asshole of a husband — complaining about fuck knows what.

Still… she couldn't remember a single time after she saw the pair smile like that.

"Problems with your marriage?" The chief inquired sincerely, setting a drink on Bella's desk with another in his hand.

"He's just — so fuckin' annoying," she admitted with a sigh, taking a sip of the drink. "And keeps making dumb-fuck decisions 'round the house — fuck I don't think he even actually likes me half the time."

That was a generalization of her growing issues with Johnny. The biggest ones she had were absolutely not going to be brought up to her boss, while at the police station full of other cops.

The chief may have known about her family's history, but that was it. And he didn't know that she was fairly confident that Johnny was fucking around with them again.

He promised he'd go straight, for her. Then again, for Jimmy. Then again, for Jonnie. But no. Fucker can't ever hold himself accountable.

"Officer Sharp?" Bella tipped her head up as another officer stood by her desk, unamused by the familiar look on his face as he held a note in his hand.

"Your husband called."

Yep.

"Said he wants you to know that quote; 'you're a bitch.'"

"Thank you, Greg," the chief cut in, waving for the other officer to go.

"Just doin' my job chief," he replied with a cartoony salute before turning to leave.

Not the first time someone delivered such a message to Bella. What she expected every time Greg stopped by her desk at this point.

"Bella, you see the case we got here?" The chief asked, point towards the filled whiteboard behind them. "All these complicated, overlapping issues that aren't quite lining up, that remind you of anything?"

She could feel the photo staring at her again, even with her back turned.

"Being a parent."

"Well… I was gonna say your marriage," the chief admitted as Bella stood up.

"Who the fuck cares about my marriage — it's been fucked a long time and that ain't gonna change anytime soon! He made his fuckin' choice-"

Bella paused, taking a deep breath in an attempt calm herself.

"There's no hope for that, but there's something better out there for those boys, I'm sure."

She turned back to her desk, meeting Jonnie's eyes in the photo. Such a bright kid. He could do a lot, most definitely.

"Bella, if your husband's doing something illegal now, you know we can take care of that," the chief reminded her, one hand resting on her shoulder.

As if she hadn't thought of that before.

"But one thing you gotta remember, our number one rule. Whatever's going on out there, or at home, you can't bring it in here. We got work to do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bella said before finishing off her drink. She took another deep breath, letting out another sigh. "I know."

"And I need you on this case, okay? Just, take a deep breath-"

She just did, but okay.

"-and look over what we have okay? See what we might of missed. I'll give you some peace alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Bella wasn't gonna be able to focus in the slightest on the damn case. She knew that. Course the chief wanted her take on it — her fucking father's work no doubt. Well, whatever sucker he paid to do it.

God — she left one fucked up man just to marry another, didn't she?

Bella collapsed back into her chair, lazily spinning around to face the whiteboard.

She remembered her and Johnny were happy, once. She was new to the force, he was her father's latest scapegoat.

She'd offered him an out, he promised he'd straighten up his act for her. That was true, for a while. Least she thought so.

But for all she knew, Johnny could have been doing shit behind her back this whole time. Wouldn't put it past the asshole.

Jimmy tried to make things better when tensions kept on rising. Never been the sharpest tool in the shed, their boy, but he had a good head on his shoulders.

And Jonnie… poor Jonnie. She couldn't not feel bad for the kid. Parents kicked him out at fifteen — not that he was home much to begin with. Hell, he probably spent more time in their home than Bella did herself.

They were both good kids, deserved a lot better than what they got.

Bella stood up and rested her hand on her hip as she forced herself to actually look at the board the chief asked her to. It was only then she noticed something lacking from the holster at her side.

… Where was her gun?

Jonnie had been practicing exactly what he'd say when Bella got home repeatedly. It would be fine, Johnny was right. He just had to tell her he used the gun to shoot the raccoon in the yard — she hates that raccoon — but he missed.

Easy, right?

Or maybe… he could tell her the truth, just tell her he fucked up and he needed help. Surely she'd understand, right?

Jonnie jumped when Bella opened the door, his planned greeting getting caught up in his throat.

"Uh — hi auntie — home welcome — er… welcome home. Haha… welcome home."

Bella closed the door with a heavy sigh, turning to Jonnie with a look of disappointment she typically saved only for her husband.

"What did you do?"

"I — I uh—"

"Jonnie, what did you do?" She repeated slightly louder as she took a step towards him, planting one hand firmly on his shoulder and forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Did you get involved with the family business?"

"Uh… dog training?"

"We both know there's no fuckin' dog training," she muttered, bringing her other hand to her head. "Your uncle ain't even pickin' up his own shit."

Jonnie could feel himself panicking. Lying shouldn't be this hard — and she didn't seem like she was going to understand… Fuck, she clearly already knew he fucked up. He was fucked. He was so fucked.

"I mean… I'm sure how you talk about him, even in front of Jimmy and I, doesn't really help —"

"Him having people killed doesn't fuckin' help!" Bella snapped back quickly. "He not a good man!"

"You're not a great aunt."

The words fell out of his mouth, Jonnie wished he could have taken them back as he saw Bella's face drop.

But… it was true. Right now he needed help, he had for a long time, and she was too busy complaining about her husband to see that. Like always.

"Are you seriously gonna tell me that, after I took you in?" she questioned, finger pointed at Jonnie as she spoke. "After your own god-awful parents kicked you out, and I welcome you into my home. Treated you like my own son-"

"Is that really saying much when you're never around for him either?" Jonnie cut off.

What the fuck was he doing? Why didn't he just keep his mouth shut? Was too late now, like he'd opened the floodgates, everything bothering him pouring out with no stop in sight.

"You're never fuckin' here! Not for Jimmy, or me! And when you are, you and uncle Johnny are just screaming at each other the whole fuckin' time! I ain't saying he's any better — we all know he's got problems — but you working late every day and leaving Jimmy and I here to deal with it hardly seems like good parenting! Fuck… you're both toxic as hell — why we're trying to find a way outta here! Why we went and talked to grandpa-"

Jonnie cut himself off, biting down hard on his tongue.

"No," Bella said quietly. "No — Jonnie do not tell me you went and spoke to my dad."

Tears were building in his eyes now, why was he such a fucking idiot?

"I'm sorry — Jimmy thought it was good idea! We needed a way to make money —"

"Fuck — Jonnie! What were you thinking?" she questioned, taking hold of his shoulders again. "You — please just tell me you didn't hurt anyone."

"Well… no. Not at first…" Jonnie rolled back on his heels, the events of the evening playing out in his head again. "It was just suppose to be some off the books undertaken. That's what grandpa Albert said."

"I know what that means," Bella insisted, her grip on his shoulders tightening. "Jonnie, did you kill someone?"

"No — he was already dead!" Jonnie insisted quickly. "We were just suppose to bury the body — that's it."

"Okay…"

"But… then I shot an owl."

"Owl — okay, who gives a fuck about an owl?"

"And a rabbit."

"Okay-"

"And — and then a park ranger."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

Bella let go of Jonnie to put her head in her hands, pacing back and forth around the front door.

"But — but he didn't die!" Jonnie quickly added. "They said he was just in the hospital now."

"No — no he's dead," Bella said without looking up.

"What?"

"Died just a few hours ago—"

The doorbell rang, making Jonnie jump. Bella glanced towards the door right beside her before realizing it was the dumbass doorbell Johnny put on the back door.

"I'll get it," Jonnie volunteered quietly.

"Fuck, sure. I'll just — get chairs from the garden or some shit…"

What she needed was some air, a chance to breath. The time to figure out how on earth she was gonna fix all this…

And to think if what Jonnie said about her was right.

She left the door open, looking at the lawn chairs on their front porch. She could hear Jonnie start yelling back inside.

"Jim — what are you doin' — why the fuck do you have a gun?"

"Shut up Jonnie — just shut up and get on the ground!"

"What the fuck —"

"I said shut up!"

No — no Jimmy what are you doin'?

Bella slid back into the house, her back pressed against the wall as she crept down the hallway towards the living room and back door.

"Jimmy, we're fuckin' friends, aren't we — ahh!"

There was a small thud as Jonnie was hit with something. Bella made it to the drawer where she left her gun, slowly opening it and pulling out the weapon before trying to carefully peer around the corner and get a look at the boys.

"We are friends, that's why I'm doing this buddy. It's for your own good. And mine."

"Wh— the fuck are you gonna do?"

…

"Where's mom hidin'?"

Bella believe there'd be a day when her father put a hit out on her. But never did she think he'd have the fucking nerve to ask her own son to do it.

"Hidin' — she just stepped outside!"

Bella finally got a good view, seeing Jonnie stand up while Jimmy pointed a gun at him.

"Woah — you can't kill her man! Look, I know she's got her issues, but she's way better than you're fuckin' dad!"

Least she still had that going for her.

"She's a cop," Jimmy spat out, Bella could see his hand shaking as he waved the gun in Jonnie's face. "And we picked our side."

"Well we fuckin' picked wrong," Jonnie insisted. "I know… we had the in with your grandpa that we could use and all but — fuck Jimmy. I shot a park ranger and now he's dead!"

Jimmy lowered his gun slightly, Bella was about to step in but paused when she heard another set of footsteps.

"That's enough, Jonnie,"

Her husband came in, wielding a sawed-off shotgun that he pointed right at Jonnie.

"Uncle Johnny?"

"Get down."

Fuck.

Bella slowly backed down the hall. She was outnumbered now — no clue what Jimmy would do if it came down to it, and she really didn't wanna find out.

If Johnny still wanted to act like for a second that he was anywhere close to being a 'good father' like he claimed — he'd leave the boys alone and deal with her himself. And she'd be waiting for him.

It was pouring out, Bella crept back into the once lively garden. The family's pride and joy once. These days, it grew weeds more than anything else. Water drops smeared across her glasses, mud slid under her boots.

The door opened again, her grip on the gun tightened.

"You never did know what you were doin', did ya?" Johnny as he stepped out with the gun of his own. He met her eyes quickly, leaving a good distance between the two of them. "My love."

"Don't call me that," Bella insisted coldly, focusing on the barrel of his gun. "You haven't called me that in years."

Johnny didn't say anything, didn't move. Just kept staring her down.

"You're not the man I married anymore," she continued, lowering her gun to her side. "You're a piece of shit. A fuckin' bad person, Johnny. And and even worse father."

He stayed silent, Bella kept going.

"And maybe we both fucked up. But I'm willin' to change, for them." She pointed towards the house. To the boys inside she was praying weren't gonna do anything stupid. "But that ain't possible if you keep fuckin' everything up. You gotta go. And that can either be to a jail cell—" She raised her gun up again, pointing it right at Johnny's chest. "Or six feet under. And I'll finally be the one who burying bodies 'round here."

"Sounds like those kids might have to bury two bodies tonight," Johnny remarked, straightening the aim of his own weapon.

"Sounds really fuckin' depressing."

Bella turned her attention back to her husband's eyes for the first time. For a moment, she saw him.

Not the maniac standing in the pouring rain with a sawed-off shotgun pointed at her chest, no.

She saw the man she met outside a bar. Who just got the shit beat out of him and still walked out with a smile plastered on his face as she offered him help. Who showed up with flowers at her door the next day, asking to take her out to dinner as a thank you.

The man who cried when she showed him the positive test, asked her to marry him on the spot. Who cried even more as a tiny baby wrapped his hand around his finger. The man who called her 'my love' and ment it. Who took their son to school in the morning with a smile on his face. Picked her up after a long shift at work and surprised her with dinner.

For just that small, brief moment, she saw the man she'd truly fell in love with.

"You ever think we could put these guns down, and start over?"

Johnny cocked the gun.

The man she loved with gone.

"Yeah, me neither."

Her finger pressed down on the trigger the same time a desperate voice cut through the air.

"Auntie, Uncle! Stop —"

So many things happened in such a short amount of time.

Johnny dropped to the ground, a bullet wound to the back of his head leaving blood pouring out. Jonnie — right between him and her and the worse moment possible. Laying on the wet, overgrown grass now stained red.

Jimmy came stumbling out the back door, gun in hand. He froze in place, eyes moving from his father to his best friend.

Bella slid to her knees, cradling Jonnie's head in her lap as she tried to slow the bleeding.

"Fuck — Jonnie no…"

"…Auntie?"

"Oh thank fuck!"

His voice was small and weak — but there none the less.

"It's okay — it'll be okay Jonnie…"

Jimmy was suddenly at he side, staring down at Jonnie before over at her. Silent tears feel from his eyes, he looked so young again. He was turning to his mother, desperate for any sort of help.

"It's gonna be okay…"

Bella sat silently in the chair beside Jonnie's hospital bed, Jimmy paced up and down the room.

"It's all my fault," he mumbled. "It's my fault…"

"Jimmy-"

"I said we should join the mafia — I dragged him in this with me — It's all my fault —"

Bella stood up.

"Jimmy-"

"What if he doesn't wake up? What if — if he's dead mom? What if I got my best friend killed? Wh—"

"Jimmy!" Bella cut off, forcing him to stop with one hand on his shoulder. She took a deep breath, turning him to face her.

"My boy, this is not your fault. I'm not gonna let you blame yourself for any of this shit when it was me and your father who fucked up."

Her mind trailed back to the last conversation she had with Jonnie, his words playing over again, sinking in deep.

"I should have been around more. If I would have done somethin' about your fuckin' father sooner — we could have avoided all this. You two wouldn't of turned to the mafia just for a way out. And I'm really, really fuckin' sorry Jimmy, I am. Sorry I've been a shitty mom and-"

Jimmy cut her off this time, wrapping his arms around his mother in a tight hug, resting his head on her shoulder as tears poured from his eyes.

"We'll figure this out now," she promised softly, hand resting on the back of his head. "Promise you."

There was a soft knock on the door, Bella and Jimmy pulled apart as she welcomed whoever in.

They'd expected a doctor or nurse — not the all too familiar well dressed man holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Dad."

"Grandpa."

Bella grabbed Jimmy by the arm and pulled him back, placing herself between both boys and Albert.

"You got some fuckin' nerve showing up here."

"I bring no harm, my girl," he insisted quickly, raising his hands as if to prove he wasn't carrying a weapon. "Just, came to offer my condolences. To say, I'm sorry. For how things unfolded."

He held out the flowers to Bella, dropping them on the nearby table when she wouldn't take them.

"Didn't have to end this way."

"Sure didn't," Bella agreed, watching Albert like a hawk as his eyes glanced over to Jonnie, then to Jimmy.

"Shouldn't of had to lose your father now, boy—"

"Don't you fuckin' talk to him," Bella cut off, stepping over to block his view of Jimmy. "You don't get to talk to him like that when this is all you're fuckin' fault, you hear me?"

"Mom-" Jimmy put a hand on his mother's shoulder. She took a slow, deep breath.

"Just get the hell out of here, Albert," she insisted coldly. "Before I have you arrested."

"Alright, I understand when I'm not welcome," he said, taking a few steps back towards the door. "But I have just one small request, then I'm gone."

"Fuck — What?"

"Smell the flowers, Bella," his said, gesturing to the bouquet on the table. "Is all I ask for. To make sure they've been growing right."

Bella glanced down at the flowers, picking them up in her hands. Pretty purple ones, she'd seen her father grown rows and rows of them before. She'd never been allowed to touch them. Couldn't touch any of his plants. Felt like he loved them more than her.

"That's all ya want?"

"All I ask," he repeated, hand over his heart.

Bella brought the flowers up to her face, looking down at the innocent arrangement of yellow and purple. This was a common 'gift', her father gave people. One she knew all too well.

She dropped the flowers to the floor, stomping down hard with her dirty boot as she stared her father down.

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?"

Albert smiled, Bella saw the flash of a silver knife flick out at his wrist. By the time she reached to where her gun should have been at her hip, she heard a shot fire and watched the bullet his Albert's hand.

He stumbled back, Bella quickly took the gun from Jimmy's shaking hands and shot him a second time.

Albert's bleeding hand grasped at the whole in his chest as he silently dropped to his knees, then face-down on the floor. Bella pulled Jimmy in close, kissing the top of his head as she watched blood seep out from underneath her father's lifeless body.

Clouds rolled in, it was getting a little colder. Again, annoying, very different from the warm weather they'd been having, but they had coats they could they could use. (Though it it took a lot of convincing to get David to put his on)

Then a light snowfall. Sure, why not? Why wouldn't it just suddenly start snowing? Even still, that was still manageable. By the time it started they were more than half way there, it'd slow them down a little bit but they'd probably still make it before dark.

Bloom didn't hate it. Not his favourite weather, but the cooler temperatures and soft snow had it's perks. That was the attitude most of them had. Everyone except the party's one and only bard, in fact.

Jacques had already been in a bit of a sour mood from their recent fight against a maniac man with magic that turned many of the locals in the previous town into animals. Jacques was the only one hit by one of these spells during the fight, resulting in a very angry bird stealing the spell caster's staff.

When they'd (finally) won, everyone affected by his spells had returned to normal. Jacques couldn't wait to critique everyone's fighting the moment he had his normal body back.

They were all silently debating which one of them had to tell him of the large, brown bird wings stuck to his back (it ended up being Bensai).

They tried about four different healers and such around the town, none had a clue how that ended up being an after affect of being turned into a bird. No one else involved had anything from their animal form remain. Just Jacques.

A cleric and the local temple and suggested they visit an old friend of hers, a druid living just outside the nearby town who also knew the man who'd cursed Jacques. Said they might be the best bet the group had.

So, maybe Jacques' growing annoying at just about everything, the weather included, was a little warranted. Especially after David had to help him cut holes in the back of his coat for the wings to fit through.

Bloom had been watching him struggle with the new wings since he got them, and especially during this walk. It was interesting, how little Jacques seemed to be able to move them by himself. It was never a conscious choice, least from Bloom's perspective, but a reaction to Jacques normal way of moving.

He'd point something out, the wings raised a little. He crossed his arms, disappointed in whoever, they folded in. He was startled, they'd fan out widely as if to prepare to take off.

Jacques hadn't tried flying with them, much to Clark and Megan's disappointment. Though the others all though that was the best, considering the lack of control he seemed to have.

Bloom did feel a little bad for the guy, having to suddenly adjust to essentially having two extra limbs. Didn't stop him from laughing when he accidentally smacked David with them, or when the wind caught his wings and knocked Jacques off his feet. But hey, Bloom still helped him up after.

"We better be almost there," Jacques said, brushing snow off himself.

"We're close," Megan promised, holding tightly to her hat so it wouldn't blow away (like it had twice already. Thankfully David was quick)

"Not too far left," Bensai added positively. "If it were just a bit clearer out, I think we would be able to see the town."

The group all slowed to a stop as the next strong gust of window blew the now suddenly much heavier snow right into their faces.

"Seriously — where the hell did the weather come from?" David questioned, having to yell quite loudly for the others to just barely hear him over the wind.

"I don't know if we're gonna make it much farther in this," Bloom pointed out, loud as he could.

He was struggling just to stay on his feet at this point, waving for everyone to follow him off the side of the path and gather up. He kept a good eye on Jacques, noticing Bensai doing the same.

The group stood close together behind the nearby tree for the smallest bit of shelter. Didn't help that much, but a little better than nothing.

"What now?" Clark asked, now holding Megan's hat tight against his chest after it fell off for the third time.

"Is there anywhere we can wait this out?" Megan wondered, looking around them at what had essentially become a white void. It was near impossible to seem anything more than five feet around them.

"This isn't a normal storm," David insisted suddenly. "Definitely magic involved."

"How can you be so sure?" Bensai inquired sincerely. "I mean, I agree it's quite strange and sudden, but the weather can be naturally unpredictable."

"Can be," David said. "But what really are the odds that — after nothing but nice weather — this happens the moment we leave town?"

"We do have a history of pissing off magic users," Bensai agreed, raising his arm as the group was assaulted by a surprise wave of hail.

"I'm starting to agree with the magic thing!" Megan remarked, her and Clark attempting to use David as a shield from the flying ice.

Bloom turned his back to the wind after being pelted in the face. He could of swore the chunks of ice were getting larger — this had to be magical. The group naturally shuffled closer together, Bensai's hand rested on Bloom's shoulder.

Bensai glanced to his right to check on Jacques, noticing how quiet he'd been this whole time. It was right as he looked over he saw a flash off brown as Jacques new wings raised up rather quickly.

Bensai was quick to grab his arm, worried he might fall again even with the wind behind them. He hadn't been expecting Jacques not only to seem to be in control of the wings, but to bring them up and around everyone.

The others we even less prepared, Clark practically jumping into David as the wings brushed against him. Megan stumbled into Bloom, who stumbled into Bensai, who managed to stable both of them with one hand while keeping the other holding onto Jacques.

"The hell-" David cut himself off, glancing towards Jacques.

He swayed slightly, even with Bensai helping. David quickly grabbed his other arm in an attempt to help his stand more stably .

"The hell are you doing?"

"Trying something?" Jacques said, almost too quiet for Bensai to hear.

Well, it was working. Their friend's wings (which were apparently much larger that Bensai had thought) seem to form a perfect dome around them, shielding them from the snow and ice still raging.

Bensai didn't have the slightest idea how wings worked exactly, especially ones given to you by some sort of magic, but he was certain Jacques wasn't feeling nothing from the intense weather. Especially considering this left his back still exposed to everything.

He tried to gauge from Jacques expression how he was doing, and was met with an unmoving stare of focus.

The task of actually controlling the wings seem to require complete attention, best not to disrupt that too much. Unless it looked to be causing him pain, of course.

They all could hear the wind die down. When Jacques wings dropped back to his side, the weather had returned to a gentle snowfall and light breeze. They could see their intended destination not too far off, the outlines of small buildings in the fog.

"Are you alright?" Bensai asked Jacques, who'd placed a hand on his chest and seemed to be breathing heavily.

"Fine," Jacques insisted rather unconvincingly.

Bensai and David had to step forward quickly when his wings raised to shake off some of the snow.

"We should get into town now," Bensai suggested. "Before anything else happens and to make sure you are alright."

Jacques said something in protest the trailed off into begrudgingly agreeing. Clark took the lead, Bensai and David walked right alongside Jacques while Bloom and Megan followed just a couple paces behind.

Bensai noticed Jacques started shivering as the walked, more so than before. He silently removed his own coat and draped it over Jacques back, careful of his wings. He brushed off the other man's insistent that it was unnecessary with a smile.

They reached the town gate, the guard on duty didn't question them much outside genuine concern for them walking in such weather, and was quick to direct them to the local inn.

Jacques insisted they just head straight to the druid they'd come to see, but the others shut that down by reminding him it was another twenty or so minutes away. It was already getting dark out, and everyone was tired and cold. Especially him.

They managed to get two rooms at the inn, Bensai and David escorted Jacques up to one of them while the others promised to bring food up shortly after.

"We should probably make sure your wings aren't damaged," Bensai suggested once the trio was in the warmth of their new temporary lodging.

"I'm fine," Jacques insisted as he sat on one of the beds, taking off Bensai's jacket though he was clearly still quite cold.

The brown feathers which made up his wings had a layer of frost over them. They were tucked tightly, almost wrapping themselves around Jacques. Looked so much smaller than they had back out in the storm. Was changing size also part of this magic?Or were they really just deceptively large?

"You're still shaking," David pointed out bluntly before throwing his own coat over Jacques head. "And the wings are like — apart of your body right now, aren't they?"

Jacques pulled the coat down, letting it rest across his lap while rolling his eyes at David.

"Yes, obviously."

"Then it really would be best if someone took a look at them," Bensai insisted. "I mean, I don't know that much about wings, but I could at least check for obvious damage."

"Fine," Jacques gave in with a sigh.

"Thank you. Can you trying bringing them out again?"

Jacques glance over his shoulder at one of his wings, slowing unfolding both out with a slight look of surprise on his face.

"I… actually can."

"Least you seemed to learn how to control them," David pointed out positively. This only after he'd taken several steps away from Jacques to avoid possibly getting hit with one of the wings again.

Bensai examined Jacques left wing incredibly carefully with clear hesitancy to actually touch it. He wasn't sure what exactly he was looking for, Bloom would probably had been more equipped deal with something like this, but Bensai believed he'd at least be able to notice any visible damage.

"So how'd you do that?" David questioned suddenly as he leaned against the wall by the door.

"Do what?"

"The wing-shield thing," David elaborated, using his arms to mime wings. "I mean you'd smacked me in the face with them while trying to point out something like ten minutes before."

"How do you know that wasn't on purpose?" Jacques teased, met with an eye roll from David.

"Because you would have done it before then. Seriously, can just control them now?"

"Kind of?" Jacques replied, looking back and forth at both wings. "I just got the idea and then they… did it, I guess. Was honestly as surprised as everyone else that it worked."

"I think you should be alright after warming up a bit more," Bensai reported, Jacques' wings folded back in. "But maybe no more using them as a shield. And perhaps let Bloom take a look as well, just incase?"

"I trust your judgment."

"Well I appreciate that, but I do believe he's more knowledgeable on the subject than I am," Bensai pointed out as he sat on the bed beside Jacques. David sat down on the other side.

"Hmm, I wonder…" Jacques spread his wings out behind the pair, the right one moved forward and pushed David off the bed before both dropped back down.

"Yep, sure can."

"You're an ass, you know that right?" David asked as he picked himself back up.

"Was just testing if I could move them separately," Jacques insisted with a grin. "I'm starting to not mind the wings nearly as much now. Oh, and since you're up, why don't you go and see if the others are on their way up with food yet?"

"Yeah, I'll come back and throw something at you, don't worry."

"It's busy, but in a fun way," Megan agreed. "I'd wear it."

"Same."

"You both are ridiculous," David muttered, hand on his head.

"He's just mad 'cause he couldn't pull it off," Clark whispered loudly in Megan's ear, making her laugh as David rolled his eyes.

"Alright everyone, let's get moving," Bensai called out from the front of the room, Clark and Megan kept snickering as David walked away from them rather quickly.

"He makes it so easy," she remarked as she dropped the ring into her pocket.

Clark's reply was cut off as the whole room started moving. Megan looked up at the splitting rocks above, elbowing Clark to draw his attention to it.

The fighter looked up for about a second before grabbing Megan and pulling her to the ground. The ceiling gave away quickly, Megan shrunk against the stone floor with her hands protecting her neck. Clark was knelt above her, his heavily armoured body providing a handy shield against the falling rocks.

"Is it over?" she asked hesitantly as the pair sat up.

"Think so," Clark said, brushing off the small rocks and dust that didn't slid off his armor when he sat up. He picked up the somehow still lit torch he'd dropped before focusing back on Megan. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," Megan said, looking around again

The central part of the tomb they were in was surprisingly undamaged, though now cut off from the rest of the crypt by large stone walls that cut the room into sections. If they'd been on the other side of the dead guy's coffin, they'd have been crushed.

Definitely lucky, to say the least.

"How did that even happen?" Clark questioned as he walked over to the rocks blocking them from the entrance. "Like — ceilings don't just randomly collapse like that — do they?"

"Well, they can," Megan remarked. "But I don't think this was random."

"Another trap," Clark realized, looking towards the open coffin now filled with stones. "Guess he knew he had really valuable stuff he was gonna be buried with."

"And had a lot of money to waste after he died," Megan added.

Seriously, with how much went into this mine-field of a crypt, this guy had to be loaded. Or selfish and just trying to make sure his kids didn't get any of the wealth. Considering it was allegedly his son paying them to get the ring, it was probably both.

"Oh — do you still have the ring?" Clark asked.

Megan checked her pocket, quickly confirming the old ring was still there, and no more damaged than it was when they found it.

"Ugh, losing this would have made today just perfect," Megan remarked as she returned it to the safety of her pocket.

Again, this whole thing had been hell. If they lost the one thing they came her for and all the undead monsters and traps and other nonsenses was for nothing, she'd probably lose it. They all probably would.

But that wasn't the issue. The issue was actually getting out of there now.

"Lord Whatever-his-name-was went through all the effort with the traps and the monsters to keep everyone out, only to trap us in here right when we want to leave," Clark pointed out, again gesturing to the coffin. "Make up your mind, dude!"

"We gotta find a way back through here somehow," Megan muttered as she walked alone the piled stones blocking the archway they'd come through.

Almost right where David had been standing… but surely he made it out of the way in time. Of course he did — he was standing very close to Bensai, and the two of them were the fasted members of their group for certain.

They were probably fine.

"Can't you just, you know —" Clark made random hand movements ment to represent magic (though it look absolutely nothing like what Megan actually did for hers) "— and get us out of here?"

"I'm out of spells, Clark," Megan pointed out, now the second time had to she mentioned that today. "At least any that would be strong enough. And don't you have a giant sword you're constantly swinging through rocks?"

"Oh yeah, I do." Clark reached for his bag of swords, Megan could see his smile drop suddenly.

"What?"

Clark looked down around his belt, patting along his waist. "Uh… I can't find the bag."

"What do you mean you can't find it?"

"I mean it's not here Megan — I can't find my swords!" Clark shouted back, switching to looking on the floor for the bag.

"Oh my Gods Clark — how did you lose your entire bag of swords?" Megan questioned through an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know!" Clark admitted, crawling on his hands and knees to continue his frantic search. "I'm sure it's around here somewhere — I mean it has to be."

Megan started looking around the room herself. You'd think the bag would stand out, but she couldn't see a thing other than rocks, stones, more rocks, and bones.

"Are you sure you had it with you?" A stupid question, of course Clark had it with him. When had ever not had his bag of swords?

"Absolutely," Clark insisted sternly. "I know I had it right before—" he brought one hand up and then down a few times to mime the falling rocks. "— all that because David was using one and then he put it back before we went to look at the ring."

"Well did David take it?"

"… I don't think so?"

"What do you mean — you don't think so? Did he take it or not?"

"I don't remember!" Clark admitted, sitting on his knees and looking up at Megan. "I have a terrible memory okay — you know this! So either David has it, and he'll cut through the wall — or it's around here somewhere and we have to find it so we can cut through the wall!"

Because it had to be around here somewhere. Clark needed is swords, after all. That was his thing — he was the sword guy. He wasn't the brightest member of their group by any means, but he knew swords. He was good with swords — and he had a lot of them. A lot of them that he didn't want to think about having to replace. So — unless David had them — they had to be somewhere nearby.

And yeah, his memory wasn't the best when it came to details. There was only so much he could focus on at once. And between David at the ring, at that moment he chose to focus on the ring. He was pretty sure David gave the bag back. But he'd been wrong before.

"I can't believe you lost the bag…" Megan muttered again as she looked around the coffin.

Normally, Clark could handle the others teasing. It was all good fun, and they were usually right aways. But in that exact moment, Megan's comment weren't helping the building stress as he failed to find the bag anywhere around them.

"Megan, how would you feel if you lost your dagger or spell book?" he asked her seriously, not lifting his head up to face her. "Because I think you'd feel a lot like how I feel right now."

She was silent for a moment, Clark started trying to move over some of the rocks around the back of the coffin.

"Okay, yeah that would suck," she agreed quietly. "I'm sorry Clark. We'll find the bag, I'm sure."

"Thank you."

They continued their search in mostly silence. Clark finally managed to push back the large rock, eyes lighting up when he saw part of the brown sash.

"Megan! I found it!"

"Oh thank Gods," Megan breathed as she approached.

The bag itself was wedged between two other rocks, Clark started yanking on the sash to try and pull it free.

"Please don't bring the whole place down," Megan begged, watching the rocks above Clark.

She could see them start to slip, clutching her dagger in one had while the other pushed forward. A ghost-like hand grew out of hers, catching the falling rock and dropping beside Clark with a large thud.

"Thanks," Clark said before immediately focusing back on the bag.

"Clark I swear to God if you bring that all down on us I'll stab you—"

"Got it!"

Clark help up the sword bag in victory, having just enough time to stand up before quickly shuffling backwards and pushing Megan with him. Three more, much large rocks fell down from the wall, right where they had been standing.

"Didn't bring them down on us," he remarked with a smile as he turned to face Megan.

"Good job — now get out the stupid sword so we can get out of here!"

Clark obeyed her loud request, fishing through his bag in search of the sword in question. It was while he did that, the pair were surprised by a small yet loud explosion from the blockage at the entrance.

It left an opening behind, Megan could see David and Bensai through it, standing a short distance back.

"Oh hey David, hey Bensai!" Clark greeted as the dust settled. "One second… here it is!"

Clark finally pulled out the giant sword, Megan followed him to the new hole in the wall as he offered to cut it open bigger for the other two.

"Are you both alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, minor issues at most," David replied a little too quickly (Though they did both look fine, at the least) "You two?"

"We're all good," Clark replied while he worked. "Well, Megan threatened to stab me with her dagger, but she didn't actually do it, so it's fine."

"It's… a long story," Megan muttered vaguely while shaking her head. Of course that was the one thing he chose to mention. "I'll explain later."

With the opening now larger, Bensai and David easily stepped through. David pointed out the wall he believed blocked where Jacques and Bloom were, Bensai helped Clark with the giant sword and the two began cutting there way through.

Megan and David stood back, seemingly both looking out for any more falling rocks. They didn't have any more problems however, and found Bloom and an injured Jacques in the space behind the stones.

Bensai went to help Jacques, letting Bloom go out ahead.

"I'd keep your distance," he immediately warned David. "Turns out that arrow was just a little bit poisonous."

"Oh believe me, figured that one out," David muttered while turning to Jacques. Megan sneaked a peak at the new bandages on his shoulder, glad the poison was thankfully dealt with properly.

"That second one hit me, you know?" David reminded him, met with a strong glare from the bard.

"You're still a dead man."

"Not if you can't catch me!" David scurried up towards the exit before anything else could be said.

"Hey — David! Wait!" Clark shouted as he and Megan both ran after their friend.

"Slow down you moron!" Megan called, she was pretty sure David started running faster.

They weren't going to catch up with him — but there was a chance he made a wrong turn on the way back through and got himself lost. And everyone just really wanted to get out of here at this point. So they tried to follow awayways.

Clark and Megan had technically lost sight of David, but confirmed he wasn't too far ahead at the sound of a familiar, shrill scream. Both hurried up and rounded the last corner quickly, their sudden worry dropped at the sight of their party elf laughing as David tried to catch his breath.

Clark looked back and forth between Bloom and the path they'd taken, Megan was pretty sure she could see the gears turning in his head.

He tried to find a pulse, something he'd never done before. Which lead to blindly moving his fingers around the not burned part of Donnie's neck and just hoping he felt something as the tears built up in his eyes. Staring at the burns that'd gone through Donnie's jacket sleeve to his arm. One that went up his neck and reached his face. Not to mention the blood — god why was there so much of it?

"Fuckin' hell…"

There were hundreds of people around them now, all screaming over top of each other. Explosions tended to draw confused and panicked crowds. Frankie had tuned out every last one of them with soul focus on his brother. So why did that voice seep through?

There was a hand on his shoulder, someone bending down beside him.

"Hey — let me help. I got first-aid shit."

Any other moment, Frankie would have told them to kick rocks. But right now? He still couldn't find a fucking pulse.

Frankie moved only slightly to Donnie's side, giving the red haired stranger just enough space to crouch in front of him. They quickly brought their own hand to Donnie's neck.

"He's still breathin' —" Now Frankie could too "— But these burns are bad. Don't know how much I can do— fuck we'll find out."

Frankie watched him carefully as the stranger explained what he was doing out loud as he did it. Didn't sound like any professional medical bullshit he'd heard before, it really boiled down to 'doing this so he hopefully doesn't die' and at that point, that's all Frankie wanted to hear.

The man really didn't look like a medical professional. He seemed close to Frankie and Donnie in age, looked pretty similar to them too. That meaning old clothes who were probably a size or so too big for him and his hair was uneven in the back like he cut it himself. Nothing about him scream doctor or nurse, but seemed like he was doing something for Donnie. More than Frankie could.

"Frankie?"

The timid voice came from the mess of them behind him that Frankie had been ignoring so well. Was much harder to tune out your own name, however, making him glance over his shoulder. His eyes landed on a familiar little boy with curly ginger hair, now singed at the bottom, missing his tricycle and shakily walking towards Frankie as tears fell down his face.

He looked lost and alone. Something Frankie new all to well.

"Rupert — fuck — come here kid."

He turned around and got up to his knees as Rupert hurried over, burring his face into Frankie's coat while crying out incoherent words against him.

Frankie didn't know what the fuck you were suppose to do when a child was involved in an explosion (because of you) and wouldn't stop crying. After doing his best to get Rupert away from that bomb, he lost track of him in the chaos that followed. Then he found Donnie…

But, somehow after all that, he still ended being who this child came to for help. He'd be damned if he didn't at least try. Even if he was trying to deal with his own shit too.

"My dad — he's dead! Frankie's he's dead!"

That was the first thing Frankie had actually understood.

"I'm sorry Rupert," he whispered back, holding the young boy tightly as he continued to sob. "I'm really fuckin' sorry."

What else could he say? He'd done this. He gave Rupert the bomb, he told him to come here, he was so adamant on getting this done quickly, he got everyone he hurt, he killed this kid's dad, he did this to own brother.

They were both crying now, Frankie quieter than Rupert. He didn't want to turn back around. He couldn't even look a Donnie. What if he was dead? What if Frankie killed the only family he had?

"Hey!"

The stranger tapped his fingers against Frankie's shoulder, forcing him to look back as he kept his arms around Rupert. He was a little surprised to see tears running down the man's face too, even as he spoke surprisingly calmly.

"I've done what I can, his breathing's better I think, but should find a doctor or some-"

"Do we look like we can afford some doctor?" Frankie question bluntly, voice harsh yet faulting. "We go to any hospital they're gonna arrest us before he gets any help anyways!"

That didn't make any sense to that man — obviously. He couldn't know who they were. What they'd done. But Frankie was beyond trying to make sense to anyone. Donnie wasn't dead, but he still needed help. Help they couldn't afford — help that if they tried to get would end up getting them arrest for sure.

Frankie could say it was all him — that Donnie had nothing to do with any of it. The money would still be a problem — but maybe they had enough in their hidden savings? If that doesn't get taken when he's arrested. Fuck, no option looked remotely good-

"Then will get him help somewhere else," the stranger insisted as he stood up suddenly. "Rupert — mom at home?"

Rupert pulled away from Frankie for the first time, he's tears slowly only to give the other man a confused look and hesitant answer.

"I think so… How do you know my mom?"

"She's my mom too," the other man muttered. "It's a lot to explain — but if we ain't taking him to the hospital, we gonna go somewhere. Before the paramedic's start takin' people there regardless.

It was Frankie's turn to be confused now. But this guy — Rupert's brother? — was right, they didn't have time for that. Donnie wasn't going to get any help back at the strip club either. So fuck — guess they were going with this guy.

"You're the brother dad told me about!" Rupert realized as he let go of Frankie, trying to rub away the tears still falling from his eyes as he looked up at the other man. "You're also Rupert."

"Sure am kid," he confirmed, offering his hand towards Frankie to help him to his feet. "We're gonna have to carry him there."

Frankie took his hand and got up off his knees. The two of them stood on either side of Donnie, carefully pulling him up and holding him between themselves. His limp arms draped around their shoulders.

"He needs help," Rupert pointed out, looking at the burns going up Donnie's neck. "Are we taking him to the house?"

"Yes, we are," his older brother — Rupert too apparently — confirmed again.

"Think you can lead the way, Rupert?" Frankie asked, just to give the kid some task to focus on.

Rupert nodded quickly, taking the job seriously as he pointed forward and started walking into the crowd surrounding them.

It was difficult at first, getting through all of the other panicked people trying to help the injured. Most of it was spent just trying not to lose sight of little Rupert. Frankie's bad leg probably didn't help either. He was relieved when they broke free and little Rupert started guiding them down quiet, empty alleyways.

With the sounds of all the chaos fading behind them, Rupert — the older one — spoke up again for the first time, to ask Frankie a question.

"What's your name?"

"Frankie," he answered honestly. "He's Donnie, my brother."

"I see. Rupert — the first one I guess. Rupert's older brother — didn't know they named him after me. Was gone for a long time… only just got back a few days ago actually." He let out a small laugh, Frankie saw tears rolling down his face again. "Haven't gotten to see my mom yet actually — fuck I think she thinks I'm dead."

"She does," little Rupert confirmed. "Dad told me you were alive still though, and that I should find you. He also told me to tell mom he's sorry… and Merry Christmas."

He listed off his father's final words with little emotion left in his voice, not look back at the other's as he spoke. Just staring at the path ahead of them. Frankie couldn't tell if he was crying again or not.

"Yeah… tried speaking to him few day ago," Rupert muttered, using his free hand to rub away his own tears.

"I'm sorry 'bout your dad," Frankie offered quietly.

Sorry it's my fault.

He wouldn't be doing all this for him and Donnie if he knew the truth. Frankie should tell him, tell him he was helping the guy who got his father killed. He would find out eventually regardless, little Rupert would say something about the bomb for sure.

But, Donnie needed help, and this was the best chance he had. Frankie couldn't risk ruining that.

He wasn't sure how long they walked before little Rupert opened the door to a homey—looking place in a quiet neighbourhood. He called loudly for his mother as Frankie and Rupert got Donnie inside, met with a frantic red-headed woman wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Rupert! Oh thank God — Your father said he was going to find you and then I saw the explosion on the news — are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay mom," the young boy promised. "Dad… I found my brother! He's helping my friend's — they got hurt!"

She turned to look at the other three for the first time. Frankie opened his mouth to say something, but cut himself off as he saw her eyes focus on her elder son.

"Rupert — no. No… you died. You're — you're dead…"

"What's going on darling?" a new voice questioned as a familiar man in a bright green jacket came out from the kitchen.

"Reggie?"

"Frankie?"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Why the fuck are there so many people in my house?" the woman snapped loudly, followed by a deep breath in an attempt to ground herself. "Okay… breathe."

She focused back on Rupert, hesitantly bringing her hand to the side of his face. It hovered just above, as if she was scared to touch him.

"Was Jack right? Are you really alive, my boy?"

"Yes mom, I am," he promised quietly, unmoving as her fingers brushed the side of his cheek.

"Oh Rupert…"

He quickly — yet carefully — left holding up Donnie to Frankie as his mother started sobbing into his arms. Holding on tightly to the son she was so sure she lost as he tried his best to guide her back to the kitchen.

"Rupert — show Frankie somewhere Donnie can rest," he instructed as he passed by, turning to Reggie afterwards. "I don't know who the fuck you are — but make yourself useful or somethin'."

Reggie stood there for a moment before doing just that and helping Frankie with Donnie. Little Rupert lead them down the hall to what must have been a spare room, where they laid Donnie on the neatly made bed. Frankie let out a exasperated sigh as he dropped down beside the bed, holding onto his little brother's hand as he watched the very faint movement of his chest that proved he was still breathing.

He looked… so small. In so much pain. Frankie hated that he couldn't do more — couldn't do anything to help the most important person to him. That he got into this situation.

"The fuck happened Frankie?" Reggie questioned quietly, staring at Donnie himself with a look of disbelief.

"Bomb," Frankie replied dryly, uninterested in explaining anything any further. Reggie of all people should have been able to piece together what happened. He knew what they were going to do. Why they couldn't go to the hospital.

A hand grabbed Frankie's shoulder, a small attempt to be comforting from his… landlord? He guessed — still didn't know why Reggie was even here.

"I gotta doctor friend, kinda owes me a favour," he said quietly. "He ain't gonna ask any questions, could call him."

"Why would you do that for us?" Frankie questioned skeptically as he looked up at the other man.

"Fuck Frankie — you kids may drive me crazy but I don't wanna either of ya to die," Reggie insisted with a small laugh, his hand squeezing Frankie's shoulder. "Let me go give him a call."

Frankie nodded, still thinking about Reggie's words as he walked away. Little Rupert stood beside Frankie, looking at Donnie with a scarily blank expression.

"Is he going to die?" he asked bluntly, his voice fluctuating right at the end.

"I don't know," Frankie admitted quietly. "I hope not."

"I don't want anyone else to die."

"Me either kid."

Reggie returned not long after, promising help was on the way. While they were waiting, Rupert and his mother joined them as well.

"Rupert explained you are your brother had no where else to go," she said to Frankie from the doorway. "You're more than welcome to stay here — it's the least I can offer you for helping my son."

Helping. Cause that's what he did. Frankie didn't usually have any problems lying to people. It was part of life. But right now, it made him feel sick.

The Christmas-themed chime of the doorbell rang, Reggie hurried off and came back with the doctor he promised.

The spare room was turned into a makeshift hospital. The doctor and Rupert's mother — who just so happened to be a veterinarian — got to work doing what they could. Rupert somehow convinced Frankie to leave the room with him, Reggie and little Rupert. To give them space. The four of them ended up around the kitchen table as Reggie made coffee.

"I still don't understand what happened," he noted, setting a mug in front of Frankie. "What went wrong?"

"A lot," Frankie muttered, resting his arms on the table and staring into the coffee. Mostly to avoid looking at anyone else as he admitted the truth. "It's all my fault."

"No it's not!" little Rupert quickly chirped in his defence before scrunching his face at the coffee Reggie tried to offer him, pushing the cup over to his older brother.

"Kid, I really fucked up," Frankie insisted with an empty laugh. "You should know that."

"What do you mean?" Rupert inquired, blowing on the hot drink.

Frankie kept looking into the dark brown liquid. If only the cup was big enough to drown himself in. Probably what they all would want, once they knew.

"It was my bomb," he finally said, louder than he intended. "I gave it to Rupert to put at the tree — even after Donnie told me not to get the kid involved. We just — really needed the money and I was being fuckin' stupid 'cause I knew the police were onto us. It was just suppose to be one last job — enough money to pay Reggie back and get the fuck outta this city before they could catch us."

He took a deep breath in, followed by loud exhale out as he continued spilling the truth of it all.

"That detective — your dad— he tried to stop me too. Tried to give Donnie and I an out for all the other robberies. But it was too late. It was too fuckin late! And now he's dead — and Donnie might be dead — and it's my fault!"

Tears fell from Frankie's eyes as he stood up abruptly, shaking the table enough for some of the coffee to splash over the edge of his mug.

He didn't look at any of them, quickly turning towards the front door and storming off.

He couldn't actually leave — not with Donnie still here. They might take out their anger on him, Frankie couldn't have that. But he couldn't stay at that table either. He needed air.

Frankie stepped outside, assaulted by the cold evening air and the obnoxiously brightly coloured light strung across every house on the street. He let the door fall shut as he leaned again the icy siding of the building. He tried to rub away the tears in his eyes with his dirty fingers, cursing under his breath.

What the fuck was he going to do?

He wasn't that surprised to see the front door open again, Rupert looking up and down the street before spotting Frankie. He shut the door, standing right in front of him.

"If you wanna beat me up or some shit, I won't fight back," Frankie mumbled honestly, staring down at his old boots

"Fuck, I wish that's what I wanted," Rupert muttered back, running his hand through his hair before crossing his arms. "Wish I could be madder at you, honestly."

"Well why the hell aren't you?" Frankie questioned as his head turned up. "You should be! I got your little brother involved in all this — I got your dad killed!" He was almost mad that Rupert wasn't more angry with him.

Frankie wasn't really thinking when he shoved Rupert back. Wasn't very hard, enough for the other man to stumble into the railing of the porch.

"Why the fuck aren't you mad?" he repeated loudly, getting in Rupert's face. Frankie had trapped him, between the railing and himself. He'd have to push back now. "You should be fucking pissed!"

"I'm very pissed Frankie, believe me!" Rupert shouted back. "I'm pissed off at a lotta things right now! But you ain't one of them!"

Frankie grabbed the collar of his coat, Rupert didn't flinch.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because — fuck what could I say or do to you that you ain't already doing yourself?"

…

"The hell does that mean?"

"Fuckin' — look at you," Rupert insisted, lowering his voice to a more normal volume. "It's like you want me to be mad at you or some shit."

Frankie didn't say anything as he let go of Rupert and took a step back. Rupert continued.

"You're right, ya fucked up. We all do. Sure — maybe this is bigger than the average fuck up — but doesn't mean… I don't know what the fuck I'm saying. You ain't a terrible person Frankie. Least not as terrible as you seem to think."

He still didn't say anything, turning away from Rupert as he tried to rub the tears out of his eyes. Frankie flinched slightly when a hand came down on his shoulder, unsure what Rupert was doing as he stepped closer to him.

Rupert silently pulled the other man into a hug. Frankie could feel himself lock up at first — probably the last thing he thought was going to happen. He eventually allowed himself to relaxed, hesitantly bring his arms up around Rupert.

Frankie knew this was ironic — they both did. He'd gotten his father killed, yet Rupert was comforting him.

Neither said anything, standing on the porch in the dead of a very cold night. Just them, the wind, and the distant singing of someone's Christmas lights. For the first time in — fuck he couldn't even remember when — Frankie felt some amount of peace. In that moment, everything crushing down on him seemed a little lighter.

Maybe, he even believe what Rupert had said about him.

The door creaked open again, the two parted quickly as Reggie spoke up.

"Fuck — it's cold out here. I don't know what you're doing but get the hell inside would ya?"

Frankie and Rupert followed the other man back inside, Frankie almost immediately attacked by a small child grabbing onto his legs.

"Please don't go Frankie!" little Rupert begged through more tears. "I want you to stay!"

"I ain't leaving yet," he promised, patting the boy atop his head. "Your brother made me think I shouldn't go so quickly. And my brother's still here too, ain't he?"

"Can we go check on Donnie?"

"Let Frankie do that, Rupert," Rupert suggested. "Come help me — I don't know make hot chocolate or some shit."

That seemed a good enough task to distract little Rupert, who followed his older brother back to the kitchen while Reggie followed Frankie over to Donnie's room.

"How's he doing?" Reggie asked quickly as the pair of them stood in the doorway. He hand once again rested on Frankie's shoulder. People kept doing that to him today.

"The burns surprisingly weren't third degree," the doctor reported. "Breathings stable, he seems in and out of consciousness still, but should properly wake up soon."

"He's gonna live?" Frankie asked.

"He'll live," the doctor confirmed with a small smile as Frankie let out a sigh of pure relief and made his way back to his brother's side. "You want me to look at your leg too?"

Frankie had forgotten about the pain in his leg, looking down at the hole burnt through one of the patches in his jeans and the mark that looked so small in comparison to everything Donnie had.

"It's fine. Hardly hurts anymore."

"Alright. I've left some burn treatments over there, for whoever needs it."

"Thanks doc," Reggie said as the man went to leave, following him out the door. "Come with me — see if the other two have any burns or something."

Frankie held Donnie's hand again, this time sitting in a chair instead of on the floor. Donnie was gonna be okay.

He hadn't killed his brother.

They were gonna be okay.

He wasn't gonna be alone.

"Reggie told me a little of what happened," Rupert's mother said softly. Frankie had honestly forgotten she was in still in the room. It took a second for the weight of her words to hit him fully.

He'd still gotten the detective — her husband — killed. He'd lucked out that Rupert… took pity on him or something, and he'd never got lucky twice.

"You two can stay here long as you need."

Frankie blinked a few times, wondering if he could have possibly heard her right.

"We hardly use this spare room anyways," she continued. "Hopefully it's nicer than whatever room Reggie had you staying in."

Frankie let a chuckle slip out, swallowing his guilt as he looked up at her.

"Thank you… It's very kind of ya ma'am."

"Please, just call me Reese," she insisted with a smile. "And you're very welcome… Frankie was it?"

"Yeah, Frankie," he confirmed. "And he's Donnie."

"Well, I'll give you a minute," Reese said as she walked towards the door. "Yell if you need anything, we'll probably be in the kitchen."

"Thank you," Frankie said again as she shut the door behind her. He turned his attention back to Donnie, once again just watching him breathe.

"Don't know how the hell we lucked into this Donnie, but you're gonna be alright now. We're gonna be okay."

Frankie didn't want to leave Donnie's side, didn't want him to wake up alone and confused. So he stayed there,move to sit on the edge of the bed. Waiting.

Little Rupert was the first one who checked in on him. Telling Frankie to call him RJ now, for Rupert Junior. Because he 'needed a different name than his brother' and RJ 'sounded cooler than Rupert.'

It wasn't long after Reese poked her head in, ushering RJ off to bed. She checked in with Frankie before leaving herself. Telling him to help himself to any of the food in the kitchen if he was hungry.

Frankie thanked her again, mumbling out some sort of apology for… just about everything that happened that day. It was met with a warm smile from Reese, who told him not to worry too much and try to get some rest.

She was far too kind to him. They all were.

Reggie popped his head in shortly after. Frankie finally learned that he'd been seeing Reese while her husband was at work — naturally. Why the hell else would Reggie be here? — And just happened to be seeing her while everything was going down. Didn't say much else to Frankie before leaving. Frankie didn't know if he was staying the night or heading home — deciding quickly he didn't need to know.

Lastly, Rupert. Didn't say anything when he walked in, closed the door behind him. Handed Frankie a cup of water before sitting in the empty chair beside the bed.

"Thanks."

Rupert gave him a nod, glancing over at Donnie as he stirred slightly. Eyes blinking several times as he finally woke up.

"Donnie — easy," Frankie insisted qucickly as Donnie tried to sit up.

"Frankie? Ow— Fuck — were the fuck are we?"

"Somewhere safe," his older brother reassured as he slid closer. "You remember that kid Rupert? His older brother — fuckin' Rupert as well — helped ya out."

Frankie pointed the other man out, Rupert gave a small wave.

"Hey."

"Hey…" Donnie greeted hesitantly before turning back to Frankie, lowering his voice. "What the fuck happened?"

"I fucked up — that's what happened," Frankie explained. "RJ — the little Rupert — set the bomb off and —"

"I know that," Donnie cut off, wincing as he tried to move his burnt arm. "How the fuck did we end up here?"

"That detective guy — their dad — didn't make it. RJ came crying over to me while Rupert was helping me figure out if you were still even alive," Frankie started again.

"Ran over when I saw the explosion," Rupert added. "Just so happened to be the first people I saw."

Frankie and Rupert worked together to slowly recap everything that'd happened while Donnie was out. Silently agreeing to spend less time on the details of their 'fight' outside and getting Donnie to focus on things like Reggie's weird involvement in it all.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," Donnie muttered for at least the third time once they finished, good hand on his head.

"Yeah, that's how we all feel," Rupert remarked as he stood up. "I'll go get you some water or somethin'. Doctor said something about that I think."

Donnie waited until Rupert left before trying to sit up.

"The hell you doing, Donnie?" Frankie questioned, quickly forcing him back down with just a hand on his chest.

"Getting the fuck outta here — what are you doing?" Donnie questioned back with a confused look on his face. "What happened to 'trust no one but ourselves' huh?"

Frankie sighed as Donnie repeated the words he'd said himself so many times.

"And I still believe that — but the fact that they all haven't killed me for what I did proves at least something about them, right? They're probably the only reason you're not fuckin' dead — and I rather not risk running out to fuck knows where while you're like this."

"You really think we can trust them?" Donnie questioned, still in fight or flight mod.

"For tonight? I do," Frankie promised, looking away from him in an attempt to hid the water building up in his eyes. "I almost lost you Donnie… because of my stupid plan—"

"Our stupid plan," Donnie corrected. "Wasn't all you…. If you trust them, I trust you so..."

Frankie rubbed his eyes as Rupert returned with a glass of water, setting it on the side table by Donnie.

"Thanks," Donnie muttered, looking down at the bandages wrapped around his left arm. "Where's my jacket?"

Frankie pointed to the black jacket hanging off the bed post.

"One of the sleeves got all fucked up — but told them not to throw it out."

"Good. Thank you."

"Important to you?" Rupert inquired from his chair. "The jacket?"

"Like the one nice thing I own," Donnie remarked with a laugh, wincing again at the pain it caused. "Well — it was."

The two of them kept talking. Mostly Rupert talking, few words from Donnie. Frankie didn't remember much of what they said. He must have dozed off shortly after, next thing he knew he woke up properly laying across the bed with Donnie sleeping at his side. First time he'd ever been happy to here his brother's snoring as he got up.

Frankie quietly slipped out of the room, following the sound of voices to the table where Reese and her sons were having breakfast — or lunch, looking at the clock hanging on the wall. They all paused as he entered, Frankie awkwardly stood in the archway that separated them from the living room.

"Good morning Frankie," Reese greeted. "There's eggs and toast on the counter, help yourself.

Frankie put a singular piece of toast on his plate before joining them at the table in empty chair beside RJ.

"Is Donnie awake yet?" The young boy asked. His hair was a little shorter and slightly uneven now, all the burnt parts haphazardly cut off with kitchen scissors if he had to guess.

"He did, but now he's sleeping again," Frankie explained before biting into the still warm toast.

"How's your leg?" Reese inquired.

"Fine. Hardly even hurts." Not exactly true, but Frankie didn't need anyone worrying about that.

"Mom, where'd the strange man go?" RJ asked between mouthfuls of cereal. "The bald guy with the green coat."

"I'm not sure, RJ," she replied, Frankie couldn't tell if that was true or if she just didn't want to tell her son. Either was reasonable.

"What's his deal anyway?" Rupert questioned, met was a raised eyebrow from Reese. She looked at him — a face that asked if he really was asking his mother about a guy she had over.

"Reggie's a friend. Was spending time with me, since your father couldn't be bothered..."

Frankie say her face drop after mentioning her now deceased husband. The whole table fell silent, nothing but the sound of silverware clinking against glass dishes. Frankie wished he stayed in the bedroom with Donnie.

It was Rupert who eventually spoke up.

"RJ, can you go for a second?"

"Why?"

"Someone needs to check on the Christmas lights outside, right? Make sure none of them fell off or somethin'."

RJ quickly accepted the random excuse Rupert threw at him to leave, hurrying to the door and getting his boots and coat on. Clearly determined to do the best job possible, kid liked feeling helpful. If Frankie had been paying just a little more attention, he would have taken the chance and left with him.

Instead, he found himself trapped at the table as Rupert focused on his mother.

"Dad is a piece of work," he began, before correcting himself. "Was a piece of work. And I know I haven't been around last few years — but based on the one conversation I got to have with him before… all this, I'm assuming he hadn't changed much."

"You'd be correct," Reese agreed.

"But, he was still our dad," Rupert stated firmly, gesturing to himself and the door RJ left through. "And maybe he wasn't always present — but… fuck he tried sometimes? I'm not trying to say he was a great dad but— he was the only one we had. Who RJ watched die. Now that he's gone, can we agree to just… not talk shit about the dead or somethin'? Least for a little bit? For RJ at least."

Reese didn't answer right away, taking a long, slow drink from her coffee. She set the mug back on the table, folded her hands in her lap before facing Rupert again.

"My issues with your father were no where near enough to be happy that he's dead, believe me. I loved him once, you know. I don't noticed when he changed, not right away. I just know he did. I thought I was truly done with our marriage… but soon as he left last night to go find Rupert — RJ — I started thinking that maybe there was still part of the man I feel in love with in there."

She paused, silently brushing away a tear with her finger.

"I think focusing on the good parts of Jack, for now, is for the best. For RJ."

"Thank you."

Reese turned to Frankie, he thought the two of them forgot he was there. Least that what he was hoping.

"Many things lead to Jack's death that night. Though you played a part, the blame shouldn't fall on you."

The room felt silent again, Frankie never felt more awkward in his life. For a brief moment, he wished he was back at the strip club. What the hell could he say to that? The blame absolutely should fall all on him. Why were they all so damn forgiving?

They all turned as uneven footsteps started down the hall, Frankie shot up out his chair when he saw Donnie round the corner. Holding on the wall with his good arm for support as each slow, tiny step clearly hurt him.

"Donnie — the fuck are you doing?" Frankie hissed, arm around his brother as he practically carried Donnie into the chair Rupert had pull out for him.

"Was lookin' for you," Donnie explained quietly, failing to hid the pain on his face every time he seemed to move.

"Yell or something next time," Frankie insisted.

"It ain't that bad."

"Like hell it ain't — you almost fell over just walking in here."

Donnie muttered something under his breath in response, folding his left arm into his lap before reaching for the half piece of toast left on Frankie's plate with the other. Frankie sighed as he pushed the plate closer, returning to his chair with a close eye on his brother.

"So, Reggie mentioned to me that you two were renting a room from him," Reese recalled lightly, clearly attempting to lower the tension that seemed to just keep building.

"If you could call it that," Donnie muttered, making Frankie snicker as all the names they called that crappy place ran through his head.

That dump, The shithole, rat's paradise, indoor alley, the list went on.

"Well, from what I've heard it's not much good," she remarked bluntly. "No place for someone recovering from injuries like yours, Donnie. I know I told Frankie this last night, but just know you two can stay in the guest room long as you need."

"Thank you, Reese," Frankie said, something she'd heard a dozen times by now. "We can pay you a little-"

"You'll do no such thing," Reese cut off quickly. "I won't take a cent from either of you. Save that money for something important."

What they'd always been trying to do.

Frankie didn't push back any further, knowing it was an argument he wouldn't wind. He'd find some way to pay her back though.

They didn't really speak much as everyone kept eating. Frankie got up once, grabbing a second, now cold piece of toast for himself and another for Donnie when he asked. Anything to keep him from trying to stand up again.

RJ came running back in shortly after, shaking snow out of his hair as he spoke.

"All the lights are still working — I turned them off 'cause it's too light out to see 'em all right now though. None fell of the house!"

"Good work," Rupert praised, RJ grinned widely as he climbed up into the chair beside his mother. His eyes locked onto Donnie rather quickly.

"You're awake again!"

"Yeah," Donnie confirmed, glancing at Frankie as he didn't know what else to say to the kid. Frankie shrugged in response. Donnie didn't have to say anything more on the subject, as RJ quickly threw more words at him.

"Are you and Frankie staying here for Christmas?"

"Oh — that is tomorrow, isn't it?" Reese realized as she glanced over at the calender hung on the fridge.

"Guess so," Frankie confirmed. Donnie added on;

"We don't really do Christmas though."

"Why not?" RJ questioned quickly. "Doesn't Santa bring you presents?"

Donnie hesitated as Frankie shot him a look. Despite their issues with the holiday, the sure as hell weren't gonna ruin it for this kid.

"He uh… knows we don't celebrate," Donnie came up with, turning to Frankie for help again.

"Wasn't something our family did, so he didn't stop by," Frankie made up. "Had a lot of other houses to get to anyways."

"Well he always comes here," RJ remarked. "Maybe he knows you two are here — and he'll bring you something!"

"Didn't give him much of a warning, did we?" Frankie remarked with a small laugh. "But maybe."

The rest of the day — Christmas Eve — was oddly quiet. After Frankie failed to convince Donnie to go back and rest in bed, RJ managed to convince him to sit on the couch and watch some animated Christmas movie they had on VHS with him.

Frankie was surprised when his brother agreed, before quickly realizing Donnie just didn't want to disappoint the kid. That he could relate to. He didn't wanna be too far from Donnie, case his needed him for anything. But did end up following Rupert outside when he asked for help shovelling snow. He couldn't let go of a chance to work towards paying the family back, after all. And he didn't hate shovelling that much. Often did it for Reggie to help pay part of their rent.

Reese had hot chocolate waiting for them when they came back inside. The third or so time Frankie had been offered a warm drink while he was there, first time he'd actually drank it. Was really cold out there, after all. His shitty fingerless gloves and crappy jeans (with an extra hole in them) hardly help. The jacket did, but that was really it.

After confirming Donnie was still doing alright — now listening to RJ explain each of his toys in detail — he asked Reese about possibly using the shower. She directed him to the larger bathroom upstairs. Showed him how the shower worked, pointed out soap and shampoo he could use, and left him with a towel and clothes she hoped would fit him before heading back downstairs.

Frankie couldn't remember the last time he had an actually warm shower. Probably that one time he pulled together enough money for he and Donnie to spend the night in a hotel room for Donnie's birthday couple years back. Wasn't even that nice of a hotel — but sure as hell nicer than any other place they ever stayed in.

The pants fit him surprisingly well, a little loose but not like they were gonna fall down when he walked. Shirt was a bit too small, the sleeves didn't reach his wrists and the bottom sat above a little above his waist. Not that uncomfortable though — just looked like he was wearing a crop top to be honest. And he didn't hate that. Always had his jacket if he got cold — or started to feel ridiculous.

Reese told him to leave his old clothes in the basket in the bathroom, said she'd wash them. Frankie wasn't sure if the jeans would survive any sort of machine, but didn't really care that much about them anymore.

He went back downstairs. Donnie had fallen asleep on the couch while RJ was captivated by something on the TV. Frankie couldn't help but laugh as the kid rolled his eyes when Donnie snored, advising him to turn the TV up louder to drown him out.

He then found Rupert in the kitchen, swearing at the oven as he struggled with the timer. Frankie tried to help him, eventually getting the red dial off the number zero and turning it around to fifteen as Rupert instructed. He then told Frankie to make sure the food inside, a tray of frozen chicken strips and fries, didn't burn while he went to shower himself.

Easy enough job, Frankie hadn't had to do a thing by the time Rupert returned. He was the one to take to food out, asking Frankie to go get their respective brothers.

Frankie told RJ the food was ready before carefully shaking Donnie awake and helping his brother back to the kitchen.

"Where's mom?" RJ asked his older brother as he placed a plate of food in front of him.

"Said something about goin' shopping before she left," he replied vaguely as he placed another full plate in front of the chair Frankie helped Donnie into. "She'll be back soon, probably."

There wasn't a lot of talking done during dinner, even RJ was on the quieter side for the meal. He was also the first one to finish, complaining only a little when Rupert told him to go shower before watching TV again.

"For someone who only just started being an older brother, you're very good at it," Frankie remarked, Rupert gave a small smile.

"That kid makes it pretty easy."

Despite that fact that he was yawning again after he finished eating, it still took Rupert and Frankie both to convince Donnie to just go to bed. He begrudgingly agreed, eventually, though. Frankie helping him to the bed and turning the lights off in the room before he went back to the kitchen to help Rupert clean up.

Reese returned shortly after they finished, recruiting the two of them to help her bring in groceries from her car. She hadn't bought a lot of stuff, just enough for the pair of them to get everything in one trip. Frankie had know idea how the hell she found a store open at that time on Christmas Eve, but didn't bother asking as he put his jacket back on and silently helped carrying plastic bags inside to the table.

RJ came back down and jumped at the chance to join in helping too, Reese giving him the job of putting things away as he knew where everything went. Was a good thing, as neither Rupert or Frankie weren't much help there. Just waited for Reese to tell them to take something to a cupboard or hold the fridge door.

When most everything was put away, as Reese told RJ to get ready for bed, he asked her about leaving milk and cookies out for Santa. Frankie offered to help him poor the glass of milk while Reese tried to remember where the cookie she just bought were put.

With the milk and cookies set out on the table, RJ said his goodnights. Frankie hadn't expected the young boy to hug him just as he'd hugged his mother and brother, but try not to let the surprise show too much and hugged him back.

"Oh… RJ's toys," Reese muttered after he'd already gone upstairs, peering into the mess of toys left around the living room.

"I can deal with 'em," Frankie offered. "Just in the bin over there?"

"Yes, thank you."

A little bit of cleaning really felt like the least he could do, after everything this family had done for him and Donnie. Picking up a couple of toys and tossing them in a bin was hardly even work, anyways.

RJ sure had a collection of them. Racecars, toy soldiers, posable action figures, and plastic horse just to name a few. Thing that really caught Frankie's eye was a couple small frogs made of translucent coloured plastics. If you pushed down on the tab on the back of them and let go, the frog would 'hop' forward.

Frankie had one before, when he was young. Their parents had made him wait outside with Donnie — strapped into a baby car seat carrier thing — while they went into the gas station store. When they came back out, his mother dropped the small yellow frog into his hand. Said something about it being free with their shit, but Frankie didn't care about that part, it was something from his parents. A gift. The only 'gift' they'd given him before was whatever crappy food was lying around the house and clothes either too big or too small for him.

But the frog felt like a real gift. Even if is parents had meant nothing by pawning the bit of plastic the cashier gave them off on their son, Frankie thought it was just the coolest thing ever.

He remember sitting on the floor of the dark living room that night. Donnie laid on a blanket on the floor, screaming his head off. Their parents couldn't hear, too busy screaming at each other in the bedroom. Frankie turned up to TV to try and drown them out, then sat beside Donnie and showed him the frog.

He couldn't give it to Donnie, Frankie spent enough time stopping his little brother from shoving anything that'd fit into his mouth. But he could make it jump for him. Add silly noises too as it left the ground. That was eventually enough to change Donnie's crying out for little giggles.

Frankie also remembered being pissed off when he lost the stupid thing two or so years later. Even if it was just a cheap toy, it was his cheap toy. Back then, having anything that was actually his felt like a huge deal. Especially because his parents had given it to him. And now they'd abandoned him and Donnie. That frog felt like proof that secretly, deep, deep down, his parent really did love him. That they'd come back for them one day.

It would be easy to laugh at how stupid that was, if it wasn't just… really sad.

Frankie pushed down on the plastic tabs of one of the frogs. Watched it hop up and land not too far from him. Really was a simple, cheep toy.

"Having fun?" Rupert asked, arms resting on the back of the couch as he looked down at Frankie.

Frankie's face went a little red, quickly picking up the frogs and dropping them in the bin before standing back up.

"You smoke?" Rupert asked.

"Sometimes, yeah."

He motioned for Frankie to follow him outside, into the cold night air as the stood on the porch together for the second time. Rupert handed him a cigarette, lighting his own before also offering Frankie the green lighter.

"Thanks."

Frankie didn't smoke often, they couldn't afford that kind of shit. Most of Frankie's smoking happened when they arrived back at the strip club in the early hours of the morning, one of the strippers out there would usually offer them one. Frankie usually would take them up on it, Donnie didn't. He tried it once or twice, hated it every time. Definitely a good thing, for the sake of his health.

"Been talking to my mom," Rupert said, leaning against the railing of the porch and staring off at the Christmas lights across the street. "Made some calls this morning, about what poor sucker got buried under my name. Aren't sure just yet, can't confirm till the right people are back after the new year or some shit, but it had to be someone who was labelled missing. Got them to tell me the list, pretty sure I know the guy."

Rupert paused as he brought the cigarette up to his mouth, blowing out a breath of smoke before continuing.

"Name was Colton, told us to called him Cole though. Two of us were usually paired together for shit. Were reported missing together too, apparently. We'd already lost each other I'm sure. Mom said he had my dog tag when they found him — no idea how or why he had it. But he did. We don't look that similar, but after what can happen to a man out there… anyone who's about the same build can look like anyone else. So, they just assumed it was me, and he was still missing."

Frankie leaned up beside Rupert, using his own cigarette as an excuse for his silence. So Rupert had been in the war, that made sense. Eventually, he came through was some sort of response.

"That's tough…"

Never said it was going to be a good one.

Rupert gave a small laugh at Frankie's bluntness.

"Yeah, sure is. What can ya do about it?"

"What can ya do about it," Frankie repeated, less as a question and more of a statement.

The front door opened, Reese shivered as the cold breeze hit her.

"What the hell are you doin' out here — it's freezing. Come back inside, please."

Rupert and Frankie put out their cigarettes in the snow on the railing before following Reese back inside with a strange bit of déjà-vu. She couldn't exactly tell the two grown adults to head to bed, but she heavily implied that it would be a good idea for them to. And neither Frankie or Rupert seemed to feel like disagreeing with her.

"RJ — have some patience, would you?"

"I could go wake him up, you know?"

"Please mom? Please please pleaaaaase?"

Frankie rolled over, a little surprised not to find his brother at his side. Enough so he forced himself out of bed and to the partially open door.

"FRANKIE! Merry Christmas!" RJ yelled the moment he stepped out, running over and attaching himself to Frankie's legs.

"Merry Christmas kid," he replied with a yawn, ruffling RJ's hair as he scanned the living room.

Reese sat in the recliner near the lit Christmas tree, Rupert and Donnie both on the couch.

Donnie had new clothes on now too, a little too big for him as was usual. And Frankie's coat wrapped around himself like a blanket.

"Can we open presents nooow?" RJ asked his mother.

"Yes, now that's everyone's up."

RJ ran over to the tree, Frankie leaned against the arm of the couch beside Donnie.

"Didn't have to wait for me."

"We always wait for everyone to be up," Reese brushed off, standing up and helping RJ read the names on each gift under the tree. Most where for him, a few for Reese herself. To the suspires to them all, RJ brought Donnie, Frankie and Rupert each a over a wrapped box from under the tree bearing their names.

"See! Told you Santa would know you're here!" he exclaimed as he handed Donnie the gift with his name.

Frankie glanced over at Reese when handed his, she gave him a warm smile in response.

He studied the decorated box in his hands before carefully pulling back the green paper. Underneath was shoe box, some brand he didn't recognized covering each side. It was pretty clear that the shoes advertised weren't what was actually inside.

Instead, after taking off the lid he found a silver chain choker, a new pair of black fingerless gloves, and silver necklace with a small, green gemstone pendant.

The loud gasp from Donnie made Frankie look up, smiling wide as he watched his brother hold up a new oversized leather jacket. Just like his old one, minus the damage. He was quick to try it on — Rupert and Frankie having to physically slow him down and remind him he was still injured. Frankie took his own jacket back with a chuckle as Donnie (a little more carefully) stood up and admired his new one.

"Looks great on you, Donnie," Frankie insisted as he pulled the pendent up out of his own box, unclipping the thin silver chain and bringing it around his neck.

He'd always loved jewellery, from a distance of course. He remembered getting screamed at for trying on his mother's bracelet once before. Didn't think much about it as he got older — much more important things to be focusing on — but wow… he hadn't realized how much he still loved it.

How on Earth Reese knew to get him just that was a question he couldn't wait to ask her, when RJ wasn't around of course.

He looked over towards RJ, seeing him get excited at a large toy truck that carried toy cars on it's trailer. Then over to Reese, a few tears as she held a book that must have been a gift from her late husband. Then back to Donnie, very pleased with his jacket to say the least — looked like he was trying not to cry himself. Frankie got that. Then Rupert. He was had his open box on his lap, holding a plastic case carrying different coloured strings, tiny pair of scissors, and a set of sewing needles that he seemed pretty happy with.

"Well with gifts all done," Reese began, "Suppose we should start breakfast. RJ, could you take all your new toys — and old ones — up to your room?"

Her son nodded, piling everything he could into the bin in an attempt to only have to make one trip. Frankie waited until he was out of earshot before speaking.

"Thank you, Reese. Really. I mean… it's…" he wrapped his fingers around the gemstone hanging from his next. "… you didn't have to get us anything —"

"Seemed only right, everyone should have something to open on Christmas," she replied, walking over and placing a hand on Donnie's shoulder as he failed to hold back his tears. "I'm glad I seemed to pick out something you'd both like."

Donnie hesitantly turned to face her, words building in his mouth but nothing actually coming out. Reese gave him a soft hug, which he happily returned.

Frankie smiled again before glancing back at Rupert, seeing him pull out a pendent of his own from the box. Similar to Frankie's, though a gold chain and a dark stone instead. He walked around the couch as Rupert stood up and struggled to close the clip on the necklace behind his neck.

"Let me help you," Frankie insisted, pushing the back of his hair up slightly and taking both ends of the chain from Rupert.

"Thanks," Rupert said, turning back to his mom once Frankie was finished. "And thank you, mom."

"Thank you, for coming home," she replied as she pulled him into a tight hug, kissing the top of his head.

Frankie walked back around the living room and slid his arm around Donnie, unable to shake the smile off his face.

RJ came running back downstairs at the same time someone rang the doorbell. Confused, everyone followed Reese through the kitchen as she went to answer it.

"Merry Christmas!" Reggie cheered the moment she opened the door. He'd swapped the green jacket for an equally obnoxiously bright red one, and carried in a large, open box with him. "Hope you don't mind darling, brought Frankie and Donnie all their crap from mine place, and a little something for you and the kids too."

He dropped the box into Frankie's arms, taking the small plastic grocery bag off the top as everyone moved over to the table. Frankie took the box of his and Donnie's limited possessions, mostly old clothes, to their room before joining the other to see Reggie giving RJ a toy car and candy he probably picked up at a gas station.

He tossed some candy over to Rupert as well, admitting he had no idea what to get him but didn't wanna show up with nothing for him. Rupert mumbled out a thanks, Frankie couldn't help but snicker at just how much he seemed to dislike Reggie. Could hardly blame the guy, either.

"And for you, Reese," he said, taking a small rectangle box out of his bag. "I know we weren't gonna do gifts — cause you had a husband and all — but well…"

God, he was a moron.

"… yeah. Anyways, take this as a 'I'm sorry for your loss' kinda gift instead of a Christmas one how 'bout?"

"Thank you, Reggie," Reese said with both a smile and an eye roll as she took the box.

Inside was a set of Christmas themed pencils, Reese laughed as she set them on the table, thanking Reggie again for the 'charming gift' before asking him and Rupert to help her with breakfast.

"These people ain't so bad," Donnie whispered to his brother as they sat with RJ at the table, the three of them watching Rupert and Reggie bicker at the stove.

"So what, he's just going to be around now?" Rupert asked his mother.

"I'm not trying to be your father or anything, kid," Reggie insisted quickly. "Just — I don't know maybe think of me as like you're uncle or something. Someone who comes around every so often, keeps your mom happy-"

"Ew — no! Please — stop fuckin' talking," Rupert begged with his head in his hands. Reese was shaking her head, hitting Reggie in the arm with a wooden spoon. Donnie and Frankie couldn't keep in their laughter, RJ looked between them and his brother in an attempt to figure out what was so funny.

"They ain't too bad," Frankie agreed while trying to catch his breath, made even harder when Rupert threw the wooden spoon at Reggie and hint the back of his head.

First time either of them had ever enjoyed Christmas Day, no doubt about that.

His legs ached as he tried to press forward towards the exit, struggling to carry his own weight. The duggy bite mark at his ankle and slime still dripping off his shoe provided a good reminder of exactly why. Not to mention the holes in his jeans at the knees from falling more than once.

He wasn't cut out for this…

The guild wasn't that far. He could make it there. Use the first-aid kit to do something for his growing injuries.

The evening light outside felt far too bright after so long in the dim caves. Why couldn't the sun set faster?

Spectral limped his way down the uneven dirt trail, the guild building perfectly in sight but feeling so, so far away.

It was a miracle he didn't collapse before he reached the door. Able to push it open and stumble his way inside to the old building.

He could vividly imagine what the inside should look like. A gruff looking old man standing beside the counter, greeting him with a smile and open arms. Telling Spectral about adventures from his past, with the occasional input from the man rocking in his chair by the fire. When he wasn't sleeping, of course.

But the building was empty.

The chair sat unmoving by the dwindling fire. The only thing behind the counter was a unused stool and an abandon walking stick.

Spectral dropped his sword and pickaxe to the left of the door before he struggled his way over to the first-aid kit, giving up getting to any sort of furniture and dropping to the floor once he pulled it off the shelf.

After painfully pulling of his sweater, Spectral did his best to clean and bandage his arm from his position on the floor, knowing damn well it was a bad job but telling himself it was better than nothing.

"You need help."

Spectral's head turned up, looking first to the counter then around the whole room. The only sound, besides his own heavy breathing, should have been the crackling fire. The only thing that lit the room too.

Which was fine, he didn't like seeing it either. Not like this.

Spectral tried to blink tears out of his eyes before reluctantly pulling himself back to his feet with the help of the wall. He dragged himself to the bathroom in hopes of washing any of the blood and monster guts of himself.

And to get out of that room.

Why was it him up here? What had he done at any point in his life that made his uncles think he was a good fit for the job?

Not like he could just ask…

"Call the doctor."

Spectral batted his right hand at the empty space by his ear, a useless attempt to 'brush away' the unseen voice.

He was fine. It was just a few cuts, no need to get help.

His foot hit the cupboard under the sink when he tried to turn around, a string of incoherence swears slipping out as the bite wound flared up.

A harsh reality check that maybe he really should get help.

Taking all his weight off his bad leg, Spectral hobbled back to the main room of the Adventure's Guild. He leaned against the wooden counter, hand pausing above the old phone as he stood where Marlon use to spend hours standing each day.

"Keep your head on straight, Spectral. Can't keep waiting around."

"Shut up…" Spectral mumbled out loud as he dropped into the stool and finally picked up the corded phone.

There was a list of numbers scratched onto a notepad beside it. All the local businesses, other guild members, family members, and who he could only assume were other townsfolks.

Several had been crossed out, for various different reasons. Spectral's parents, no surprise there. His grandfather, passed away a few years ago. Same with some of the other adventurer's Spectral had only heard stories of.

Spectral had spent a little less than a month there so far, he'd rarely spoken to anyone. It's not like he talked to anyone during his previous visits either. Those where made with the soul purpose of seeing Marlon, Gil, and his grandfather. He'd used the phone once before when the Mayor called, and had only even been in town twice to buy food.

Each time he kept his head down, brushed past the attempts at small talk from the cashier — Pierre or something — and just get what he needed so he could return to the solitude of the mountains.

He probably spent more time 'talking' to the monsters out to kill him than any person in the last month.

Spectral dropped the phone back into it's place. He couldn't stand the thought of talking to anyone. He rather deal with the pain.

"Don't be stupid kid."

It was habit to look for the old man in the rocking chair, becoming almost annoyed at himself for forgetting it was empty still.

That he was alone.

"If you both are going to give me 'advice,' you could at least tell me why I'm here," Spectral muttered quietly, resting his head on the counter.

He didn't really expect an answer, listening to the burning wood cracking and his own shaky breathing again as he let his eyes close.

"We do important work here, Spectral. Keeping the valley safe from the monsters below."

"I don't understand how you've been able to do it for so long."

"Are you calling me old?"

"He ain't calling you young!"

The laughter that followed felt so close. Playing in his ears again, three overlapping voices all with distinct features separating them from one another. For a moment, he felt like he was back there again. Actually talking with them again.

"There's something wrong, monsters shouldn't be this close to the surface…"

"You think something's bringing them up this way, uncle Marlon?"

"Yes, something disrupting their homes."

"Same thing disrupting our home, I reckon."

"What's that?"

"Don't worry about it, Spectral. Gil and will deal with it."

A sudden knock pulled Spectral out of his memories, his head shooting up as the door slowly opened. Two people hesitantly let themselves in. A woman with shoulder-length pink hair and square glasses, and a man behind her with messy, dark hair covering part of his face.

He hadn't had anyone visit before — what could this be about? Monster sighting in town?

"Uh — yes, come in," he insisted though a small cough, his voice a little rough as he spoke. "Sorry about the lights — just forgot to turn them on…

The man flipped up the light switch on the wall, Spectral hadn't realized how messy the place had gotten. From monster parts on the floor, dirt, slime, his own blood, whatever else he'd dragged out of the mines with him to the tools he'd abandoned on the floor. He also forgot how he himself might look, until he caught the woman's expression shift as she looked at him.

Despite his poor attempts to clean himself up, he was probably quite the sight. But that didn't matter. He had a job to do.

"Sorry about the mess — just got back from the mines," he apologized further as he stood up a little too quickly. He could only hope the very prominent pain didn't show on his face as he made his way around the counter.

"What can I help you with?"

"We're here to help you, actually," the woman said, clearly looking his injuries up and down. "Yoba you were right Seb.."

Spectral wasn't sure how to respond to that, leaning back against the counter to help keep the weight off his foot. Help him? Not to stereotype, but the certainly didn't look like adventurers. Then again, neither did he. If he had to guess, he looked more like a child who got lost in the mine than someone who was suppose to protect the town from the monsters down there.

"I'm Maru," she introduced as she walked over. Spectral hadn't realized she'd been carrying a first-aid kit herself — though much newer and nicer than the one he'd used — until she set it up on the counter. "I work as a nurse at the clinic in town. Can I take a look at your injuries?"

"Oh — They aren't as bad as they look, really," Spectral tried to brush off. "Just a few scrapes and what not, don't wanna take up your time-"

His foot once again betrayed him as the pain spiked. He couldn't even finish his sentence, nails digging into the wooden boards of the counter as he failed to mask the pain.

"Please, it's really no trouble," Maru insisted. "And, you clearly need help."

Spectral didn't push back any further, answering with only a small nod in agreement. Maru asked the man who'd come in with her to bring over one of the chairs left in the corner, guiding Spectral to sit down before looking through her supplies.

She spoke through every step she did. Removing Spectral's own mediocre bandage job, properly cleaning and stitching the wound down his arm, treating the bite mark on his ankle to prevent an infection, going as far to tend to the many various cuts and bruises that covered his arms and legs.

Spectral didn't say much himself. Just answered her questions well enough. Usually it was "How did this happen?" and his answer was "The mines." Which, probably wasn't very helpful. But he didn't have the energy to explain any of them much further. He did have one question for her, however.

"Why did you come up here?" he asked her hesitantly, wondering how she could have possibly known of his current state.

"Sebastian saw you leaving the mines," Maru explaining, gesturing to the man who'd been focusing on the weapons displayed on one of the tables. One of the many things Marlon and Gil had set up long ago that Spectral hadn't touched.

"Saw you dragging yourself out of there," Sebastian corrected without looking up. "Thought you'd call the doctor or something, but then Maru came back from work and said there hadn't been any calls so… Figured we should make sure you hadn't bled out or something."

"I was going to call the clinic, but got a… little distracted," Spectral admitted quietly. "So… thank you. For, looking out, I suppose."

Sebastian just shrugged in response. He did however, leave the weapons and walk over to them.

"What are you doing in this place, anyways?"

"Be nice Seb," Maru pleaded, met only with an eye roll.

"Just a question everyone's been wondering. Don't get a lot of new people in town. Especially ones that hide in the mountains all day.

"Isn't that what you kind of do?"

"All the more reason for me to be curious. So?"

His attention had turned back to Spectral, awaiting an answer.

"Well… I'm working I suppose. I was asked to take over here after Gil and Marlon…" his voice trailed off, focusing far too much on trying not to cry in front of the kind strangers who were helping him.

"Oh, yes, we heard about the accident," Maru recalled with a solemn nod.

Surely every one in town knew about it in some capacity. Even with Joja's attempts to cover up their involvement and downplay the deaths from the rockslide they caused. Gotten away without facing any major legal trouble, of course. Apparently it really hurt their reputation in this town, however. Least that's what the Mayor had told Spectral.

"Were you close with them?" Maru inquired politely.

"My uncles," Spectral replied. "Well, great uncles, technically. Don't know why they left the job to me, clearly not every good at it."

He ended the sentence with a empty laugh, running his hand through his tangled white hair.

"Very sorry for your loss," Maru said again, quieting down as she focused back on her work.

"Is that your sword?" Sebastian asked suddenly before the room could get too quiet, pointing over to the weapon Spectral had forgotten by the entry way.

"Yeah, one I've been using," Spectral confirmed as Sebastian picked up. "Careful — It's kinda sharp."

"Looks like it," Sebastian muttered in a tone that might have been sarcastic as he studied the blade. "Pretty cool."

"Thank you?" Spectral replied hesitantly, unsure if Sebastian was being sincere or trying to mock him. He'd been struggling to gauge his overall attitude this whole time.

"How long have you been up here?"

"Uh… just about a month, I think. Haven't really been out in town much though. Just, up here. Trying not die or something."

Another fake laugh tacked onto the end of his words, an attempt to avoid any serious tone the conversation might take.

"Working in the mines?" Sebastian asked. Spectral answered with a short nod.

"Hmmm. Working in the mines for a month and you aren't dead. Can't be that terrible at your job if that's true."

Spectral let out a small laugh, more out of surprise than anything else. A real one this time, more full than any of his previous. He was sure he also saw Sebastian crack a small smile for the first time this whole visit.

"Guess you have a point," Spectral agreed as Maru stood back up.

"Should be good for now, but I'd stop in at the clinic sometime tomorrow and get Harvey — he's the town doctor — to make sure you don't have any more serious injuries I missed."

"Thank you, Maru," Spectral said. "You really didn't need to-"

"Nonsense, it's part of my job," she interrupted. "Is there anything else you need? Some extra bandages or something to eat—"

"Help cleaning?" Sebastian added, gesturing to the mess around them.

"You really don't have to," Spectral insisted as he carefully stood back up. "You've already done more than enough — really. I'll be alright."

"Okay, if you say so," Maru remarked as she finished packing up her things. "If you do need anything, we don't live too far. In the house on the way towards town, with the blue roof."

Spectral nodded, recalling the house as the closest building to the guild. He thought the Mayor mentioned something about a carpenter living there… Maybe? That man had said a lot, Spectral wasn't sure how much to trust his own memory in recalling their conversation.

Maru said a quick goodbye before making her to the door. Sebastian hung back, still looking around the place.

"I'll be there in a second," he said, waving for her to go ahead.

Maru raised an eyebrow at Sebastian, but didn't say anything as she closed the door behind her.

"Did you need something?" Spectral inquired.

Sebastian shrugged, picking up a ripped batwing off the floor.

"What do you do with this stuff, anyways?" he asked before setting it on a nearby table.

"Monster parts? Sell them, mostly," Spectral explained. "Where a lot of the guild's money comes from. They're also good for crafting some things. I think there's a book somewhere where my uncle Gil had written a bunch down in."

Spectral, a little slowly, made his way over to the shelf beside the rocking chair. The book in question was pretty easy to find, the top of the stack with a worn blue cover. He started flipping through the pages, met with familiar, surprisingly neat handwriting and sketches of each item the words described.

"Yeah, this is it. It's got some practical things like different protective rings, bombs and such. Also useful stuff like lightning rods and fishing bait. Even some furniture and other decorative things."

"Hmmm, pretty cool," Sebastian noted as he looked down at the book himself. "You ever make any of them yourself?"

"Not yet, no. But I'd like to try. The lighting rods might be good for summer, I here there's a lot of thunderstorms around here during that time," Spectral remarked, flipping back to the page on lighting rods.

"Yeah, usually is," Sebastian confirmed as he started wandering around the room again. "Maru could probably help you figure it out. She's into that tech sort of things."

Sebastian started picking up other monster parts off the the floor. Solar essence, rock crab legs, bug guts, even just a handful of slime. He asked Spectral about each one, letting the other man list of the where they came from and the potential uses.

Spectral didn't have a clue why he was interested, but getting to explain all this was a great distraction to everything else that'd been on his mind. Something new to focus on.

It was such a good distraction, Spectral hadn't even noticed Sebastian had been moving all the monster parts from the floor into sorted stacks on the previously empty table until he was practically done.

"You were cleaning up," he finally realized. Sebastian cracked a smile again as he tried to shake slim of his hand.

"Maybe I was just tired of stepping on things every time I moved."

Spectral found one of the few clean clothes in the building and brought it over to him.

"You didn't have to stay and help clean-"

"I stayed because I had questions," Sebastian clarified before gesturing to the table. "That just sort of happened."

"Well, it's very nice of you. Even if it 'just sort of happened,'' Spectral insisted. "Thank you."

Sebastian cleaned the slime off his hand with the cloth before setting it on the table.

"It's no problem. Still got one more question for you though."

"Oh?"

"What's your name?"

"I never introduced myself," Spectral realized. "I'm sorry — It's Spectral. That's my name."

"Spectral?" Sebastian repeated with a small laugh. "No wonder you're working a job like this."

"Haha, yeah guess it sort of fits," Spectral agreed. "Uncle Marlon helped me choose the name, so…"

He trailed off again, not finishing the sentence. The pair stood in silence for a moment, before Sebastian spoke up after clearing his throat.

"I didn't know them super well or anything… but I'm sorry about what happened. And that there wasn't anything done about it."

"Thank you," Spectral replied quietly. "I'm not too surprised, that Joja's getting away with it. Not much I can do about that. Just, keeping their work alive. The town safe and all that."

"You seem to be doing a good job. I haven't seen any monsters coming down the mountain," Sebastian remarked sincerely, glancing down at his watch. "Guess I should go, before people start wondering where I am."

"Yeah, of course," Spectral agreed. "Thank you, really. For all your help."

"Thank you, for teaching me something," he replied with another smile. "Like Maru said, we don't live far. And I'm usually around, if you need help or something."

"I'll keep that in mind," Spectral promised, seeing Sebastian to the door.

"See you around, Spectral," Sebastian said before starting down path.

Spectral watched him for a couple seconds before pushing the door shut, letting out a short breath as he looked around the guild. Still blood, dirt and mud on the floor, but that could be a problem for tomorrow. Getting the now sorted monster parts put into storage was going to be much easier.

Everything in front of him now felt slightly easier now, actually. Still daunting, no doubt. Spectral still wasn't fully certain he was cut out for this job.

But Sebastian had a point, even if it was mostly a joke to make him feel better. He wasn't dead, and he hadn't let any monsters get into town. That had to count for something.

"I'll keep doing my best," Spectral promised into the quiet room. "I still don't know why you both picked me… But I'll do my best to make sure it wasn't a terrible mistake."

He didn't get the chance to asked David what that was all about before room seemed to shift. Everyone looked up as the stone above them started splitting.

David's use to moving fast. The moment he heard the roof start to break, his eyes were darting to locate the closest cover. Then passage they came down, assuming the shorter ceiling in there wasn't also about to come crashing down. It wasn't perfect, but better than nothing.

But this time, he didn't get the chance to move himself.

Bensai acted quickly, quicker than David, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to the nearest place of at least some amount of safety he could see; also through the archway, in one fluid motion.

David managed to stay on his feet, with a little help from the hands now resting his shoulders. He glanced back past Bensai in time to see the cascading rocks block the only way back into the final room. Where their four friends were now trapped.

"Are you alright?" Bensai asked David as the dust began to settle.

"Yeah, thanks," David replied with a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in.

He didn't mention to Bensai he was currently pushing down right where he was shot with the arrow not that long ago (Which may have been his own fault-), but relaxed a little more when the monk's hand left his right shoulder.

"This is not good…" Bensai muttered, looking over the tightly packed wall of rocks now barricading the doorway. "Do you — you don't think the other's got crushed in there do you?"

David thought for a minute, trying to remember the positions of everyone else. Clark and Megan were by the dead guy, near the center of the room. That didn't sound good, but the crack in the ceiling, least the one he saw, didn't go over them directly. They might have been able to get back under one of the cubbies along the wall.

Least he certainly hoped so.

As for Jacques and Bloom, he hadn't seen exactly where the pair were standing, but he was sure it was close to a wall. They should have been able to find cover fairly easy, all things considered.

"They're probably just trapped," David finally answered confidently. "Either way, we need to figure out how to get through this and help them out."

Bensai nodded in agreement, studying the blockade rather intently. Pushing at a few spots, looking for a weak point.

"It seems very solid, I don't know if we'll be able to make it through without damaging the tomb."

"Little late to be worrying about that," David remarked.

Between the door they broke on the way in, the multiple fights with the local undead, and now the collapsed roof, damage to the structure seemed like a minor issue now.

David ran his hand across the stones himself, trying to think of the best course of action.

"Clark's sword would be really useful right about now."

"Which one?" Bensai asked sincerely.

"The giant one that cuts through almost anything," David replied with a hint of sarcasm as he stepped back away from the wall. "But I don't know how far back he and Megan are. If they…"

David's voice trailed off, cursing his brain for thinking of the worst. It was giving him a headache.

They were fine. They'd no doubt found cover of some sort, right?

"They're probably trapped further back," Bensai spoke up, an attempt at being reassuring no doubt.

David nodded, leaning against the side wall of the hallway as he brought his hand to his head. Still hurt… more so than concern for his friends usually brought.

The pain in his shoulder was acting up too, he'd chalked that up to being from Bensai though. Both bits of pain did felt strangely familiar however, and not in a good way.

"David? Are you alright?" Bensai's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"… You have any of that antidote on you?"

Bensai check his small bag, retrieving a small glass vial from inside. He pulled out the cork before carefully placing it in David's shaking hand.

When someone asked for an antidote, it seemed best not to question them in the moment. Bensai felt that was a good decision as he watched David drink the yellow elixir.

He instead guided the other man to sit down, his back against the wall for support.

"Thanks," David muttered as he set down the empty glass, hand rubbing his eyes. "Stupid arrow."

"Arrow?" Bensai repeated as he sat beside David. "Oh — the one from the wall?"

"Yeah, pretty sure it was poisonous or something," David explained, gesturing towards his right shoulder.

"May I take a look?"

With a nod of approval, Bensai checked on the arrow wound in David's shoulder. The rogue's lack of sleeves made it rather easy to clean the remaining green poison off and patch the injury with what supplies he had on hand.

"What's our deal with poison anyways?" David asked as Bensai finished treating his wound. "It's like everywhere we go — someone's got to get poisoned."

"I do feel like we have more problems with it than the average adventurers," Bensai agreed, recalling a recent incident involving berries Bloom specifically told them not to eat (and Bensai and Clark mishearing him.)

"Oh — wasn't Jacques also shot with one of those arrows?"

"Shit, yeah."

David could still very clearly see the death glare Jacques had given him after he'd tripped the trap — only because he was distracted by Clark — that got them both shot. He could also picture the look Jacques would be giving him after realizing the arrow was poisonous. That would certainly be fun.

"Well he or Bloom should be able to talk care of it," he added quickly, realizing that Bensai had brought it up out of concern for their friend's safety and not how angry he was going to be with David. "One of them has some of that antidote I'm sure."

"Yes, they should," Bensai agreed as he stood back up. "You should sit there and rest a minute, I'll keep trying at the wall."

David nodded, trying to look over at the bandaged wound. Mostly trying not to think about how annoyed Jacques was going to be with him later. If there was-

No. No that kind of thinking wasn't helpful. David couldn't let himself dwell on all the 'what if's' his brain was very good at conjuring up. He needed to think rationally. Though, was it not rational to believe that people deeper in the room when everything came crashing down might just be crushed-

No. Think productively. What was the point in worrying about people if you weren't going to try and help them?

Using the wall behind him for support, David returned to his feet. Only stumbling slightly as he returned to the blockage, right beside Bensai.

"We could blow it up."

"What? Well — yes I suppose we could blow it up, as in we have the materials," Bensai agreed, gesturing to the bag that held David's flammables. "But that doesn't seem very safe, what if everything just collapses further? I mean, this proves this is not a very stable structure."

"Well do you have any other ideas?" David snapped, louder than he intended. "We can't just sit here and stare at the rocks till they move out of the way! Not when everyone else is back there somewhere!"

Bensai was visibly taken aback by the harsh change in tone from David, a look of concern growing on his face.

"David, I understand you're worried about the others," he began calmly. "But you cannot let that worry control you."

That was true, David knew that. Didn't mean he wanted to hear it.

"We can find a way through this, I just don't know if a big explosion is the best method," Bensai continued. "It might bring this whole building down."

"Okay, yeah I get it," David said quietly. "Sorry-"

His apology was cut short by a thud on the other side of the wall, one that made the pair jump away.

"Is someone over there?" Bensai called loudly, hopping his voice would travel through the rocks.

There was a second, third and fourth thud, liking something dropping somewhere in the space behind the fallen stones.

"Okay…" Bensai turned back to face David. "This doesn't change anything I said previously, but I do believe a small explosion might be the only way we're getting through."

David didn't take any time to gloat over his idea not being so reckless after all (as it 100% still was) and pulled a flask of oil out of his bag. He set it as close as he could to the middle of the wall, perched on the small ledge formed by the uneven stones, before ushering Bensai down the hallway with him.

Once they were a safe enough distance away, David pulled one of his flame-tipped knifes from his pocket. He took the time to line his shot up as well as he could, confirming Bensai was in fact behind him and out of the way before finally throwing the knife.

The blade flew through the air, connecting with the flask and igniting the oil inside. The following explosion wasn't the biggest one David had made, far from it. But enough for him and Bensai to turn away from and cover their faces. And, more importantly, enough to blow a large hole in the stones blocking their way.

And not bring anymore down. That was also important.

Through the new opening, David quickly spotted Megan and Clark almost exactly where he left them. Both had turned to look at the cause of the explosion.

"Oh hey David, hey Bensai!" Clark greeted with a wave before turning back to his bag of swords on the ground. "One second… here it is!"

Clark pulled out the giant sword David had spoke of earlier, he and Megan meeting David and Bensai at the hole in the wall.

"Here, let me cut this open a little more," Clark insisted, pushing the unnecessarily large blade through the stones far too easily.

Bensai and David both took a step back, for their own safety.

"Are you both alright?" Megan asked while Clark worked.

"Yeah, minor issues at most," David brushed off quickly. "You two?"

"We're all good," Clark reassured. "Well, Megan threatened to stab me with her dagger, but she didn't actually do it, so it's fine."

"It's… a long story," Megan muttered vaguely in her own defence. "I'll explain later."

Though both curious, David and Bensai didn't question her further. They waiting for Clark to cut away enough of the rock they could more easily step through.

"Do we know where the others are?" Bensai asked. "Bloom and Jacques?"

"Think they were somewhere over here," David recalled, pointing at the rocks blocking of the east wall of the tomb.

"Alright, I'll get cutting." Clark brought the giant sword over to the wall.

Bensai offered to help him move the weapon this time, making work a little faster. Megan and David stood back, watching for any signs of a second cave in.

Luckily, they had no more issues. Even more luckily, they found their two missing friends on the other side.

Bensai was quick to notice Jacques injured leg, taking over helping him stand from Bloom and gesturing for the ranger to go ahead.

"I'd keep your distance," Bloom warned David rather quickly. "Turns out that arrow was just a little bit poisonous."

"Oh believe me, figured that one out," David muttered as he rotated his own shoulder while turning to Jacques. "That second one hit me, you know?"

"You're still a dead man," The bard replied, words accompanied by that oh so familiar death glare.

"Not if you can't catch me!" David exclaimed before scurry back up towards the exit.

Jacques probably wasn't actually going to kill him, but he did not feel like waiting around to find out. Running out of there was arguably the smartest (and funniest) play he could make.

David could hear Megan and Clark yelling at him to slow down as he turned a corner and jumped over the remains of a skeleton. He didn't listen to them, but he heard them.

He hadn't planned to stop until he'd put just a little bit of distance between himself and the crypt. That plan quickly change when, as he was just a few steps away from the final open doorway, a orange figure stepped out to quickly block his path.

"AHHH!"

The scream was loud and high pitch as David slid to a stop to avoid running right into the elf now laughing at him.

"Oh, you're an asshole," he insisted while trying to catch his breath, leaning against the nearby wall.

When the show came to its end, and you thanked the crowd with the expected bow, waves, a few words maybe. Then you leave.

But it's different, when you have a partner.

Someone who takes your hand, raises their arm alongside yours. Someone you move perfectly in sync with for that moment, even though you never practiced.

And the crowd is thanking you, just as much as you're thanking them. Their thanks is the clapping, cheering, their coin of course, and thrown flowers that miraculously make it to the floor of the stage.