Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

July 4, 2017

Ten year-old Daniel Diaz stared blankly at the desert scenery rushing by through the back left window of the patrol car. Twenty minutes had passed. Twenty minutes since he'd made the decision that would forever change his life. Was it the right thing to do? He'd been asking himself that question ever since they'd shoved him into the car. Upon entering the vehicle, he had pressed his forehead against the cool glass to relieve some of the pressure still trapped in his aching skull from the use of his power. Probably wouldn’t give me anything for the headache anyways. At least the A/C was on. After being pinned to that scorching pavement, he couldn’t take the desert heat a moment longer. Now, the cold metal cuffs dug tight into his delicate wrists. And no matter how much he shifted in his seat, there seemed to be no position comfortable enough. So he breathed. Again and again, he breathed, feeling the warmth of it return to his face as he kept on gazing out that window.

He tried to think of something. A way to escape. A way to explain himself when he finally got to wherever it was they were taking him. Anything. What would Sean do? What will I do without him? But much as he dwelled on this question and the blinding sequence of events that had led him into the back seat of that car, he didn’t know. And in some ways, it didn’t even matter. His brother was long gone now. Speeding freely down the desert roads into Mexico bound for Puerto Lobos, the hometown of their deceased father. Sean would be safe there. Probably even happier without him. That was all that mattered, after everything else. One of them would get freedom. And Daniel was quickly coming to accept that it wouldn't be him. Sean deserves happiness. I was just a burden to him. A lump grew in Daniel’s throat at the thought.

“It’s all my fault,” he whispered, choking back tears.       

“Hello?” the officer up front said over the CB radio. “Yes, this is Officer William Briggs, we are northbound on Route 65 about two hours out. 10-15.”

“10-4. Subject is a confirmed American citizen?”

“Yes sir, it's one of the Diaz brothers. Both wanted in connection to the death of Seattle PD Officer Kindred Matthews.”

“Copy that. Were both subjects retrieved, over?”

“That’s a negative,” the officer replied. “Second subject jumped the road block and fled into Mexico. Even if we had managed to-”

“Yeah, yeah,” the voice on the speaker cut him off. “No extradition. Shame the Matthews family won’t get justice.”

“Uh...you should know, something else happened down at the border.”

“Oh?”

Officer Briggs glanced back at Daniel a moment. The boy clenched his teeth and glared angrily back.

“Um...I...can’t really explain-”

“Officer Briggs!” A static female voice interrupted over the speaker this time. Daniel recognized it as that of Maria Flores, the federal agent who had apprehended him.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“10-3. We are following behind you for a reason. You are not at liberty to discuss the events at the border today with anyone, understood? This is a matter of national security! Your job is to transport the subject safely to Del Carlo Station for interrogation. I shouldn't have to remind you that we have sole jurisdiction over his case. So unless you want a federal injunction brought against you, I suggest you shut your mouth!”

Daniel smirked as the officer sighed over his firm reprimanding.

“Copy that, Miss Flores. Over and out.”

You’re supposed to say 10-4, Daniel thought. He recalled those last days in Away with his brother quite vividly, and treasured them with a fondness in his heart. They were the most peaceful weeks he had spent with Sean ever since their father died. Getting to know his mother for the first time in his short young life, the bond they had all built together. It felt like they’d all formed a real family again, that nothing could ever separate them. Not borders, not skin, not age, not even the whirling storms of change that—as Karen had said—were fast catching up with them. They could outlive it all, outrun it all, just as they had for months. Their crazy, dysfunctional family could fool everyone together. And though Daniel was growing tired of running, he thought he had become used to it. But what happens when you can’t run anymore? When you don’t want to? When your legs start falling apart because your shoes still suck, and you’re cold all the time, and your head always aches?

At least Sean wouldn’t have to run anymore. He was glad about that. Because the more hours, days, weeks, and months that passed, the more Daniel had begun to feel an overwhelming sense of guilt about their time together. It felt like he was the reason Sean had to run in the first place. It was all about protecting me from the truth. About stopping me, keeping control, making sure I was always safe. And in the process, Sean had become a criminal. An outlaw. A fugitive, turning his own heart black whilst Daniel remained blissfully innocent. I allowed that. It didn’t even matter what he did anymore. Sean had already lost an eye because of him. He was quite sure that his brother would allow him to maim every other body part too--even going so far as to die for him if it came to that. You killed me, enano. But it’s okay. I still love you. Bullshit.  

Daniel hated that about Sean. He hated himself even more for believing that he still deserved to be a normal kid just because Sean said so. No. He had to take responsibility this time, and that was why he’d jumped out of the car...right? I killed Dad, and I almost killed you too. I failed you so many times, and you just let me. How is that okay? How is that right? Whatever.

The young wolf fell asleep.

*          *          *

Daniel awoke to the sensation of his body being forcibly handled as two officers yanked him from the squad car. He was barely conscious.

“Hey! Rise and shine!” the man yelled, smacking him in the head.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me, let go!”

The back door slammed behind him, and Daniel, now fully awake, found himself pinned against the car exterior. The lights in the garage were blinding. Pain radiated down his right side, but the two men continued holding him there in a vice grip. There still hadn’t been any time to rest or heal from the injuries he’d sustained by those vigilante scum. I could get these pigs off me if I wanted to, he thought. But that’d just make things worse. For now, he opted to stay silent, like his big brother had taught him.

“What rights do you think you have after the shit you pulled!” the officer spat. He could feel the man’s breath hot in his ear. All the shouting was triggering the angry wolf inside him. Memories of that last fateful day with his dad were surfacing, even as he tried to block them out. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember the sound of his brother's calming voice. Just breathe, enano.

“Officer Briggs!” an angry female voice echoed in the garage. Flores. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing putting your hands on a minor? This boy has been nothing but cooperative with us, and you’re treating him like-”

“Like he just overturned five squad cars, killed two of our best officers, and maimed seven? Yeah! That’s what I thought.”

“You've clearly been watching too much Netflix on your night shifts. The surveillance footage we reviewed showed an SUV plowing the road block and crashing through the fence. This boy jumped out at the last second because he was terrified for his life! He wants to help.”

“I’m sure any statements you get from El Rey will beg to differ! He knocked out several officers and freed two illegals and his brother. You seen those tapes? He belongs in a maximum security cell!”  

"Fortunately, it's not up to any of you! As I said, this child is in federal custody. We'll be the ones to decide his fate! Now why don’t you grab yourself some coffee and a very big box of doughnuts while the rest of us take care of the more important work you’ve been keeping us from for the last several hours. Or do I have to call in backup of my own?”

“Good luck!” the officer snapped as he and his partner let go of the scared boy. “Just don’t expect our help if he escapes again.”

"He won't,” Flores said, looking sympathetically at Daniel. “Right?” The boy had slumped to his knees on the concrete floor.

“Just lock me up,” he whimpered. “I’m not going anywhere, I swear!"

Flores turned her stone cold gaze back to the officers in question. “Satisfied?”

“Whatever,” Briggs smirked. “You feds are all the same. You come in here twisting our arms, thinking you have everything under control. You haven’t a clue what really goes on near the border. Then again, maybe you feel some sort of sympathy, being that-”

“If you want to keep your job,” Flores cut him off, “I highly suggest you don't finish that sentence!”

“You’re right,” Briggs laughed. “What was I even thinking? Coffee and doughnuts are calling my name.” With that, the two officers proudly went on their way, chuckling and high-fiving each other through the doors of the precinct. Stupid gringos, Daniel thought to himself. He still didn’t know many Spanish words beyond a few insults, but he imagined Agent Flores had plenty of them running through her mind after that interaction. Much as he was happy she seemed to be on his side, Daniel still felt a little intimidated by her demeanor, not to mention her service to a justice system that—Karen had explained—was skewed against people like him. Why'd she want to be an FBI agent? Daniel thought. She talks like Dad. Why be against your own people? Even Sean had told him of his prior interactions with her, and her unwillingness to listen to him. Then again, there was plenty Sean had done wrong during their journey. I really hope she listens to me.

“You all right?” she asked him. Daniel simply shook his head. “I know you’re shaken up,” she said, kneeling down to place a hand on his shoulder. “But things are going to be okay. I promised your brother that whenever we found you, we would take care of you. That promise still stands.”

As Daniel contemplated her words and any possible truth in them, he noticed two shadows appear on the ground behind hers. She must have been in the car with other federal agents on their way up from the border. There was a menacing vibe he got from their auras, like something creepy Sean would draw in his journal from pure imagination. Daniel remembered him doing that a lot to make the scenery seem funnier whenever he was in a stressful situation. But in this case, it was a nightmare turned to real life—a nightmare that only Super Wolf could fight, if it ever came to that. For now though, he didn’t get the impression he had to. He was too tired. Tired of running, tired of using his powers to hurt people, tired of all the shit he had been through because of Sean. Somehow, he would have to learn to survive without his big brother.

“Daniel,” Flores said, interrupting his thoughts. “We have to book you now, okay?”

“I know. But...what does that mean?”

“It means we ask you some questions, get your fingerprints, take your picture-”

“You mean like a mugshot?!” he panicked.

“Yes.”

“B-But...you said I was being good!”

“You are," she said, patting his left, uninjured shoulder. "It's just documentation. Whether you’re innocent or not, everyone has to go through it. But I’ll be right here to make sure it’s as quick and painless as possible, okay?”

“And then what happens?”

“Then you get to tell me everything that happened.”

“...Okay. I guess I can do that.”

The story of how the Wolf Brothers ended, he thought. The story of how my brother abandoned me for Mexico. Asshole.

*          *          *

Shortly after the initial booking process—which consisted of an explanation of the charges brought against him, signing paperwork, getting his shoes taken away, and the humiliating mugshots during which he’d had to turn every direction and hold up a stupid sign—Daniel found himself in a private interrogation room. It was dark and cold, surrounded by green concrete walls on every side, probably a good foot or two thick. A singular light shone down over a table, on which Agent Flores had laid out a folder of evidence. The blue jumpsuit they’d put him in was itchy, but at least it was less cold than wearing the tattered remains of his red Space Mission shirt and black shorts. If I ever get it back, maybe I’ll make it into my official Super Wolf cape, he thought. Nah. That would be lame.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” Daniel asked, getting anxious at the agent’s silence. He tried not to sound as scared as he truly was. Agent Flores reached forward to hold his hand. There was no fooling her. 

“I’m going to do everything in my power to get you back to your grandparents. You have my word. But first, Daniel, you have to trust me. Can you do that?”

The boy closed his eyes, even as he held tight to the hand he did not want to trust. Memories were flooding his mind. Memories of Haven Point, and all the things Reverend Lisbeth had lied about. There were many times that vile woman had demanded his cooperation, or played mind games with him to instill his trust in her. That’s what he had learned from talking to Karen about it, anyway. But Agent Flores seemed to be giving him a genuine choice, and he sensed the last thing she wanted to do was dole out punishments for things that, ultimately, were not his fault. I could be with Grandma and Grandpa again, he thought. For now, the stoic young agent seemed to be the only one who could make that happen. Still, Daniel hated the idea of placing his faith in her. It felt like trusting Lisbeth again. But there was a caring nature in her voice and body language he hadn’t picked up on from anyone else since being escorted back from the border. She was clearly a family woman, and Mexican, like him. Somehow, that made him feel safer.

“I...I guess I can trust you,” he sniffled. “But what about Sean?”

“One step at a time, okay? For now, we're all more worried about you. You’re only ten years old, and you’ve come a long way. I do have plenty of questions to sort his all out, but I know you’re tired. How about I get you something to eat, and when you feel ready, we’ll start. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Okay. Do you have any Chock-O-Crisps? Or maybe just a Coke?”

Flores smiled. “I’ll see what I can do. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back. Promise.” 

Promise. That’s something he’d heard Sean talk about so many times, and yet it seemed he’d broken every single one. His brother had lied to him multiple times. Stolen in the name of survival. Asked him to use his powers for the sake of convenience at times. It had gotten them both into more than their fair share of trouble. But at the same time, Daniel knew his brother was only trying to protect him. Now, he had to learn how to do that on his own, even as he pondered what he could say to best protect Sean. Should I lie, or tell the truth? Maybe not the whole truth...I just don’t want to make things worse for him.

Maria returned a few minutes later with two Chock-O-Crisps and a can of Coke in hand. Daniel's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his favorite snacks. His face lit up. It had been months since he’d even seen or thought about them.

“Aw, yes!” he cheered as she placed them on the table. He eagerly tore into one of the bars and popped open the soda. “Thank you...I mean, gracias...so much!” 

Maria laughed quietly and sat back down across from him. 

“You don’t know Spanish, do you?”

“Nah,” the boy munched, savoring the crunch of the chocolate bar. “My dad never really taught me. I don’t know why. We didn’t use it at home. But he taught Sean. And Sean was gonna teach me, before...you know...” he put down the Chock-O-Crisp, feeling a lump in his throat. He’d lost his appetite. “...Flores?" he said weakly. "I’m sorry-” 

“Hey,” Maria said, squeezing his hand. “It’s going to be all right. Okay?” 

Daniel nodded. “It’s just...I don’t know where to start. Everything happened so fast.” 

Flores gave his hand another squeeze before letting go. “Whatever you want to say is helpful.”

“Uh...I don’t know,” Daniel breathed, looking nervously around the room. A camera was positioned to the left near the ceiling with a red illuminated light on the side. He closed his eyes, remembering similar CCTV cameras on Merrill’s farm during the heist. I could take it out, he thought to himself. Blow the door off this room and just run. But something inside was stopping him. No. I can’t run anymore. I don’t want to. And anyways, where would I go? There was no place left. No more Sean. Only his grandparents. And he wanted so badly to live with them again. “Are you guys recording this?”

“Whatever we discuss here is private. They can see us, yes. But they can’t hear us.”

“How do I know that? I’ve seen real cop shows before!” Daniel frowned and took a reluctant sip of his soda, digging his little fingers into the can. He could feel his skin growing hot. The familiar tingling sensation in his chest began to spread as the power rose inside of him. Shit, calm down! he thought. Just...stay calm. Pretend Sean is here. He willed himself to remember the sound of his brother’s voice until it became clear as day in his mind again. Just breathe. You’ve got this, enano. Slowly, the surge he felt in his bones began to subside. He continued taking the deepest of breaths, in and out, in and out. That’s it. You’re doing it, little cub. It’s okay. You’re in control. I love you. When he opened his eyes again, Maria had taken out the walkie strapped to her belt.

“Can we turn the cameras off, please?” 

“Uh...why?” a voice asked.

“Just do it! You’re not paid to question. That’s my job.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Daniel glanced over at the camera. A few seconds later, the red light went dark. 

“There, you see? It's just us."

Daniel nodded. “Thanks.” 

“So...let's start with what happened at the border. What made you feel like you had to jump out of that car?” The agent began scrawling notes on a yellow legal pad.

“Well...Sean wanted to keep going. I didn’t really want to. And I guess I just didn’t feel safe anymore? Not with him being like that. I was so sick of running.”

"He asked you to stay with him?"

"He said if we ever got separated to always remember who I am, and that he loved me," Daniel sniffled. "But then he got weird and asked me to get him through, and I just..." Daniel trailed off. His gaze fell to the wall until Flores redirected his attention.

"Daniel, look at me," she said. He obeyed. "What do you mean, 'get him through'?"

"I don't know," the boy shrugged.

"Look," Flored sighed heavily. "Normally, I'm not one to believe in impossible things. I believe in facts. I believe in evidence. And yet I know what I saw out there at the border. None of the police bullets touched that SUV. It looked like there was some...invisible force around it. Patrol cars went flying through the air. Now I’ve seen a lot of roadblocks get plowed through in my job as a federal agent. But never anything like that.” 

“I...um...” Daniel breathed, recalling Sean’s voice again in his head. Hide your power. But that had only gotten them in worse trouble, hadn’t it? 

“Take your time,” Maria said, holding his hand again. “I’m right here.” 

“Sometimes, when I get nervous or angry...things start to happen.”

“What kind of things?” 

“I don't know. It’s hard to explain.” Daniel returned to the neglected Chock-O-Crisp and soda on the table. Maybe food will help calm me. 

“Look, I know you’re scared of getting into trouble,” Maria said. “But you won’t. I want to reunite you with your family if I can. So try to think of this as another step in getting you there."

“Fine.” Daniel took another sip of his Coke before continuing. “Well...it all started in Seattle, when our dad was shot. I blacked out. I didn’t know what happened until later, when I started putting it together. Sean...acted weird. He didn’t want to tell me Dad got killed at first, but I found out. And then later on the farm, people asked questions because I messed up. He said it happened in Seattle, so...I know it had to have been me. Sean never would have killed anyone. Ever.”

“What do you mean, you messed up?”

“I'm not supposed to tell anyone what I can do." Flores looked perplexed. "Um...maybe it’s easier if I just show you,” Daniel said, feeling tense. “But you have to promise not to freak out, okay? I swear I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Flores still appeared puzzled, but nodded anyway. “Okay. Do your thing.”   

The boy extended a hand upward and focused all his thoughts on the half-empty Coke can in front of him, taking care not to expend too little or too much emotional energy. Just the right amount, enano. That’s it. Nice and slow. The can slowly rose up off the cold metal table about a foot in the air, leaving a tiny ring of condensation beneath it. Daniel rotated the can clockwise by one hundred eighty degrees, leaving it suspended before bringing it back down gently. The carbonation inside sizzled as it touched down on the surface. He glanced back up at Agent Flores, who now had a bewildered expression on her face.

“Well, that's...something,” the agent blinked a few times, then cleared her throat. “So the Seattle incident. Was that the first time you were able to do something like this?”

“I think so. But I couldn’t control it yet. Sean was always there to calm me down. We trained together a lot. I got better at it. I guess when he’s around, I feel more in control. But I’ve gotten pretty good on my own, too.”

“I see,” the agent nodded, scribbling down notes. “It’s starting to make sense now. And at the farm in Humboldt, would you say you also lost control then?” Daniel froze as Flores thumbed through the file. “We do have some photos of the damage here, but-”

“Don't show me that!” the boy cried. “I don’t want to see what I did to Sean!” Agent Flores paused a moment, a sympathetic expression on her face.

“That’s how he lost his eye, wasn’t it?”

Daniel tore his hand away from her and bent over the table, sobbing into his arms. The guilt of permanently scarring his brother would be a shame he would carry with him every day for the rest of his life, no matter how many times Sean assured him it was okay. It just wasn’t, and Daniel was reminded of that fact every time he’d looked his brother in the face to see that eye patch, that bandage, that gaping hole in his head, that little medicine kit, the bandages he’d leave in the sink in their mother’s trailer while it was still healing. It was not okay.

“I’m beginning to understand a lot,” Flores said. “How much you two care for each other, and all the things you did to protect one another, even if it meant breaking the law. Because with some of my own family history...that...I can understand.”

“I would die for him!” Daniel whimpered, picking his head up.

“I have no doubt. And that’s what concerns me, going forward. You made a very difficult choice. One that no child your age should ever have to make. I do want you to be able to have things under control if Sean doesn’t return, which is another reason I think placing you with your grandparents would be the best option for you.”

“Really? You mean it?" he said, excited but equally concerned. "I think so too.”  

“These...abilities you have. Your grandparents are aware of it?” 

“Yeah,” Daniel said reluctantly. “When we stayed with them, there was this broken cabinet that fell on Stephen. We tried getting him out, but it would have broken his leg to lift it by hand, so. I did it.” 

“That was a very brave and selfless thing to do. So was jumping out of that car.”

“I guess,” he replied, grabbing up the second chocolate bar. “But I’ve done some not so brave things with it. And a few not so selfless things. Things that hurt people...obviously.” 

“I imagine that was scary for you.” 

“I hated myself for it. Sometimes, I even heard Sean tell other people he was scared of me. I never wanted to scare or hurt him! Or anyone,” Daniel sniffed. “Maybe that’s why I broke the gate? I don’t know. I just kept thinking that...if I wasn’t around anymore, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt again. He lost a fucking eye because of me! That hurts enough to live with,” the boy said, wiping away the tears on his sleeve. 

“Hey,” Agent Flores said, coming around the table to take a knee and comfort him, “Listen, okay? I can tell you are a good person, Daniel Diaz. You didn’t deserve any of this. From all that you’ve told me, it’s clear that your brother knew he had to protect you, and you returned that favor with what you did at the border, even if some of your methods were wrong. But now? You have the chance for a fresh start and a new life with people who love you. So it’s time to start thinking about the kind of kid you want to be, and how you’re going to protect yourself and your grandparents now. I’m sure they need looking after, too.” 

“I know,” Daniel nodded. “Thanks. So what happens next?”

“Well,” Flores said, making her way back around the table, “once we return you to your grandparents, you will be assigned a court date to appear in front of a judge. However...these things always come down to hard evidence. And there may have been a, shall we say...technical malfunction with the border cameras that affected their recording capabilities early this morning. Eyewitness testimony, I’m sure, will reveal that your brother’s SUV plowed through the blockade, and that you jumped at the last second because you were scared. After that? Case closed.” 

Daniel thought about what she was saying a moment. A smile spread across his face. “Ooh, I see what you’re doing! Awesome possum. But, Agent Flores...why are you doing this for me?”

“Because even though your brother refused to believe me, I do care. And you’re ten years old. You still deserve a shot at a normal life, considering all you’ve been through.”

“Cool,” Daniel grinned.

“I may not like it, but. I’m willing to put my career on the line here. That said, there are two things you should be aware of,” Maria sighed. Her tone turned somber, and Daniel felt a sudden rush of panic. “Given what you told me and what I witnessed, I am required to make my own private report of the incident at the border today to the Bureau. After that, you may be monitored for some time. Not by local law enforcement, but at the federal level...that means the bigwigs. Unfortunately, I have no control over when it will begin or how long that period will last. It could be a few months, or a few years. Maybe even the rest of your life, depending on the level of threat they associate with your actions. Periodic visits by other federal agents will happen, and if you ever move, you would be required to report your new whereabouts to them.” 

“That sucks,” Daniel frowned. “What else?”

“Mexico has few extradition laws, so Sean will be safe there for now. But Daniel, this is too big a mess for me alone to clear up. If they discover your brother attempting to return to the United States, a warrant will be issued for his immediate arrest. The paper trail for him is long, so it will be quite a few years before any statute of limitations runs out on their ability to prosecute him. In addition to that, one of the conditions of your monitoring will also be that you are forbidden from leaving the country. Any attempt to do so would be considered a violation of your deal. In simple terms...you will probably not be seeing your brother again for a very long time. For that...I am truly sorry.” 

“Fuck!” Daniel cried, sinking down to the table. He couldn’t stomach the thought of being apart from his brother for extended periods as it was, but this... Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten out of that car, he thought. If only I had stayed with him, I’d feel safe, even if I wouldn’t be happy living in Puerto Lobos. We’d still have each other. Then again, if they were together, Sean would probably still be doing all sorts of terrible, illegal things just to continue protecting him. I’m not a little wolf anymore. I don’t need protection. I can make my own decisions and survive on my own. He considered the fact, too, that he had essentially walked out on Sean, just as their mother had. He wondered how his big brother must be feeling about him now. Probably just as hurt, betrayed, and angry as when she’d left. He wouldn’t want to see me anyway.

“Daniel,” Flores said, tearing him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to make things right. Within the next week, we’ll get you situated back with your grandparents. When that happens, there could be a bit of an adjustment period. We’re going to have to have a long chat with them about everything that’s going on from a legal standpoint, explain our requirements, and agents will make a routine visit to the home every other week for the first four months.”

“Aw man, do they have to?”

“I know it sucks. But it’s just until you’re able to start school. They’ll want to be sure you’re doing well, keeping up with your studies, not experiencing any emotional problems, not trying to run away, and above all, not...showing off. That sort of thing.”

“I’m not stupid! Sean always told me to hide my power. I’m not gonna go around using it in public or playing pranks on people.”

“You’ve played pranks?”

“Yes...but only a couple times when people were mean to us. And one time, I used it at a comic shop window when they were closed because I wanted to read the new Hawt Dawg Man!”

Agent Flores laughed. “My nephews love that show.”

“They should. It’s the best!”

“It’s good to see that you still want to be a normal kid, Daniel. I want that for you.”

“Yeah,” the boy said a bit sadly. “Me too. I really miss it. Can we get out of this room now, please? It feels like a prison.”

“Well, this is a prison,” Flores pointed out. “But yes. I just have a few calls to make for approval, send off my report, and then you, myself, and Agent Parker and Michaels will escort you to a hotel for the night. It’s a long way to Beaver Creek, so...I have to ask that you keep your head down along the way. Don’t ask too many questions or annoy the men too much. We’ll get you some fresh clothes, food, all the things you might need. For the majority of the trip, you’ll have to stay indoors or in the car to avoid any issues with law enforcement. Your profile is still out there and communication between departments isn't always the best, so the police will be on the lookout for you. Trust me, it’s just a headache for us to deal with them, as you saw earlier, so-”

“I get it,” Daniel cut her off. “I’ve hidden out plenty of times.”

“Still. This could put you on the radar very easily. It could take a few weeks before your profile is fully erased from the data banks. There are wanted posters out there in many towns. So it’s important you stay at home once you reach the Reynolds as well...at least for awhile.”

“Okay.”

“Just sit tight, all right? I’ll be back in a few.”

As Flores got up and left, Daniel took another long look at the room, recalling the last time he felt like this. I was just bored, so I came inside. I’ve seen Merrill’s safe, too. In the back of the room. What had made him so angry and frustrated that he’d want to pull off something so dangerous and stupid in the first place? Sean. But being jealous of the time his brother had spent with Cassidy seemed so silly and insignificant now. It felt like ages ago, and yet a part of him still felt trapped by all those yesterdays. Bits and pieces of their trip and the many experiences they’d shared on their long journey to the border were trickling down in his mind. That scared him in a way. What if it became a raging flood? What if he messed up and flipped the car on the way to Beaver Creek, or worse...destroyed his grandparents’ home?

“Just breathe, enano,” the little wolf said out loud. “And don’t you dare stop until you get to Beaver Creek.”

Just breathe, little cub. I’ve got you.

“No, Sean. You don’t. I’m all alone...fuck Independence Day.”  

Chapter Text

Once upon a time...in a wild, wild world...there were two wolf brothers, living happy together in their mother’s lair after a long journey on the road. You see, their papa wolf had been slain by hunters, so they had to stay on the run for a long time because the hunters wanted their pelts, too. As they tried to make their way south to their father’s beloved homeland, the hunters finally caught up with them. Desperate to survive, the older wolf brother tried to make a blood pact with his sibling. He said it was too late to turn back. But the younger brother, who was a Super Wolf, was too afraid to cross the border. Still, he knew at least one of them deserved their freedom. So he helped his brother escape, and willingly gave himself up to the hunters, who promised to be kind to the pup in exchange for his cooperation. The young Super Wolf suddenly felt all alone in the world. He didn’t know if he could control his powers without the help of his big brother. Even worse...he feared that in a strange new land, the older wolf might find a new pack, and forget all about him...

Daniel slumped down with his back against the bathroom door after a long, hot shower. The agents out in the hotel room were still arguing about the action movie blaring on the television, but he barely noticed. The young wolf was far too consumed in a waterfall of thoughts. As he had feared, it seemed that the further north they traveled, the more forgotten memories of his time together with Sean came rushing back. They replayed themselves over and over on an endless uncomfortable loop, like a film that would never stop until there was no more to be gleaned. Then the next frame would play, and another, and another.

“So you’re just going to leave me all alone with Mushroom? W-what if something happens to us? Or the cops come?”

“Daniel...we have to get food if we’re going to survive out here, and neither of us know how to hunt or set traps. I won’t be gone long. I just need to explore so we know where we are. Just...stay hidden here until I get back, okay?”

“When’s that gonna be?”

“I don’t know,” Sean said sadly. “Maybe a couple hours.”

“You promise? You better not lie to me again, like you did about Dad!”

“Daniel...I’ll get back as fast as I can.”

“Whatever. I don’t know why we can’t go with you. I hate when you do this, and I hate being stuck out here in the cold!”

“I’m not risking you getting caught!”

“No. Just me and Shroom freezing to death! Guess you’re fine with that.”

“Ugh, can you just stop being a fucking brat for once? I’m doing my best here.”

“Whatever! Just go, Sean! I don’t care if you don’t come back.”

“Enano...I know you don’t mean that.”

“Just leave,” Daniel whimpered.

“I’m sorry...I promise I’ll be back. I love you...”

Those first nights in Willamette National Park, he remembered, were terrible. There was no edible food left in the house, and they had exhausted their previous week’s supplies by the time they discovered it. Minutes passed, then hours. Daniel had counted every single one on his watch. Still not back. Two hours turned into four. Four hours turned into six. Sean, where are you? By the seventh hour, the batteries in his watch died. He had holed himself up in the bedroom with Mushroom, covering them in their father’s old blanket for warmth. It was so cold and quiet, he could see the heat of his breath in the sliver of moonlight that shone through the window. Mushroom wouldn’t stop whining.

“I’m so sorry, Shroom. You don’t deserve this. But maybe I do, for being a bad little brother. What if something happened to Sean?” But soon enough, after nearly ten long hours, he heard the door slide open in the living room, and in walked his brother.

“Hey, enano...you okay?” Daniel had run out to him in tears with renewed strength. Tears of overwhelming relief, but also anger. Sean dropped the bag of groceries to the floor. Mushroom joined them, wagging her tail in excitement, sniffing around for food. Her sweet bark was one he’d never forget.

“Don’t you dare ever leave me again Sean, you ASSHOLE!” the boy cried. Sean cried too, one of the few times he ever dared in front of him.

“I’m sorry! God, I’m so sorry! I promise I’ll never leave you like that again!”

“But you did,” Daniel sniffed. His bare knees were soaked in tears now, his back burning and crooked against the frail wooden door as he cradled himself. The towel around him was turning damp. What remained of the heat in the bathroom quickly dissipated, leaving the tile floor as cold as that abandoned bedroom in which his brother had left him so many months ago. Daniel glanced at the clock on the wall. Shit...it’s been an hour. He listened for the agents outside, but heard nothing. They must have finally turned off the television. Did they go somewhere? A knock came at the door.

“Hey!” the man called. Agent Michaels. “Everything all right in there?”

“Yeah, sorry!” Daniel answered, standing up from floor. Muffled voices came from outside as they spoke with each other.

“You think he’s been doing what...you know, young boys do?”

“Doubt it.”

“Why?”

“You’re new at this, aren’t you? They were on the road a long time, always together. Hiding from cops, working odd jobs, getting the shit kicked out of them from all directions. Having guns pointed in their faces. Getting rained on, snowed on, pissed on, digging through garbage in back alleys. His brother was the only friend he had. The kid’s only ten and has eight months worth of mental shit to work through, which at that age, is a good chunk of your life. Plus separation anxiety. An hour in the bathroom? That’s nothing. Most victims I’ve picked up spend a good night or two in there. He’ll come out when he’s ready.”

Daniel ran a hand through the condensation on the mirror to look at his face. He felt shaky and anxious, disconnected from everything that had happened, yet inexplicably chained to it. If I'd made a different choice...to go with Sean instead of leaving him, where would I be? And if he surrendered...would I have agreed with it? These were questions he felt would plague him for the rest of his life. But now, there was no turning back. He would be with his grandparents soon. He only hoped he would be as happy there as Sean probably was in Mexico. Plus, he already had a friend right next door. Things would be good...wouldn’t they? “I need more room,” he sighed. “And rest.” The tiny motel bathroom was beginning to feel like a cage.

The young wolf removed the towel and grabbed the set of fresh clothes they’d bought him earlier off the sink. He had begged the agents to stop at a mall on the way. LOGOS was Sean’s favorite skate store, and he’d noticed the sign on the street. They offered an array of skateboard decks, backpacks, skate shoes, and several lines of designer clothing, one of which was the xSquad line to which his brother’s hoodie belonged. Everything by xSquad was wolf-themed. In a way, it comforted him to have that piece of Sean still around. One of the agents, Parker, was nice enough to look up the store catalogue so he could pick out the specific clothes he wanted. Daniel opted for a black hoodie that had the logo of a small gray wolf on the top left corner of the front—the same design as Sean’s. Another large gray wolf was emblazoned across the entire back, with white eyes and snarling teeth. It looked threatened and angry. That’s how I feel right now, he thought.

The other items he’d chosen were a gray T-shirt with a golden yellow tribal-designed wolf on the front, along with some black jeans, fuzzy checkerboard socks, Vans shoes, and lastly, a pair of pajama pants with cartoon skulls all over them. Not exactly the bright-colored options he used to love as a kid; then again, he no longer saw the world that way, and didn’t feel like much of a kid anymore. Everything he’d been through with Sean had changed him, and he wasn’t sure it was for the better. He felt bad, too, for making the agents spend so much money on him, but why not milk it a little? Flores even said he deserved it.

Once dressed in his new pajamas, Daniel finally opened the door.

“About time,” said Agent Michaels, who had clearly been pacing around awaiting his exit.

“Yeah, that’s not stalkery at all,” Parker yawned on the bed.

“Sorry,” Daniel sighed. “Just...I miss Sean...I had to do some thinking.”

“I know,” Parker acknowledged, standing to face him as the boy walked over. The kind middle-aged man placed his hands on Daniel’s shoulders. “Look, kid. I’m just a federal agent here, I'm not a shrink. But I’ve seen some shit, so I can only guess what you’re going through. Fact is, there’s going to be a lot of nights like this. Nights where...all the crap from the past just slams you in the head, and you can’t stop thinking about it. Then maybe you’ll have a day where you’re smiling, free, feeling on top of the world. Then another few nights of shit. But eventually, the more time that goes on? You get more days where you’re happy again, and less of the bad stuff.”

“I hope so. I’m just so...angry. I hate myself for leaving him, but...I still care about him. I want to see him again someday. But he probably hates me too. I would.”

“So right now,” the man shrugged, “let’s say he does. But bonds between brothers don’t just disappear, no matter how far apart you are. He’ll get over it, and you’ll both get through this. Okay?”

“I guess...”

“Just promise me one thing, all right?”

“What?

“That no matter how many nights of mental crap you go through, you’ll talk to someone if it gets really bad. That you remember that no matter what anyone else says, you’re still the same kid, and you have a family who loves you. Never forget that. All right?”

“I won’t,” Daniel nodded, wiping a stray tear from his face. “I promise. Thanks, Agent Parker.”

“No problem.”

“And thanks for the clothes, too. They fit just right.”

“I’m glad,” the man smiled. “Well hey, I’m gonna hit the sack in the next room over,” he said, patting the boy’s shoulder. “Agent Michaels here will be guarding the door all night in case you need anything.”

“Cool,” Daniel grinned. “I get my own Secret Service!”

“Don’t let it go to your head, kid,” Michaels said, turning to Parker. “You know you owe me a Starbucks in the morning!”

“Sorry, no can do.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Too expensive. Besides, you know the Bureau doesn’t pick up the tab to keep us awake.”

“But you just bought him clothes!”

“Exactly. Bureau doesn’t cover that either. How ‘bout Dunkin instead?”

“Cheapskate!”

“Goodnight, Agent Michaels,” Parker said sarcastically, closing the door behind him.

Daniel chuckled at their interaction. It reminded him a lot of his friendship with Finn back in California, and the way they’d joke around about Big Joe. He missed all the others, too. Hannah, with her blunt honesty, never afraid to speak her mind. Penny, with his cryptic words and riddles that always meant something deeper. Ingrid and Anders, the two Swedish tourists who seemed so much more understanding of the world than most Americans.

Aside from Finn, the one Daniel missed most was Jacob. The young man had taken care of him after the incident at the farm, and even though he’d ended up in a worse place, there were still some happy moments at the commune. He especially missed Jacob’s little sister, Sarah Lee. He hoped she was still doing well. Maybe when I get to Beaver Creek, I could check up on the Hackermans. It’d be so cool if Claire and Stephen let them visit sometime.

The young boy yawned as Agent Michaels moved for the door.

“You gonna be all right in here by yourself?” he asked.

“Yeah...I think so. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna try to run away or anything.”

“That’s actually not our first concern. Trashing the room or blowing holes in the wall? That’s a little higher on the list.”

“Relax, I’m not gonna do that either! I have control over my powers.”

“For now,” the agent said. “Maybe we should get you a shock collar, just in case.”

Daniel frowned. Not a good thing to say to wolf. Especially a Super Wolf.

“Kidding,” the man smirked. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well it’s not funny! I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need anything. I’ll be watching from the car.”

“Good!”

Daniel scowled as the man made a quick exit. He used his telekinesis to slam the door shut and lock it behind him in case he didn’t get the message. Stupid ass hunters. Still tired from the trip, the boy plodded over to turn on the A/C beneath the window. Once it was cool enough, he pulled on his fresh new hoodie, lay down on the bed, and turned off the light. It was strange to feel so uncomfortable in such a room. Before long, he had gotten back up and opened the windows a crack. That’s a little better. For months, Daniel had been so used to listening to all the night sounds that now, it was hard to fall asleep without them. The distant hum of traffic out here was a welcome change from the heat of living in the Nevada commune, his mother’s trailer back in Away, or being cooped up in prison cells. Part of him wished Sean was there to experience it with him.

“Guess I have to be the one to tell myself the story now,” he sighed. “How’s it go? Once upon a time, in a wild, wild world, there were two wolf brothers living in their home lair with their papa wolf. They lived in peace. One day, hunters came and took their dad away...forever...” Daniel sniffed, feeling emotional at the words. “So they had to go on the run. That’s when the big brother discovered that the little one was not an ordinary wolf, but a Super Wolf...”

By the time he got around to the part about Humboldt, he had already drifted away.

*          *          *

Daniel lay facing the windows, somewhere between wake and sleep. A cool breeze began to envelop the dark motel room, rustling locks of dark brown hair over his forehead. Out in the distance, a truck horn sounded, buried in the flow of traffic somewhere up on the freeway. Stars hooked in their places shone down through the open curtains, illuminating the face of the sleeping angel in an array of tiny, white, wish-making dots mixed with blue. Soon enough, the din of cars in the night air began to fade. The child descended deeper.

Wake up, little cub, an ancient voice called. The room grew colder the more he tried to identify it. Wake. Then came the whoosh of a gentle stream, echoing outside the window, carrying with it a chorus of disembodied voices trapped in the current. These ones seemed vaguely familiar to him, though the young wolf could not pinpoint how. Enano. Daniel opened his heavy eyes to the sight before him. Across the street stood a dilapidated old church, and up on the rooftop sat a hunched, shadowy figure that immediately commanded his attention. A pair of eerie red eyes glared in his direction with a stark gaze, as if keeping watch. Daniel rubbed the sleep from his face and squinted to see it better. A black timber wolf.

“Can you hear them?” the ancient voice spoke in his mind.

“Hear what?”

“The river...it calls.”

Daniel sat up on the bed now, looking onward through the vacant windows. The parking lot had since disappeared, replaced by a large desert valley. Patches of wild grass grew here and there, leading up to a rushing river where the street used to be. All the while, the chorus of voices grew louder, beckoning him forth. He squinted again, extending a hand to will the breeze away from his face. The old wolf was now perched atop a cliff. As it reared back and let out a howl, the door to the hotel room unlocked and flew open, bringing in hurricane winds and rain. The clouds in the sky above opened up to reveal a full moon. Daniel rose from the bed and made his way through the open doorway, struggling against the force of the storm.

“Remember your ancestors, young wolf,” the voices whispered from the river. “Why have you betrayed us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Daniel shouted, stumbling barefoot out into the wet sand and grass, his hand held in front of him to dispel the rain. A sharp pain suddenly caught the top of his right foot, bringing him to his knees. “Ouch! What the hell?” His eyes darted to the ground, where a lone scorpion crawled over the back of his calf. The boy shook it off, watching it scurry off around a large cactus. Lightning flashed in the distance. Daniel directed his gaze to the top of the plant and noticed something odd growing out of it. A painted wooden face appeared to look down on him, scarred and angry, with layers of golden straw positioned around it like hair. A totem? Then he noticed something else draped over a set of what appeared to be eagle wings beneath the face—a red bandana.

“What...who is that?”

“You must honor your blood.”

A bright white light shot out from behind him and engulfed Daniel from afar, generating an intense burning sensation across the length of his entire body. His clothes caught fire. He screamed and ran for the river in his pajamas, splashing across the narrows until he sunk like a stone. Sunk, though kept burning, even as the flames ate away at his golden skin. A putrid stench stung his nostrils and reached down to his lungs. The river...it wasn’t water. Gasoline. Daniel struggled and thrashed with all his might to reach back to the surface, to reach sand, to roll and put out the fire, anything. No use. He continued his descent to the very bottom of the river, his bare, fiery feet illuminating the sea floor, where a road of skulls extended as far as the eye could see.

“Many have tried to cross, but few retain their blood,” the voice whispered. Daniel listened closely as it morphed into a comforting voice he knew, but had long since forgotten the sound of. His father. The fire that consumed him suddenly subsided. His vision went black and his body fell numb, until all that remained in the absence of every other sense was that soft, sweet sound.

“Your blood ties are the most important thing, mijo. In this land, it’s easy to burn them in offering. It’s easy to give up your voice, even your skin, to forget who you are. To try to blend in with the light. But even as Liberty’s torch promises to guide your way...it can also destroy you. Take care not to burn the river, my son. Respect where you came from.”

“I will!” the boy cried out. “I promise, I-”

Daniel suddenly found himself in a seated position somewhere else. He opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings, frantic. It was the front passenger seat of an SUV. He leaned over to check the back, then the front. No one else was in the car. Then he noticed the stained gray dashboard. The gear shift. The steering wheel, the odometer. The police scanner. I know this car. Up ahead through the windshield lay the sight that had forever changed everything. The sky was pitch black. A large, gated fence stood between him and the winding desert road ahead. And there, emblazoned atop it in bright red, was the most haunting sign in the world:

BIENVENIDO A MÉXICO

His heart sunk. His palms began sweating. His pulse quickened until he heard its deep pounding in his ears. No... He couldn’t do it again. No way. He didn’t even want to think about it anymore, much less commit to memory the hardest decision he’d ever had to make. Even if Sean wasn’t there, he couldn’t stand another second of sitting in that car. Daniel reached for the door handle and tore out as fast he could onto the burning pavement. The breeze outside was humid, suffocating. His throat felt dryer than the sands that surrounded him. A slight tickle of something loose ran up his side, and he looked down to survey his clothing. It was the same tattered red shirt he’d been wearing that day.   

Daniel made his way through the dark across the path of scorched concrete, twisted metal, and crushed glass. Police cars and the bodies of officers lay strewn about the wreckage, broken and bleeding. Crows and vultures were picking apart their remains, while the sound of static on distant radios startled some of them. The boy paused to catch his breath. This experience felt far too vivid to be a dream, and yet somehow, he knew he had to press on and confront the decision he’d made. Just keep walking, he thought. Just get to Mexico and this will all be over. A series of yips, growls, and snarling noises greeted him as he neared the gate. Wild coyotes.

“What the hell?” he breathed. The flashing headlights of several overturned squad cars illuminated the vicious, bloodthirsty pack before him. Some began to chew their way through the border fence, while others leapt over concrete barriers or ducked beneath steel beams. They growled as they approached him, their coats and teeth dripping with crimson. “Stay calm, just stay calm,” Daniel told himself as he arrived at the gate. Another pack eyed him hungrily from the other side, while the rest advanced behind. “Fuck it.”

The young wolf child extended his hand toward the gate, allowing the sum of all the rage and hate infecting his bones to take control of the beast inside him. In one swift motion, he released the pent up power from his veins. “RAAHHH!” The gate blasted outward with locomotive force to the other side, catching the second pack of coyotes in its bars and sending them flying back like rats in a trap against either side of the fence. They were instantly crushed. Blood splattered everywhere on both sides of the border, leaving several survivors howling and whining in the throes of a slow, painful death.

“That’s what you get!” the boy snapped. He turned and continued on down the long desert road ahead into the unfamiliar land of his ancestors. The breeze on this side of the wall was cold and unforgiving, a sharp contrast to the prior heat of America. It felt almost as dead as the coyotes he’d left behind. In truth, he had always suspected he might feel that way here, which was one of many reasons he hadn’t wanted to go to Puerto Lobos. He didn’t feel free with Sean no matter where they went, because it was always temporary. And though no one would be hunting them south of the border, the notion of living in Mexico had never made him feel particularly comfortable, alive, or connected. No wonder everyone wants to leave, he thought. A sudden swell of heat shot through his chest as a memory overtook him.

“You’re getting warm!” he heard his own voice echo eerily through the darkened wasteland. “Just a little bit closer!” A pair of yellow four-way flashers appeared in the distance. Daniel felt the air grow thin around him with every weighted step, but he willed himself to continue on. “Ah! It burns!” Another voice came, this one from the direction of the car up ahead.

“Daniel...come on.”

“So we came all this way? All that SHIT...for nothing?! You told me we were going to Mexico! You promised! You said-”

“We’re done! The end. It’s not who we are!”

His foot brushed past a ring of keys.

“Then I guess it’s my turn to take care of us, Sean...nothing stops the Wolf Brothers. Nothing.”

“Daniel, what are you doing?! No, STOP!”

The young wolf held his breath now. He had to reach that car. Railing against the intense, suffocating heat that enveloped him, Daniel ran as fast as he could toward the SUV. It felt like running on a treadmill, running to nowhere. The seconds felt like minutes and those minutes like hours, until finally he stopped at an open passenger door. The car was still on with the ignition sensor was dinging—the same vehicle he’d left behind at the border. But this time, the interior looked quite different. Several bullets had penetrated the windshield and lodged themselves into the driver’s side seat, where a skeleton sat clutching its neck. Blood was splattered all over the dashboard, seats, and driver’s side window. Daniel’s mouth dropped open in horror when he noticed the gray jeans the figure seemed to be wearing, which were adorned with various patches. Sean.

“Oh no...oh no, no, no!” the boy cried. “What did I do? What the fuck did I do?!” He looked around the rest of the car for any possible clues. His brother’s old backpack that he’d given him was left behind in the vehicle, but there was no sign of Sean’s belongings. Daniel checked his own bag. Everything in it was gone, aside from a couple toys and, strangely enough, Chris’s Captain Spirit cape. “How could I ever leave this behind...”

Daniel climbed back out of the car in a panic. But the moment he did, the door slammed shut behind him, and the boy found himself pinned to the exterior by some invisible force, unable to move. He tried stepping forward, but all he could do was kick sand until his feet no longer touched the ground. His body slid upward against the window. He choked in agony as the force restricted all his airways. He tried freeing himself in desperation, but his own powers, he realized, were now gone.

Daniel’s gaze moved from the ground up to his assailant, a dark figure clad in black shorts and what looked like Sean’s blood-stained hoodie. The child was his own size and build, but the top half of the boy’s face was covered in thick black grease paint.

“Who the hell are you?!” the young wolf rasped.

With his left hand, the boy pulled back the hood covering his head and face to reveal a mop of long, dirty, dark brown hair.

“El Lobo,” the boy smiled. “Super Wolf was weak. Turns out Mexico wasn’t so bad after all.” Daniel looked back to the open door of the car. “Yeah...I lost a lot because of my choice that day...but now? I take whatever I WANT!” The child tightened his grip, proceeding to choke the life out of him.

“No! Stop! Honor your blood! HONOR YOUR BLOOD!”

*          *          *

“Honor your blood!” Daniel woke up screaming in a cold sweat. A sudden surge of energy shot through his veins, awakening all his senses at once. The second he realized what was about to happen, he cradled himself into a fetal position and clenched every muscle in his body to stop it. “No, no, no, SHIT!” he grit his teeth. He felt himself careening toward the edge. There was no more holding back. All that emotion had to go somewhere. He would lose control either way, he knew. But the less damage he caused to that room, the better. The young wolf huffed and panted. If he blew out the windows or caused any manner of structural damage, there would be no going home to his grandparents.

“Focus!” he told himself. “Come on, Super Wolf...GAHHH!”  The entire room shook around him as his bed lifted a few inches off the floor. The lights flickered. The drawer of the nightstand fell out and broke, shredding Gideon Bible pages everywhere. A phone went flying into the opposite wall, where an audible crack sounded, followed by a loud crash and a bang. Daniel’s muscles felt as if they might burst through his skin at any moment, but he kept concentrating, harder than he ever had, harder than he even dared. Breath, his mother had told him, was the most important thing to keep anxiety under control. So the young wolf kept breathing. And breathing. And breathing. Until at last, the feeling subsided, and the fire went out. When it was all over, Daniel let go and opened his eyes.

“Whew, that was close,” he breathed. But no sooner had he gotten things under some semblance of control, than Agent Michaels barged in through the door to assess the situation.

“Hey! Holy shit...” The man surveyed the room, and Daniel sat up in his bed to do the same. The nightstand was destroyed for sure. So was the phone, and the mirror that had been hanging above the dresser. Aside from that, everything else seemed to be intact. “Agent Flores,” the man spoke into his jacket mic, “you still awake?”

“I am now, Michaels,” the woman answered groggily. “What is it?”

“Code Super Wolf.”

“Copy,” Flores answered. “I’ll be right down.”

Daniel hung his head in shame, drawing his knees up to his chest on the bed. Parker entered moments later, clad in boxers and an undershirt. He had the same expression on his face as his partner. Everything I touch turns to poison, the boy thought. How was he going to survive on his own without Sean? I can’t. They’re probably going to send me away, lock me up and throw away the keys, never let me see my family again. Or worse, they’d turn him into a human guinea pig to be poked and prodded with needles and endless blood samples in some kind of military experiment. He remembered almost a year ago when the first season of Stranger Things hit Netflix, and Noah had invited him over to watch it together. Pretty insane how things turned out just three months later. Now I know how Eleven must feel.

“Dios mio, what happened?!” Flores exclaimed, rushing into the room in a dark blue silk bathrobe and slippers.

“I had a bad dream and freaked out when I woke up,” Daniel explained. “I tried my best to stop it, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey...hey,” Flores said, joining him on the bed. “It’s okay, Danny-”

“It’s not! Why does everyone keep saying that?!” he snapped. “It’s my fault! Just because I’m a kid doesn’t mean I’m innocent. You should just take me to jail right now before I hurt someone.” Daniel cried, burying his face in his knees again.

“Aye, hijo, just listen,” Flores sighed. “I told you what I think is best for you, based on all you’ve been through and the choice that you made to jump out of that car. You can’t blame yourself, especially at these early stages, for one little slip. It’s going to happen, but you still have control.”

“Little slip?!” Daniel spat.

“YES!” Flores shot back. “Because look.” She placed a firm hand under his chin to direct his gaze around the room. “Look at all this. Yes, the mirror is broken. The nightstand is on the floor. The phone is wrecked. But these are all easily replaceable items. You didn’t blow out the windows, you didn’t break the light bulbs, you didn’t crack the walls or even break the bed frame. So,” she shrugged, “big fucking deal. I don’t know what kind of dream you had, but even with as scared and upset as you’ve been, you still managed not to wipe out the entire room. And you, Daniel Diaz, did that all on your own! So enough of this shit about needing your brother to help you. He’s not the only one who can, and you’re certainly stronger than you think you are without him. So I’m going to ask you this question once, and only once. Do you honestly think you deserve to be in prison? Really?”

Daniel shook his head. “No...I guess not.”

“Good. Neither do I. Because you’ve been through enough, and you’re doing a fantastic job right now,” she said, still grasping his chin firmly.  “Okay? You need to give yourself credit for that. I certainly do.”

“Thank you,” Daniel nodded tearfully.

“Now, try and get some sleep. We’ve got another two day’s drive ahead of us before we get to Beaver Creek.”

As the agents left the room, Daniel plopped back down on the bed, more exhausted than ever before. He prayed he wouldn’t have to go through anything like that again, and yet what Flores told him gave him a small amount of comfort. Deep down, he had known she was right. Before long, the young wolf drifted off to sleep, content that he’d done his best for the day.

This time, there were no dreams.

Chapter Text

The freeway traffic came in loud like a raging monster, even from the faraway distance of the rest area. Daniel leaned back against the hot frame of the car and pressed the phone harder to his face to hear. It was 3:47 PM. The dial tone rang, and rang, and rang. He’d been trying since noon to get a hold of Claire and Stephen with no luck. “Hello, you’ve reached the Reynolds residence,” Stephen’s gentle voice spoke for the thousandth time. “Sorry that we’re not around to answer your call. We’re probably out running errands. Please leave us your name and number, and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. We hope you have a wonderful day, and God bless.”

“Ugh,” the boy sighed and hung up, adjusting his dark sunglasses. He hated those things, but Agent Flores insisted he wear them out in public. At least he didn’t have to squint in the sunlight anymore. The heat was still terrible. He looked back through Parker’s phone to check the weather app. 96 degrees. Man, I feel that. The chewing gum stuck in his cheek was quickly turning bland, so he spit it out. Michaels’ choice of Juicy Fruit was awful. “Ooh, I wonder if Parker has Mustard Party 2...YES, score!” the boy grinned happily, tapping the familiar Hawt Dawg Man icon. As he began playing somewhat absentmindedly, he sat down on the ground to see if he could make out any of the conversation going on between the agents on the other side of the car.

“So I have to say, what you did last night,” Parker said. “It was very cool.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Flores assured him. “He just needed some tough love, that’s all. He probably didn’t have much of that growing up. At least not from a woman.”

 “Latina women in general seem to have that knack for keeping control of a situation,” Parker chuckled. “Certainly more so than me.”

“I’m going to pretend you did not just say that,” Flores sighed.

“Sorry.”

“But...I suppose some of it is true. There’s no better behaved children than those raised by Latina mothers. Growing up in America after you’ve immigrated, especially if you’re not white, is...difficult. You work extra hard to help your children fit in and stay respectful. I try to see a lot of myself in these kids, but. It’s a new generation. Many of the problems that stared me in the face when I first came here, they have little knowledge or experience of. Teenagers today, they seem to integrate better into the culture, thanks to technology. There’s a certain bliss in ignorance, until real life hits them and reminds them of who they really are. Much as things are changing, they stay the same. Children like Sean and Daniel Diaz, even if they are mixed, even if they are ‘integrated’...they will never be viewed as white, much less equal. And I feel that’s a much harder thing for this generation to grasp. Easy to ignore...until you can’t anymore.”

“So what made you decide to go from Maria to ‘Special Agent Flores’?”

“That’s a very good question,” Maria sighed. “Sometimes, I ask myself the same. I suppose I wanted to be a good role model for my future children, and for all Hispanic women who come to the United States seeking a better life. But with the way everything has changed over the past year...sometimes I question whether I’m still doing the right thing. I’ve had to compromise myself a lot for the sake of my career. Far more than men, and certainly more than white women. The few times I spoke with Sean, I found myself acting like someone I never wanted to be. As federal agents, we’re bound to certain rules. We are told to detach ourselves from the criminals we bring in, but the Diaz brothers...they are not your typical run-of-the-mill bad boys. And of course, I share a culture and a heritage with them I cannot simply ignore. I understand what it’s like to always have that target on your back, whether you’re a criminal or not, because that same target has always been on mine. Is it the right thing to deny who you are, placing similar targets on others, while hoping those in power no longer notice yours? I’m not so sure.”

“Geez, I’m sorry,” Parker said sadly. “I can’t fault you for wanting to create change, but. Man, that must be a total mindfuck.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“So this thing we’re doing to help out Daniel. You have faith that it’s the right thing?”

“Undeniably,” Flores said without hesitation.

“You’re not at all worried about losing-”

“My career?” she cut him off. “Of course I am. But sacrificing who I am seems a much greater problem. In the grand scheme of things, a job is a small price to pay. If I can remove some unnecessary targets on my way down, maybe save a few lives...all the better.”

“Damn, I wish every agent was like you.”

“I’m not a hero by any means, Parker. And with this, I’m probably even less of the role model I wanted to be. I just...need to make things right. That said, I don’t expect anyone to follow me. You men have families to take care of. So if at any point, you or Agent Michaels decide-”

“Oh stop! This shit’s bigger than us, and you know it.”

“It is. And that’s precisely why I would never blame you. These aren’t things we talk about in the Bureau. I just want you to understand the unnecessary risk you’d be taking to yourself and your family, if you choose to stick with me.”

“I do. Look, my kid’s in America, but yours is still in Mexico. So if there’s any chance that you might take the fall for this, I’m sure as hell backing you up. And taking care of your kid, if it should ever come to that.”

“You are a very kind-hearted man, Agent Parker,” Flores said, holding her composure. “I hope you understand that even that is a luxury.”

Daniel exited out of Mustard Party 2 just in time to see Parker heading around the back of the SUV. He went back into the phone app so the man wouldn’t know what he’d been up to. He had promised to only use it for calling Claire and Stephen. It was a business phone after all, and he was sure there were copious amounts of sensitive FBI secrets tucked away elsewhere on it.

“Hey kid. You ready to hit the road again?”

“Oh um, yeah! Uh, is it okay if I just try to make one more call to...someone else?”

“And who might that be?” the agent crossed his arms.

“A friend. From Seattle.”

“Daniel, we talked about that,” Parker said sternly. “You can’t afford to put yourself on the radar right now. Anyone’s radar, particularly any friends from your old life who might have a certain opinion on what happened. Or hell, people who might still have wiretaps on their phones. Now you’re getting a fresh start in Beaver Creek. A chance like that doesn’t come easy, or even often. My suggestion? Don’t screw this up.”

“I know, I just...wanted to let Lyla know I’m okay.”

“Lyla, huh?” Parker smirked. “Old girlfriend?”

“N-no, it was nothing like that!” the boy got defensive.

“That’s adorable,” the man chuckled.

“Shut up! So...can I call her? Please?”

“Well, let me think,” the agent said thoughtfully. “No! Now hand it over. If your grandparents call, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Ugh, fine,” Daniel sighed, relinquishing the device. “You guys suck.”

“Stop your whining and maybe I’ll get you box of Chock-O-Crisps at the next stop.”

“Ooh, you think we can get McDonald’s too? I could really go for a double cheeseburger and a vanilla shake!”

“Now we’re talking! I’m starving.”

As Daniel went to get back in the car with his own private security team, something stopped him. Off in the distance at one of the picnic tables, a young black couple was seated with their older son eating sandwiches. The younger child, who was about six, was running around giggling as he happily chased after their Jack Russell terrier, trying in vain to take back the tennis ball it had just fetched.

“Pongo, come here!” the kid called. The dog raced past him, dodging every attempt he made to grab the ball. “I’m gonna get you! Pongo, come back. Pongo!” The little boy looked on sadly as his pet reached the table and gave the ball back to the father.

“Jamal!” the man dropped his sandwich and rushed over, scooping up the child in his arms and giving him a big kiss on the cheek. “You ready to eat, son? Pongo certainly looks ready!”

“He hates me Daddy,” the kid whined.

“Oh nonsense, our boy Pongo don’t hate nobody! Look at him. He’s full of love for his family, just like we’re all full of love for you. Now what kinda sandwich you want buddy, chicken or turkey?”

“Turkey!”

“Turkey it is! And...a big cup of chocolate pudding for our boy Jamal! You know I love you, right son?”

“I love you too, Daddy!”

“Attaboy,” the man said, kissing the smiling child.

Daniel felt bad for watching them, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight and how perfect it all seemed. He missed everything about that picture. Having a family, even if it was just them and their dad. Having an older brother to play with. Their dog Mushroom, who they’d lost too soon, and especially their father. The younger kid reminded him of his friend Noah, too. I hope he still keeps up with his rapping, wherever he is now. He had some sweet hooks. The young wolf took off his sunglasses and gazed longingly at them one last time before climbing in the back seat of the SUV, feeling far removed from anything that could be considered a normal life. He’d so far been happy throughout the day, but something about that sight played on his nerves. He hoped things would be just as good in Beaver Creek—even if it was a little different. God, I can’t wait to see Chris again.

“Everything okay?” Parker asked, eyeing him in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah...”

As he put the car in reverse, the agent looked over at the happy family enjoying their meal, then back at Daniel.

“Guess we better make it an extra large milkshake,” the man winked.

Daniel smiled. Maybe this day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

*          *          *

Following their long day on the road, Agent Flores and Michaels decided on staying at a Ramada Inn about six hours out from Beaver Creek. The location felt particularly eerie to Daniel, being that the hotel was in Nevada. They were much closer to Haven Point than they were to Oregon. Tomorrow would entail a couple hours trek across the desert, and he wasn’t excited to see any signs for that awful old town to remind him of what Lisbeth had done to him...and Sean. The dreams he had about the experience now were thankfully few and far between, but the fear of seeing her again had been on his mind ever since he’d overheard Flores discussing their route.

“I don’t feel so good,” the boy groaned, plodding into their third floor room.

“I know what you mean,” Parker sighed. “Those chicken nuggets haven’t been sitting well with me.”

“It’s not that. How close are we to Haven Point again?”

“We went over this already,” Agent Michaels rolled his eyes. “We’re not driving through that dump of a town.”

“Not even on the hill above it?”

“Well, I can’t exactly guarantee that,” Parker admitted. “That highway is the fastest route to get us to Beaver Creek. Look, if it bothers you that much, you don’t even have to look out the window. But I don’t feel like tacking on another, what...two?”

“Three hours,” Michaels corrected.

“Three hours to our trip on some back roads, just so you can avoid a few minutes of crossing through some tiny little hell hole? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Daniel. We won’t let it.”

“I don’t know,” the boy said shakily.

Agent Michaels sighed. “Well...there’s always chloroform.”

“Chloroform?!” Parker spat in disbelief.

“What?”

“I was going to say Benadryl, and your first thought to help him sleep through Haven Point was chloroform?! Get the hell out of here, go!” he shooed him away. “Go to bed right now!”

“Jesus, it was just a joke,” Michaels said, exiting the room.

“Yeah, a sick one!”

“Uh...what’s chloroform?” Daniel asked.

“Nothing,” Parker assured him. “Stupid adult jokes you’re better off not knowing.”

“Oh. Sooo...who’s gonna be watching the door tonight?”

“Nobody. I’m going to be staying in one of these beds, so. You take your pick of whichever one you want.”

“Um, okay. I’ll take the one near the TV!” Daniel said excitedly. In truth, he felt a bit awkward about sharing a room with one of the agents. Then again, he fully understood the reason why. He had already almost wrecked the last room he was in. They weren’t about to trust him with sleeping alone in another. If this happens when I’m at grandma and grandpa’s, I’m screwed. He did his best not to think about it as he reached for the TV remote and sat down to check out the channels. The first thing that flashed on the screen upon powering up was an advertisement of something...inappropriate.

“Are you feeling lonely tonight? Maybe you’ve had a long, hard day and need to work off some stress? Don’t sweat it, big boy. You deserve some company. Call our toll-free number now to chat with one of our hot, sexy, single-”

“WHOA, I don’t think so!” Parker panicked, rushing over to shut off the television.

“Relax, I was about to change the channel!” Daniel protested. “That stuff is gross anyway.”

“You’re damn right it is,” the man chuckled.

“I-I think I’ll take a shower. Still feel icky from today.”

“Good, you go do that while I work on finding something more age appropriate.”

After grabbing a quick change of clothes from his bag, Daniel headed for the bathroom. He turned on the water for the tub and adjusted the heat level to his liking before starting the shower, closing the door behind him. Another prison cell, he thought. Memories of his time with Lisbeth were racking his mind. He could have sworn he saw scissors on the edge of the tub for a moment. He checked his hair. Still a bit long. That bowl cut was pretty terrible, now that he thought about it. Jacob had probably had the same one as a kid, back before he ran away to join the Humboldt crew. Daniel thought about how awkward their drive to Haven Point had been that night.

Jake had barely said a word, but he remembered hearing sirens approaching in the distance when he’d got back to the camp. Everyone was freaking out, packing their things away and dismantling their tents in a panic while Daniel stood there paralyzed in shock, unable to move. By the end of it, the site looked completely untouched, save for the large metal water tank and a bunch of overturned equipment. Hannah had run off somewhere in the woods, nowhere to be found. Ingrid and Anders already had a ride lined up to the airport in case everything went south, which they’d long suspected it would. Jacob grabbed things from their tent fast, only taking what he could of their most important belongings.

They’d driven to Haven Point in relative silence the whole way. Either because Daniel simply couldn’t talk, or because Jake was too scared to voice anything that was going through his mind. Still, he’d been a very compassionate friend. On their second night in some dive motel, he had set aside any personal reservations about things and cuddled Daniel close to him, much in the brotherly way that Sean always had. But there was a desperation to his touch that felt slightly different, almost as if Jake was cuddling a childhood version of himself. The man had fallen asleep that night in tears—oddly enough, with Daniel cuddling him. And the next morning, the young wolf woke up to find him praying for forgiveness at the end of the bed. Forgiveness for what, Daniel wasn’t completely sure. Perhaps it was for things that happened in Humboldt. Or perhaps, it was for things yet to come. But whatever the reason, Jacob had profusely apologized to him just before they’d parted ways on the hill, far above the burning church below.

“The Coyote Cult,” the boy muttered as he got in the shower. He certainly didn’t miss it. Especially having his Sundays taken up by intense study, or those weekly sessions with Lisbeth. And certainly not his “adoring fans”, who put such intense pressure on him. But among the things he did miss were the time he spent being a kid again. Things like his tenth birthday party at the town hall, in which he felt surrounded by friends. The museum trips she’d taken him on. Having a sense of belonging in a community where, at first, he’d felt safe. Those lingering feelings of betrayal would be the most difficult aspect to face, if they were to cross through Haven Point.

Daniel tilted his head up toward the water stream. Basking in the heat, he closed his eyes, running his fingers over his dark hair, then to his shoulders and across his body. He thought about Sean and where his brother must be spending the night. With the cash everyone had chipped in during their time at Away, they’d amassed about $2,000, which was certainly enough for Sean to be comfortable at a hotel somewhere until he got on his feet in Puerto Lobos. Or at least that’s what he assumed. Daniel hated to think about his brother begging on the streets. Sean was pretty bad at it. The young wolf grabbed the soap and ran it all over himself, soaping his armpits first. That’s when he noticed something strange—tiny hairs. Some had begun to sprout in his nether region as well.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Puberty?” He’d barely had any time to notice before, with all the running around they’d done for months. Guess I really am a Super Wolf now, he smiled. But in a way, that frightened him too. He just wanted to stay a kid and do normal kid things. Not have mood swings, or give into any stupid urges to kiss girls, have sex, or whatever it was that made Sean chase after Cassidy or kiss Finn. That was a weird thing his brother had admitted to him, too. He kissed Finn? Since when did he know he liked boys too? I wonder if I’ll ever end up liking boys...nah, don’t go there, Daniel. There’s enough things to worry about first. Just...get to Beaver Creek and most of it will be over.

Upon exiting the shower, he quickly dried off and got dressed in a fresh set of boxer briefs and the same pajama pants he’d worn the previous night. There was no reason to sit up against the door on the floor for another hour again, allowing his demons to catch up with him. After all, he’d slain an entire pack of wild coyotes in his dream. He hoped that at least that would be enough to keep the bad thoughts at bay for awhile. The boy ran a hand through his hair to brush it out of his eyes, and felt something painful near his hairline.

“Acne too?! You’ve got to be kidding,” he sighed, examining the red lump in the mirror. “This is gonna suck.” Frustrated, he used his telekinesis to open the door. A bit more force than he expected hit the frame, and it flew open hard, slamming into the adjacent wall. “No!” As expected, however, Parker immediately rushed over to check on him. Great.

“Hey, you all right?”

“I’m FINE!” Daniel spat, charging past him over to his bed.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like nothing.”

“I don’t think you’re going to want to sleep here tonight!” the young wolf said angrily. “Because I...I...fucking puberty!” he shouted, whipping the covers over himself.

“That’s what you’re so worked up about?” Parker chuckled.

“Shut up! It’s not funny! Because I don’t know how it’s going to affect my powers, okay?!”

“All right, all right, calm down,” the man said, taking a seat on the opposite bed.

“Don’t tell me to stay calm! It’s not like you’re the one who has to deal with it. And you’re not Mexican. You can survive just fine in America, so why are you even sticking around?”

“Okay hold up, where the heck is this coming from?”

“I heard you talking to Agent Flores today!” the boy admitted, poking his head out from under the covers. “She said you could all get in big trouble for protecting me, and that I’ll never really fit in. I just...I don’t want you to get hurt, especially if you don’t have to. That’s all. You can leave if you want. I’ll stick with Flores.”

“Daniel,” the man sighed, rubbing his face. “We all agreed that this was the best thing for you, because it’s something you wanted, and I think your brother would want it for you too. As for everything else...you have to understand that in America, there’s good people, bad people, and maybe even those who aren’t so obvious.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Let me put it this way. During all your time with Sean, what kind of people did you meet?”

“There were some really nice people, but...there were people who tried to hurt us for no reason, too. Like our neighbor Brett, that guy at the gas station. And Lisbeth’s friend who kept hitting Sean, over and over-”

“Okay, let’s just...I’ll try to keep it simple. You made it down to the border wall, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know why it exists?”

“To separate people. But I don’t get why they’d wanna do that...”

“You know what racism is...right? Please tell me you know.”

“Um...I remember we read about some of it in school. Sometimes, kids in gym class would throw stuff at me and say ICE was coming. Sean would call them racist assholes. But that’s all he said. That they hated us because we were different...or something.”

“That’s exactly it,” Parker said. “Some people are afraid of those who are different. Who come from different countries, who aren’t...white. Or entirely white.”

“So it’s not just because of my power? But...I don’t want people to be scared of me.”

“I don’t think you have that choice, kiddo. Powers or not. There are certain people in different parts of the country who get scared because kids like you challenge what they’re used to. They want everyone to be white. They want those walls, they want everyone to speak English so they’ll feel a little more comfortable, because they’ve always been told people from other countries will hurt or steal from them. They don’t know any different, and even if, say, a Mexican guy does speak English, they’ll only see what they want to. But the good ones? They’ll love you for who you are. They’ll listen to you. They won’t be afraid.”

“Oh,” Daniel said, his heart sinking. “I think I get it. Flores also said there’s targets on people’s backs. What did she mean by that?”

“It means...uh,” Parker sighed. “It means you always have to be careful. To do your best to fit in, wherever you are. Look kid, I’m not the right guy to be having this conversation with. Agent Flores could explain it much better. It’s just...I don’t feel it’s my place to tell you what to do. If that makes sense. You need to hear it from someone-”

“Who’s like me,” Daniel finished.

“Yeah.”

“I get it, I think.”

“You’ll figure shit out, Daniel. Just try not to worry too much.”

“Are you sure you want to stay with me tonight? Even if I freak out?”

“I don’t think I have that choice,” the man smiled.

“I’m just...scared,” Daniel said, turning away to face the window. “Of everything. Living with my grandma and grandpa, going back to school. Meeting new friends I’ll have to hide my powers from. My body changing, what it’s gonna mean for my power...everything.”

“It’s a lot, I know,” Parker nodded. “But you’re a strong, smart kid. Just remember what I told you, okay? Take things one day at a time. You’re never alone. And you’re going to be all right...Super Wolf.”

“Ugh, why’d I even tell you guys about that? Sounds corny when you say it,” he laughed.   

“You did great today,” the agent smiled.

“Thanks. I feel like it was better too. So umm...I got a weird thing to ask,” Daniel said, turning to face him. “Would you mind...telling me a story? Just so I can sleep better.”

“You’re not too old for that?”

“Maybe just a short one? I fall asleep fast.”

“A short one...okay, let’s see," Parker said thoughtfully. "Once upon a time, there was...an old, lonely white wolf who lost his pack. Many of his friends got captured by hunters, or lost their legs trying to escape traps. His brother went missing. Many years passed, and the wolf wandered from place to place in search of food and another pack to join. But even though he found a new pack, he never did find out what happened to his younger brother. He felt lost in the world without him. Every night, he would howl at the moon, sending out signals, hoping for him to answer his call. Then one day in his travels, he met a very kind Indian wolf, who promised to aid him in his search. She cared for him so very much. Eventually, they fell in love and had a pup of their own. The old wolf was happy. But he was also scared to raise a child of his own. He had never done it before, and as time went on, he feared he might have to give up the search for his brother...until he came across a lost, endangered wolf pup who missed his own brother just as much. The old wolf reasoned that if this pup was so determined to survive, then maybe...his brother was still out there, waiting for him too. And so he promised that once he got the pup to safety, he would continue the search for his own brother.”

“Agent Parker?” Daniel yawned, drifting off to sleep.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re gonna make a really great dad.”

“Thanks kid,” the man sniffled. “You sleep tight.”

*          *          *

The air tasted of dust and burnt ash. A pale red glow shone down from the skies above to encompass the scene as thick clouds choked off the sunlight, producing acid rain. Harsh winds whipped across a barren wasteland, revealing rusted out car frames, old playground equipment, the skeletons of long dead desert animals. An array of burning shrubs encased the yard in a natural fence, with two swinging swords blocking off the gate not far behind him. Daniel stood outside the entrance of the church at Haven Point, clad in the same bland outfit the Reverend Lisbeth Fischer used to make him wear. His hair, he could feel, was shorter. The cross high atop the steeple appeared to be burning, but the rest of the church was spared. He looked back down to see the same black timber wolf from his prior dream.

“Are you ready for what lies ahead, child?”

The boy nodded, and the doors ahead opened on their own as the wolf moved to join him inside the foyer. The familiar tables and the donation box that typically accompanied them were absent. In their place stood an array of glass candles covered in the images of saints, along with food offerings, personal possessions, various photographs, and crucifix necklaces. The floor was littered with marigold petals. Ofrendas. Daniel remembered his father one year having taught them about the importance of Día de Muertos. Upon closer examination of the photographs on the ofrendas, he noticed all of them were pictures of...Sean. The young boy immediately rose, extending a hand to concentrate on the set of double doors that led into the sanctuary. They flew open and slammed against the wall, which cracked under pressure.

A warm, orange light greeted him. The entire sanctuary was lined with candles on the floor and across the pews, leaving only the center aisle open. The path of marigolds led all the way up to the altar, where a lone hooded figure knelt prostrate in prayer. Daniel inched closer, listening to the young boy speak. He couldn’t make out all of the Spanish said, but he began to recognize it as a prayer his father would often start the day with. The Lord’s Prayer. 

“Padre Nuestro que estás en el Cielo, Santificado sea tu nombre, venga a nosotros tu Reino. Hágase tu voluntad así en la Tierra como en el Cielo. Danos hoy el pan de cada día. Perdona nuestras ofensas como nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden. No nos dejes caer en la tentación y líbranos del mal. Amén.”

As Daniel knelt respectfully alongside the figure and gazed over the identical ofrendas placed over the altar, he detected a scent he knew well from Sean’s hoodie. It smelled like a combination of sawdust, weed, rainy days, the cold of winter, and a few other things he recalled from their time on the road together. When the taste of fresh blood entered his mouth, Daniel knew who he was kneeling beside without even having to look. El Lobo.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Saying a prayer,” the wolf boy muttered, annoyed. “Obviously.”

“It’s not going to bring him back, you know.”

“No shit. This one’s for me.”

Daniel finally glanced over at the child, who had since done away with the black grease paint over his eyes in favor of sugar skull makeup.

“It’s not even Día de los Muertos yet.”

“For me...every day is Día de los Muertos,” the boy sighed, picking up a photograph of their father and Sean together. “We lost everything.”

“But we didn’t,” Daniel pointed out. “We still have grandma and grandpa, right?”

“Abuela y abuelo no entienden. Or don’t want to.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Exactly. Maybe you should learn Spanish, stupid.”

“Sean was going to teach me.”

“Sean was going to teach us a lot of things,” the boy frowned, replacing the photo. “But he’s gone now, isn’t he?”

Daniel put an arm around the young boy.

“I’m so sorry, El Lobo.”

“Whatever. My fault. ‘El Lobo’ is a stupid name anyway,” the boy sniffed. “Sounds like...ear lobes.” The two boys chuckled, their laughter echoing quietly in the sanctuary.

“Well I think it’s pretty badass. And you know Spanish. That’s really cool.”

“Just enough to get by, but. It’s not easy. I’ve spent a lot of nights on the street. No one wants to rent a hotel room to a kid, even with the money I swipe from tourists. Some nice strangers took me in for a while. They caught me stealing shit and kicked me out. Guess I don’t know what I’m doing. Just...angry. I don’t have any place to go, besides the churches. At least they let me sleep here when I’m tired.”

“Maybe...you need to forgive yourself, you know? If you really want to move on. You can’t change the past.”

“What the hell would you know?!” the wolf boy snapped. “I had to bury our brother myself! I waited, Daniel. For hours for him to wake up, for myself to wake up...until it was dark, and black, and cold. I took his hoodie and his bag, all the shit we had on us to survive. I had to use my powers just to move him out of the car because I wasn’t strong enough! Then I buried him out in the desert. Dug a hole, moved the dirt over him...how can I ever forgive myself that? I took his eye. Then I took his life!”

“You almost took mine too,” Daniel frowned, recalling their previous encounter.

“I’m sorry,” El Lobo said, grabbing hold of his hand. “I was just really freaked out to see you.”

“Same. How do you think this is even happening?”

“I don’t know,” the boy shrugged. “We made different choices. But Daniel...I’m really glad you jumped out of that car. You’re a lot braver than me. One of us should have a better life after everything.”

“Yeah, I guess. Man...this kinda sucks. I wish I could meet you for real.”

“Yeah. I wish I could meet you too. But I don’t think The Adventures of El Lobo and Super Wolf are happening anytime soon.”

“So are we like, twins?”

“Maybe dream twins? I don’t know.”

Daniel looked over at his new brother, still fascinated by his makeup.

“If we ever do meet, do you think you could teach me how to do my face like that? I really like it. It’s awesome.”

“Sure,” El Lobo smiled, embracing Daniel. A sudden gust of wind flew up from the back of the sanctuary, blowing out large swathes of candles and tearing photos from the ofrendas. “I think that means you have to go. Find me when you reach Beaver Creek? If you can.”

“Deal,” the boy nodded.  “And promise you won’t steal from anyone else, okay?”

“I don’t do promises. But I’ll try.”

“Good. Well...later.”

“Adiós, mi fantasma.”

*          *          *

Daniel awoke to a hot wind blowing throughout the car and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The seatbelt felt tight against his tiny frame, so he sat back. Must have slumped over. Drool spots had accumulated on his new jeans. The boy yawned and groggily brushed away whatever fresh drops that remained. He looked around him to be sure he was in the right car and checked his hair. It was still long. Agents Parker and Michaels were up in the front seat, too. Good, I’m awake. He gazed at the passing scenery outside. They were traveling along the top of a hill, coming up on a billboard. Daniel immediately recognized it. Steve Hoe’s Wild Mice Ranch. He looked on at the valley below. Haven Point. Just breathe, enano.

“Oh shit.” There wasn’t much left. The community building where he’d had his tenth birthday party was completely demolished. Not even a burnt out husk of it remained, though some of the wreckage was still visible across the vacant lot. A few construction vehicles and a crane were positioned around it from what he could see. The remains of the church still stood like a charred black ink stain across the golden desert plains. No doubt Lisbeth would be rebuilding it soon to resume her services—if she were even still around. Daniel was a bit curious as to what ever happened to her, but at the same time, he didn’t care. The more he dwelled upon that black scar, the more he wondered what El Lobo was up to, and the strange circumstances of their meeting.

Agent Parker looked back at him in the rearview mirror, removing his sunglasses to check on the boy.

“Oh geez, you’re finally awake. You okay kiddo?”

“Yeah...just thinking.”

“Sorry I opened the windows, the A/C’s been shutting off on me.”

“It’s cool. How long was I out?”

“You been sleeping like a rock since we got you that diner food.”

“Oh...yeah, I guess I have.” He could vaguely recall getting up that morning, heading to the car, and them bringing out breakfast for him at a local restaurant. He’d wanted the continental option that came with the rooms, but of course Flores reminded him of the importance of staying hidden. He couldn’t wait for some of Claire’s pancakes soon.

“So I did some checking up on Haven Point after you went to bed,” Agent Parker said. “There’s a brand new community setting up shop down there. See all the U-Hauls?”

“Oh wow!” Daniel exclaimed. A procession of orange and white moving trucks were heading up the road to the compound, followed by the semi trucks of three other different companies. “Who are they?”

“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints,” the man said. “In other words...Mormons.”

“What are Mormons?”

“Door knockers. ‘Knock-knock, would you like to hear about your personal Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,’ yada yada. Which really isn’t much better than the cult you left, but. At least around here, they have nobody’s doors to knock on but their own. Lisbeth was arrested for tax evasion, so I doubt you’ll ever see her face again.”

“What about uh, Nicholas?”

“Oh yeah,” Agent Michaels chimed in, “her little security guard. Cops caught him running drugs into Salt Lake City three weeks ago.”

“So they’re all gone...good. What about El-” Daniel stopped himself. “Nevermind.” Parker and Michaels exchanged confused looks, but shrugged it off.

As the group continued on past Haven Point, the young wolf thought about the last few times he’d been on this road. First with Jacob, blasting a playlist of 90’s grunge and The Ramones on their move to the compound, and then again in the opposite direction with Sean and Karen, in relative silence. No way he could ever repay them all for rescuing him. He missed his time with his mother most of all. I hope she’s okay. She would be doing time for arson, no doubt. Ever since his own capture, he realized there hadn’t been much point in her sacrificing herself for them after all. They’d gotten caught anyway. Still, Sean had his freedom now.

Daniel imagined him out there on his own, living like a king in a hotel for a few days. Then, maybe he’d gone out to check on their father’s old house. It was probably a wreck. At least Sean knew Spanish, so he could probably get someone to help out with it. After that, Daniel couldn’t envision it. He tried thinking of how they might even get back into contact. Claire and Stephen would be watching the news like hawks, and would probably hate Sean for abandoning his brother. Will he even be able to get a laptop or a new phone in Mexico? Then he remembered all those misfits in the Humboldt crew, and it gave him a bit of faith. The Diaz brothers had still managed to hook up with Sean and Cassidy all the way out in California after Beaver Creek. Maybe the world really was a small place.

He looked up at the clock on the dashboard. Four more hours until I’m home.

Daniel slept the rest of the way.    

Chapter Text

Heavy rains battered the car as the group neared Beaver Creek. Endless streaks of red and white light filtered in through the windows, distorted in the haze of the highway. Daniel had tried to keep napping since they’d crossed through Haven Point, but he found himself stirring in and out of sleep the entire way. He was still tired. He was still cold. He still felt a sense of prolonged bitterness at Sean. The way he’d been torn from anything resembling a normal life and forced out on the road made him angry. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving his brother behind—even if it had guaranteed his freedom in Mexico. Should I be mad at him, or more mad at myself? The downpour reminded him of all that time spent outside, huddling together for warmth. He could barely stand the rain anymore. The thought of being wrapped in a tarp again made him shiver down to the bone. Even worse, it made him lonely.

The car descended off the exit ramp and passed a green directional sign.

Beaver Creek > 7 Miles

Williamsden < 16 Miles

Springwater > 26 Miles

“Almost home,” the boy said, resting his head against the cold window. His heart was was beginning to pound. He wondered what Claire and Stephen must be thinking of him now. They still hadn’t called back, and he was a little afraid to walk through the door. Would they still be nice? Or angry at him? He certainly wasn’t in the mood to follow any more of his grandmother’s stupid rules, especially after all he and Sean had been through. But for better or worse, federal agents would be breathing down his neck for quite some time. Even if it was only bi-weekly visits, he hated the thought of anyone getting up in his business. God, I just want to lie down in a warm bed for the rest of the day. Maybe a few days. Maybe even for the rest of my life. That sounded awesome right about now.

As the car at last arrived in Beaver Creek, Daniel took a good look around at some familiar and not-so-familiar sights. They passed by the tiny Christmas market, which was closed for the season. There was also a beer and liquor mini mart, a dusty old video rental store, a comic book and records shop, and a bargain clothing outlet from which Claire and Stephen had bought them some new outfits last time. He tried to acquaint himself with it all. This is my life now. Better get used to it. From Pine Street, the car turned onto Evergreen, the main road on which the Reynolds lived. The young wolf closed his eyes and tried to stay calm.

“Still doing okay? We're almost there,” Agent Parker said, distracting him.

“I guess. But you said they didn’t call back, right? I left them a few messages. What if they don’t even want to see me?”

“You’re their grandson, of course they'll want to see you.”

Daniel stayed quiet and kept his gaze trained out the window. A stray tear fell down his cheek. He sniffled and wiped it away.

“Everything will be fine. And we’re here if you need backup.”

“Yeah...”

The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle as the group pulled into the driveway behind Agent Flores. Parker turned off the car and the interior lights came on. He glanced over at Agent Michaels, then back to Daniel, who froze when their gaze met. There was a strange, sad look on the old man’s face. Daniel knew what Parker probably wanted to say, but he was glad he didn’t say it. Or at least not yet. Goodbyes were always hard.

“You ready to go?”

Daniel sighed heavily. "No. How am I even supposed to start over? Just a few days ago, I was with Sean, and now...I just wish he was here," the boy whimpered. "It's not the same. Nothing is."

“I know. Getting back in the real world after what you went through is scary,” Parker said. “And it's completely normal to feel that way. But there's no going back, kiddo. I'm sorry. I wish there was more I could say or do to make you feel better. But you've just got to give yourself some time to adjust. Once you’ve settled in and gotten used to things, you’ll be a lot less worried. Trust me.”

“Okay,” Daniel breathed. "I trust you."

“Attaboy,” Parker smiled, patting his knee. “Now let's not keep your grandparents waiting.”

Daniel threw on his hoodie and did his best to compose himself, sliding out of the seat while the two agents grabbed his bags out of the trunk. Agent Flores joined them at the side of the car with an umbrella, a clipboard tucked firmly to her chest. The young wolf was almost certain it was full of paperwork for him to sign, his grandparents to sign, and for them all to sign together. He expected a lot of legal lingo he didn’t understand. The thought of that was a bit worse than the concerns he had about whether or not they’d be glad to see him, but like all things from the past several days, it was a band-aid he hoped would get ripped off rather quickly. Flores gave him a reassuring nod, and the trio made their way up to the front porch. The lights in the dining room were on, as were the ones in the front hallway. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat when Flores rang the bell. That, too, brought back memories.

“Just a moment,” he heard Claire’s voice call from inside. He crossed his fingers and hid off to the side. Please be glad to see me, please be glad to see me! A few seconds later, the door unlocked and swung open. The three agents stood their ground with Flores in front.

“Hello, Mrs. Reynolds? Special Agent Maria Flores, FBI,” the woman said, flashing her badge.

“Oh lord, is this about my grandsons?” Claire said, clutching her chest. Before either of them could speak another word, Daniel bravely stepped out in front of them, overcome with emotion but trying to hold it together.

“Hi Grandma..." he whimpered, finally losing it. "Can I live with you?" 

“Daniel!” she cried as he leapt into her arms. Claire showered him with kisses on the head. “Oh of course you can, sweetie! I prayed for you both every day, thank heaven you’re finally home! I'm so glad you're safe!” Claire hugged him tighter than he’d ever been hugged as tears of joy streamed down boy their faces. “They said you were coming back, but I didn’t want to believe it,” she smiled, caressing his cheek.

“Wait...what?!” the boy exclaimed, glaring at Parker. “You told me they didn’t call back!”

“Figured it’d be a nice surprise,” the man shrugged.

Daniel frowned and turned back to Claire. “Hey Grandma, where’s Stephen?”

“Oh goodness, Stephen!” the woman called. “Your favorite grandson is home!”

Daniel grinned when he heard the faint sound of a train set whistle coming from the front office.

“Coming!” the old man called. A few seconds later, the office swung open. Stephen plodded over as fast as he could, though seemed to struggle. Daniel noticed a wooden cane in his hand when he arrived at the door. “Oh my god, Daniel!” he laughed heartily.

The young boy leaned forward to hug him, taking care not to knock him over.

“Missed you, Grandpa!”

“I missed you too, Danny boy.” Stephen ruffled his hair and embraced him with one arm.

“Is...your leg okay?”

“Oh that, of course! It’s nothing,” he assured him. “No need to worry about me, I’m still getting around. We had to move the train set into my office, but it’s easier to work on downstairs.”

Once they’d all finished their heartfelt hellos, Daniel took a step back with the agents. Flores was beginning to look impatient.

“Well,” Claire uttered with a sigh, adjusting her glasses. “I suppose you all must be very tired after your long journey on the road. And being that Sean isn't with you...I assume there’s both good news and bad news to be shared. Would you three like to join us in the dining room? I’ll lay out some leftover pastries and get coffee started.”

“That would be wonderful, Mrs. Reynolds,” Flores nodded.

As the group entered the house and the door shut behind them, Daniel felt a shiver run down his spine. Even though his grandparents were both excited to see him, he was beginning to fear their opinion might quickly change once it was made clear to them what he and Sean had done, as well as the extent of any damage they’d caused. Claire certainly wouldn’t take kindly to the story of them having worked on a pot farm, burnt down a church, demolished a section of federal property, and taken the lives of not just one, but several police officers. They also wouldn’t be too happy to hear about their daughter being captured for arson, but then again, they probably already knew. From the chitchat coming from the kitchen between Agent Michaels and Claire, things didn’t sound too promising. But Parker seemed to be forcing the young man to keep a lid on it until they had their coffee.

Daniel took a seat alone at the dining room table and slumped over, toying with his black and purple slap bracelet. It felt almost like being back in that interrogation room at Del Carlo. He wondered how Sean had dealt with his own interrogation with Officer Campbell the first time they were captured together. I drove that door into him pretty hard, he remembered. I really hope he’s okay. I hope everyone else I hurt was okay. After a minute or two of agonizing thoughts, he heard a cane tap its way into the room behind him.

“Hey, Daniel,” Stephen said, sitting down to his right at the end of the table. “Are you...all right?”

“No,” the boy said, rolling his little chin on the wood surface as he repeatedly snapped the bracelet flat on the table and bent it so it rolled up again.

“Look, uh...I want you to know that you’re safe here with your grandmother and I, okay? I know that things with Sean were...difficult. But we’re not angry at you for anything that happened. Not while you were here, and not while you were out on the road.”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Daniel,” Stephen started, but cut himself off as Claire and the three agents entered the room. She proceeded to set out a small platter of pastries and doughnuts to be shared in the center of the table, along with small plates in front of every spot. The agents sat down, with Flores taking a seat at the opposite end from Stephen. Claire sat in front of Daniel alongside Michaels on the other side, while Parker joined the young boy on his left. They started off with a healthy dose of small talk as they mixed their coffee. Daniel poured himself a mug from the carafe and selected a cherry-filled pastry as he listened to them. Once Flores set her clipboard and folders on the table, an uncomfortable silence filled the room, until the young boy slurped his coffee noisily. Get it over with already.

“So,” the young agent breathed, thumbing through her papers. “Much of what we have to go over today are things I already spoke to Daniel about after his booking, but there are a few other things that need--”

“Excuse me, his booking?” Claire raised an eyebrow. “You had a ten year-old child in handcuffs?!”

“We did not want him arrested,” Agent Michaels clarified. “The border police did, but it was strictly procedural, and--”

“That’s enough,” Flores silenced him. “We had a brief interrogation because I had to make a report to the Bureau. That's all. You should know that what happened at the border was a very unique situation, Mrs. Reynolds. Being that I was already assigned to Sean’s case and was tasked with tracking Daniel down after he went missing, I was within my rights as a federal agent to take immediate jurisdiction. But I pulled a few strings to assign his case a higher level of priority in order to get him home quickly. Any burden of proof falls back on me, you understand. That is all I can say with regard to that.”

“We appreciate that very much,” Claire breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“As for everything else, I’m sure there is plenty you are unaware of regarding his time away,” the agent said, glancing over the evidence. Daniel nearly spit out his coffee until she finished. “But I'll spare you the details for the sake of Daniel’s adjustment. Living on the road has clearly taken its toll on him, as has being separated from his older brother. Our main concern going forward will be to monitor him periodically to ensure he is doing well. The FBI does employ trauma counselors, should they ever be needed. But bi-weekly visits to the home will be a requirement, until such time that the Bureau holds in good faith that he is not a...danger...to himself or anyone else.”

“A danger?!” Claire snapped. “Just what the devil are you--”

“Claire,” Stephen stopped her, grasping her shoulder. “You know exactly what she means, dear.”

“Oh, that...” the woman gasped. She reached across the table to hold Daniel’s hand, even as he’d buried his face into the table. “They know.”

“Yes,” Flores said plainly. “We do.”

“Well, if any of you are able to tell me...what exactly happened at the border? We saw no news reports on it. When Agent Parker called me, all he said was that Daniel was in your custody. We were relieved, of course. But what about Sean?”

“Your other grandson forced a roadblock and fled into Mexico, Mrs. Reynolds,” Agent Parker said. “Daniel jumped out of the car just before he plowed through the gate.”

“Oh god!” Claire gasped, covering her mouth. “Well...can’t any of you go down there and get him? Even if he is my grandson, he needs to face the music for what he’s done!”

Daniel bolted up from his chair and shot her an angry look.

“This is bullshit! Sean was only trying to protect me!” the boy snapped. Parker grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back down. Daniel was pissed, but let it happen.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Agent Flores replied. “Mexico does not extradite many wanted criminals unless they hold a particularly high priority. And with things being as they are right now politically, my concern is that it would get Sean killed before he ever saw the inside of a jail cell. Justice aside, none of us here want to put your grandsons' lives in further danger.”

“No, you’re right,” Claire sighed.

“As for Daniel, I’ve buried things to the best of my ability. His case file is sealed, with plenty of redactions. But I cannot stress enough how you all must be very cautious going forward with this arrangement. The rest of the FBI is not yet aware of his unique abilities, and I’d prefer we keep it that way. Should it be brought to the attention of other agencies in any way whatsoever, I will no longer be able to guarantee his safety, and I cannot say what they would do in such a scenario. You don't want that.”

“Definitely not,” Stephen said, taking Daniel’s hand. “He deserves to live a normal life again.”

“I agree,” Flores nodded. “That said, we do have some small requirements. Firstly, Daniel must attend a public school. Records of his performance must be submitted to us quarterly,” she said, scrawling down a few notes and addresses for them.

“That seems easy enough,” Claire said.

“Second, visits by federal agents will commence every other week for the first several months of his residence to determine his safety and adjustment back to normal life. Third, phone and internet use must be strictly monitored. This can be done at your discretion, as I don’t see the need to install wiretaps on your devices, however it is possible the Bureau will be paying close attention to your search history. That much is out of my control. The fourth point, I already explained to him. He will not be permitted to leave the continental United States for any reason whatsoever. Not even for school trips, vacations, visiting family," she said, eyeing Daniel intently for the latter. "Nothing.”

“That sucks,” Daniel said.

“For the fifth and most important requirement...he is not permitted to make use of his abilities. Inside the home, I don’t see an issue. But again--”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy rolled his eyes. “Or else they’ll send me to a government lab or something.”

“Right.”

“Man, this feels like I’m in prison! She said I couldn’t leave the house for awhile, either.”

“Actually, we will be paying a visit to the local police precinct on our way back to ensure any outstanding missing or wanted posters and the like are removed from their databases promptly,” Parker chimed in. "The sooner you can get back to your life here, the better.”

"So...are we all in agreement?" Agent Flores asked.

“Yes. Yes of course,” Claire assured her, then turned to her grandson. “We are so happy to have you back with us! We want you to feel right at home, sweetie. We’re family, after all. Anything you need, just let us know.”

“Thanks Grandma. That means a lot,” Daniel said, starting to feel more at ease.

As Flores continued for another hour or so with her legal jargon, Daniel excused himself from the table to wander around a bit and get better acquainted with his surroundings. The Reynolds’ residence had in many ways always felt like a second home to him long after they’d left, but it was still hard to process that all of this was happening without Sean. A feeling of loneliness followed him into every room and space he entered. He checked the guest room first. Sean’s scent was still hidden somewhere in there. It seemed like just yesterday they’d been waking up every morning together, having pillow fights, racing downstairs for breakfast, playing with Stephen’s model trains, or training his precision with toy blocks. He remembered, too, the feeling of first entering Karen’s room. Exploring through all her childhood memories, reading what poems remained, and especially that letter Claire had hidden from them. He even missed her tattered old bear Ulysses, but oddly enough it was nowhere to be found.

Daniel checked around the bathroom next, then looked out over the mezzanine, where he sat and dangled his tiny legs over the edge—well, not so tiny anymore. Sean had sat beside him one day in that very spot with a reassuring arm wrapped around him. He’d felt safe that day, and almost every day, so long as his brother was near. Christmas was in the air back then, and everything smelled of pine and gingerbread and hot chocolate and marshmallows, and...like a real home. But now, it almost felt like living in a haunted house. Sean was there, Karen was there, but as ghostly remnants of a past he’d been forced to leave behind. At least Chris will be around to make things a little better. Daniel was excited to see his friend again. Oh man, he’s going to freak out when I show up at his door tomorrow, the boy smiled.

“Hey Daniel, could you come here?” Claire called up the stairs. “The agents are leaving.”

“Be right there!” he answered. Just a few more moments of peace. Just a few more moments with Sean, the wolf cub sighed to himself, cherishing the memory. Before long, he got back up and bounded down the stairs. It was time to say goodbye to everyone and get settled in for the night. Strange as it was, he would miss his brief time with Flores, Michaels, and especially Parker. They were all waiting on the front doorstep for him. Claire and Stephen had already seen them off, so he closed the door behind him to speak privately to the trio.

“So,” Agent Parker said, “I guess this is it, kid. This old white wolf accomplished his mission.” Daniel jumped forward to give the man the biggest, strongest hug he could muster. “Hey, hey!” he chuckled.

“I’m really going to miss you,” the boy said sadly. “All of you. Even Agent Michaels.”

“Gee, thanks,” Michaels laughed.

“Oh, hijo,” Flores answered as she stooped down for Daniel to hug her. “I know you’re going to do great here. And we’ll continue to be sure you’re looked after, okay?”

“Thank you so much! For everything. I owe you guys my life. And Agent Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"Never stop looking for your brother, okay? I know I'd want Sean to keep looking for me. So I just hope you find him, wherever he is. He’s gotta be out there.”

“Thanks kiddo, that means a lot.”

“I’ll try to remember what you said too...about the bad nights and good nights.”

“Hopefully tonight will be a good one?” the man smiled.

“Yeah...I think it will.”

“Anyway, we’ve got to get going. And don’t you worry. I’m pretty sure we’ll all see each other again at some point.”

“I'd like that,” Daniel smiled. “Well...bye everyone! Have a safe trip back.”

He waited patiently by the front door until both cars backed away into dark of the night, the trio headed for other parts and cases unknown. In a way, the young cub almost didn’t want to go back inside. He feared the boredom, the loneliness, the smells, the objects and ancient relics of ghosts left behind that haunted him so. It felt familiar, yet altogether alien. Could time truly heal all ills? That remained to be seen. Still, Daniel felt that living with the Reynolds would offer him something he hadn’t known in a very long time—a stable home life. Comfort. Freedom to be a kid again. Clothes without holes in them. A warm place to return to every day, and an even warmer bed.

He turned back inside, took off his shoes, and went upstairs to the guest room. Ulysses was buried deep in the pillows, waiting for him. He cuddled the bear close to his chest and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

>

March 16, 2018 – Nogales, Mexico

Sean Diaz yawned and stretched out as much as the driver’s seat in the white 2002 Chevy Cruze would allow. He was tired, but the morning sunrise that bathed the city of Nogales in a golden red light was always worth it to watch. He checked the clock. 7:06 AM. Almost time for drop-off. The parking lot was still empty, aside from three beaten up cars that belonged to the owners of local shops. He’d gotten used to it by now, but the four-hour drive from Puerto Lobos up to the border city of Nogales for work always made him anxious. Plenty of feds would be watching, especially on this side of the fence.

“Shit,” he whispered. His stomach growled. No time for breakfast now. In just nine minutes sharp, he would pull the car around to the back of Francisco’s, a local restaurant, and deliver the sixty pounds of cocaine hidden in his trunk. This won’t be forever, he thought. As the radio faded between static and Fastball, he turned on the police scanner, doing his best to drown out the sound of Merill’s voice stuck in his head repeating that phrase. It won’t be forever. Stop, it Sean. Focus. Stations near the border, he’d been told, would often crumble in static whenever feds were in the area. Maybe they were just across the wall, but it was certainly close enough to make him sweat. He also wasn’t looking forward to Roberto, his partner in crime, coming out rambling things at him in Spanish. It still felt weird to be speaking it so often. Trying to fit in made him anxious, too. Was he even talking right?

“Come on, just breathe,” the boy said, almost adding enano under his breath. A stray tear ran down his hardened face. That was still a difficult habit to break. Funny how all that consoling for Daniel was now directed at himself. Why the hell am I even here? I can’t stand only doing shit for myself. “God...I miss you, Daniel. I hope you’re doing better than me.” He reached over to his old high school backpack in the passenger seat. His fingers briefly brushed over the gun he’d stolen from Nicholas back at Haven Point, with its serial numbers chiseled off. Not you. Alongside it was the item he was digging for. Daniel’s Power Bear toy.

“No one can defeat justice!” the thing said proudly, in the most garbled voice it could muster. Time for new batteries. He had replaced them three times over the months since he’d made it to Puerto Lobos, and they were worn out yet again. Sean chuckled at how much he must have been pushing that button lately to remind him of his brother. Hope you give me luck, he thought, kissing its head before placing it back in the bag. The police scanner beeped. A female American voice broke through.

“All agents, we’ve got a 10-31, subject in sight, 10-33, transport of narcotics and suspected illegal aliens on Route 189. Subject confirmed armed and dangerous. 10-4.”

“Copy, heading up northbound.”

“Shit!” Sean gasped. He checked the clock again. 7:21 AM. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” He slammed the gear in reverse, then drive, peeling out of the parking lot as the tires screeched. Roberto would not be happy he was late. Having to turn his head more often to see objects on his left certainly didn’t help when he needed to shave off a few extra seconds, either. As he sped down the alleyway and made a right turn onto the next street, the delicate tissue over his left eye socket began to itch. He tore off the patch. Too distracting. Another month or so of runs, and the cartel would pay good money for a decent prosthetic. But he had to prove himself with grunt work first. “Maybe we can even get you back to America someday,” they said. Yeah right. That was how they hooked you.

He made a sharp left into another alley, then another right to pull up behind the food truck at Francisco’s. From there, he would travel with Roberto on the truck, making a legitimate delivery of vegetables to a bodega 10 miles away—a far more comforting ride—before heading back to Puerto Lobos. I can’t wait to crack open a beer after today.

Sean scoped the back entrance and the alley, listening closely to the police scanner, just in case. The American voices sounded distant enough through the static now, but it seemed the Mexican Polícia Federal were amping up their watch around Nogales. It was hard to get used to the idea of cartels having as much power as they did here. Once he’d crossed the main street, gunmen and other gang members in the Sonora cartel would be watching to be sure the shipment arrived safely at its destination. He looked around. A young man far behind him was already phoning in that the delivery was late. Fuck. A few seconds later, a mid-thirties, chubby-framed man stormed out the back door of the restaurant. Roberto. He kept quiet until he reached the car. Sean opened the passenger side window.

“Por qué llegas tarde?!” the man spat.

“Lo siento, el tráfico...era malo, y me duele el ojo.”

“No hay excusas!”

“Yeah...I know,” Sean said, annoyed.

“And in this country, you speak Spanish!” Roberto reached through the window and slapped him. “So I don’t want to hear any Millennial backtalk, comprendé? If my son spoke to me as you do, I would do worse. So will the cartel, if you don’t get your shit together. Now vamonos, Sean! We’re on a deadline.”

“Right,” the boy said. He popped the trunk and exited the car. The cocaine in question was hidden inside several cardboard boxes, padded beneath an array of both fake and expiring vegetables. Not much to insulate the goods, but enough to fool any passersby. Roberto stood watch, checking both ends of the alley to be sure they were safe from the Polícia before lighting up a cigarette. Sean hated feeling like anyone was breathing down his neck, but for the most part, his partner was chill.

“Seriously? You’re going to make me carry in all these heavy boxes myself? Pretty sure I’m the one who deserves a smoke break.”

“You got some real cojones, kid,” Roberto glared at him. “But maybe I’ll bum you one on the ride to José’s.”

“Otro día, otro dólar,” Sean grinned. The man flicked his cigarette.

“Algo en el escáner?”

“Say what?”

“Aye, Dios mío,” the man rolled his eyes. “The radio.”

“Well, there was this old song by a band called Fastball that was pretty good.” He smirked at Roberto, who started giggling like a child.

“Smartass! You’re lucky I like working with you.”

“Was just some pigs, by the way. Other side of the wall.” Sean moved aside for Roberto, who stamped out his cigarette to grab some boxes.

“Makes you nervous, no?”

“Always. But you know me, I stay strapped.”

“I still don’t get it. All these people try to leave Mexico, but you’re the only Mexican I know crazy enough to break in!” he chuckled. “Just be careful out here, Sean. They still want your colito and they’ll find any excuse to cross the border these days. Still nada on the hermano, eh?”

“Still nada. Probably with mi abuelos living the good life,” Sean sighed, lugging the boxes over to the back entrance, where an employee opened the door. He immediately switched to Spanish and changed the subject to avoid suspicion as the worker directed them both to a walk-in refrigerator on the basement level. A gang leader was waiting below to take stock of their inventory as they went inside. Having to see all those packages up close still sent a shiver down the teen’s spine, but not as much as the armed henchmen behind them on either side of the door. Not that the temperature helped, either. No one would hear us screaming down here.

Sean looked nervously to Roberto as they knelt down to begin emptying the makeshift vegetable coverings to reveal Jenga blocks of pure white contraband. The gang leader made them both count aloud. Being viewed with this level of suspicion felt no better than his interrogation with Officer Campbell the previous year. At least they were getting paid. After what seemed like an eternity of the older man checking things off on his clipboard, he finally nodded at one of the guards.

“Muy bien,” he said. One of the henchmen came by and dropped a bag of cash on the floor aside them. Everything seemed in the clear until Sean made the mistake of reaching for it. The guard immediately smacked him in his bad eye with the butte of his pistol, sending the boy reeling backward onto the hard metal floor. Sharp, knife-like pains ripped through his skull as he cradled his face and tried to hold back from yelling. The gang leader was not so kind. “Llegaste tarde!” the man shouted.

He began pacing back and forth, screaming obscenities in Spanish that echoed off the walls of the tiny room. All the while, the stomp of his boots only hammered the pain deeper. God, just kill me right now. The guard kept his weapon trained on Sean. He didn’t dare budge. The other knelt over Roberto, plastering his chubby face to the freezing floor. Visions of Hank, of Merill, of Chad, of Nicholas, of the vigilantes at the border, and so many other horrid experiences he’d endured flashed through the young teen’s mind. Only this time, there was no escape. There was no wildcard or deus ex machina to save him. There were no prayers. And there was no Daniel. If only you were here to rescue me right now, enano.     

He did his best to focus on what the gang leader was saying. It was hard to make out everything over the pain, but it was something about losing valuable customers in the first few minutes, and how it was pointless to continue doing business in this sector of town because the runners were all dipshits they had to ice. After several minutes, the leader finished his inflammatory rant. He grabbed several stacks of bills from the bag to hand to the guards, took an extra two for himself, and...a hefty block of cocaine. Fuck.

Their pay had just been cut. And once the cartel got word of their missing package, they’d certainly be on the lookout for Sean and Roberto. Even if the two managed to get back to Puerto Lobos with their skins intact and blame the guilty party—not like they knew his name—it would be another few months before Sean could even think about getting his prosthetic.

Once the mayhem was done, the gang members forcibly dragged them out of the walk-in and up the stairs, shoving them out on the street. The door slammed shut behind them. Roberto rolled onto his back to take a long breather, while Sean stumbled upward from his knees. That’s when he noticed something else missing.

His car. And with it, the old backpack, the police scanner, the gun. And all of Daniel’s remaining possessions.

“FUUUUCCKKKK!”

Frantic, his eyes scoured the alley. For a weapon, another vehicle, a solution, for someone to hit, for...anything. Roberto’s truck. It was still there. And far up the street, he  heard screeching tires as a white Chevy Cruze sped around the left corner. There was no time to check on Roberto. Just move your ass and don’t think.

Sean ran for the truck, hopped inside, grabbed the keys from the visor, and peeled off in pursuit.

*          *          *

So...how does the story of the wolf brothers end?

The glare from the morning sun was blinding, and the visor did little to block it out. A long path of vegetables trailed behind the delivery truck for several blocks as traffic and horns raged in chaos around him. Glass broke at several points, shattering the deafening silence. Sean felt numb to it all, even as his body reacted on its own, turning the wheel and pounding the brakes with every turn. The rear of the vehicle skidded into lines of parked cars, slamming innumerable sides and fenders. Sirens were coming. He didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching that speck of white on the horizon. His eyes never moved from it.

“Come on, asshole,” he muttered under his breath. He shifted gears. One, two, three, then back to one. Clutch, shift, clutch, shift, brake. The car ahead slowed, slamming side first into an oncoming blue Ford Focus, then gunned sharp left onto a main road. Sean slowed the truck and made a wide turn, merging into traffic coming from the right just as the stoplight in front of him turned red. He slammed the gas and plowed forward. All the while, the sirens grew closer. Flashing lights emerged in the distance several cars behind him, then up ahead another block. The Polícia were catching up. Fuck, I’m so dead. Focus, Sean. Eye on the prize.

The imagery in front of him appeared flat, so it was hard to judge how close he was. Once the car skidded again and flew into a right alley halfway down the block, Sean knew exactly where it was headed. Parking garage, fifth level. That was where he and Gonzalo had struck a deal with the gang several months prior. Maybe it was stupid of him to continue following the car, but this was his only chance. After being handed off, the vehicle would be loaded onto an inconspicuous truck, concealed from police attention, and moved to a chop shop at a secure location. All of its contents would be sold.

Not today. Sean grit his teeth and drove on, turning right into the alley, then left onto the ramp. The gate bar had already been broken by the Cruze by the time he made it through. That’s when he heard a hard slam come from above him, and the truck ground to a screaming halt. What the fuck? He whipped out of the driver’s seat through the window to take a look. The second floor of the parking garage was too low to accommodate the top of the truck.

“Gotta love clearance limits!” he raged. But he couldn’t go out there unarmed. Cartel gang members were most certainly packing heat. He checked out the center console in case Roberto kept any of his own. Nada. But there were some stray bullets. He tried the glove box next. Still nothing. Shit, come on. Beneath the passenger seat, then his own. Finally, a silver .45 shifted into view. “Yes!”

Sean exited the truck and rushed for the stairwell, tucking the gun into away in his hoodie. He bounded up the steps as fast as he could. By the time he reached the second landing, cops were already entering the alleyway below. Should’ve taken the elevator. But at least the truck now blocking the entrance would buy him some time. The boy’s heart pounded in his ears with every step as he kept moving, still focused on that illusive white dot that held the distant remains of everything he’d ever loved in life.

He thought about the determination of his mother, the collected poise of his father, his time on the road and everything he’d ever learned from it. Most of all, he thought about every asshole who’d gotten in his way. He had beaten and overcome them all. If he could just make it to the final level of this garage and defeat the boss, things would be okay for awhile. After all, if Perion from Chronicles of the Basilisk had done it, so could he. He had to laugh at such a random memory. He and Lyla had worked on that stupid book report together for two solid weeks for a B+ grade. Almost at the top.

Much as he wanted the car itself back, he knew it wasn’t going to happen. The Polícia at this point would be watching that garage like hawks to see who came out. It was better to take what he needed and hotwire another, less conspicuous vehicle for the return to Puerto Lobos. But what about Roberto? Fuck. Why did I leave him alone back there? No matter. No time.

As Sean reached the roof level of the parking garage, he steadily took hold of the pistol and kicked open the door, checking the front and sides before moving through. A white truck with no labels was parked to the right in a row of cars with an on-ramp was at the ready. Soon enough, the white Chevy came peeling around the corner. His heart stopped in his chest, and he hesitated. Cops will be coming up the stairwell. So keep your ass hidden. The teen cautiously darted over to the row of cars, staying low. Things were about to get ugly, and there was no stopping that now. Even if Daniel had been there with his powers to clear things up.

Sean passed along between the concrete wall and the fronts of numerous parked vehicles, many with bugs or spider webs stuck on their grills. He would have taken a few license plates with him for the return trip in case he ever needed some, but plates were fairly easy to come by. He continued staying low as he crept, watching and waiting. He stopped and looked back after every third car he passed. Still no noise from the stairwell. Good. Once he’d made it just two cars away from the truck, he stopped in his tracks. Three men were gathered around outside it, two at the back and one at the front. The closest to him was on his phone. Not good.

“Shit!” the boy breathed, ducking back against a fender. He checked the pistol. Only two bullets left in the clip. Fuck. Those stray ones in Roberto’s console would have come in handy now. He’d just have to make those two count and be extra precise—which would be nearly impossible, given his Cyclops eye. Sean thought back to his recovery at Sacred Hope ages ago. Just like the pen test. Nice and easy. You can do this.

The Chevy had stopped perpendicular to the back of the truck as the two men argued with the driver to wait. From the Spanish exchanged on the call, it seemed the man was trying to be sure the local chop shop was ready to receive them. The owner was tied up with three other recently stolen vehicles, and he wasn’t thrilled on receiving something too “hot”—a car the cops were actively on the lookout for. Sean kept low and worked his way around to the back of the beige 2008 Nissan Sentra he was hiding behind. It was better to target one of the other three men while the fourth was distracted. He took a deep breath. Now or never.

He stood cautiously, steadying his arms over the top of the trunk, and aimed for the head of the man talking to the driver. He pulled the trigger as the man went to stand back. Pop. His ears rung at the noise. There was a quick splash of blood as the target fell to his knees, holding his neck. Sean then took aim at the next. The second shot shattered the man’s right kneecap. He went down and proceeded to crawl to safety around the side of the truck, but the driver sped forward over his leg, ensuring he’d never walk again. Sean ducked down as the car stopped dead in front of him, and backed up against the driver’s side door. Nicholas’s pistol stuck out of the window. Sean lunged upward. Grabbed the man’s wrist, twisted it back towards him. Pressed hard on his index finger, sending a bullet into the man’s head. A splatter of blood erupted out of the window, bathing him in a red shower. No time to think.

The young teen dove into the car and grabbed the police scanner off the dash, stuffing it his old backpack that held all of Daniel’s things. A small burner flip phone had fallen onto the passenger side seat. Sean grabbed it and ran to the opposite side of the parking deck, leaving the guns behind as the remaining gang member fired several shots in his direction. Fortunately at that moment, five cops exploded out of the rooftop exit to ambush the criminal.

Sean stayed low and found an appropriate car while they were heavily distracted amid gunfire. A red Volkswagen Jetta. The driver’s side window was even open a crack. Score. He reached in and unlocked it, then tossed the bag inside to get down to businesses tearing off the bottom cover of the ignition compartment. Hotwired it in fifteen seconds. The engine revved hard. He threw it in reverse, then drive, speeding to his left past the stairwell, and followed the exit signs to safety.

*          *          *

Excerpt from the blog A Tribe Called West:

March 6^th, 2018

To be, or not to be? To do, or not to do? Which choices will lead us to strength, and which will continue an unending cycle of brokenness and pain? There are many obstacles us humans are required to face in life. A lot of them are certainly physical. However, in my own experience traveling on the road, I’ve come to find that the vast majority of them tend to be those intensely personal inner struggles. Change is difficult to achieve, and the outer world often reflects the inner, and vice versa. It’s interesting to me how we have a border wall built down south that everyone likes to talk about. And yet, it’s often the unspoken borders between people that truly define us as a culture on a daily basis. Some of us can feel perfectly at home in a crowd. Others will feel caged by it. I suppose that in many ways, anything can feel like a border. Which outcomes will make you feel the most free, and which will ultimately cage you? Something to think about for today.

Until next time,

- Brody J. Holloway

Sean exited out of the tabs on his stolen laptop and looked nervously toward the closed door of his motel room, his face illuminated in pale blue. His bare skin still felt damp from the shower. Washing the thief’s blood off his face had done very little to make him feel any better, but Brody’s blog was always a welcome escape from the chaos that surrounded him. He thought for a moment about the last time he’d stayed in a room like this back near Haven Point. The conversation with his mother had been surprisingly good for them both. Should I try to contact Karen? Oh. Right. She was probably in prison. And even if he could, he knew the cartel would be hot on his trail after today. No way could he rope her into that mess. It would get them both killed. So what’s my next move?

After washing up in a gas station bathroom, he’d driven down to Santa Ana. There was still a three-hour journey ahead, though it wasn’t as bad as the trip he’d made to Nogales that morning. The Polícia Federal would be extracting prints from the guns and going on a hunt for the missing Jetta by now. He’d been smart enough to ditch it several blocks away. Still, that presented the problem of transportation in the morning. A taxi to the edge of town was likely the best bet. From there, he could steal another car, but it would be too easy for them to pick up his trail that way. Better to pay off the taxi driver with the stack of cash. He thumbed through the bills. $4,700 USD left. Not bad.  

He wasn’t entirely sure, either, why he’d bothered to grab the thief’s burner phone from his former vehicle. Maybe it was some sort of revenge, or maybe a way of getting in contact with the cartel to explain the situation. In any case, perhaps it held some clues as to who the gang leader was. Sean powered up the tiny device to start looking through it, then immediately realized how much of a bad idea that was. Anyone with enough sense could pick up the pings. Cops. Cartel members with tech savvy. Too late now. He scrolled through the contact list.

“D. Gonzales. J. Rodriguez. M. Morales. R. Nino. Pickup, drop-off. Damn, is there anything not generic?” he sighed, tossing it onto the table. He looked to the door again. The rain outside fell harder, battering the windows as a boom of thunder came. He thought about the warm blood splattering on his face again and removed the towel, plodding naked for the bathroom. Things were way too heavy right now. Just as he went to close the door, the cell phone rang. Sean’s heart fell to his stomach at the familiar old Nokia tone he’d heard numerous times in movies. Shit! He waited against the door frame. It rang again. And again. Should I maybe...answer?

“Fuck it.” He rushed over to the desk and flipped open the device, holding it to his ear. He dared not speak a word in case it was the cartel.

“Hola...Señor Diaz,” a heavily-accented voice spoke.

Sean’s heart thudded in his chest, but he remained silent. Relax dude. Maybe it’s not me they’re after? Diaz is a pretty common name around here...right?

"I know who you are, and what you did today.”

“Shit,” the boy turned away, clenching his teeth. Tears streamed from his one good eye as he broke into a cold sweat. His stomach churned. He felt his balls shrink. They were onto him. No escaping things now. “W-what do you want?” he managed.

“I would like to make a deal,” the ominous voice said. “Mañana. 8am sharp. Cantina de María. Do not be late this time. Oh, and keep the money. Consider it an advance on your contract.”

“Advance on what con...hola?” Whoever it was had hung up. Shit. What did I just get myself into? He held the phone in his hand a few moments, turning it over and over in time to the questions flooding his mind. What the hell is this contract he was talking about? Keep the money and call it an advance? On what? What would they be making him do? I’m too young to be a hitman. What if they turn me into a ‘debt collector’? I’m not going around killing people. No way. Then he remembered he’d already killed two men that morning and abandoned Roberto, all in the name of getting his brother’s stuff back. He thought about that, too. Fuck. Daniel’s not even here and I’m still acting like I have to protect him. What would he say if I killed those men in front of him? What would Roberto do? He’s probably pissed as hell with me. No way I’ll ever see him again.

“Ugh, fuck!” Sean raged, tearing the flip phone in half and chucking it in the waste bin. He rubbed his eyes, hoping this was all just a bad dream. Hoping he’d wake up and he could walk out to their kitchen in Seattle where his dad would be making breakfast, and Daniel would be acting like an annoying little shit. Or where he could walk out of their tent in Humboldt, and Daniel would be playing with the dog or Finn. Or even if he could wake up just one more time back in Away with his brother in his arms, savoring the bond they shared, while getting to know their mother better. That was the best. But no. Welcome to cold hard reality, Sean Diaz.  

It was a good idea to get rid of the computer, too. Plenty of unsavory cartel things were probably on it. Drugs? Human trafficking victims? Exploitative immigration deals? He didn’t want to know. He powered it off and ripped it from the cord in the wall, taking it over to the shower. He placed it flat and filled the tub a couple inches deep. Guess I could soak it for the night. Water damage wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least he wouldn’t have to leave his hotel room. He could always go to the back of the hotel lot and smash it the next morning.

On his way out, Sean looked at himself in the mirror. A few more months of puberty had chiseled his face and pecs a little more, combined with all the heavy lifting of crates of fish he’d done for delivery trucks back in Puerto Lobos. His arms had thickened a bit, too. The only thing that felt out of place was his hair. The Humboldt shag style certainly wasn’t doing him any favors anymore. Time for another buzzcut soon. Wonder what Lyla would think now if she could see me, he wondered. I definitely look older. Just...

“Tired,” he said. Dark circles were forming beneath his sockets. Maybe it was all that time spent on the streets, but he got the feeling it had something to do with being away from Daniel so long, too. “God, I miss you, enano.” It was the first time he’d said that word out loud in months. But he hoped that somewhere, somehow, his little brother could hear it.

And that he was smiling.

Chapter Text

Sean awoke promptly at 7:06 AM to the sound of the blaring motel alarm clock he had already snoozed a half dozen times. Once fully conscious, he lay there a few moments, gazing at the sliver of dancing sunlight on the ceiling as it broke through the curtains. Chasing that white speck yesterday reminded him a lot of himself. The more darkness enveloped his life in Mexico, the further it seemed he strayed from all the things that had grounded him in America. Something Stephen once said began to haunt him. Do you think your father would have wanted this for his kids? He had responded in a way most teens who had lost a parent would, of course. You don’t know him! Sean sat up in bed and reached over to the nightstand for his father’s lighter and the pack of Marlboro Reds.

“What would you do, papito?” he sighed, grabbing a cigarette and lighting up. He still had no clue where Cantina de María was located, and part of him didn’t care. But he knew that if he didn’t go, there would be consequences. There seemed to be two parts to his life now. One was Puerto Lobos, a dream that existed somewhere between the real world and his imagination. He hardly got any time to himself there. The other was comprised of all the criminal things he had to do to survive. Was this what growing up felt like? An eternal march to futility? If so, he hated it, as well as the way he’d been forced over the months into sacrificing parts of who he was. Life felt like wearing a mask anymore. Even if going on the run with Daniel had been a mistake, he missed the shameless honesty of it all. He checked the time again. 7:12 AM. Better get going.

Sean hopped out of bed and pulled on his patched jeans, along with a white xSquad shirt he’d found at a thrift shop some months back. His trademark hoodie was a bit warm for the spring months now that he was closer to the equator, but that thing went with him everywhere—even if it was full of holes, blood stains, oil stains, cum stains, and whatever other mysterious grime had amassed on it over the previous year. Something about his choice of clothes just made him feel at home while on the road. Once fully dressed, he headed for the bathroom.

The laptop was still in the tub. He drained the water and shook it off as best he could, wrapping it in a towel. Next, he grabbed the backpack of Daniel’s items and stuffed his remaining cash inside, along with a few bottles of shampoo and an extra washcloth. Maybe it was all that time spent out in the elements that had him still thinking like a survivalist, but you could never go wrong with some extra toiletries. He checked over the rest of the room to be sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. All clear, he nodded, exiting the room.

The morning air was humid after the night rain, and the sun was breaking over the horizon through wispy golden clouds. His clothing quickly stuck itself to his skin. Whenever he made it out of all this, another good shower was in order. For now, it was time to abandon the laptop. A large addition holding convenience machines was positioned alongside the end of the row of rooms at the back of the building. Behind it lay a sprawling vacant lot with piles of gravel surrounding it. Sean made his way across near one of the mounds and took out the laptop, breaking off the screen and removing the hard drive from its slot. Since there was nothing to smash it with, he resorted to digging a foot or so into one of the gravel piles, stuffing it in the rubble and covering it. He chucked the rest of the device aside and went on his way. Hope that’s good enough. Now to find this ‘Cantina de María’.

Sean made his way back to the motel office to return his room key and see if they had any decent maps of the area. Of course, being the classic roach motel, he wasn’t optimistic. If anything, a taxi driver might know best. There was an old pay phone in the office on which he’d seen someone calling a cab the previous night. He discreetly checked through his bills to see if he could ask for change. Damn. All hundreds. He took one out anyway and sighed, approaching the counter.

“Gracias,” he said, returning the key as the clerk nodded. “Um, necesito usar teléfono. Puedes dividir esto?”

“Parezco un banco?” the man laughed. “Aquí, us este.” He passed the office phone’s receiver beneath the glass enclosure for him to use. “Taxi?”

“Si, gracias.” The clerk dialed the number. As Sean spoke on the phone with the dispatcher, he kept a close eye on the clock. It was already 7:25. Shit, they better get me a ride fast. He’d have to pay a hundred for the fare, but with what cash remained, it was nothing. Still, he worried about whatever he might have to do to pay back the ‘advance’. As he waited on a small couch that was positioned aside an aquarium facing the front desk, he thought back to the previous day. What exactly did I do right?

From the delivery gone awry, it seemed as if the cartel should be hot on his trail, screaming for blood. All he had done was go after his stolen car to take back Daniel’s things. The money hardly mattered to him. In the end, he was responsible for the deaths of two men. Men who, most likely, started off in the same position he did. Running drugs, doing their best to support their families by whatever means necessary. No, stop it Sean. If it hadn’t been them, it would’ve been me, and that thief would definitely have blown my head off. He looked at the clock again, biting his lip. 7:29. If he didn’t get out of there soon, the clerk might get too curious. Five minutes passed, and finally the taxi arrived. Sean grabbed his bag and ducked out the door as fast as he could.

“Buenos dias,” the driver said as he slid into the back.

“Hola. Sabes dónde esta la Cantina de María?”

“Oh, si. Pero está al otro lado de la ciudad.”

“Ah...cuánto tiempo?”

“Veinte minutos.”

“Debería estar bien. Conduce rápido.”

“Si senor! Más rápido en el negocio aquí, jaja!”

Sean smiled as the driver sped away from the roach motel. As he kept an eye on the clock, he checked through his bag to be sure he still had all of Daniel’s things. The Power Bear toy was still there, along with a creepy old doll he’d drawn on, a disposable camera from Karen (that actually worked), a couple pine cones from their days at Willamette and Humboldt, and of course, Mushroom’s old bandana and Chris’s Captain Spirit cape. He felt so bad hanging onto those last two, but he was hesitant to send them back until he could be sure Daniel would actually get them. It was a good bet Claire and Stephen were probably pissed at him. As if it’s my fault, the boy thought. His brother had even told him not to turn back. But Sean knew that if he had, they’d be separated for far longer than if he stayed in Mexico. One day, Daniel might be able to visit...if he even wanted to. Yeah right. He’s probably having too much fun to think about me.

As the car traveled on, Sean did his best to estimate their arrival. The driver’s GPS said 7:50, which would at least give him time for a smoke break before heading inside. On the way, he continued thinking about what his little brother might be up to. Probably on spring break, living it up in that tree house with Captain Spirit, he smiled. He hoped the Reynolds were still nice, maybe even splurging on Daniel a bit. He deserves to know what it’s like to be a real American kid again. Soon after a brief gridlock of traffic, a few back alley roads, and the blur of various shops and restaurants scattered throughout the city, they arrived at Cantina de María with minutes to spare. Sean thanked the driver and handed him a hundred. The man balked and wanted to refuse, but the boy nodded and sent him on his way.

The bar was a sprawling, nondescript building with gold lettering on the windows that appeared dark inside. A brawny security guard that looked vaguely like Danny Trejo was standing out near the entrance clad in a leather jacket and black jeans, smoking a cigarette. When he saw Sean, he immediately dug out his phone and made a call, holding up a hand to tell him to wait. His Spanish was too quick for the boy to understand, but he was asking something about if they were ready for visitors.

Once the guy hung up, he nodded and accompanied Sean to the back of the building, where a small lot held a white limousine and a several black outfitted SUVs. The guard led him over to a thick metal door with a sliding view cover. He knocked three times, followed by two quick knocks, and the door opened inward. Sean’s heart began thudding in his chest again with every step. Relax, he thought. If they were planning to kill me, they’d have done it already. The faux Danny Trejo led him past several pool tables and broken slot machines, up a flight of red carpeted stairs to the left, then right into a large office on the second floor that overlooked the darkened bar below. The man remained just outside as Sean entered into a sudden stench of cigar smoke. A desk was positioned at the far end of the room, where a slightly overweight older man sat behind it in a leather riveted chair.

“Hola, Mr. Diaz,” he said, putting out his cigar.

“Hola,” Sean replied. He took a seat in the empty chair across from the man. A palpable nervousness was stewing deep in his gut. This wasn’t going to go well.

“I trust you know who I am?”

“Hmm...El Chapo?”

“Not quite. But we certainly can dream,” the boss smirked. “Gilberto Hernando Garcia,” he said, holding out his hand. Sean hesitated, but stepped forward to shake it. Don’t make any stupid moves.

“Sean Diaz. Pleasure to meet you.”

“On the contrary, the pleasure is all mine. I bet you’re wondering why I chose to have this meeting in English, no?”

“Sort of. But I’m guessing you know me.”

“Oh, I’ve learned quite a great deal about you, Sean. Can I get you anything by the way? A drink to calm your nerves. Whiskey on the rocks?”

“Whatever you got, I’m cool with.” He paid close attention as the man stood and dug out a bottle to pour their choice of poison. Stop, dude. He’s not gonna drug you.

“I’ve heard that you prefer English. I take it you’re having a hard time adjusting?”

“Not really. Just some words, I still have trouble with yet,” the boy said, taking the whiskey. Fire seeped down his throat and reached to the pit of his stomach on the first sip. Don’t let him catch you being a pussy. He shook his head a bit to get his bearings anyway.

“Not much of a drinker either?”

“Usually used to a beer or two.”

“Ah, all these things will come to you. So how about we cut to the chase. I know you’re wondering why the hell I called you here. After all, your performance yesterday was a bit...lackluster, as far as your delivery. But I was not keeping an eye on you because I wanted you to be a drug runner in the first place. You and I, we both know your skill set is suited to far better than that. And after seeing what you did on that rooftop,” the man extended his arms, “I’m sold.”

“Sold on what?!” Sean demanded. “I was late and I lost most of the cash, plus a few pounds worth of product you need ba-”

“No, you misunderstand,” the man chuckled. “Sean...all of what you’ve been doing for me these past several months was merely a test.”

His heart sunk. That whiskey wasn’t feeling too great now.

“A...test?” he choked.

“I was not interested in seeing how good you are at delivering drugs. Yes, you did a fairly decent job, although you were late much of the time. But yesterday, I wanted to try something different. I had to see what you were like under pressure, and I must say, you performed your job with exquisite precision. You see,” Gilberto said, resuming his cigar, “I read of your journey back in the States. I watched it on the news. All of it, and rather obsessively. Here was a young Mexican-American boy who could blend in anywhere, even as he fled from the law, and what impressed me most was this devotion to your brother. You admitted to nothing. You protected what mattered to you most, and you were willing to die for it.”

“But...all that cash, all the drugs...are you saying this was all fake?”

“The drugs, yes. Do you really think we would start you off with that much responsibility? The cash, no, that is real. But,” the man waved his hand, “it is of no consequence. I instructed my gang members to behave as they did. And you, wow,” he whistled. “You really brought down the house, eh?”

“I killed those men!” Sean shouted, banging his fist on the desk.

“Yes. But that is the cost of doing business here. Look, Sean...I want you to have a good life in Mexico after all you’ve been through. I believe you deserve it more than most. Certainly more than any average Rodrigo, Jesus, or Roberto. These men, to me, they are expendable. But not you. You are an investment, which is why I allowed you to keep the cash. And I know what I said about it being an advance and whatnot, but really. Take it back to Puerto Lobos, get yourself a head start on repairing your father’s auto business. Get back on your feet, eh?”

Sean hesitated. He bowed his head, rubbed his face with his hands. Looked anxiously around the room, with its dusty decor of mahogany, old books, playing cards, a dartboard. Then back, at his only exit. There was only one way out of this room, and that seemed to be making a deal with a devil he barely knew. That was the worst part. His chest was hurting. He felt like dry heaving at the thought of what he’d done on the garage rooftop to those men, as well as leaving Roberto behind to chase what—some inconsequential items that belonged to his brother? It all made him sick to his stomach.

“I killed those men...” he repeated, gasping for air.

“Breathe, Sean,” the man insisted. “You’re welcome to think it over.”

But he couldn’t breathe. How could he? How can this fucker be so heartless? Sean was hunching over now, elbows at his knees, hands grasping his shaggy hair. The walls felt like they were closing in, the sound of his heartbeat the only thing keeping him sane.

“I know from your position, it is difficult,” Gilberto continued. “And there is so much more I wish I could tell you that I simply cannot at this juncture. But if you work for me, I promise you, you will see your brother again. You can build the life the two of you both deserve together. And as full Mexican citizens. The law will never touch you again.”

“Fine,” Sean said, powering through the nausea and weakness as he considered the outcome. I could see Daniel again. That was all he cared about. All he’d bled and suffered for over the past year. He tried to think about what else he might have left, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a single thing mattered more, and whatever he did have felt meaningless without his brother. He felt empty otherwise, like a ghost walking through the world unnoticed, untouched, and unloved. For now anyway, this was beginning to look like his best and only option. “Fuck it...what do you need me to do?”

Gilberto smiled.

*          *          *

Club Saturno
Santa Ana, MX - 11:22pm

Club Saturno was one of the few upscale properties that existed in Santa Ana, offering a lively weekend atmosphere for tourists, musicians, promoters, college kids passing through, and most importantly, a haven for Gilberto Garcia’s human trafficking business. Dance music blared from the DJ booth across from the balcony above as Sean kept watch, dressed in a black suit with green pointed accents on the collar. The crowd roared with drinks raised high to a set list of tracks by Jack Ü, Skrillex, Marshmello, KSHMR, and various other electronic artists. The young teen beheld the scene, somewhat mesmerized, swirling his drink. He almost felt right at home. If I was ever a college kid, this is the kind of party I’d want to be at. Too bad this was all about business. He needed as many free martinis as he could get for what he was about to do.

“You can blend in anywhere,” Gilberto had said. The assignment, Sean had been told, was simple: Chat up a few drunk college girls, be friendly, gain their trust, offer them a modeling gig, spike their drinks if possible. Then lead them out the back exit behind the stage, where a couple unmarked vans were waiting to take them to god-knows-where. His left eye socket was starting to itch again, followed by a slight throbbing pain. Probably from the drink. Or his nerves. Or both. This is why I stick to beer, he thought.

“Estas casi listo?” his new partner Jorgé asked.

“Todavía no,” Sean answered. No way in hell he would ever be ready for this. Aside from the fact Daniel probably hated his guts, he began to wonder if it was all even worth it to see his brother again. Memories of Cassidy’s voice echoed from somewhere deep in his mind as he hunched over the balustrade, uncertain. We’ve already met twice, why not more? Even if we don’t, we’ll be fucking cool memories in each other’s minds.

“Hora de irse,” the man insisted. “No más bebidas.” He didn’t like how pushy this new guy was. Even if the job didn’t entail kidnapping fresh young girls for the proverbial slaughter, he hated the idea of going out there and acting a damn fool on the dance floor in front of them. Sean wondered how long this job would go on. He hadn’t even spoken to the first victim yet, and it was already ripping what remained of his heart to shreds. Not enough drinks in the world for this. Okay, Sean. Just...look for someone cute. Play it cool.

“Estás bien?” Jorgé tore him from his thoughts.

“Si,” the boy nodded, adjusting his eye patch.

“You look fine.”

“I don’t feel fine,” he answered loudly over the music and crowds.

“Takes some getting used to, I know. Look man, you’re a good-looking guy, yes? Just turn on the charm and be yourself. The rest comes naturally. Plus these girls are too drunk to care. Makes them easy.”

Sean tried to ignore the feeling of his stomach turning at that last sentence and gulped down the rest of his drink. It wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t strong enough. Throughout the better part of the night, he had tried dwelling on what exactly had possessed him to murder those gang members in cold blood, but came up with nothing. Flashbacks from all the terrible things he’d taught his brother about survival were coming in clear as the crystal glass he’d since set aside on a nearby table. Try to remember what I taught you. Only the good shit. He prayed at least Daniel had taken that message to heart. Along with that bit about not feeding the beast. God, I’m such a hypocrite. The late-twenties Mexican next to him gave him a pat on the back of encouragement and led him over to the stairs.

“We do this together, yes?”

“Sure...whatever,” Sean muttered.

“Hey, look at me. I know this is weird at first, okay?”

“That’s got to be the worst understatement I’ve ever heard,” Sean sighed. His stomach was rippling, as if Daniel were still skipping stones across the lake in Humboldt.

“Gilberto, he knows things.”

“I’m sure he does.”

The young man stopped him as they reached the top of the stairwell, overlooking the throngs of people coming up from the party down on the first floor. Sean steadied himself on the balustrade. 

“You don’t get it. When I first started out, it was hard for me, too. My family, we fell on hard times. The economy in Mexico isn’t the best. And the cartel, they help people like you and me. As long as we help them.”

“Yeah,” Sean rolled his eyes. “That’s where they get you.”

“Escucha...look, there’s something else you should know that I don’t think you’re ready for,” the man said, looking behind him nervously. “And I will tell you this. But first, we must do business. Comprendé?”

“Sure,” the teen sighed, feeling a sudden warm rush flood over him. Alcohol, do your thing. “Hey...you know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“I’m not even old enough to be here!” he chuckled. “And it kind of is my first legit party.”

“Oh, órale! In that case, allow me the honor of finding you your first girl!”

“O-Okay,” Sean stammered, waking himself up with a deep breath and a few slaps on his face. He adjusted his tie. Business casual. “Whew. Let’s get this over with.”

“Jaja, la noche es joven!”

As the pair made their way out onto the dance floor with ‘Calabria 2007’ blasting out of the sound system over a roaring crowd, Sean did his best to recall the finer details of what Gilberto was looking for. Tourist-type between 18 and 23. Blondes are a plus. American girls are your best bet, as Europeans are more woke to these things. Make sure she’s alone, or get her alone. Women in established groups or pairs are difficult, but there’s always that one friend who is left behind watching drinks at the bar as the others use the restroom. Take advantage of the situation and target her. I’m sure you are good at misdirection. Talk her up in English. Jorgé will take care of the rest. At the end of the night, no one will suspect a cute boy with a missing eye was behind it all.

Sean maneuvered his way through the tightly packed throng, following his partner’s lead over to the blue neon-lit bar at the back of the room. He felt up his inner jacket pocket to be sure the modeling photos were still there before proceeding over to a vacant spot on the far right end of the slab. So far, it seemed there were no openings across the various groups of people in which to insert themselves. For that, the young teen breathed a sigh of relief. Safe for now. But that didn’t stop Jorgé from doing a quick analysis of the room. Reading it, he had been told, was an acquired skill of both art and discretion.

“Okay, so we’ve got three college girls over at the other end. Looks like they’re with male company, so they’re off limits. You got a businessman here, a few frat party boys next to him...middle-aged cunt drowning her sorrows...party girls, let’s see...ah, fuck. Mother with them, she looks protective. You gotta watch out for those types, they’ll look after the girls who are alone, even if they’re not their daughters. Eyes like a hawk, trust me. I don’t know, man. We got our work cut out for us tonight.”

“What about...that one?” Sean asked, pointing out a girl at the middle section. “Her friends just left to go talk to the party boys. And she’s blonde.”

“Hmm, not bad. Still too risky. Probably giving her number to them. She got them pouty-ass dick-sucking lips though, whoo!”

Sean had to laugh. Talking like this, he felt like a high school sophomore again. He regrettably remembered being one of those douchey guys in the past. The kind that Lyla hated, and would always make fun of. ‘Ooh, look at her with her big ass and titties! Boing! You boys are adorable, always getting excited over the dumbest shit with your bros. Aren’t you smarter than that? Don’t know about you, but I like someone who’s not gonna back out of a good challenge without the squad of homies backing him up.’ God, Lyla. I miss your insightful quips.

“Looks like the mama bear is headed back for the dance floor,” he observed.

“You’re right,” Jorgé nodded. “But the frat boys are headed her way, which definitely means no shot for us. Damn, this is hard.”

“So...how often do you do this?”

“I’d say once or twice a month, with a few practice rounds in between.”

“Practice rounds?”

“Yeah, just people watching. Gotta keep my observational skills tight.”

“Doesn’t it ever...bother you, what we’re doing?”

“It used to. But then I found out something that none of us lower level associates are supposed to know.”

“And what’s that?”

“I told you, man. Gilberto knows certain things. Like I said, I’ll explain it after we take care of business here.”

Sean felt a slight twinge of nervousness breaking through the alcohol Zen.

“I get it. We’ve got eyes on us.”

“Cameras. But yeah. And don’t even think of taking a bathroom break. They see the two of us leaving together, we’re toast. Those security guards here are well paid. Sure, they might look the other way to help us out, but they can pack a beating.”

“Fucking Big Joes.”

“What?”

“Just...some asshole I knew in a former life.”

“You still haven’t told me nothing about you. We didn’t get much news down here in Mexíco. Just some guy who tried to cross the border with his lil' hermano, but I guess you took down loads of pigs with you, eh?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Sean said firmly. He held up his hand to call over the bartender, but Jorgé stopped him.

“The hell you think you’re doing?! We’ve got to keep a low profile down here!”

“Exactly. Drinks will help us fit in, otherwise we look suspicious. Trust me, I know how to play this game.”

“Aye,” the man sighed. “You get wasted, I’m not looking after you. Don’t fuck this up like you did with your deliveries, man.”

“Dude, I got this,” Sean assured him. “And hey, look,” he smiled as the bartender set him out a martini. “Space just opened up for me. Frat bros are gone.”

“Buena suerte!”

Jorgé sent him off with a pat on the back and his martini in hand. As he maneuvered around the corner and over to the waiting girl checking her phone, his heart began to pound. Remember to chill, dude. Just be yourself. But then she flipped her hair back. Shades of blue and purple reflected over it in the overhead lights from the bar. Sean stopped dead in his tracks. Everything that had led him up to this moment all started with a similar situation. What had been her name again? Oh yeah. Jen something. Hey Jen, nice to see you. Maybe you’d wanna...go out sometime? Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. The light passed over him, blinding his good eye, even as the opening drone of Mind by Jack Ü took hold of the dance floor beyond. Sean continued on, the lyrics hammering through his brain. You love how you push me to the point of crazy, and I love when you’re on your knees and begging for me, you got me good with all these mind games...

After what seemed an eternity, he reached the seat at the bar nearest her and set down the glass, making sure to stay turned in Jorgé’s direction until he could figure out what to say. The butterflies were rising now, caught up in his throat. When the drop of the song was about to hit, he took another quick sip for luck and sat down. Screw it.

“Hey Jen!” he blurted out as he faced her. Shit dude, really?

“Excuse me?” He looked her over a moment. Her hair was perfectly curled in a short bob with bangs, accentuating a pair of beautiful sea-blue eyes. A bold shade of lipstick covered her pouty lips, probably something named ‘Ravishing Red’ or some other such corny thing. She wore a figure-hugging white cocktail dress with frilled accents at the shoulder and down the V-shaped chest opening, breasts pushed up for the maximum reveal of cleavage, yet somehow still tasty...tasteful. Back in the real world, Sean knew that neither he nor his band of misfit friends that rode the gap between skaters and preps would ever have stood a chance with someone like her. She seemed every kind of rich, extra, and barely approachable. Then again, this was the adult world. Not high school. Get a grip, Sean.

“Oh, s-sorry. I just saw you across the bar, you looked like a friend of mine. My bad.”

“It’s fine,” the girl said, setting down her phone. The case was a glittery green. “Kinda bored, anyway. My little entourage left me for the dance floor. Feel like I’m the one they probably talk shit about, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it. That sucks.”

“Yeah. So if you don’t mind me asking, what’s up with the uh, eye patch? You going to a costume party, or?”

“Hell yeah, I’m the Governor from Walking Dead!”

“Oh...well that’s cool, I guess.” She sounded unimpressed.

“Nah, just fuckin’ with you. Actually, I legit lost my eye awhile back.”

“Oh! Oh shit, I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive of-”

“Chill, it’s cool, I’m used to people asking,” Sean chuckled. “Usually say I’m a pirate, but that one sounds lame.”

“I guess I’m just not used to seeing a younger guy with one. Do you mind if I, uh...”

“Take a look,” the boy grinned, lifting the patch and leaning under the light for her to check out the scar tissue.

“Aw, sick, that is gnarly!” she exclaimed. She put her fingertips on his cheek. They felt warm. “It's actually pretty badass!”

“Thanks,” he said, replacing the patch.

“So how did you get that?”

“Oh, uh...” Back in Cali, I worked on a pot farm. We tried to steal money from the owner but got caught, and my little brother trashed the place with his X-Men powers. “Retinoblastoma,” he answered. It was the easiest explanation he’d mastered. But he knew he’d hesitated the answer. Time to save face. Ha. “Sorry. Little drunk, it’s hard to think.”

“Heard that,” the girl giggled. “Bartender! Can I get another Sea Breeze please? And something for my friend here, what are you having?”

“Oh no no,” Sean smiled, ruffling through his bills. “Keep your money. This one’s on me. I insist.”

“Oh...kay,” the girl said, watching the female bartender pour her drink. “Mind if I ask you something else? But first, we need to do names.”

“I’m Sean,” he said, shaking her hand.

“Mindi. So, Sean...what exactly brings you here?”

“Club promotion, mainly,” the boy answered, sipping his drink. “My boss wants to expand. I do some modeling photography here and there, too.”

“Oh, interesting. I noticed you talk like an American. You travel a lot?”

“I guess you could say that.” His smile came off as more sheepish than he intended. Shit, is this chick onto me or what?

“I used to travel for modeling back in the day. Still get quite a few offers, but. Some of those creeps can be downright exploitative, ya know? Plus the whole anorexia thing...not really my scene anymore.”

Sean was starting to sweat now. With all the fun of their conversation, he’d almost forgotten what he was here to do. All that ‘stick with the mission’ bullshit Jorgé had plied him with seemed useless. He started to think about what might happen with this innocent girl once Gilberto got his hands on her. Would she be drugged? Sold into sex slavery? He was paranoid, too, about possibly being recognized by her on the national news back in the States. How many months had that gone on?

“Yeah,” he sighed, again trying a save. “I get it.”

“Sorry, I'm coming off like a total bitch. I don't mean to say you're like that, it's just I've gotten too many offers from shady guys. You seem nice though. Doesn’t hurt that you’re handsome, either! What kind of shots do you do?”

“Head ones, mostly,” the boy smirked, digging out the proper photographs. “And I’m definitely not handsome,” he laughed. “Well...I guess not anymore.”

"Are you kidding? You have an adorable face. Plus I know tons of girls who would go for the whole scarred, one-eyed badass look," she smiled. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-one," he lied.

"No shit, me too! You go to university?"

"Nah. This is more of a hobby."

He laid down a set of four portraits. One was of a smiling child, the others were a male and female teen, and an older male. All Mexican cinema or soap stars. Gilberto claimed it was unlikely she’d recognize any, and the variety of gender tended to make people more comfortable.

“Oh wow, those are gorgeous! But you got anything more, um...artistic?”

“I came prepared,” he said, taking out the last two black and whites. The first was of a teen girl posing rebelliously on a stoop with her knees together and feet spread wide, clad in leather boots, bare legs, and some drape of a large white shirt as she smoked a cigarette. The other was an overhead shot of a shirtless young boy on a beach with long, charcoal hair obscuring most of his smiling face. The focus was mainly on his bare torso with a baby turtle crawling across it, and a bent leg with a red bandana tied at the knee. His jeans were heavily patched and rolled up. Daniel. Almost forgot I had this. Sean had taken the shot himself with Jacob’s camera--the only genuine photograph of their journey. That was the day we finally met up with the Humboldt crew being a bunch of beach bums. God, I miss him. He felt like complete and utter trash for using his brother’s photo for this, but it seemed good motivation for why. One day, enano. I’m going to see you again no matter what.

“I’m in love with this one,” the girl said, examining the punk figure. “Look at those eyes, you can definitely tell she’s just been through some shit.”

“Yeah,” Sean cleared his throat. Just like me. “That was a tough shot too with all the traffic behind me, and maybe the tension. She’d just had a fight with her mom in the shop and came out for a cigarette. Looking out on a different world.” I remember that feeling in Haven Point at the hotel with Karen. He was getting good at turning on the bullshit when he needed to. Almost too good, because Mindi seemed to be eating up every word of it.

“It’s powerful,” she nodded.

“So anyway, that's all I brought,” he shrugged, quickly gathering up the equally bullshit photos.

“You definitely have an amazing eye. And I don’t mean because you’re-”

“A Cyclops?” Sean laughed. Mindi laughed, too. He could almost fall in love with it. Almost. “Hey, when you’ve got one eye, everything looks like a joke.”

“Must be easy to cut people off of those embarrassing family photos! Maybe I’ll book you for my friend’s wedding. I can’t wait to see the groom go accidentally missing.”

Sean choked on his drink. Yeah. Missing. Just as he was about to finish his conversation with the young girl, Jorgé moved between them to interrupt.

“Yo, have you forgotten we’re on a deadline, my friend? We should get back up to the balcony and collect the others, yeah?”

“Oh...right,” Sean said, confused. There was no one else with them. “I kinda have to piss anyways. Meet you up there?”

Jorgé looked grim.

“Meet us outside if we're not there when you get back,” he urged, flashing a quick smile at Mindi. “The rest of the guys are heading over to Cantina de María for a private after-party in ten minutes.”

“Oh shit, I forgot!”

“Hey guys, it’s all good if you got your bro stuff,” Mindi smiled. “I should probably go see what my friends are up to anyway. But here’s my number,” she said, scrawling on a napkin for Sean. “Text me and let me know what your rates are. My dad owns a condo in Mexico City and has business there, so I’ll be around until the end of summer.”

“Cool,” Sean smiled, still feeling deeply uneasy as to why Jorgé was rushing him out. He still had the pills in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch. It was awesome chatting with you!”

“You too!” she said, giving him a hug. “Meet you in Mexico City?”

“It’s a deal! I’m sure work will take me down there soon. Well..duty calls. Later.”

“Bye!” the girl waved.

As Jorgé took out his phone and rushed off somewhere, Sean went to the bathroom and locked the door behind him once he was certain no one else was inside. The din of the crowd coupled with roaring music faded. He splashed cold water on his face a few times, looking into the mirror. What the fuck is going on? He checked the time on a nearby wall clock. 12:01 AM. Was it something about the time? No. They had at least another hour ahead of them in which to work. Had he pulled a wrong move at some point, or taken too long? He thought back over the proper protocols. Nothing seemed off about his approach, the target, or the amount of time he took. So what was it? Were they in some sort of trouble with the Polícia Federal? Okay, just chill out. Don’t waste time, dude. Just do what Jorgé said.

Sean went over to the urinal, took a quick piss, washed his hands, and exited the bathroom. He looked over at the bar, paranoid. It was hard to see from this distance, but it appeared that the bartender had already cleared Mindi’s drink off the counter. Why would she be doing that? The young teen sprinted over to the stairwell and bounded up the steps as fast as his buzzed body would allow, nearly tripping along the way. He checked all the tables and along the balustrade. Then up and over the offices at the far end. No sign of Jorgé. Shit, what’s happening?

He ran back downstairs and scanned the dance floor in a panic. It was impossible to make out anything in the dark, so he took a deep breath and pried his way in. Endless bodies jumped and danced around him in a raging sea of faces, but none seemed to be any of Mindi’s friends. That’s when Sean looked back toward the bar. They were all gathered around with puzzled looks and seemed to have no idea where she went. His good eye darted toward the far left exit, where the door was closing behind a burly security guard. Sean’s stomach turned. You son of a bitch, you didn’t. The frantic boy took a deep breath, prying his way through the endless dark wave until he at last reached the door. He tore past the guard and out the long back exit to the alley, where a black van was waiting. Another security guard was walking away from the back of the vehicle. The passenger side door opened, and Jorgé flew out.

“What the fuck, Sean?!” he shouted.

“I don’t get it, what the hell are you doing?”

“You were taking too long! Man, I KNEW you would be way too friendly with that chica to bother with the pills! So I had to do your work for you.”

“I didn’t see you give her anything.”

“Had to get her to the dance floor for that," the man said, holding up an empty syringe. "You’re welcome!”

“That’s fucked! You said we had an hour!”

“Yeah. To find targets! Then you spike the drink before you even start talking, otherwise you’re just wasting time! So it should take no more than fifteen minutes max to get them out the door, roofied or not, or you’re dead. Oh by the way, I didn't have much time to get my measurements correct. So guess what, you get to babysit in the back and hope this bitch is still alive by the time we reach the safehouse! Now get your ass inside. Boss isn’t going to be happy with you.” Jorgé returned, slamming the passenger door shut.

Sean looked around on the darkened street to be sure no one was watching before opening the back of the van.

His stomach dropped at the sight.

Mindi was sprawled out on the floor, fading in and out of consciousness, her hair and dress disheveled. White foam was beginning to collect on the outer ring of her lips. Sean's heartbeat raged like a firestorm in his ears. No way. This can’t be happening. But it was already done. There was nowhere else to go, and certainly nowhere else to run. Even if he tried, he'd be hunted down like the wolf he was. Out of options, Sean reluctantly hopped in and closed the door of the metal beast behind him, taking a seat on the floor with his very first trafficking victim. I did this. This is all my fault. I’m not leaving you. A loud rumble came from beneath as the vehicle skidded along a gravel path and sped away into the cold black of the night.

"God, I’m sorry Mindi, please be okay, please!” he cried, holding the limp, clammy girl in his arms. “I’m so fucking sorry!”

Chapter Text

The day was sunny with scattered clouds in the sky. A slight breeze blew over the red bricked walls of Beaver Creek Elementary, forcing birds from the rooftops as the daily procession of buses arrived in the lot. Here and there, the echoed chatter of students waiting outside to be picked up early by their parents could be heard. Startled squirrels fled across the yard and up the trees. Grasshoppers hopped. Bees hovered from flower to flower along the sidewalks, sucking up nectar for their nests. Cicadas chirped. And somewhere inside a classroom covered in timetables and far too many inspirational posters, a bored half-Mexican boy sat with a group of his new friends, eagerly counting down the remaining seconds.

“Five...four...three...two...one...” Ring. “SPRING BREAK!” Daniel cheered with the rest of the class. Chairs squeaked and tables shifted noisily across the floor, leaving numerous black skid marks. Raucous noise enveloped the classroom as everyone broke into conversation and packed away their things, pushing and shoving each other to get to the door.

“Okay, I know you’re excited, but everyone please exit in an orderly fashion!” shouted Miss Jones, their fifth grade teacher. Only about a quarter of the class obeyed, while the rest cut in front and fled out into the hallway. “And don’t forget your reading assignments, those essays are due on my desk first thing in the morning when you get back! Four paragraphs minimum for a passing grade!” The remaining students left in the classroom groaned. “I don’t want to hear it, you all have plenty of time. Everyone be safe and have fun! Grab yourself some brownies on the way out. One per student, no hoarding, and yes, I see you Chad!”

Daniel hurriedly finished packing away his mess of notebooks and pencils and rushed over to the back of the line to join his friends Lucas, Natalie, and Jun Li. Lucas was definitely the nerd of the group, whom Daniel befriended first because he always seemed to get picked on a lot. He’d overheard more than a few racist remarks in the halls directed toward the boy that made him come close to using his powers on several occasions. Lucas was black and quite dark-skinned, with thick-rimmed glasses that looked a little too big for his face. His khakis and polos were always perfectly pressed. Daniel wasn’t as into science as he was, but the kid had some really smart jokes and they often played cards together with his Hawt Dawg Man deck.

Then there was Natalie, a pretty brunette, slightly tomboyish white girl who was heavy into writing her first novel. She did her best with video games. Wasn’t all that great at playing them, but her main passion was crafting fan fiction centered around the ones Lucas and Jun played together, which they adored her for. What few people knew was that she was also into old horror movies. She thought it might be a good starting topic to talk to her crush Mariska about, but Daniel could tell she wasn’t going to get very far. Mariska was straight.

The last of the group was Jun Li, who wasn’t much of an outcast in any sense, other than maybe from his family. His mother would demand he seize every opportunity for extra credit and make good grades, but he was more or less the class clown, always getting on Miss Jones’s nerves. He’d only complete half his homework and devote the rest of his time to gaming with Lucas. Daniel had witnessed him having bad days on multiple occasions, during which he’d either lash out and throw things, or be uncharacteristically reserved. Man, I can relate. But despite all their differences, it was a group that worked, and Daniel loved being a part of it. He only wished Chris was there. Then everything would be perfect.

“So, what are your plans for spring break?” Lucas asked as they all made their way into the hall, scarfing down the last of the brownies Miss Jones had so graciously brought in.

“I don’t know yet,” Daniel sighed. “Things are still weird at home. Haven’t heard from my brother, and Chris is still at his grandparents. I’ll probably just catch up on sleep. Maybe check out that new Power Bear game, if Stephen even gets me the iPhone he promised.”

“Bo-ring!” Jun chimed in. “You should totally come chill at my place. My parents bought this new computer for my brother to use for college, but they don’t know he’s already building his own. I’m gonna make me a sick gaming laptop out of it!” he grinned, wrapping his arms around Lucas and Daniel.

“Awesome possum!”

“Mah man! That’s what’s up,” Lucas smiled. “Think of all the calculations you could do on that thing.”

“Dude, come on, you’re not installing some nerd malware on my shit like you did last time.”

“Ubuntu isn’t malware,” Lucas defended. “And you won’t get viruses. It’s totally logic-based. Plus it’s way less annoying than Windows. I could practice my C++ in peace.”           

“Gayyy,” Jun yawned.

“Whatever. How bout you, Natalie?” Lucas asked.

“Dreaming of Mariska!” Jun laughed.

“Shut up! I don’t know, really. Probably checking out more of my dad’s horror collection.”

“For Mariska!” all the boys said in unison.

“Ugh, you guys don’t know when to quit! Luke?”

“Hmm,” the boy said thoughtfully. “It’s hard to say, but-”

“Studyinnnggg,” Daniel and Jun groaned together.

“Come on, I have to make good grades if I want to get into Harvard someday! You could use some studying with me too, Jun. I’m a good tutor.”

“Hard pass,” Jun rolled his eyes. “Just catch me on Fortnite if you’re not too busy.”

The group turned left and down another long hallway, making their way toward the exit, and freedom. Much as Daniel felt like an important part of their misfit clique, he’d still been wrestling for months over the decision of whether or not to tell them about his deepest secret. In a strange way, it made him feel like even more of an outcast to them than he did at home. It’s like they don’t even know me. He’d since learned that Claire had certain...misgivings about his powers, as well as a set of political beliefs he didn’t care for. Of course, she and Stephen were still super nice to him—even lenient. But at least with them, he knew where to tread carefully. What if I told Luke, Natalie, and Jun? Would they think I’m a freak? Daniel shrugged it off as they reached the sidewalk, where the buses stood in line to take them home. Nah, I better not. Maybe before summer vacation. That way, I won’t have to worry about seeing them for awhile in case they get weird. Ugh, I really miss Chris. He’s the only friend I can trust with that.

“Well losers, it’s been nice knowing ya, but I’m ow-WOOT!” Jun said, throwing up peace signs and backing away to his bus. “Peace, guys! Love you.” He blew kisses at them.

“Love ya too!” Natalie called. Jun disappeared through the doorway, but quickly popped his head back out for a final roast.

“Mariska doesn’t ride my bus, if that’s who you were talking to.”

“UGH freak, I’m gonna kill you, come back here!” she yelled, chasing after him as he ducked inside. The bus door closed in her face as the vehicle shifted into drive and began moving forward. Jun appeared above her, leaning out the window from the first seat as they drove off.

“Haha later Natalie, have a good spring break!”

“He is SO dead when we’re back in school!” the girl raged, storming back over to Daniel and Lucas, who had fallen into fits of hysterical laughter.

“Your face!” Daniel chuckled, pointing and catching his breath. “That was so priceless!”

“Ha-ha! We’ll see who’s laughing when you dweebs don’t do your essay. I already got mine done,” Natalie said proudly.

“I finished it last night,” Lucas said.

“Yeah, m-me too!” Daniel answered quickly, not wanting to sound stupid.

“Mmhmm. Hope you enjoyed those brownies while they lasted. Anyway, I gotta get going. I’ll see you boys later,” she stepped forward, hugging them both. “Hit me up on Snapchat! Wuv you’s.” She sprinted off toward the last bus in the lineup.

“Well Daniel, guess it’s just you and me left,” Lucas shrugged. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I’ll try. Just kinda tough with no phone or internet, really.”

“I could hook you up with a phone if you need one. Would only work on WiFi, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Nah, I better not. Too many eyes on me. Thanks anyways, Luke.”

“All right. Well hey, you take care, brotha,” the boy said, bringing him in for a pound hug.

“You too. Always got your back, dude.”

“Same for you, that’s why we’re friends. Color brothers for life!”

“For life.”

Daniel smiled and waved as they parted ways to their separate buses. It was good to have close friends to take his mind off of everything that had happened, even if he did at times question how close they really were. As he made his way down the aisle and chose a seat near the middle, he began to grow anxious about the prospect of returning home. It had been several months, and the FBI still continued to make their scheduled bi-weekly visits, despite Agent Flores’ assurance that it would only be temporary until he was back in school. But it was already halfway into the second semester, and they showed no signs of stopping. What the hell do they even want with me? All it did was distract him from homework and get Claire riled up about the state of the house. Every other week, she would go on a cleaning rampage. It also didn’t help that his new dog, Lucky—the Beagle-German Shorthair mix he’d gotten for Christmas—would scamper around the house and bark relentlessly at the vacuum.

“Get out of here, you crazy mutt!”

“Don’t talk to her like that! She’s just a dog grandma, she’s scared and doesn’t know any better,” he had said, cradling the pup in his arms.

“I knew it was a bad idea to get you a rescue dog. Teach her some discipline or take her outside, you know we’re having company later!”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sick of it! Come here Lucky, you poor little puppy, I love you.”

Daniel had later discovered it was Stephen’s idea to get the dog. She was a handful all right, but his grandfather reasoned that since both Daniel and Lucky had been through hardships neither of them could talk about, maybe they would be perfect for one another. So far, it seemed to be true. Lucky only ever responded to him alone. And much as that was a good thing, it also made her care challenging for the Reynolds while Daniel was at school. At least she seemed to be warming up to Stephen lately. Man, I love that dog, the boy thought.

As the bus began making its rounds of stops, he shuffled through his backpack to be sure everything was in order before digging out an old third generation iPod Nano he’d found at an old computer repair shop in town. Stephen was nice enough to allow him the privilege of iTunes on his laptop, but aside from that and some light browsing for school, it was the only extent of technological use he was permitted—other than television, of course. Daniel loved it anyway.

For the rest of the bus ride, he loaded up the Gorillaz’ Plastic Beach album and leaned his head against the cool window, thinking about Sean. Where his brother was, what he might be doing, whether or not he was angry. Who might be comforting him when he was sad, or when he was lonely. Do you still think of me too? ‘Melancholy Hill’ began to play as the bus drifted in and out of forested areas, a trailer park, cornfield roads, and finally, Evergreen Street. Tears streamed down Daniel’s face as he recalled everything they’d shared together over the months, and ultimately left behind. On most days, he could handle it. But not today.

As the bus at last pulled up to his house, he took a deep breath and scurried out, yanking the headphones from his ears. He tried to remember the last time the FBI visited, but couldn’t recall if it was the previous week or the week prior. They better not show up to ruin my spring break. Not like it would be much of an eventful one to begin with. He took a quick glance over at the Eriksen’s house and scanned the driveway. Charles’ truck was still nowhere to be seen from what he could tell, which meant Chris probably wasn’t home either.

“Just my luck,” the boy sighed, taking out his set of house keys. He opened the door and walked in, tossing his backpack aside and removing his shoes. “Hey Grandma and Grandpa, I’m home! Oh shit,” he whispered, jamming the iPod into his pocket once he realized it was still out. Stephen had made him promise never to let Claire see it, lest she throw a fit.

“Welcome back Daniel! I hope you took off your shoes this time!” she called from the kitchen. Lucky came running down the hall to greet him, tail wagging happily.

“I did!" he called. Ugh. Love Grandma, but she's so annoying. "Hey Lucky, how you doing girl? It’s good to see you too!” He knelt down to let her shower him with kisses. “Did you miss me, huh? Did ya? I missed you too.” Daniel made his way into the kitchen, where Claire had set out his usual after-school snack of Chock-O-Crisp cereal and a glass of milk. The boy hopped onto the stool and dove into the food as she joined him across the counter.

“So how was school today, sweetie?”

“It was all right. Miss Jones didn’t really have us do anything. We did some reading, then watched Toy Story 2.”

“Oh, I see,” his grandmother smiled, resting her face in her palm. “She give you any homework over the break?”

Daniel dropped his spoon with a sigh.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a four-paragraph essay. But I already wrote two, so...I’m halfway done.” He had learned pretty quick that it was better to tell her he was almost finished with his schoolwork than to say he had any to start. She would insist he go up to his room and hammer it out until he was finished. Probably why Mom left this place.

“Good to hear!” she replied. “I’m glad you’re keeping up with your studies.”

“Me too. It’s getting a little easier.”

“I had a feeling it would. And how about your new friends, are they still getting along?”

“Mostly. Jun Li can be sort of annoying, but he’s cool. Then there’s Natalie and Lucas. I think I like Luke the best. Natalie’s really into horror movies and likes this girrr...I mean, boy named...uh, Mark! Yeah, that’s his name.” Can’t tell Grandma she’s into girls or she probably won’t let me be friends with her.

“Oh, I remember my first crush in middle school,” Claire reminisced. “His name was Jonathan, and he-”

“Ew, Grandma! I don’t want to hear about that! No offense.”

“None taken,” she giggled. “Of course, that was ages before I met your grandfather at that silly disco party. But you kids are still so young yet. You have more than enough time, trust me.”

“Ehh...I don’t really think about that stuff.” Lucky came over and sat at the end of the counter aside them, whimpering with puppydog eyes. “Aw, you hungry girl?”

“She shouldn’t be, I fed her just before you got in,” Claire said. “But I’m sure she could use a...w-a-l-k very soon,” she said quietly.

“You mean a walk?” the boy grinned. Lucky went ballistic at the word.

“Oh look what you’ve done, shame on you!” his grandmother laughed over the barking dog. She got up from her seat to go grab the leash from a rack on the wall. “Though I suppose some exercise will do you both good since they’re still renovating the school gym. Maybe you can even take her next door, I think Chris should be home by now.”

Daniel leapt up excitedly from the stool.

“CHRIS? He’s back?!”

“Yes he is,” Claire said.

“YES! Woop wooo!” the boy cheered with Lucky. “Hear that, girl? Spirit Squad is back in action!”

“Okay now, settle down,” his grandma giggled. “Charles went back into town for a bit to grab a few groceries. If he sees you, please don’t tell him I said anything. He probably doesn't want the whole town to know he’s back just yet. Now, you remember the rules for going out by yourself, right?”

“Don’t go past the end of the block, be back before the streetlights come on, yeah, I know,” Daniel sighed as she handed him the leash.

“We just want you to be safe, sweetie.” She grabbed his chin and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Muah.”

“Blech, yuck!” the boy stuck out his tongue. “Why are grandmothers like that?”

“Because we love our grandkids,” Claire winked. The cordless phone on the countertop suddenly rang loud, derailing their conversation. “Oh goodness, not again! We keep getting calls today from some random number, every hour on the dot,” she huffed, checking the caller ID. “Yep, same number. Probably just one of those telemarketers. Says +52. Must be from outside the country.”

Daniel’s heart stopped dead in his chest. Outside the country. He looked over at his grandmother, who looked back at him. Her expression fell stern. The phone rang again. And again. She was obviously thinking the same thing he was. She had to be. The dog barked at the noise.

“Grandma,” the boy whispered, “w-what if it’s...”

“NO!” Claire snapped. “Absolutely not!”

“That could be Sean!”

“And so what if it is?! Daniel, you need to understand-”

“I don’t need you to protect me!”

“He walked out on this family, the same as your mother did when he left you at the border! And you came back to us a poor, defenseless child no thanks to him! With challenges we weren't expecting to face..." she choked up, covering her mouth. Ring. Ring. “I’m so sorry Daniel. You know I love your brother, but we just...can’t. And I won't go through losing you again.” 

“I don’t CARE, he’s my brother! And you’re not my mom!”

“And thank heaven for that!” The boy’s lower lip trembled as fresh tears engulfed his face. “Oh dear,” the woman gasped. “Daniel, I didn’t mean that...but Sean...he left you honey, and-”

 “He didn’t leave me, I left HIM!” Daniel cried, darting over the counter. Claire blocked him.

“Don’t you DARE touch that phone, young man!”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?! Ground me? Take away my DOG?!” A sudden surge of power rushed through his tiny veins. Oh no...calm the fuck down dude. “I’ll fucking...” he blinked rapidly, forcing himself to subdue the rage before anything bad happened to Claire. “UGH...I’ll...I’ll leave if I have to, okay?! I-I will! I have friends I could stay with!”

“Daniel, STOP!”

“NO!” he shouted, extending a hand toward the phone. The device whipped hard into his palm before she could stop it. Frantic, he smashed his thumb on the green button as hard as he could and pressed it to his ear, unconcerned that his grandmother had stumbled over a stool and now held herself up by the edge of the counter.

“Sean?!” he said. But the line had gone dead. All he heard was the dial tone. Enraged, Daniel hung up and hurled the phone across the room, leaving a large crack in the plasma TV screen. It didn’t feel like enough to dispel the rage building inside him. Nothing did. But at least it made him feel powerful enough to regain his composure before anything worse happened. Claire looked on, bewildered as he shot her a death glare. “I can’t believe you’d do this me AGAIN!” he cried angrily. “First Mom’s letter, and now you try to keep me from my own brother?! I HATE YOU!” He sniffed and wiped his nose, snatching up Lucky on his way to the front door.

“Daniel, wait!” the woman called, stumbling over to the hallway. “Please don’t go!”

“I’m going to see Chris! At least he understands me.”

“Daniel...Daniel!” she shouted.

“Just leave me ALONE!” The boy stormed through the entryway, targeting all his rage at the door. The deadbolt lock exploded out of the frame as it flew open, followed by a satisfying slam against the adjacent wall that shattered one of the side windows. He quickly blew through the screen door as well, marching on toward an empty street.

At last, all fell quiet inside him.

Chapter Text

Chris Eriksen had been kneeling alongside the coffee table, coloring in a new drawing and humming the Hawt Dawg Man theme song to himself when a series of frantic bangs came from the front door. His stomach jumped at the noise. He dropped the crayon. Dad, you better not be drunk again. The boy sighed and collected himself, preparing for the worst as he stood and plodded toward the door. His dad was three months sober. Three months, and you’re already screwing up? Great. Can’t wait. But the man usually said something if he was at the door. Not this time. A dog was barking. Chris peered through the peephole as more bangs came. It wasn’t his dad. It was...

“Daniel?!”

“Chris, are you there? Please open up!”

The boy excitedly twisted the locks and tore open the door to greet his long lost friend.

“Daniel, oh my god!” he squealed, launching forward to embrace him.

“Chris!” Daniel laughed happily and hugged him back. “God, I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too! I missed you too...” Chris held on for dear life and felt his little limbs lock up around his friend. For whatever reason, he’d stopped smiling. He found himself suddenly shaking, crying, holding on ever tighter as a painful lump emerged in his throat. Why am I feeling like this? It doesn’t make any sense. Daniel froze too as they hugged in the silence. After some time, his friend finally spoke.

“Uh, Chris? Are you all right?” The blond boy let go. “Aw, you’re crying!”

“Yeah, I just...was so scared I’d never get to see you again,” Chris said with a sniffle, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back!”  

“Aw, don’t be upset! I’m here,” he smiled, pulling the boy into another hug. “I’m so sorry I left you. You know I didn’t want to! Nothing I could do.”

“I know...but Daniel...where have you been all this time?”

The boy sighed as they let go. “It’s a long, very long, long, epic story,” his friend chuckled. "What about you? It's been months!"

"I was up with my grandparents." The dog brushed against Chris’s leg and sniffed him up and down happily as he knelt to pet her.

“That's my dog Lucky, by the way,” Daniel smiled. "Got her for Christmas."

“Hey, Lucky! Aw, she’s so cute!” Chris giggled. “Definitely a worthy addition to Team Spirit! Sorry, I guess I’m...still a little emotional.” He rubbed his eyes again, still confused over why he’d been crying. His chest was starting to hurt.

“It’s okay,” Daniel reassured him. “I’m not leaving you again, all right? Promise.”

“I know,” Chris nodded, smiling through the tears. “Well hey, you guys should come inside. I want to hear all about your awesome adventures!”

The two boys entered, closing the door behind them. It was then that Chris noticed Daniel didn’t seem to be wearing any shoes to take off. That’s weird, he thought. His socks were a bit muddy and grass-stained. He hated telling his friend to remove them, but after everything, his dad seemed more demanding about keeping the house clean. Something about ‘a clean environment leads to a sober mind’, or something he’d learned in group therapy. Chris didn’t get it, but he felt it was important anyway.

“Uh, Daniel? Would you mind taking your socks off? I’ll give you a pair of mine. Just...Dad’s been kind of a neat freak these days.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah,” Daniel obliged, slipping them off.

“How come you’re not wearing shoes?” Chris asked.

“I, um...sorta left in a hurry.”

His friend looked a little shaken, as if something bad had happened. Much as he wanted to ask about it, he was hesitant; he was used to his dad going off about the smallest things. Probably better not to. As the dog ran from room to room, curiously sniffing around, Chris went for the fridge to grab them some snacks. He couldn’t shake the thought that there would always be several packs of beer stacked inside upon opening the door. It was still weird to see his dad’s kale salads in place of it, along with grilled chicken, fresh fruit and vegetables, some herbs. Healthy stuff. Man, Dad’s really taking this sobriety thing seriously. He felt bad when he noticed there were actually very few things Daniel might like. He checked the freezer. Pizza rolls, score! Chris grabbed a plate from the cupboard and began arranging them in rows, then placed them in the microwave. His friend looked around with a surprised expression.

“Wow, it’s a lot cleaner in here than I remember!”

“Yeah,” Chris laughed as he set the timer. “Dad’s really changed, I guess.”

“That’s good. I remember he was a little...”

“Drunk?” the boy sighed. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry, Chris.” Daniel gave him a sympathetic look. I don’t want to get into it, but... “Um, he didn’t ever try to hurt-”

“You should tell me about your adventures!” the boy cut him off. 

“Oh! Right...you first?”

“Well,” Chris sighed, “I got back from my grandparents’ a couple nights ago. Dad was still checked into a place where they, uh...help people...like him. My grandpa stayed with me until he got back yesterday, so we cleaned the house. They’d wanted me to go to school up there in Springwater, but I’d miss Beaver Creek too much.”

“Man, I’d hate it if you lived that far. I made some new friends in school, but they’re definitely not as cool as you.”

“Thanks!” Chris blushed. The microwave beeped, and he opened the door to let their snacks cool off for a bit.

“So how was it? Living with your grandparents, I mean.”

“Oh, it was fine,” the boy answered. “Their place is kinda boring, but it’s big because they got money. They paid for Dad’s clinic, and bought me whatever I wanted. It was pretty cool. Just a little lonely, I guess.” He set out their pizza rolls on the table. Lucky came scampering over to beg for food.

“Is it okay if she has some too?” Daniel smiled.

“Oh yeah, sure!”

“Be careful Lucky, it’s hot!” the boy said, grabbing a roll off the plate. “Now sit down. Sit, girl! Good! Now roll over? Yes!” he cheered. “Good doggie!” He proceeded to pet her belly for a reward as Chris joined them on the floor to watch. Seeing his friend so happy made him happy, too. He was excited to get to their Spirit Squad play, but something about this was a little better. He had to envy Daniel a bit. His dad had always told him that one day, he’d let him get a dog or cat as a pet, but Chris had held off asking for the longest time. Not necessarily because he feared broaching the topic, but because he was afraid that if he got an animal of any kind, his dad might mistreat it during his binge drinking. But that’s all over now, right? He certainly hoped so.

“It’s your turn, Super Wolf!” Chris grinned. “Now that you’ve returned from your dangerous quest to the Outer Rim territories, Captain Spirit would like to know everything you have learned!”

“Okay! Hmm...well...as you know, Super Wolf and Silver Runner made their daring escape on an underground train to hide from Noctarious’s evil bounty hunters!” the boy exclaimed. “After that, they worked on a secret moon base, growing healing plants to get enough credits to pay for a starship out of there!” Daniel used his powers to fly three pizza rolls in the air to illustrate. Two of them orbited one, which dove up and down. “But just when things were getting good for them? BAM!” he shouted, using the main roll to knock one of the two out of orbit. “The evil owner Chupacabra attacked, and Silver Runner was out for the count! But Super Wolf rescued him, and Silver Runner took the blame.” He separated the two pizza rolls from the one. “They came up with a plan to leave the base, and tried stealing credits from the evil Chupacabra! Then...” he trailed off sadly, “Super Wolf did something bad. Really bad. And...and...” One of the pizza rolls suddenly exploded mid-air, ejecting cheese and sauce all over the clean linoleum floor, cabinets, and part of Chris’s face. The blond boy jumped in shock as Lucky darted over and began eagerly licking him.

“Stop, stop!” Chris laughed, backing away from the dog. “Oh man, that was so awesome! What happened next?” But Daniel’s expression had fallen serious. “Hey...are you all right?”

“Not really...can I ask you something, Chris?” The dog had left him to continue eating the exploded pizza remains off the floor.

“You can tell Captain Spirit anything!”

“Were you ever...mad at me? I mean, when you found out you couldn’t move things with your mind and stuff. I saw your face when I saved you from that cop car. You looked so upset. And you could’ve been seriously hurt!”

“Daniel, no, it’s fine. You saved my life. Twice. How could I stay mad at you for that?”

“I don’t know...I just don’t want to lie to you anymore! Sean made me do that to hide my powers all the time, and I hated it. So...you asked me why I wasn’t wearing shoes. It’s because I didn’t have time to grab them. I sort of had a fight with my grandma, and...I kinda broke their door,” he shuddered. “Someone was calling from outside the country. I thought it might be Sean, but she wouldn’t let me answer the phone. I just miss him, Chris! I miss my brother,” Daniel whimpered. His friend scooted over to sit beside him and rested a comforting arm over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said, leaning his head on him. “Look...you don’t have to tell me the rest. I know you’ve been through a lot. I think we both have. But now that the Spirit Squad is officially reunited, and Captain Spirit and Super Wolf are back together? I think we got this. Oh yeah!” Chris nodded, flashing a sly hero’s smile. Daniel laughed. I hope I can make him happy for the rest of my life, the boy thought.

For the first time in a long time, Captain Spirit felt content. Safe. Warm inside. And yet somehow, it was giving him serious butterflies, which scared him a little. Dark thoughts began to enter his mind. Thoughts that reminded him of Mantroid, and all that the supreme, evil being had taken away from him. He could hear the thing’s voice again, ever present, always taunting him in some way. You are weak. Pathetic. You think you have real superpowers? That your beloved Super Wolf will protect you? HA! He will leave you again in time, just as he did before. Perhaps I will take him, too. Then you will be all alone. Then, you will be mine! You can never defeat me, Captain Spirit. I am EVERYWHERE!

“Thanks Chris,” Daniel said, immediately silencing the voice. “I’m so glad you’re back, because you’re like a second brother to me. You’re the only other friend I have who knows about my powers. I guess I just need someone I can trust right now.”

“Super Wolf’s secret will always be safe with Captain Spirit!” the boy assured him. “Just...maybe we shouldn’t blow up pizza rolls in the kitchen again.” The two boys giggled together.

“I promise I’ll only do it in the tree house next time!” Daniel laughed.

Suddenly, the lock on the front door turned. Charles walked in. Chris panicked and immediately let go of his friend, bolting for the paper towels to begin cleaning up the splattered mess they’d neglected. His father was carrying a hefty bag of groceries as his keys fell to the floor with a clink. Daniel scrambled to secure Lucky so she wouldn’t bother him, but missed her by an inch. The dog ran over and leapt at the man’s leg, causing him to drop the bag.

“Ah Jesus Christ, what the hell?” Several boxes of pasta and cereal piled up at his feet as the dog barked excitedly. “Chris, what is this?!”

“S-Sorry Mr. Eriksen!” Daniel stammered, rushing over to help with the groceries.

“Oh shit, Daniel! Hey, it’s good to see you again, buddy!”

“You too!”

“Claire mentioned you were back when I called her this morning. I see you got yourself a friendly critter here,” he smiled.

“Yeah! This is my dog, Lucky. I got her for Christmas! Isn’t she the cutest?”

“That she is,” the man agreed, petting her softly.

“I didn’t mean to bother you guys, but Claire said...I mean, uh-”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Charles assured. “I’m sure Chris could use some company around here. We just got back from a little vacation with his grandparents. He was bored out of his mind up there. Weren’t you, son?”

“Uh...” Chris said. “Y-Yeah. There wasn’t a whole lot to do in Springwater.”

“It was good for us both to get away for a bit. Hey Chris, why don’t you uh, show Daniel out to my truck? I just got a couple more bags of things. And only take out what’s in the trunk, okay? I’ll take care of the...other stuff in the front seat.”

“Sure Dad, no problem.”

“That’s my boy!”

Chris lent Daniel his pair of fuzzy Power Bear slippers before leading him out the door and down the few steps over to the pickup truck near the garage. He had a bad feeling about what might be sitting in the passenger seat, but he followed his father’s instructions anyway to avoid any arguments. Daniel, however, was always the more curious and mischievous of them both. Chris was already expecting what would happen as soon as they made it to the trunk. Please don’t do what I know you’re about to, he thought to himself. But sure enough, Super Wolf was already peering through the window on the driver’s side.

“Psst, hey Chris, come here!”

“Daniel,” the shy boy sighed, “he said only the bags in the back.”

“But don’t you want to know what’s inside?”

“I already know what it is. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It looks like...flowers! And a present, and a card!”

“What?” Chris said, surprised. He hopped onto the back platform of the truck and crouched down at the back window, covering the sides of his face to see better through the glass. His sighting confirmed what Daniel said. A bouquet of a dozen roses lay out on the seat, along with a card and a box with a giant blue bow on it. He strained his eyes to make out the name, but it was partially hidden beneath the box. Oh no...does this mean Dad’s got a new girlfriend? Why wouldn’t he tell me? “Figures,” the boy muttered, backing away from the window.

“I mean...this is good, right? At least it’s not beer, or-”

“No,” Chris cut him off, snatching a heavy bag of cans as he jumped out the back of the truck. “It’s much worse.”

“I’m sorry, Chris...”

“It’s whatever. Just grab those two bags that are left? Then we’ll put everything away. I might need your help with something after.”

“Ooh, secret mission?”

“The Spirit Squad is on the case to stop the evil Fire Queen!” Chris smirked.

Once back in the house, the two boys helped Charles put away the groceries in their appropriate places in the fridge and cupboards. While they worked, the young Captain Spirit did his best to formulate a solid plan of action. It would be one that required the utmost skill, daring, and determination to execute successfully. All hands would have to be on deck. Sky Pirate would be their eyes in the clouds to warn them of advanced enemy maneuvers. The Forest Warrior would patrol the perimeter from below, with Mar-T Rex to back him up. Super Wolf would use his cunning powers to retrieve the Fire Queen’s secret plans from behind enemy lines. And deep in the thick brush of the jungle, Power Bear was hiding to lay the final justice smackdown!

*          *          *

“All right, listen up, Team Spirit!” Captain Spirit said firmly as his team entered the conference room, battle-ready snare drums playing in the background. All of his subjects stood at attention before him on the floor, eyeing each other nervously while he addressed them. “As you all know, this will be a particularly dangerous mission, and the stakes are personal! The Fire Queen has taken up residence on my home planet of Earth. I need every man, bear, T-Rex, and wolf to do his part to save our beloved galaxy before it’s too late. Is our battleship ready to patrol the skies, Sky Pirate?”

“Yes sir!” the bear reported in from the Flying Fortress. “But it’s still cloudy up here. Visibility at fourty percent.”

“Aye, it’s always cloudy in orbit, but use that to your advantage to stay hidden.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“How are we looking for ground duty with Mar-T Rex, brave Forest Warrior?”

“We can stand guard at the fence awaiting Super Wolf’s arrival once he gets back with the Fire Queen’s battle plans, sir! But it’s up to him to make it past the fence.”

“Understood, Warrior! My trusted and loyal friend Super Wolf, you play the most important part in this most dangerous mission! Are you fully prepared to retrieve the cell phone...I mean, battle plans,” Chris laughed, “from behind enemy lines, even if you should face certain death?”

“A hundred percent prepared, Captain Spirit!” Daniel exclaimed, crossing his arms in their signature X salute across his chest.

“Good! We’re all counting on you to infiltrate the enemy base and secure the precious cargo. With it, we can learn of the Fire Queen’s plans and prevent her from destroying the galaxy as we know it! Power Bear, are you ready to lay the final justice smackdown to advancing enemy troops in case they follow our brave Super Wolf into the jungle?”

“No one defeats justice!” the bear said triumphantly. “No one-no one-no one defeat-eat-eats justice!”

“His button sticks 'cause I spilled pancake syrup on him once, but I just say he’s a little glitchy from all the battles he’s been through,” Chris chuckled. “Anyway...you sure you can do this?”

“Oh yeah,” Daniel nodded. “Easy peasy!”

“As for me, Captain Spirit is going in himself with the daring and courageous Super Wolf! Stay on your guard and protect us, everyone. Godspeed and good luck! Captain Spirit out.”

“Godspeed, Captain!”

Chris set all his toys back on the shelf in a line with the utmost care and stood back with an arm around Daniel as they saluted Team Spirit together. For the young blond, it was an important ritual of faith he’d engage in every time he was about to do something that scared him. In those moments, he felt truly powerful and able to stand up to anything. Now, he felt it even more so, because Daniel was there beside him. I don’t know why, but with him, I feel like I could conquer the world. It’s so awesome to be best friends with a REAL superhero. He just hoped their plan to collect evidence from his dad’s phone would go off without a hitch.

The two boys crept cautiously through Chris’s bedroom door and around the corner, where they could keep a close eye on Charles making dinner. His back was turned to them as he shuffled around the kitchen for all the necessary ingredients, so they assumed it would be easy enough. But first, they had to determine the whereabouts of his iPhone. Chris would then distract the man, and once the device housing the ‘secret battle plans’ was found, it was up to Daniel to use his powers to float it over, where they’d read through the messages in the safety of Chris’s bedroom and write them all down.

“Man, I hope this works,” Daniel whispered. 

“It will. I thought you were a hundred percent ready!”

“I know, it just sounded cool to say. But what if he catches us, Chris?”

“He won’t. Trust me, I know him.” The boy kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the black rectangle before emerging from his spot. He scanned over the countertops, the table, the chairs, anywhere his father typically left it. Nothing yet. “Crap. I don’t see it, so wish me luck! Captain Spirit is going in.”

“Wait, I thought I was the one going behind enemy lines?”

“Whatever dude, that's just the story, we’re doing it together! You can’t distract him and grab it at the same time. If I’m right next to him, he’ll never notice.”

“Okay, but what about Lucky?”

“Oh no,” Chris facepalmed. He’d completely forgotten about the dog. Even though she seemed peacefully asleep on his bed now, the scents of dinner cooking might very well be enough to alert her, which threw a sizable wrench in their plan. If she bounded over at the wrong moment, Team Spirit was definitely doomed to fail. The boy wracked his brain for a moment. “Okay, uh...just close the door behind you.” Daniel obliged.

“All right...you ready?”

“Captain Spirit was born ready!” the boy smiled. He makes me feel so alive and confident. I hope we can go to school together. Man, that would be awesome. I bet no one would pick on me or tear up my drawings anymore, or make fun of my dad. Not with Daniel to protect me. There’s nothing we can’t do together. As Chris took his first steps toward the kitchen, he contemplated what he could say to his dad. Offering help seemed to be the best option, though he didn’t know much about these new healthy recipes he was making. They’d usually just made TV dinners or simple things like eggs and pasta. I wonder if his new girlfriend is teaching him this stuff?

“Hey Chris!” his dad called, turning and noticing him as Daniel backed around the far corner. “Oh, there you are. You mind helping me out by starting some pasta?”

“Uh, sure!” the boy said. His dad was chopping fresh vegetables and had a pack of shrimp open. Chris reached for a box and poured the pasta in a large pot, then filled it with water to the appropriate level. All the while, his eyes darted around the counter for the phone. Still nothing. Come on, I know he’s not that smart! Where could it be?

“So what’s Daniel up to?”

“He’s just in my room on the PlayBox.”

“Ah. Well it’s good to see you two back together again, after all this time. I know you really missed him.”

“Yeah. I’m really glad he’s back too.” Chris set the pot on the stove and set the heater for boiling. His dad gave him a pat on the back. While it seemed like a nice gesture, something about it gave him flashbacks to a time when the man had beaten him in a drunken stupor and left bruises on him. He cringed and shifted away.

“Oh Jesus,” his dad muttered, rubbing his face. “Listen, Chris...I know this doesn’t mean much coming from your old man, and every time I apologized to you, maybe I wasn’t...as serious as I should have been. But I know how much I hurt you. Trust me, I was trying to forget. I’m just so-”

“It’s fine, Dad. Really.”

“Come on,” the man sighed, somewhat annoyed. “It’s not fine. I want to apologize to you, because you deserved so much better from me as a father. And I swear to you, I’m trying my best now. So just...try to understand that, okay buddy? I never want to hurt you ever again.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“Well, I better get back to my veggies. This shit’s all new to me too, but ‘a healthy body leads to a healthy mind’, or so they’ve been telling me in group,” he laughed. “Such bullshit. I’ve barely cooked a day in my life. Blanch vegetables? What the hell is that?”

As his dad turned his back, Chris noticed something large sticking out the back pocket of his jeans. Wallet? No. Too big. Oh my god, that’s it! He looked back nervously in Daniel’s direction, but the boy was already on it. The phone began slowly rising upward out of the pocket. Oh no, not yet! Think fast Chris, come on!

“Uh, Dad!” the boy rushed forward, embracing his father as the device launched out of his jeans and darted across the room into Daniel’s waiting hands. He held it up to show him the mission was a successful one. Phew, that was close.

“Whoa, hey there!” the man laughed, hugging his son back. “What’s this about?”

“I don’t know,” the boy blushed. His heart was still pounding from the situation. “I guess I just missed you when I was at Grandma and Grandpa’s. And I love you Dad, no matter what. You’re still the coolest ever.”

“Thanks, buddy. That means a lot to me,” the man said, rubbing his back. “I love you too.”

“Hey Chris, come check this out! I just beat the eighth level!” Daniel called.

“Why don’t you go spend time with your friend?” Charles smiled.

“Uh, you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I got this,” his dad assured him. “Hopefully I don’t burn the place down, or we might have to call Stephen and the fire brigade over,” he laughed.

“Okay Dad,” Chris smirked. “Talk later.” The boy eagerly rushed back to his room and opened the door to see Daniel on the bed with Lucky yawning beside him.

“Did you get it?”

“Duh!” Daniel said. “Needs a passcode though. And close the door, dummy!” He hopped over and shut it, twisting the lock on the knob just in case.

“It’s the numbers for HAWT DAWG,” Chris said, snatching the phone from his friend’s hand and punching it in as he paced around the carpet. “Yes, we’re in! Okay...you got a piece of paper? There’s some on my desk with the crayons.”

“All ready, Captain!”

“And why did you grab the phone before I said anything?”

“Oh come on, he wouldn’t have even noticed. I got it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, just don’t be stupid about it next time!”

Daniel shot him an angry look.

“I’m not stupid! Are we gonna fight, or are you gonna read it?”

“Yeah...sorry. Actually, why don’t you read it, and I’ll copy it down? I just...don’t know if I can handle reading it myself.”

“Ooh, is Captain Spirit scared?” his friend mocked. He sounded like Mantroid.

“Shut up Daniel,” Chris replied.  

“Yeah...guess I deserved that one. Okay.” The boy handed him the phone. As Chris sat down at his desk, Daniel began to read aloud through Charles’s contacts. “Let’s see. You got numbers for rehab, work, Stephen. Who’s Kristen Wyatt?”

“That’s my grandmother.”

“Oh. Adam Morrison, John Blazkowicz-”

“Those are guys, just look at the texts!”

“Okay! Don’t get all pissy. Hmm...Linda Reilley. ‘It was nice to see you in group today. I just want you to know I really resonated with those feelings of failure you brought up, especially in being a parent myself. I know I need to be there for my remaining daughter, as I lost custody of my youngest. It’s absolutely shattering, but I envy you, because you still have the chance to make things right with your son. If you don’t do it for any other reason, please continue your treatment for the sake of him, while he’s still young enough to love you unconditionally.’ I don’t see anything lovey from her.”

“Good. What’s the next one?”

“Jessica Munther. ‘Hallå, fellow Viking! I’d speak some Swedish, although I don’t think you would understand, not that I know much. My grandparents were from Gothenburg. Still, how about that group therapy, right LOL? Too many rules here. It’s not our fault the world sucks. Anyway, hope it’s going better for you than it is for me. PS: I snuck in some vodka if you ever need it, just FYI’ and she put a winky face. ‘You’re pretty handsome! Hope I see you again.’ He didn’t answer her, don’t worry.”

“Well who did he answer?”  

“The top of the list is Audra Kieling.”

Chris’s heart stopped. “That might be her! Found a note from her in his closet once.”

“She says ‘hey’. ‘Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,’ all a few weeks apart. Another month apart. ‘Hey can we talk please? Hey, hey, hello, Charles I know you’re there, have you been okay, what’s going on? I know this sounds crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I still love you.’ Then he answers her.”

“Anything about him making stuff up to her? I think they fought in the letter.”

“‘Hey Audra. Sorry I haven’t answered, but I’ve been in rehab for alcoholism. Had to sort myself out. Permanently. We aren’t supposed to have our phones, but the night clerk is an understanding guy. I get it if me telling you this means you never want to speak to me again, but I feel you deserve to know why I treated you so badly in the first place. In the meantime, there’s a lot of things I have to do differently, so I hope you understand we probably shouldn’t talk until my discharge, even if you still want to. But please know that I do miss you and think of you often, and when we do meet again, hopefully I’ll be a changed man and we can start things where we left off. But first, I owe you (and a lot of other people) a huge apology. You’re the first on my list. Maybe I can make it up to you with a date so we can talk?’ And she says ‘how about Bertolucci’s?’ with a smiley face. He said that’d be perfect. Looks like they’re going out for dinner next Sunday...sorry, Chris.” Daniel looked grim.

“Man, I knew it!” the boy snapped, banging his fist on the table. He looked over what he’d managed to copy down in blue crayon on the blank page. His chest was starting to hurt again, even as Daniel stepped over the mess of toys to comfort him in the corner. The Fire Queen was starting to look like just as bad an enemy as Mantroid. Maybe even just us undefeatable. Lucky came over to join them, sensing the boy’s pain. “I don’t get why he’d want to see someone else,” Chris cried. “Doesn’t he love me? Isn’t he sorry for hurting me? Fucking Mantroid wrecks everything!” The crayon on the page was starting to smear from his tears.

“Whoa! I thought superheroes don’t swear.”

“Well we’re not superheroes, Daniel! Except for you! Your powers are real, and I’m just...Chris...”

“You’re not 'just Chris'. You’re my friend!” Daniel hugged him tight. “And I thought about you every day after I had to leave. Every single day! I hung your cape up in my tent in California. I drew a huge picture of you in the Arizona desert. You think stupid Mantroid is everywhere? You’re everywhere, Chris! You’re my superhero. Just because I can do these things doesn’t make me better than you. So don’t ever talk about yourself like that! Because I’ll always want to be Super Wolf and Captain Spirit with you. Always!”

Something inside the young boy immediately lit on fire upon hearing those words from Daniel. I mean that much to him? It was hard to fathom that his friend didn’t even consider the fact he had genuine superpowers half the time. That still, after everything, he just wanted to be Captain Spirit and Super Wolf, powers or not. He was much happier and more proud to simply be Chris’s friend. He would trade it all for me, the boy realized.

Maybe that’s what brotherhood truly meant. Sacrifice. Being each other’s heroes. The butterflies came fluttering in his gut again as he focused on the feeling of his friend’s warm body pressed against his. He was curious how many nights Sean had comforted Daniel in this way. But for Chris, it was beginning to feel like something else. Like some kind of strange desire he couldn’t openly express. He didn’t just want love. He needed it, and lots of it—the kind of love that could only come from Daniel. Is this what it means to truly fall, and have someone catch you before you hit the ground? Feels like I’m floating above the snow again.

That feeling, he would cherish forever.

Chapter Text

It was already dark out by the time Daniel made his way home with Lucky beside him. He had spent the previous night and the entire second day of his spring break with Chris, and they’d had so much fun, he didn’t want it to end. Claire called the house several times of course, begging for him to come home, but Charles insisted their time together was important for the two boys. After the fifth call that day, however, it was apparent Daniel could only avoid the Reynolds for so long. He hated leaving Chris behind for what felt like the second time. It reminded him of being on the road, constantly dodging cops with Sean. For better or worse, it was time to give himself up. Again. Man, I hate this.  

As he plodded back toward the familiar red house—without a doubt the nicest-looking one on the block—he thought back on everything that had happened that day. Charles took them to see a rather odd movie called A Wrinkle In Time, which they both loved. Charles, not so much. During some of the more intense scenes, Daniel had felt Chris taking hold of his hand under the arm rest, and there were many moments like that scattered throughout the day. It was nice, but he’d gotten the sense there was more going on with his friend than just a brotherly vibe. Does he...like me? Do I like him like that? the boy wondered. Daniel wasn’t so sure. They’d fallen asleep cuddling the previous night. It was something he missed with Sean, and they both seemed to need it. Yet with Chris acting as close as he did, he began to worry how things would go for them both in the next school year if his friend came out. Or if things between them escalated. Chris would be back to attend Beaver Creek Junior High in the fall, after all. Guess I’ll have to protect us no matter what, Daniel thought with a sense of pride.

He walked on past the eerie, misshapen fence that separated the Reynolds’ property from the Eriksen’s. Looking toward the front porch, he noticed the light was on, but the doorway he’d since destroyed had been boarded over. His heart sunk at the sight. Damn. They probably have to use the back door now because of me. And they’re old, Stephen probably can’t do that much walking after the cabinet fell on him. How can I even face them after wrecking their house? He tried to think about where the situation might go. Would Claire call the feds and have him sent away? No. She didn’t do that before. He’d be grounded, definitely. But from what? Living with them already felt like too much of prison, thanks mostly to federal restrictions. He still wasn’t allowed to explore the town on his own. He didn’t really have electronics. They could stop him from seeing his new friends, but he already didn’t get to hang with them much anyway.

“What are we gonna do, Lucky?” he stopped, kneeling down to pet her. “I can’t go in there after breaking their door.” She gazed at him with those wide, sad, puppydog eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” he sighed. “I know, you want your real food back. But think about what it’s gonna do to me for a change.” She whined and hopped up to lick his face, and he laughed. “No!” he giggled. “I’m not ready yet, girl. And what if they take you away from me, huh? I can’t lose you. You’re my best friend. Well...other than Chris. Wish you could’ve met Mushroom, too. You guys would’ve loved playing together.”

Daniel hugged his dog and looked up at the night sky, with all its many stars hooked in their places. The countryside and mountain areas were always the best to see them. It reminded him of those nights out on the lake down in Humboldt, when he’d often sneak out of the tent alone. Back in Away where it was clearer than ever, he’d done it all the time. It made him feel at peace to think of his dad looking down on him with Mushroom, and helped in refocusing his anger a bit. Just then, a tiny white streak darted over the far horizon. Oh my god, shooting star! Make a wish, make a wish quick! He closed his eyes.

“Please let me Sean again, please, please, please!” he prayed, leaping up to his feet, “Awoooo! Awooo!” he howled. Lucky barked and howled too. “Awooo! Come back Sean!” he yelled. “Awooo! Ow, ow, owooooo!” Daniel laughed and pet his friend. “Good girl, Lucky! Wolf Brothers and Wolf Sister. Haha!” He smiled triumphantly as the magic of it all seemed to surround them. It felt electric, as if the winds of change were upon him. Superpowers or not, he felt in that moment that he could do anything. “Whew...I feel a little better now,” he sighed, crossing over into the Reynolds’ yard. But for whatever reason, hope dwindled fast, and the aura of dread remained over him like a dark cloud that only seemed to get bigger the closer they got to the house. “Ugh. I don’t know, girl. Let’s just stay in the shed for a little, okay? I just need to think about what I'm gonna say to Claire.”

Daniel snuck through the shadows over to the tiny structure. Stephen kept it locked at all times, but there was a spare key attached at the back. At least I won’t have to destroy anything else, he thought. He kept a close eye on the glass double doors at the back of the house before moving around to the front of the shed, staying alert for any sign of Claire in the living room or kitchen. It was around 9pm. Everything looked quiet. The only light came from their bedroom window on the second floor. A sudden flash of blue from the living made him stop in his tracks. Calm down, Daniel. They’re probably just watching their Antiques Roadshow. After cautiously working his way around the front, he unlocked the doors and slipped inside with Lucky. Numerous old girls’ toys his mother had owned were scattered about, along with an array of gardening tools, shovels, spades, and the lawn mower. It smelled like a mixture of fresh grass, pine, and a hint of gasoline. Lucky yapped and tried escaping out the door, but the boy held her tight in his arms.

“Sorry. Just give me a minute, okay?”

And so the young wolf sat hunched over, catching whatever breath he could from the spring’s night air. He remembered one time when he and Sean had slept in a place like this. Strangers in a strange land—well, more like strangers in some stranger’s back yard. He didn’t miss that part of it. Their backs had hurt terribly the next morning from the hardwood flooring, and they’d had to dash across several back streets when the people who lived there almost caught them. The next town over, they’d slept in someone’s garage, until Sean found them some crappy work in the afternoon. He still hated his brother for all of it—not that it was his fault. Daniel felt himself feeling tired, which was odd. He hadn’t gone to sleep so early since his days on the road. Maybe it was the memories bringing that out.

All of a sudden, a sliver of white light broke through the slightly open door.

“Oh shit, shit!” Daniel gasped, snapping to attention. The door moved aside him. Lucky growled as a dark figure towered over them in the doorway.

“Quien eres!” A voice demanded in Spanish.

“What? What’s going on?!” the boy panicked. He suddenly felt warmer, and the night air, colder. An extra piece of clothing was draped over his body that shouldn’t have been there. He looked down, and his hand brushed over a scratchy piece of worn, blue and red screen print. I’m wearing Sean’s hoodie. What the hell is happening? Without thinking, he raised his hand toward the malevolent force, catapulting the dark figure backward into the shadows from whence it came. The light in his eyes immediately disappeared, then came back.

“Daniel?” A voice called. “Daniel, wake up!”

“Huh?” He opened his eyes. Stephen was hovering over him with a flashlight.

“What the devil are you doing out here? Are you all right, young man?”

“Oh Grandpa, I’m so sorry!” the boy cowered. “I didn’t mean to wreck your door! I know I was supposed to be back, but-”

“Now calm down, I’m not here to yell at you,” the man assured him. “But it’s already 10:30 and the Eriksens said you left. We were just getting worried. You okay?”

“I don’t know,” Daniel sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest. “I just...feel really bad for what happened. I was afraid to go back inside. That’s all.”

“You mind if I have a seat and we can talk?”

“Sure.”

The boy scooted over as Stephen entered the shed and crouched down to sit beside him. His grandfather set the flashlight down, pointing upwards on a shelf so there was just enough light for them to see each other in the dark. Lucky stepped over their legs and lay down between them in the quiet.

“You know, Daniel...Claire and I, we had some really long talks before you came back into our lives. We knew that having you live with us came with certain...challenges. Not just because of what you can do, but because at our age, raising a kid is, well...tough,” he cleared his throat. “As for me, I never admitted this to her, but. I always did want a son, you know? I think secretly, all fathers do. I suppose it seems silly to hear an old man like me say that, especially since you did have one hell of a good dad, God rest his soul. And maybe it’s a little selfish of me too, but. I was excited when we got the news you were safe. I wanted you back with us.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish at all,” Daniel said. “You’re really cool, Grandpa. I always did want to stay with you guys.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Still...your brother didn’t, and we couldn’t stop him. Not that it was safe at the time for you boys anyway. I know Sean had a lot of his own concerns. After you both left and I recovered, I spent a lot of days holed up in my office. Heh, I missed the hell out of you guys! It broke my heart to see you go. All I could do was hope to God you were safe. I prayed quite a bit, and even Claire could tell you, I’m not the praying sort,” he chuckled as Daniel listened intently. “Then, after some time...I got a letter in the mail with no return address. I still keep it on me to read it from time to time.” Stephen dug in his right pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, the edges worn from having been crumpled. “You deserve to see this.”

Daniel unfolded it and sat across from him for more light to read it aloud.

“‘February 12^th, 2017. Hey Stephen.’ It’s from Sean!” He looked up excitedly, but his grandfather urged him to continue. “‘Please don’t let Claire read this, because we both know how she is. I just wanted to let you know that Daniel and I are doing fine. We found some work out in California. It’s a steady gig for now, and we’re able to save up on cash. That’s all I can tell you. I can’t thank you enough for what you and Claire did for us, even if we didn’t leave on the best terms. I’m sorry for breaking the rules. But I know our time in Beaver Creek meant a lot to Daniel. That’s why I’m writing you.

Visiting you guys made me realize something I can’t stop thinking about. My brother deserves a good home, Stephen. Right now, that’s not something I can give him. Maybe when we’re older, but by then, it’ll be too late. He’s just a kid. He needs a house and a family. Not some shack, tent, back alley, or cave,’” Daniel choked up as he read. “‘And going to Puerto Lobos is dangerous. If the cops find me, they’ll put him in foster care, and that’d be worse for a lot of reasons, the biggest of which you probably already know. That’s why it’s so important he ends up with you if anything happens to me. So first, I want to set the record straight about Seattle.

I didn’t admit it to you before, but I should have. You were right. He has these telekinetic powers I can’t explain, and they grow stronger by the day. It all started after that cop shot our dad. Daniel screamed, and something just...happened. I blacked out and when I woke up, the whole street was a mess. That’s why I ran. I was scared, and I get more scared with every day that this will catch up to me. But Daniel can’t be blamed for my actions, or for the death of that officer. Ever. He just can’t. It was a freak accident. We didn’t realize he could do all these things back then, so his innocence MUST be protected. Always.

Deep down, I know he doesn’t want to come with me to Puerto Lobos. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he left me at the border, if we make it that far. I can make a lot of choices in his best interests between now and then, but I can’t force him to keep running if he decides otherwise. It’s just not fair to him, and I’ve done enough damage already. So considering what he can do, if he ever does end up with you...I beg you to always be as patient with him as I have. His powers can be a force for good in so many ways, but they can also cause a lot of destruction if he’s not careful. At the end of the day, no matter what happens...try to remember he’s still just a kid. Not a monster. That label belongs to me. Love always, Sean Diaz.”

“He knew,” Daniel sniffed, crumpling the note in his hands. “He knew I’d leave him the whole time!”

“That’s not really the point of why I showed you that,” Stephen said, taking the letter back to refold it. “But I think he did get the sense that you’d be much happier here, and he was ready to accept that if you decided to part ways. He just wanted at least one of us to understand what we were getting ourselves into if we took you in. That way...we’d be prepared for these things.”

“So you’re not angry at me?”

“Never,” his grandfather assured him. “But like any growing boy, you know, we just have to take it one day at a time. I know Claire can be tough, but she means well. I spoke with her when I got home and was able to calm her down. It's a learning process for us, too. Just don’t forget how much we love you, and we’re not going to treat you any different, okay?” Daniel leaned forward to hug him, and they embraced each other.

“I’m sorry. I love you, Grandpa.”

“I love you too, kiddo,” the man pat his back. “Don’t you worry. Things are going to be just fine. Maybe you could help me out with some yard work and we’ll call it even for that door and the TV, huh? Mowing this huge lawn is getting to be a little rough at my age.”

“Yeah,” Daniel sighed. “That sounds fair. Hey Grandpa?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Sean’s really a monster, like he said?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I think he just did the best he could, given the situation. I know he felt bad for dragging you along, even if it was to protect you. He didn’t want you to hate him for it. But he knew that you were growing up fast, and eventually, you’d have to make your own choice.”

“I guess...do you think I made the right one?”

“Only you can answer that,” Stephen replied.

“Hmm,” Daniel thought for a moment, “I think I did. Just miss him a lot. I hope I get to see him again.”

“I have no doubt you will,” the man patted his knee.

“What about Sean? Did he make the right choice?”

“I think in the end, we all have to make the choices that are best for ourselves, Daniel. He made so many of his choices for you. You made a lot of yours for him. Now, you each have to decide what’s right for yourselves. Come to think of it...that’s probably the most valuable lesson your mother ever taught me when she left.”

 “Whoa,” Daniel breathed. He didn’t think they’d be finding such common ground, considering their age gap. In some ways, it made him feel much more confident with his decision than he’d ever been in the months since his return. “Do you ever miss Mom like I miss Sean?”

“Every single day,” Stephen said without hesitation.

“Aw. I saw her looking at your pictures the night before we left. I know she misses you too.”

“Th...Thank you, Daniel,” the man nodded and sniffed. “Thank you. Hearing that means more to me than you know. Well,” he sighed, rising to his feet, “we should probably get back inside before the Wicked Witch of the West comes down on us.”

“Grandpa!” the boy laughed along with him as they exited the shed with Lucky trailing behind them.

For the first time in a long time, Daniel Diaz finally felt at home again with the Reynolds. As they gathered around the coffee table together to play board games and shared stories from their lives about their many travels and experiences, he continued wondering how his mother and Sean were doing. He hoped his wish would come true.

And he hoped that wherever ‘El Lobo’ was now, that he was okay too.

Chapter Text

April 10^th, 2018
11:58pm
Mexico City, MX

Sean paced nervously back and forth on the balcony of the third roach motel Jorgé and his friends had chosen that week, smoking his fifth cigarette in a row. They’d booked two connecting rooms before arriving an hour prior. One for Mindi and their clients, the other for setting up appointments and collecting payments. She was lucky to have survived, or so he’d been told. Yeah right. She’d be better off dead than with us. Despite all his attempts to convince them they were carrying a budding high-profile socialite after checking her social media, the cartel didn’t seem to care. This was a simple use-once-and-discard mission. After they extorted what money they could from her father, they’d return her—in pieces.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, running a hand over his fresh buzzcut as he looked over the horizon. From the outskirts of the city, the view was almost peaceful. An ocean of light lay before him across a beating heart of darkness, its veins alive, pumping traffic to and fro throughout the vast metropolis. And there at the southeast end, barely visible and encased in shadow, stood the looming volcano of Popocatépetl—‘El Popo’, as Jorgé called it—like some Mexican version of Mount Doom. Sean had to wonder if his father ever got to see it. Memories of those careless days watching The Lord of the Rings together with Daniel entered his mind. The more months that passed, the more it all felt like someone else’s life. He checked the time on his burner phone again. 12:00 AM. April 11.

“Daniel,” Sean gasped. Tears flooded his good eye. He considered calling, but the Reynolds would be asleep by now. And with as many times as he’d tried several days ago and gotten no response, it seemed useless anyway. They probably all hate me. “Happy eleventh birthday, bro. Guess I’m missing another one,” he cried, flicking the remainder of his cigarette out into the parking lot to let the darkness swallow it. Just like everything else. He was pissed now. Sean stormed back into the hotel room, slamming the door behind him and hurling his phone at the wall.

“Hey, qué estás haciendo?!” Jorgé demanded.

“He terminado con esta mierda!”

“Baja la voz, we’re in a motel!”

“I don’t give a fuck where we are!”

“Sean, breathe!” the man urged, grabbing hold of his shoulders. “What the fuck’s gotten into you, amigo? Eh?”

“Like I said...I’m sick of this shit,” he sighed. “And it’s my brother’s birthday.”

“Aww, you’re breaking my heart! Guess what? I don’t care. We all got families to take care of. You know how many of my little brother’s birthdays I missed?” the man turned away.

“Yeah. ‘Mi familia también duele’. I’ve heard it all before. Doesn’t excuse what we’re doing.”

“You know what, Sean? You’re just a gringo!” Jorgé snapped, pointing in his face. “A little fucking white boy who doesn’t understand shit about what we do. Should have stayed in America, coño. Seem to relate to that side of you better,” the man said, sitting back on the bed to watch his soccer game.

“Like this isn’t a federal offense we could get busted for in any country.”

“No point getting out of it now, unless you want iced. Why don’t you sit and enjoy the game with me, eh? What kind of sports you like?”

Sean did his best to calm down.

“Well,” he sighed, taking a seat on the bed, “I used to be on my high school track team in another life.”

“Seriously?” Jorgé laughed. “No wonder you’re so good at running away!”

“Yeah...guess it is a little ironic,” the boy chuckled.

“Everything comes full circle, amigo. That’s why I sit back, put my head down, relax my feet. Zen out, man. Everything will be okay.”

Sean felt like throwing up every time his partner said that. He glanced around the room, observing the two men at the desk checking over the paperwork of their clientele. One was counting cash, while the other cut lines of cocaine. Out here, it just looked like your average drug business. But behind the door in the next room over, someone was keeping Mindi sufficiently doped up as they waited for the next client to show. They would be arriving within the hour. The young boy began to sweat at the thought. He considered his own age, too. Many of the victims that got trafficked weren’t much younger than him. It was easy to forget he was still seventeen himself until August. And I’m helping these scumbags.

“You still never told me how you’re so fucking chill about all this.”

“One sec,” Jorgé said, changing the TV station. “Hey, ve a ver a la chica, si?” he said loudly, addressing the two men at the desk. They grumbled complaints in Spanish, but quickly got up and went into Mindi’s room, closing the door behind them. Jorgé muted the television, scooting over to sit on the edge of the bed with Sean. “Now that the cucarachas are gone,” he rolled his eyes. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to say, okay? Not a single soul.”

“Okay.” Damn, he looks scared.

“Like I told you before, Gilberto knows things. Things that helped him build this business faster than anyone else I’ve ever seen. This cartel’s become like a fucking empire under him. Other cartels pop up, he just swallows them whole. Just a few short years ago, he was scrounging for scraps at the bottom of some other boss. But within two years? Shit just exploded for him. And this man’s got everyone on his side, and when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Cops, politicians, rich investors, even some people in the Polícia Federal. They all look the other way. But how does he know all this shit? Forget logic for a minute. How would he know what moves to make, every single time? With virtually no risk to him or his family.”

“Um...I don’t know,” Sean shrugged. “Sounds like he’s got...superpowers or something. Wait,” the boy gasped. He’d spit out the word like it was nothing, and yet...Daniel has them. Is this really so far a stretch? No way. This was some X-Men level shit. “You’re not actually suggesting...” the boy chuckled. “You really believe in that crap? Come on, dude!” He had to force himself to appear skeptical. If I look like I believe him...maybe this is some other test.

“Man, I knew it was a mistake to trust you,” Jorgé rubbed a hand over his face.

“Nah, it’s cool! Lo siento. Seriously, no bullshit. I want to hear it.” And it’s probably best if I know.

“All right. So Gilberto has a daughter, eleven years old, yeah? Her name is Catalina. Flowing dark hair, big smile, full lips, pretty eyes, most beautiful chica you ever saw. Over the years as she grew up, he’d have us chauffeur her to school, to all her social events, doctor’s appointments, her mother’s house, even a child psychologist. Later on, we were instructed to terminate that psychologist and destroy all the paperwork on Catalina. None of us knew why, but we didn’t ask. Then around the end of this past summer, he has her shipped off to the States.”

“So he’s got something to hide...something he can’t keep here.”

“Exactly. But instead of destroying all her paperwork, one of my guys got a copy. Turns out Catalina was diagnosed schizophrenic. Everyone who knew their family assumed maybe Gilberto was ashamed to deal with her, but that’s where it gets interesting. Because the moment she stopped seeing that psychologist? That’s when his business starts taking off like wildfire.”

“Whoa,” Sean breathed.

“Yeah. And if you read the transcripts of their meetings? This psychologist, man, she was scared as hell. Because this girl was bringing up shit about that woman’s childhood. Things and details it would have been impossible for her to know, she knew. And then,” he shrugged, “it would fall apart.”

“What do you mean, fell apart?”

“Catalina...she’s not psychic. She’s something else. Because she’d tell this lady about every single choice she’d made in life up to that point. Then she’d talk about how it branches out, one after the other, like an endless tree. How every choice you make, good or bad, there’s a reaction. A new path. And that path goes on forever. Catalina knew every possible outcome that could stem from just one choice, one point in the tree. In other words-”

“She’s a human risk calculator.”

“No. She’s a lot more than that,” Jorgé said, looking him in the eye. “This gift of hers...Sean, I don’t know what it does to people, but I heard a lot of stories of Gilberto taking people who owed him money into his office with her. Almost all of them would come out in comas. Before that, they started screaming about things they could see. Other lives, other versions of themselves. Things that just weren’t there in our reality. Even dead relatives. And Catalina could see them all. Every choice. Every reality. Whether people might double-cross him or not, whether certain people would be beneficial...it’s not so hard to determine when you’ve got someone who knows where all your choices will lead.”

“Damn, that’s mental,” Sean shivered. “So you’re thinking that’s how Gilberto built his business.”

“Precisely. And how he convinced people to invest in him. Because if you see yourself living the good life, and not just see it, but to feel it? I imagine that sways a lot of people.”

“So,” Sean wondered, his eye drifting over to the TV stand, where a loaded gun sat on the edge. He watched. He waited. He thought about how long it might take the other three henchmen to come bursting through the door of Mindi’s room after the first shot was fired. And how long it might take after that to collect her and make his escape before the cops showed up. “Did it sway you? Is that why you’re still fine with all this shit?”

“It’s given me perspective,” Jorgé replied. “Yeah.”

“And you think that all these innocent girls you kidnap-”

“That we kidnap. Don’t pretend like you don’t play a part in this too.”

“Yeah,” the boy said, his heart beginning to race. Now where are the keys to the car? He looked back toward Jorgé slowly, so as not to raise suspicion. On the desk. “I guess we all have our parts to play. Don’t we?”

“Hey Sean...dónde te sientas en el árbol?”

“Good question,” the boy thought. “Yo vivo. Tu mueres.” He bolted for the gun. Jorgé moved to tackle him, but it was too late. Sean whirled around on his back and squeezed the trigger as the man flung himself forward, planting a single bullet between his eyes. A loud pop sounded, followed by a quick splash of blood. The boy’s eardrums fell mute. Barely a second later, the two men from the other room stormed in, their guns drawn. Sean rolled over Jorgé’s dead body and took aim behind the bed. He squeezed again, twice. Pop, pop. He blasted one in the throat. The second shot landed in the shoulder of the other, who stumbled back against the desk, smearing cocaine everywhere as he cradled himself. He powered forward and fired back at Sean, hitting him square in the left bicep. Pain ripped down the length of the teen’s arm as warm blood gushed through his hoodie. He cried out, but kept his right arm steady, driving the remaining three rounds straight into the man’s chest. Crimson spurts shot into the air as he hit the wall and slumped over. Sean dove forward, heading for his pistol.

The last man barged through the doorway with a knife in hand. Shit! Out of ammo, the teen switched positions and plowed hard into the gang member with his right shoulder, knocking him flat. The man’s arm raised. His knife was pointed inward. Fuck no! Sean rolled off of him as his arm drove downward to the left, stabbing the floor. He’d missed the boy’s side by an inch. Desperate, Sean straddled the man and grabbed his wrist with his left hand, forcing him to drop the weapon. Then the teen lunged forward and grabbed the man’s neck with his right, reaching for the blade with his other hand as the lackey clawed at his arm. Gripping the knife tight, he rammed it through each of the man’s eyes. He screamed. Sean drove it into his throat. Then he stopped.

“FUCK!” the boy grunted, stepping to his feet in the dark. Mindi moaned softly on the bed. He could barely make out her outline in the dim light shining through the other room. Sean stumbled toward the nightstand and switched on the lamp. She was in horrible shape after the three clients that night had finished with her. Purple bruises covered the top of her arms from being dragged around. One of her eyes was black and blue. She’d been dressed in a crop top with no bra, and her panties had been torn, hanging by a string off her right leg. He dared not look at the rest. “I’m so sorry,” the boy cried, rubbing her cheek. “I’m gonna get you out of here, I swear! Just hold on, okay? I’ll get you something to wear.” Can’t take her outside like that. Sean went over to the dead man on the floor and proceeded to tear his pants off and took them over to Mindi, pulling them up over her.

“Wha...what’s going on?” she moaned, waking up. When her eyes fell to the boy, her mouth twisted in horror. “No...no...no, no, no, get off! GET OFF ME! GET OFF! Please get off me!” she cried, struggling against him.  

“Shhh, it’s okay, shhh, I’m not going to hurt you, I swear Mindi! Mindi, I swear...”

“Huh? Oh, I remember you,” she pointed. “...you’re that...that boy...from the bar...”

“Yeah...it’s me,” Sean choked up, taking her hand. Her other wrist was still tied to the bed. He reached over and unhooked the strap. “Can you get up?”

“Uh...I don’t know, what’s going....”

“Come on, I’ll help you stand, okay? Just here, put your arm around me and try to hold up those pants with your other hand. I got you, all right? Just hang onto me and don’t let go.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, sitting up and scooting toward the side of the bed. She tried standing, but her legs quickly gave out. “Ow!” she groaned. “I don’t think I can...”

“Yes you can, I got you.” Her wrapped his arm around his shoulder, and together, they stumbled toward the doorway. She gazed on the fallen corpses as they entered the next room.

“What...what did you do?” she asked. “Oh god!” she shrieked. Her arm started to slip off Sean, but he held her steady in his grasp, even as she cried. “No, let go!” Mindi screamed and fell to her hands and knees, the carnage making her sick. “Oh shit, I’m gonna...” She vomited on the floor. Good, Sean thought. Get some of that dope out of your system. “Can you please get me some water?” she gagged and threw up again.

“Yeah, hold on.” Sean darted for the bathroom and grabbed a clean glass, filling it and returning promptly. “Just be careful,” he said as he knelt with her, “I’ll hold it.” Mindi spat it out at first, but continued drinking.

“Ugh, my head feels like it’s gonna explode,” she breathed.

“I know. They fucked you up bad.” He snagged the car keys from the desk and pulled her back to her feet. “Think you can walk if you hold onto me?”

“I hope so,” she said, hoisting up the oversized jeans.

“Good. We have to get out of here, fast.”

“Sean...what the fuck happened? Where the fuck am I?”

“You’re at a motel.”

“Oh...is it my daddy’s place?”

“No,” Sean shuddered. “Come on, let’s get outside.” He led Mindi out through the door and across the balcony over to the stairs, where she grasped the railing behind him as they slowly descended and made their way over to the car. He opened the passenger side door of the SUV and helped her get her legs inside, then plopped into the driver’s seat. Sean glanced above them up at the vacant hotel room, its lights still on. He thought about going back to collect the guns and anything else he might have touched, but it was a good bet the cops would be arriving soon. Too late. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream again, but didn’t want to alarm the young woman beside him. She’d been through enough. Sean sighed and shifted the car into reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before anyone could see them.

Chapter Text

The highway ahead was a dark abyss. Very few people traversed the outskirt roads this late at night, save for tired workers heading home, people lost on vacation, delivery boys, the occasional ambulance, or...maybe online traveling journalists. The night and early morning hours had become Sean’s favorite time to drive, too. Or at least it used to be, before tonight. A shudder ran down his spine with each passing car. He prayed whatever lights were behind or in front of them wouldn’t start flashing. The boy leaned forward and concentrated on going the speed limit, staying alert. The adrenaline rush had certainly helped. So far, so good. Not that I know where we’re going. I guess anywhere. Fuck it. Fifteen straight minutes passed in silence before Mindi finally spoke.

“So where are we headed?”

“I don’t know,” Sean shrugged. A hospital. She needs to go to the hospital. But he knew if he took her, they’d ask too many questions. Cops would show up. The feds would get involved. He’d go to jail, probably for the rest of his life. He’d never see Daniel again. Way to be selfish, dude. But Gilberto will be after us, anyway. A place to hide and figure shit out first would be nice. “You said your dad owns a condo in Mexico City, right?”

“Yeah,” Mindi laid back, resting her head. “But that’s a whole day from here.”

“Actually...it’s not,” Sean sighed. “I’m sorry to tell you this. But we’re in Mexico City now.”

“Please tell me you’re fucking kidding!” she freaked.

“I’m not.”

“Jesus Christ Sean, what the fuck is going on?!”

“It’s my fault,” he choked. “Jesus, it’s all my fault! Look, I’m not who you think I am, Mindi! I work with a cartel. And they kidnapped you, and drugged you, and-”

“Just pull the fuck over,” she said. “Now!”

“I...can’t...” But Mindi grabbed the wheel. “Stop!”

“Pull over!” she shouted. Sean relented and slowly pumped the brakes, passing a speed limit sign and several mile markers before finally grounding to a halt. Mindi ripped off her seatbelt and tore out of the car, running off down the side slope where she hunched over and vomited again. Sean followed, but stood clear at the edge of the highway, leaning against the car to wait for her.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he banged on the door and paced around, huffing. “FUCK!” It was all over now. Everything. Everything he ever wanted or worked for over the past eight months, gone. Either he’d get caught by the cops, or he’d get caught by Gilberto. It was only a matter of who found him first. I’d give anything to be back in America right now, getting hunted by the feds. At least there, there was only one enemy to worry about. But in Mexico, he was truly trapped. Anywhere he went, someone would be watching. And after learning about what Catalina could do, he had to wonder if all of his actions up until this point had been predicted. Maybe...freeing Mindi is what he wanted me to do? Okay, think Sean. Mindi was coming back over. She still looked angry.

“Get back in the car, Sean,” she ordered.

“Mindi, listen, I-”

“Now.”

Sean obeyed and walked around the front of the vehicle back to the driver’s seat as the young girl took the passenger side and the two buckled back in. He resumed driving in silence, merging onto the highway once more. Back to the black abyss, back to the emptiness and hollow feelings, the glow of passing street lights, and all the thoughts that consumed. I murdered not two, but five men now. I have a body count. My name is one of the most wanted on both sides of the border, and I’m not even eighteen yet. Another ten minutes passed, then twenty. Soon enough, Mindi began to direct him as they drove past the suburban developments, then far into the city, where lights and traffic greeted them. She didn’t want to go to a hospital, she said. She just wanted to go back to her condo. There, she would wait for her friends, and when the month was over, her dad would be back in town. But the more she directed Sean, the more he realized they weren’t actually going anywhere.

“Okay,” the boy sighed, making a left turn onto a one-way street. “We’ve been driving around for an hour now. I know you’re just bullshitting me. Do you even have a condo?”

“Yes,” she said. “I was just waiting.”

“For what?”

“To see if you were going to murder me or something.”

“Jesus, is that what you think? I saved your life back there!”

“Yeah? You’re also the one who got me kidnapped, in case you forgot!”

“Believe me, I was trying to,” Sean breathed.

“I recognize you now, by the way. You’re that Sean Diaz kid, aren’t you? The guy that killed that cop in Seattle.”

Shit. He slammed on the brakes.

“I didn’t fucking kill him!”

“Hmm,” the girl smirked. “I knew it. Anyway...it’s about 1:30am. You should definitely get me back to my condo now. And don’t even think of speaking to me. It’s better you don’t.”

“Fine...I’m sorry-”

“Save it,” she muttered.

Sean shifted the car back into drive and continued on from the alley and back onto the main roads. Thoughts of fear and bewilderment entered his mind past every street, every light, and every oblivious cop car that crossed their path. Oddly enough, no one seemed to be following him. For several blocks, a member of the Polícia Federal trailed behind them, only to turn off onto a side street. And all the while, he kept glancing over at Mindi, wondering if she was okay, wondering how much she’d heard about him, why she didn’t want to go to a hospital, why she wasn’t perhaps in more distress. Who is her dad, anyway? How much power does she have? What’s going to happen to me after all this, now that she’s seen my face and knows who I am? But he didn’t talk. She didn’t want him to. And anyway, how could he?

He looked back at the speedometer. It was still hard to read things in kilometers, but they’d been going for at least fifty, maybe sixty miles around every angle of the city. Finally, they came upon the condominium, a large, high rise building with a fountain in the front courtyard. Mindi directed him over to a private parking garage. Once they found a spot, they exited the vehicle and she led him over to the main elevators. She glared at him for a moment as they waited for the ride, looking him up and down as she cradled her frail-looking body in the air-conditioned foyer. Right. Like I’m going to try anything. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sean immediately put his hood up upon entering in case there were any cameras watching them. Should have thought of this in the parking garage, dumbass. The doors closed and Mindi punched in her floor, even as she continued staring him down.

“Do you really have to do that?” he sighed.

“I’m just still surprised it’s you. Sorry. I’m somewhere between star-struck and pissed off, if that makes sense.”

“Star-struck?”

“This might sound weird, but you were kind of a celebrity in my house for awhile. My little sister wouldn’t shut the hell up about you every time your face hit the news.”

“Great,” Sean rolled his one good eye. “Just what I need. An army of heartthrob fangirls.”

“Relax. You’re not getting in trouble. At least not any more than you already were. You saved me, right?”

“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to?”

Mindi sighed as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

“That depends. On the one hand...yeah, you did the right thing, but-”

“I got you kidnapped, is that it?”

“No. I was actually going to say...you might really hate me after tonight.”

“You want to turn me in? Go ahead. I’ve got nothing else to fight for anyway.”

“Well...we’ll see.”

The pair continued down a long, lavish corridor filled with various paintings and plants alongside gold trimmed accents, illuminated by small chandeliers overhead. The red carpet beneath them seemed unnecessary, given the beautiful, perfectly polished marble floor. Sean’s heart was thudding in his chest as they made their way to the penthouse at the end of the hall. A feeling of dread overcame him. You’ll see? What the hell am I walking into? Mindi turned and glanced at the boy as she punched in the door code and a sliver of light flashed green. She looked sad, almost sorry. She’s not the one who needs to be. None of this was her fault. Something else was going on. It had to be.

Sean followed her through the door of the penthouse and closed it behind them. Before them stood a sprawling suite with a ritzy, minimalist layout. An electric fireplace burned bright orange across the right of the living room, which had a sunken area surrounded by couches in front of a long glass table. Directly in front of him was the dining area, with large windows overlooking the bright city below. An assortment of black bookcases lined the left rear of the room, serving a dual purpose as a barrier for a gaming room on the other side. As he walked through to the dining area, he saw a kitchen on the other side. Over to the far right stood a narrow hallway that led over to a corner office. Mindi stopped him before he could follow.

“Wait out here, okay? I’ll just be a minute.”

“Uh...okay.”

The boy sighed and turned toward the window, uncertain. For several minutes, he paced back and forth as he waited and watched, waited and watched. He checked the time on a large clock above the fireplace. 1:55am. Two hours since I killed those guys at the hotel. He wondered what might be going on at the crime scene. They definitely knew he’d stolen the car by now. They had to. Investigators were probably taking snapshots of the entire room. Laying tape around Jorgé and the others, collecting blood and hair samples. Bagging and tagging evidence. Lifting fingerprints. Examining bullet holes and gunshot wounds. Checking the clips. Going through his phone. They’ll definitely see I called the Reynolds. Then the FBI will be on my ass. Then they’ll extradite me. Sean took a seat at the dining room table and held his face in his hands. There would be no getting out of this now. No way.

He thought about Daniel, and if any of this would get back to him. What would he think of his big brother if he could see him now? You were never the monster. I was, for ever forcing you to come with me. All the times I left you alone to find work or food, all the times I was ever nasty to you, all the times I didn’t let you be the person you were growing into. I just wish I could tell him I don’t blame him for leaving me. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am. He deserves that on his birthday. So does Claire. So does Stephen. So does Chris, after I tore them apart. Then again, he wondered if any of it would bother them as much as where he was now—a member of a Mexican drug cartel, murdering people, kidnapping helpless victims, selling them into sex slavery. He’d rather die than have any of his family find out. He just hoped that one day, this would all be over, that he could see Daniel and Karen again. That one day...

Mindi finally emerged from the hallway in a beautiful black cocktail dress with slivers of red sequins and swirling lines that wrapped from the chest around the back and over again, accentuating her perfect figure. Her hair was styled in the same way it had been a week and half ago, when they’d first met at Club Saturno. Her makeup was similar, though with subtle smoky eye shadow and a darker shade of red lipstick. Sean approached her and looked over her pale face in the light. The black eye and swelling she’d had seemed to be completely gone, along with any signs of bruising on her arms, over her chest, or around her legs. She looked perfect. Smooth. Undamaged. Untouched. Like nothing whatsoever had happened to her. Like she hadn’t just suffered through a week and a half of being assaulted. And in her hands, she clutched a large black cloth bag, weighed down by something.

“What the...fuck?” Sean breathed, looking her over.

“Congratulations,” the girl smiled. “You passed the test.”

“No...no way.” He backed away in disbelief. “No fucking WAY!”

“Told you you’d hate me. But we all have our parts to play, right?”

“That’s BULLSHIT!”

“Sean...I had to know I could trust you until we got to the door. Plus my dad’s got debts to pay off. So take it. Half goes to you, the other half to the cartel.”

“Oh fuck this!” he snapped, smacking the bag out of her hand. Stacks of hundreds fell across the floor. “This is why you had me drive around, wasn’t it?”

“There was a drop-off in our safe at 1:30. Yeah.”

“But I saved you! I thought I-”

“You did, Sean. Just not in the way you think. And you were right. Snatching up a high-profile, pseudo-heiress like me? Not the best idea. But my family plays a little...dirty. Jorgé worked for us as much as he worked for the cartel. They’ll be glad he’s not a problem anymore. Frankly, so are we. He helped us fuck them out of a few million in real estate,” she smirked. “Then we caught him pocketing some of our money, too. So my dad’s been selling shares and liquidating assets to pay things off. Just another...million or so that needs to go to some other unsavory characters overseas.”

“Whoa,” Sean caught his breath. “Guess we’re all slaves to someone, huh?”

“Except you.”

“What?”

“That money,” she said, looking at the bag. “It’s your freedom.”

“You said half is for me, half is for the cartel...”

“Yeah. The half that goes to the cartel is enough to pay for our debts, plus your severance. And the other?” she shrugged. “Build yourself a new life, Sean Diaz. You’ve earned it.”

“I’m still lost.”

“Gilberto wasn’t going to get his hands on me, no matter how hard he tried. And Jorgé couldn’t be trusted because he caught him working for us. So we let him kidnap me to fool them both. That way, Gilberto would think he won, and Jorgé would believe he could ask for my ransom.”

“You manipulated me into killing Jorgé?! That’s messed up! And what about you being sold out?”

“He plied me with some low-dose sedatives. Our other guys in the room took care of me, threw some horror makeup on, and refunded whatever clients came in through Jorgé. The rest, I had to sell to you both with my acting skills. Finally got to use all my classes for something...sorry. But let’s be real Sean, he would’ve double-crossed you the first chance he got just to get back in Gilberto’s good graces.”

“So the hotel room...what happens to that? What happens to me?”

“Don’t worry, my dad’s got people scrubbing it as we speak. It’ll be like you were never there. Like I said, you’re free. And Gilberto will love you to death for getting my ransom and taking care of the traitor. Anyways, you want to shut up now and take the money? I’ve got a plane to catch and a British accent to practice. Have to disappear for awhile. The car you drove here is getting torched by the way, but there’s a fresh-ass Mercedes the valet’s bringing up with your name on it.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you knew I’d kill Jorgé.”

“I didn’t. But my dad would’ve had to pay my ransom either way. You just happened to make it a little easier on us. As for those henchmen of his, they were paid off from the beginning. Expendable, but hey, that’s the ‘cost of doing business,’ as ole’ Gilly likes to say. It was a pretty airtight plan.”

“This is still a mindfuck,” Sean sighed.

“What can I say? Life is pretty damn strange. For what it’s worth, I hope we see each other again. You were my ticket out of here, and now I guess I’m yours. Sorry if I kinda wrecked your whole bad boy savior complex. I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. But hey, maybe when you’re a legal boy, we can party it up in Berlin, or...wherever. Stay cute,” she smiled and kissed his cheek, then headed for the door.

“Hey, uh...any chance you could maybe...smuggle me back to America?”

“Sorry, no can do. But you’ve got money now, right? Figure it out yourself. Besides, buying someone’s way out of a cartel is hard enough. My suggestion though? Get yourself a bangin’ beach house in Cancún! Spring break is the perfect time of year for it. Oh, and don’t forget your Benz. Should be down there in like, five minutes. The door will lock when you leave. Adiós!”

“Thank you...so much. Have a safe flight,” the boy waved.

"Welcome. See you around the galaxy."

Once the door had closed behind her, Sean gazed back at the fat stacks of hundreds, bewildered. What the hell just happened? But it didn’t matter. Because somehow, through some miracle, he’d just struck gold. He ruffled through the bag for the next several minutes to be sure nothing was counterfeit. All of it was real. Every single bill. He found himself tearing up at the sight, thinking back on all his struggles over the past year. Getting screwed over by Merrill, having the shit kicked out of him so many times, all those months of scrounging and scraping and saving every penny. This felt like vindication. This was the due karma he was owed. Finally, he would be free. Not struggling, but actually...free. He smiled as he dreamed about that beach house in Cancún, and an old friend came to mind.

Hope you’re still out there, Finn. I’ll be waiting with your coconut cocktails.      

Chapter Text

Summer was just around the corner for the students of Beaver Creek Middle School, but a fever rush had already infected them all with a permeable excitement that hung in the air. Outside, the sun shone blinding bright in the midday sky as the school bus descended fast down a long, winding road and came through a heavily forested area. Fresh wind tore through the interior, thanks to all the windows having been opened by the kids the moment they’d got on. Crumpled papers and spit wads flew to and fro as everyone screamed, shouted, laughed, fought, or switched seats. Amid all the chaos and scenery flying by, Daniel and Chris sat together in their favorite seat sharing earbuds, blissfully ignorant as they happily swayed along to their favorite song.

“Your favorite band is from my hometown,” they sang together. “That’s what you told me that night! You like the way I wear my hair down,” Daniel giggled, ruffling his friend’s red-streaked strands. “I never thought that it looked that nice! And even on the days that feel a little colder, and even if forever gives up...”

“You can pull away but that just pulls me closer,” Chris sang, invading his friend’s personal space. “‘Cause I know I like the rush!”

They continued together for the chorus, raising their arms in the air.

“You make it better when I’m feeling alone! You keep my head on when I’m out of control! And when your friends all tell you ‘don’t get involved’,” Chris pointed, “I’ll still be sleeping in your oversized clothes, hey!”

“Hey fags, shut up!” a voice yelled. Several paper wads came flying in their direction. Daniel managed to stop one mid-air in front of his friend’s face, but Chris quickly tore it down and tossed it aside before anyone noticed.

“Come on dude, are you crazy?!” he whispered, ripping out the earbud. “Or did you completely forget what happened at the bridge last year?”

“Oh, you mean when I saved everybody’s lives? You’re welcome,” he frowned, putting his iPhone away. “It’s not like I’m showing off! I’m just trying to protect you, Chris.”

“Yeah, I know,” the boy sighed, putting an arm around him and resting his head on his shoulder. “I’m really glad you do. Just...I worry about you being caught, man. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” Daniel assured him, leaning his head back on Chris’s. “Ever.” More paper wads hit them, along with more homophobic slurs being shouted. “You know...the road’s bumpy up ahead,” the boy thought aloud. “How cool would it be if I just levitated everyone for a second? Bet they wouldn’t even notice,” he smirked.

“Stop!” Chris laughed, taking his arm back and shoving his overly mischievous friend aside. He didn’t want to, of course. All he wanted was to keep Daniel close to him, to cuddle with him forever, to show him how much he loved him, and maybe...other things. But he knew he had to be more reserved. Both because he feared people finding out his own secret, and also because over the past year, he’d seen a change in his friend he didn’t really like.

All of it came down to the fact Chris had been bullied in the past by Jun Li, who Daniel still insisted on keeping around for whatever reason. And for his thirteenth birthday, the Reynolds had given him his own phone and a new laptop, which meant he was more into gaming with Jun and Lucas. Wish dad could afford to get me my own computer too, Chris thought with a sigh, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He’d had it dyed for the first time a few months prior as his own way of keeping Captain Spirit alive. Most of the boys made fun of him for it, but he didn’t care. At least the girls liked it. Too bad I’m not really into girls.

As the school bus came up on the pothole-laden stretch of road, Daniel turned to him with a sly grin. Chris just rolled his eyes and shook his head, hugging his backpack tight as they endured the bumps. After having made the dangerously public display of saving their school bus from crashing into a lake the previous year—and receiving much unwanted attention from the feds—he failed to understand how his friend could still be so nonchalant about the use of his powers.  

“You’re no fun, dude. What’s your problem, anyway?”

“Nothing,” the blond boy said, looking away. Daniel didn’t back down.

“I noticed you don’t want me to come over as much anymore, either. And we have most of the same classes, so I know you lied about having too much homework all those times.”

“It’s just you seem to have more fun with Jun and Lucas. You bailed on me last Saturday to sit around gaming when I wanted to fix up the tree house.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I totally forgot we planned this campaign on Fortnite. And I know you don’t like Jun, but he’s the best on our team, that’s the only reason he’s there. Even Natalie was on, and we never get to play with her!”

“Yet you still hang with him.”

“Only when her and Luke are around! Don’t be so emo. I have to keep the peace, you know?”

“He bullied me last year, Daniel! Stole my clothes in gym class, I had to walk with a towel down the entire hallway until the basketball coach gave me some old uniform to wear. People laughed at me.” His throat felt broken. Tears were beginning to blur his vision. He turned away, using his backpack as a pillow. I can’t let him see me like this. Why do I always get so weak around him? But Daniel seemed shocked at the revelation.

“Chris, why didn’t you ever tell me that? You know I would’ve dealt with him.”

“Yeah, exactly!” the boy eyed him directly. “Might as well have the feds on speed dial. Besides, you’ve been getting along so well with everyone lately, like you’re Mr. Popular or something-”

“I’m not popular!” Daniel cut him off. “I don’t know where you get that.”

“Oh please, like you didn’t notice Liz crushing on you either when you got paired up for Bio lab? Whatever. I guess I just didn’t want to break up your friendship with Jun, or make you feel like you had to protect me. It’s too much of a risk to you.”

“Okay first of all, I don’t like Liz like that,” he defended. “I’m just nice to people when they’re nice to me. And you know I’ll always want to protect you, dude! I don’t care about the risk, because it’s not about me. I’d much rather get caught or lose a friend than let anyone hurt you,” the boy sunk back. “Now I’m just pissed. Jun’s definitely off our team.”

Chris thought about bringing up the point that his getting caught would emotionally devastate him too, but thought better of it. For now, he gazed at Daniel’s soft hands as his friend looked absently out the window. He needed his touch. And his comfort. More than anything, he wanted to hold those sun-kissed beauties, to intertwine their slender fingers and let all the negative thoughts slip away. Should I? The boy opened his grasp subtly and focused on the feeling, as if he, too, could telepathically call something forth by the powers of his mind alone. Then he remembered he couldn’t. Captain Spirit wasn’t real. I better not. Still, Daniel seemed to sense it and looked back on his friend with a tender expression, finally resting his hand on top of the pale boy’s in solidarity.           

“Are we cool? I hate fighting with you. And I swear I’ll spend the whole summer with you, okay? Maybe we could check out that new comic shop this weekend for Free Comic Book Day. We could get Power Bear, or the new Hawt Dawg Man,” he grinned.

“Yeah...I’d like that. I'm sorry. We’re cool,” Chris replied, managing a half-smile. “Hey, once we get the tree house reinforced, maybe we can have sleepovers in it again.”

“Dude, that’ll be awesome!” Daniel smiled.

“I’ll just make sure to put a new tarp over it so we don’t get rained out again. Remember last time?”

“Oh god, that was the worst night ever,” the boy sighed.

“I know. But you had some good ghost stories. Wasn’t all bad.”  

“Yeah it was! My underwear got totally soaked .”

“Mine didn’t. We were in thick sleeping bags, how did your underwear get...wait, did you piss yourself?”

“No, Chris! I just...never mind. I had a dream. That’s all.”

“A dream? Oh...OH shit, you mean...ahaha, seriously?!” the boy chuckled.

“Shut up!” he punched him in the arm. “You better not tell anyone. It’s hard enough-”

“Bet it is,” Chris giggled.

“UGH, I’m never telling you anything ever again!” Daniel said, burying his head.

“Chill, no worries,” Chris assured him. “Your secret’s safe with me, Super Wolf. Anyway, it’s kind of a mess up there, so we could use some new wood in that tree house.”

Both of them looked at each other as they realized the unintentional pun he had made, and burst out in hysterical fits. Chris secretly lived for days like this. Days when they could both laugh together. When they could experience closeness. When nothing could stop them, when they felt altogether infinite in each other’s company. It made him feel more alive than anything else. And that’s what also scared him to death. Because the closer he got to his friend, the more he feared something might tear them apart, like a car speeding mercilessly toward that illusive intersection of Mantle Street and Asteroid Drive. For it was in those most quiet moments that it seemed the voice of his immortal enemy screamed loudest inside him.

As the school bus at last came upon their stop on Evergreen, the two young boys gathered their belongings and plodded off the bus, still laughing and teasing one another. Chris never wanted their time to end, but his dad would insist his homework took priority for the weekend. Claire was much the same way, from what he could tell, and Daniel would be forced to surrender his electronics until it was finished. In a way though, that could be a good thing. Maybe he’ll think of me more.

“Oh shit!” Daniel gasped as they got to Chris’s property, looking on toward the Reynolds’ house.

“What is it?”

“Look who’s in the driveway,” he nodded ahead. A black SUV was parked behind his grandparents’ silver Lexus in their driveway. Feds. “They haven't visited me in over a year."

"Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

"Of course not! Chris,” the boy said, turning back, “can I please come inside for a couple hours?”

Chris sighed. He wanted nothing more. And yet despite the wave of fear gripping him tight in the chest, he knew that whatever they wanted with Daniel, they certainly weren’t about to leave until they at least spoke with him. Besides that, he had his own home struggles to deal with.

“I don’t know, man...” he said, nervously thumbing the straps of his backpack. “My dad would raise a fit. Not when you’re there, obviously, but. He’s gonna want me to start my homework. Plus I doubt they’re just going to leave.”

“I could hide out in the tree house,” Daniel pointed out. “I wouldn’t even bother you, Chris. Come on, pleeeaassee.”

He really hated when his friend stuck his lower lip out and made that noise, widening those deep brown puppydog eyes of his that made him even cuter and more irresistible than he already was. It made it that much harder to deny him. But Chris sensed there was no getting out of it.

“Dude," he sighed, "you better just go see what they want.”

“Yeah...I guess you’re right.” Daniel kicked at the gravel with his foot. “Fuck.” God, it hurts so bad to see him like this, Chris thought.

“Look, if anything happens, you just run and come knock on my window, all right? I’ll be in my room the rest of the day.”

“Thanks man. Ugh. I’ll keep you posted and give you a call, if anything. Love you dude,” his friend said, embracing him.

“Love you too. Stay safe.”

As the boys parted ways across their separate yards, Chris hoped Daniel knew just how much those words meant to him. He did his best to walk off the tension, but nothing could stop the flood of thoughts and possible outcomes circulating in his fragile mind now. The fear of more loss in his life was always an ever present shadow, never mind the fact that his dad had recently returned to his alcoholic tendencies—something Daniel had yet to discover, and was also the real reason behind why he'd canceled their plans more often. What would happen as he walked through the door? More shouting, more accusations, more comments on how useless he was? And what about Daniel? What would he be facing?

Chris backed away from the door and instead headed for his tree house, where he felt safe. Where he could forget his troubles. Where no one would bother him.

And most importantly, where he could keep watch over the Reynolds’ house, in case Daniel came running.

Chapter Text

Daniel froze as he stood on the front doorstep and planted his feet. His gaze darted from the brass knob to the SUV and back again several times, terrified at the prospect of his first visit for the year. What the hell do they want this time? Their previous encounter, he remembered, had been a substantially unpleasant experience for the entire family. After the bus incident—and worse, a cascade of amateur videos, one of which had garnered over a million likes on ViewTube—they had threatened him with much tighter restrictions and banned him from leaving the town of Beaver Creek for a three-month period. At that point, Claire had stood up for him, though expressed she felt punishment was still necessary for being careless. To that end, she grounded him for two months. No phone, no internet use, no secular music, and worst of all, they’d made him attend church every Sunday. During the first three services, he had run out of the sanctuary in tears after experiencing flashbacks to Haven Point.

His hand hovered shakily over the doorknob. Lucky would be bounding up the moment he walked in, probably followed by Claire’s shouting and Stephen’s futile attempts to talk her down. But I haven’t even done anything wrong this time. He considered the possibility, too, that they could be showing up with fresh leads on Sean. It had been nearly three years with no word from him, though that wasn’t too surprising, given that anything un-businesslike in their incoming and outgoing mail was still filtered through the FBI to ensure they weren’t in contact. Prior to the scheduled visits in 2017, he’d even seen people digging through their trash in the middle of the night as well. Paranoid freaks.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, pushing the door open and stepping into the entryway. As expected, his dog came rushing down the steps to greet him. “Hey Lucky! How you doing, girl?” She barked happily and nuzzled him. “You protecting the house from dangerous intruders, huh? Are you being a good girl and tearing their ugly throats out?”

“Daniel!” Claire scolded him from the dining room doorway.

“WHAT Grandma?!” he snapped, rolling his eyes. “Not like you want to deal with them either!”

“Now there’s no need for that outburst, you don’t even know who’s here!” she crossed her arms. “So apologize right this instant, young man!”

“Fine,” he sighed, petting the dog. “Sorry for overreacting. Just not exactly excited.”

“Not even to see an old friend?” an accented female voice spoke. Daniel’s eyes went wide as he looked up, surprised to see a familiar face awaiting him in the dining room.

“Agent Flores!” he exclaimed happily, rushing into her arms as Lucky barked.

“Hola, hijo!” she smiled.

“Oh my god, it’s great to see you again! But...wait,” he let go, looking her over. A white floral dress had since replaced the pantsuit he’d last seen her in several years prior. Her hair was down as well, now worn in straight, flowing dark curls that cascaded over her shoulders. “Is that really you? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Well, it’s a long story, but...let’s just say I’m not exactly ‘Agent’ Flores anymore.”

“Really?”

“It’s true. You can call me Maria, if you’d like.”

“Well...Maria...you still look good! If that’s okay to say. Actually, you look a lot better like that.”

“Thank you! And hopefully less intimidating without the badge,” she chuckled, winking at Claire. “You look like you’ve grown up a lot yourself.”

“I guess. Just hate being short, so. Not as fast I want to.”

“And thank Heaven for that!” Claire quipped.

“Oh don’t worry, you have all the time in the world,” Flores smiled. “By the way, I’m sorry I was unable to do your visits. I could pull a lot of strings, but that decision was not up to me. So I do hope they treated you with respect.”

“Eh...sort of.”

“Oh boy,” Claire sighed, shaking her head as she sat at the table, petting Lucky. “It wasn’t easy, let’s put it that way.”

“I also heard what happened with the bus last year. I was proud of you, Daniel,” Flores said, taking a seat across from Claire as the boy sat at the head.

“Thanks!”

“Of course, when Parker told me they wanted to up the restrictions, neither of us were happy. The videos circulating seemed easily dismissible to us as an editing job. As you can imagine, he gave them quite an earful after that visit.”

“So did I,” Claire remarked. “But we pulled through it, all things considered. I’m sorry for grounding you, sweetie,” she said regretfully, taking Daniel’s hand. “I suppose I was just stressed from everything going on. I still am, in a lot of ways.”

“It’s okay, Grandma. I forgive you.”

“This has been a learning process for us all, no doubt.”

“I can imagine,” Flores said, sipping her cup of tea Claire had placed out earlier.

“So what made you leave the FBI?” Daniel asked.

“Ah, where to start?” the woman looked upward in thought. “Well...after meeting you and your brother, I went through a personal reckoning of sorts. And it wasn’t just you, but a long list of escalating things. People I encountered, places I went. I’m sure you’ve heard of the immigrant detention centers down near the border.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said sadly. “We talked about them in Social Studies. So fucked up.”

“Daniel, language!” his grandmother scolded.

“Sorry. I have a right to be angry, ya know.”

“I finally saw them in person,” Maria continued. “They’re even worse up close. To the point I had to leave the floor for the restroom. It made me sick to my stomach, the things I saw there.  People were treated like animals. With no human dignity, no legal representation, no...voice. And with everything happening in this country over the past four years? All the hatred, the racism, the police brutality, the ugly politics of it all preaching ‘law and order’. I wanted no further part of that system in any way, shape, or form. It just wasn’t who I was, or who I ever wanted to be. And continuing to associate myself with that would only lead to further pain. No more,” she shook her head. “Just...no more.”

“Oh, I think we’ve been through some personal reckonings as well, believe me,” Claire admitted. “Stephen and I had always been on the more conservative side of things, until our grandsons came back into our lives. After Esteban had gained custody, we didn’t expect to see them ever again. We just felt...broken for a lot of reasons, our daughter being the first. She had done everything a child could do wrong in our eyes. Including, well...Esteban. We came to resent him, too. But in our pain, we never considered how much we’d pushed Karen away in the first place. Or the mark her absence had left on that poor man, until the boys showed up, hungry and desperate. And then, of course with them being...”

“Mexican?” Daniel finished.

“Yes,” Claire said. “After spending some time with you both, the situation shifted our perspective. I felt terrible for the way I acted,” she squeezed his hand. “Not many families in America are like ours, after all. It’s easy to develop ignorant habits when you come from a family of racists. My parents were certainly proud ones, there’s no sugarcoating that. I’m just ashamed I took after it for so long, how it affected the way I saw things. I didn’t want to be a part of that either. So Stephen and I, we took a lot of time over the past two years educating ourselves, for Daniel’s sake. Of course, our friends at church weren’t so thrilled to learn of our new party affiliation. But if they want my award-winning casserole at the monthly potlucks, they’ll keep their mouths shut about politics,” she chuckled.

“People like you give me hope for the world, Mrs. Reynolds,” Maria smiled.

“It’s so nice of you to come by and check in on us,” Claire nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for our family.”

“I’m just glad that something good came out of doing my job. We rarely got as many happy endings as I would have liked in the course of things, but. I always felt much better about myself when we did.”

“So, Maria,” Daniel chimed in. It still felt odd to be using her first name. “How’s Agent Parker doing?”

“He’s doing...not the best,” she sighed. “He recently discovered through some old records and DNA evidence that his brother who went missing years ago was killed at the time. They held a short memorial service, so I went. He’s in bad shape. But still surviving, as we all do.”

“Aw, man...that really sucks,” the boy sunk his head sadly. “He’d said I gave him hope and everything.”

“Trust me, you did,” she took his hand. “I think that, like me, he felt he could at least rest a bit easier knowing he could give someone else their happiness.”

“If you see him again...could you tell him I’m sorry for his loss?”

“You have my word,” Flores assured him. “In the meantime, I was wondering if I might be able to spend a bit of time talking with you privately today? I’d just like to go on a drive for about an hour or so, maybe have a walk to stretch our legs. If it’s all right with Claire, of course.”

“Sure!”

“Oh, that’d be perfectly fine,” his grandmother nodded, standing from the table. “I’ve got some house cleaning and supper to prepare anyway. Just make sure you start on that homework the moment you get back, okay kiddo?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel rolled his eyes. “Ooh Maria, is it okay if Lucky comes with us too? She loves car rides!”

“I don’t see why not,” the woman smiled, getting up from her seat as Claire brought her white jacket over. “Thank you, Claire,” she hugged her. “We won’t be long.”

“Have fun, you two.”

As they left and closed the front door behind them, Daniel looked somewhat nervously over at the Eriksens’ house. He hoped Chris knew that he was doing okay, that things weren’t at all as bad as they’d initially feared. What if he calls while I’m away? He thought about going back inside to give his grandmother a heads up, though she’d probably take a message for him anyway. Still, it seemed rather odd that Flores had shown up at random. Wonder what she wants with me. He shrugged it off as he secured Lucky in the back seat and took the passenger side. Once they’d backed out of the driveway, his eyes fell to a stack of manila folders buried in the compartment of the door. The top one bore a label with a name in red ink. Sean Diaz.

*          *          *

Chris licked his dry lips and caught his breath upon the descent back to reality, relishing the waning moments of lightheadedness before opening his eyes. Far above him, a quiet procession of pillow-like clouds floated by over the treetops. They merged together and reformed in the quiet of his mind, coagulating in and out of wolf-like shapes, Noctarious spawn, Fire Queens, and Snowmancers. So many drawing ideas. The boy let out a tired yawn and listened to the birds as they faded back into the foreground. A cool breeze blew over his nether regions, at which point he remembered what he’d been doing. Strange as it felt to be pleasuring himself in the tree house, it had become something of an after-school ritual for him to release tension. Especially after thinking of Daniel all day...ugh, just stop. Chris reached down to pull his jeans back up. In the process, his right hand brushed over a puddle of something wet on his smooth stomach.

“Whoa...that’s new,” he breathed, resting an arm on his knee as he sat upright to examine the sticky substance on his thumb. “Gross. Ouch!” he winced. A sharp pain shot down his right side. He raised his shirt to check. Sure enough, the previous night’s battle at home had left a sizable black and blue mark just under his ribs. With all the fun he’d had on the bus with Daniel that day, it was easy to power through the pain enough to forget it was even there. Thanks, Dad. Wiping his fingers off on his jeans, he reached over for the pack of cigarettes and the lighter he kept hidden in a secret stash box. Stealing his father’s smokes was a risky business, but the man was too smashed most of the time to notice. Audra typically threw them out on the rare occasions she visited, anyway. The last time had been a month ago. Damn, he's been on a bender for this long? No wonder she doesn't come over.

Chris rose to his feet and put the cigarette to his lips to light up, resting his elbows over the wooden rail of the tree house while he gazed on toward the Reynolds' property. The black SUV was still parked in its place. He inhaled, held it a moment, then blew out the savory smoke. A rush of relaxation overcame him, the second nicest feeling he looked forward to after every long school day. Just then, a movement caught his eye in the distance. He bolted back to his shelf for the binoculars and peered over the driveway again. Daniel seemed to be heading off into the SUV with Lucky, and an attractive older woman who got in the front driver’s seat. What the hell's going on?

A loud bang and a clanging noise came from inside his house, followed by shouting.

“Stupid drunk motherfucker,” he sighed, scraping off the butte of his cigarette to save it for later. Guess I should see what it is this time. “The party never stops at Chris Eriksen’s house.”

*          *          *

Daniel leaned back and dangled his legs over the edge of the cliff at Overlook Point, relishing the bird’s eye view of Beaver Creek while propped up on his arms with Lucky beside him. She had happily since devoured what was left of the ice cream he’d finished. Flores sat to his left with a stack of folders on her lap, picking at the remains of her butter pecan. It didn’t take long for him to realize why they’d driven to the outskirts of town. Neither of them had spoken a word about it yet, opting for small talk instead, but the boy was finding it difficult to withhold his excitement. After what seemed like an eternity, Maria at last set down her ice cream.

“So,” she said. “I’m sorry to have dragged you all the way out here, but I’m sure you understand the necessity. I do appreciate you not reaching for these when we were in the car, by the way.”

“Yeah...too many eyes on me. I get it.”

“The full extent of the Bureau’s surveillance on you and your family has been...dishonest,” Maria said with a grim expression. “But I’m sure you're smart enough to know that.”

“I’ve seen a lot more black cars on the roads since last year,” Daniel admitted, hunching forward to rest his arms in his lap. “Makes me nervous.”

“Trust me, I know,” she nodded. “They’ve been keeping tabs on me like a hawk ever since I left. For the most part, you’re better off just doing your best to ignore it. Keep your head down and your eyes forward. Don’t raise any red flags or do anything suspicious. Easier said than done for a boy of your age, I’m sure. But you cannot afford to be careless.”

“I know. Can I see what’s in the folders now?”

“Yes. But first,” she said, pulling up her dress to the thigh to reveal a walkie strapped to the inner part of her leg, “I just need to do one final check.” Flores unhooked the small device and switched it on, holding it to her mouth. She hit the send button, cutting off the static with a beep. “Are we still out of the woods, Agent Michaels?” They waited a few moments. Nothing. “Agent Michaels, you there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” a voice replied clearly. “Thought I was being followed for a sec. Mountain road is all clear. No noise on any of the usual channels, but I’ll let you know. Probably a few more minutes before they hijack this one. You manage to get that bug off my car yet?”

“Not yet,” Flores sighed. “But you know how stupid that would be after we fucked with the GPS tracker. Can I get a location?”

“Yeah...still shows you around the lakeside area.”

“Shit, what’s he doing?” the woman whispered before continuing. “I hope you explained to him where he needs to go! We paid him well enough for it, so he’d better deliver. And if he tries to pawn that thing like he seems to have done with other stolen tech on Craigslist-”

“Relax, he’s back on the move. And staying well enough away from the mountain roads. He’s headed for the hotel, looks like. You’re all good.”

“All right, just keep me posted.”

“You got it, boss lady.”

Maria set the walkie aside and began nervously shuffling through the manila folders.

“Don’t do anything suspicious, huh?” Daniel quipped with a mischievous grin.

“Shut up,” the woman huffed. “You can take the work away from the girl, but never the girl away from the work. Subversive tactics and secret documents were always a hobby of mine. Of course I never stole or copied anything, just...borrowed without asking. I’ve got one hell of a good memory. Hopefully so do you, because we don’t have much time. Ah, here we are,” she said, thumbing through the appropriate papers to lay a file on top. “But before I show you...I don’t think I need to remind you that not a word of this leaves these cliffs.” The boy nodded. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I hope so.”

“That’s not good enough," Flores frowned. "I risked my job for you once. This time, it’s my life.”

“Then I guess I have to be.”

“Good. Now take a deep breath, because you're not going to like what you see.” She handed over the pile of documents. Each set of papers seemed to be a file on a different person, with stacks clipped together along with sticky notes and associated photographs. Daniel gasped at the top one.

“Project Havenwolf...a preemptive case study on the impact of nature vs. nurture in regards to second generation immigrants...Reynolds, Karen Elizabeth...what is this?! I thought this was about Sean!”

“Keep reading. And make it quick,” Flores urged.

CLASSIFIED, PRIORITY ONE. ALL MATERIALS HEREIN ARE THE EXCLUSIVE PROPERTY OF THE U.S. CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY. ANY ATTEMPT TO VIEW, DISCLOSE, TRANSMIT, STORE IN AN OUTSIDE RETRIEVAL SYSTEM (“CLOUD”), OR OTHERWISE COPY THIS REPORT, IN WHOLE OR IN PART, BARRING REQUIREMENT OF SCHEDULE ONE CLEARANCE, WILL BE TREATED AS A FEDERAL OFFENSE SUBJECT TO PROSECUTION PURSUANT TO 18 U.S. CODE § 798 – DISCLOSURE OF CLASSIFIED INFORMATION.

REYNOLDS, KAREN ELIZABETH

DOB: 4/8/1980

RECRUITED: 6/18/1996

SUMMARY REPORT

10/3/1999 – Subject compensated in the amount of $30,000 USD for involvement in PROJECT HAVENWOLF. Non-disclosure agreement signed and on file (see page 3).

10/31/1999 – Conception of subject’s first child reported. Fetal development studies have been mandated, though do not constitute a reporting requirement at this juncture.

8/15/2000 – Subject has birthed their first infant without incident, a healthy male henceforth known as SEAN EDUARDO DIAZ. The male child remains unremarkable. Further reports, barring suspected legal incursions by the child, should be omitted from the project record in the interests of maintaining clarity in conjunction with aforementioned goals.

7/4/2006 – Conception of subject’s second child reported. Fetal development studies heavily mandated. Monthly reports required up to the successful birth of the child for continued project involvement. Failure to produce these reports, as discussed with the subject in their non-disclosure agreement, will result in termination of all subjects involved.

7/10/2006 – First attempt at re-implantation of genetically modified human embryo successful.

4/11/2007 – Subject has birthed their second infant without incident, a healthy male henceforth known as DANIEL FELIPÉ DIAZ. All required reports have been submitted, satisfying SECTION I of the subject’s contract. The male child remains unremarkable, though that is expected at this juncture. Further reports, to be submitted annually by the subject for a period of no less than ten years, will presumably satisfy their contract in full.

9/20/2009 – CONTRACT VIOLATION – FAILURE TO COMPLY*: Subject has willfully severed ties with their immediate family citing personal differences, in direct violation of SECTION II of the agreement. *AMENDED - Noting the subject’s prior observed mental state, as well as the opportunities such a unique familial situation provides, it is highly suggested that PROJECT HAVENWOLF be upgraded for the purposes of enhanced discreet field studies regarding the experiment known as DANIEL FELIPÉ DIAZ.

10/28/2016 – URGENT SITUATIONAL UPDATE*: A critical incident was reported by the SEATTLE POLICE DEPARTMENT at the residence of 1452 LEWIS AVE. SEATTLE, WA resulting in the death of the subject’s former spouse, ESTEBAN ALEJANDRO DIAZ. Confrontational tactics employed by law enforcement also culminated in the death of Seattle Officer KINDRED JACKSON MATTHEWS.
*AMENDED - Experimental embryonic gene modification of DANIEL FELIPÉ DIAZ has manifested with vastly unexpected results, the implications of which far outweigh anything initially intended by PROJECT HAVENWOLF. Distant observational tactics to be employed IMMEDIATELY to ensure the subject’s first-born, SEAN EDUARDO DIAZ, behaves in a nurturing manner as expected.

7/4/2017 – PROJECT HAVENWOLF SUSPENDED INDEFINITELY. FAILURE TO ACHIEVE EXPECTED RESULTS; NUMEROUS HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATIONS CITED.

ALL MATERIALS AND DATA HEREIN ARE TO BE DESTROYED EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.

The earth shook around them, and Daniel with it. Stones and debris lifted into the air around them as Lucky whimpered and fled back to the car. He felt it again, the bad thing, the quaking in his bones. The file floated upward from his grasp and tore apart. Folders, papers, photographs, and paperclips suddenly separated and began swirling in a slow cyclone around the furious child to encircle him and the former federal agent as he glared at her with eyes like burning embers. Harsh gusts of wind kicked up over the length of the exposed cliff, ruffling his hair in the breeze.

“It’s not true...” he cried. “What did they DO to me?!”

“Daniel, I’m so sorry!” Flores said sadly, reaching out to him. The boy backed away.

“DON'T TOUCH ME!” he shouted. “I thought you were my friend...”

“I am! That’s why I showed you, you deserved to know the truth!”

“The truth? Were YOU involved in this?!” Daniel raged, throwing up his hand. Her body catapulted upright into the air as he began to choke her, the tips of her toes scraping frantically over the dust-ridden ground.

“S-Stop...please...” she grasped at her throat. “I can...I can tell you more!”

The boy grunted and abandoned his vice grip on Flores, allowing his focus to retreat, though the residual anger kept vibrating its mantra deep in his bones. Maria fell to the ground on her hands and knees, heaving for air. The cyclone stopped. Papers and dust cascaded around them like New Year’s confetti, trashing the immediate landscape. Daniel stepped toward her with renewed caution. He couldn’t trust her anymore. He couldn’t trust his own mother. Or the Reynolds, Sean, or even his best friend Chris. Why does everyone have to lie to me? I’m so sick of it! Flores cowered as he approached, his expression still twisted in a menacing glare. He clenched his teeth as he hovered over her, waiting until she collected herself.

“I swear to you, I was never involved!” she cried, wiping tears from her eyes. “I didn’t even know the people who were.”

“And what did they do?” Daniel huffed like a hungry wolf staring down its prey. “What were the real goals of this...project?”

Flores took a deep breath before answering.

“They wanted to see what really shapes the personal identity of immigrants over generations. Whether it’s...nature or nurture that would dictate their behavior and cultural understanding. The goals seemed pure at first, but devolved into a racist sociological study meant to more easily uncover those with criminal dispositions. Not that they told any of that to their test subjects, of course. They recruited lower-income white women in interracial relationships and paid them off to study their children. Then, they began messing with gene sequencing to enhance or negate specific traits related to intelligence and tribalism. Older siblings were an important control factor in the experiment, as most are nurturing and the first to attempt cultural assimilation. The younger would represent a return to nature. I believe one of the words used in their final report was ‘savagery’."

“Don’t feed the beast...” the boy thought aloud, even as Sean’s words echoed in his head. "So I'm a fucking lab rat."

“But don't you see? You proved them wrong, Daniel,” Maria said. “That’s why the project was a failure. They never expected you to save your brother as many times as you did, or to have these...powers you have. You were supposed to be the one who went to Mexico, the one causing all the trouble. Not Sean. Because you’re the ‘nature’. They wanted to turn the tables on cultural evolution, but you blew it up in their faces. You’re not the monster.”

“And that’s why they’ll never stop hunting me...isn't it?”

Daniel fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. Maria embraced him, but he felt nothing. In all of his life spanning the past three years, all he ever wanted was to go home. But much like his brother to whom he was so devoted, it seemed that he, too, would always be traveling to some elusive place he’d never arrive at. For in his mind, the Wolf Brothers were still very much on the run to an eternal paradise, chasing one another from dusk to dawn into the horizon. From Mt. Rainier to Willamette, Beaver Creek to Humboldt, Haven Point to Away, and finally, to Puerto Lobos. Where else? It didn’t matter. They had each other.

And they would run. They would laugh. They would play together. They would find food and eat until their bellies were full, their money spent, their pockets full of holes. Then fall asleep beside each other, only to rise and do it again with the morning sun. But I can’t. I’m too tired, Brother. I need you.

The walkie cut across the silence.

“Flores...Flores, are you still there? We’ve got company!”

Maria let go of their embrace, but left a hand on Daniel’s shoulder as she looked him straight in the eyes.

“Run.”

Chapter Text

The cool of the forest air swept over him like an unforgiving current as he ran, breathing in the lush scents of the mountain wild. Twigs and branches snagged his soft skin and caught on loose clothing along the way, leaving cuts, drawing blood. Pinecones and branches snapped beneath his feet. High above, the midday sun broke through the canopy, illuminating what should have been a peaceful scene. Rabbits scurried back to their burrows in the distance. Squirrels darted up the trees. Crows streaked by. All the teeming life of the rough terrain made way for the young wolf prince as he broke through the blur of tears and the whirlwind of earthen scenery, chasing home with his faithful mutt trailing far behind.

“Run,” she had said. The only word that mattered anymore. The only word that seemed to sum up the entirety of his life. Looking back had only brought him pain, and looking forward felt just as useless. For whenever he arrived at the next new destination to find hope waiting, everything always went to shit. He began to think that by now, perhaps it was just his destiny. His karma. Or maybe even...my nature.

“Stop,” he panted, taking refuge beneath a large tree. “I can’t breathe...”

Daniel squatted down, elbows resting on his knees, and sunk his head at the thought while Lucky sat beside him. The weight of truth tightening his chest had stuck there ever since Flores looked him in the eye. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt back, allowing the sweaty mop of long dark hair to fall in his face as the tears stung. Why...just why? How could they do this to me? How could Mom let this happen? He sniffed back the mounting congestion in his nose and spat on the ground. His heart was still racing. Still can’t breathe. The fact Flores had deceived him with what at first looked like information about Sean also didn’t help. Not that he’d bothered looking at any of the other files, and in fact, he didn’t want to know.

The boy stood back up, giving Lucky a comforting pat on the head. They would both need water soon. Hopefully, things would blow over once Maria made it back to the hotel. Agent Michaels, she’d said, would be waiting on the other side of the mountain road beyond the forest to pick them up when it was safe. But how long am I supposed to just wait out here? Daniel wasn’t about to spend the night by himself in the woods, although it wouldn’t be the worst or most difficult thing. He’d picked up plenty of survival skills while out on the road with Sean after all, and always kept a lighter on him just in case. Stephen had given him one as a sort of secret Christmas present. It was engraved with the Stark wolf from Game of Thrones and had his name on it. ‘If you ever find yourself alone out there, this will come in handy. Remember the story of those Stark kids, and how brave they were? It reminded me a lot of you. You have that same spirit. And I know wolves are kind of your thing. Just promise you won’t burn down the forest, okay? We don’t need an incident like Arcadia Bay out here.’

“Damn, I love you Grandpa,” he smiled, toying with the lighter as he wiped the tears away. It made him feel like he would always have someplace to come home to, even if he could never stay. Being in Karen’s old room felt strange enough. Every morning, he’d wake up to that haunting carving left on her nightstand. ‘Exit doorway to somewhere else.’ But I’m not like you, Mom. I don’t need to keep running to be happy. I don’t want to. “What are we gonna say to Grandma and Grandpa when we get back, huh girl?” he asked Lucky. She whimpered and snuggled up to him. “We’ll be out of here soon. I promise.”

Daniel stepped to his feet and shook the sweat from his hair, continuing on toward the forest edge as he allowed his thoughts to run free again with the wind. Lucky became distracted at several points, but he was always able to coax her along. Through clearings and bushes and brambles they went, leaping over fallen tree trunks, maneuvering across the shallow river, until finally they arrived at a large ravine. He found the easiest path for the dog to get through, then trekked left for awhile to a similar spot. A second ravine lay just before the edge of the forest on the other side of the hill. They found a fallen, moss-covered birch tree that had made a bridge across. It was sturdy enough for Lucky, who bounded over it with no problem. Daniel, however, felt the wood crack upon making it halfway across.

The boy looked down in fear at the dizzying height. A twenty-foot drop lay just below. Thoughts of every terrifying scenario began to enter his mind as he stooped down and shook, even as his dog barked encouragement just beyond.

“Okay, Daniel...keep your eyes on her. You got this.” He took a deep breath, gazing back down. Then he chuckled. I have my powers. Why didn’t I think of this before? The dog barked a few times again, wagging her tail happily, as if to say duh, stupid. “All right. Here goes...” He extended a hand and focused all of his energy on the underside of the fragile trunk, holding it in place as he slowly rose and stepped forward with caution. Walls of air drifted upward around him, maintaining his balance on the way over. All the while, he kept his gaze steady on his furry companion. After a few more seconds of awkward maneuvering, he at last hopped to safety and let go.

There was a loud crack. The tree broke and exploded behind them, generating a shockwave that sent wooden chunks, splinters, and moss flying in every direction.

“Whoa!” Daniel shouted, thrown to the ground by the blast. He raised his head and looked back. A waterfall of debris cascaded down into the ravine behind him. “I have got to start watching that comedown,” he breathed, looking over at Lucky. “You all right, girl?” The dog had taken to cowering in the bushes a few feet ahead, visibly shaken. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” he panicked, getting up. She yelped and backed away when he approached. “Come here girl, I’m sorry! Lucky...Lucky!” The dog scampered a little farther. “Come back, I’m not going to hurt you.” After a few more moments of pleading, she slowly worked her way toward him. The boy scooped her up in his arms and cradled her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her head. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to hurt you, never, ever, ever. I love you, please don’t be scared okay? Don’t be scared.” Tears formed in his eyes again as he thought back on what he’d done to Sean, and the unintended consequences of his powers. As good as he’d become in controlling it, sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. Knowing that was what hurt most of all. God, I hate this shit.

Once he’d managed to sufficiently calm her down, the pair continued on in a sprint to the forest edge. A steep hill sloped down before them and led out to the main mountain road. There was still no sign of the silver Ford Fusion Maria had described. Daniel grabbed up Lucky again, cautiously stepping over the ledge, and began skidding down the muddy, leaf and pine needle-covered slope. When they got to the bottom, he put her down and stood behind a tree. It was far enough from the road to stay out of sight, yet still close enough to keep watch. A few minutes passed with no cars. Daniel had plodded back behind a set of bushes to take a piss when he finally heard it approach and drift to a halt. A door opened and closed far behind him. Shit. He zipped up his pants and turned, walking in a parallel line behind the trees until he caught sight of Agent Michaels pacing around at the road’s edge.

“That’s our cue. Come on, Lucky.” They quickly bounded over to the car together. Michaels was already opening the driver’s side door by the time they made it. Daniel opened the back and scooted in with the dog. “Hey,” he said.

“Took you long enough!” Michaels exclaimed, merging back into the lane. “Where the hell were you?”

“What are you talking about, I did what Flores said!”

“I’ve been driving up and down this stretch of road for the past twenty minutes waiting for you.”

“Yeah, well sorry I didn’t exactly plan on running through an entire fucking forest today! It’s nice to see you too, by the way.”

Agent Michaels sighed and adjusted the rearview mirror to keep an eye on him.

“So you know what’s going on?”

“Ha, yeah!” Daniel rolled his eyes in sarcasm. “You guys fucked up, right?”

“Look, just...chill out for a sec,” the man said, getting his bearings. “None of this was easy on us, either. I was undercover on a drug investigation up in Portland. The trail started in the south leading up from Arizona into Cali, Nevada, then Oregon through a variety of trafficking routes. But it all comes from Mexico. The FBI has been trying to put a dent in the Sonora cartel’s supply chain for years now. Now that chain extends east for a bit, but for some reason, it completely avoids Beaver Creek while seeping into the surrounding towns. We’ve been trying to figure out why.”

“And what the hell does that have to do with me, exactly?”

“It’s too early to tell for sure, but I started looking into things. Obviously, your mother is from here, so I followed the information we had on her previous arrest record from some early political protests she took part in. I came across some heavily redacted files and stumbled on Project Havenwolf. My best guess so far is that the drug runners are avoiding this place due to your surveillance. So I stole the file with some help from Flores. We couldn’t get it to you at home because they would have followed us, and all cars in the Bureau have GPS trackers and audio devices installed. We managed to remove the tracker and bribe some...random Craigslist guy we found to keep them off our trail.”

“So, what? You figured you’d piss me off enough that they might leave?”

“Well...yeah,” Agent Michaels sighed. “Those files were supposed to be destroyed, but whoever was in charge of the project kept them and made copies, maybe even distributed them to other agents in our department. After you were captured, it gave them an excuse to keep tabs on you. So now that it's exposed...they’re probably scared shitless.”

“Nice!” Daniel spat. “That’s all I need. Give them an even bigger reason to watch me, lock me up, and run experiments too, while you’re at it! I thought you guys buried my record.”

“Your record, yes. But this predates that.” The boy scowled at him. “Look, none of us knew about this until recently, okay?”

“Whatever,” Daniel replied, looking out the window. “You’re not the one who’s some science experiment gone wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel. I really am. But once they pull out, we’ll be able to tell if the FBI is the real problem for the cartel or not.”

“Doesn’t matter. You guys are definitely a problem for me.”

Agent Michaels sunk back in his seat.

“I know it’s fucked up,” he admitted. “There’s no defending it. But just try to roll with me on this one, all right bud? You know that Flores, myself, and Agent Michaels are the good guys. We wouldn’t be doing this if we had any doubts-”

“Yeah, yeah. Still don’t give a shit. I can’t tell who’s good or bad anymore. But I trust you guys aren’t gonna hurt me. And if it gets them to stop following me all the damn time, then...I guess it’s fine,” he shrugged, taking a moment to check on Lucky. She had curled up in his lap, visibly tired from their long trek through the woods. “I don’t suppose you got any water bottles?”

“I always bring an extra for the stakeout,” Michaels said, handing him one from the front seat.

“Thanks.” Daniel tore off the cap and took a short sip to make room in the bottle, then held it up to Lucky’s mouth so she could lap down the rest. “Good girl,” he smiled. “I’m thirsty too, but it can wait.”

“Always take care of the dog first, huh?”

“Duh! What kind of person would I be if I didn’t? She needs her energy. You always have to take care of the kids first. Leave the world a little better than you found it, ya know?”

Agent Michaels smiled. “That’s how I know we’re doing the right thing by helping you out. You’re a good kid, Daniel.”

“I don’t know about that. I mean I try to be, but. Having superpowers isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Makes things rough sometimes. When I use them, it gets harder to think. I just end up reacting to stuff that pisses me off. That part’s not so good.”

“Eh, that stuff comes with being a normal teenager too,” Agent Michaels said. “I had a lot of anger management issues when I was around your age. Broke my mom’s favorite vase, got in fights at school, took my brother’s car out on a joyride and totaled it. I felt caged by so many things. Took me a while to figure things out. And you will, too. Just try to be patient with yourself and hold onto that good heart.”

“Thanks. I’ll try to.”

As the car descended down the long mountain road and passed by an ever-growing frequency of black SUVs and unmarked vehicles in the opposite lane, Daniel held his breath. For now, anyway, they seemed invisible enough. All the major traffic was heading up the hill, though a few had broken off to start searching the woods. Damn, I really hope Flores is okay. He made sure to keep his head low in the meantime. But the fear was beginning to trigger something deep within him the more he thought of Project Havenwolf. The fear of being found, the fear of being locked away, of answering questions, of being poked and prodded. His heart rate was rising fast. Daniel cracked open a window and closed his eyes, focusing on the movement of the car and Lucky asleep in his arms as he took a series of deep breaths to calm his nerves. I don’t want to flip this car, I don’t want to cause I scene, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to fly away. Fly...He drew further into that feeling, comforted by the fresh mountain air swirling over his head.

“Uh, Daniel...Daniel!” Michaels exclaimed.

“Huh?” The boy opened his eyes and looked down. The car had risen off the road by several inches. “Shit!” he panicked, setting it down with a forceful impact that nearly bounced them out of their seats. A black car in the opposing lane whizzed past, then suddenly skirted to a halt and reversed, switching gears to speed forward in pursuit. Red and blue flashers came on. Oh no. The boy looked back. What now? Think fast, come on! And don’t you dare pull some E.T. shit again. Daniel closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, focusing all of his energy on the vehicle’s tires as they gained. A loud pop came from outside, then the scent of burning rubber. The car went fishtailing when the driver hit the brakes, sending it skidding to its side and screeching to a full 180 before it stopped in the distance.

But it wasn’t over yet. A caravan of other cars was already barreling down the hill toward them. Daniel held his breath again, trying to quell the Super Wolf inside him, trying to remember Sean’s calming voice. But it was too difficult. There were far too many of them. Flashes of that fateful moment at the gate to Mexico began flooding his mind, along with images from a dream he’d had several years ago of crushing a pack of wild coyotes between the bars. Spilling blood, taking lives. Meeting his other self in a vision, the boy who had lost their brother out of momentary stupidity. If I really wanted to, I could kill them all. But I’m not like you, El Lobo. I’m not losing what Sean taught me. Remember who you are, enano. He shut his eyes. He prayed to whatever gods existed that he wouldn’t have to act. But he wouldn’t have to pray for long. The sound of cars veering around them in waves caught his attention. That’s when he realized they weren’t pursuing. They were fleeing.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “What’s going on?”

“Guess they got the message,” Agent Michaels said, turning on the police scanner to be sure. Static crackled, followed by a cacophony of panicked voices.

“All units, 10-19, pull back immediately from the Eagle Rock location! Target is aware of increased surveillance. 10-23 for further information, 10-6.”

“What the fuck is going on out here?!”

“10-4, 10-6.”

“Uh...report? I take it we’re getting out of Beaver Creek.”

“10-3, stupid.”

“Unit 36, 10-15?”

“Negative. But we’ve apprehended a potential suspect. Unit 30 has been tampered with, 11-24. No sign of the former agent. Marriott Hotel clear.”

“Unit 36, 10-3, we’re dealing with classified information. Again, all units, please fall back from the Eagle Rock location, 10-23. Get your boys the hell out of Beaver Creek immediately, over.”

Chapter Text

Daniel sunk back in his seat with a sigh of relief as they continued on in the ensuing calm to the bottom of the mountain and beyond, illuminated by rays of scattered sunlight along the way. The rest of the drive home was one of quiet contemplation. Cars from all over Beaver Creek had turned out onto the main roads, abandoning their stakeout spots for parts unknown. Police cars sped by, unconcerned. The boy pressed his forehead against the window and looked on absently at the other familiar sights.

Out in the center of town, residents went about their daily afternoon business. Children laughed, fed birds, and ran along happily on the playgrounds. Baseball teams high-fived each other. Bicycles whizzed past. Skateboarders fell whilst attempting tricks as their friends eagerly snapped videos. Sisters played with dolls. Brothers fought over toys. And all of them were so blissfully unaware of the national secret lurking within their suburbs. I wish I could be them, Daniel thought. He had certainly tried to be, and yet it felt like no matter what happened, the nature of who and what he was would always come back to haunt him. But hopefully now, there would be more breathing room. More space. More chances to hang with his friends and be the kid he always wanted to be.

As the car at last turned onto Evergreen Street and the Reynolds’ home came into view, he took Lucky off his lap and unbuckled his seatbelt in preparation to get out. Agent Michaels turned back to check on him.

“You doing okay? You haven’t said a word since we left the mountain.”

“Yeah,” Daniel yawned. “Just a little tired from all the running around. Plus it’s the first nap I’ll be able to take without people watching the house.”

“Uh...shit, that’s something I forgot to warn you about.”

“What?”

“The Bureau set up some surveillance equipment in your house a few months ago when you and your grandparents were out. Cameras, wiretaps, mics. I don’t know where they’re located, but you might want to do some digging around in the major living spaces when you have time.”

“What the fuck?!” the boy gasped. “Have they seen me, like...doing private stuff?”

Agent Michaels chuckled. “I haven’t seen the feed myself, but I doubt it. Bedrooms aren't typically what they focus on, I’ll put it that way.”

“Good," Daniel breathed. "Still...how do I get rid of it?”

“Don’t say or do anything suspicious, which I’m sure you haven’t. I’ll take care of looping the feed, but it’ll take some time. Let your grandparents know, but write them a note, maybe before you leave for school so it doesn’t look odd. Have one of them call an electrician and cut power to the entire house, or do it yourself when they’re out. Then check all the light fixtures, wall outlet covers, underneath desks and furniture, basically any dark corner of the room you don’t touch. Definitely disconnect the landline. Once you find the tech, store it in the shed. I’ll have someone pick it up. Whatever you do, don't throw it in the trash.”

“Thanks,” Daniel shuddered. “Might be a good weekend project with Chris.” As the car neared the Eriksen property, something unusual caught his eye out the window. A white, beat-up looking Ford Taurus sat parked in the driveway alongside Charles’ old truck. The front door of the house was wide open and hanging off at a slight angle. The top hinge appeared to have been broken off in signs of a struggle. Or a break-in. That’s not good. “What the hell...”

“What’s up?”

“Pull over, something’s wrong at my friend’s house!” Agent Michaels obeyed, pulling to the edge of the driveway. Daniel was already opening the door before they came to a full stop. “Door looks busted and I’ve never seen that car before. It’s definitely not Audra’s. Keep Lucky in the car, I have to check it out.”

“All right, I’m coming with you,” Michaels said, removing a gun from the glove box.

“Dude, I don’t need your help, I got this!”

“Okay first off, you’re still just a kid, powers or not. As long as you’re with me, you’re my responsibility. Second, I’m a federal agent, so things will sure as hell go a lot better for you if I’m there, considering the kind of shit we just got out of.”

“Fine, whatever,” the boy rolled his eyes. “Just stay behind me so no one sees you.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that.” Agent Michaels tore out of the car and marched up the driveway ahead of him. “I’m Mulder, you’re Scully, that means I stay in front so you don’t get hurt.”

“Dude, I can literally stop bullets with my mind!”

“Well if my bullets fail, I’ll let you do your Dark Phoenix thing. But until then, you follow my lead, got it?”

“Yeah, whatever. And what the hell is a Dark Phoenix?”

“Seriously? You need to watch more movies, kid.”

“Claire won’t exactly let me. Besides, I don’t want to watch superpower shit. My friends keep talking about Stranger Things, but I can’t look at that show the same way ever again. Especially after today.” Daniel’s expression was one of sadness mixed with grief and anger spanning years beyond his tender age. Much as he knew such films and shows should make him feel seen, doing so caused him more pain than pride. Things like acceptance and justice, especially for someone like him, rarely happened in the real world.

“Hey...” Agent Michaels stopped and turned to pull him in for a hug, patting him on the back. Daniel froze at the unexpected gesture. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

“It’s fine.” The young wolf remained stoic, even as he wiped away a stray tear before plodding ahead. “We should get inside.”

Once they had neared the end of the driveway, Michaels took point alongside the outer wall and motioned for Daniel to do the same as he followed behind. The pair slowly crept along, staying low and on high alert for any noise coming from the inside the house. Everything seemed eerily quiet, save for some birds out in the yard. The young agent proceeded up the steps with his gun in both hands, aimed downwards. A sudden creak sounded uncomfortably beneath his feet on the last stair. Great. He looked back at Daniel, and they both grit their teeth. The boy cautiously followed along, bracing himself against the wall to skip the offending step. Agent Michaels stopped at the open doorway. From there, they could hear the television blaring the last round of a basketball game.

Daniel’s heart thudded in his chest at the fear of what might be lurking just around the corner. It seemed an odd sensation to be having, given that he knew perfectly well what he was capable of. He should have felt brave, strong, impulsive, like a walking god, just as he had back in Humboldt. Why can’t I feel like that again? But just because he had superpowers didn’t mean he never got scared, of course. And the more time he spent away from Sean, the more he had found himself scared of a great many things he’d since had to face on his own. Focus enano, his brother’s voice spoke in his head, quickly followed by the memory of Finn’s. Daniel...you got this.

Blood was rushing fast to his skin as that familiar itchy feeling took over. The Super Wolf had awoken inside him again, waiting for its moment to howl as Agent Michaels peered around the edge of the doorway. He looked back to Daniel and nodded. All clear. The man raised his weapon and proceeded inside. Daniel gasped at the sight before them. The kitchen table to the left had been overturned, along with two of the chairs. Small traces of blood were smeared along the length of the counter, several cabinets, and the refrigerator door. Spots could be seen on the carpet as well, a trail that led to an overturned bookcase, then Charles’ room. As they crept further along, his foot touched a wrinkled photograph that lay facedown on the wooden floor. He stooped down to pick it up.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, recognizing the figures in the picture. It was a distance shot of him and Stephen walking home with Lucky. From the angle, it looked to have been taken somewhere on Forest Drive, the street that ran adjacent to Evergreen just up the block. The clothing they wore in the photo, he remembered, was from about three weeks prior on a Sunday afternoon. Another photo lay just ahead, this one facing up. It was Chris on the same street, walking in the opposite direction. He looked tired and worn out, hands in his pockets, his head hung low. Oh Chris...I’m so sorry I haven’t been paying enough attention to you, Daniel thought sadly. Muffled cries could be heard coming from behind the bedroom door as they inched closer. That itchy feeling was getting harder to subdue.

Blood was smeared around the doorknob and along the frame. The boy shuddered at the thought of whose blood it might be. Charles? Chris? The intruder’s? He prayed it was the latter, but there was nothing nearby to tell. Agent Michaels darted ahead to the series of three closed doors with Daniel following. He stopped at the entryway in front and held a finger to his lips, urging the boy to be as quiet as possible.

No shit, Daniel mouthed, trembling as his eyes darted from one red spot to the next. He wondered if this must have been how Sean felt when he’d found him at the end of that snowy path with the cougar. But unlike him, Chris and his dad didn’t have many effective ways of protecting themselves. Charles didn’t even own a gun, as far as he knew. Daniel thought back to that horrible incident in Willamette, and his regret over failing to protect Mushroom that day. He could scarcely handle it when she died, but what if he failed now to protect his best—and human—friend? Don’t even go there, dude. He could be okay for all you know. He probably needs you to be strong right now. So don’t be a pussy. Daniel gathered up his strength and took a deep breath to prepare himself for whatever lay beyond that door as Agent Michaels cautiously reached for the knob. More muffled cries came from inside. One sounded like an adult male, and the other, a child’s. Then came the sound of footsteps. A cell phone rang, followed by a gruff voice that spoke in Spanish.

“Hola? Si, estoy aqui. Ni rastro de el. Quizás no sea la casa correcta. Mhmm. Uh huh. Well what else do you expect me to do, eh? Not my fault! Aye, dios mio. Whatever, man. Just sign me up for the morning flight. I’ll get rid of them myself.”

“Not today,” Daniel seethed, tearing open the door with his powers. Agent Michaels stormed ahead, but the boy threw him out of the way. Told you I don’t need help. The muscular Latino intruder immediately took aim at the boy, but he lunged forward, hurling the man against the back wall to pin him with the full force of his telekinetic abilities. He dropped the gun. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY FRIENDS?!” the Super Wolf roared, glancing over at the closet. Chris and Charles had been bound with duct tape and black trash bags over their heads. The trail of blood led over the bed. It was then that he noticed the source—Charles’ left hand sported a huge, nasty gash from the struggle. Agent Michaels rose back up and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Okay, put him down, I’ll take it from here.” He didn’t budge. “Daniel, let him go!”

“NO! He needs a lesson,” he replied coldly, twisting his hand to choke the assailant. The man began to grasp at his throat, eyes going wide as if they might pop out of his skull. His body shook. So did the rest of the room. The window cracked. The lamp on the nightstand rose, its bulb exploding inside its shade, raining down a shower of bright sparks. Records were torn from their neat pile near the window and swirled through the air, spinning faster and faster. Pens and markers drifted uncapped in his line of sight. Shoelaces came undone from sneakers. The gun rose from the floor and clicked. Daniel was getting a few ideas. 

“Stop!” Michaels demanded. “If you kill him, you go to jail and we don’t find out anything about why he’s here!”

“I don’t CARE!” the boy screamed. “Nobody hurts my friends! Besides,” he smirked, spinning the records in formation with the velocity of a saw blade, “my fingerprints won’t be on a damn thing.”

“Is this really who you are, Daniel? Is this what you abandoned your brother for? HUH?!” the agent snapped.

Those words. They stung. Daniel froze and let go. Every object in the room came crashing down around them, along with the intruder on the far wall. Something about those words cut like a knife through every defense the Super Wolf erected when he was in the moment, penetrating his racing heart. The boy fell to his knees. He panted. Tears of hot, unquenched rage burned his soft cheeks. He balled his tiny fists. He held them like that until his nails left bloody crescents and clenched his teeth so hard, they felt as if they’d crack apart in his mouth. Agent Michaels laid a hand on his shoulder. He smacked it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me! AHHH!” he screamed, bolting out of the room for the kitchen. He slumped on the floor in a fetal position near the cabinets. He couldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t stop shaking. Not after that. Every sight, sound, and memory had racked his nerves to the point of overload, and his bones felt brittle. The more he tried to take control of his body, the more the electrical current of unreleased energy railed back against him like a conscious seizure. He couldn’t be sure if it was hormones or not, but it seemed that ever since he’d hit puberty, his powers had become progressively more difficult to control. It was getting harder to keep his wits. It was harder for him to stay calm and focused. Worst of all, it was harder for him to stop. And now, there would be no feds to keep an eye on him.

Maybe I should be locked away. Sean...why did I ever leave you? I was stupid. I was selfish, and now people around me are getting hurt. Come back, please, and I swear I’ll be the good little Wolf Brother I’m supposed to be! I need you now more than ever. The sound of labored footsteps approaching soon caught his ears. Small footsteps. Weakened footsteps, along with whimpers.

“Daniel?” a voice spoke, half crying. He looked up into the bruised face of his friend.

“Chris? Oh god, Chris!” Daniel rose as the boy ran to embrace him on the linoleum floor, where the two of them wept and held onto each other for dear life. “Why is it that every time I’m over here, you’re always in some kind of trouble, huh?”

“You know me man, my life is always a mess,” Chris chuckled through his tears. “Besides, what’s Captain Spirit without Super Wolf to save the day, right?”

“You’re so fucking corny!” Daniel giggled with him. “Ugh, come here, I love you, I was so scared when I saw the blood.” He pulled him into another hug.

“My dad just slashed his hand up. I got a bunch of bruises, but I’m fine. Love you too, dude. You saved my life again! But,” he said worriedly, pulling away, “that was hella intense. Are you sure you’re okay?” His bottom lip was trembling and swollen.

“Yeah...I’m fine, don’t worry. Just needed to cool off, I guess. But it’s getting a little harder. I’m really sorry if I scared you. I know you’ve never seen me get like that.”

Chris held the back of Daniel’s soft hair and closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together.

“Don’t you ever be sorry for a goddamn thing, Daniel Diaz,” he said.

 “Chris...what the hell even happened?”

“I don’t know, man. One minute, I was in the tree house and I heard my dad yell and knock shit over, so I came down. The house looked empty, so I called and looked around for him. I went into his room and found him tied in the corner. Then the door suddenly shut behind me, and this guy was there with a gun. Daniel, he was pissed. I think he got the wrong house and was looking for you...”

Chris trailed off as Agent Michaels emerged from the room with Charles, dragging the now unconscious assailant out onto the kitchen floor. His body stunk in a potent mixture of urine, sweat, and something else. The third scent, Daniel soon realized, came from Chris’s dad. He smelled like a distillery. Huh...he’s drinking again. Figures. Now it makes sense why Chris wasn’t inviting me over. He shot Charles a death glare as he stood up from the body, exhausted and swinging his arms like he’d just lifted a piece of furniture, but the man didn’t notice. One day, I’ll MAKE you notice.

“Whew, I am not as in shape as I used to be,” he remarked.

“Sorry,” Michaels sighed, “I know you need stitches on that hand, but my only other two options are the boys, and-”

“I could’ve handled it!” Daniel cut him off.

“I think you’ve handled things quite enough for one day!” the agent fired back. “Matter of fact, we need to talk. You, me, outside. Now!”

“What’s your problem? It’s not like I...” Michaels simply pointed to the open door. “Ugh, fine,” Daniel said, reluctantly getting off the floor. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he assured his friend.

“I know you will,” the boy smiled. It was that particular adorable, affectionate, Chris smile that Daniel didn’t see very often, but he knew very well what it meant—his best friend had feelings for him. And though he still wasn’t sure what to do about that, Daniel did know one thing: He would annihilate anyone who ever tried to wipe that sweet smile off his friend’s face.

But for now, he knew a lecture was coming. He could feel it. And while he perfectly understood the reasons for why, it felt unnecessary. In many ways, he couldn’t stand Agent Michaels. The man was too procedural, too reckless, too impatient, and too dismissive of the Diaz boy and his unique situation. Daniel sensed that Flores and Parker weren’t exactly fond of him either, but rather tolerated his presence because for the most part, he helped and was willing to risk his career in equal measure. Not that it meant much to Daniel. All authorities were some level of garbage to him.

“What do you want?” the boy groaned once they’d reached the porch.

“Just what the fuck was that?”

“Sorryyy!” Daniel bit with sarcasm. “But what exactly was your plan to take control of things, Agent Genius? You would’ve shot him yourself if I didn’t step up.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it? He was totally about to frag the shit out of you, dude!”

“I don’t think you know what ‘frag’ means.”

“Gaming slang,” the boy rolled his eyes. “Look, I know I lost control in there-”

“That’s the understatement of the century!” Michaels snapped. “And after I just helped get the FBI off your case? Real smart move! Makes me wonder if I really did the right thing.”

“What about all that stuff you said about me being a good person?”

“That was before I ever saw anything like that! Threatening to razorblade a guy to death with what, records, of all things? Or cocking a gun at him? That doesn’t exactly help your case.”

“You said normal teens deal with anger management too!”

“Yeah, and you could use some classes before you wipe out your school!” Michaels sighed, taking a seat on the steps.

“Man, I almost thought you were cool, but you’re such a dick.”

“So I’ve been told throughout my career. A lot, actually. You mind taking a seat?”

“Yes!” Daniel snapped, but quickly calmed himself enough to sit down. “Whatever.” The boy hung his head as he leaned forward. Agent Michaels hesitated, allowing the silence in the air a chance to set in before he spoke again.

“What I saw in there today...just really concerns me.”

“Yep,” the boy replied pointedly. “I know. Don’t worry, I already feel like enough of a monster, in case you forgot that night in the hotel when you guys brought me home. I’ve had years to think about how different I am since I left Sean, so it’s not like that’s news to me. Trust me, I’m just as freaked out as you and anyone else who knows. Probably even more.”

Daniel propped an elbow on his knee as he held his head in his hand, intertwining his fingers with strands of dark brown hair. He hated having these kinds of conversations with people when they found out the extent of what he could do. It felt like coming out, in a way. And the most frustrating part was having to explain it all to them multiple times, over and over. Yes, I know what I am. Yes, I know it scares people. No, you don’t have a damn clue about how much it scares me.

“Well, we got lucky at least,” Agent Michaels said. “Charles was pretty much passed out for the whole damn thing. I take it your friend already knows?”

“He does,” Daniel nodded. “He’s not gonna say shit. Has his own issues. Obviously.”

“Has his dad ever tried to get help?”

“Yeah,” the boy chuckled. “Pretty sure Chris has lost count of the amount of times. It’s not fucking fair. If I was him, I’d rather have a dead dad than a shitty alcoholic one.”

Agent Michaels gave him a pat on the back as they looked out toward the horizon across the street. But the older Daniel got, the more he realized he hated being comforted by anyone. He didn’t feel deserving of it. The only person that sort of affection really mattered from anymore was Sean. It was at that point he realized that perhaps he still hadn’t fully forgiven himself for leaving his brother behind at the border. He wanted forgiveness from him he would never get. And to make up for it, he was trying to be everyone else’s savior. It just so happened that Chris needed the most saving.

“Well hey, I kinda don’t want to leave him alone in there with his dad if the guy’s still drunk,” Daniel said, rising to his feet.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” the agent said, looking him in the eye. “You are a good person.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, dude. Because I can’t say whether you did the right thing, either. Maybe it’s better to have people watching me so I don’t go all nuclear?” he shrugged. “I don’t know. But when it really comes down to it, you gotta understand that I’ll do whatever I have to to protect the ones I love. That’s just how it is.”       

Agent Michaels chuckled. “Flores is so damn proud of you, ya know?”

“She should be proud of herself! She’s totally badass. I hope I can be like her one day.”

“I’m sure you will,” the man smiled. “I should probably pull up the car.”

“Oh shit, Lucky’s still in there!” Daniel gasped.

“I’ll be sure to let her out before I come back up.”

“All right. She usually comes running to me anyways. So uh...do you need me to like...do anything?”

“Getting home before your grandmother worries sounds like a good idea,” the man said, hopping down the steps. “Charles is heading for the hospital to get his hand stitched with Chris. After I take care of our little guest and get his car towed, I’ll meet them there to gloss over any questions.”

“Okay...and Agent Michaels?” the boy said, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Thanks for everything. Again.”

“I hate to say I hope we don’t have to see each other anymore, but...I’m sure I’ll be in Beaver Creek until things blow over. Stay safe,” the man saluted.

“You too.” Daniel had to admit the thought of having his own band of rogue ‘secret service’ agents still excited him. It may have been three long years, but knowing that Flores, Parker, and Michaels still cared and looked out for him meant the world. It was certainly more than Sean had managed to do. Not that it was really his fault, but the young wolf couldn’t shake the idea that if his brother truly and honestly gave a shit, he would have found some way of reaching out by now. Nothing will ever tear us apart. Ha. Yeah right. Maybe Sean had known he was being watched, and that getting in touch would put his precious little enano in danger. At least he tried to call, Daniel reasoned. Once and never again. Hope you’re having fun, whatever you’re up to. Dickwad. The more time that passed, the less he cared. There were more important things to focus on in Beaver Creek, anyway. Like taking care of Chris.

He turned back in the house to check over the scene again. The scum that had attacked the Eriksens still lay sprawled on the floor across the room. Charles sat in a chair near the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth as his son washed the wound and applied a liberal wrapping of gauze over it. How that boy still managed to care for such a piece of shit after the abuse he’d endured, Daniel would never understand. Was it a sense of obligation? The fear of being placed in foster care if CPS got involved? He shuddered to think it was anything approaching love. Especially after how much he smiled at the very aura of Daniel’s presence whenever he walked in the room. His face would light up like an excited child’s on Christmas morning. Maybe it’s all because he wants to be around me. He’s afraid of being sent away, of losing me. I’m afraid of losing you too, Chris...

“Hey you,” his friend grinned sheepishly. There it was again.

“Hey. You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh yeah, just...getting dad wrapped up here before we go to the ER. You coming with?”

“Wish I could, but my grandma thinks I was out with Flores.”

“Ouch!” Charles grumbled as Chris applied antibiotic ointment to a cut on his head. “Be careful.”

“Hold still and stop being a pussy, and maybe it won’t hurt!” the boy said, squeezing out another gob. His father suddenly grabbed him by the wrist with such force that Chris gasped. Daniel inched forward, a fresh rage building inside him at the sight of his friend quivering in fear. I can make your dad quiver like that. But Chris, still trembling, held his ground and spoke firmly. “Dad...let...go.” The man immediately obeyed after realizing Daniel was in the room.  

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’re not,” Chris breathed. “But I love ya anyway.” He continued applying the ointment on his father’s forehead, but was soon interrupted again.

“How...how?!” Charles choked up in desperation, starting to cry. “How can you still love me after all I’ve done?”

“Well...you’re my dad, and I kinda have to.” The man wept harder at his son’s statement, shielding his face in the crook of his elbow. “Dad? Just chill out, all right? Everything’s going to be okay,” the boy hugged him tight, and his father hugged back. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you, son. Thank you.”

Daniel couldn’t believe the bizarre and unhealthy family dynamic he was witnessing, much less the range of Charles’ scattered emotions. It made him uncomfortable to be around. And yet, he resisted the urge to run. Mostly for Chris’s sake, although that wasn’t the only thing he felt like running from. Because deep down, he had begun to find himself torn into pieces over the thought of almost losing his friend that day. Other thoughts flooded his mind, too. Thoughts of wanting to always be there, wanting to protect him. Wanting to hold him close, and make sure no harm ever came to him. Wanting to...

“Hey Chris?”

“What’s up?” the boy asked, finishing up the bandage on his father’s hand.

“Can we talk for a second? In your room.”

“Sure,” he replied. “Just one more tuck...and you’re the shit,” he said, forcing a smile for Charles. “Ya cool, Dad?”

“I think I’m all good. Thanks, buddy.”

“Mmhmm. Should just let me stitch it up myself next time,” he grinned, turning for his room.

“I’m sure you’d love that.”

“Not as much as I’d love to see you sober, but I won’t hold my breath. Come on, Daniel.”

The young wolf’s heart pounded as butterflies held his stomach hostage at the thought of what he was about to do. Crossing that short distance between the kitchen and Chris’s room suddenly felt like walking across a hot desert canyon toward a lush, tropical oasis. He envisioned scorpions snapping at his heels, vultures picking him apart, all the while urging him forward to a peaceful place of life-sustaining hydration. Daniel’s skin felt hot. Hotter than it even became when he was in the throes of Super Wolf rage. And again, he felt himself unable to calm down...but in an entirely different way.

As they at last crossed that fatal threshold to a room covered in posters of his friend’s childhood heroes—Power Bear, Hawt Dawg Man, and his large collection of associated merchandise—Daniel’s eyes fell to an intricate colored pencil drawing taped to the ceiling high above the boy’s bed. It was him, drawn in a beautiful yet archaic comic style, proudly extending his hand forward in a triumphant pose. ‘My Hero, Super Wolf’, it read. I’m the first thing he thinks about in the morning. He couldn’t take it anymore. He shut the door and looked back at Chris, who now had mortified expression washing over his tender face.

“Shit,” the boy gasped. “Look Daniel, I-”

“Oh shut up Chris, just shut up!”

He leaned in and kissed him on the lips, allowing himself to be taken by the feeling, far out of the deserts of his mind and into that sweet rush of life. This, he thought. This is what I left my brother for, the love I always wanted. A surge of electricity consumed him as their mouths connected, leading to desperation. Soon, Daniel found himself tracing his fingers over his friend’s face, caressing his neck, pulling his head and body closer as their tongues danced. Shivers ran down his spine. Blood rushed from his stomach downward, and his heart pounded faster. More, the Super Wolf inside him demanded, but there wasn’t any time. Daniel broke it off when they heard a series of scratching and yelping noises from beyond the door. Lucky.

“Damn,” Chris panted, pressing their foreheads together. He gave Daniel another peck on the lips for good measure, then went for his neck.

“Stop!” the boy giggled, pushing him away. “I should really get going before Claire freaks out.” He hated having to leave Chris when they were in the moment. His jeans felt unbearably uncomfortable now, a problem he intended to take care of at home. Under the covers this time, he reminded himself, still shuddering at the thought of hidden cameras in his house.

“Okayyy,” his friend rolled his eyes. “But wait, does this mean you...wanna...?”

“Yeah,” Daniel whispered with a confident smile. “I’ll go out with you.”

The adorable raccoon’s face lit up as he dove into the wolf’s arms. The arms of his friend, the arms of his hero. Arms he knew would always be waiting for him. Daniel embraced his Captain Spirit back, more excited than he’d ever been about the new adventures and love that awaited them both together.

“You’ve just made me the happiest guy on earth! I love you, Daniel Diaz.”

“I love you too, Chris Eriksen,” he said, pulling back from their embrace. “By the way, you sure your dad’s okay to drive?”

“Oh, I called us an Uber. Don’t worry, we’ll be safe.”

“Better be. I want my boyfriend to be okay.”

“With Super Wolf to protect him, I’m sure he's in good hands,” Chris grinned.

“Call you later,” Daniel promised, planting a kiss on his cheek and opening the door to greet an overexcited Lucky. He made sure to give Charles a biting glare on his way out the door before Agent Michaels returned to drag the still unconscious man out to the car. What the plan was after that, he didn’t know and didn’t care to. For now, Daniel felt like focusing on the brighter future he deserved as he skipped back home with Lucky, happy and fulfilled for the first time in three long years. The feds were out of town, the Eriksens were safe, and his grandparents loved him.

And best of all, he had a boyfriend who did, too. That was enough.

*          *          *

A fresh rainfall came that night over the peaceful town of Beaver Creek, washing away the last of the spring dust, forest debris, animal remains, and a few state secrets. Agent Michaels exhaled the remaining smoke in his lungs with another sigh. He had been chain smoking next to his beat up car in the dark for the past half-hour, and Flores still hadn’t checked in. Where the hell are you? He looked back up at the full moon, and the abandoned lakeside warehouse that loomed above like a haunted relic of the bygone industrial age.

Over a century ago, workers and their families had flocked to the new town of Beaver Creek, eager to build a better life for themselves. But as new major cities sprung up around them, and a series of unsolved murders and arson shook the community back in the 70’s and 80’s, people left. They got scared. Humans are so predictable. And that abandoned warehouse was beginning to sound ever more genuine, giving the shouts and screams of the man trapped inside. The young agent checked his phone again. Still nothing. He flicked his cigarette across the crumbling lot and ran a hand through his short, ash blond hair. If she didn’t get there soon, he was about to abandon their little mission. Then his phone lit up with a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Sorry I got held up. Had to change my plates and hide out for the day. They were all over that hotel when I got there.”

“Well you should be good now. Our plan worked. They pulled out of town.”

“For now, yes. But we both know they’ll be back. I trust you took care of things at the Eriksen house?”

“Yeah. Place looks spotless, and I had his car junked.”

“And you have him in custody?”

“Obviously. But if he keeps loosening that gag and shouting like this, I can’t promise he’ll still be alive by the time you get here.”

“At least the lakeside is remote. I still can’t believe after your investigation that they’re suddenly bold enough to come into Beaver Creek. The question is why, after all this time?”

“Hopefully we get some answers.”

“Yes. Anyway, I’ll see you soon. I’m about ten minutes out.”

“10-4.”

The phone beeped a disconnecting tone as she hung up. Agent Michaels paced and lit up another cigarette in a vain attempt to distract himself from the fresh sound of the Mexican man’s awful singing. It wasn’t working. He quickly coughed and spat on the tarmac. The nicotine overload was making his head throb, and that horrendous noise only made it worse. He tossed his pack of Newports aside and marched toward the building. The steps leading up to the entrance were broken, the railing absent. He stumbled on his way in, which only angered him more. If I had Daniel’s powers, I’d have already choked the life out of him.

The room he’d handcuffed the man at the end of was a large old workspace. Floorboards lay cracked, old hunks of machinery sat gathering dust and animal waste, and there were cobwebs everywhere. Windows were broken. The ceiling was caving in across multiple sections. Papers and posters lay crumpled and scattered about, along with some moldy old uniforms and the occasional nametag. Pigeon droppings were littered everywhere. Scents of sawdust, old fires, and fish filled the air—over the pungent aroma of the man’s urine. Overall, it was a disgusting place, but it worked if one didn’t want to be found. Agent Michaels had chained the assailant to one of the many wooden beams which supported the ailing structure.

“You want to shut up?!” he yelled. The man continued in his horrid rendition of ‘La Bamba’ before transitioning into a Spanish version of ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’. Michaels drew his gun and fired off a shot just above his head. The man laughed. Yeah, keep it up, asshole.

“You Americans are so funny!” he giggled. “El cerdo se come la mierda, y al cerdo le encanta la mierda. Haha! What’s wrong, pendejo? You no like my singing? In México, they tell me I have a beautiful voice, just like an angel!”

“I’m sure,” Agent Michaels sneered, hearing the sound of an approaching car pull up in the distance. Thank god. He took a seat on one of the few unbroken folding chairs and waited in silence as the man muttered more insults. A bright flashlight shone from the doorway when Flores at last entered the sprawling room.

“Oh dear god, that smell reeks!” she remarked, covering her nose. “This was the best you could do? Really?”

“The only place I could find that was far enough away from the road,” the agent shrugged.

“Fucking hell. Well, we’re here now. So this is the guy, huh?”

“In the flesh,” Agent Michaels stood.

“Reminds me of my Uncle Pedro. Hold my flashlight please,” she said, handing it over to her former colleague. Flores gave him her coat as well and quickly got down to business. “We have some questions,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “I expect you to answer them in full, and in English, please.”

“Ah, señorita! Es agradable y húmedo para mí?” She ignored him.

“We’ve intercepted shipments of drugs coming out of the Portland area,” she said. “Cocaine from Mexico is being dealt across networks extending east. But you boys seem awful scared of the Beaver Creek area. Why is that?”

“No hablo inglés,” the man grinned.

“Fine, if it will get me somewhere,” she rolled her eyes. “Por qué estabas en esa casa?”

“Isn’t that better?” he laughed. “Estaba esperando a alguien.”

“Quién era ese? Were you selling to Charles Eriksen?”

“No,” the man said plainly. “Obviously, I had the wrong house. Boss has an investment to protect here. That good enough for you, coño?”

“But no drugs come in or out. Why?”

“The investment. He wanted FBI pigs gone first. And so...dos lobos, una piedra,” he smiled.

Flores stepped away and pulled Michaels further up the room toward the entrance to speak with him privately.

“Please tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

“He meant to hit up the Reynolds, yeah, I got that,” the agent said. “But why?” Flores raised an eyebrow. “Oh shit...they got to Sean, didn’t they?”

“‘Two wolves, one stone’. Sounds like the cartel’s trying to send a message. He must have fucked up and found out something he wasn’t supposed to know. They’ve had their eye on Beaver Creek for awhile and wanted the FBI out of here just as much as we did. Killing Daniel would certainly loosen the federal chokehold, as well as getting back at Sean.”

“Fuck!” Agent Michaels raged.

“We did exactly what they wanted. Now, we have to fix this.”

“Shit...” His skull was still pounding. “And how do you propose we do that?”

Maria quickly leaned forward, tore the man’s gun out of his holster, cocked it, and shot the cartel member square between the eyes. A splash of blood sprayed out as he slumped over, dead.

“That’s a start,” she remarked, tossing the still smoking gun back at the bewildered agent. “I’ll have Parker take care of the rest. You’d better get back to your regular assignment.”

Agent Michaels’ mouth dropped open as she walked away toward the open doorway. What the hell was that?

“D-Did you seriously just-”

“I’m done licking boots for a living,” she cut him off. “If you’ve got a conscience left, you’ll do the same. This isn’t about laws or politics anymore. I’m not letting anyone fuck with those boys ever again.”

Chapter Text

Cancún, Mexico

Three weeks ago...

Sean lay on his back with his eyes closed and took in a deep breath of the warm, summer Cancún air. The salty aroma of the ocean mixed with the sun, breezy weather, and golden sands made it easy to drift away and even easier to get lost. For the better part of the past two years, he’d lived secure in relative anonymity. And it was all thanks to a stranger named Mindi Whitcomb, an absolute mystery of a girl who—it turned out—was far from anonymous.

He’d done some additional reading up on her after that strange night in 2018. Her father George was something of a twenty-first century tycoon, capitalizing on a range of real estate investments across several countries, as well as being a distinguished civil engineer. The family was considered ‘old money’ in the business world, being related to a variety of other well-renowned Whitcombs throughout history. Mindi herself, he’d discovered, was a makeup vlogger and fashionista with several million followers. Beyond that polished exterior, however, lurked a lot of dark family secrets. Not that he cared anymore. She was long gone, but at least he now had a beach house and a new legal name that would keep him safe from anyone looking. Alejandro Diaz. Dad’s middle name. Wonder how he got it.

The boy sat up and adjusted the sunglasses back on his nose. It almost felt silly to be wearing them, given that he only had one good eye left. But UV protection was a must in Mexico, and after living in Away, he’d come to realize that excessive sunlight always gave him a bit of mild residual socket pain and itchiness. He groaned at the thought, raising a hand to massage the scar tissue below his new ocular prosthesis. Things had healed rougher than he would have liked, though all things considered, he still felt lucky to have any vision whatsoever. He reached over through the coarse sand, searching for his buried sketchbook as he observed the waves in the distance. Time to sketch another moment in paradise. His cell phone vibrated in the dust beneath his rear. Shit. How long has that been going off? He dug it out and checked the screen. Ten missed calls, unknown number. As he scrolled through the numerous notifications, a sudden shadow moved to block the sunlight from above him.

“Sean fuckin’ Diaz!” He tore off the sunglasses and looked up.

“Finn?! Oh my god, you made it!” the boy cried, leaping to his feet to embrace his long lost friend.

“Haha, sight for that sore eye, eh amigo?” the young man laughed and pat him on the back.

“Yeah,” Sean chuckled, “still hurts a little after that ocular prep, but not as much now.”

“Ah, you’re looking right as rain. I missed you sweetie,” Finn said, kissing his cheek. “And guess what, I ain’t the only one!” Sean looked in the distance behind him to see an overjoyed Cassidy sprinting up the beach in her bare feet toward them.

“SEAN!” she shrieked.

“Holy shit, Cass!” Sean grinned as they broke off their hug. She closed in fast and leapt up into his arms to wrap her legs tight around his waist, causing them to spin in a furious circle until they both fell in the sand laughing.

“Ya miss me?” she asked, straddling him.

“How could I not?”

Cassidy leaned over, planting a warm, wet kiss on his lips.

“Been way too long since I seen this goddang cute face ‘a yours,” she smiled.

“Hard to believe it’s been three years.”

“And three long years of being rid of that piece of shit Merrill, fuck youuu!” Finn exclaimed, throwing middle fingers at the sky.

“When we heard you made it to Mexico, we were happy as fuck!” Cassidy laughed, adjusting her dreads and climbing off him. “But Daniel ain’t with ya? What the hell happened?”

“It’s...a long story,” Sean sighed, massaging his scar tissue again. “But he made his choice. I made mine. He’s back in Beaver Creek with our grandparents.”

“Shit. Do ya’ll keep in touch, or?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Too dangerous for him. Place is probably crawling with feds. I did find an article where he saved a school bus from going off a bridge last year.”

“Damn!”

“Yeah,” the boy chuckled. “I’m proud of him, but I just...can’t. At least I know he’s safe. That’s what really matters. Probably hates my guts anyway.” Sean’s expression fell grim as he toyed with the sand.

“I very much doubt that, after all you boys went through.”

“Well...I hope he understands.”

Cassidy wrapped her arms around him from aside, resting her head on his right shoulder.

“You’re his big brother, ‘course he understands. Maybe not now, but eventually. Cheer up, sugar cup. Cass is here to make it all better,” she said, kissing his temple.

“God, I’ve missed you guys so much,” Sean smiled.

“Hey, we missed you too,” Finn said, sitting cross-legged to join them. “Damn, this place is perfect! I mean, it ain’t no Costa Rica, but.” Sean laughed. “It’s pretty nice, Diaz! How the hell did you manage to score this?”

“Eh, that’s one trade secret I can’t exactly share,” he chuckled.

“You holdin’ out on us now?” Cassidy asked. “Come on, we got more secrets among us than most families, right?”

“True, but...ehhh. Okay. Long story short, I got into some messed up cartel shit and hooked up with this crazy rich American chick, that’s all I can say.”

“Ooh, a rich girl now, eh?” Cassidy eyed him. “Never thought that was your type, Sean Diaz!”

“And an American chick?” Finn inquired. “Bo-ring! Here, I thought you’d have found yourself some pretty local señorita and settled down with three kids by now!”

“Nah, I’m a little more into brown-haired Scottish guys with dreads,” Sean grinned. “And maybe the occasional purple-headed southern chicas.”

“Well ain’t we gettin’ polyamorous now,” Cassidy grinned. “Oh man, I’m so excited to have us a bonfire tonight and sing you boys some brand new songs I wrote on the road. And Sean, you gotta see my hippie mobile!”

“No shit, you actually got one? I remember you talking about it.”

“Volkswagen Type 2, 1973, I love it!” she exclaimed. “I call it my Big Blue baby. Gettin’ into Mexico was a little rough on her wheels, but she’s still got plenty of steam left in her.”

“After that breakdown at the edge of Arizona, I should hope so,” Finn added.

“Man,” Sean chuckled, “I came to Mexico and all I got was a stupid Mercedes.”

“You’re a Benz boy, too? Dude hold up, I’m gonna need to crack a beer for the rest of this!” Finn giggled, still trying to wrap his head around all the changes.

“Heard that!” Sean got up to lug his red cooler back from the porch and came back, passing out a round of Pacifico to his former Humboldt associates. Together, the three gathered in a circle and began catching up with stories about their lives, broken family ties, former loves, sporadic employment, and many travels. As Sean listened, it comforted him to realize that very little had changed among them. They were still all the same people for the most part, the same friends with the same dreams—just a little more lived, a little more grown. It felt a lot like coming home, in a sense. For the first time in a long time, he was beginning to feel at peace with the past.

Hours came and went freely, the day shifting into night. Before long, they had happily built sandcastles, chased each other up and down the surf, gone skinnydipping, smoked a few blunts, and eaten their fill of genuine tacos from a local takeout restaurant. Sean had showed them around the edge of town at dusk, leading them up and down the main boardwalk before heading home. The sunset shone beautifully that evening in lush shades of purple and pinkish hues. Clear blue waters merged with the endless horizon, eliciting a mix of warm and melancholic feelings at the day’s end. Cassidy spent much of those minutes at the edge of the pier writing songs on her guitar, while Finn wrapped an arm around the shoulder of their host as he sketched away, lost in thought. The sound of the waves beneath their feet had produced a rather hypnotic effect.

“You doing all right, sweetheart?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just a little beat. Thinking about the past, the present...everything but the future.”

“Sounds a lot like our Humboldt days, eh?”

“I never did want those to end,” Sean smiled, resting his head on Finn’s shoulder as they intertwined their fingers. The pungent aroma of weed still clung heavily to that boy, bringing back fond memories. “Still, I guess we all had our own dreams back then. Places to get to, people to meet. But now that I’m out here? I kind of wonder what I’m supposed to do with myself. Daniel’s gone. I mean, I thought I was doing this all for him, but in the end...I was just so fucking selfish, ya know? You tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. And now...” the boy trailed off, blinking back the tears in his eyes. “Stupid.”

“Sean,” Finn said firmly. “Sweetie, you have got to stop beating yourself up about it.”

“I know,” Sean nodded, taking a deep breath as he gazed back on the horizon. “I know.”

“Hey, I miss the little squirt too. Reminded me of me. Hell, there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you both. Wondering how you were doing, if you were ever gonna make it out or not. Especially after that shit I pulled. And for what it’s worth...I’m really sorry, Sean.”

“Oh please,” the boy chuckled. “I’m the one who went along with it in the first place. It’s my fault. And who knows, maybe I deserve this, or-”

“You shut the fuck up right now, Diaz!” Finn cut him off, grasping his chin as he looked him in the eye. “You know what you deserve? Every. Last. Fuckin’ ounce of love this world has to give you. Seriously! And your brother isn’t around to say this, so I will. I forgive you, Sean Diaz. I forgive you for doing what you thought was best for you both, even if sometimes, it turned out to be wrong. Because in the end, that kid knows you love him, and that’s the part he’ll take with him for the rest of his life. Ya know, I never did have a brother like you because my own were kinda shit, but...man, if I did? I’d certainly have killed to see him happy. Even if it was without me.”

“Thank you,” Sean smiled through tears, leaning into him.

“Don’t sweat it, laddie. He’ll come around sooner or later. Or you will. You’ll figure this out,” he said, squeezing his shoulder. “Promise.”

As they watched the sunset fade over the distant waves and held each other close to the sound of Cassidy strumming away on her guitar singing ‘Moon River’, Sean daydreamed about what Daniel might be doing if he were with them. Probably kicking and splashing away at the water, giggling as his brother tickled his stomach. Or maybe skipping stones across the sea as he ran up and down the docks, a new dog chasing behind him that vaguely resembled Mushroom. He could almost hear the boy’s happy laughter coming in with the waves. He could envision that cute smiling face that lit up every room. Munching down Chock-O-Crisps and marshmallows noisily by the bonfire, telling ghost stories with a flashlight pointed at his face, and at the end of the night, they would lie down holding one another as close as he and Finn were now. A perfect dream of a non-existent place. Enano. I love you.

Finn’s touch snapped him back to reality as a hand ran up his thigh, leading way to a deep kiss that made him forget all his troubles. A new sense of belonging rose, fell, and washed over his coarse being like the clear waters of the Caribbean at his feet, carrying with it the hope of things yet to come. It dug down to the core and reformed his shattered soul in ways he was at a loss for words to describe. And for those words he couldn’t find, Cassidy was there to string them together in peaceful, poetic song he could never have written himself.

“Whoa, down boys!” she chuckled. “I can leave, if ya’ll need to be alone for your moment, it’s cool.”

“You kidding?” Sean grinned, breaking their kiss. “You provide the perfect soundtrack, Cass.”

“Hell yeah she does, bring it in sister, we’re all about inclusion here!” Finn smiled, wrapping his other arm around her.

“Well, not all of us,” she sighed, glancing over at Sean. “I seem to recall you leaving me naked and alone down at the Eel River, thank you very much!”

“Oh give me a break, I was sixteen and self-conscious, okay?” Sean laughed. “Plus the whole hippie commune lifestyle was still pretty new to me.”  

“Ah, but you fit right in after awhile,” Finn said. “Especially after that naked forest run, eh?” the man poked him.

“Shit, I almost forgot about that,” Sean blushed.

“Naked forest run?”

“Oh, you know. Boys’ll do what boys do,” Finn grinned. “What’s wrong, you mad I got to see it and you didn’t?”

“Shut. Up!” Sean let out a laugh of embarrassment.

“Well color me curious now,” the girl smiled.

“Put it this way, even in the cold, he does not disappoint!”

“Okay, you’re both done,” Sean laughed.

“Not quite yet, sweetie. You need another warm-up round.” Finn kissed him again, deeper this time, eliciting ever stronger feelings that surged through Sean’s veins and drove him wild. He grabbed the back of his friend’s head and pulled him in closer, savoring the tastes of weed mixed with leftover hints of Juicy Fruit gum that Finn had developed a habit for in lieu of cigarettes. His palm scratched across the stubble on his jawline as he reached for the young man’s dreads, toying with them while their tongues danced. Just as Sean found himself getting rock hard, Finn pulled away. “Seems our company here feels a bit neglected,” he winked.

“Oh geez, you guys don’t need to involve me!” Cassidy said, half burying her face in her guitar. “I’m good, really.”

“Aw come on, Cass!” Finn nudged her. “You even said yourself this trip was about exploration and shit. Plus we got stuff to make it fun, right honey?”

“Yeah, almost forgot you made me smuggle drugs across the border,” the girl rolled her eyes and dug in her pocket to remove a baggie of multicolored pills with smiley faces imprinted on them. “Fresh-ass American import!” she chuckled, holding it up. “God, I hate this stuff.”

“That’s what you said last time, right before you went all alley-cat-in-heat on me!” Finn laughed.

“Not my proudest fuck, that’s for sure,” she giggled. “But at least I sweat it out.”

“Didn’t think anyone did ecstasy anymore,” Sean said, taking the baggie from her to examine the contents. “Isn’t Molly the new thing?”

“Oh that stuff is trash, trust me,” Finn assured him. “They can stuff whatever the hell they want in them capsules. Fuck you up worse than a bad acid trip. No man, good ol’ MDMA is where it’s at! Less tampering, more old-fashioned rave shit. Pure peace and love!”

Cassidy reached back over, snatching the pills from Sean’s hand.

“All right, but I need a beer first. Calm my nerves before we get into any heavy shit. Plus I got a new song for you guys, so...let’s just go sit by the fire and mellow out, ‘kay? Sorry Finn, I’m just...not in a party girl mood tonight.” She leaned on her guitar, looking sorrowfully out at the horizon.

“You all right, Cass?” Sean asked.

“Yeah,” she replied quickly. “Energy around here is just...different, is all. Something about it is stickin’ to me.” She set her instrument aside and drew up her legs, releasing her feet from the cool water as she stood and turned back for the beach, taking her guitar with her. Sean could sense something was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint what, but he assumed something had happened between her and Finn on the way down. He looked over at the rippling water where her toes had been. A clear plastic baggie floated to the surface, along with its contents of multicolored pills that were now fish food.

“What’s up with her?”

“She don’t like revisiting the past,” Finn sighed, staring at the drugs. “Too many bad memories. ‘An object in motion will stay in motion until acted upon by an outside force’, or some science shit like that. People ain’t no different, Sean. Cass lives her life in constant motion, always has. Until something stops her. After that thing with Merrill, she didn’t speak to me for almost a year. I helped her get out of some shit in Colorado, and we been travel buddies since. Humboldt gang up and left her. I didn’t ask why, but. She was in bad shape, livin’ with some old dude in a trailer.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. And,” the man shrugged, “I think she loved you. ‘Case you couldn’t tell. I think it caught her off guard. You gave her hope, ya know? Kept that fire ragin’ inside her. Pretty sure you did that for all of us.”

“Thanks,” Sean chuckled, somewhat bashfully. “But that was all Daniel. He’s the one who kept me going.”

“Sounds like he still is,” Finn said, patting his leg. He gazed into Sean’s deep brown eyes and Sean gazed back into those crystal blues, feeling connected, loved, cherished. “And sure, it might seem like you’re doing things for yourself now, but. It’s all about the bigger picture, right? At least that’s how I saw things when...you know. So don’t give up now, amigo. ‘Cause whatever keeps you in motion? That’s what’s worth hanging onto.”

They kissed again briefly, and Sean nuzzled into his warm neck as they held hands. Finn had caught him off guard, too. The love they’d been given a chance to resume seemed to provide him a sense of direction. A goal. A glimmer of light in the dark. Purpose. Grounding. But much as Sean wished his old friends could stay with him forever, he knew it wasn’t meant to last. And they wouldn’t want to. Especially not if he told them the truth about what he’d done to change his name, pay for his ocular implant, and get that beach house. It was either her or me. I had to choose...

“Well hey, you ready to build a fire and listen to our master songstress?” Sean asked, faking a convincing smile.

“Dude, after that philosophy sesh, I am sold!” Finn agreed.

The two rose and walked back up the pier, arm in arm as they gazed up at the unwavering constellations emerging above. Sean still envisioned Daniel at their side clad in rolled-up jeans and a hoodie, skipping stones or giggling at his own jokes while basking in the joy of their love for him like the southern sun. An eternal child, forever protected, forever warm, forever happy. Man, we’d be such a fucked up, happy little family. He and Finn as proud fathers, Daniel as their adorable little wolf cub. I think I know what I’ll sketch when we get to the fire.

“Wow, would you look at that!” Finn said, stopping to point up at the sky. “The wolf constellation Lupus is howling at us.” The way he looked onward, almost like a proud father, gave Sean goosebumps. “Yup,” he smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’ll see him again, all right. Just a matter of time, Seany boy!”

He held fast to that feeling as they raced back to the crackling fire and unfolded a pair of beach chairs to join Cassidy, who was already singing.

And though the roads I’ve drifted have well and passed me by,

All these sands I’ve sifted hold a gift...unrealized

When I asked ‘where are you going’

When I asked just ‘where you be?’

Seems neither you or I were knowing

The deeper scars we couldn’t see

So can I hold your eye? Your scattered dusty whys,

Can I fold your lips in mine? Howling child of the night...

Chapter Text

The room smelled of sex and weed that morning as Sean awoke to a tangle of sheets and two naked bodies cradling him. Arms, legs, and dreadlocks encircled his skin in a giant, flesh-like octopus. He opened his eyes. The skylight overhead had bathed the length of the bed in calming golden rays, spilling across his chest and stomach where the faces of Finn and Cassidy rested. Shit. What happened last night? Something solid and cold clinked over his foot, startling him. A half-empty bottle of vodka shifted into view at his toes, as well as a bong, an overturned ashtray, and another vacant bottle of tequila. That explains it. Pain began to hammer through his skull the longer he kept his eyes open. He peeled his tongue off the roof of his mouth and licked his dry, cracked lips.

“Gotta love dehydration. Ugh, god,” he whispered, sitting up and laying his friends’ heads down gently on the pillows on either side of him. He soon became aware of a mounting urge in his bladder and looked down. Soldier of fortune, sailing full mast. Time to get up and relieve you of duty, Captain Diaz. A shiny, dried glue-like trail that extended from his chest down to his stomach cracked and flaked off as he moved. Least it didn't get inside anyone. He gazed back on Finn’s sleeping face. A torn condom lay on the bed aside his cheek. That might not be good. As the piss urge in him grew overwhelming, Sean quickly rustled himself from bed and bolted for the bathroom. Once there, he stepped into the tub, placed his hands against the shower head wall, and leaned forward at an angle to empty himself.

“Shit,” he sighed, erection promptly deflating as steam rose from the yellow trail. Pain was still racking his skull, but he ignored it in favor of a quick shower. Now to check if I’m missing my...yep. The prosthetic. Sean finished up as fast as he could before darting out of the tub in a panic. He checked the sink area, then the cabinet below, then the vanity. Nothing. “Shit, shit!” he exclaimed, rushing out into the kitchen area, still dripping wet and naked.

“What are you all frenzied about?” Finn groaned from the bed.

“My fucking eye, dude!”

“Yeah, sorry about that buddy. Couldn’t resist the urge to get a little adventurous while you were asleep last night,” the man grinned, stretching.

“Finn, I swear to god-”

“Relax, sweetie,” he laughed. “It’s in a glass of saline by the uh, kitchen sink, ‘member?” he pointed. “Said it was best to put it away so it wouldn’t dry out on ya. Can’t say I didn’t think about firing off a few rounds in the wrong hole, though. That face of yours is awful cute.”

“Thanks I guess,” Sean said sheepishly, filling a glass of water to drink as he scratched his sun-kissed rear. “Any other surprises I should know about?”

“Eh, it was vanilla enough as threesomes go, if that's what you're asking. From what I remember, anyhow. Condom for Cass over there. Condom that broke...for me,” he giggled, removing the rubber stuck to his dreads. “Your stamina is hella sexy.”

“So there’s nothing to like...worry about?”

“Aside from Cassidy’s possible short-term regret? Nah. She got her tubes done. And me, well...I’m clean as an undersexed hippie.”

“I heard you, asshole,” Cass murmured into the pillows.

“Woo, someone’s awake!” Finn teased, poking her. “Rise and shine sweetheart, it’s Big Joe’s turn!” She dug a hand out from under her and flipped him off.

“Well uh...hey, I gotta run out and check on some stuff, but I’ll whip up my specialty Casa Diaz breakfast for you guys when I'm back,” Sean smiled, drying himself off with a towel from the dish rack. “Sound good?”

“Only if it comes with a side of that thick, juicy sausage of yours.” Finn was grinning like a boy who’d just hit puberty as he looked him over like a piece of meat. Sean shook his head in disapproval and marched to the bed, pelting him in the face with the wet towel.

“You know I’m not cool with being objectified, right?” he said, grabbing up his scattered clothes and getting dressed.

“So that’s why you left me at the lake three years ago,” Cassidy muttered.

“No. Actually,” Sean sighed, pulling on his xSquad hoodie and opting for his eye patch, “I was just a shy kid who was more comfortable getting naked around guys first. Not that that wasn’t a lapse in judgment either. I swear I hate this whole bisexual shit sometimes.”

“Oh come on, you love us!” Cass protested.

“Sweetie, you know I’m just playin’ around,” Finn added.

“You guys drive me nuts,” he chuckled, kneeling on the bed to kiss each of their foreheads. “But I love you both anyways.” Cassidy ruffled the thick mop of his hair and gave his cheek a playful slap.

“Go on, get!” she giggled.

“Be back in an hour.”

Sean exited the studio space and headed into the garage where the Mercedes he’d gotten from Mindi was parked, and had been for the last month. Driving wasn’t the biggest necessity in Cancún anyway, and his cash was quickly running out. Even paying for the safe he had stored it in was a cost he’d hoped to avoid, but with rampant tourism during the summer and gang activity in the area, it was best to keep it locked up. He knelt down in the far corner of the garage and punched in the numerical code—41107, Daniel’s birthday—and opened the door. Three small shelves lined the interior of the fireproof unit, in which he’d placed various items of importance aside from cash. Chris’s ‘Captain Spirit’ cape lay folded on top. In the middle was Daniel’s knit raccoon hoodie along with various drawings he’d made, his toys, the beach photograph of him he’d shown Mindi, his Washington shirt, and their father’s Puerto Lobos lighter. The familiar old backpack Sean had passed down to him during their journeys sat on the bottom, bulkier and more beat up than ever. It was easiest to store the cash in there. He quietly removed the weathered bag from its place and proceeded to count for the thirty-third morning in a row.

“One thousand...two thousand...three thousand...four thousand,” he sighed. After accounting for the full $10,000 he had left aside from what he’d exchanged for Pesos, he removed a hundred for groceries and stuffed it in his jeans. But he couldn’t close the door just yet. He reached back into the safe, hands trembling as he grabbed hold of Daniel’s hoodie and hugged it close to himself. It still smelled like him after he’d sealed it in plastic wrap for some time, though the scent was fading now. “Day One Thousand Forty-Six,” he whimpered. “I miss you, enano...”  He felt pathetic for engaging in such a sad ritual every single morning, as if his brother was dead, but he couldn’t help it. His soul ached to the core. No amount of sex, booze, or drugs would ever heal that. Only seeing Daniel again in the flesh. But maybe even then...

Two papers fluttered to the concrete from inside the fold of the sweater. Shit. Forgot I kept those. He had collected several ‘WANTED’ posters of him and Daniel along their journey. One was from America, and had artist sketches of them both. The other, however, read ‘BUSCADO – Por El FBI’, with his junior high school photo on it. He’d picked it up on the drive back to Puerto Lobos from Nogales after a drug run one morning, and the sight of it always sent shivers down his spine. But oddly enough, he’d never seen them around Cancún in the two years since, or anywhere else for that matter. No one seemed to recognize him in town, nor when he got the eye surgery, or when he’d bought the beach house, either—purchases during which he’d held his breath until his lungs burned.

He eventually assumed that at some point during his brief stint in the cartel, Gilberto had pulled some strings to get him removed from the public database to make their work easier. Still, it was no reason to be reckless. Being a ‘free man’ without the Polícia Federal watching also meant the cartel could feasibly snatch him up at any moment without consequence. With that in mind, Sean had bought a gun to carry on him whenever he went out.

“Wish I had your powers, bro,” he sighed, packing away the hoodie and posters to reach for the firearm in the back. He checked the chamber. Fully loaded. Safety on. Don’t point unless you intend to shoot someone. And for god’s sake, never keep it in your waistband unless you don’t want your dick anymore. Simple enough. Though considering the previous night, he felt like his dick was about to fall off anyway. Wouldn’t be the worst thing, after those two crazy hippies. He quietly shut the safe and headed out the side door of the garage, being sure he had his keys before locking it from the outside. Wish every day didn’t have to feel like a covert mission, he thought, pulling his hood up. He crept out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, where two children on bicycles startled him.

“Hola, Alejandro!” A young boy about eight years old stopped with his sister to greet him. The neighbor’s kids could be awfully chatty.

“Buenos días, Manuel,” he smiled.

“A dónde vas?”

“Estoy de compras. Tengo mucha hambre,” he replied, patting his stomach.

“Oh. Nosotras ya desayunamos hoy. Tengo que irme a casa. Ven la próxima vez, eh? Adios!”

“Adios.”

The children peddled away. He couldn’t help but see a bit of his brother in that boy as he waved back in the distance on his bike. Daniel had fallen off and skinned his knees too many times to count when he’d first taught him how to ride. Much as Sean wanted to go visit the neighbors as he had in the past couple years, he knew it was a bad idea. For one, he could only afford to stay in Cancún this one final summer, after which he’d rent out the beach house and return to Puerto Lobos. And two, it was becoming too much of a hotbed for cartel activity. I can’t risk endangering anyone’s lives out here if they come looking for me.

Sean dug out his phone and checked the clock. 8:46 AM. Just enough time to head down the next three blocks and catch one of the morning taxi rounds into town. He sprinted through the shoreline neighborhood past the more luxurious homes and down a small hill, then over to an intersection on the right where he quickly hailed a cab coming up on the stoplight. He assumed more boring conversation would await him inside, until he recognized the driver as Hector, a regular morning staple in the neighborhood. Hector was pretty decent at English due to all the tourists he transported in the area, so for once, Sean was grateful he didn’t have to think too hard on what he was saying.

“Ah, hola, Ale-Alejandro!” the forty-something driver greeted. “Hot like Mexico rejoice, eh? Haha!”

“That joke gets so old, dude,” Sean laughed, closing the door as he got in. “Kinda like you.”

“Oh, not even nine in the morning and you’re already a smartass! So where to today, my favorite American fugitive?”

Sean balked for a moment before remembering he had taken the liberty of telling this particular driver almost everything about him over the course of their morning runs together. Mexico was, overall, a lonely place to be hiding out in exile for this long. He’d kept everyone at arm’s length for a good three whole years out of either fear, necessity, or both, and there were few he felt comfortable enough to talk about his life with. As it happened, all the cab drivers he’d encountered seemed to keep quite a few customer secrets of their own anyway. He felt reasonably safe in trusting the man. Weird how cab drivers can be such great therapists.

“Grocery store as usual,” Sean replied as Hector began to pull away from the curb. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you coffee this time.”

“You better. I’ve been driving all night playing chauffeur to drunk tourist chicas who want to get white girl wasted all over my seats!”

“So that’s why it smells funny in here.”

“That and the burritos I had. Mess with my stomach, man. Just like that American shit they try opening down here now, uh what is it?”

“Taco Bell?”

“Yeah! Tried that once with mi hermano, worst cacas of my life. More like Taco Hell!”

“Can’t say I’ve ever had those problems,” Sean laughed.

“Of course not, you kids were raised on that crap.”

“True. Not so much into it anymore. I make my own food now. Keeps me busy.”

“Ah, bien, that’s the way to go, my friend. So how’s everything else?”

“Honestly...I don’t know,” the boy shook his head. “Not up for talking about it much today. Some old friends of mine came to visit. Good to see familiar faces, but. I can’t tell them anything. Feels like I just fucked up too much,” he said, leaning his head on the window. Damn. I say that a lot, don’t I? Outside, the scenery passed by them like a blurry photograph, drawing out memories of what felt like a never-ending time spent on the road.    

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned meeting people from around the world out here, it’s that no one fucks up too much for their friends and families,” Hector assured him.

“Yeah, but this is a vacation town. At least they can go back to their lives. I can’t.”

“Okay, let me ask you this. What did México look like for you, before you lived here?”

“Uh...freedom and safety? Peace to build a better life? Maybe the connection to my dad.”

“Land of dreams and opportunity, right?”

“In a way...yeah.”

“And now that it doesn’t feel like a vacation anymore, it sucks.”

“I guess I just feel out of place. It’d suck less if my brother was here.”

“Welcome to the experience of all Mexican families separated by the border,” the man sighed.

“Sorry. I guess when you put it like that, I sound like every other spoiled American kid, don’t I?” 

“Don’t be sorry for where you came from or the perspective it gave you. Just remember the sacrifices tu padre made for you, eh? It’s not easy to leave home. Everyone runs for some kind of reason, Sean. You’re no different. But if you have friends and family stick by you, that’s what home becomes. It’s what ties us together.”

“I guess you’re right. It’s just...this one feels too big.”

“Bigger than the struggles of people who get deported back every day? Probably not. I even pick up some from the airport. They’re ashamed, embarrassed even, to come back and face their familia. But the people here, they don’t see that. All they see is their courage, their strength. And at the end of it, they’re just happy to see their loved ones again. To be able to sit around a dinner table, to talk and eat with them. Look, I can’t say if it would be the same for you if you were to go back and face the music for what you did. But right now, those amigos of yours came all this way to see you, yeah? Maybe it’s worth telling them the truth.”

“Maybe,” Sean breathed, feeling a tightness in his chest. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Just don’t wait too long, or it’ll only get worse.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, remembering his neglect in telling Daniel about their father. “I’ve definitely been through that one before.”

As they drove further into town and the inevitable whirlwind of traffic, noise, and beach bodies that greeted them, Sean thought back on the many sins he’d committed to get where he was. The more time that passed, the harder it was becoming to tell how much of it he’d done for Daniel and how much had been for himself. Where does the line between us begin and end? he wondered. It all started with a border, and a dream that awaited us on the other side. But now I know...it was mostly my dream. How do I even begin to start living for myself out here? I always thought he might come with me. Shit just feels...empty.

The recent presence of Finn and Cassidy had forced him to reconsider the question of permanence, mainly because he no longer felt safe or comfortable with the idea. His three years in Mexico had so far consisted of scraping by, doing odd jobs to keep himself busy or the house afloat, and that unsavory cartel work he’d started from. It was beginning to feel less like an existence and more like survival—which was the very thing he’d come to Mexico to avoid. Additional targets had been placed on his back along the way too, and it seemed wherever one was removed, another took its place. If it wasn’t the Polícia Federal, it was the cartel. Or vice versa. I wonder how many targets Mindi has on her. Not that I give a shit.

Mindi. Otherwise known as ‘Melinda Eugenia Whitcomb’. The pretty young girl in the bar with brunette hair and eyes like the ocean who’d needed saving. The one who had lied to his face. The one who appealed to his deepest sense of empathy. The one who faked her own kidnapping and, presumably, death. The one who had almost destroyed whatever life he had left after she skipped town. Her. She lied to him.

Sean had quickly realized the truth only minutes after her departure—the money she’d left him with wasn’t meant to cover his severance from the cartel at all. It was just enough to pay off her father’s debts, which would have left him a slave to them forever. She was counting on him being stupid enough not to check the stacks of bills. Half of them were counterfeits or blank filler. So Sean had a choice to make. Either he could deliver the money to the Sonora cartel, fakes and all, look stupid, and possibly get himself killed for screwing them. Or he could do exactly as she’d said. Build yourself a new life, Sean Diaz. Get yourself a bangin’ beach house in Cancún. He chose the latter.

And yet, for whatever reason, every single day...he still felt guilty for all of it. Even as he stepped out of the taxi, walked to the grocery store, got what he needed, and removed the hundred dollar bill from his pocket.

But an hour later, none of that would matter anymore.

*          *          *

Sean, Finn, and Cassidy knelt in silence on the thinly-carpeted floor of the upper office at La Serpiente de Cascabel—a local strip joint—with their hands zip-tied behind their backs. Guns pointed at them from all directions. Up on the far wall above the desk, a small clock counted down the agonizing seconds until Gilberto Garcia would arrive, providing the only sound cutting through the thick tension present in the room. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Sean could taste the salted sweat running down his face in torrents. Neither of his friends dared to look at him. Not surprising in the least.

“Well this ain’t a familiar situation,” Cassidy bit with sarcasm. “Mind tellin’ us what the hell is goin’ on, Sean?” He didn’t answer. “Thought so.”

For the past hour, he had tried to figure out where it all went wrong. After getting out of that taxi, everything seemed like a blur. I knew I shouldn’t have told Hector shit. All he remembered was walking out of that grocery store, getting picked up, then driven into an alleyway. Suddenly, Hector was shot dead, and Sean found himself being dragged from the car before he even had the chance to think about reaching for his firearm. From there, they’d taken him back to the beach house, keeping a gun trained on him as they collected Finn and Cassidy. Now, here they were. Again. Flashbacks of Merrill’s hut played back in Sean’s mind, and he was sure the same was happening for his friends, even as they kept their eyes on that fated clock.

“Uh...so remember that rich girl I told you about?” he breathed. “Pretty sure it’s about the money she gave me. I sorta...kept more of it than I should have. All of it.”

“What the fuck, man! You didn’t learn your lesson from Merrill?”

“She fucked me over, Cass! The cartel wasn’t going to let me go, it was just enough to pay herself off! So yeah. I took the money, bought myself a new life with a new name. It’s been two years, okay? I didn’t think they’d catch up to me now!”

“Cállate!” a guard shouted, smacking him in the back of the head with the butte of his gun. Sean fell face first to the floor, where rug burn stung his right cheek.

“Well that plan worked out awful nice, didn’t it? I swear, you and Finn deserve each other. Always roping innocent people into your shit!” She glared mercilessly at their dreadlocked friend, who turned to the left wall to avoided her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Sean said, struggling up from the carpet.

“Whatever, man. I knew it was a mistake to come down here. You haven’t changed one goddamn bit. Selfish prick. Good thing Daniel’s not involved this time.”

“Uh...why? I mean,” Finn ventured with a shrug, “Not to speak for present company or nothin’, but I’d kinda like to get the hell out of here.”

“Oh shut the fuck up Finn, for once in your life!” Cassidy rolled her eyes.

“What? Ain’t it true?”

“You always got some stupid thing to say at the worst fuckin’ times! No one cares. God!”

“I care,” the man said quietly. “I always cared, you just didn’t want to see that.”

“HEY!” another of the guards shouted. “How many times we have to tell you coños to keep it quiet, eh? Fuck!”

“Like I said,” Cassidy muttered. Slow, muffled footsteps could be heard thumping up the stairs beyond the closed door.

“I just want to say, I deeply regret allowing you to take part in me and Sean’s special union last night,” Finn said, clenching his teeth. “I regret that very much.”

“Oh please,” the girl scoffed. “You guys ain’t got nothin’ special.”

“Yeah, all right sister. And what do you got? Care to tell him your sob story about the Humboldt crew leavin’ your ass?”

“Like they didn’t leave you too,” she muttered.

The door finally opened behind them, and a slightly overweight, middle-aged Mexican man with a thick mustache and gray suit entered. His particular brand of cologne wafted through the humid, dust-ridden air of the office as he crossed around the trio, making it more difficult to breathe than it already was. Sean eyed him nervously as sweat began to soak into his clothes. It had been two years since he’d seen the man, but he looked much the same. Maybe just a little fatter. Gilberto grabbed a cigar from the box on his desk and lit up, pulling over a chair from the side of the room to sit dead center in front of them.

“Sean, Sean, Sean Eduardo Diaz,” the man grinned, leaning forward. “Been a long time amigo, no?” he chuckled before turning serious. “You really fucked up.”

“Yeah,” the boy whispered and bit his lip, avoiding his gaze.

“Where’s my money, Sean?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Hmm,” he smiled. “See, I think you do.” Gilberto nodded to one of his guards, who stepped forward and yanked Cassidy’s head back by her dreads. She yelped as the barrel of a pistol dug into her neck.

“Let go of me!” she panicked.

Sean looked back at the man with a cold stare.

“Go ahead. I don’t give a shit.”

“Mmhmm. Next,” he commanded. The other guard kicked Finn to the floor and stood over him, placing his pistol square against the boy’s temple. A gasp caught in Sean’s throat as he looked over at the only friend he seemed to have left. His heart began thudding in his chest.

“Don’t do this,” he clenched. “Please!”

“Oh ho, we’ve got a winner!” Gilberto exclaimed, waving for his guards to stand down. “Wouldn’t have taken you for un maricón, but you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Diaz? I’m going to ask nicely this time. Where is my money?”

“All right, fine!” the boy cried, gasping for air. A mixture of sweat and tears stung his face. “It was that Mindi Whitcomb chick. Jorgé helped kidnap her, but she said it was all a ruse to get me to kill him. She said you wanted him gone because of shit he knew about your daughter. So I did,” he admitted. “I killed him. And after I took her home, she gave me a bunch of money. Said it was to pay off her father’s debts and buy me out. But she lied. It wasn’t enough for both.”

Gilberto stood up from the chair and leaned forward to grab Sean by the hair. Christ, I knew I should have kept the buzzcut.

“Where...is...my...money?!” the man spat heat and cigar smoke in his face. Sean’s expression twisted into one of pain and humiliation as he cried. He willed himself not to, but it came anyway. Maybe it was panic, desperation, a multitude of things. But all he could think about in those moments was that he might never see his brother’s sweet face ever again. That was the most painful thing of all, and the only reason he ever feared for his life.

“I spent it!” the boy choked. “I just wanted a new life...a new house, a new name, anything to get away...but I’m not sorry.”

“Mmm,” Gilberto squinted, nodding. “But you did kill Jorgé for me, eh?”

“Yes,” Sean swallowed. “He couldn’t be trusted...right?”

“That is true,” the man said thoughtfully, letting go of the boy and pacing back to his chair. “This, I must consider into your debt. You did do me a valuable service in that much. As for the Whitcomb girl, she seems to have left the country, but we will deal with any loose ends, that I can assure you. She fucked us both. But that still leaves the problem of forty-thousand dollars missing on your end, after the ten thousand we retrieved from your safe, of course,” Gilberto said, sucking on his cigar. “So...how do you propose we go about solving this little dilemma, eh?”

“I don’t know,” Sean hung his head. “But whatever you need me to do...I’ll do it,” Sean said. “Or you can kill me. All I ask is that you don’t hurt my friends. They had no part in it.”

“I see...well. I know you don’t like drug runs or trafficking, and to be honest, I wouldn’t trust you with it anyway. But suppose there is a way you can feel as free as you want,” the man thought, scratching his mustache. “Somewhere remote enough that wouldn’t draw the attention of the Polícia Federal...ah!” he snapped his fingers. “You never did reopen your father’s auto business in Puerto Lobos, did you?”

“No,” the boy shook his head. “Never did learn enough about cars.”

“Who says you have to? Here’s how this is going to work, Señor Diaz,” Gilberto smiled, ashing his cigar on the floor. “We will bring all the business to you. Stolen vehicles mostly, perhaps some new ones. You fill those up with product and send them on their way. Upholstery, tire wells, I don’t give a shit, you just hide it out of sight. When we get paid for the shipments, we deduct it from your debt,” he shrugged. “Y ahí lo tienes! Very simple. Of course, it’s best you do legitimate repair work to keep the books.”

“I got ya covered on that, sweetie,” Finn nodded at Sean.

“Finn, no!” Sean protested. “I’m not dragging you into this with me.”

“Yeah Finn, listen to the lil’ gutter trash,” Cassidy remarked. “This is his shit. Not ours.”

“Dude, just hear me out. I ran a chop shop before with my brothers, right? Way I see it, this ain’t gonna be much different. I’m with him.”  

“Aha, oralé!” Gilberto chuckled. “You see? Perfecto.”  

“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “So that’s it, huh? You’re gonna stay with this asshole after he almost got us killed? And after you risked your ass to save me? I can’t believe how pathetic you two are.”

“I almost got us killed once too sister, in case ya forgot. But I love him, Cassidy,” Finn glared at her in earnest. “Which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you right now.”

“Whatever, just get me the hell out of here,” she whimpered. “Congratulations. Ya’ll both broke my heart, ya know that? God, I just want to go home! Wherever the fuck that is...”

“Déjala ir,” Gilberto waved. One of the guards cut off her zip ties. She quickly stepped to her feet and tore open the door.

“Sure hope you’re proud of yourselves! I really thought you were better than all this, especially after all we been through together. But I guess that counts for nothin’, right? Fuck you both!” she cried, slamming the door behind her.

Sean squeezed his eyes shut. Pain shot through his chest as he heard Cassidy run down those steps and out of his life forever. He never intended for things to end up like this. ‘Maybe it’s worth telling them the truth,’ Hector had said. Yeah right. The truth is probably what got him killed. But much like Daniel, Sean felt it was better that Cassidy lived the rest of her life hating him than for her to wind up dead. The sensation of the zip ties slipping off his wrists and a tender hand grabbing his forced him to open his eyes again.

Finn looked over at Sean with a reassuring smile. That was all the confidence he needed. Well, maybe Hector was right about one thing. I still have someone I can feel at home with who will greet me with open arms every day...

“So,” Sean asked, turning to Gilberto, “when do we start?”

Chapter Text

Catalina Garcia stirred beneath the covers as her alarm clock went off again. Her dark brown hair lay in a tangled, unkempt heap over her face. Drool dripped out of her mouth over chapped lips, leaving a cold wet spot on her Hello Kitty pillow. As she finally returned to a state of half-consciousness, she could already hear her seven year-old cousin Carlos running through the halls outside her door, annoying his sister Rosa. Her Aunt Vanessa chased after him as she always did, though never seemed successful at reigning the boy in. Suddenly, her door flew open and Carlos bounded over. Several Nerf balls pelted her in the head.

“Levántate y brilla, Catalina!”

“Mmm..ugh, you little shit!” she yelled, pounding the snooze button and falling off her bed onto the hardwood floor. “Ouch.”  

“Haha, tu cara se ve horrible!” the boy laughed, running out the door and slamming it behind him.

“Y te ves como un perro!” she called.

“Carlos, Catalina, bajar a desayunar!” Tia Vanessa shouted up the stairs. “And you’d better not miss the bus!”

“Yeah,” the girl sighed. “So excited for the first day of school.” She peeled herself off the floor just in time for her alarm clock to start blaring again. “You kidding me?!” she groaned, diving between her bed and dresser to tear the plug out of the wall. Everything needs to just shut the hell up. For the briefest of moments, the whole house went quiet. Catalina closed her eyes. “Please just let me savor the silence,” she whispered. A blood curdling scream came from the end of the hall, followed by more of her Tia's yelling.

“Damn it, I told you to get downstairs, for the last time!”

Catalina rolled her eyes. “So much for that.” She quickly slipped out of her pajama sweatpants and Firewalk tour shirt to change into her choice of outfit for the day: a loose white tank with a large, fiery phoenix emblazoned on the front that she’d cut to accommodate her growing chest, torn faded blue jeans, and a red plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She then headed to the bathroom, where she brushed her hair into a semi-straight condition and began the arduous process of assessing her face in the mirror. Small bits of acne were creeping into her forehead, but not enough to ruin her day just yet. She settled for light foundation and lip gloss, finishing it off with a touch of winged eyeliner and small gold hoop earrings. “Hair needs more work,” she sighed, plugging in the straightener.

“Catalina, breakfast, now!” Tia Vanessa called for the thousandth time. Every morning seemed to go that way. At seven, she’d wake up to Carlos causing chaos, listen to her aunt yelling and Rosa slamming doors, and usually her older cousin Santiago hogging the bathroom or judging her appearance at the breakfast table. She assumed it would be the latter today. Literally anywhere is better than Beaver Creek with these idiots.

“I’m coming! Can’t a girl do her hair first?” she shouted back. Tia Vanessa was already charging up the stairs after her. Oh yay. Another morning talk about my dad and what they expect from me living here, she thought. Or boys. Or the importance of doing well in school. Probably all of the above. Can’t wait to be away from them for eight hours.

“Cat,” her aunt huffed as she leaned against the doorway.

“What do you want?”

“Tu padre llamó esta mañana. Said he wants to speak to you tonight.”

“Cool. I don’t want to talk to him,” she replied, fixing her eyeliner in the mirror.

“You sure? He hasn’t heard from you in months.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“Would it kill you to at least get him off my case just this once? Huh?”

“Yes. You know he’s going to ask me to do shit for him. Plus I’m sick of being cooped up in this house all the time. Can’t I have my own life? América es la tierra de libertad. So where’s my freedom?”

“Please just work with me here,” Vanessa sighed. “It’s not fair, I get it. But you know his line of work doesn’t make things easy on any of us, either. Besides... los federales se han ido. We can breathe a little easier now.”

“That’s nice. Until they come back and deport my ass, right? But I’m sure you’re already planning una gran fiesta for when that happens. Órale!” she mocked.

“Oye, mija--sobrina,” her aunt corrected, but the girl had already unplugged her flat iron and skirted past her attempted embrace.

“Yeah. I'm not your daughter. And don’t even think about hugging me!” She turned the corner and proceeded down the stairs to snag whatever breakfast was left before Carlos could start hogging all the waffles, or before Santiago poured the rest of the scrambled eggs into his disgusting mouth direct from the pan. One of the two always seemed to happen.

“You still taking your meds, at least?” Vanessa called down the stairs.

“Ha!” Catalina faked a laugh. “Yeah.”

“I swear I cannot deal with you anymore!”

The young girl bounded down the steps and headed for the kitchen. Scents of freshly cooked bacon and burnt toast greeted her from afar. Sure enough, Carlos was pouring maple syrup in his mouth, while Santiago stood at the counter sucking down a protein shake. A container of premixed pancake product sat aside the stove, along with a carton of orange juice with a few drops left. She checked the time on her phone. Ten minutes before we have to catch the bus. Guess it’s Pop-Tarts today.

“Oh hey, it’s the illegal immigrant,” Santiago quipped. “Quick, call ICE, bro!”

“Wee-ooo, wee-ooo! ICE!” Carlos giggled, pelting a frozen cube at her shoulder.

“Oh, that’s so funny I forgot to laugh!” Catalina rolled her eyes and began rummaging through the cabinets for her emergency breakfast stash. “Morning, Santiago. Protein shakes still giving you constipation?”

“Not as much as your face. You look like shit today, Cat.”

“Likewise.”

“At least she doesn’t flex her muscles on TikTok, ya weirdo!” Rosa said from the table, chewing on a sausage link.

“Not my fault chicks dig these abs,” the tall boy grinned, lifting his shirt.

“Maybe you’d actually have a girlfriend if you had the brains to match!” Catalina scoffed, smacking him upside the head. “Did you eat all my Pop-Tarts again, by the way?”

“Nope,” Santiago said with his mouth full, crumbling a foil wrapper behind his back.

“Dickhead.”

“American citizens first,” he shrugged. “Plus I need my energy for basketball tryouts today.”

“Bet you’re looking forward to all those boys, balls, and steamy locker room sessions,” Catalina smirked, swiping the protein shake out of his hand. He tried to snatch it back, but she walked away holding it high over her head triumphantly as she tore a piece of toast from Carlos’s grasp for good measure. “Oh look, the dirty Mexican chica just stole your breakfast!” she exclaimed, biting into the toast. “Mmm, so good. Thanks for your contribution to making America great again.”

“That was my last shake, you bitch!” Santiago shouted, punching the doorframe as he charged after her.

“HEY!” his father raised his voice over the blaring TV from the living room. “How many times I have to tell you not to punch my wall, eh? And let your beautiful cousin eat, she’s a guest in our home! No more hogging the breakfast, or I’ll eat every last one of your protein bars, comprendé?”

“Gracias, Tio Jesús,” Catalina smiled on her way to the door.

“De nada, sweetheart.”

He continued flipping the channels as she grabbed her backpack at the front door, finally settling on a breaking news report from CNN.

‘Shocking developments from London today, police reports of a body washed up on the South Bank area of the Thames River. Coroners have identified the victim as that of twenty-four year-old Melinda Eugenia Whitcomb, a popular makeup vlogger, socialite, and heiress to the Whitcomb fortune, who vanished two years ago under mysterious circumstances in the Mexican city of Santa Ana. Foul play is not suspected at this point, however sources say the cause of death has yet to be determined. More news on this and more, coming up at eight.”

Catalina slung the bag over her shoulder and paused. An odd feeling overcame her at the mention of a missing high-profile person in Mexico. Much as she wanted to believe her father had nothing to do with it, the entire Fuentes family was at least somewhat aware of his line of work, and certainly no one knew it better than her. A twinge of guilt racked her stomach at the thought. She had assisted Gilberto on numerous occasions with her unique abilities after all, and starting when she was eight, he’d made good use of them in a variety of situations. Situations like finding the validity in statements of those he employed in his circle, to uncovering their hidden past. Calculating the moves they would make and when, based on their mental and emotional state. Which choices would lead to success, and which to failure. Who could be trusted, and who brought hidden dangers lurking in the dark. All it took was a touch.

In the beginning stages, she didn’t have full control of it. In fact, she barely understood her own clairvoyance. Her powers were a complex and ever-evolving thing. And though her father had applauded her efforts—even when those efforts turned chaotic, even when they accidentally hurt people or put them in a permanent coma—she’d come to hate herself for it. Him, even more so. ‘It’s just the cost of doing business,’ he would say. Once things had taken off enough for him and he sensed her getting rebellious, he’d had her shipped off to the States to live with her aunt and uncle for greater protection of them both. And though she hated Beaver Creek at first in so many ways, she had to admit...something about it had drawn her there.

Whether it was the voices of those on the other side or not, she couldn’t be sure. But she felt something palpably different in the air. Like the dead were speaking to her, crying out to be heard. Like everything that caught her attention, no matter how small, was all tied together in some kind of infinite web. A connection was there somewhere. She just couldn’t put her finger on it yet. Catalina shivered in the cold crisp of the morning fog as she waited for the bus and tried to recall her dream from the previous night.

I keep having this vision of two wolves running up a mountain of skulls. One falls, and the other howls. What does it all mean?   

*          *          *

Catalina had followed Santiago onto the bus labeled ‘12’. After a few moments of bickering at the stop, he finally agreed to let her sit next to him, as public school in the United States was a fresh experience that vastly differed from the homeschooling she had received thus far. She hated to admit that she felt protected with him around, but being fifteen and five-foot-nine came with slightly more advantages than her five-three frame allowed. A chorus of whispers and hushed voices greeted them as her cousin selected a seat and slid close to the window. Being Mexican in a predominately white northwestern town still made Catalina feel out of place, even if Santiago was reasonably popular for his athletics and pretty face. Chill, Cat. You’re just new here, she thought as she took the aisle side.

“You all good, cuz?” the boy said, avoiding her glance.

“Yeah.” She sunk back and pushed her knees up against the seat in front of them. The brakes on the bus hissed as the door rolled closed up ahead. Once the last kids had taken their seats, the vehicle continued on out of the upper middle-class section of town and down the hill to the lower. All the while, Santiago looked over to check on her periodically, which Catalina did her best to ignore. Their familial relationship was an odd one that seemed to hinge on some level of unspoken caring between them, much in the same way she assumed siblings experienced. He would never show it in public of course, but she knew he cared.

Several stops came and went as the bus drifted through the fog, making Beaver Creek seem like a much more alien place than it otherwise was on a clear morning. Dawn was breaking over the eastern horizon, exhuming the faintest orange rays beneath a clouded navy blue sky. Catalina dug around in her backpack for her AirPods before realizing she’d forgotten them on her dresser. Stupid Carlos just had to distract me with his Nerf gun. She briefly considered playing music through her phone’s speaker, but she wasn’t about to draw any more awkward gazes to herself than she was already getting. The bus soon stopped again, and the sound of childish laughter filled the air as two young boys—one dark-haired and the other, blond—plodded down the aisle past her and took a seat on the opposite side further to the back. An odd feeling stirred in her gut again. That one boy with the dark hair. He looks almost like us. Is he...? She ventured a look back. His skin was a few shades lighter than her own golden tones, but...he’s got to be.

“Hey San,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s the Latino?”

“How the hell should I know? I don’t really make it a point to associate with kids in the lower grades. Not good for my image. Especially if they’re fags.”

“So you know who he is?”

“I mean, I know of him, I guess,” the boy sighed, taking a discreet look back. “Him and that Chris kid are annoying as hell. Think his name is Daniel or something.”

“Daniel...” the girl trailed off, closing her eyes. Something about him. Something about that name sent shivers up her spine, though she didn’t know why. She thought back to her dream from the previous night of the young wolf howling, and the older one that chased after him. Images of wind, sands, heat, and blood-matted fur swirled in her mind. Forever running through darkness, over mountains and valleys, canyons and deserts, forests and villages. Open plains. An eye watched over them from above, ever still, ever drifting through clouds like the sun through that navy blue morning. And the howls, the howls like human screams. Then the rushing of the river beneath her feet, carrying with it a chorus of ancient voices...

“Please don’t tell me you’re doing your whole superpower, spaced-out thing again,” Santiago groaned.

“What superpower thing?” the girl said, snapping herself back to reality.

“For Christ’s sake, you know what I mean!” he rolled his eyes. “If my dad catches you doing that, you’re done here! Just stop.”

“It’s not like anybody knows. Except you.”

“Yeah, well...my parents know you were diagnosed schizophrenic and that you haven’t been taking your meds,” he shrugged. “Just saying, you might want to tone it down if you want to fit in around here. Or at least pretend like you’re taking the pills.”

“What the hell do you care, anyway?” she scoffed.

“I care, Catalina! Why else would I tell you to chill?”

“Because I scare you. But it’s fine, I get it. Everyone makes that pretty obvious, since you all treat me like I’m some outsider.”

“We don’t treat you like-”

“Oh really, all those immigrant jokes every morning?” she cut him off. “But I’m the one who needs to tone it down, huh? Sorry if I screwed up your cushy American white life, but-”

“Stop-”

“I know you want me gone-”

“I DON’T!” Santiago exclaimed. He said it loud enough that the whole bus went quiet for a moment. People looked in their direction a few moments before returning to their own business and conversations. Even Daniel and Chris looked over. Wow, Catalina thought. My cousin, this hardened jock jackass of a boy, just defended me. “No quiero que te deporten,” he whispered, gazing out the window at the blurring scenery. “And I'm not the one who...I don’t want you gone, okay?”

“Okay...” she relented. “Lo siento. Te quiero?” Catalina said, pouting her lips and leaning into his shoulder. He chuckled and gave her a reluctant smile as he put an arm around her.

“Te quiero, prima,” Santiago replied. He gazed around the bus for a moment with a concerned expression on his face, as if he’d said something forbidden. His arm slowly broke away from her shoulder. Quiet snickers and whispers echoed throughout the rows of seats, along with the occasional finger pointing in their direction. Must be our language, Catalina realized. Her cousin’s concern, she sensed, was quickly turning to anger. But before she could say anything, a young male voice spoke loudly from the back.

“Anybody got a problem with them?!” The dark-haired boy. “Because you’re about to have a problem with me!” The snickering and whispering immediately died down.

“Daniel, stop!” the blond boy seated next to him hissed quietly.

“No, Chris! They’re just trying to talk! How would you feel?”

“Um, like not getting the shit kicked out of me on the first day of school?” his friend said in a hushed voice. “Just...drop it for now, okay? Please. For me?”

“Whatever. I’m Mexican too. You don’t get to tell me to shut up!”

“Dude, that’s not what I’m saying! But you know we have enough problems because...”

“Yeah...fine.”

A sudden inexplicable urge struck Catalina in that moment, one she’d never felt before. The images were coming to mind again at a much faster rate as she listened in on their conversation and all the emotion behind it. All the pain, all the sorrow in that voice. Her fingertips began to itch. She had to do something. She had to move. A phrase entered her thoughts, one that seemed altogether meaningless on its own, and yet now held all the power in the world for her. Time to take the pen, dude.

Heart racing, she tore into her backpack and ruffled through her school supplies to dig out a hot pink spiral notebook and writing utensil. The black crayon would have to do. She flipped over the cover and set the book down over her bag, proceeding to scrawl the visions in her head that wouldn’t quit. The bouncing of the old school bus over every faint bump in the road made it difficult to hold still. But once she was finished, a full picture emerged of a wolf on all fours, howling in rage as a section of the border wall fell before him. Aside him sat the older wolf, looking on in pride, guiding and nurturing. She dropped the crayon.

“Whoa, that’s pretty cool,” Santiago observed. “Didn’t know you could draw.”

“I can’t,” Catalina breathed, somewhat in shock.

“Could have fooled me. Wait, what do you mean?”

“I can’t draw for shit unless it’s a copy of something. This isn’t mine. It’s somebody’s memory. Someone else drew this first.”

“Okay, you’re freaking me out.”

“We have to find out what it means,” she said, determined.  

“We? Cat, no!” her cousin replied firmly. The bus was pulling into the school parking lot. “Look, I know this kind of thing is important to you, but you’ve got to drop it, all right? Your dad sent you to live with us so you’d be s-”

“Safe, yeah, I know!” she finished. “I’m just a little sick of being protected and told what I can’t do. My dad always had me using my talents for his own bullshit. Now that I’m not his slave anymore, I just...there’s certain things I need to do for myself. And I think this is connected somehow. To something he’s doing, someone he knows. Hell, maybe it’s connected to me, I don’t know. But I need to figure this out. I need to, San.”

Her cousin sighed. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? Just promise me you’ll try to get through the first day of school without doing anything stupid.”

Catalina gave him a curt nod and packed away her notebook as the other students shuffled around them, grabbing up their belongings to make their way into the aisle before the bus parked. Once they reached the curb, she slid out into the traffic of students ahead of Santiago. The brief scent of gasoline mixed with rubber assaulted her nose when she hopped onto the sidewalk to greet the cold autumn air. This weather feels like murder on my face. Her cousin quickly caught up with her.

“You still have your schedule on you?” he asked.

“Si,” she sighed. “And I can’t wait for all the cringey introductions I’ll have to do after homeroom. ‘Hey, my name is Catalina and my father’s a Mexican drug lord’.”

“Maybe don’t tell them that part,” he laughed.

“Aw, why not? It’s the most interesting part about me, aside from my tits, which look, a bunch of guys seem to be staring at already!” She clenched her teeth and waved over his shoulder as a group of boys passed by behind him, looking her up and down.

“Hey, mamacita!” one of them grinned. Cat rolled her eyes.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll settle for singing La Llorona instead.”

“Hey, chorus tryouts are next week if you want to show off your Coco skills.”

“Think I’ll pass. Last thing I need to be known for is being a fucking chorus girl. That’d draw too much attention, right? Besides, I’m sure tu mamá will have me singing it enough for Dia de los Muertos,” she sighed. “Anyways...I’ll meet you for lunch?”

“Sure, if I can free up some space at the douchebag jock table,” he chuckled. “Text me if you need help getting around, okay?”

“I think I’ll manage. Nos vemos más tarde.” They shared a hug and a friendly cheek kiss before parting ways. Catalina shivered and checked her phone as she sauntered toward the doors. It seemed odd her father hadn’t bothered calling her on her own cell, though he probably felt it was too much of a security risk. God, I love being a national secret. On paper of course, she was Catalina Fuentes, and for all the feds knew, she was a cousin who had moved north from a legal relative of theirs in Arizona.

The journey had been somewhat harsh. First, she was taken by two hired ex-cons through an underground tunnel that led into a condemned fast food joint on the US border. From there, a car had picked them up with greater security detail that helped her obtain false documentation. She had traveled to Portland first to be handed off to a local gang, then did housework for one of their mothers before Tia Vanessa had picked her up when it was safe. After that, she was homeschooled and shuffled around to various house parties in the community to socialize, where she’d managed to make a few American friends. But as luck would have it, none of them went to Beaver Creek High. This would make a fun movie script. As she approached the door, she heard excited footsteps rushing up behind her.

“Hey, wait up!” a breathless voice called. Catalina turned to see Daniel rushing up with Chris trailing behind him.

“Oh...uh, hey,” she uttered, glancing over his clothing. Something immediately caught her eye in the top left corner. A wolf logo... 

“Hi!” he smiled. “I’m Daniel, and this is my boyyy...uh, my...my friend Chris.”

“Wow. Thanks asshole,” Chris said, scowling at him.

“Sorry dude, I wasn’t sure if she’s okay with gay guys!” Daniel whispered through grit teeth.

“You both know I can hear you, right?” Catalina chuckled. “And it’s fine. You’re cool, don’t worry.”

“Oh...” His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “Well then yeah. He’s my boyfriend,” he said, grabbing Chris’s hand.

“Real charming, right?” Chris smirked.

“So are you guys new here too?”

“Uh...I sort of am,” Daniel shrugged. “How about you?”

Catalina hesitated. “Well...let’s just say I get around. I-I mean...sorry, that came out wrong!” she laughed.

“It's fine!” Daniel chuckled. “We know what you mean.”

The trio continued through the doors at a leisurely pace as students crowded the halls, rushing to and fro to get to their respective homerooms on time. She savored the warm rush of air circulating around them, glad that the staff was sensible enough to dial up the heat for the season. Early fall felt more like late winter in the town of Beaver Creek, a fact that had taken some getting used to.

“Uh, so about what happened on the bus,” Daniel said. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with those assholes.”

“Eh, I’m kind of used to it by now.”

“You shouldn’t be. My dad was from Mexico, so. It happens to me sometimes too.”

“Gracias por defenderme,” the girl smiled. “Us dirty Mexicanos need to stick together, right?”

“Hell yeah!” Daniel grinned.

Catalina met his gaze for a moment before noticing his eyes wandering lower, at which point he quickly averted his eyes. Boys, she thought. At least he seemed more respectful than most. She'd known older men to outright gawk at her chest.

“Well h-hey,” Daniel stuttered, trying to save face, “if you need us to show you around, maybe we can hang out? I know this place like the back of my hand!” he sucked his teeth again as Chris dug his sharp nails into his knuckles.

“You know what?” Cat giggled, skipping ahead and turning to face them as she backed away. “You guys clearly got some love quarrel thing going on today and I’m not trying to get between you, so...maybe I’ll catch you guys at lunch?” she shrugged. “Hasta la vista!”

“Man, she is so cool,” she heard Daniel say under his breath as she walked away. “Ow, Chris, ouch!”

Catalina shook her head in laughter as she rounded the corner and continued on toward her homeroom. Despite the awkward first encounter, it felt good to have made two new friends who didn’t make her feel as strange about her adjustment to American life. The conversation had calmed her nerves, at least. And those guys were quite the pair. As she walked through the open door and found a mostly empty room—save for three other students—Cat selected a seat at a desk near the front, where she unzipped her bag to glance over the drawing she’d made again.

Now where have I heard of this story before?    

Chapter Text

Daniel sat listless at the lunch table, sipping on a red fruit slushie as his friends talked around him. Discordant voices came and went through his ears like waves on a distant beach. For the entire first half of the day, he’d caught himself tuning out in almost every class. Teachers would call his name several times in a row or bang on the whiteboards to get his attention. It felt impossible to focus on anything ever since that morning on the bus. There was just something about that Catalina girl that kept his thoughts in eternal limbo. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, no matter how hard he tried.

Chris sat beside him eagerly discussing Fortnite campaigns with Lucas, now that he had a decent computer to play on. He laughed several times. Daniel barely noticed, which he felt bad for. That boy’s smile had always lit up the room for him. The joy and happiness in his tender voice whenever he was really excited about something had been enough to give the young wolf butterflies in his stomach over the past summer. But all of a sudden, it didn’t seem to have the same effect. Oh man, he thought. Does that mean...is this what it feels like to grow apart? I hope not. I don't want to break up with him. He makes me so happy. His eyes absently scanned the cafeteria again, something he used to do a lot back when he first began to attend middle school in Beaver Creek. As if he was searching for something, or...someone. His skin was starting to feel hot and itchy by the time he finished his slushie. Once he felt his pulse elevate followed by rapid breaths, he knew what was coming. Holy shit. Calm down, dude.

“Uh...um,” he trembled, laying his hands flat on the table.

“Daniel,” Chris said, concerned. “You okay?”

“I don't know!” the boy grit his teeth. “Damn it, I haven’t had one of these in forever...” His heart was thudding fast in his chest now. Breathe it out.

“He used to get anxious when he started sixth grade,” Lucas clarified for Chris. “Dude, close your eyes, okay? Take deep, slow breaths. And hold some ice too, it helps.”

“That is not going to help!” Daniel said frantically.

“We’ve been through this together before, man. You can do it.”

“No Luke, not like this!” He felt his powers begin to extend themselves, out of his control. If I stay here, things are going to start floating. “S-Sorry! I really have to go...” Daniel rose from the bench and took off in a sprint out of the cafeteria, heading for the bathroom just down the hall. Laughter echoed among a group of girls as he passed by, then again from a group of jocks in the corner by a trophy case as they scrolled through Snapchat messages. Relax, they’re not laughing at you.

He turned a sharp left and burst through the door of the men’s room, where he hunched over the sink and twisted the knob for cold water, splashing some over his face. He gazed up into the mirror, focusing in on his eyes. His pupils were dilated. Enano, he thought to himself, straining to remember the sound of Sean’s voice. He was desperate for it. Enano, enano...fuck. He tried doing what Luke said and kept the water running, allowing the wet static to overtake his senses. If he could just focus on one thing in that moment of raging, skin-crawling desperation, everything would be okay. He shut his eyes and listened to the silence of the room. Slowly but surely, the pounding in his chest subsided. His skin stopped tingling. His thoughts became more aware and focused. His senses dialed themselves down. Okay. You’re okay. Daniel took a deep breath and opened his eyes as he exhaled.

A face suddenly appeared in the mirror. A face that was unmistakably his, but not his own. All of the features were there, but his hair was longer and disheveled, much like his Humboldt days. Smeared remnants of colored skull makeup covered his eyes, cheeks, and lips, spattered with fresh blood stains. The mirror cracked as the boy yelped in horror and fell back on the floor, causing the lights flicker out. His senses returned to high alert. Daniel pushed himself up and looked to the mirror again. A faint yellow glow washed over the room, as if someone had set a candle in a window. Muffled, echoing voices seemed to speak from the other side of the wall. The boy stepped to his feet and drew closer to the ambient sound, and the shadowy figures within. What the hell...

“You know you can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous,” a girl whispered. That voice. He knew that voice. Catalina? But she has an accent...

“I don’t care! Those cartel assholes should know better than to mess with me, or your family. I told you I’ll protect you guys, and I’ll do it again. I’d destroy anyone who got in our way. What’s going to stop us?” It was him. The boy he’d seen in his dreams on the way back to Beaver Creek those three years ago, the other version of himself that existed somewhere in a reality where Sean had died. El Lobo. Daniel drew closer to the mirror now, hunching over the sink as he looked through the bedroom window.

 “It scares me when you talk like this. How far are you going to go?”

“As far as I need to,” the boy scowled, pacing to the window and looking out, seemingly straight into his own reflection. But he didn’t notice Daniel on the other side.

“You don’t have to keep coming to our rescue, you know.”

“But I want to, Catalina. It’s not even a question for me.”

“Mi padre says we’ll be able to pay them off soon. Maybe even go to America.”

“Good for you. Wish I could go back. Hell, maybe in another life, I did. But here...you know I can’t.” The boy turned away from the window as Cat placed the candle on her dresser. “You’re just going to leave me too, aren’t you?” he said, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed.

“Come on, don’t say that.” She stroked his face, running her thumb over his cheek, her fingers through his hair. “You’ll always be my sweet little wolf boy.” El Lobo laid his head down in her lap and wept softly as she cradled him in her arms. “So...maybe I’ll stay.”

The lights suddenly came back on as the room sprung to life, and Daniel was left alone staring at his own reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his stance slightly and moved around. Touched his face, ran his hands through his hair, ruffled his clothes, slapped at his cheeks to be sure he was still looking at himself. He turned back and jumped at the mirror.

“BOO!” he shouted. Nothing. “God, this is stupid,” he breathed, going for the faucet again. “Get a grip, Daniel. She’s in your head, you’re just imagining shit.” He gazed over the large, window-like crack in the mirror for a moment, then checked the stalls. No one had seen or heard anything. Good. The boy moved for the door and quickly snuck out, only to bump smack into a petit young girl with hair and eyes the same color as his emerging from the bathroom opposite. Upon the brief flash of red plaid that crossed his line of sight, he realized who it was. Catalina. Shit!

“S-Sorry!” they said, almost in unison.

“Whoa,” she breathed. “Fancy stalking you here!”

“Uhh, h-hi!” Daniel laughed nervously. “I was um, just heading back to lunch actually.”

“Same here.”

“Yeah...”

“You been running a marathon or something?”

“What?”

“Your hair’s a mess and your face looks all sweaty.”

“Oh, uh...it’s just water,” Daniel panted, wiping droplets off his face.

“Breathless, too. You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, I just get...panic attacks sometimes. N-Not all the time, it’s not like that, just-”

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she cut him off.

“Oh no no, you’re fine! I-I’m...fine,” he said, forcing a half-smile. Butterflies were starting to invade and tickle the depths of his stomach now. His cheeks felt tight, and his heart began to pound in a much different rhythm as he looked at her, those striking eyes, that gorgeous figure, her golden skin, and that thick, straight hair. But why? He barely knew her, and yet he felt she was familiar in some way he couldn’t place. Like some distant part of him knew everything there was to know about her, and yet...nothing.

“Really?” she asked. “‘Cause you look more scared than a white family who just saw their first ghost.”

“Maybe I did...uh look, this is gonna sound crazy, but...I think I had a vision. Of you and me together. Wait! I-I mean-”

“That’s adorable!” Catalina laughed.

“That didn't come out right, I swear! Besides, I...I have a boyfriend.”

“Okay?” she shrugged.

“Look, what I mean is...I think I saw something in there. In the mirror.”

“Hmm,” her eyes narrowed, skeptical. “Well I guess we’d better check it out then,” she said, maneuvering around him to the restroom door on the other side.

“Hey, you can’t go in the boys’ room!” Daniel protested.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” Catalina pushed her way inside as he followed, knowing nothing was about to deter her. “Don’t worry, I see more dicks in the halls than in the bathrooms anyways,” her voice echoed.

“Guys whip their dicks out in the halls?” he asked in naiveté, prompting a laugh from Cat before he quickly realized what she meant. “Oh!” he chuckled. “You mean they are dicks. Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Damn, try to keep up!” she giggled.

“Sorry.”

“Whoa. Now check out that beauty!” She was referencing the large, cracked mirror in front of them of course, but Daniel found himself thinking something else. Yeah, he thought, stealing a glance at her rear. She’s quite a beauty. “Let me guess, you punched that in self-reflection like they do in the movies, right? Seven years bad juju, man.”

“N-No, I didn’t,” the boy stammered. “Well, I mean...sort of. It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about cracking a mirror?” she asked, looking back at him. “There’s pretty much only one way to do it.”

“...You’d be surprised.”

“Would I? Maybe you’re the one who’d be surprised about me. Hmm,” she smirked, looking back over the mirror. God, she’s so fascinating. Almost too fascinating. “What secrets do you hold?” She ran her fingertips lightly over the crooked scars in the pane, observing the vertical and horizontal lines that had taken on the shape of window sash bars. Daniel swallowed the budding lump in his throat at her question. What if she knows? She sounds like she does. And I can’t- “You can tell me what you saw now,” Catalina said, interrupting his thoughts as she crossed her arms and turned back to him.

But Daniel found himself at a loss for words at being put on the spot. Now, he was growing ever more uncomfortable with the idea of revealing his deepest secret to her. HIDE your power! Sean’s voice demanded of him, followed by another memory of something he once said himself. ‘Do you think there’s anyone else like me out there?’ At this point, he had to consider the possibility that his brother had been wrong. Maybe I’m not the only one...nah. No way. That’s impossible...right? The very thought began to scare him. Another form of anxiety shot through his body, one he couldn’t readily escape.  

“You know what?” Daniel sighed. “This is stupid. I was probably just panicking and thought I saw something for a second,” he shrugged. “S-Sorry...I should really get back to lunch.” The boy turned and bolted out the door. Catalina, however, wasn’t about to give up.

“Hey...hey!” she called, following him out in the hall as he took off with a spring in his step. She caught up quick. “Why are you freaking out? You DID see something!”

“It’s nothing, okay? Just forget it!” he snapped, charging down the hall.

“I felt something too when I looked at that mirror!” she admitted. “I don’t know what the hell you saw, but I felt it. You can’t say you didn’t feel it too. I know you saw something Daniel, so talk to me!”

“I didn’t see SHIT!” he whirled around, getting angry now. “Maybe I just needed an excuse to talk alone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Actually it isn’t!” He walked faster now, putting a good ten foot distance between them.

“Why do you always force yourself to run, huh?!"

Daniel stopped dead in his tracks as their eyes met. His mouth dropped open. He backed away slowly. What the fuck...those words...I said something like that once. To Sean. How? How could she know that...

“You just stay the fuck away from me, Cat!” he trembled.

“Whatever,” she huffed, sporting a glare that cut him as sharp as that glass back in the bathroom. “You should probably get back to your boyfriend anyway.”

“Yeah. I guess I should!”

The butterflies formerly held in his stomach were now beating their wings against his insides, tearing into his guts with razor-like precision at every step. Daniel stumbled as he turned back for the cafeteria. He broke into a run through the halls, twisting his body in uncomfortable positions along the way to avoid the scattered groups of oblivious students and lone outliers. Paranoid thoughts raced through his mind at what he’d just experienced. It was becoming quite clear that there was far more to this Catalina girl than met the eye, and all of it terrified him. He wanted to be close to her, yet wanted to avoid her. He wanted to find out why she made him feel so strange. But the answer to that question was equally worrisome. I can’t do this. I don’t need this. It feels like I just got the FBI off my case, I’m happy for once, and now she shows up. What the hell is going on?

After making it back to the cafeteria and catching his breath, Daniel looked around at all the students at their tables, arranged in various cliques and settings. Observing it like this, he felt so alien from everyone. None of them knew the details of his real story, and none of them ever would. At least not beyond anything a simple Google search might reveal. Life, for him, had been far stranger than most. It seemed it always would be. He shook his head as he continued back to the lunch table to join the rest of his friends. Please just let me enjoy the rest of my day with Chris, he thought. I don’t need any more surprises.

“Hey!” Chris immediately stood to embrace him as he returned. “You were gone awhile. You doing all right?”

“Yeah...just been really out of it today.” Better not freak him out with what I saw just yet. Or tell him about Cat. Definitely not her...

“It’s all good,” his friend said, planting a kiss on his forehead. “We were just worried about you.”

“I know. So...why didn’t you come check on me then? You usually do,” Daniel frowned, pulling away. And you could’ve distracted me from her.

“Eh...I've seen how you get when you're about to go Superwolf,” Chris explained. “Figured I shouldn’t make things worse. Plus come on Daniel, it’s not like you’ve paid much attention to me all day anyways, ever since Catalina and her tits walked in,” he rolled his eyes. Great, Daniel thought. Because that’s what I want to think about.

“Dude, where the hell is that coming from?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Chris, what the hell!”

“You think I didn’t see the way you looked at her?! That was like the first thing I got on your case about! You’ve barely acknowledged me since this morning.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I just had other things on my mind!”

“Clearly.”

“Would you get off my ass? It’s not like I like her!”

“Right. But you don’t even look at me like that anymore...” Chris’s voice cracked as he crossed his arms.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re in love with me dude, I don’t know, like you want me! But a pair of boobs walks in, and suddenly that’s so exciting to you?”

“Why do you have to make this about sex? I just met her, calm the fuck down!”

“Calm down, huh? Yeah, that’s pretty rich coming from you.” Daniel shot him a death glare, visibly hurt. “Sorry...cheap shot. But you were totally looking at her chest, so how’s that not about sex?”  

“Oh my god, I was not looking at her BOOBS!” Daniel said loudly.

Lucas’s eyes went wide at the table as he dropped the Hot Pocket he’d been scarfing down. Several kids turned in their seats to watch them. Their other friend Natalie huffed and stormed away with her lunch tray. Daniel looked over the sea of faces staring at him now and gossiping to their friends. Several students scooted subtly in their direction and whipped out their phones to prepare for an ensuing fight. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction.

“Look Chris, can we just talk this out? You’re the one who didn’t want to draw attention us.”   

“Oh, so you think I want attention now?”

“I think you’re acting a little jealous, yeah!” Daniel inched forward.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means. I’m allowed to make other friends, dude!”

“That’s not even the issue!” Chris frowned. “Man, why do you still want to be with me? You act like we’re not even together anymore half the time.”

“It’s not that! My grandparents can't find out and neither can your dad. Plus you know I’ve had a lot of shit to deal with, right?” Daniel said, tearing up. “And this is exactly why I hate talking about any of it with you, because you end up making it all about yourself. Sometimes it’s just not about you, Chris!”

“Yeah, well not everything is about you either, Daniel! I know you probably get sick of saving me all the time,” Chris said sadly. “But it’s not like I had the best night with my dad yesterday. Not that I was gonna mention that, because I was just hoping for a good first day at school with my boyfriend so I wouldn't have to think about it. I just needed some extra love from you today, okay?!” he cradled himself, eyes falling to the floor. “That’s all.”

Daniel immediately backed down, glancing at the many tables and students that surrounded them. Most were quickly growing bored at the apparent lack of escalation. Smartphones went back in pockets or switched to various apps as they turned back to their meals and their own conversations. Now he just felt bad. Damn, I've been selfish. How did I not notice he’s been hurting? He’s been holding himself like that for most of the day, and all I’ve been thinking about is Catalina. Daniel moved forward and embraced Chris, who did the same for him.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said, kissing his blond friend’s neck. Just above the neckline of his shirt at the back, Daniel noticed light black and blue marks extending upward. He frowned. One of these days, Charles is going to get worse from me. As they held fast to one another, he surveyed the room behind Chris to make sure none of the usual homophobes were plotting anything. Off in the distance, something red caught his eye. Catalina had just risen from the jock table, breaking away from her brother, who looked angry at her. Oh shit...maybe I was kind of an asshole to her, too. Hope she’s okay.

“I’m sorry too,” Chris conceded as they let go. “Guess I just overreacted.”

“No dude. You were right,” Daniel admitted, taking the boys hands in his. “I haven’t been paying attention to you like I should, and you just wanted to have a better day, I get it. And just for the record, I really don’t get tired of saving you, okay?” he smiled, swinging their arms together. “It’s kinda my thing.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Chris chuckled, looking up into his eyes.

“And...since we could both use a little break...how ‘bout we go on a date to the movies this Friday?”

“Seriously?” his friend blushed.

“Totally!” Daniel grinned. “I’ll pay for you. Well...technically my grandparents will, since I’m fourteen and can’t get a job yet.”

Chris laughed. “But this is gonna to be a real date this time, right? Not like one of those cheesy, middle school, ice cream shop-”

“Aw, hell no!” Daniel exclaimed as the school bell rang, and the two separated to collect their bags. “We’ll get a REAL dinner, too. Might be half-price appetizers at Willie’s, but-“

“Half-price appetizers at Willie's sounds great,” Chris grinned. Daniel kissed him on the cheek.

“Dude, it’s gonna be so awesome! You'll love it, I promise.”

Daniel wrapped an arm around him and playfully gnawed at his neck, making monster noises on their way toward the entrance as he formed more intricate plans in his mind. Chris simply laughed and nuzzled his head warmly against his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, Daniel was beginning to feel content in their love again. The cloud nine feeling he’d experienced upon their first kiss the previous summer had at last returned with full force, easing his tender nerves.

But as they shuffled out through the doorway with the crowd of other students, there was Catalina again, her back against the wall of the rotunda with one heel propped up as her brother ranted something at her in Spanish. He seemed to be tearing mercilessly through her notebook, pointing at various drawings. Wonder what the hell his problem is. In a brief moment, she gazed up in Daniel’s direction as if desperate to be noticed, but he immediately averted his eyes and quickened his pace down the hall with Chris.

Not now, Cat. Sorry, but I have a boyfriend to think about...

Chapter Text

Catalina sat in the back of health class, drumming her fingers incessantly across the surface of her desk. She had been observing them for some time now. Few of the spectres were alive in this world, and yet she could sense them all the same. As she gazed anxiously around the room at the other students, the many ghosts of their alternate parallel lives haunting her, all she could think about was ridding herself of the visions. Art—even if it wasn’t her own creation—always seemed to help more than words. Shit. I could really use something to draw on.

Her cousin had ripped the notebook out of her hands during lunch, and after spouting off a few more angry lines of ‘this will freak people out’, he’d taken it with him to sixth period study hall. Can’t believe I actually let him have it. But she knew Santiago well, and the boy wasn’t about to let up until she gave in. Sometimes, a girl had to pick her battles in the moment. Even with family.

“Fuck this,” she muttered, grabbing her bag off the floor and barging to the front of the class toward the exit. Mr. Watkins, the bald substitute who seemed to know little about health, eyed her suspiciously as he took his hand away from the whiteboard.

“And where do you think you’re off to, young lady?”

“I have to change my tampon if that’s okay!” Catalina grinned sarcastically. “Heavy flow today, my vaj is like the Red Wedding from Game of Thrones-”

“PLEASE say no more, I beg of you!" the man covered his eyes. "Just go, get out!”

“Thank you,” she rolled her eyes, pushing her way out the door to a quiet, empty hall. “Now where the hell are you, Santiago…” They had shared their daily schedules with each other and gone over a map of the school the previous night, so she had a vague memory of the exact classroom. A-106. Or was it 105? Whatever. Same direction. She marched on down the corridor, headed for the next wing. Along the way, faded school scents of strawberry kiwi body spray, cologne, paper, rubber erasers, hints of weed, and dust wafted through the air. The end of B-wing, however, was the worst. Ugh, is that…raw bacon? What the hell is wrong with people. Cat held her breath to avoid it and scampered to the end of the hall, making the right turn into A-wing. Once it was safe to inhale again, she stopped at the water fountains for a quick drink. Man, even the water here tastes like rust. Buy yourselves an upgrade. She reluctantly gulped it down and continued on, hoping her teeth wouldn’t rot out of her mouth. Once at the 100 block of A-wing, she ducked low to sneak past the vertical windows that lined every door, checking for any sign of her cousin along the way.

“B-102…nope. B-103…nada. B-104, tall kid…nah, that’s Jun Li. B-105,” she whispered, looking to the dark beige-toned athletic boy in the middle section of tables. “Oh hey, coño.” Catalina steeled herself a moment to gather strength, then barged through the door and marched over to her cousin through the otherwise quiet classroom. He glanced up from his textbook and did a double-take as she closed in, scrambling to gather his belongings.

“Oh shit, oh shit!” he jolted up from his chair.

"WHERE'S MY NOTEBOOK?!” she demanded.

“Estas loca?!” He backed away but she dove in fast, pelting him with a series of slaps and punches to the head while he fell back against the table behind him in a struggle to shield himself with his arms and bag. The other teens around them looked up with surprise and excitement as the female teacher stormed over from her desk.

“HEY! Just what the hell is going on here?!”

“This hijo de puta stole my notebook!” Cat huffed and backed away.

“Trust me, it’s for your own good!” Santiago frowned. The teacher let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you two are siblings?”

“Why, because we’re both Mexican?” the boy answered, opting for an argument he could win. “Not a very sturdy limb.”

Catalina smacked him upside the head while the teacher scrambled for defense.

“Oh come on, that’s not what I was-”

“We’re cousins, okay?” Catalina corrected, glowering at the tall boy. “Unfortunately. And don’t mind him, he’s just being a prick because he's bored.”

“Look, why don’t you two take a breather and resolve this outside, huh? This is a quiet study hall, not a playground!”

“Yeah, because there’s so much studying to do on the first day of school,” Santiago muttered.

“Oh shut up, pendejo!” Cat rolled her eyes and yanked Santiago along by the wrist, trudging for the door. "Sorry for the noise," she muttered. The class erupted in claps, laughter, and commotion behind them as the teacher attempted in vain to calm the students. Once back in the hallway, Catalina felt comfortable enough to relax her stance and let go of San. She shook her head at him and plodded off as he trailed close behind. Whatever happened next, both knew they needed somewhere private to talk. They kept walking, eyeing each other in mild annoyance the whole way back to the hall that adjoined their separate wings. As they rounded the corner, Santiago moved ahead of her and slumped down against the wall next to the water fountains.

“Care to sit?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Not really,” Catalina paced around and crossed her arms. “I told you how important this is to me!”

“You know, honestly Cat, at this point…me importa una mierda,” he shrugged. “Drawings are one thing, yeah, but this?” he said, digging her notebook out of his bag and flipping through pages to show her the last one she’d drawn in the cafeteria. “A school shooting? Really?! Do you have any idea how much shit you could get into for this?”

"It's not what it looks like,” she defended.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Like I said on the bus, I can’t draw for shit! Just look at the details. It’s nothing like the other ones, is it?”

“I mean,” he sighed, gazing back over the crude piece, “the art style is a little different now that you mention it. Like comic book characters.”

“Less mature, right? So it wasn’t drawn by the same person as the first.”

“I guess…but Cat, this could get us in big trouble if the school sees it, and you’re not understanding that! That’s why I took it away from you. They don’t take this shit lightly in America, you can’t just-”

“Santiago!” she cut him off. “I’m telling you, that’s not mine! You know me.”

“Do I? A veces me pregunto,” he said, checking his phone for the time. “Look, we’ve got twenty minutes until next period, so…you want to at least give me a clue as to what this is all about? No bullshit?”

Catalina sighed and joined him on the floor, sitting up against the wall.

“It’s hard to piece it all together. It’s like…going back in time, but to another version of it where different things happened. Where people are slightly different. I get scattered dreams or visions of things, and I don’t know what they mean until it just…comes out. Then I trace those things back to people’s choices. There’s always an origin.”

“So these drawings,” he pondered, looking over the notebook again. “This is some alternate reality shit?”

“I think so,” she nodded. “All possibilities exist, right? Like Schrödinger’s Cat.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a hypothetical theory about quantum superposition. Basically, there’s a cat in a box, right? You put a radioactive substance inside with a flask of poison and a Geiger counter and close the lid. If the counter detects radioactivity, the flask breaks and the cat dies. Now when you open the box, you’ll either see the cat dead or alive, not both. But until you look, you won’t know for sure. At that moment, the cat is alive and dead at the same time. It’s the observation, actually looking at things, that makes them real. Every time we make a choice, it forks off into a new reality.”

“Weird,” Santiago quipped. “So let’s say for a second that all these things don’t happen in our reality. What’s the point in trying to figure it all out?”

“Because what happens in one place always affects the other,” she said, hugging her knees. “People never change, San. They just make different choices.”

Her cousin gazed back over the drawing, taking in every detail. It portrayed the scene of a massacre in what was unmistakably their school cafeteria. An assortment of bodies lay strewn around the feet of a sullen, tortured-looking young boy with a rifle strapped over his shoulder. His chest bore the initials ‘CS’, written in an upside-down pink triangle. His face was heavily obscured by shadows and blood splatter, but his pale blue eyes cut through the darkened scene with an aura of intense coldness, offset by a disturbing grin.

“Who the hell do you think this guy is?”

“I’m not sure, but I get this eerie feeling, like it’s someone I’ve seen before,” the girl shuddered. “Maybe Daniel’s boyfriend? I’d hate to think that, but something about their fight in the cafeteria got me thinking. In this world, Chris has Daniel to protect him, right? He has no reason to flip the switch that…shit,” she trailed off nervously.

“Cat,” he said, looking her in the eye. “You can tell me.”

“The switch that tells him to bring his dad’s gun to school,” she hung her head.

“Wait, Chris has a gun?!”

“Maybe? I'm not sure. But don’t worry. If he does, he wouldn’t use it here.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because for whatever reason, Daniel wasn’t in Beaver Creek in the reality I saw, so Chris had no one to stand up for him. Here, he does. If you watch their fights closely, you can see threads of it. Threads that would fray if Daniel wasn’t around. Anyway,” she breathed, picking at a tear in her jeans, “pretty sure I should stay away from those two for now. Lay low. And because of the vision I had with Chris shooting up the cafeteria, I just…I don’t feel right about any of it. Daniel has a choice to make that’ll determine his fate. We need to let him make it.”

“There you go again with that ‘we’ crap,” Santiago shook his head. “What makes you think I want to be involved in any of this?”

“Well,” Catalina said. “You sorta don’t have much of a choice here. No offense.”

“Of course,” the boy rolled his eyes. “So, uh…what am I like, in this alternate reality?” he smirked.

“Don’t push it,” she chuckled. “No lo sé. Not that I would tell you if I did. Some things, you just have to let play out. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re making the basketball team this year.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because you fractured your foot shooting a three-pointer in another life. But hey, just think of all the fun detective time you’ll get now with your adorable, annoying, but sweet and oh-so-lovable cousin!” she smiled, leaning into him.

“You’re bullshitting me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah!” she giggled. “Was worth a try though. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll make the team.”

“All right, fine,” he breathed. “I guess I should help you out with this so you don’t get yourself in deep shit with my parents.”

“Yes!” she squealed, hugging him from aside. “Gracias, gracias, muchos gracias!”

“Una condición!” the boy said firmly, pushing her back. “You have to let me see all your drawings first, and don’t go talking about any of this weird shit with anyone else. Comprendé? Just stay under the radar, since you’re supposed to be doing that anyway. Plus, I don’t need you fucking up my reputation around here. Or ponerte en peligro.”

“Good to know mi seguridad es secundaria,” she rolled her eyes. “You want me to take my meds like a good niñita too?”

“Yo no dije eso! Look, if it really fucks with your head that much, then I’ll hide your pills from my parents, but you have to swear to me that none of this gets back to them. Can you do that? Por favor?”

“Si,” Catalina nodded, gazing up at the water-damaged tiles in the ceiling. She wanted to tell him more. About the other things she saw, about her brief encounter with Daniel at the bathrooms and how he seemed important too, but she decided against it. Santiago was pissed enough about her drawings, and the Fuentes family already viewed her as an outsider, even if she was related to them by blood. The last thing Cat wanted to do was drag them down with her, on the off-chance ICE came knocking. Much as she was on the fence about her cousin’s help too, she did need someone on her side and so far, there seemed to be no one else. “Lo siento for roping you into this by the way,” she sighed.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Santiago said, putting an arm around her. “Nosotras somos familia, prima. What else are we going to do with it, right? Well hey, it’s about ten to noon,” he got up, checking his phone again. “We should both get back to class.”

“Okay. Can I please have my notebook back now? Sorta why I came to beat you up.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he replied, handing it to her. “Just don’t let anyone see that shit, all right?”  

“Yeah, because soy tan estúpida,” she rolled her eyes.

“Almost happened at lunch,” he pointed out. “Ten cuidado. Later.”

“Later,” she saluted.

As the two parted ways, Catalina looked back over her drawings. Santiago hadn’t said much about the others, but of course those were more minor observations. She turned back to the one she’d made on the bus with the two wolves at the border wall. Hmm. If Daniel doesn’t come back to Beaver Creek, then in order for the school shooting to happen, he has to be somewhere else. And this is the Mexican border wall. Two brothers.

She began to recall a distant memory from her childhood of being unable to sleep. On her first night after crossing the border, she’d been taken to a dive motel in El Rey, Arizona. She recalled that part well. It was July 3^rd, 2017. Distant sirens could be heard in the early A.M. hours, followed by police codes being screamed over the scanner her armed escorts kept with them at all times. Then flashes of news on the television as she’d awoke on the afternoon of July 4th. Suddenly, two names jumped out at her, clear as day. Two names with faces. Faces that had been featured on a news report at midday.

“Breaking news from the U.S.-Mexico border this morning. Police say their eight-month pursuit of fugitives Sean and Daniel Diaz, both wanted in connection to the death of Seattle P.D. Officer Kindred Matthews, has finally ended. The two boys fled their Seattle home this past October following a bizarre incident that left their father and the officer dead. It’s currently unclear what happened at the border today as scattered reports continue to emerge, but sources claim the FBI now has one of the two brothers in custody.”

“So you're that Daniel Diaz," Catalina gasped. "Shit.”

*          *          *

The showers at Beaver Creek High, being decades old, consisted of an open communal space. Daniel always felt awkward about the idea of being seen naked by the other boys in his gym class, so he’d waited until everyone else left to wash up. His next period was fortunately a study hall, and the locker rooms were empty now—save for the football coach—who was nice enough to let him stay longer. Thank god.

Hot water rained down in torrents from the metal fixture above, drenching his lithe body to exhume all the sweat and grime from several laps around the track. Man, Sean would be laughing at my running times today. For the first few minutes, he basked in the warmth, allowing the heat to sink in and melt away all the tension he’d faced that day. From the fight on the bus to teachers yelling at him, the strange vision he’d had in the bathroom, Catalina, and then Chris, it was overwhelming. And on top of that, finding out last summer that he’d been a genetically modified infant was a pretty constant source of stress. To whatever extent that contributed to his having telekinetic powers, he still wasn’t sure. Still have to call Mom about that one eventually. Ugh, I just need a long vacation.

He slicked the length of his dark hair back and proceeded soaping himself over, briefly entertaining the idea of a quick wank, but there wasn’t any time. The football coach had him on a stopwatch to be sure he got out before the next class arrived. Ugh, this sucks. Wish I could stay in here forever. As he rinsed, his thoughts began drifting again to Catalina and the strange vision he’d had during lunch in the bathroom. It had haunted him all day. Especially during those few classes without Chris. What the hell does it all mean? Cat is beautiful, but…she’s so weird. And she seems to know things. Maybe too much, and I can’t explain how. She’s a new student, too. Wonder when her family arrived.

Daniel let out a long sigh and sat down cross-legged on the hard tile floor. There, he shut his eyes, allowing the waterfall of heat to halt every racing thought consuming him about the mirror incident. Okay dude, just try to focus. After some time, he began to concentrate on his breathing, even as his heart rate quickened. Breathe in. Breathe out. In...and out. In...and out. In...out. In. Follow the feeling...

Scents began to invade his nostrils as he drifted further into the dark quiet of his mind. Scents of memories. Scents of the wild forest, of the wind in his hair. The rocks, the trees, the flora, the rain and rushing rivers. Mushroom’s bandana. The crisp air and leftover fires of mornings in Humboldt, the smell of the autumn roads. Scents of Sean, and his hoodie as it draped over him. Then came something else: the scent of a wet wild dog, the smell of blood on its breath, and finally, the sound of heavy, furred steps disturbing the tiled ground beneath him. A wolf is pacing around me.

Low growling noises began to fill his ears as the large, gray thing encircled the soft young boy, each appearing at once to be polar opposites, yet entwined spirits all the same. What are you trying to show me? An onslaught of questions came and went with the water that blasted over him, dripped off his body, and swirling down the drain. A metallic taste caught in his mouth the more he tried to breathe, and he came to the conclusion that the shower was now raining down gallons of fresh blood. The growls and weighted stomps continued, growing louder as the wolf moved back and forth, stalking a prey he either could not devour or did not intend to.

“Come on, show me,” the boy whispered. Wet fur grazed over his back and shoulders, then moved across his front, tickling his chest and stomach as a warm coat overtook his legs. Daniel shivered in its presence. The heavy thing sunk down into his lap with a surprising weight he was unprepared for, pinning his legs and feet to the floor beneath a crushing mass. It felt nothing like Lucky. This thing could snap me like a twig. A soft whimper came from the gentle beast as it yawned and nuzzled its head down into him, and the boy proceeded to pet the creature. Smooth hands drifted downward into a rough, matted texture, pressing through wet fur that was at least a good two inches thick. Daniel felt eyes looking up at him, and though he desperately wanted to open his own, something told him not to. There must be more to see where I am.

The scent of a distant fire caught his nose as the weight beneath him suddenly evaporated, and he found himself standing in the clearing of a dark, moonlit forest that opened up into a cemetery just ahead. Daniel squeezed through the thick brush of branches, twigs, overturned trees, and other dead plant matter as he worked his way forward and out of the haunting woods that seemed to keep him ensnared. The full moon shone bright in the sky, obscured now and then by a parade of passing clouds. The air around him was so cold it cut down to the marrow of his bones, but he continued on through the night.

At last, Daniel reached the cemetery. The grounds were well-maintained, having been built into a large, sprawling valley, and the gravestones were relatively modern. Crows fled in the distance from a giant weeping willow tree up ahead, beneath which lay a black casket surrounded by a sea of marigold petals that glowed in the pale moonlight. Shadows enveloped the boy as he plodded forward with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something felt tight at his neck. He looked down to realize he was now fully clothed in a tie and black suit for the occasion. The air moving on was frigid, though not as cold as the forest had been. Daniel took another deep breath as he stepped through a tangle of mud and visible tree roots jutting up from the ground, closing in on the casket. Once there, he gazed over the onyx-colored lid and placed his hand on the edge. A flood of discordant whispers carried on the wind rushed forth from the shadows that surrounded him, blowing a sea of orange petals over the top.

“I guess this is where the love story of Super Wolf and Phoenix ends,” a hushed female voice cried. “Time was really never on our side in any reality, was it? Damn it, I tried! I tried so hard to tell you, and I’m so sorry! But this is how it has to be...”

“No! Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure something out! Please don’t do this, Cat! I love you...please...” His voice sounded deeper. Older.

“I love you too. So much! But that was my mistake, and you deserve peace. Both parts of you. We tried to find another way. We failed!” her voice strained just above a whisper, choked off by the weight of her own sobs.

“No...don’t you leave me too! Not you!”

“Sometimes when you win...you lose. ‘Don’t turn back for me,’ remember? That’s what you said to your brother at the border that day! Now I have to say it at our border. Only neither of us has the power to cross this one."

“No, stop! Put the gun down! Catalina, stop!”

“Daniel...I hope you’ll be happy in Mexico-”

“NO!”

Daniel heard in an inhuman male scream as a gun shot rang out so loud, he felt it in his chest as it shook the ground beneath him. “No...Catalina!” he panicked, frantically brushing the marigold petals off the casket lid. “I have to save you. I’m going to save you, and I will! I won’t fail you. I promise!” The tie around his neck seemed to grow ever tighter as he fought with labored breaths, fought with all his might to clear the casket of those terrible death petals. Once he did, he grasped the side of the lid and lifted with all his might until at last it opened, and the whispers fled back into the shadows from whence they came.

“Oh...oh god!” he gasped, gazing in horror at the body before him. “Catalina!”

But like his own voice he’d heard cry out in the darkness, she too appeared older, though not much so. Three years, at best. Once he mustered up the courage, he took a longer look. She’d been dressed in a sleeveless, lace white evening gown, delicate hands resting over her stomach. Her dark hair lay in wavy locks that cascaded over her bare shoulders, intertwined nicely with a gold necklace that sat around her neck. And there, high atop her head, was positioned a crown of those damned orange marigolds. Her skin was slightly paler in death, but she was radiant all the same. So young...so beautiful...she can’t die. Not like that. Daniel backed away, but stopped when an ice cold hand grasped his. He looked to his right, startled to see another familiar face. Skull makeup...

“El Lobo! W-What’s going on?”

“It’s Dia de Muertos. But everything is going to be okay,” the ten year-old child assured him. “So don’t you dare cry.”

Daniel became aware of a horrible deep quaking noise in front of him as the casket began to vibrate. Sharp gusts of wind raged throughout the cemetery now, and the chorus of discordant whispers returned with it. The boy cautiously looked back at the open casket and ventured a step toward it again. As he did, a sudden blast of flame and petals shot out of it into the air, where they hung suspended and hovered in an oscillating fireball. Daniel glanced down into the casket, but Catalina’s body was no longer there. The flames above reshaped themselves into the form of a phoenix, complete with an enormous fiery wingspan and razor-sharp talons. It sunk down to perch on the side of the casket and glared menacingly at him, spitting flumes of smoke. Daniel froze as the creature reared back, screeched a horrible noise, and flew at him.

“AHHH!” he screamed, falling tailbone first onto the hard shower floor. He jolted up and looked around him, expecting to see darkness. But there were no shadows. There was no wolf. There was no cemetery. No casket. No phoenix. No voices, save for his own. The vision had ended, though felt as real to him as reality itself. And right now, reality made the sharp pain shooting through his spine abundantly clear. “Ouch! What the hell was-”

“Hey!” a voice called from the shower entrance behind him. The football coach. “What the hell’s taking you so long?”

“Dude, what the fuck!” Daniel protested, cupping his genitals in his hands.

“Time’s up, you’ve been in here fifteen minutes! Next class is coming in soon.”

“S-Sorry! Shit...” The pained young teen rolled over and stepped up with one foot, leaning on his knee for support, then the other. He gave his hair and face one last thorough dousing on the cold setting to wake himself up before turning off the metal unit and scampering out to the lockers with one hand covering himself. He heard the bang of a door just ahead as the coach exited to give him privacy.“Man, what the fuck was that!” he cried, the vision of Catalina’s lifeless body now scarred into his brain. He snatched his towel off the bench and paced back and forth, still dripping wet and naked. Tears stung his face. Droplets from the shower froze onto his skin, but he didn’t care. Other students would be arriving at any moment, but he didn’t care. Despite the million questions flooding his mind now, only one of them mattered. I have to warn her. I have to save her somehow. I don’t care what it takes.

“I’m going to save you,” he said aloud. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. I’m going to stop it whatever it is, I’ll find a way,” he chanted, drying himself off. He quickly pulled his shirt and jeans back on, continuing that mantra in his head as he gathered up the rest of his things. I have to save you. I want to, Catalina. It isn’t even a question for me. That voice. He’d said the same thing before, but somewhere else. In another time. In another life. Another version of reality. “I have to talk to her. Now.”

Daniel slung the backpack over his shoulder and bolted out of the locker room for the main office to find out what class she’d be coming out of. Then, he would tell her everything.

Chapter Text

Catalina stood at her locker, unloading a collection of fresh textbooks after having skipped the rest of her Health 1 class. By the time she’d finished picking her jaw off the floor at the memory of the news reports on Daniel and his brother four years prior, there were only five minutes left anyway. She’d spent that remaining time composing herself to the best of her ability in the bathroom. I definitely can’t tell Santiago any of this. Not that she sensed he was going to be of much help anyway.

She gazed back over the interior of her bare locker door a moment, then surveyed those of the other girls now shuffling around the hall. Pictures of summer times past, concert tickets, cute notes from their boyfriends, photo collages, or daily reminders lined theirs. I have an interesting life too, I promise, Cat thought to herself, even as she began to feel as alien as she truly was. She considered throwing up some quantum theory charts, but that would’ve confused the hell out of everyone. Still, she lived for being enigmatic at times. She shook her head and placed the last book on the shelf. Maybe tomorrow. Catalina shut her locker door, only to see Daniel’s face waiting behind it.

“Oh great,” she scoffed, grabbing her bag up from the floor. “It’s the asshole.” She hoped she was hiding her genuine surprise at his sudden appearance well enough.

“We really need to talk!” the boy blurted out.

“No, I don’t think we do,” Cat turned, trudging down the hall at a brisk pace. Daniel quickly followed suit, catching up to walk alongside her. “You made it pretty clear you were done with me at lunch.”

“I had another vision,” he said. “A really bad one!”

“Oh yeah?” she stopped. “Was it of me walking away? Because that’s what’s happening now. Who knew you were such a psychic?” Catalina continued on, a bit faster this time. He looks freshly showered. Good bet he had gym class. Hopefully this wears him out, because I’m sure as hell not answering his questions. Keep moving, Cat.

“Actually, you were dead and laying in a coffin!”

“Man, you need to lay off the pre-Halloween horror flicks,” she laughed. “Let me guess, Pennywise came up the drain trying to bite your skinny little ankles?”

“Well I mean there was blood, but that’s not the point! And I’m not that skinny.”

“Aw, did I just bruise your fragile gay ego?”

“Look, can you just stop please? My legs hurt from gym class and I’m really not in a joking mood!”

“Yeah? Neither am I, so take the hint and back off!” she shoved him.

“Sorry if I don’t want to let anything bad happen to you.”

“You know, if you really want to save me so bad, you should look after your boyfriend first. You’re good at that, right?” She knew he wouldn’t grasp the full scope of what that meant, but she hoped some part of him did.

“Excuse me, but my day’s been pretty weird ever since you showed up!”

“Since I showed up?!” Catalina snapped, whirling around. “What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“Well…y-you didn’t physically do anything, but I keep having these crazy ass visions, so what’s your superpower?” Daniel asked.

“My superpower?” she laughed. “I don’t know, but sadly it doesn’t seem to be getting rid of guys like you.” Daniel rolled his eyes as she plodded off, but he kept following.

“Okay, well then here’s a better question. When exactly did you come to Beaver Creek?”

“None of your damn business dude,” she sighed. “Why, when did you come to Beaver Creek, you little fugitive?” His eyes went wide at that. Good. Maybe it’ll get him to leave me alone. Even though I wish it didn’t have to be this way. “Yeah,” she smirked. “I know all about who you are.”

“Shh, would you keep your voice down?!” he clenched his teeth, looking around them to see if anyone heard. “I don’t need people talking about it.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure you're yesterday’s news. But if you don’t want to be today’s, I suggest you leave me the hell alone!”

“Fine, just tell me when you got here and I will!”

“Four years ago, a few weeks after Independence Day,” she said. “There. You done now?”

“I knew it!” he exclaimed.

“Guess not.”

“You came through Arizona, didn’t you?”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Maybe. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“I think I only get these visions or dreams whenever you’re around. If we were in the same area at the same time, it makes sense why I got them back then, too!”

“Or you’re just delusional and obsessed with me,” she rolled her eyes.

“No, you don’t get it! I kept seeing this boy, right? And he’s basically me, but…a different version of me.”

Catalina stopped in her tracks, genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“He paints his face in skull makeup and wears my brother’s hoodie.”

“Whoa.” She was curious now. Almost too curious. Skull makeup. His brother’s hoodie. If he’s talking about Dia de Muertos, then that version of Daniel wants to memorialize him, which means Sean died. He wants to keep his brother alive. But if she expressed any interest in what he was saying, there was no way in hell she could keep dodging his questions. Or avoid him, as she knew she had to. Come on Cat, think fast. “In that case, I have something you should totally try!”

“What is it?”

“Be the version of yourself that walks away before I report you for harassment,” she smiled. Daniel hung his head low, looking completely crushed. “Look,” she relented, “it’s adorable you want to save the day and all, but I’m really not the one who needs attention right now, okay? Plus I’m not looking to go back to Mexico anytime soon if you know what I mean, so just…drop it. Please.”

“Fine…I’m sorry, Cat. I just can’t get that vision out of my head.”

“You know, there’s always the Tide Pod challenge?” she smirked. “Later!” Catalina kept walking, leaving him behind. This time, he didn’t follow. Finally.

“Wait! A-Are we ever going to talk again?” he stammered.

“I’ll let you know if I get bored enough!” she called back. Catalina was on a fading high. She had felt her usual bubbly, witty self for the majority of their exchange. But the more distance she put between them both, the more she noticed the brave smile on her face slowly disappearing. She hadn’t wanted to leave him. Especially not when he needed to discuss something important that he was clearly spooked about. What he had just revealed to her, she knew, was vital. And it confirmed something she’d suspected ever since they’d bumped into each other that morning. We’re connected somehow across these realities. Much as it seemed to freak Daniel out, she felt it even more so, because it had never happened before. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

In every iteration of time and reality she had witnessed thus far, very few people, if any, remained on the same branch of the tree. They led different lives, had different behaviors, different relationships. There was always an origin point at which their paths split, and the more those splits and significant events occurred, the less the origin would echo upward through the leaves. Where it did, they would change colors and fall, much like the autumn season that now painted Beaver Creek in those beautiful red, orange, and yellow hues. Branches would grow brittle and break off in the storm. A tree without strong roots or a forest to protect it would wither and die.

For much of her childhood life, Catalina had felt on the verge of such death. Being so far from home on her own had also changed her. She viewed life with a fresh set of eyes now, and her powers of perception were growing as a result. She no longer felt as caged by the influence of her father as she’d been in Mexico, and even came to resent him for everything he’d made her do as a child. Forcing people to see the versions of themselves that constantly failed. Splitting their minds across other realities, so they’d forever be haunted by the entropy of them. Accessing their deepest memories to uncover any secrets they might be hiding. And all of it had been in the name of building his successful cartel empire.

Now, the young immigrant girl had to learn to live for herself. To make her own choices, wherever they might lead. And that scared her most of all regarding Daniel, because she’d never been a part of anyone’s tree before. Her choice to not intervene in another's path had, until now, been a part of her personal code of ethics. But I’m tired of being surrounded by death and feeling powerless to stop it, she thought. I have the power to give people hope, too. To make positive change. I can’t just keep stepping back like Santiago wants me to, or remove myself from the equation entirely. I have a voice here. Maybe it’s time I used it. Stop being so afraid, Cat.

*          *          *

Daniel plopped down in the midsection of the bus aside Chris closest to the aisle, anxiously watching for any sign of Catalina. The vision he’d had in the locker room showers still lingered fresh in his mind. Not that she cared. Having his concerns invalidated by her on top of it only made matters worse. I just really hope we can talk again before it’s too late. The young boy let out a sigh and put in his AirPods, drawing his knees up against the seat in front of him as he queued up ‘Ghost’ by Julia Wolf on his phone. It was a song he found himself listening to on repeat whenever he was in a melancholy mood. Chris looked over to see what music he was playing and immediately tore one of the buds out of his ear.

“Okay dude, what’s going on? I see you playing that emo sad shit.”

“Ugh, it’s nothing, can I have my AirPod back please?”

“Wait, let’s hear it, I think I know this one,” Chris said, holding it to his ear. “‘I don’t mean to ghost you but I will’, yeah, who are you ghosting?”

“No one! It’s just a song, dude. I don’t give you shit for listening to Blue Neighborhood, do I?”

“Um, I only listen to Troye Sivan when I’m going through the worst day ever, and I know you only listen to Wolf for the same reason, so spill it.”

“Fine,” Daniel sighed, looking nervously back to the aisle. “But it’s a little, uh…” Shit. Catalina had appeared in the line of students coming onto the bus. He held his breath when she passed by him on her way to the back seats, where she quickly sat with her cousin. Didn’t seem to notice me. Thank god. “It’s complicated,” the boy breathed. He turned in his seat to steal a glance at her, but Chris yanked him back and ripped out his other earbud.

“So this is about Catalina, huh?” his boyfriend glared angrily at him. “First you want to take me on a date, and now you’re checking her out again? Nice!”

“Would you chill out? It’s not what you think, Chris!”

“Oh yeah, then what is it, Daniel?”

“I…” the boy hung his head. “I don’t know, okay? I can’t explain. I wish I could.” He wanted to tell Chris everything. In the past, he always had. His boyfriend was the only one other than family who knew about his powers, who knew the truth of all he and his brother had done, about the FBI situation, about his mother, and even about Project Havenwolf—something he dared not tell even Claire and Stephen. But those visions of Catalina, and the realization that in some alternate universe or plane of reality, he had ended up falling in love with her…he couldn’t stomach the thought of telling Chris. Doing so would not only hurt him, but also, he felt, make something about it true. What if I do fall for her…

“Well you better try to explain it dude, or else I’m calling off our date,” Chris said, sinking back against the window.

“Look, she doesn’t even want to be friends with me anyway!”

“Okay,” the blond shrugged. “But that’s not the point. So what, you thought you’d offer to take me on a date and I’d shut up about you looking at her?”

“No! Of course not,” Daniel assured him. He tried taking Chris’s hand, but the boy crossed his arms. “Come on man, you don’t have to be like this.”

“It’s just that you used to tell me everything,” Chris said, running a hand through his red-streaked hair. “I thought couples talk, that’s what we’ve always done! And I know pretty much everything there is to know about you. We’ve been together through some crazy ass shit since the moment we met!”

“I know!”

“So what’s so different about this that suddenly you’re all secretive?”

“Chris…it’s not that I like her.” At least I don’t think I do. Daniel laid his head back against the seat and took his hand. This time, he let him hold it. “And I still love you, you know? I don’t want you to think I don’t. But I’m really freaked out about something right now, so until I figure things out, I can’t give you much more of an answer. It’s just…really heavy shit.”

“Well...all right,” the boy sighed, toying with his fingers. “I guess if you don’t like her, then I’ve got nothing to worry about. But if it’s not that you’re questioning your sexuality or anything, then what’s got you so spooked? You can tell me,” Chris assured him, rubbing his cheek. Daniel grabbed his boyfriend’s hand tighter and looked him in the eye. He didn’t want to say anything until he knew for certain, but it was clear Chris had been misinterpreting a lot of things that day. He at least deserved to have his fears put to rest.

“Okay,” he breathed, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I think she’s…like me.”

“Like you? You mean she can move shit with her mind too?”

“No…not like that. But she’s got something. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Not much about my life does,” Daniel chuckled. “But unless premonitions are some new superpower I have, then…it’s gotta be her.”

“How do you know?”

“I mean, I don’t for sure, but…I had a vision today after I ran into her in the hall. And I found out something else crazy, too. You remember that kid I told you about from my dreams years ago? The one that’s me, but different?”

“The skull kid?”

“Yeah. So apparently, Cat came up from Mexico when I was on my way back to Beaver Creek. That’s when I started dreaming of him. And in those visions, or whatever they were today? He was with her! They were together. Like, together together! So I guess…there’s your answer. That’s why I’m freaked out. I just...I don't know what it means,” Daniel sighed, leaning his head on Chris’s shoulder. The boy put a comforting arm around him.

“Damn,” his friend gasped. “That is some heavy shit.”

“Yeah…”

“So was there anything else you saw?”

Daniel hesitated, then shook his head. “Sorry, Chris. I don't really wanna talk about it. It’s too fucked up.” He nuzzled his head against into his boyfriend’s neck, and Chris leaned back to cuddle him close. I can’t tell him anything more than that.

Daniel felt weak. He felt lost. He felt like crying. Never before in his short, complicated life since the death of his father had he ever felt so powerless to stop something bad from happening. Up until now, he’d at least had the choice to act or not. To use his powers for good, to save people and make the world a better place for it. This time, however, that decision didn’t seem to be up to him. Catalina didn’t want to listen. And much as he consciously knew it was her own choice, he couldn’t help but feel in some way responsible. The only thing keeping him descending into full out paranoia about it all was the knowledge that there was still time. Man, if I could go back, there’s so much shit I’d change. But if I did…I might never have met Chris. Or my grandparents.

As the bus engine roared beneath them and the shocks bounced the crowd of students along the beaten road home, he rested his head in his boyfriend’s lap and shut his eyes. Chris ran his fingers through his dark hair and caressed his face, leaning down every so often to plant warm kisses on his forehead. For now, despite being an uncomfortable position, it was the most comfortable place to be.

*          *          *

Catalina staggered into her darkened bedroom. After a long, boring, and emotionally tense first day of school, more questions from Santiago on the bus, and the inevitable chore that was family dinner, she’d had enough. With a labored sigh, she dug out her phone and slumped on the bed to check her socials. All of them were decidedly blank of any identifying information. Up until now, she'd thought it best to keep it that way in case any federales might be watching. But they’ve been gone for awhile now, right? she thought.

She briefly considered taking a few selfies just to put herself out there and maybe make friends at school, but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. So far, Beaver Creek is full of racist assholes, sex-hungry jocks, and annoying teachers. Catalina lay back in her bed, savoring the quiet darkness of her room, and opened Instagram to type in a name. Daniel Diaz. A list of users popped up beneath the search bar. Sure enough, there was his adorable mug, number three in the lineup. SuperWolfDiaz07. Curious, she began to look over his profile. 14 years young. Half-white, half-Mexican, all American! Attend Beaver Creek High *side-eye emoji*. Taken by Chris on 5/29/20. Hmu if you play Fortnite!

“So cringey,” she smirked, scrolling down to look through his photo grid. There were only nine pictures, but they were interesting nonetheless. The first was of him and a puppy he’d gotten for Christmas in 2017. ‘This is my dog Lucky! Isn’t she super cute, or is it just me? *wink*’ The next showed him and Chris in a tree house, dated June of 2019. ‘Spirit Squad never dies!’, he wrote. A photo of a newspaper article came up next. ‘Bus Avoids Lake Tragedy Due To “Miracle”’. Hmmm. She tapped on the odd choice of image to see what it said, but there were no captions or hashtags. Only someone with the username CaptainSpiritsRage had commented. ‘Boi, delete this.’ Interesting. Catalina rolled over on her side, taking in the image as she tried to remember if she’d heard anything associated with it on the news that year. Police squads were all over that area for about a week trying to hush things up. Black SUVs too, but it was mostly just bored kids checking it out. Still…wonder what he has to do with it. A sudden knock stirred her from her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Catalina, puedes peinarme por favor?” It was Rosa. She’d almost forgotten her eleven year-old cousin had been begging her to style her hair for the past month. Cat felt bad she hadn’t gotten around to it before the first day of school, but at least Beaver Creek Elementary’s picture day was scheduled for the following week. Guess I should help her look nice for it.

“Si, dame un momento!” she called. Just then, her phone started ringing with an unknown number. “Shit,” she breathed, going for the red button, but stopped herself. “Ugh…please don’t be Dad!” she panicked. But if she didn’t answer, Tia Vanessa would make her call him back anyway. She hit the green button. “Fuck…hola?”

“Hola, mija,” Gilberto spoke. Great. Catalina hopped to the floor and began pacing around as a wave of anxiety tore through her stomach at the sound of his voice.

“Hey Dad…”

“I have not heard from you for some time.”

“Lo sé…I’ve just been busy.”

“Keeping up with your studies, I hope?”

“Yeah, well today was the first day of school, so. Nothing fun yet.”

“Mmm,” the man acknowledged. “Well, te echo de menos.”

“I know you have,” she bit her tongue, trying to avoid the urge to scream. I haven’t missed you. "Kinda hard to care."

“Mija, listen…I know you are displeased with me. That in the past, I made you do certain…things with which you were not comfortable. And despite the many successes your abilities and information provided me, I did not treat you fairly. For that, I am truly sorry.”

“Whatever,” she smiled thinly. “Es demasiado tarde para eso.”

“Espero que no,” the man replied. “I know I must do better for you. Especially after my failures.”

“Mmhmm. Solo para que estemos claras, is this about your failures as a father, or your business failures?” she said pointedly. “Because I overheard Tio Jesús saying we’ve had some money problems the past two months. You cut them off, didn’t you?”

“Catalina…”

“Did you do that because I wasn’t calling? And you better give me the truth.” She was shaking with rage now as she struggled to breathe, her paces growing faster across the room. He wanted her help. She knew that question was coming. It was inevitable.

“We have had some…minor setbacks,” he sighed into the phone. “But I have men working on more shipments now. A few issues with this boy in Puerto Lobos, but. I think they will turn things around. Don’t you worry. Business will be thriving again in no time!”

“That’s always a good thing, right? For you.”

“You can tell your Tio Jesús more money is coming, si?”

“Si. But let me guess, you want me to help you out first?”

“Lo haré saber.”

“Thought so. I need to go now.”

“Oh, one more question I have. How are things in Beaver Creek mija, eh? Haces amigos?”

“Realmente no,” she breathed. “There’s this boy following me around, but. I don’t know. Es un poco raro. I need to figure it out.”

“I see,” Gilberto said. “And are you having visions about-”

“Catalina!” Rosa interrupted from behind the door.

“Un momento, on the phone!” Cat called. “Escucha papá, I really need to get going, okay? I’ll call you mañana. Or next week. Maybe never.”

“Catalina-”

“Adiós.”

She hung up and dropped the phone on her bed, tugging at her hair in frustration. If it wasn’t her father using her powers for his own nefarious gain, it was about him fishing for information, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Especially not where someone as important as Daniel Diaz was concerned. And she knew he was special, she just didn’t know how yet.

Cat collected herself and opened the door to greet Rosa. Cutting her cousin’s hair would come as a welcome distraction from everything else. She quickly got to work, collecting a pair of scissors, clips, and other needed materials. But the more she snipped, layered, and sprayed water over the young girl’s hair that night, the more she began to think about October. And Halloween. And Dia de los Muertos. Shadows were slowly encroaching on her mind, she could feel it. A storm was coming. A storm in which the lines between the living and dead were about to grow thin. But maybe that’s just it, she thought. There was an opening. An eye in the hurricane. A chance to use her powers for something good for once.

Catalina smiled in the mirror as she finished up her cousin’s hair. I can't wait for Dia de Muertos.

Chapter Text

Sean leaned back in his creaky office chair and stretched out with a yawn. Finn was still outside speaking with their cartel contact from Nogales, a heavily tattooed, twenty year-old gangbanger named Rico who thought he was the shit. Both of them hated dealing with the prick, but over the past year, they’d been forced to grow accustomed to it. He brought them the majority of their auto work after all, so there wasn’t much room to complain. Loved talking their ears off, though. And making constant threats. Jesus Christ, they’ve been out there for an hour, Sean sighed, taking another sip of his rancid instant coffee. Just as he was about to go see what was taking so long, Finn turned the corner with a clipboard in hand.

“Still wakin’ up, sweetie?” he smiled.

“As much as I can since our coffee maker broke yesterday,” Sean chuckled, taking another sip. “Fuck, how does anyone drink this piss?”

“Hey, at least we still got hot water and enough to keep the lights on, right? Knock on wood.”

“This is bullshit,” Sean sighed. “I owed what, $40,000? It’s been over a year! That’s more than enough time and product moved to pay them off. Now they’re just exploiting us.”

“Ya think?” Finn said sarcastically.

“You know nothing’s keeping you here, right?”

“Except helping you. Which I’ll always do, Sean. Come on, do you really think I tagged along just to bail you out and leave?”

“I guess not,” Sean smiled, downing the rest of his stale coffee water. The phrase ‘caffeine is still caffeine’ was hardly enough justification for consuming such filth, but the taste alone was starting to wake him up. Maybe that’s the whole point. “So what’s new on our lovely crime agenda for today?”

“Well, our buddy Ricky Ricardo out there talked a hell of a lot more shit than usual, so you know the pressure’s on,” Finn said, looking over the itemized list on their clipboard. His gaze fell to the bottom of the page, at which point his eyes went wide. He let out a long whistle, then grinned. Oh no, Sean thought. This was going to be bad. “Shiiit. I am so sorry. Looks like…thirteen cars, amigo! We are set up today!”

“No way!” Sean panicked, bolting from the chair to snatch the clipboard from his partner’s grimy, oil-stained hands. He wasn’t lying. “God,” the boy sighed, slumping back in the office chair as he tossed the board over his desk. He buried his face in his hands. “I’m already done with today. And tomorrow. They’ve been doing this to us the whole fucking month.”

“Aw, don’t you worry, sweetie,” Finn grinned. “Me and my bros used to crank out ten of these puppies in the dead of winter, and let me tell you, it’s a lot harder to move when you’re freezing your bony cheeks off. So what’s three extra? We got this, pup,” he said, ruffling Sean’s hair. Promise.” Finn’s optimism could get annoying sometimes.

“How?!” Sean stressed. “They need all this done by tonight! How the hell do we got this?”

“Oh, I know a few tricks to get us crackin’ those beers on the beach before sundown,” the man winked. “Want me to show you how it’s done?”

“Yeah,” Sean smiled, taking Finn’s dirty hands as he pulled him out of the chair and led him over the ten foot distance to the garage.

“One sec while I work out the kinks,” the hippie breathed, taking a moment to stretch. He bent over to touch his toes, then leaned back, thrusting his hips forward to crack his lower back. “Mmm, that’s the stuff. All right, we’re ready Freddy!” Finn smiled. He blew into his hands and rubbed them together to warm up, then clapped. “Whew! Now for the most important part,” he said, patting Sean’s cheek with a smile. “Music.” He grabbed up the stereo from the back table and set it down on a workbench in front of their first car of the day, smashing the play button. Spin Cycle by Eyedea began blaring throughout the garage as they quickly set to work.

Within the first hour, Finn had them removing all the seats, ripping up the carpets, and tearing off interior panels. Get the car down to its bare bones. That was the most crucial step, he’d said, when it came to turnaround speed and discovering all the good places to hide drugs. Next was digging out the airbags, because that was the most obvious useful spot to stuff smaller packages of product. Naturally, they would no longer work on the car as a safety measure, so alert lights would come up if the vehicle were turned on. Finn showed him how to disconnect the appropriate wires to avoid that problem, as it would cause red flags when the vehicles were sold off. Side panel airbags could be ripped out and replaced with more product, and the plastic pieces snapped back in place. Beneath the steering well was a last resort, but still helpful if you ran out of space. Any other open spots or compartments designed to be easily opened were a no-go.

“Now for the next little trick? Spare tires,” he smiled. “Seems obvious, right? But ain’t nobody like to drive around with donuts if they can help it, plus these things are a dime a dozen for dealers. So we take the tires off the rim, fill ‘em up with goods, put ‘em back in the trunk. Once the cars arrive, they can easily take out the product, replace ‘em for cheap, and nobody’ll be the wiser. Smart, huh?”

“Not if somebody gets pulled over on the way,” Sean pointed out. “Cops have dogs, they’ll sniff this shit out real quick.”

“Hey, some things you can’t avoid,” Finn shrugged. “But that’s their problem. I’m guessing that’s why we’re working thirteen cars though, eh? Never hide all your goods in the same place.”

“Good point,” Sean said, looking over the engine compartment. “Any good places in here?”

“Shit, yeah! Air intake box,” he grinned. “The A/C vents are a pretty sweet spot too, at least on older cars before like…2008 or so. Newer cars, not so much. Hard to pop off without breakin’ the damn things. Unless it’s US-made, see these Dodges make it fuckin’ ideal to smuggle shit! Them Toyotas and Hyundais though? Forget it! We wouldn’t even take ‘em at my daddy’s shop for a while. Pain in the ass to tear apart. You can hardly even change a damn headlight without going to a dealership.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the only good thing about import taxes being raised,” Sean chuckled. “People would rather pay for American-made shit.”

“That’s kind of a double-edged, uh…dammit…sword! Yeah, that’s the word,” Finn giggled, kicking a plastic hubcap back in place. “The more frequently people have to get their shit repaired, the sooner they find our thousand-dollar presents stuck all over it.”

“True,” Sean said, stepping back from the car for a short break. “Ever think we should just go into business for ourselves?”

“I mean…you could, but then where would you run to, ‘specially without that brother ‘a yours? Ain’t you tired of that, Sean Diaz?”

“Yeah…” the boy breathed. “Sorry man. It’s just…this feels like a fucking nine-to-five.”

“Oh, I feel you sweetie,” Finn said, coming up to hug him from behind. “But it won’t be forever. Heck, even with interest. Plus we get to finish this shit, then we’re done for the day, right?”

“It won’t be forever? Jesus, you sound like Merrill!” Sean scoffed, tearing away from him. “Don’t tell me you liked Humboldt that much! Especially not after what you did. You didn’t settle then, and now suddenly you’re gonna lay down and take it?”

“Like I don’t do that three times a week already.”

“This isn’t the time for your jokes, Finn!” Sean snapped. He was angry now. “We’re out here busting our asses here for nothing, and you know it! It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he sighed, leaning over the back table.  

“You realize Merrill was four years ago, right?” Finn pointed out. “I mean hell, I may have lost a lot of brain cells since, but even I remember that. Some things do change, Sean. Whether we like it or not. And what really matters is staying with the people you love, yeah? Not risking their lives for some…petty stupid shit you didn’t think through. Heck, I’m pretty sure we both know that better than anyone.”

Shit. He was right. Much as those words hurt Sean to hear and much as he hated to admit it, his partner spoke the truth. Damn. Leave it to Finn to joke around at the worst times, then say something really deep. There wasn’t much in between when it came to Finn, but Sean also knew it was one of many reasons they worked so well together. Where he couldn’t brush things off or let them go, the young Scottish hippie was always there to bring him back. Which felt odd, all things considered. Back in Humboldt, he was the last person on Earth Sean would have approached when he needed grounding.

“Look honey,” the young man said, putting an arm around him at the worktable. “I don’t want to fight. And you know I’ll go wherever you go or do whatever you want to do. No questions asked, ‘cause Lord knows I ain’t got nothin’ else. But fact is, there were a lot of things that weren’t supposed to happen the way they did. Best we can do now is just…play out our cards, right? Or in this case…cars,” he chuckled.

“Yeah,” Sean laughed. “Shit. It’s not even noon and I already feel like a drink.”

“Big same, brotha. What do you say we bang out the rest of these puppies and head on over to the boardwalk for some coctales?”

“Still think we can do it by sundown?” Sean groaned as he stretched.

“Hell yeah!” Finn smiled. “Let’s hop back to it.”

“And hey...Finn? I’m sorry for-”

“Ach,” the man shrugged it off. “No worries. Besides, in this kinda shit, we gotta keep each other Zen, right?”

“Right,” Sean smiled as they bumped fists. “Okay. Let’s kick the tires and light the fires! Only twelve more cars to go…”

Chapter Text

As the sun began to set that evening over the beach, the two young men took up seats on the outdoor veranda of their favorite cocktail lounge not far from the shop. The crowd that greeted them was awash in Spanish conversation beneath strings of white lights and calming music, providing a relaxing and pleasant atmosphere. It was a welcome relief after a grueling ten-hour day, and always the part of the week Sean most looked forward to. He ordered his usual two beers at the bar, while Finn opted for the coconut cocktails he’d always talked about back in their Humboldt days. It was a nice getaway from the insanity of their lives otherwise. Lives that seemed ruled over and dictated by the ever-watchful eye of Gilberto Garcia and his cartel scum.

For better or worse, they were slaves, and people like Rico had no problem reminding them of it. He would drop in at the lounge occasionally to check in on them maybe once a month. If they managed to get him drunk enough, he would often divulge where the gang’s hotbed activities were, so at least they’d know in advance which places in town to avoid. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be there tonight. Good, Sean thought. I hate his stupid face.

“You all good, hun?” Finn asked.

“Yeah,” Sean assured him, savoring the gentle breeze blowing in from the seaside. “Just thinking.”

“Anything good?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. He took a short sip of beer and sighed as he looked to the ocean, mesmerized by the distant waves. “You still live your life with no regrets, Finn? I mean…about all that stuff with Cass.”

“I mean…yeah, she did make her own choice,” Finn reasoned. “I can’t say I don’t miss her sometimes, but. We all gotta do what’s best for ourselves, right? I suppose in that, I can’t judge her.”

“And how about you? Do you really think you made the best choice for yourself by-”

“Yes!” Finn cut him off. “Sweetie, you gotta stop that shit,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Sean said, taking another swig. In many ways, Sean felt the inevitability of his permanent residency in Puerto Lobos was catching up with him. For the better part of a year, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, and so he’d often find himself waxing poetic like this in quiet moments. Damn. Hard to believe I’ve been in Mexico for four fucking years, and somehow it still doesn’t feel like home. Not that it was by any means hard to figure out why. Daniel. It was him. It was always about him. He needed his brother back in his life, and he didn’t care what form that might take. Visitation was next to impossible of course, but a phone call, letters, hell, even an occasional text. Something. Anything. Because every day, Sean felt that absence eat him up inside. It didn’t matter if it was the morning or late at night, or even early evenings like this. Finn helped take his mind off things, but it still wasn’t quite enough. Even if I just know you’re okay, enano. That’s all I want.

“I miss him too, ya know?” Finn uttered, as if reading his mind. “And I know that’s why you get like this, Sean. I might be high as shit and deadass stupid sometimes,” he laughed, and they laughed together. “But I’m observant. So if you need to talk about it, or heck…find some way…”

“Thanks Finn,” Sean leaned against him. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Speaking of which, you see that white dude over there in the sunglasses?” he said, nodding subtly across the bar. A middle-aged man in a floral button-down sat off in the corner, turning his head as they looked on. He had a cell phone in one hand and a margarita in the other.

“Yeah. Probably just some dumb tourist. What about him?”

“Seems like he’s been lookin’ our way for a bit now.”

“Huh…” Sean felt a twinge of nervousness in the pit of his stomach, despite the alcohol setting in.

“And tourist? No way,” Finn said, sipping on his cocktail. “It’s fall season, right?”

“Right…” Fuck. What if they’re onto me? But that’s impossible. It’s been four years, right? And no way any FBI agents would come across the border, much less track me down here. Just…calm down, dude. “Uh…” he breathed, starting to panic. “You think we should maybe get outta here?”

“Or we can stay and see if he leaves. Safer option, seeing’s how we’re out in public.”

“Yeah, but…shit.”

Sean surveyed the length of the large, open veranda to see if there might be anymore odd, American-looking types who stood out in the overwhelmingly Latino crowd. But so far, there appeared to be no one else. And over in that corner, the man still sat checking his phone every few seconds as if expecting something. Sean looked discretely in his direction, slowly sizing him up. Looks average build for his age. Little extra weight. Crewcut hair. Maybe 5’8 or 5’9. I could probably take him in a fight, but I wouldn’t want to. And I could definitely outrun him. So why am I suddenly scared shitless? Fuck…I don’t want to cut our time here short, but I can’t enjoy it either with his stupid ass watching.

“So not to freak you out any more than you already are, but…I kinda gotta take a piss,” Finn said regretfully. “You gonna be all right, darlin’?”

“Huh? Oh y-yeah,” Sean stammered. “It’s cool, just go.”

“Hang tight, okay? It’ll be all good. We'll leave when I get back.”

“Thanks…probably best.”

“Love you Diaz,” Finn smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek.

As he watched Finn head off the veranda and over to the restrooms, Sean chugged the rest of his beer and ordered another, still keeping an eye on that figure in the corner. The man never removed his sunglasses, but he swore their eyes had met several times. As the slow run of alcohol started to work its magic, Sean began to relax. Another two beers appeared at the counter for him. He was about to crack open his fourth before he realized he’d never ordered it. Uh-oh. He quickly summoned the bartender over just in case she’d made some mistake, or if it might be for someone else. Yeah…that has to be it. Don’t freak out, dude.

“Uh, discúlpame, por favor!” he called.

“Puedo ayudarte?” the woman asked.

“Ordené esto?”

“Ah, no, el hombre de allí lo hizo.”

“Oh…uh, mucho gracias!”

“De nada,” she smiled, returning to her other patrons.

“Yeah. Thought so,” Sean muttered to himself.

Now he was just irritated. Maybe it was the beer taking hold of his senses, or maybe he was just fed up with running and hiding all the time with his metaphorical tail stuck between his legs. He didn’t know which and didn’t care to figure it out at the moment. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Sean backed away from the bar and made his way over, resolving to put an end to the mystery once and for all. He worked his way through a small group of people and past a woman stumbling over laughing as she spilled her drink over a bar stool. All the while, he kept the older man in his sights, just in case he was about to bolt and make a run for it. But to Sean’s surprise, he stayed seated--even looking on in his direction. When the boy finally reached him, he took a seat up on the opposite stool at the table.

“Can I help you, dude?”

The man simply smiled and removed his sunglasses.

“Took you long enough,” he said, sucking down the last of his margarita. “Should’ve brought the beer I bought you. You’re probably going to need it.”

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you?”

“Name's Will Parker.” He extended his hand in a friendly greeting, but Sean crossed his arms. No way am I touching this creep. “No? Okay. More specifically,” the man said, digging in his inner jacket pocket to produce what looked like a wallet. Sean’s heart dropped to his stomach as he unfolded the thing to reveal a shiny golden badge. Oh no… “Special Agent Parker, FBI.”

“What the...!” Sean panicked, stumbling off the stool and knocking it over. A billion thoughts shot through his mind in an instant. How…how did they find me? Now, after all this time? How much do they know? What do they know? Do they know I killed people? Do they know I kidnapped Mindi? Do they know about Gilberto and the drugs? Do they know about-

“Now wait, wait, wait!” the man rose up to stop him. In his mind, Sean was already running. Running out of that cocktail lounge, running down the street. Running past Finn. Running back to the auto shop to grab a vehicle they’d previously loaded with drugs and speeding away. Driving away. Just running. Forever. But in reality, he froze. He just…froze. “Relax, okay? Listen to me carefully, Sean,” Parker said. “Please. I’m not here to arrest you, I’m not here to take you in. I’m definitely not here to hurt you. So just…sit down, and I promise I’ll explain everything. And after that, if you want to leave...you're free to, and I won’t bother you ever again. Understood? Can you do that?”

Sean at last turned around in a panic, still shaking, unexpectedly more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.

“I, uh…y-yeah, sure,” the boy nodded nervously as he sat, looking back toward the bar. Finn still hadn’t returned yet.

“I'm sorry,” the man said in earnest. “That was stupid of me.”

“Okay...so if you’re not going to arrest me, then...what the fuck do you want?” Sean asked.

“The situation is a little complicated," Parker sighed, glancing around them. "This isn't the best place to talk, so I’ll be as upfront as I can for now. You should know...there was an incident with your brother last summer in Beaver Creek.”

“What?!” Sean exclaimed. “Daniel? I-Is he-“

“Daniel is fine,” the man assured him. “We have agents up there keeping a…distant eye on him. But Sean, something went down up there, and we have reason to believe it might be connected to you.”

“To me? That’s impossible! How?”

“A hitman showed up to take him out in May of last year,” the man said, placing two black and white photographs on the table in front of him. Sean slid them over to take a closer look. One of them was a distance shot of Daniel walking with what seemed to be a new dog that bore a vague resemblance to Mushroom. Damn, Claire and Stephen must've spoiled him. The other photo showed Chris walking alone down a side street. Sean was awestruck for a moment. Both boys looked older than he remembered, though not by much. Still unmistakably kids. But it was good to see them alive. “Fortunately, he got the wrong house,” Parker continued. “Ended up at your grandparents’ neighbors, the Eriksens.”

“Shit!“

“Charles and Chris are fine, too. Thanks to your brother.”

“So…what does this all have to do with me again?”

“Okay, first of all, I need to know if you’re able to trust me, given everything I've said so far.”

“I mean,” Sean shrugged, gazing back at his previous spot at the bar. Finn had just returned to order more cocktails, even as he looked around in confusion for him. For now anyway, the view of Parker’s table was obscured by a rowdy group of college kids in front of them. “Look, I want to, but I just met you! How the fuck do I know for sure you’re not just gonna turn me in?"

“I understand,” Parker nodded. “So what if I took you to someone you can trust? Someone you already know. Right here, in the bar.”

Sean smirked, incredulous.

“And who would that be?”

“Follow me,” Parker smiled. The boy felt apprehensive, but went along anyway as the kind older man got up from his seat to lead the way. Well…we’re still in public, Sean reasoned. No one’s gonna try shit out here. They stepped down from the white platform that housed the bar onto a lower section, making their way to the far right across the decks to a vacant, closed off area where various tables were set up for reservation. The space was empty. But there in the back on the left, closest to the open beach, sat a young woman in a white floral dress and flowing dark hair. And though she had sunglasses on, Sean immediately recognized her distinctive face. Agent Flores. What the hell is she doing here?!

“Oh no,” he breathed angrily. “Hell no! Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Relax,” Parker said firmly. “Just try to hear her out. Okay?”

“Whatever.” As they arrived at the table, Sean immediately crossed his arms and stood off to the side. She looked up in curiosity as she removed her sunglasses, closing a folder of what appeared to be case files laid out in front of her. But she didn’t smile. In fact, she looked rather grim.

“Hello Sean,” she said. “It’s good to see you in one piece. Please,” she motioned, “have a seat.”

“No.”

“I can understand if you're still angry at me after all these years-”

“Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it!” the boy snapped, clenching his teeth.

“Look,” she sighed, clasping her hands over the table. “We’re not here to turn you in. In fact, that’s the last thing we want. But I am hoping we can talk for a few minutes. After that? You’re free to get back to your cocktails and go on your way. You have my word. But first…we could really use your help.”

"I'm not helping you with jack shit!"

"Even if it has to do with Daniel?"

Sean let out a long breath and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Whatever,” he said, pulling out the chair opposite her to sit down. “So I get why Parker's here. But what the hell are you doing in Mexico?”

“Officially? Visiting my son and my mother.”

“You don’t have some kind of case you’re working on?”

“Not exactly. Sean…I left the FBI two years ago," she explained. "I never looked back. The work was...getting to me. That’s the short version, anyway. But that said, with circumstances being what they now are…I feel a certain obligation to help. After I left, I maintained a few trusted friends and contacts in the Bureau who kept me up to speed on things with Daniel. Parker here is one of them. Together, we escorted your brother back to Beaver Creek. He took quite a liking to us,” she smiled. “He trusts us, Sean. All I ask is that right now, you do the same.”

“Okay,” the boy nodded, leaning over the table. “I’m listening.”

Flores opened the file on the table, glancing over it as she began to go over things. As Sean peeked at the pages, he saw photographs of various vehicles he and Finn had previously worked on, now seized by the US Border Patrol. Shit. They know. Others contained a series of maps with red lines drawn across them, all leading up to Portland, then east, skirting around a certain area of Oregon.

“Our colleague Agent Michaels has been working a case up in Portland for some time, tracking shipments of drugs going up the west coast after they cross the border. For whatever reason, none of those shipments have come into Beaver Creek. At first, we thought it might be due to the FBI presence in the area keeping track of your brother. However, it’s now been a year since we pulled out, and they haven’t budged. We still don’t know why. Now for the fun part,” she said, leaning back and crossing her arms. “We know you’ve been working for the Sonora cartel, and that an attempt on your brother’s life was made. So far, that’s all we have to go on. So if there’s anything you know, anything at all that might be helpful-”

“I don’t know shit!” Sean cut her off in a hushed voice. “I swear…look, I only got into business to pay them back after this one American chick-”

“Melinda Whitcomb?”

“Yeah! You know about her?” he gasped.

“Everyone does. Her death made the national news,” Flores said, flipping to a coroner’s report with autopsy photographs. “Body was found washed up on the south banks of the Thames River in London. She was killed by a mafia group with ties to the Sonora cartel. But I take it you didn’t know?”

“No! God, no. Shit,” Sean breathed, looking on in shock at the photos of her corpse.

“So…you ripped her off. Then what?”

“I didn’t rip her off! I got her out of a trafficking situation and she gave me the money they wanted for her ransom. She said it would cover my freedom, too. Then she skipped town. After that, I realized it was only enough to pay off her own debts. So I kept it.”

“Who wanted the ransom?”

“A man named Gilberto Garcia. He runs the whole operation,” the boy admitted. Parker immediately whipped out his phone to make a call, but Flores held up a hand to stop him. “He took me and my friends hostage and basically said if we didn’t work off my debt, he was going to kill us.”

“I see,” Flores said. “And what about the hit on Daniel? Is there anything you did or knew that might cause him to want to go after your family?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Sean sighed, cradling himself for warmth from the seaside chill. “Maybe he figured it was a way to keep us working for him? That’s the best I got. Unless…shit!”

“What is it?”

“His daughter. I forget her name, but this other guy I was working with at the time told me Gilberto had her shipped off to the States. Something about keeping her safe.”

“And away from his drug activities…” Flores thought aloud.

“Now we know why they’re avoiding Beaver Creek,” Parker remarked.

“Not quite,” the woman pointed out. “That piece of shit Michaels picked up spoke about an upcoming investment in the area…what did he mean by that?”

“Would’ve helped to find that out before you put the bullet in his head, just saying,” Parker shrugged.

“Yes,” Flores admitted. “My second lapse in judgment at the time.”

“So what happens next?” Sean asked, shivering in the breeze.

Flores looked nervously between him and Parker as she calculated their next move.

“Will…you need to be the one to take charge here,” she said. “I will help as best I can of course, but. I’m not with the Bureau anymore. I left for a reason, and I have a son to look after down here. I can’t break international laws, especially after the stir I caused getting the FBI out of Beaver Creek. Even my being in Puerto Lobos right now is dangerous. And suspect, if the Polícia Federal discovers us working together.”

“I understand,” the man acknowledged.

“Your call.”

“Well…first we're going to need leverage. It’s too early to tip off the Polícia Federal until we have Gilberto’s daughter in custody, which is going to take some time. And warrants,” Parker sighed, looking off toward the sun as it set over the distant waves. He turned back to Sean. “Look, for now, I’m going to need you to keep doing whatever it is you’re doing for the cartel. At least until we figure this mess out. And don’t raise any suspicions. None! Just keep your head down and try to focus on the work, okay? We’ll handle the rest.”

“Got it,” Sean breathed, slumping over the table.

“Hang tight,” the man assured him with a pat on the back. “We’ll get this guy. I promise.”

“Right. Well, I should be getting back to my partner. He’s probably worried sick by now,” Sean said, rising wearily from the chair. There would be a lot to mentally process for the night, and he felt the weight of it as he stood. Probably best not to tell Finn about any of this. Even though he’ll know something’s up once he's sober. That guy is way too perceptive.

“Thank you for all your help, Sean,” Flores nodded.

“No problemo,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. “And hey…I really do appreciate you looking out for Daniel, by the way. Seriously.”

“Seems like the least I can do, right?”

“Guess you have a heart after all,” he chuckled.

“Or I’ve just left it in México all these years,” she smiled, watching the sunset. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Adiós amigos,” Sean nodded to them both. As he turned and walked back down the wooden deck path and headed for the bar, a thought suddenly occurred to him. If Gilberto’s daughter, whoever she is, is really in Beaver Creek…maybe it’s possible Daniel knows her somehow? I just need to find out her name. Jorgé had said she was around his age, right? Shit. I need some way of getting in contact with him. But how? I can’t make it obvious, or I’ll get the FBI back on Daniel’s case and fuck up their whole operation down here. Or get one of us killed…huh. Maybe…Captain Spirit can help?

Sean arrived back at the bar and rejoined Finn, who by now was too drunk to notice he’d been gone for the past fifteen minutes. He eagerly cracked open the beer Parker had bought him prior. The man was right. He would need it for what came next.

Chapter Text

Oct. 22, 2021

Chris stood in the shower, furiously shampooing his hair as he sung along to Icona Pop’s ‘All Night’, one of about fifty songs he’d selected to get himself pumped up for date nights with Daniel. The waterfall of red washing down the drain at his feet reminded him of blood, which seemed nicely fitting for the Halloween season, but not so much for his head. Going full Manic Panic red somehow made him feel less like Captain Spirit and more like an anime character—not that he’d intended it, of course. But his dad had refused to take him to get his color professionally touched up, so he’d resorted to borrowing a bottle from Natalie. Ugh, I just hope Daniel doesn’t think I look too stupid.

His phone dinged again as he finished up and turned off the water. It had been blowing up every few minutes for the past half-hour with an array of vibrations and ping noises. Natalie must be desperate for our fashion check-in. Tonight was their first time having a double date. Chris would be with Daniel of course, while Natalie was bringing along Mariska, the girl she’d been crushing on since middle school who had recently come out as bisexual. How well that was going to go for Natalie was anybody’s guess. They seemed to vaguely hate each other. Still, Chris hoped they would all have fun. At least Natalie will enjoy seeing Coco. The boy stepped out of the tub as his phone went off another few times. Must be the one-minute reminders.

“Didn’t think I was that popular,” he chuckled, shutting off his music and grabbing the device off the edge of the sink. He looked over the notifications on his lock screen. Natalie had been texting him obsessively. “Guess I better answer."

Chris scrolled through the rest of his notifications. Some were from Daniel, reminding him of the time and arranging pickup for Natalie and Mariska. Scattered Twitter notifications, Discord messages he didn’t care about. But there was one from an Instagram in particular that caught his eye from a user he didn’t recognize, and yet something about the name seemed vaguely familiar. Chris grabbed the clean towel off the top of the toilet and wrapped it around himself as he sat on the edge of the tub. LocoRunner2016. He tapped the notification and pulled up the chat box to see two messages.

He checked the timestamps aside them. They’d been delivered five minutes apart, and only about ten minutes prior. Chris had his name listed on his profile of course, so it was no surprise the person knew who he was. What felt so incredibly strange, however, was that name. He rolled the phrase over and over again in his mind, trying to figure it out. Once he came to the only logical conclusion, his mouth dropped open.

“Oh shit…” He immediately texted back.

“Fuck!” the boy breathed. “Shit, shit, shit.” His phone dinged again. Daniel.

He hated lying to his boyfriend, but there wasn’t much else he could do. Daniel certainly couldn’t find out, or he’d freak and it would ruin their entire date night. Chris switched back to the conversation with Sean, still flabbergasted. And slightly pissed off. It’s been four years and Daniel hasn’t heard a fucking thing from you, dude. I had to take care of him on all those nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you so much. So why reach out now? What the fuck is going on? He typed a passive-aggressive response.

“Don’t tell Daniel? Are you fucking insane? Jesus, you’re an asshole. Whatever,” he sighed, responding with a thumbs up emoji. Eh, it’s a little heartless, but what does he honestly expect? Then a second thought occurred to him. What if Sean was in some kind of danger? Chris considered it a moment, trying his best to gain some perspective. He still couldn’t. Not when it had been that long. Even if the FBI was a problem for Daniel—which they weren’t anymore—Sean would have found a way. There was just no excuse at this point. Still, that was pretty dick of me. He added a response.

His phone dinged again with more messages from Daniel, saying he was heading over. Fuck. Chris sighed and dropped his phone on the shower rug. He buried his face in his hands. No matter how much fun they were about to have that night, he knew the awkward exchange with Sean would be clinging to his mind like a dark shadow for all of it. He wanted to tell Daniel. He’d wanted to tell him a lot of things over the years, but he just couldn’t. Both because he knew he should be strong on his own, and because secrets always seemed to get between them. Man, now I know he felt with telling me about Cat.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Come on, Captain Spirit. Just get dressed and try to enjoy the night.” God, I hope my hair doesn’t suck.

*          *          *

Song: M83 – Midnight City

The group of young teens had all piled into the back of Charles’s truck for the ride to the movie theater downtown. With a crisp night air whipping around them amid blurring lights, the atmosphere was altogether lively, yet mysterious. Chris held fast to Daniel and listened to the mindless chatter surrounding him. A twinge of anxiety always bit at his nerves whenever he rode in the truck with his dad, but he felt safe knowing Daniel was there to keep watch in case anything went wrong. For now, the two held hands. Cuddling around Charles, even if it was in the back, was a bit too risky. The man would check his rearview mirror like a hawk sometimes.

“Damn, it’s getting chilly for the end of October,” Chris said.

“I like the cold,” Natalie quipped, brushing a few strands of windswept hair out of her face. “Gives the season some character. Plus you almost forget about the global warming scary stuff happening.”

“Too fucking cold for me!” Mariska shivered. “I need my space heater. And how the hell do you sleep with a fan on in wintertime? Like are you psycho?”

“Better to snuggle under the covers with,” Daniel shrugged.

“Right? Some of us need the body heat, love,” Natalie grinned, grabbing Mariska’s hand.

“All I know is that I’m riding shotgun on the way back.”

“With my dad?” Chris laughed.

“Yeah, not the best idea!” Daniel chuckled.

“Why not? Natalie can sit in the middle, right?”

“Um…” the blood red-haired boy said, looking to Daniel, “you definitely don’t want to sit next to him.”

“Yeah, he kinda stinks!” his boyfriend laughed.

“And I am not sitting up there anyways, I don’t care how warm it is!” Natalie said firmly, adjusting her skirt. “We’ll pick up some of those hand warmer thingies on the way back at the Z-Mart. Or you can always stuff your fingers in my vaj if you’re that cold,” she grinned, grabbing Mariska’s hand.

“Gross!” the girl exclaimed. “I mean…not in public Nat, come on.”

“I’m joking!”

“Well I don’t feel like joking when I’m freezing my tits off, okay?

“Pampered rich bitch,” Nat rolled eyes.

“I’m not that rich!”

“Okay Miss ‘My Dad Owns The Ski Lodge’. Are you even bi, or are you doing this shit to be trendy?”

“Um, why would I come out to be trendy?”

“I don’t know, but you don’t seem that comfortable with female attention! Besides it’s not like you ever noticed me in middle school.”

“Well that was middle school, Natalie! I was a dumb shit back then. People change, you know? Plus it’s not like I can be out. My dad would totally fucking end me.”

“Guys, can we please not fight?” Daniel interjected.

“Yeah,” Chris sighed. “I feel like we both do that enough for everyone.” He looked up at Daniel, who planted a kiss on the side of his head and held him close. Risky, but whatever, the boy thought.

“I just get a little sick of being the perfect daughter,” Mariska sighed. “Not that you’d understand that.”

“Sorry,” Natalie said, leaning into her. “I don’t mean to be an ass. I know it’s a lot of pressure.”

“You know, my dad wants ‘Miss Ski Lodge’ and ‘Mr. Son of Civil Engineer’ to get together. You believe that shit?”

“Engineer would be a terrible last name for you!” her girlfriend laughed. “You can have mine.”

“Hargrove does have a better ring to it.”

“How ‘bout us?” Daniel asked. “I like the sound of Daniel Eriksen. We’d be super cute,” he smiled.

“Are you kidding? Christopher Diaz sounds much better,” the formerly blond boy said, kissing Daniel’s neck.

“Whoa, that’s a no-no spot!”

“Oh really now? ‘Cause I’ll kiss all your other no-no spots later,” Chris giggled, lifting his shirt to blow a raspberry on his stomach.

“Stop!” Daniel laughed, ruffling his hair as the boy looked up from his lap.

“You know you love me.”

“I do.” They gave each other a quick peck on the lips. Natalie leaned her head on Mariska’s shoulder with a sigh, smiling in adoration.

“You guys are too adorable. See, why can’t we have what they have?”

“Who knows, maybe we will,” Mariska said, kissing her cheek.

As the truck at last pulled off the main road and drove toward the city center, Chris felt Daniel let go of him. They had just passed the Mile Post Restaurant and Z-Mart, which stood aside the open Christmas market and Top Fir grocery on the left. A troubled, almost distant expression had fallen over his boyfriend’s face. Chris knew what he was thinking, but asked anyway.

“You okay dude?”

“I don’t know…just always get an eerie feeling coming down this way,” the boy said, shivering for the first time since they’d left the house. “You remember when we picked out that crooked witch tree?”

“Oh man, that thing was the ugliest Christmas tree we ever had!” Chris laughed. “But at least I got the new PlayBox and some decent presents out of my dad.”

“I only got one. From Sean,” Daniel breathed. “My Christmas kind of sucked that year. Maybe yours did too, but. I wish I’d got to spend it with you, Chris. I wish we could’ve stayed here and spent it with Gram and Grandpa. And I wish Sean would’ve…whatever,” he sniffled.

Chris felt his heart skip a beat. A sudden wave of nausea overtook his stomach at the thought that Daniel’s missing brother was merely an Instagram message away. That right now, all he had to do was text him, and the two could finally get to talking again for the first time in four long years. But he couldn’t. Because for whatever reason, Sean didn’t want that. ‘I just have some complicated shit to take care of.’ Bullshit. What a selfish prick. What could possibly be so complicated that you can’t talk to your own fucking brother yourself? Why should I be the one holding this secret right now? It didn’t make sense, but then again, few things about the Diaz boys ever did.

Chris thought back, too, to the day the cops had shown up at the Reynolds when they’d been forced to run again. That look of fear and hesitation on Daniel’s face. The one he gave after saving him from the speeding police car, just before Sean had whisked him away. That look of sadness, of guilt, of shame. The look of utter helplessness. The look that said ‘I want to stay’. It was not one Chris would ever forget, because for so long, he’d convinced himself it would be the last.

And yet the funny thing in all of that was, Daniel still blamed himself. In fact, it seemed he’d always been the one taking full responsibility for things outside his control. But Chris never blamed him. No. He blamed the source. He blamed Sean. He blamed Sean for everything, including all the ensuing days he’d spent in tears following their departure, plus all the days Daniel had spent on the road, risking his life god-knows-where. And now, there that infernal boy was again, looming over the night like a dark shadow he couldn’t get rid of. Like a demon. Like Mantroid. And Chris hated him for it.

“Maybe I never told you this,” he said, holding Daniel’s hand. “But it’s not your fault. Okay? None of that shit was. I know you wanted to stay, and you would have if you could.”

“Thanks, Chris. Maybe you’re right. It’s just for years, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Every time we had to leave, it was something I did. Like I didn’t listen enough, or I complained too much, or I made too many mistakes-”

“Shut up,” the boy replied, cutting him off with a deep, slow kiss to remind Daniel of their first time. “You were what, nine years old back then? How could you know any better?”

“Yeah, but I was a nine year-old with super…” Daniel stopped, remembering Natalie and Mariska were with them. “Eh, we should probably talk about it later.” The truck had already pulled up aside the entrance of The Eagle Cinema, a classic outfit open since the 1960’s that played only two films at a time, usually from previous years. The choices tonight were between Coco and Arrival. They’d all agreed on the former.

“Hey, you don't have to stop talking because of us,” Nat defended, standing up with the rest of the group. “We’re cool.”

“Yeah, but some things are secret,” Chris said.

“Ugh, I’ve probably seen Coco like, a million times,” Mariska sighed.

“I’ve never seen it, so I can’t wait!” Daniel smiled excitedly.

“Okay, hold up!” Nat exclaimed as they all hopped out the back of the truck one-by-one. “How the hell has the only Mexican kid here never seen Coco?”

“It’s uh…kind of a long story.”

“Yeah, like an action movie!” Chris added. “We should totally write a script about it sometime. The Daring Adventures of Captain Spirit and Super Wolf!”

“Spirit Squad United!” the boys said in unison, doing their trademark team signal of arms crossed over their chests as they laughed together.

“You guys are so lame, but I love it,” Natalie giggled, whipping out her phone. “Okay Chris, you think we can get your dad to take a picture of all of us?”

“If he’s not six beers into his twelve-pack by now. And do we have to? My hair looks hideous.”

“I kinda like it,” Daniel assured him.

“Me too!” Nat said. “It’s definitely not a bad look on you, now shut up and put your arm around you boyfriend.” Chris obliged and kissed his cheek as she snapped a picture. “And…done! Aw, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she squealed. “I’m totally tagging you both.”

“Great, I can’t wait for all the comments on my shitty hair!” the boy laughed nervously. “Hold on, I’ll get my dad so we can all take one.” He plodded the few feet over to the driver’s side, already worried about the fact that his father had yet to exit the truck, which was unusual. Was he actually drinking, despite Chris’s jokes? Had he seen his son kissing Daniel, or overheard them? God, I hope not. Charles lowered the window as he drew near. Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets, shivering in the cold, but also trying to hide the fact he was trembling. Fuck anxiety. “Everything cool, Dad?”

“Everything except that stupid hair of yours!” the man smirked. "Thought I told you not to do that." Chris could smell the alcohol on his breath. Fuck. “Jesus Christ, what were you thinking?!”

“I-I’m sorry! I just-”

“When I say no, I mean no!” the man snapped, banging his hands angrily on the steering wheel. “You know what? Just forget it. Enjoy your time with those dumb little friends of yours,” he spat, turning his gaze back to the road ahead.

“Are you seriously drunk right now?”

“Not as much as I wish I was, considering the things I saw going on in the back of my truck,” Charles scoffed, gulping down the last of his beer. He looked back at Chris with disgust in his eyes. “You a fag? Huh?!”

“D-Dad, I…” the boy stammered. The weight of those words cut through him like a thousand daggers to the heart. “I can explain, I-”

“Yeah, thought so. Fuck off!” his father sneered, hurling the empty can at him. When the projectile stopped just short of his face and tumbled to the ground with a clink, Chris suddenly remembered he wasn’t alone. His dad reached down to the ignition to start the truck. The keys were no longer there.

“What the…fuck?” Charles gasped, slapping his hands around in the dark as he searched the seats and flooring around him in a panic. He found nothing. Chris squinted in the dark and noticed that the passenger side window was now open. Sure enough, Daniel came marching around the front of the vehicle with a pissed expression on his face.

“Here,” he said, tossing the keys to him. “You good?”

“I am now,” Chris breathed a sigh of relief, still shaking as he hugged him. “Thank you!”

“No problem.”

“Hey! You little shits took my keys, didn’t you!” Charles grumbled angrily. Chris stepped forward, feeling much more confident now as he dangled them triumphantly in the air.

“Sorry Dad, you’re not going anywhere!”

“HEY!” the man shouted. He reached for the handle to open the door, but Daniel quickly blocked it with his power. “Fuck!”

“You done yet?”

“Holy shit, what’s going on!” Natalie rushed to join them.

“Nothing!” Chris snapped, storming off toward the theater. Daniel lingered behind the rest of the group a moment, still glaring at Charles, even as the man shut both his windows and plopped his head against the steering wheel. “Come on, Daniel,” the boy called hoarsely. “It’s done.”

“Not as long as he keeps hurting you,” the young wolf teen muttered as he rounded the back of the truck. Chris had sat down on the edge of the curb with his face in his hands now as Natalie and Mariska knelt to comfort him. The boy sniffled. Much as he knew Daniel wasn’t at fault for all the bad things that happened on his own journey, Chris just couldn’t say the same for himself. His father had pounded the thought into his psyche from an early age that his mother’s death was his fault, and so he’d come to feel the same responsibility whenever it came to his dad’s drinking. Maybe I didn’t help out enough around the house this week, maybe I didn’t make his breakfast the right way, maybe I didn’t wake him up early enough for work today, maybe I read him the wrong basketball game scores, maybe…no man. Stop it.

“I’m so sorry guys,” he cried. “I really didn’t think he was going to drink, not with us all in the truck! You could've been hurt. Guess I really fucked up your night, huh?”

“Sweetie, no!” Natalie said, putting an arm around him. “This isn’t your fault Chris, so don’t you dare even think that, okay?”

“Yeah dude, it’s definitely not,” Mariska added. “Trust me, my uncle used to be the same way. At least until he collided with a semi and rolled his car into a ditch. Lost his license and couldn’t drive for ten years. He certainly got help after that.”

“Ugh Rissa, do you really have to be that morbid?” Natalie frowned.

“What, I thought you like morbid.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chris sniffled, kicking absently at the gravel. Deep down, he knew he felt far more ashamed than he should. “Not like my dad ever listens anyway.” As Daniel joined them, Nat and Mariska shuffled aside to make room for him on the curb. He sat down on the left, cuddling Chris close.  

“We still got ten minutes before the show, you want to give them some time?” Natalie whispered behind them.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Mariska replied, “let’s grab our snacks and get warm.”

“Okay. Hey, so we’re going to head in, all right?” Nat addressed them. “We’ll wait for you just outside the theater.”

“Thanks,” Daniel nodded, cradling the scrawny boy in his arms. Chris closed his eyes a moment and rested his head in his best friend’s lap after the girls left, savoring every second of closeness as Daniel softly stroked his hair and planted sweet kisses on his cheeks now and then. If he could’ve chosen a single moment in which to die content, this would have been it. Right here, in front of The Eagle Cinema, a place his mother had loved coming to in the summer before she passed. In fact, the last time Chris had even been to the movies was with her and his father.

He remembered them all together that December a few days before the big snowstorm hit, huddled in the freezing balcony section watching Big Hero 6. The heating system had failed, so the staff on duty gave him as much free popcorn as he wanted to make up for it. And though he’d still been a bit young to understand all of the film, that was what he remembered most. The last time they were all happy together. The last time he’d seen his dad truly sober. The last time he recalled his mother smiling. The last time he had a family.

“Hey Chris?” Daniel said.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Is your dad going to be okay? We kind of just left him locked in the truck.”

“Eh…he’ll sleep it off. He always does.” Chris at last opened his eyes to see Daniel staring down into his. He smiled.

“I really do love you, you know?”

“I know,” the boy grinned. “I love you too. Look Daniel, I have to…” Chris trailed off as his eyes caught sight of something green up in the distance. Something haunting. A spectre of the past. An enigma. A street name. And somewhere deep within his consciousness, he heard the familiar menacing laugh of his greatest fear, and his greatest childhood enemy. Mantroid. “HAHAHAHAHA!” the voice bellowed Oh no. He jolted off of Daniel’s lap and turned, pushing himself upward from the weathered concrete curb. He leapt to his feet. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. “Oh no…oh no, no, no, no, no, shit I forgot! No! He’s back! He’s here…”

“Chris, what is it? What’s wrong, who’s here?” But the boy barely heard him, and even though he saw Daniel calling his name, no sound reached his ears. It was drowned out by that horrible, awful laughter in the back of his mind. Chris whirled around in a panic as his heart began to pound in his chest, eyes darting in every which direction, taking in the sudden enormity of all the sights and sounds on that particular street as if he were a child again. His skin felt hot. His head felt faint. His throat went dry. He choked in the cold air, lumbering forward now, making his way toward that fated sign at the edge of the intersection like he was back on Mantroid’s home planet.   

“This street…I forgot what…street this was!” he gasped, heaving. “Th..that’s why…that’s why my dad was drinking! Fuck, we shouldn’t have come here!”

“Chris, breathe, it’s going to be okay, it’s just a panic attack!” Daniel rushed toward him, hanging onto his friend for dear life from behind as the boy tripped forward. Short of breath, Chris slowly extended an arm and pointed up at the evil thing. “Look at me dude, okay? I'm right here, please just tell me what’s wrong!”

“I never told you what Mantroid was, did I?” the boy cried, falling to his knees in his boyfriend’s arms as he kept pointing at the street signs. “Look!” Daniel at last turned his gaze upward, putting things together for himself. He sounded out the words.

“Mantle Street…Asteroid Drive. Mantle. Asteroid…Mant-roid? Mantroid!” he gasped. “Oh god Chris, is this where…”

“Yeah!” the boy nodded, whimpering. “It’s where my mom died. This is where she fucking died!” his voice cracked as he sobbed. “Right across the street there. She was just walking back to her car with a bag of Christmas presents, and then…wham!” he wept.

“Oh Chris, I’m so sorry!” Daniel exclaimed, hugging the dejected boy tighter than he’d ever been hugged in his life. “I’m here dude, I’m right here, I’m never leaving you! I promise!”

But all Chris could think about in that moment was that eventually, his beloved Super Wolf would. Because that’s what Mantroid said, and that’s what always happened. Everyone always left him. It was just his shit luck as an Eriksen. And also because amid the whipping winds and blurring lights of an otherwise peaceful downtown atmosphere, he’d been far too upset about the distant memory of his mother to tell Daniel anything about the other unbearable secret hanging over them. Sean.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.    

Chapter Text

Daniel kept a close eye on his friends gathered under the nearby streetlight just outside Willie’s Diner as he made a call home to Claire. The group had done their best to enjoy the movie, all things considered. But after a half-hour or so, Chris decided he felt too uncomfortable with leaving his dad alone in the truck. Cops patrolled the downtown area quite frequently after all, and they didn’t want to risk him getting slapped with a DUI charge just for sleeping it off in a parked vehicle. Even if he did rightly deserve it, Chris would get shipped off to his grandparents again and both he and Daniel would be devastated. So they’d made a quick change in plans and called Charles an Uber, opting for the diner instead. Claire didn’t trust Uber for the kids. She trusted Charles even less, which meant this was going to be a fun conversation.

“Come on, pick up,” Daniel sighed, listening to the ring tone. “Finally.”  

“Hello?”    

“Hey Grandma.”

“Oh hi sweetie. Everything going okay?”

“Well…not exactly.”

“Uh-oh. What’s going on?” she asked, almost as if she’d been expecting something bad to happen.

“Charles is having his usual problems again,” the boy sighed. “We took his keys and Chris called him an Uber, so. We might need a ride back home.”

“Oh Lord, and you got in the car with him?”

“Just on the way here,” Daniel explained. “But we’re all okay, plus I kept an eye on things with my…you know. In case he got wasted.”

“Well, superpowers or not, I don’t ever want you getting in a car with someone who’s been drinking! You know better than that, Daniel.”

“I know, but I honestly didn’t even realize until after we got to the theater! I promise I won’t do it again, Grandma. Everyone is fine now, we just changed our plans and went to Willie’s instead.”

“Oh all right,” Claire sighed. “I’m just glad you and your friends are safe. What time should I swing by to get you?”

“Uh…I guess I’ll just call you when we’re done, if that’s okay? Maybe around eight, eight-thirty.”

“Okay, sounds good. Do you kids have enough money for food?”

“Duh! I keep telling you guys a hundred is more than enough,” Daniel laughed.

“Well you know,” his grandfather chimed in, “we just like to make sure our grandson is well taken care of until he’s old enough get us a good nursing home!”

“Stephen, shame on you!” Claire scolded him.

“Ooh, the plot thickens!” the boy giggled. Much as he hated to admit it, they could be rather cute together sometimes. Man, I hope me and Chris are just like that when we’re old. “Anyway…you guys think it’d be all right if Chris comes over for the weekend?” he asked. “I just don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone with his dad yet.”

“Oh of course, honey! It’s probably for the best anyway. You know Chris is always welcome with us. Just be sure both of you get to bed at a decent hour. And no loud noises or-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel rolled his eyes. “We’ll be good Grandma. Promise.”

“Good. And I do appreciate you checking in with us.”

“Well…you’re kinda the only grandparents I’ve got,” he chuckled.

“Oh Lord, you’ve been spending too much time around my husband, I see!” she laughed. “Love you sweetie. Stay safe, I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Grandma. Love you too. Later.”

Daniel hung up and plodded back to rejoin his friends, thankful that a major crisis had been averted. As he made his way toward the group, the old streetlight above him buzzed and crackled in the autumn chill. Something about it made him stop in his tracks. As he observed them there, laughing and sharing stories from their lives in his absence, his thoughts drifted to what little of Coco they’d seen. What kind of stories might the dead tell if they could? Daniel had to wonder if maybe that was what it felt like to be…gone. Wanting to tell your story, but being unable to. Man. If only the dead could really visit us. I’d want to see my dad. His eyes fell to the movie theater across the street, and the eerie eyesore of Charles’s empty truck. Then to that haunting, crooked street sign Chris had pointed at. The one that, in his mind, had taken his mother’s life.

Shit. I can sorta relate. He’d almost forgotten that the five-year anniversary of his own father’s death was coming up in a week. Maybe…we should talk about this kind of stuff? It seemed odd that they never had before. Then again, Daniel reasoned it was because they’d each been through far too much in their childhoods to be able to focus on anything but moving forward. Now that they were older—and together, and things seemed to be settling down—he felt it might warrant discussion at some point. Both of them had lost parents, after all.

But Charles only cares that he lost a wife, the boy pondered. He doesn’t understand that Chris lost a mom. Wonder if there’s something I could do. Claire and Stephen were compassionate enough to hold an annual vigil in memory of Esteban every October 28^th. Maybe I’ll invite him over next week for it. Daniel wasn’t sure if Chris had ever done something special like that for his mother, but he sure as hell deserved it. He let out a sigh and continued on toward his friends, who stood up from their place on the front steps of the restaurant to greet him as he returned.

“So what’d your grandma say?” Chris asked.

“I told her I’d call her again when we’re done,” Daniel replied. “She’ll swing by around eight to pick us up.”

“Cool, I’d be shit outta luck without a ride home,” Natalie said.

“Can we go in now?” Mariska shivered. “I’m really freezing my ass off!”

“Yeah! Uh, same,” Daniel answered quickly so Nat wouldn’t have the chance to complain about her complaining again. For good measure, he hopped up the stairs to hold the door for everyone as they entered. “After you guys,” he motioned.

“Aww, you’re so sweet babe,” Chris smiled.

“Right?” Natalie remarked. “Hell, I’d turn straight if more guys were like you! Well…maybe,” she giggled.

“There’s always Lucas,” Daniel nudged her as they made their way in.

“Ew, he’s like my brother! Besides, isn’t he distance dating some smart chick in Silicon Valley?”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Chris laughed. “Kid’s totally gonna be the next Steve Jobs.”

“Another reason that’s off the table,” she sighed. “Why aren’t there any rich women in tech?”

“Well, you could have that,” Mariska chuckled. “Or…you could have a rich girl who moves other mountains.”

“Mmm, I like your mountains,” Natalie grinned, leaning into her chest.

“Ahem!” Mariska cleared her throat as the middle-aged hostess with short-cropped blond hair lumbered toward the group. Natalie jumped forward and stood at attention, plastering a fake smile on her face, while Chris and Daniel moved in front of them.

“Welcome to Willie’s,” the woman smiled somewhat reluctantly. “My name is Cheryl and I have the distinct…yet unexpected…pleasure of seating and serving you tonight!”

“Oh my god, hey Cheryl!” Chris lit up and leaned in to hug her. Daniel and the girls exchanged confused looks with the hostess.

“I’m sorry, but who the hell are…Chris?!” the woman exclaimed as he stepped back. “Jesus Christ kiddo, I didn’t recognize you with the red hair! How the hell have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“About three years, at least.”

“Well you’re lookin’ handsome, keep up the skincare and you’ll stay that way! Or at least that’s what Miss Botox had the nerve to tell me before she walked out on her shift tonight,” the woman rolled her eyes.

“Oh shit, Botox finally left?” Chris giggled. “I was wondering when she would.”

“After six long years, I was praying she would, but not on a Friday night,” Cheryl chuckled. “So how’s that upstanding father of yours?”

“Ehh…let’s just say tonight hasn’t been so great.”

Cheryl frowned. “Still on the sauce, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Chris sighed.

“You poor thing,” she said, hooking her arm around his. “Well worry no more, because we’re going to take real good care of you and your friends tonight. How’s milkshakes on the house sound?”

“Uh, awesome! You still have the mocha mint?”

“Not officially, but just for you, I can certainly improvise.”

“You’re the best, Cheryl!” the boy smiled. “Willie’s wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“So my loyal customers keep telling me,” she nodded. “But this place wouldn’t be the same without them, either. How many of you in the party, by the way?” she asked, grabbing a stack of menus off the counter.

“Oh, just four.”

“You guys paying all together?”

“I got everyone covered,” Daniel replied.

“Sounds good! If you folks want to follow me, I’ll get you situated.”

“Dude, seriously?” Chris whispered as they followed the kind woman down the aisle to a booth in the midsection on the left side closest to the road. “You don’t have to splurge on us, we got enough money.”

“It’s cool,” Daniel assured him. “I have plenty. Plus I just want everyone to have a good time. And it’s our date, right?”

“Yeah I guess,” Chris breathed as they slid into the booth together across from Natalie and Mariska. “Just sorta hard to enjoy it after that shit with my dad. And knowing I have to go back to him after…I don’t know man,” he shrugged, hanging his head. “Kinda ruins it for me. Sorry, Daniel. I don’t mean to be a downer-”

“Dude, I’ve got you!” his boyfriend chuckled, cutting him off. “You’re spending the weekend with me silly, I already asked my grandma. She said yes.”

“Seriously?!” Chris’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah!”

“Oh my god I love you, thank you, thank you!” the boy exclaimed, hugging him tightly. And yet through his excitement, Daniel also felt a sense of desperation in his friend’s grasp. If Natalie and Mariska weren’t sitting across from them, he would be breaking down into tears of happiness about now. “Thank you…” Chris whispered, a slight shudder rippling through him. Daniel held him all the closer for it.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay,” he replied, rocking him back and forth as he planted kisses on his forehead. “It’s gonna be all right. ‘Cause you’re going to come home with me, sleep in my warm bed with soft sheets, we’ll light those candles you like and fall asleep cuddling. And in the morning, Grandma will make us a nice big breakfast with eggs and pancakes, and we’ll play with Stephen’s trains, or my PlayBox 5, or whatever-”

“Stop,” Chris whimpered. “You’re gonna make me cry!” he sniffled with a smile.

“I love you, Captain Spirit.”

“Love you more, Super Wolf.”

The boy pressed his lips to Daniel’s, igniting the same rush of excitement between them as they’d felt on the first day they kissed. The whole world around them grew quiet. A warmth surged blissfully through Daniel’s veins and into his heart, where it pulsed strong and true. He felt it as readily as he felt his own power, only this was their power. Maybe this is how you know who’s truly right for you, he thought. As they broke their kiss and looked in one another’s eyes, entwining their slender fingers together, he felt it was true. Daniel ventured a glance around him as the din of the restaurant crowd returned to his ears. Natalie had laid her head on Mariska’s shoulder, blotting her eyes with a napkin while she sighed longingly at the two boys. They both flushed red with embarrassment.

“Uh…sorry,” Daniel giggled nervously, sinking down in the booth as Chris held his hand beneath the table.

“Yeah,” Chris said, “we’re just-”

“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” Natalie blurted out.

“I know!” Mariska sniffled, snatching the napkin from her hand. “And for real guys, this is a date, you’re allowed to do that stuff.”

“Well…okay,” Daniel grinned, sitting back up.

“Make way for milkshakes!” Cheryl called out, approaching the table with a tray full of glasses filled with what looked like chocolate and vanilla swirls topped with whipped cream and cherries.

“Um…we never said what kind we wanted?” Mariska pointed out.

“Oh trust me, Cheryl knows best,” Chris smiled.

“Okay, we’ve got one mocha mint for Captain Spirit,” she said, setting the shake in front of him. “Now be careful, that stuff has a shot of espresso, so don’t be bouncing off the walls.”

“Eh, pretty sure Daniel’s the only one who can bounce me off the walls Cher,” he winked.

“I did not need to know that, but I’m glad he makes you happy!” the woman laughed. “And for you ladies and the boyfriend, I brought a chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, so…take your picks, all right?”

“Ooh, I’ll have the strawberry!” Daniel dove in excitedly. Mariska took the chocolate while Natalie grabbed the vanilla. “Mmm, this is so good. Almost reminds me of the time when me and Sean…eh…” he trailed off. I don’t want to think about anything else that makes me sad tonight.

“You all set to order?” Cheryl asked.

“Hmm…I’ll go with a bacon cheeseburger, medium well with fries please,” Daniel answered.

“Chicken strips with honey mustard and jojos,” Chris said, handing back the menu.

“And for you ladies?”

“Disco fries,” Natalie smiled. “And a salad for this one,” she nudged Mariska. “Caesar dressing, right?”

“Italian. And croutons, please. Like, lots of croutons!”

“Loaded croutons it is,” Cheryl nodded. “Oh, any drinks?”

“I’ll have a Coke,” Daniel said.

“We’ll just have water,” Natalie replied, and Chris nodded.

“Got it,” the waitress said. “Be back soon.”

“Dude, she’s so cool,” Daniel smiled, returning to his milkshake. His boyfriend had taken out his phone, which had gone off with several Instagram notifications.

“I know, right? Cheryl’s been here since I was a kid. I swear she’s seen this whole town grow up for several generations," Chris chuckled. "Even my mom knew her since a little before I was born. Shit,” he yawned, leaning toward the wall as he typed out a message as if he didn’t want it to be seen. Daniel thought it a bit odd. Is he hiding something? He never does that around me.

“Anybody interesting on there, or you just checking out porn?” Mariska asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Chris laughed. “No, just…replying to this asshole.”

“Didn’t we agree on no phones, dude?” Natalie muttered, rolling a cherry between her teeth.

“Yeah no, it’s just some douchebag.”

“So don’t feed the trolls! What are they saying, anyway?” Daniel asked, leaning over to look. But the more he did, the more Chris leaned away. Something’s up. “Dude, if someone’s bothering you-”

“It’s nothing, okay? I can handle this.”

“Just let me take care of it! You know I will.” He tried taking a look again. Same reaction. Now he was getting pissed. What the hell…

“Cut it out, man! I told you it’s not like that. It’s just…some asshole I’m sorta friends with,” Chris breathed. “I’ll explain shit later, okay? I promise.” Daniel glared at him. “What?”

“I don’t know,” the boy said, chewing on his plastic straw. “I guess that’s fine.”

“I’m not cheating on you if that’s what you think.”

“I didn’t say that, now did I!” Daniel snapped. Chris rolled his eyes at him. Whatever.  

“Oh...shit,” Mariska breathed, looking off in the distance to the other side of the diner. “Look who it is.”

“Huh, what’s up?” Natalie followed her line of sight. “Ah, fuck.”

“What's wrong?” Daniel asked.

“Santiago’s here,” Mariska rolled her eyes, returning to her milkshake. “Great!”

“She dated the douche for like, three weeks over the summer,” Nat clarified for the boys. “Typical jock asshole. Family’s kinda loaded though, not that anyone knows where it comes from. His mother’s a homemaker, the dad works in used car sales. But if you ask me, they make a little too much to be that comfortable. No way are they running a legit car business.”

“Yeah. Probably some illegal shit,” Mariska added. “Then there’s that Catalina chick who lives with them. She’s a little weird.”

Daniel felt his heart drop to his stomach. Catalina. The mere mention of her name was enough to send a torrential downpour of thoughts rushing through his mind. Why did they have to mention her? Aside from Chris now hiding his phone—which made him anxious enough—it had seemed they were all turning the night around and having a good time. Anything involving Catalina would most certainly make things worse. Not that he hadn’t thought about her several times during that half-hour in the movie theater already. Those glowing orange petals…

“Ugh, can we please not talk about her?” he begged. “Me and Chris have had enough drama. I’d rather just pretend she doesn’t exist.”

“Yeah, probably best,” his boyfriend agreed, finally setting his phone down on the table. Daniel thought of reaching for it out of curiosity, but restrained himself. “He gets really freaked out about her.”

“Makes sense, considering your guys’ fight in the cafeteria,” Natalie rolled her eyes. “I’d be mad if my girlfriend was looking at someone else’s tits too.”

“Oh my god! I wasn’t…you know what, never mind,” Daniel frowned. “I’m not even going to try to defend myself anymore, because every time I do, shit happens.”

“Hashtag relatable,” Chris quipped.

“Says the one who was just hiding his phone from me!”

“Dude, get off my ass with that shit, I told you I’d talk about it later! And honestly? I don’t need this right now, and I don’t think you do either. I know I was a dick to you over her, but we've been over that. So can we please just bury it and enjoy the rest of our date? You’re kinda stuck with me for the whole weekend anyway.”

“Yeah…you’re right,” Daniel said, taking his hand. “Sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about…things. Whether it’s Catalina, or Sean and all the shit I went through. That’s coming up in a week, ya know? Five years without my dad. Four without my brother. It sucks.” Chris rubbed his back, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Damn, I’m sorry. What happened?” Mariska asked.

“Uh, darling?” Natalie forced a laugh. “I don’t think he wants to talk about it. You can Google it if you’re that curious.”

“Nah, because you’ll just find a bunch of lies and bullshit,” the boy sighed. “But you’re right. I don’t really want to talk about it.” Just then, Daniel became aware of a sudden movement in his peripheral vision and glanced over to his left. Someone was marching over to their table. Someone he’d hoped he wouldn’t see.  “Uh…shit, Chris,” he gasped, scooting over to nearly squish his boyfriend against the wall. “Shit, shit, shit, no!” The lone figure quickly closed in on their booth, cross necklace bouncing on her chest, raven black hair flowing around her, a flaming orange Firewalk logo emblazoned on the sheer black top that hung off her curvaceous frame. And this time, she wore a gray plaid shirt over it. Catalina…

“What are you losers doing here?” she asked with a smile, sliding right into the booth aside Daniel. Natalie’s jaw dropped open. The cherry she’d been chewing on fell out of her mouth and plopped onto the table.

“Uh…” Daniel uttered nervously.

“What the hell!” Mariska snapped.

“Oh hey, it’s you! Holy shit,” Cat chuckled. “Been awhile. You dated my cousin, right?”

“I’m sorry, who invited you here?” Chris scowled.

“No one, just thought I’d say hi,” the girl said. “Chill out, you guys don’t need to be all freaked out over me.”

“Well I am!” Daniel replied, irritated. “So…could you just leave? Please?”

“Oh, now you want me to leave again,” she smirked, folding her hands on the table and bouncing a leg. “You know, I kind of thought about what you said earlier. About those things you saw, and what you asked me? Día de los Muertos is coming up, so. I might have something to show you.”

“Piss off, he’s not interested!” Chris defended, taking his boyfriend’s hand.

“Both of you, actually.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Daniel asked.

“Answers to your questions,” Catalina replied. “Look…I know we all sorta got off on the wrong foot here, and shit’s all confusing, and I’m a little scatterbrained right now to be perfectly honest.” She toyed aimlessly with a straw wrapper as she spoke. “But I really want to make it up to you guys if you give me the chance. And considering I don’t exactly have friends around here…I could really use some people I can trust right now.”

Daniel reflected back for a moment on his own experience when he’d first come to Beaver Creek following the incident at the border. He hadn’t known or spoken to anyone for quite a few months, and truth be told, he didn’t want to. Those early days of adjustment, he remembered—particularly at a new school—were pretty harrowing. And though Catalina had lived in Beaver Creek all this time, it was still her first year of public school. That would be jarring for anyone. Aside from that, it was probably best that they all started talking to one another to clear up any misunderstandings. Now if what he suspected was indeed true, that she did have some kind of superpower…there was a good chance she felt more alone than most. I can relate. Plus there’s still that mystery to figure out. She’s the only one who could tell me exactly what those visions mean. It’s scary, but…if it means saving her…

“I guess it’s fine,” Daniel decided.

“Cool beans.” She grabbed his milkshake and slid it over, sucking down a few sips. “Wow, this isn't too bad. Never tried the shakes here.”

“No offense but you’re pretty rude, you know that, right?” Natalie frowned.

“I’m sure I get a little of it from my cousin,” Catalina said, stirring the shake with the straw. “But I prefer the term ‘free-spirited’ myself. Ooh, crayons!” she exclaimed, reaching over Daniel and Chris to snatch the tiny five-pack of Crayolas from between the sugar and jams. She flipped over the paper placemat in front of her, selecting a blue and purple crayon from the pack as she proceeded to draw. “So, question…Chris. What is your favorite thing about being with Daniel?”

“Uh,” the boy uttered thoughtfully, seeming more relaxed now. “Well, he’s always protected me and kept me safe. And I know he always will,” he smiled, squeezing the boy’s hand. “If I didn’t have him, I really don’t know what I’d do, honestly. I’d just be lost. He saved my life.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, continuing to draw. “And how about you, Daniel? What’s your favorite thing about being with Chris?”

“He’s awesome,” he grinned. “I know I can always trust him, and count on him to be there when I need someone to talk to. Plus…I don’t know. I kind of like being there for him too. We just relate a lot in different ways.”

“I see. Mmm. It’s taking shape, but. Something is missing…ah, here we go!” she continued. Daniel and Chris each glanced at her drawing and back to each other again with puzzled looks, trying in vain to figure out what it was. She hadn’t added enough detail yet. “Sketching begins with the art of observation,” she mused. “What you see and hear, you interpret. But it always comes around to observation. It’s the key to a good art piece. Once you have that, you can draw anything. Absolutely anything your adorable little heart desires.”

“Are you drawing me and Natalie?” Mariska asked.

“Nah. You guys are boring.”

“Figures,” Natalie rolled her eyes.

“Relax, I’m kidding!” Cat giggled. She looked up at Daniel for a moment, who met her gaze, but immediately turned back to Chris. “Embarrassment,” she quipped. “Shame, heartbreak, love…more heartbreak. What is in my crystal ball, Madame Zeroni?”

“Told you she’s weird,” Mariska breathed. “Is our food coming soon? I’m starving.”

“Then maybe you should stop,” Catalina said, dropping the crayon and reaching for another.

“What?” the girl gasped.

“Just…stop,” Cat shrugged. “Stop trying to be the perfect daughter, stop stacking plates to hide food, stop trying new things to get your daddy to love you. Trust me, I’ve been there. Everything feels so much better when you just…stop trying to please everyone. Because until you do? That little mountain’s going to overwhelm you a lot more than it does anyone who tries to climb it.”

“Um…Natalie?” Mariska breathed. “I think I need to go get some air.”

“You okay?” her friend asked.

“I'm just kind of freaking out...”

“All right. Guys, we’ll be right back, okay?” Nat said, grabbing her jacket and scooting out of the booth to make way for Mariska. The two scampered off together toward the exit.

“Will you? Really?” Catalina called. “Nah,” she sighed, moving to take up their previous spot in the opposite booth as she returned to her drawing. “They won’t. Strange, huh?”

“Okay, what did you just do?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain. Oh look, drinks are coming!” she smiled as Cheryl rounded the corner with a tray of waters and a Coke. “Hydration is really important in the desert, you know,” she continued drawing. “So you don’t pass out and die, or…end up on some ranch farm with people you can barely talk to. Or get kidnapped by a boy in a drug cartel.” The boys exchanged bewildered looks. She wasn’t making any sense, and yet… “Did you know blood is made up of fifty-five percent plasma, and ninety percent of that plasma is water?” she said, taking out a red crayon and looking at Daniel. “Useful tip if you ever…get shot and lose some blood. Hmmm.” Daniel’s face turned white as a sheet as he found himself rubbing the scar tissue on his right shoulder from that fateful day he’d been attacked by vigilantes.  

“Okay, I’ve got one Coke and three waters,” the waitress said. “Oh, did the girls I saw before suddenly shapeshift themselves into this beautiful young lady?”

“One motel, three dead…Three Seals opened…” the girl rambled. “Sorry Cheryl, they kinda left,” Catalina smiled. “And I don’t need a menu, I’ll be leaving shortly anyways.”

“Uh, I see…well, I just put in your orders, so apologies it’ll be a bit late. Crowd’s driving me extra crazy tonight. Shall I cancel what the girls got, then?”

“Um…y-yeah, sorry,” Daniel let out a nervous laugh. “I…doubt they’re coming back.”

“Understood. I’ll get the cooks to rush out your chicken strips and burger.”

“Thanks Cheryl,” Chris nodded as she left them for the kitchen again.

“These colors don’t run,” Catalina thought out loud, “but wolves do. And wolves are pack animals, they can’t survive on their own. So how…did…you…do it?” She grabbed a piece of ice from the water glass and began smearing it over the paper. “They’re coming, aren’t they?” What’s she doing? Daniel wondered. That’s going to wreck it. And what she’s saying is really starting to freak me out… “Fuck, I messed up. ‘Run boy run, they’re trying to catch you, run boy run, running is a victory, run boy run, beauty lays behind the wall,’” she sang absently. “Shit, look at the time!” she giggled, dropping the purple crayon as she gazed across the dining room. Daniel glanced over to see that Santiago and his friends were getting up to leave. “Guess that’s my cue, guys,” she half-smiled, rising from the booth and pointing at them in a finger gun gesture. “Good talk…right? See you at school.”

Daniel was too awestruck to speak. So was Chris. They each waited a few seconds for her to walk away, then looked back at each other with hesitation and pounding hearts. Are we both thinking the same thing? Yup. The pair quickly scrambled up from their seats to move to the other side of the booth opposite, where they began to pore over Catalina’s abandoned drawing with eager eyes. Once they’d had a few moments to let it sink in, their mouths dropped open.

“Holy shit, Chris!” Daniel gasped as they looked on in shock, holding each other close. “That’s my dad!”

“And that’s my m…mom!” Chris choked.

“Wait a second…oh my god, I recognize that drawing. Dude, Sean drew that!”

“I drew this one of my mom, too…last year, before we even met this girl!”

“I told you she has powers, didn’t I? Chris…who the hell is she?!”

“I don’t know, man. But I’m suddenly not so hungry.”

“Same. And my head hurts,” Daniel sighed, slumping over the table to catch his breath as Chris leaned back against the seat. “Ugh, this is going to fuck with my head all night.”

“Can we please just go home? I could use that warm bed and soft sheets about now.”

“Me too. And a cold shower,” the boy breathed, still trembling as he took out his phone to make the call. “Hey Grandma? Yeah, we’re ready to get picked up now. I know it’s still early, but…no, nothing else happened. No. Yeah, I know. No, the girls left early. We’re just tired, okay? That’s all it is, I swear…”  

By the time Claire arrived, neither of the boys were in a speaking mood for the entire ride home. Huddled in the back seat of the silver Lexus, they continued gazing in stark, wide-eyed wonder at Catalina’s drawing. Daniel thought back on everything she had said at the table that night. To any normal discerning person, she sounded completely insane. But to him and Chris, she sounded almost like a psychic. Maybe even a prophet. She knew I got shot. She knew about the Three Seals Motel. She knew me and Sean like wolves. She knew Chris calls himself Captain Spirit. The other things, he couldn’t be too sure of what she meant. One motel, three dead? Kidnapped by a drug cartel? Did she mean…Sean? A shiver went down his spine at the thought, and that shiver only grew colder when he recalled her last point. A ranch house in the desert. Why did something about that feel so familiar? Nothing of the sort had ever happened to him.

But maybe it happened to El Lobo…

Chapter Text

Chris awoke the next morning to an empty bed. He’d almost forgotten where he was until he opened his eyes to the sight of ugly, baby blue-striped wallpaper. Daniel’s room. Claire never seemed to want to part with the awful look. At least the Power Bear and wolf posters they’d put up gave him something less boring to look at. The young teen stretched out, breathing a long sigh of relief. For once, he wouldn’t have to scramble to make his own breakfast or nurse yet another of his father’s hangovers. Charles would be calling later to find out where his precious son was, no doubt. But for now, Chris relished the silence. And the comfort of soft sheets against his bare skin. And the calming drone of the bathroom fan beyond the wall as Daniel took a shower. And the scents of maple and bacon wafting in through the-

“Shit!” he panicked. He was supposed to be staying in the guest room, but of course he’d snuck over in the middle of the night when Daniel signaled it was clear. Hopefully Claire hadn’t see him when she woke up. She would’ve said something…right? Wiping the drool from his mouth, the boy quickly rolled out of bed to put his Hawt Dawg Man tank back on and checked his phone. Natalie had texted a few times to let him know she and Mariska were okay. Well, at least it seemed Natalie was. Kind of. He quickly texted a response.

“Man, what the hell,” the boy whispered. Why Mariska felt the need to play out some middle school-level drama against him and Daniel, he wasn’t sure. Not that it was too surprising of a reaction, given that they’d all been freaked out by Catalina in the diner. The only reason they had allowed her to stay in the first place was because Daniel had some strange visions, and she was the only one who could explain them. He wished he could tell that to Mariska or even Natalie, but it was a good bet neither of them were ready for the truth. Man, this stuff is too much. Now I know two people with superpowers, and if that’s not stressful enough, I have Sean riding my ass. Chris sighed and scrolled through their Instagram chats from the previous night. His phone suddenly vibrated as he did. Speak of the devil.

Yeah, 'cause I'm so comfortable with this shit already. Asshole. Chris quietly snuck out the door, keeping an eye out for Claire or Stephen as he crouched low and tiptoed back to the guest room at the end of the hall. The fan was still running in the bathroom with the door closed on the opposite side, so Daniel wouldn’t see him either. Good. By the time he scampered back to where he was supposed to be and shut the door behind him, his phone was already ringing with an unknown number, country code +52. Mexico. Chris took a moment to compose himself before answering. Can’t wait for this. He tapped the green button.

“Hi Sean,” he breathed.

“Christopher Eriksen,” an older male voice spoke. It wasn’t Sean.

“Um…sorry, who the hell is this?”

“Never mind who I am. I have been watching you for some time. I know where you live. I know where you go to school, I know who your father is, and I know you are close with Daniel Diaz and the Reynolds family.”

Chris’s heart thudded in his chest as he listened. A million terrible scenarios flooded his mind of what was going to happen next if he said the wrong thing. He tried to breathe, tried to stay calm, but it was little use. He began to pace back and forth in that tiny room, rolling those words over in his head. Who the hell was this guy? Was it some sort of threat? Whatever you do, don’t hang up dude. But…what if Sean calls? What would I say to him then? At least one thing was for certain. The older Diaz boy had probably fucked something up. Then an even worse possibility crossed his mind: What if they got to him already? What if he’s hurt, or…dead? No Chris, don’t even think that!

“W-what the fuck do you want?” the boy stammered, sitting on the edge of the bed as he shook.

“My demands are quite simple,” the man said. “I know Sean Diaz has been in contact with you, and I have no doubts what he plans to do. If you should inform him on anything he asks regarding the girl named Catalina Fuentes, you are not to speak of her to him. You are also not to associate with her. If you disobey me, well…it would be an awful shame if anything should happen to your father, the Reynolds family, or Daniel. Or his sweet, adorable little puppy, eh?”

“I-I understand…” Chris shuddered at the memory of being tied up and blindfolded in the closet with his father before. A realization suddenly dawned on him. He’s not fucking around. They already sent someone to kill us. No way am I going through that again. Oddly enough, it only raised more questions about what Sean had done to put them all in danger. All this shit is because of him. He’s the one who almost got me hit by the car, who kept Daniel from me and almost destroyed his life. I HATE him.

“Good,” the man replied.

“But you do realize we’ve got friends in the FBI, right?” Chris said angrily, rising from the bed with renewed confidence. What am I even thinking? I’ve got a real-life superhero on my side. Get fucked. “We already took out one asshole you sent to kill us, and we'll do it again! You have no idea who you’re fucking with!” The ominous voice on the other end simply laughed. Like a supervillain. Like Mantroid.   

“We will see about that, won’t we?”

The line went dead. Chris felt like throwing his phone. Or any other nearby objects he could get his hands on to ransack the room. He felt like screaming, like tearing his skin off. Even like running home to his father, just to keep an eye on him. But there was no way he could do any of that now. Because he couldn’t tell Daniel anything. He couldn’t tell him about Sean, and he sure as hell couldn’t speak ill of him in his presence. After the previous night, Daniel wouldn’t be staying away from Catalina, either. No matter what Chris could say to warn him, he knew he wouldn’t listen anyway.

“Fuck!” Chris yelled, plopping down on the bed and screaming into the pillow. His phone rang again, with the same country code. “Oh hell no!” he seethed through clenched teeth. He waited four rings before finally answering. “Hello, Sean,” he said, trying to calm down.

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past ten minutes! What’s going on?” Chris hesitated. Tears of unquenched rage were blurring his vision as he breathed into the receiver. “Chris? You still there?”  

“Just what the fuck have you done?!”

“What? What are you talking about, dude…”

“Oh, like you don’t know?!” he huffed angrily. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen good. I don’t know what the hell you’ve been up to in Mexico, and I don’t want to know. Okay? Whatever it is, whatever you’re doing, you just keep me and Daniel out of your shit!”

Sean sighed, filling his ear with a crackling distortion.

“They got to you last year…I know…I know…” he whimpered. “I’m s-sorry, Chris…god, I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah,” the boy spat angrily. “It’s a sorry fucking world, isn’t it?”

“C-Chris…” Sean cried, voice shaking as he broke down in tears. “Can I p-please talk to Daniel? Just once…just once, and I swear I’ll never bother you again. I’m begging you! I’m begging you, please…” the young man’s voice cracked.

“No,” Chris whispered without pause. "We can take care of ourselves." That hurt to say. A lot. Much as it felt wrong, it needed to be said. He held his jaw tight. So tight, it ached. If he bit down any harder, he was sure his teeth would crack under pressure and he’d choke on the sharp remains. But he had to be strong. He had to do what he’d always feared he would have to. Keep the Wolf Brothers apart, for their own good, for their own safety. And because of that, he cried too. He cried too.

“I…I underst-stand,” Sean stammered, hyperventilating. “I do…I get it…god, I always fuck everything up!”

“Yeah…you do,” Chris shuddered, as the warmth of tears coating his cheeks. “Look, I know how much he loves you. It’s not like I want to-”

“I know. But don’t. Don’t you dare be sorry, Chris,” Sean said firmly, regaining his composure. “Not when it comes to protecting him. Even if it’s from me…you do what you have to do.” The boy nodded, wiping his tears away.

“You just watch your ass down there, okay Sean? For his sake.”

“Oh, I will now. Trust me. You too. This was my mistake…fuck! And again, not a word about all this to Daniel. Please. He needs to be happy. He deserves that. He needs it…so you just do whatever you have to to keep him happy, all right Chris? You look after my brother. No matter what. I’m counting on you, until this shit is over.”

“I will. I swear…”

“And if you ever watch the news and find out I’m dead, just-”

“Shut up, don’t even say that!” Chris cut him off. “Look, I might hate your guts for what you’ve done, but it doesn’t mean I want you dead. I still respect you because Daniel does. So for his sake and mine, stop being so emo and just get your shit together! Okay?”

“I will…I should go now. And thank you, Chris. It was good to hear your voice again. You might not know it, but. You really saved my ass today.”

“Goodbye Sean,” the boy breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as he ended the call. He curled into a fetal position on the bed and wept. For the first time in his life, he began to pray to whoever or whatever might be out there. For hope, for strength. For safety and clarity. Anything to regain some sense of how to act or what to do next. Because much as he feared something bad happening to the people he loved, it was nothing compared to knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold all these secrets for long. A knock came on the door.

“Chris?” Daniel called. “Can I come in?”

“Hold on!” the boy sniffled, prying himself out of bed. He wiped away the remainder of his tears as best he could and blew his nose, tossing the tissue in the waste basket before turning the knob.

“Hey,” the handsome teen entered with a smile. He was clad in only a burgundy towel, long hair still wet from the shower. It would have been hot, if only he hadn’t caught Chris at such a shitty time. “Thought you’d still be in my room. Everything okay?”

“Not really…” The tears were coming back, and he hated it. He sniffled again, searching his mind for an explanation. The most obvious always worked. “My dad just called,” he lied, lower lip trembling as he hung his head low. At least I’ll sound convincing. “He’s uh…not too happy with me for last night.”

“Oh shit Chris,” Daniel sighed, moving to close the door behind them. He turned back and took the boy’s hands in his. “I’m sorry. You want to talk about it?”

“Nah,” the boy shook his head. “Feel like it’ll just fuck with my mood even more.”

“I understand. You still good to stay?”

“Duh!” Chris replied with a forced a smile. “He’ll…get over it eventually.”

“Okay,” Daniel smiled back. Chris hated when he did the puppydog thing. Those dark brown eyes made him weak every time. “I really love spending time with you. I don’t want you to go just yet.”

“I’m not leaving,” the boy whispered. Daniel wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in close as they kissed, groping his rear. Chris’s hands wandered up and down his boyfriend’s smooth frame, curling over his toned back and down to his hips, where he caressed the crevices forming that holy V-shape with his thumbs. Once he felt the soft fabric of the towel, he dug a finger inside and pulled gently, causing it to loosen and fall to the floor. Daniel groaned like the wolf he was and leaned in to start sucking on Chris’s neck.

“Boys! Breakfast is ready!” Claire’s muffled voice called from downstairs.

“Fuck!” Chris giggled, backing away. “Figures.”

“Don’t worry,” Daniel grinned, wrapping the towel back around his waist with some strategic adjustments. “She has a Bible study later, so we’ll have plenty of time. Anyways,” he said, running a finger over the boy’s cheek with concern. “You gonna be all right?”

No, Chris thought. Because no matter what they did or how much Daniel tried to make him feel better, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about those haunting phone calls. Or the terrible secrets he was forced to keep for the sake of his boyfriend’s happiness. Thanks a lot, Sean. Now I’m the one who has to hide the power.

“Yeah,” he whispered, forcing another smile as Daniel went back to his own room to get dressed for breakfast. God, I hate this.

*          *          *

The weather had picked up that Saturday with a range of warmer temperatures, only for it to drop again with the autumn cold front that swept in late Sunday afternoon. Daniel and Chris had spent much of the previous day indoors gaming with Lucas and Natalie over the PlayBox. When things got boring, they cuddled, played with Lucky, read comics, or messed around in bed. For whatever reason, Chris didn’t seem as into the latter as he usually was. They would start and stop multiple times. Passions would flare, and then he’d suddenly get this faraway look in his eyes. Was he okay? Daniel couldn’t tell, but he felt bad continuing anything when the only responses he seemed to get were ‘I don’t know’ or ‘you can keep going if you want’. As the boy lay there, rigid and limp-dicked. You’re not okay, Chris. It’s so obvious. To that end, Daniel decided it was time for a talk.

They’d awoken shortly after it was time for Claire and Stephen to get back from church. His phone had dinged with a few notifications at noon. ‘Hey sweetie, just letting you know that Stephen and I are out for brunch with a few of our friends. We’ll be back around 3pm. There’s some bread and tuna salad in the fridge in case you and Chris are hungry. Don’t forget to start your laundry for school this week and rake the back yard before it rains. Love you.’ Daniel listened a moment in the gray dark of his room. He had opened the windows the previous night to let in some fresh air, but it was getting chilly. And the sound of raindrops pattering softly on the outer windowsill caught his ears. So much for raking, he sighed, dipping back beneath his comforter to snuggle with Chris.

“Wake up, Captain Spirit,” he whispered in the boy’s ear, caressing his soft face.

“Mmm…I’m still sleepy,” Chris muttered.

“I know,” Daniel replied as he kissed his forehead. “But we should really talk. Plus I want to go outside today.”

“Why’d you wait until it was cold out?” the boy chuckled, opening his eyes.

“‘Cause you wanted to be on PlayBox like, all day. And then when we were doing stuff…I don’t know,” Daniel sighed, stroking his hair. “I feel bad. I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong, ‘cause you usually do. And I know something’s up. I don’t want to end up hurting you, or-”

“You’re not,” Chris said, taking Daniel’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “You’re not babe, I promise. Don’t worry. I’m still kinda shaken up about the stuff with my dad, and then Catalina, and…yeah.”

“Well…okay.”

“I’m sorry,” the boy said, turning on the pillow to face him. “I don’t mean to freak you out. Just got some shit to work through, I guess. That’s all.”

“Maybe we can work through it together? I’m here for you, ya know,” he kissed him.

“I know,” Chris nuzzled closer. “Thanks.”  

Daniel gave the boy another short peck on the lips. He sensed there was more, of course. Possibly a lot more, but he didn’t feel like prying. At least not yet. For now, they were both a little dehydrated and in need of sustenance. The two got dressed back in their pajama pants for the time being and trudged down the stairs. Daniel took care of feeding the dog while Chris poured them each a bowl of Skweekinax cereal and set out some orange juice. Together, they sat on the floor near the back doors in relative silence, watching the rainfall outside as they ate. Both had discovered they enjoyed the solace of such quiet, dreary days. Days when Claire and Stephen were gone, when the whole house was dark, and they could watch the universe do its own thing. That’s when you know someone is good to you, Sean had told him once. Daniel set his bowl down and chugged the rest of his orange juice as he waited for Chris to finish.

“Damn, you’re done already?” the boy said, slurping down the rest of his milk.

“Yeah. Just hungry, I guess.” Daniel took to petting Lucky as she laid her head in his lap.

“You’re not gonna let shit go, are you?” Chris sighed.

“Well, I was thinking we could take a…stroll around the block,” Daniel said, choosing his words carefully to avoid exciting the dog. “If that’s cool with you? Lucky probably needs it anyways.”

“But it’s so cold!” his boyfriend groaned, dropping his spoon in the bowl with a clink.

“Come on, Chris…please? I’ll even let you wear my wolf hoodie and borrow it for the week if you want.”

“Seriously?” he said excitedly. “But that thing is like, a part of you, dude! I hardly ever see you without it.”

“You’re a part of me too, Chris,” Daniel assured him, squeezing his hand. “Plus you look like you need it more than I do right now. It’s always kept me safe and made me feel strong, so. Maybe it’ll do the same for you,” he said eagerly, moving to grab it off the couch where he’d draped it the previous night. “Here, try it on!” he threw it to Chris. His boyfriend happily pulled it over himself, admiring the xSquad logo on the front and the snarling wolf on the back as he inhaled whatever scents were left on it. Probably grass stains, rain, deodorant, maybe some mud, and cigarette smoke from our times in the tree house. Nothing like Sean’s, Daniel thought. He almost wished it had been a little more lived in, but he certainly didn’t have much desire for the open road again. Maybe someday. If I ever see my brother again…

“It’s awesome, I love it! And it smells just like you,” Chris smiled. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. Looks cuter on you too,” the boy said, leaning forward to kiss him. “Well hey, let’s clean up and start laundry so Claire doesn’t freak. Then we can head out.”

“Okay.”

*          *          *

It was already 1:30pm by the time they left the house with Lucky tugging on the leash ahead of them. Chris felt his heart pound faster as they paced up the sidewalk and onto Evergreen Street, making a left turn. Whatever Daniel was so insistent on discussing, he didn’t know. He felt he’d done everything right, after all. I told him it was my dad, so why won’t he let up? Some things, I have to take care of by myself. Not everyone feels like talking when they’re going through shit. Not that he could even if he wanted to. And the truth was that he did. He’d always been the one to approach Daniel whenever things bothered him. What’s the worst that can happen if I tell him the truth? We’ve been through this stuff before with bad guys and the FBI, he thought. But now, things were different. Now, Catalina hung in the balance. And Daniel still felt like he needed to talk to her. God, I miss when it was just Captain Spirit and Super Wolf and no one else.

He'd begun to have his own doubts as to whether or not his boyfriend liked her in some way, too. Maybe it was the way he’d stolen a few extra glances that night at the diner, or maybe his eyes lingered a second too long when she walked away. Hell, maybe he was starting to feel she would understand him better than Chris ever could. She was Mexican. She had superpowers. Those two things alone were something Captain Spirit could never measure up to. And she was prettier. Ugh, stop it, Chris. You don’t know anything yet. Another thought occurred to him, too. He said he wants to talk. That’s never a good thing when you’re in a relationship, and they just drag you off somewhere…what if…

“Daniel, can we stop just a sec?” the boy asked, scraping gravel as he ground to a halt and leaned over with his palms on his knees. They had reached the first intersection, but he already felt winded. Breathless. Anxious.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Daniel turned around.  

“I just…” he panted. “You’re not taking me out to break up with me, right?”

“No!” the young teen laughed, putting an arm around him. “Why would you think that, silly? I let you borrow my hoodie, right?”

“Oh yeah…I guess,” Chris chuckled.

“Maybe I just want to go on a walk because I care about you, Chris! And I kinda need to talk, too. Plus come on, when was the last time we did something like this?” The boy thought for a moment, counting back the months on his fingers. Last summer. It had been at least that long since they’d gone on a romantic walk together. Or had a more serious talk, for that matter. The previous fall, Chris had been at his grandparents over Thanksgiving and Christmas. He had missed the red and golden leaves of Beaver Creek, the crisp mountain air sweeping through the valleys. He’d been sick on Halloween too, so the holidays were a tad boring.

“I guess it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” he thought aloud, kneeling down to pet Lucky. He would never admit it, but he often found himself making wishes on that dog just because of her name. He hoped today’s would come true. I just don’t want anything bad to happen. Keep us safe. That was usually his wish.

“Yeah,” Daniel smiled, taking his hand. “It has. Now come on, I need some nature!”

They made a right up the hill and kept walking, heading for the small forest trail that wrapped around behind the houses of Evergreen and ended on the far end of the street. I used to call it the Troll Forest shortcut, Chris remembered. It was a nice, peaceful autumn walk if one ever needed to get out of the house for a bit. Or evade the police. There was even a cave nearby they could’ve camped out in. He wished he’d have told the Wolf Brothers about it before they left so they would be safe, but like idiots, they had trekked across his yard and run back into the street. And like an even bigger idiot, Chris had chased after them, throwing his hand up at the pursuing patrol car as if he were the one with superpowers. And then looking back, defeated, seeing that apologetic look on Daniel’s face. The one he would never forget.

“Man, I should’ve said something about this trail back then,” he mused as they plodded quietly along the leaf and pine-needle covered path. Woodpeckers, robins, cardinals, and other birds abounded throughout the woods. Now and then, a squirrel would scamper up the trees, leaping from branch to branch. “You guys would’ve been okay for a while.” Daniel shivered and kept a hold of his hand.

“Ehh, it’s fine,” the teen said. “They probably would’ve caught up to us sooner or later anyways. Even up here. One of us could’ve been shot, or…I don’t know. We heard a helicopter when we left. Still scares me to think about. I’m just really glad I could come back and live a normal life, ya know? Or as close to normal as I could.”

“I’m glad you came back too,” Chris said, leaning his head on his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without my Super Wolf.” They paused a moment to sit on a fallen tree trunk on the right side of the path. From up here, they could see the backs of the houses below on Evergreen breaking through the woods as a light drizzle continued to fall. “So…what was it like after you left? I mean, with the whole train-hopping thing. You never really told me about it.”

“Exciting, in a way,” Daniel chuckled. “And scary. I was just worried about you, more than anything.”

“Aww,” Chris kissed his cheek.

“And you never really knew where you’d end up, or when the trains would stop. They’d just go on forever, for miles. Until the next stop, when the wind died down and we woke up in the dark to sneak onto the next one. Some people like that about it, though. Like Finn and Cassidy, Penny, Hannah…the rest of the Humboldt crew. They live their whole lives like that. It was pretty crazy, but I kinda miss them sometimes. Even Jacob. He was a sweet guy, and his sister was fun to play with. But aside from that? I just miss my dad. And Sean. Before any of that stuff ever happened, when we were a family. Almost feels like it was someone else’s life now.”

“Damn,” his boyfriend breathed thoughtfully. “You think if you could ever go back…would you want to?”

“Nah,” Daniel replied. “Not anymore.”

“How come?”

“For one, I would miss you too much,” he said, leaning against him. “Don’t get me wrong, I hated being on the road all that time. Well…most of it. But then I would’ve never met you. Or my mom and her friends. Still haven’t heard from her either by the way. She’s stuck in jail in Nevada. One more year to go,” he sighed, tossing a pebble into the trail. “Then we get to talk about Project Havenwolf. Not sure if I even want to after finding out all that shit.”

“You should,” Chris replied. “I mean…she’s still your mom, and she helped you guys out a lot, right? Maybe there’s more to it,” he shrugged. “I’d want to know.”

“Guess I’ll have to think about it. What about you? If you could reverse time, bring back your mom, go back to before your dad was…you know…would you want to?”

Chris hesitated. He’d thought about that question long and hard almost every day since her death. Up until now, the answer to that had been a resounding yes. But he thought, too, about the obvious. About that cute brown-haired, brown-eyed, golden-toned boy sitting next to him. Those soft hands, that dashing smile, those full lips. And the way he made his heart skip a beat. Made him feel safe, protected. Worthy. Loved. Oh how much he would hate to lose that. To Catalina, to Sean, to any circumstances outside his control.

“Honestly, if it meant losing you? No,” he breathed. “But…I guess that’s what’s been getting to me after the shit with my dad. It’s like he's never cared how I feel. I just wish I could see her one last time, ya know?” he sniffled tearfully. “Give her the biggest hug, and hear her voice again. Telling me she loves me, and I’d say it back. That’s all I’d want. Just the chance to…say goodbye.”

“Me too, Chris,” Daniel cried, holding him close. “Me too.”

As they held each other tight in the cold woods, shivering in the rain with Lucky who had hopped up beside them, Chris thought back to that night at the diner and what Catalina had drawn. Perhaps in her own cryptic, psychic way…was this the moment she was trying to tell them about all along? That they had to talk about these things before she could help them? Neither still had any idea exactly what her powers were.

They had chewed it over on Friday night of course, coming up with all sorts of outlandish theories as they laid in bed unable to sleep. Time traveler? Some sort of medium? But one thing was certain. Dia de los Muertos was coming up soon. The Mexican holiday that, Coco had taught them, meant remembrance. The one day of the year when the dead can cross over. Catalina had mentioned it, too. And much as Chris knew it was a mistake to associate with her—especially now—he couldn’t deny his curiosity. What if we could see them again? Maybe the risk is worth it.

“So about next week,” Daniel finally said, breaking their long embrace. “Claire and Stephen kinda have this little memorial we do to remember my dad every October. I was thinking…would you want to come? And you could share some stories or memories about your mom? Or her art, or…stuff that means something to you. Not sure if you’ve ever done that.”

“We haven’t,” Chris admitted. “Dad…does all his grieving in private, mostly. ‘Grieving’ meaning drinking,” he rolled his eyes. “But yeah. I think I’d really like that,” he smiled, wiping a tear from his eye. Not that there was much point. It was starting to rain harder, and both of their heads were already wet.

“Good, I’m glad,” Daniel smiled back.

“You really are the best boyfriend ever, you know that?”

“You too,” he said, taking his hand. “Love you.”

“Love you more, wolf boy.”

“Okay, we better get back home before we get hella soaked!” Daniel laughed, brushing a few wet strands of hair from his face as he hopped off the trunk.

“Yeah!” Chris pulled up the hood of the wolf sweatshirt and joined him in a jog back on the path, where deep, earthen smells mixed with pine surrounded them. “But seriously dude, ‘hella’? Never heard you say that before.”

“I don’t know, I just got it stuck in my head for some reason.”

“It’s kinda cute though- WHOA!” the boy gasped, nearly tripping over a large branch that jutted out into the walkway.

“Don’t fall!” Daniel whirled around to grab him. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Chris caught his breath and carefully stepped over, trying to block out the secrets now rushing to the forefront of his mind again. No wonder I’m not paying attention. Thanks, adrenaline. “I could’ve sworn that thing wasn’t here before. Shit, you think it’s gonna storm like crazy?” he asked. The two teens made sure to wrap an arm around each other to avoid any further surprises along the way.

“Uh, let’s not find out. Come on, we can race Lucky back!” he broke away. “And I want to get a shower in before Grandma and Grandpa get home, if you know what I mean,” Daniel giggled.

“Saving water, huh?” Chris grinned.

“Well that, and Claire wouldn’t want either of us dripping rain all over the floor waiting for each other, so… it’s totally a win-win!”

“Riiiight,” the boy laughed.

“Besides, I kind of got used to saving water back in…Away…” Daniel stopped in his tracks as lightning flashed in the distance, and a harsh wind whipped along the beaten path. Something about the atmosphere grew haunting as he turned back to face Chris with a confused expression on his face.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah no, just…I’m getting a funny feeling all of a sudden. About the storm, the branch, me saying ‘hella’, the water, these trees,” he said, glancing around. “Like something’s connected, and I don’t know what it is. Weird…”

“Stop,” Chris urged, noticing something else strange cross his line of vision. Something blue. Something bright in the midst of the cold rain, wind, and twisted woods surrounding them. A figure of contrast to the deep orange and yellow-colored leaves that littered their path. A lone butterfly had fluttered up to land on the boy’s shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t move,” Chris smiled, approaching it cautiously.

“What is…oh wow!” Daniel gasped and turned his head. As he did, the creature took flight again, beating its magnificent wings to propel itself upward. Chris stood aside and put an arm around him as they beheld the sight together in awe, watching it flutter high above them like a prayer, until it reached the canopy and disappeared as quickly as it came.

Chapter Text

Catalina stared closely at the combination lock on her locker as she turned it for the fifth time in a row, determined to get it right before the bell rang for the next class. Come on, you can do it. Just don’t think about it. As if she hadn’t been doing enough of that lately. Two weeks. That’s how long she had been off her meds, and she’d been perfectly fine on most days. Until that one night at the diner last week when she’d completely lost her shit. Fuck, that was embarrassing. After that little incident, she had decided enough was enough. Back on the pills she went. Back to the solace of no interdimensional voices. Back to the freedom of no demands from her father. Back to the numb, and the crushing lack of thought or feeling.

“Why can’t I remember?” she clenched her teeth, pressing her forehead to the cool, shiny red metal. “Ugh.” Other voices surrounded her now in the hallway. Real voices that were somehow even more overwhelming than the ones usually stuck in her head. Conversations about Halloween parties, weekend plans, and relationships gone wrong abounded. Then came the laughter. Hideous, taunting laughter from directly behind at the wall of lockers opposite hers.

“What a freak!” a girl said.

“I know, right? She just showed up at our table at Willie’s and started playing with crayons like a child and tried to tell me I’m fat. But have you seen those hips? She could stand to lose a few pounds herself!”

“Oh my god Mariska, you’re such a bitch!” her friend laughed.

“I mean, am I wrong?”

Catalina sighed. She had heard enough. And trying to remember her own locker combination was certainly making her more self-conscious than any minor altercation would. She dropped her backpack on the floor and plodded across the hall, hoping to explain herself to the wannabe teen queen. She had prayed Natalie might be around to hear the way she was talking and diffuse things. No such luck. Guess I’m on my own.

“Hey, uh…Mariska?” Cat said timidly, rubbing at her arms. The pills always made her cold somehow. “Look, I owe you an apology for the way I acted at the diner, all right? I was sorta…off my meds that night. But I’m better now, so yeah,” she shrugged. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Mariska looked her over with a serious expression for a moment, as if she might regret what she said. Or at the very least, accept her apology. Then she turned back to her friend with a sly grin. Both burst out in fits of taunting laughter again. Laughter that echoed in the back of Catalina’s mind, reminding her that she was nothing. That she was as good as invisible here. That she wasn’t welcome. That she didn’t deserve to be heard.

“Whatever, freak!” Mariska giggled, walking off with her friend as the bell rang for the next class. Coño. Cat stormed back to her locker, pounding her fist on the top portion while kicking the bottom. It didn’t make her feel better. Nothing did. And she knew nothing would, so long as she remained medicated. But it was better than freaking people out…right? She resumed turning the knob yet again, more frantically this time. After another three attempts during which her memory failed her yet again, she at last gave up and yanked her backpack from the floor to head off to her next class.

*          *          *

“Okay class, and now the moment I know you’ve all been waiting for…frog dissection work packets, yay!” Mrs. Clark, the mousy biology teacher, exclaimed with feigned excitement as she shook a stack of papers over her head. The announcement elicited a swift cacophony of groans and do-we-have-to’s from the bored and visibly exhausted class of high school students. Daniel sunk down in his seat near the front of the class. In moments like this, he wished he’d been lucky enough to have a last name near the end of the alphabet. Reynolds isn’t sounding too bad right now.

“This fucking sucks!” said Brad, one of the few kids lucky enough to be seated at the back of the room. Typical jock douchebag, Daniel thought.

“Much as we all value your passionate opinions Brad, please keep your expletives to yourself,” the teacher said, handing packets out down the rows. “And maybe count your blessings that you attend Beaver Creek Community High School and not Springwater. They do in fact dissect cats up there for their final grade. You’re welcome.” A hushed chorus of whispers and shocked expressions permeated the room.

“For real?! People do that shit?”

“Yeah, I have cats at home!" another girl protested. "What the hell’s wrong with the education system these days?”

“Well you’re fine with dissecting frogs, aren’t you?” Mrs. Clark pointed out.

“Not really! But they’re like…pond animals or something. Cats are pets! It’s different.”

“Some cultures would disagree,” the teacher answered. “But hey, we all live and we all die, right? This is in the name of science. And far easier than cats, I promise! But the test does count for eighty percent of your final grade, so I highly suggest finishing these packets by next Monday to familiarize yourself with the anatomy.”

“I’d rather be studying human female anatomy,” Brad quipped.

“And I’m sure all the fine young ladies here would rather kiss their dissection experiments than hear where you think the clitoris is located, so maybe stick with frogs first, Bradley!” The classroom erupted in laughter and chants of ‘go, Mrs. Clark’. Daniel sighed and glanced over the work packet, wishing Chris was there to keep him company. Or be the class clowns stealing the attention together, as they’d often done in middle school. Suddenly, the door of the classroom opened, and in walked Catalina. Butterflies awakened in his stomach, fluttering about. It felt like being in that forest yesterday with Chris, but…different. Why do I keep getting this feeling…  

“Sorry I’m late,” the girl breathed. “Couldn’t get into my locker, had a hell of a morning,” she said, popping her chewing gum. She looked like it. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and so were her clothes. She was wearing the same Firewalk shirt she’d had on Friday beneath a heavily wrinkled blue plaid button-down with black jeans. Cat, that’s not like you. The teacher turned around in confusion.

“And you are?”

“Catalina Gar…Fuentes,” she corrected.

“You sure you have the right class?”

“Yeah,” she smiled thinly. “I transferred. Mr. Dobbs was boring and I knew everything already, so,” she shrugged. “Here I am.”

“Right…well I’ll check for your record, hopefully you’re all caught up. In the meantime, you can have a seat up there next to uh, Daniel. And please lose the gum, I don’t want it in my class.”

“Sure,” she replied, spitting it in the waste basket. Daniel’s heart was pounding as she shuffled over and plopped down in the seat next to him, tossing her bag on the floor. She glanced over at him, but said nothing. Great, the boy thought. I’m definitely not going to be focusing on biology class now. As the teacher finished handing out packets and went up front to start writing on the whiteboard, Daniel tore a piece of scrap paper from his notebook so they could talk. Having gotten a closer look at her, he began to notice other things too. Her makeup was barely done aside from eyeliner, and she wasn’t wearing her usual hoop earrings. After some thought, he started writing.

Hey, Cat. Everything ok with you? He slid the note across the table to her. She didn’t seem to notice. “Psst!” he whispered to get her attention. She looked over at him and grabbed a pen from her backpack, then took the paper to write out her response. She didn’t have to do that. He had a pen sitting right there. After a few seconds, she slid the paper back.

Hi. Sorry for acting like such a freak on Friday. I wasn’t really myself, but I’m ok. I’ll explain more after class.

What? Why would she think that? Sure, what she’d done was ‘freaky’ by most standards. But she herself wasn’t, and Daniel didn’t see that in her. After all, plenty of odd things seemed to follow him wherever he went. Odd things like the visions in dreams. Odd things like yesterday, when they’d encountered a blue butterfly in the woods. After doing some reading in the library prior to class, he’d learned it was called a Morpho didius—a species that didn’t even have its normal habitat in Beaver Creek. They came from South America. And that feeling I got during the storm. Like something was wrong. He wrote back to her.

Don’t worry. You didn’t freak me out. But me and Chris talked yesterday about our parents. Then we saw a blue butterfly in the woods. That storm was weird. Did you feel it too? Catalina looked it over. She sighed before answering.

I said we’ll talk later. Sorry, I just really need to focus on class.

Ok… he wrote. He didn’t hand it back. Instead for the remaining half-hour of class, he kept a close eye on her through a series of glances. And in those glances, he studied her movements. Her eyes. Her body language. She looked constantly from the whiteboard to her notebook and back again. Daniel almost expected her to be drawing something unrelated, or maybe writing something cryptic. Hell, even a diary entry might fit. But she seemed to be copying down all of the material exactly.

None of it seemed like her. Something was off. Very off.

*          *          *

Daniel had rushed out of the classroom to meet with Catalina after struggling to copy down the rest of his notes as the bell rung. She had walked off without him for some reason, but it always seemed that way. Every time he tried to talk to her about all the important things plaguing his mind—that vision of her death being the most crucial—either the wasn’t alone, or she completely evaded him. It almost felt like being on the run again. Only this time, there was no wind, no sleeping on trains, no major struggle to survive. And yet somehow against all logic, that was what his heart was telling him. How do you protect someone you care about when they don’t even want to listen to you? It’s so fucking irritating. Shit. Now I know how Sean felt around me. I must have annoyed him so much. Maybe that’s why I still haven’t heard from him.

As the hallways crowded with students leaving their classes, he scanned the sea of faces, desperate to find her. He turned around, glancing in all directions, moving to and fro. Still annoyed. Still perturbed. Still feeling as if his skin were crawling, and the only thing that would stop it was the sight of her. Natalie and Mariska suddenly caught his eye as they came up on the right, nearly bumping into him while they walked arm in arm. Nat didn’t see him, but Mariska did. She simply rolled her eyes and kept going. What the hell…

“Hey!” he called out, walking fast to catch up with them. “Hey guys, have either of you seen Catalina? I need to talk to her, it’s really important!”

“Ahem, fuck off, ahem!” Mariska grumbled with a fake cough.

“Seriously? What the hell did I do? Natalie! Have you seen her?” But the girl kept her eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge him. “Talk to me!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you!” Mariska snapped.

“Why not? She’s my friend! You don’t speak for her. Nat…Nat!”

“WHAT?!” the girl finally fumed. “No we haven’t seen her, okay? Now just…go away, Daniel!”

“Fag,” Mariska giggled. That’s it, I’m done with this bitch. Daniel stopped in his tracks, glaring angrily as they walked away. He waited until they were about fifteen steps ahead. Then he gave into the rage pulsating through his veins, doing the very thing he’d vowed he would never do in school: He used his power. Daniel closed his eyes and reached out, sensing the offending girl’s movement up ahead. He focused on her face. Her stupid, ugly, laughing face. Then he let go. Mariska suddenly tripped and slammed down hard face first onto the marble floor, cracking her nose. The young teen smirked as Natalie shrieked and knelt down to aid her. That’s what you get for disrespecting me. He crossed his arms and reveled at his handiwork a moment, until he found himself pinned up against a row of lockers by two unrelenting arms. Oh shit.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?!” Chris.

“Nothing,” Daniel said, wrestling out of his grasp. “I didn’t do it! She fell on her own.”

“You really think I’m that stupid?”

“N-no…okay look, it’s just a little payback because she wouldn’t listen to me. And she called me a fag!”

“People call us fags every day, dude! It doesn’t mean you have to pull that shit. Like who the hell are you right now?”

“Chill out, she’s fine!” Daniel protested, walking back down the hall as Chris followed.

“Yeah, except for you breaking her nose.”

“Okay, so I kinda didn’t mean to do that. Maybe. But she should’ve thought twice! Besides, Natalie didn’t exactly say anything to me. She just went along with her like she always does.”

“Yeah, well they don’t want to talk to us anymore after how our date ended. And to be honest, I can’t say I blame them.”

“Gee Chris, that would’ve been helpful to know!"

“Sorry, I should’ve told you. Why are you so on edge, anyways? You’ve never used your powers at school, that’s one of your rules! And one of our relationship ones.”

“Ugh,” the boy sighed, stopping to sit on a bench near the water fountains as they reached the rotunda. “Catalina sorta transferred into my bio class today. She showed up late looking all grungy, and said she wasn’t herself on Friday. We were supposed to talk after class, but she bailed. I tried asking Natalie if they saw her, but yeah. I’m just kinda worried about her.”

“Speaking of which…Cat’s out of the bag, two o’clock.”

“Huh? Oh…” the boy glanced over to his right across the main foyer. Catalina stood against the wall near the cafeteria entrance, talking with her cousin Santiago. He looked almost as worried as Daniel was. Her usual energy and mannerisms just weren’t there, and if they were, they seemed heavily muted. She acted like she was listening, but that blank stare on her face said otherwise. Chris watched them as his boyfriend turned.

“Shit, I see what you mean,” he agreed. “But maybe…we shouldn’t get involved? I know you care and all, but-”

“Really, dude?” Daniel cut him off. “Just the other day, you couldn’t shut up about her either.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I…nothing, never mind,” Chris breathed, shaking his head. Suddenly he’s the one who seems all tense, Daniel thought. Why? “Look, if you want to talk to her, I get it. It’s fine. I just don’t want to cause any more problems with Natalie.”

“Bullshit!” his boyfriend said. “No offense, but you haven’t really been acting like yourself either, Chris. Don’t tell me this is about staying friends with Nat, because Mariska’s still going to be there anyway. At least after she gets her nose fixed,” he chuckled. To his surprise, Chris laughed too.

“Okay, I guess she did kinda deserve it,” he giggled. “Just…don’t do anything like that ever again.”

“I won’t. Promise,” Daniel assured him, putting an arm over his shoulder. “So,” he sighed, “you going to tell me what’s really up with you?”

“Nah,” the boy shook his head. “It’s not that important. A little bummed about this past weekend, I guess. But you made it better.”

“Good,” the young wolf smiled, kissing him. When he pulled away, he noticed a dark shadow had crossed in front of them. He immediately glanced over to see Catalina standing there, observing them with a slight smirk as she crossed her arms.

“You guys are too adorable.”

“Uh…fancy stalking you here,” Daniel laughed nervously.

“Hold that thought, I need a drink.” She turned for the water fountain and slurped down a few swallows before leaning back to gargle the rest and spit it out. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, taking a deep breath. “God, I am so fucking dehydrated today. Throat feels like sand. Anyways...guess we should talk. Library sound cool with you?”

“Sure,” Daniel and Chris both nodded.

“Let’s go.”

*          *          *

The trio gathered all the way in the back of the library over their lunch break in the Physics section, which few students ever used. Catalina had stopped on the way to grab a few snacks for the impromptu meeting; Skittles, a few Chock-O-Crisps, and some weird off-brand chocolate thing called Baba Bars, which Chris loved and Daniel hated. Together, they sat in a circle with their wares splayed out on the floor. Catalina brushed her hair and applied makeup while the boys ate. Daniel wasn’t sure what she was about to discuss with them, but he was happy to finally receive some answers. Chris still looked overly cautious as he drank his nasty sparkling Adios water.

“Dude, how do you even stomach that shit?” his boyfriend finally said. “Baba Bars make me sick just looking at them! And washing it down with sparkling water? Gross!”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I have tried it! You have no palate.”

“Mom was on a diet for a while and got me used to sugar-free stuff,” he shrugged. “Too much sugar is bad for you.”

“Dude no, here, eat my last Chock-O-Crisp. Please? I can’t watch you eating that!”  

“Fine,” Chris sighed, reluctantly biting into the bar.

“See, isn’t it so much better?”

“Mmm, you’re still not gonna turn me,” the boy giggled with his mouth full.

“We’ll see about that, young Skywalker!” Daniel grinned.

“Okay, I’m done,” Catalina said, putting her makeup away as she chewed her last Skittle. The two boys went about shoving the remaining trash into their bags and pockets, then sat cross-legged at eager attention. “Wow, you guys look ready for my TED Talk,” she joked. Chris smirked at the comment, but Daniel remained serious. I’m still worried about you, Cat. Something’s been going on. “You know what? Let’s just…start with an AMA. Ask me anything you want.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Daniel remarked.

“Right,” the girl sighed, flipping her silky black hair behind her back. “Okay. So I told you I needed friends, right? Ones I can trust. For what it’s worth, I think you guys are cool. A little weird, but…cool. And I know you’ve been through some shit you can’t talk about. So I trust you enough to tell you about me. And by the way, none of this leaves the Physics section. You can’t tell anyone a thing. Swear to me.” The two boys looked at each other and shrugged, nodding in agreement.

“Don’t worry, we’re cool,” Daniel said. “It’s not like we don’t have our own secrets, ya know.”

“I know. But mine run a little deeper,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “So I live with my cousins. They’re a pain, but nice. I basically immigrated for my own safety, or so I’m told. My father is a…powerful man in Mexico,” she admitted. “The bad kind. Technically I'm here legally, but under a false last name. So if anyone ever finds out who my dad is? I'm pretty much fucked. I won't bore you with the rest, but. It has to do with my abilities. Daniel…you asked what my superpower is. Fact is, I don’t know how to describe it without showing you. And to be honest? I’d rather not.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like putting people in danger,” she sighed, toying with a bracelet she'd taken off her wrist. “And I owe you both an apology for how I acted on Friday. I was off my meds for a few weeks. My power isn’t exactly an easy thing to live with. See in Mexico, I was diagnosed schizophrenic. Hearing voices, seeing shit. So I just…I can’t let people know about this, or they’ll think I’m crazy. So when I started spouting off all that random bullshit at the diner-”

“It’s not random bullshit!” Daniel cut her off. “Me and Chris know that. You drew those pictures of our parents. Our dead parents! And we know you didn’t get those from your imagination, because there's no way you could've seen them earlier. My brother drew that picture of our dad, and Chris drew his mom. You copied them exactly. Line for line! So how?” he asked. “How do you know these things?”

“They just sorta come to me,” Cat shrugged. “Anyway, does it matter? Mariska sure as hell freaked out. That’s why I did what I had to. The pills make me dehydrated and sleepy as fuck, but. At least I don’t have to walk around hearing voices all the goddamn time. Or worry that whenever my dad calls me, he’s going to ask for shit.”

“What kind of shit?” Chris asked.

“Information. It started when I was seven, maybe eight years old. Shortly after my diagnosis, he found out what I can really do and had my therapist killed. Then he put me to work. He’d bring me into his office, and I’d put my hands on the foreheads of these men he wanted to work with. And from there…I saw everything.”

“So you’re psychic,” Daniel remarked.

“I wouldn't call it that," she chuckled, "but yeah. I could see every choice they ever made in their lives and where it all led. And some they were going to make, with almost a hundred percent accuracy. Once I started seeing dead people, I freaked. I told my dad I didn’t want to do it anymore. He just kept pushing me to show them the truth. The ones who walked out? They stayed and helped him build his business. Those who couldn't ended up in comas and died. Because that’s where their story ended. They were just…gone in every dimension.”

“W-What do you mean, dimensions?” Chris asked. “You mean like-”

“Every time you make a life-altering choice, you create a new reality,” she explained. “Those are what I see. Other lives, the alternate decisions people made. And the more those choices add up? The further away you get from the person you were. It all branches out, like an endless tree. Take Daniel, for example. Here, he’s all clean, baby-faced, cute, happy.” Daniel blushed and cleared his throat. She thinks I’m cute… “But in another world? He’s dirty, homeless in Mexico, wearing sugar skull makeup year-round and calling himself ‘El Lobo’,” she chuckled.

“Shut up!” Daniel frowned. “I think he's badass.”

“Not with that name,” she snickered.

“What about me?” Chris asked. “What am I like in this…alternate world?”  

Catalina abruptly stopped laughing, and a serious expression fell over her face.

“Uh, well…I haven’t really seen you yet," she said. Chris looked worried. “Hey, chill out!” she forced a smile. “My meds are just screwing with my head lately. It doesn’t mean you’re dead or anything.”

“You know something, don’t you?” he insisted. “Something bad.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, dude. Not about that stuff. Besides…sometimes it’s best to let people make their own choices, right? Because if you know something, you might actively try to prevent it,” she said, eyeing Daniel. “And that doesn’t always work out the way you want.”

“Fine,” Chris huffed. He looked annoyed. “But you can change things if you really want to?”

“Only from here,” Catalina sighed. “You can’t go back in time or cross dimensions. Or at least I haven’t met anyone who can. And even if you could, like I said…the more you get away from things,” she emphasized, glancing at Daniel again. “The more you wouldn’t recognize yourself. That’s why it's important to make the most of the time you've already got.”

“You said you can see dead people,” Chris pointed out. “Does that mean you could-”

“Look,” Catalina cut him off, irritated. “I’m pretty sure I already told you guys too much. Now you’re all curious, and that…it’s not good for me, okay? I don’t like being asked to do things. Only reason I told you about me in the first place is because you deserve an explanation for my craziness,” she shrugged. “And because I need someone I can talk to about all this shit. That’s it. Listen, I uh…I really need to go.” She stood up, pulling her bag over her shoulder as she checked her phone. “It’s past my medicine time anyways.”

“W-Wait a sec!” Daniel urged, rising to his feet. Chris stayed on the floor. He looked upset. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and run off!”

“Actually, it’s more like a large tree trunk,” the girl said. “And I know when to stop feeding the beast. Do you? Food for thought. Later.” She patted him on the shoulder, feigning a smile as pushed past the two boys. All Daniel could do was watch her walk away in awe, endlessly mesmerized and left with far more questions than when their meeting had begun. He looked back down at Chris, who was still trying to process things too.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t answer. “Chris?”

“No…” the boy trembled. “She knows something,” he swallowed.

“Maybe. But she did say she wouldn’t lie, right?” Daniel pointed out.

“Dude, don’t you get it? She doesn’t have to! All she has to do is keep taking her stupid pills and withholding shit. Glad you had fun, because I didn’t.”

“Why are you so emo all of sudden?”

“It’s just…I kinda want to know what’s on the other side. Like if she could touch us and send us somewhere else. If we could see what she sees, then maybe I could find out if I’m there, too. Maybe I could even see my mom, and you could see your dad, or-”

“Chris,” Daniel sighed. “I don’t know, maybe we should just give it up. I mean, yeah that’d be nice, but…we have to respect what she wants. It’s her power, not ours, and I get where she's coming from. Plus, didn’t she say people are really different on the other side? What happens if we see something we don’t like, or she puts us in a coma by accident? Is that really worth it?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Chris breathed. “As usual. It just…feels like she’s doing all this stuff to fuck with us.”

Daniel knelt down and wrapped his arms around the dejected young boy. “I’m sure that's not it. And I'm sorry,” he said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I know how much this means to you. I really do. Trust me, I want to know, too. But we have to let it go for now. Maybe she’ll come around.”

Chapter Text

In the days leading up to October 28^th, Daniel and Chris had had sporadic discussions between classes regarding their prior meeting with Catalina, even as they rushed to make Halloween plans for the coming Friday. Aside from that, the week had dragged on for two reasons. The first was an overload of homework in preparation for tests that would be given over the course of November. The second was that Catalina herself had been absent for two days. By the time Thursday arrived—the date of Claire and Stephen’s memorial for Esteban—she still had not shown. Daniel was growing substantially more worried by the minute.

“You think she’s okay?” he asked Chris, speaking over the array of discordant voices surrounding them. The other students in their Algebra 1 class were getting sick of waiting for the teacher to arrive, which seemed to happen every morning. That man could calculate everything except for time and his need for java.

“Maybe she’s out sick, or she just needed a mental health break,” the boy replied. “I’ve heard meds that mess with your brain can be rough.”

“Or ICE got to her…” Daniel shuddered. He hated to think the worst of course, but ever since she’d told them of her father and his line of work, it didn’t seem like such a farfetched scenario. Up until then, it was something they had only seen on the news. And for all they knew, she could very well be priority one on a long list of deportations. Heck, maybe she was headed back to Mexico right now. Shit, I hope not. He sunk his head down on the desk and buried his face with his arms.

“Dude, come on, don’t think like that,” Chris urged. “Besides, I’m sure she would’ve told us. I mean, she can see that kind of shit coming, right?”

“Maybe that’s not how it works,” Daniel sighed. He turned his head to face him. “She has to be close to the people, from what it sounds like.”

“Nah man, because think about it. If she knows all the choices even one person makes, then it leads to someone else. She said it was like an endless tree branching out. So one person meets another person, and that person meets another, until it’s like a big web in her head. She could sniff anyone out, no problem. Like…Professor X with Cerebro or something.”

“Yeah, but near a hundred percent accuracy still isn’t one hundred,” Daniel pointed out. “If there’s even that one percent chance she’d try to see it, and she’s wrong…”

“I mean…she did take that chunk of ice out of her glass at the diner and said ‘they’re coming’, now that I recall.”

“Yeah Chris, that’s a big help, thanks!”

“Relax!” his boyfriend giggled. “For real, I’m sure we’d find out if anything happened.”

“Well I’d rather find out now than on the news!” Daniel whined. “Ugh, I’m just so worried dude, like I can’t even focus on school right now.” He’d felt a lump growing in his throat for the past several minutes, and it was about to burst. His sinuses were already plugging up. He knew what was coming next. Maybe I’m psychic too. Psychic for sadness.

“Hey,” Chris took his hand to play with it and gazed into his eyes. “I wuv you,” he said, placing a row of soft kisses along his knuckles. “Rawr.” Daniel smiled back at him, about to cry at the sweet gesture anyway. Might as well make it funny so I don’t have to.

“BLEH, I’m a zombie!” he replied in a monster voice, gnawing playfully at his boyfriend’s fingers. They both laughed and giggled like they were nine again for a moment without a care in the world. Daniel then nuzzled his head into Chris’s hand, savoring that soft touch of warmth over his left cheek, the fingertips grasping at his long hair. “Mmm,” he smiled in contentment. The hand then went under his chin, scratching it lightly. “That actually feels kinda good,” he smiled.

“You’re like a little wolf puppy, it’s so cute.”

“Ooh, I could be for Halloween!” Daniel exclaimed. “You think I’d look cute with a dog collar and one of those headbands with the little dog ears?” He stuck his tongue out and made panting noises.

“Um, yes! Just promise me you won’t take it too far,” Chris laughed.  

“What do you mean?”

“Like with mittens, toys and shit.” Daniel was still confused. “Never mind,” the boy chuckled.

“Oh…ew, I didn’t mean it like that! Perv.”

“But yeah, you’d look adorable,” Chris smiled. “Maybe I’ll draw it later.”

“Eh…maybe you should hold off on the drawing for now? I mean, what if Catalina sees it with her whole…psychic thing?”

“Good point,” Chris shuddered. “She better not see what else was in my desk.”

“I wonder what she’s gonna be for Halloween,” Daniel pondered aloud. “Probably just a cat!” he giggled.

“Okay class!” their teacher Mr. Bolin called, finally entering the room. Everyone immediately sat at attention and fell silent as he plodded to the front of the room, smelling like a mix of cigarettes and too much fabric softener. His long gray hair appeared damp and unkempt, and he hadn’t shaved, either. “Yes, I woke up late. Yes, I dropped the bottle of fabric softener in my washer, and no, I haven’t had my coffee. That said, please just do as I say, because I’ve got one hell of a headache. Now textbooks out please, page 237!” the fifty-something man said, louder than usual.

Daniel sunk back in his chair with a sigh, still daydreaming about his Halloween plans with Chris as he tried his best to rehearse what he was going to say at the memorial that evening. Claire always insisted he say something that amounted to a short essay, even if there wasn’t much left to tell after the last four years they had done it. At least Friday will be pretty lit. He hoped that Catalina could come out trick-or-treating with them, too. If she felt okay. If she hadn’t been taken in for questioning by ICE, overdosed on pills, or gotten in some fight with her family.

As he’d expected for the fourth consecutive day in a row, Daniel didn’t get many notes copied down for his classes. The rest of the day was spent catching up on the material from Chris, though his boyfriend’s comfort didn’t help him as much as it should have either. I just need to know if Cat’s okay, he thought. I won’t feel better until I do.

*          *          *

The Reynolds home was already awash in the soft glow of candlelight by the time Chris arrived at six o’clock that evening with a cardboard box full of his mother’s things. Claire promptly answered the door before Daniel could make it downstairs in time, which meant she would stand there for the next five minutes talking his boyfriend’s ear off as he struggled not to drop the box. Daniel smiled and watched them anyway, checking his watch to count the seconds. It had become something of a running game between them to see how long it took her to shut up.

“Oh hello sweetie, glad you could join us for tonight! Daniel tells me this is your first time having something special in memory of your mother.”

“Yeah. My dad…usually spends it on his own. You know how he is,” the boy sighed.

“We do, oh you poor thing!" Claire said sadly. "We have a little memorial every October here to remember Esteban, along with anyone else we’ve lost, God rest their souls. It’s become an important family tradition, but of course you're always welcome. I cleaned the house as best I could and had Daniel help, so hopefully it’s good enough. He's excited to have you over, bless his heart!” she smiled warmly. “That boy brings joy to me every day.”

“Me too, Mrs. Reynolds,” Chris grinned, eyeing him behind her.

“Grandma, can he come in now?” Daniel urged, pushing past her.  

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry! You’ve got that heavy box and I’m just standing here rambling away, don’t mind me,” she laughed.

“It’s fine Grandma, I’ve got it.” He grabbed a hold of the box so Chris could enter and placed it on the floor, kicking the door shut behind them while Claire returned to the kitchen.

“Getting pretty chilly out there,” Chris remarked. He huffed in his hands and removed his gray puffer jacket to place on the rack. Daniel beamed with pride at the sight of him still wearing his wolf hoodie underneath.

“So is it keeping you safe?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” the boy smiled. Daniel hugged him tight.

“I’m really glad you came, Chris. It means a lot to me.”

“Me too,” he replied. “Now that I think of it, I probably brought way too much stuff,” he chuckled, assessing the box on the floor with mild embarrassment.

“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to go through it and hear stories about her!” Daniel replied excitedly. “I know she was just as cool as you.”

“Nah, she was way cooler,” Chris smiled.

“Come on, let’s help with dinner!”

Daniel realized fairly quick that the memorial vigil in question was a bit more extravagant than his boyfriend had probably been expecting, but he was still excited to have him over. The best part about it would certainly be the change of pace. Over the previous four years, it had just been him and his grandparents, and being stuck with them got rather boring. He was excited, too, to share stories about his dad with Chris—something he’d never done, at least not at length. And he would have the chance to share some culture as well.

As the group sat in the dining room to eat supper, his boyfriend glanced around somewhat awkwardly. Maybe the sugar skulls on the end tables are too much? Daniel had done his last English paper on the Day of the Dead festivals in Mexico, and felt it might be fun to incorporate some of the tradition into their memorial night. Explaining what it all meant to Claire and Stephen, of course, had been rather challenging. They were against the skulls at first. But after doing some research, Claire had decided it would be a fun art project for her to paint them, and now they sat proudly on display at various places around the house. Her crowning achievement, however, was a large ofrenda she’d set up in front of the living room window dedicated to Esteban, complete with marigold petals, attempts at his favorite food, and a small cake with cars on it. Daniel didn’t care for the marigolds, given his prior visions of Catalina. And that ofrenda looked a tad embarrassing. Still, he was happy they had made the effort.

“You boys had enough to eat?” Claire asked, wiping her face with a napkin.

“I’m good, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Yeah, me too,” Daniel nodded.

“All right,” she smiled. “Let me just get your plates cleaned up and we can start.” The boys stacked their dishes and flatware to the side for her to gather them, while Stephen took care of the putting away the pots, glassware, and containers of food.  

“You need me to help?” Daniel offered.

“Oh no sweetie, it’s fine,” she assured him. “This day is for you, remember?”

“Oh…yeah, I guess.” He turned to Chris, who was still chewing on his pork as the grandparents left the room. “So how was the food?”

“Mmm, it’s good,” the boy grinned. “House looks more Mexican than I’ve ever seen it look though,” he chuckled. “N-Not that it’s bad!” he said quickly. “I don’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” Daniel laughed. “It’s new to me, too. I kinda like it. Just…it does feel different, doesn’t it?” he said, glancing around at the array of candles, skulls, and small Mexican flag décor. “Maybe more like Christmas, in a way…” He paused a moment and looked back at Chris. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, just a little,” the boy giggled.

“Ugh, Grandma always does this sh—uh, I mean, crap,” Daniel sighed, palming his face. “Sorry, have to watch myself around them. And I feel bad because I can’t get too close to you, ‘cause I don’t know if they’ll freak out.” He held Chris’s hand under the table. That was another thing that always stressed him out whenever his boyfriend was over. The thought that at some point, he might have to come out to his grandparents. He almost felt guilty. After all, they had done so much to accommodate him over the past several years—even accepting things like cracked television screens, broken doors, and his many mood swings. How long would it be before he did something that got him disowned?

“It’s okay,” Chris reassured him, locking their fingers together. “I mean, we’re still young. We don’t have to tell them yet, dude. We have time.”

“That’s kinda what scares me,” Daniel sighed. “What if we don’t? You think everything is fine, and then…something bad happens. One wrong move and your life is over, and suddenly you’re running away and hiding from the cops, or you get hit crossing the street. I know I have my powers and all, but I don’t use them much because…it just causes trouble. But I wish I could’ve saved your mom, Chris.”

“I know,” the boy whispered.

“And with you, I should’ve been more…I don’t know. Brave. I wish I’d gone back to check on you when that car almost-”

“Nah, you would’ve gotten captured, dude. And then what? Stay in jail until your thirties or something? You know, I never told you this, but…when I saw you there, at the end of the road? It almost felt like she was looking out for me,” he said. “And even if you didn’t come back, you did enough. We’re still best friends. Captain Spirit and Super Wolf forever, right?” he smiled. “I’ll always love you and be here for you no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Daniel sniffled. Tears ran down his cheeks. “It means everything to me,” he said, squeezing the boy’s hand tighter. “Just…wish my own brother was, too.”

“Yeah…” He felt Chris jolt for a second in his grasp, as if he’d just been shocked by an electrical outlet.  “M-Me too,” he stammered, taking a deep breath. “Look Daniel, about that-”

“You boys ready?” Claire asked from the doorway.

“Oh…y-yeah!” Daniel exclaimed, quickly wiping his tears away. “Uh sorry, what’d you want to tell me?”

“Eh, just something I was thinking about. It’s not important.” Yeah right, Daniel thought. Chris had been acting a bit strange for the past week, and no matter what excuses he came up with, they didn’t seem to make much sense. If it has anything to do with my brother, he’ll have to talk sooner or later. For now, he decided it wasn’t the right day to press the issue.  

“Okay. Well, we better head to the living room now,” the young wolf smiled thinly. “I’ll let you tell your stories first, since you’re the guest and you kinda know mine.”

“Wow, I feel special,” Chris chuckled.

The pair soon joined the elders in the living room, sitting cross-legged by the hearth, where a gentle fire crackled warm and bright behind them. Claire had set out mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows for everyone on the coffee table. As they got to sipping their favorite holiday drinks and picked chocolates from a variety box, Stephen dug out a set of photo albums and lay them across his lap. Meanwhile, Chris rummaged through the box he’d brought to show them all pictures and memories of his mother, her artwork, and their times together. They seemed like happier days for sure, happier years. His smile was different back then. Maybe truer, more genuine. In many ways, it felt to Daniel like getting to know the shy young boy next door again for the very first time. And he loved him all the more for it.

As he took in all the feelings expressed that night in silent reverence with Lucky curled up beside him, he came to an epiphany of sorts. Much as there could be tension at times among the small circle now gathered, there was also a radiating love that seemed to linger in the atmosphere. He had to admit it did almost did feel like a genuine family moment he’d craved for years, even if Sean couldn’t be there. While the group went around in an improvised fashion sharing stories of their friends, family, and other loved ones who had long since passed, the young wolf also wondered what his older brother and Karen were up to now, in their separate little parts of the world…

Chapter Text

Sean plodded barefoot and drunk along the beaches of Puerto Lobos beneath a vast sea of stars, a bottle of aged Sierra Norte dangling from his weary hand. He had fled home two days ago. He stank. He was hungry. He was alone. He had been alone for a long time, and it was only recently that he’d begun to accept that fact. Sooner or later, the truth of it always caught up with him. Faster than the cops ever could, faster than the FBI agents who promised to get him out of the cartel. Certainly faster than Finn could ever cheer him up. Sure, he could smile for a day at most. Maybe a few hours. But the haunting realization of his place in the world—or lack thereof—always came rushing back, much like the waves now crashing between his aching toes. Everything hurt. He was just…tired.

Over the course of the past two months, he’d tried to comfort himself by keeping what remained of Daniel’s possessions close by. The raccoon hoodie, his little toys, the Power Bear figurine with its dead batteries. Even their father’s blanket. But they didn’t smell like him anymore. They smelled like fire, like blood, like sand, ash, motor oil and drugs, as if the aura of utter waste Sean’s life had become had infected them all. He wondered how long it might be before the most poisonous parts of him infected Finn, too. I don’t expect him to stick around much longer. He’s beat, we both are. He’s almost done here. I know it. Especially after the last stunt he pulled, calling and texting Chris. Rico, Gilberto’s henchman, had picked up his phone after he left it laying on the table at the shop. From there, all hell had broken loose. Ugh, what the fuck was I thinking? Stupid Sean, Stupid!

“Eres estúpido!” he slurred, stumbling along the darkened surf. Bonfires dotted the terrain off in the distance, mingled with faraway laughter that only made him more miserable with each breath of the coastal wind whipping around him. The laughter of families, the laughter of children as the village prepared for Dia de los Muertos and set up their ofrendas. God, what I wouldn’t give to hear my little brother laughing like that again, just one more time. I should’ve played with him more, I should’ve been there instead of always raising a huge fucking fit whenever Dad asked me to look after him. God, I miss them. Then he suddenly remembered what day it was. October 28^th. Five years to the date since they’d run away. It had been five years. Five. Five fucking-

“Dad…” he whimpered, lumbering further away from the water toward the closest backyard fire he saw. “No…Dad, is that you?” he cried. Sean drew closer to the sight of something familiar. Closer, even as his heart pounded in his chest and his head swam for miles across an indiscernible distance of black. His feet dragged behind him like jelly, but he knew he had to get there. He just had to. I’ve been through worse. Come on dude, you can do it. He kept willing himself forward until sure enough, he came upon a handsome young man who looked strikingly like his father.

The figure sat relaxed on a lounge chair just ahead, sipping a beer as he watched over two young boys who laughed and chased each other around the flickering light. Their elongated shadows flickered with it, beckoning Sean closer. One was a child and the other, a teenager. Flashes of memory danced through Sean’s mind, distant, but unmistakably genuine. “Dad? DAD!” he called out frantically, scanning the blurry faces in his head, trying in vain to make it all make sense. But the more he tried, the more it all slipped out of focus. That boy…”Daniel? Daniel!” he cried as he at last stumbled up to the fire, taking another few swigs from the bottle. “Hey, enano! Little cub!” No. It’s not Daniel. What the fuck, don’t be stupid! Don’t be- “Dad, it’s me! DAD!”

But against all logic, against every way he’d been expecting such a happy reunion to go in his alcohol-saturated mind, the father quickly bolted from his chair and rushed forward, calling out in Spanish for the children to get behind him. The trio quickly backed away from the fire and up toward the house. The sound of crying and shouting filled the air. Suddenly, the man had a new face, and Sean realized it wasn’t Esteban. The teenager wasn’t him. And the little boy was most certainly not Daniel.

“Dad, no…wait…I’m sorry! Lo siento!” he sobbed. “Don’t go Dad, please don’t go! Papito no te vayas!”

“Sean!” a voice called behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?!” Finn. Oh no. Oh no, no, no! I can’t face him either…not after what I did. “Man, you got me worried sick, I been lookin’ all over for you for two days!” the young hippie panicked, rushing up from behind to pull him back. He grasped Sean’s left forearm, but the boy quickly tore away from him, reaching for the gun in the back of his waistband. He whirled around and pointed it at him.

“NO!” he shouted. “You want to die, motherfucker? DO YOU?!”

“Whoa whoa, Sean!” he backed down, raising his arms. “Chill out, brother! Listen, let’s just…step back and take a breather, okay? It’s just me sweetie. It’s me! Finnegan McNamara? Your favorite hippie bro? Your boyfriend? The only family you got right now-”

“No,” Sean cut him off, shaking. He tried in vain to click back the hammer on the pistol, but it wouldn’t budge. Safety’s on… “No. I said, Finn…do you want to die?” His arm shook harder now. His lower lip trembled, giving way to tears blurring his vision. “Because I do. I do!” he nodded. “Every…fucking…day,” the boy cried. “But especially today. Because it’s when my dad…when he died!” he choked.

“Shit, Sean…sweetie, I am so fucking sorry,” Finn said sadly.

“I just miss him, man! I just want my dad back, I want him to hug me and tell me it’ll all be okay! I just want my dad…and Daniel. I just…I just want…” His arm fell, and the weapon tumbled to the ground. He shook for a moment, then dropped to his knees, dazed and ashamed as he glanced back on the family he’d just threatened. By the time his eyes met Finn’s, the young man had already stepped forward to wrap his tattooed arms over his aching, drunken body. Sean broke down and wept, crushing his face into that familiar jean vest, the only place that smelled like a sense of home to him anymore.

“No llames a la policía,” Finn said, holding up a hand to the terrified family huddled together at the back door of their beach house. “I got this.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry!” Sean cried.

“Hey, sweetie…don’t worry about it, okay? I’m here, honey. Shhh,” he hushed him, wiping his tears away.

“Why’d they have to take my dad?!” Sean gasped. “Why…” But any answer he could find wasn’t enough to quell his rage, his sadness, or the eternal loneliness he felt. At least the bottle was still in his hand. He stood and stumbled backward, breaking away from Finn as he howled and screamed his agony into the night. In one swift motion, he whipped the glass object at the bonfire, where it exploded in a ball of flaming ruin. Then he tore off again into the darkness of the surf from whence he’d come.

* * *

Karen had been out of prison for two weeks, and it still felt like a part of her was trapped in there. It was hard to believe she had her freedom again. The freedom of movement, the freedom of choice. The freedom she struggled for years to attain, stripped from her, and yet here she was. Back in Away after four long years in that procedural hellhole. .It took some doing, but she’d finally managed to get back in touch with her longtime friend David Madsen, who was kind enough to pick her up outside the gate. Together, they’d spent the previous week on the road gathering supplies for her triumphant return to a place that somehow felt less like home. And catching up on the news. What terrible, bittersweet news it was.

She expected her sons had made it to Puerto Lobos in one piece after she’d given herself up. That with her sacrifice, it was possible they had completed their journey, found their own form of freedom. Or at least something like it, as Sean outlined in the letter he left behind. Instead, they had both done something completely unexpected. And though deep down, she knew all the obvious signs were there—such as Daniel connecting with her more, to the point of calling her ‘mom’—Karen still hadn’t wanted to believe it. ‘Making your own choices doesn’t mean that you can never fool yourself, Sean’. Fuck. How ironic was that?

She wiped the sweat from her brow with a sigh, shoving her son’s letter back in the drawer. She would often take it out to read from time to time since her return. Maybe she wanted to continue fooling herself into believing all was as it should be, that her sons were safe, that if she only stared at those words for long enough, it might make them true. On occasion, she even tried envisioning them in Mexico together. But after a while, the truth always came back to haunt her. ‘You can’t escape reality,’ she recalled herself telling Sean. ‘Even here. We just live slightly apart from it.’ Karen had to wonder just how long that might even be a solution. It no longer felt that way for her. It certainly wasn’t for Sean.

She turned back to her fridge, poring over all the newspaper clippings David had left for her in her absence. Articles with headlines like ‘Massacre at Southern Border Raises Questions’, ‘Four Years Later, Mexican Authorities Still Hunt for Seattle Fugitive’, ‘Bus Avoids Lake Tragedy due to Miracle’, ‘Border Patrol Increases amid Sonora Cartel Threat’. My god, what a fucking mess. Sean hadn’t found safety in Mexico after all. And though her parents were likely having the time of their lives raising Daniel, Karen didn’t imagine them taking too kindly to his ‘superpower’ and the many challenges it posed. She grabbed her pack of cigarettes from the counter and went outside. She needed to smoke. To think. To make peace with another fragment of her past, before it started to cling to her.

Away was a beautiful place at night, lit up by various small bonfires, tiki torches, and gas-powered lamps. Stars hung high in the stratosphere overhead, their gaze ancient and fixed. Unlike the day, it all felt less like a deserted wasteland and more like a mysterious trailer park, albeit safer, more secure than the civilized world—even with the passing shadows of people coming and going to visit each other on the nightly checkup rounds. Out here, no one had to worry about their neighbors being pricks or pulling guns on them. Everyone played a hand in helping each other, which was something Karen had missed while stuck in prison. And the way all of them had banded together to help and embrace her sons was still something she was monumentally grateful for, even if things had turned out less than ideal. That, at least, was a memory she could smile about. Hmm.

She still missed them so. From Daniel’s morning excitement as they all ate cereal together at her table, to the various board games they would play at dusk, their hikes into the canyon, the impromptu movies the town would gather for, that one last night where they had lit up the sky with her lanterns. Despite how everything had turned out with her leaving Esteban to raise them alone, and despite her prior life adventures and subsequent failures…she missed them. She missed their company, their warmth, and most of all, their smiling faces. She was glad to have given them things to smile about, short though their time together had been. And to have imparted her aged wisdom, flawed though it was. I just hope they’re both safe, wherever they are. It still hurt to think about. She thought of calling Daniel, but of course it was much too soon. Smoothing things over with her parents wasn’t something she was excited about. That ought to be thrilling. Can’t wait, Mother.

Karen had just stepped off her deck to clear her mind with a quiet walk around town when she became aware of a lithe, skinny figure darting through the shadows in the distance. They had veered across the street and now broke into a run toward her. Stanley. As the bald man closed in, feet kicking up dust with every step, he looked visibly upset. Karen glanced down at the trail of prints left behind him. He had come from Joan’s RV. The door was suddenly wide open after having been shut for several days, and that was only because David and Arthur had forced it. No one had seen her go in or come out, which had the whole town worried. The men now plodded away from the site after having exited the trailer. Both wore equally grim expressions. Karen’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

“Oh no…oh shit…Stan?” she panicked, tossing her cigarette in the dirt as she ran to meet him. The timid young man already had tears in his eyes. “Stan, what’s going on?!” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Karen…K-Karen listen honey, okay?” he spoke, stroking her arm between sobs. “Joan hasn’t been doing too well these past weeks. We all knew it. But you know how she gets when she’s not feeling well,” he trembled. “She keeps to herself, so we didn’t think anything unusual. We tried to get her some food, keep her company, talk to her, but she wouldn’t have it after this last bout,” he cried. “God Karen, I’m so sorry we couldn’t-”

“No…” the woman cut him off above a whisper, tearing away from him. “Arthur?! DAVID!” she shrieked. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s true!”

“Karen wait, listen-” the former security guard started.

“Oh god, Joan!” Karen ran. David attempted to stop her, but she ran. Ran through that indiscernible distance of black, feet pounding the barren red soil in desperation as hopeless as that of her eldest son. Panic ensnared her nerves at the sight of her friend’s sculptures looming high overhead like totems, like religious relics, like sudden unconscious memorials to the dead. The last great work of a long-forgotten artist, relegated to a literal dustbin of history out in the Arizona desert. It was cruel. That woman deserved a better end, even if this was the one she had chosen. ‘Life can be so cynical sometimes.’

Karen stopped just short of the stairs leading into Joan’s RV. Partly because she needed to catch her breath, and partly because she had hoped to fool herself for just awhile longer. She closed her eyes tight to settle down. Just breathe Karen, just breathe. As she waited there for what seemed an eternal moment, she focused in on the blackness and the absence of thought. She didn’t want to cross that distance. She couldn’t. Not again, after Esteban. And on the anniversary of his death. What the fuck. She tried to imagine all was well. That Jolie was inside healthy, happy, still hydrating, still defying death on a daily basis. Still able to make her infamous waffles Daniel had loved. That her tender arms were still there to wrap her tight in the same comforting embrace she’d offered after the boys left for Mexico. Karen longed to feel that, just one more time. And sure enough, a pair of arms did take her in from behind. But they weren’t Jolie’s arms. David.

“Are you sure you…want to go in there?” the man asked apprehensively. Karen opened her eyes and bit her lip, determined even in her fear.

“No,” she clenched her teeth. “But I have to see for myself…please just let go of me, David,” she whispered. The humbled man obeyed and backed off. Karen stepped up into the dimly lit trailer where scents of death and excrement filled the air, pungent aromas confirming what she already knew to be true. She glanced along the counters first. Remnants of stale, moldy food had been left out, gathering maggots. Her gaze then moved to the narrow walkway of checkered linoleum that led toward the bedroom section. Joan lay motionless in a tangled heap just outside her bathroom. Flies buzzed and flew about her bloated, decomposing body.

“Oh god!” the woman backed away. She covered her mouth in horror and disgust as the shock of it all at last overcame her, ripping its way into her stomach, punching fresh holes in her heart. She turned back down the steps from whence she’d come. There, unable to fool herself any longer, Karen vomited and fell sobbing into David’s waiting embrace.

* * *

“And that’s how I’ll always remember my dad,” Daniel cried, taking hold of Chris's hand as they sat beside the fire. “A man from Mexico who came here and sacrificed everything for his family. A brother he taught to sacrifice everything for me. And even if it wasn’t perfect...”

*

“And even if we had to run,” Sean whimpered in Finn’s arms, “he taught us how important the-”

*

“-bonds of family are. That we’d always have each other for life."

*

"That we'd always find each other again."

*

And nothing…”

*

“And nothing…”

*

“And nothing could ever separate us,” Karen cried.

* * *

Catalina awoke from a cold sweat that night and tossed the soaked duvet off her slender frame. Her skull ached. Her legs didn’t want to move. What time is it? She rolled to her side and scrambled for the phone on her nightstand, only for it to drop to the floor with a thunk. Shit. She groaned and willed herself to pick it up.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed. A sharp pain slammed through her skull at the bright light, at which point she realized she’d been sleeping on and off for the better part of two days. In all that time, she had certainly sweat out the remainder of her medicine—or so she hoped. Scattered images from a vivid dream flashed through her mind with renewed clarity now as she sat up, confirming that she was indeed back to her regularly scheduled programming. It felt good. A little overwhelming too, but…better. She could focus again. She could feel feelings. She could see things as they were meant to be seen. And best of all, she could talk to people like she was an actual person again, rather than the zombie those pills had made her out to be. Even Santiago had freaked out.

Catalina eagerly typed in her lock code and opened her notes app to get to work. Ever since her cousin had seen the notebook of drawings in her backpack—not to mention her stunt at Willie’s Diner the previous week—she’d decided it was best to write down whatever images came to her instead. It was safer and more secure, she realized, to put them on her phone for the time being. Not that there was much to be gleaned thus far. Her prior attempts on Sunday had proven less than fruitful, and felt in many ways like wishful gibberish. Gotta love those pills. Now, however, a greater sense of what had to be done was emerging.

“Sand people…red sun…precarious patriot shrouded in dust…blue butterflies,” she stopped in thought. Daniel did say he saw a blue butterfly in the woods. Other images began to emerge from deep in her mind as her thumbs hovered over the keypad. But none that made sense in relation to him. “Strange. Storm clouds,” she whispered. “Hands submerged, developing story of a…dark room. Two moons. Twisting time around your fingers…a doe in the forest. Ancient secrets buried in amber. Preview of movie ‘Lighthouse’ while at Eagle Cinema,” she remembered from last Friday. What the hell does this mean? There’s too much here to figure out. She tapped her index fingers aimlessly over the sides of her phone in contemplation, then shook her head and hit the back button to look through the rest of her notes. New strategy, Cat. If she couldn’t come up with anything else, maybe something could be learned by scrolling through her past entries. As it so happened, she’d made another the previous day. A string of ten numbers.

“What the hell? I do not remember typing this.” But by the same token, she wasn’t completely sure. It was impossible to sleep for even twelve straight hours without at least getting up to use the bathroom once or twice, after all. I must have been in and out of it. Another reason Catalina rarely took her meds. Whenever she finally emerged from the haze of a comedown, she would often find little notes or other strings of information scattered about her room that only made sense if she was lucid enough to connect them. The mystery of the numbered Post-It notes still stuck on her mirror from months ago still had yet to be solved or incorporated into anything meaningful. Unless…

The girl got out of bed and wobbled over to her vanity dresser, grabbing a water bottle she’d left out. She took several large gulps, then began to pore over what she’d written of her dreams during the summer. The notes themselves made little sense, but the numbers in each corner appeared familiar. She looked back at her phone, switching over to her maps app. She’d also placed a pin at a certain location she didn’t remember either, but that looked familiar too.

“Coordinates to…Daniel’s house,” she chuckled. “What do ya know? That means the number I put down in my notes would be,” she mused, searching her mirror to connect the dots. “Bingo.” Sure enough, it was scattered across the bottoms of three pink-colored papers. She copied the number from her notes and hit the call button, more excited than she’d been in a while.

“Hello?” a young boy’s voice answered. Daniel. Thought so.

“Meow,” she smiled. “It’s your friendly neighborhood alley cat.”

“Shit, no way!” Daniel exclaimed. “I was so worried about you, you have no idea!”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I kinda dozed off for a few days.”

“How are you doing, are you okay?”

“Sort of. I mean, I’m awake," she chuckled. "That’s always a good thing, right?”

“Damn it's good to hear your voice. We thought something bad might’ve happened to you.”

“Probably will sooner or later,” she shrugged, plopping down on the edge of her bed. “But right now, I don’t really care.”

“Shut up, don’t say that!”

“Relax, Super Wolf Diaz!”

“Wait, how did you…you found me on Instagram?!”

“Guilty,” Catalina sighed. “Wasn’t that hard, no offense.”

“But it’s about to be!” another boy giggled mischievously.

“Chris, shut up! Gimme back the phone, ugh!”

“How did you get my boyfriend’s number, you crazy stalker?”

“Can't tell. State secrets,” Catalina grinned, twisting a thread of hair around her finger. “Besides, aren’t you just so curious as to why I called?”

“Uh…you’re dying?” Chris replied.

“What?”

“Curiosity killed the Cat!”

“Mmm, good one,” she chuckled. “No, actually I’ve been doing some thinking since I managed to sweat out all the poison infecting my brain. And since I'm a little sick of living out the subplot of X-Men 3 with the whole power-blocking bullshit…I changed my mind.” And I might just need some information that only you two can give me.

“For real?!” Daniel said excitedly.

"So you're gonna...do your thing on us?"

"Sure...why not?" Catalina smiled. “You boys got any plans for Dia de los Muertos?”

Chapter Text

That Halloween weekend had been an exciting time for Daniel and Chris. Over the course of the past Friday, they’d spent hours perfecting their costumes for a long night of trick-or-treating. Daniel, of course, had opted for a wolf outfit consisting of a white furry rave hood and painted accents on his face. Chris had wanted to go as a zombie at first. But after hearing his boyfriend’s story on their memorial night about the events leading up to his father’s death, he decided it was in bad taste. The two quickly came to the conclusion—albeit last minute—that going as their old superhero alter egos was the better choice.

By the time they returned home to Claire and Stephen’s, their pillowcases were full of candy; however, their hearts were somewhat empty. Much as it was fun to spend so much quality time together, their friends had been unable to join them for various reasons. Catalina was celebrating Dia de los Muertos early with her family. Lucas was working on an important tech project for college credits, and Natalie still refused to associate with them—although Daniel accepted his own wrongdoing in the latter. Still, they took it in stride and were far more eager for the coming Monday, which arrived quick. Day of the Dead had finally begun. Catalina had made them a promise, and—for better or worse—it was time for more answers.

“So what do you think is going to happen?” Chris asked as they boarded the bus. “Will she like, zap us to another dimension?”

“I don’t know. Kinda worried she’ll just microwave our brains, like that time we burnt popcorn at your place,” Daniel cringed.

“Man, why do you always gotta think the worst?”

“Maybe ‘cause I’ve been through the worst? I know what it’s like to lose control, dude. It’s not fun. Did you forget what happened last summer? Or that time I broke the door?”

“That’s only when you get super angry or protective though,” Chris pointed out as he took his usual spot at the window. Daniel slid in beside him. “And she said the bad shit only happened because of her dad, right?”

“Still, I don’t get how you’re not even concerned.”

“I am a little, but I mean…would it be the worst thing if we went to another dimension?” Chris shrugged. “Beaver Creek kinda sucks.”

“Maybe for you it does,” Daniel mumbled. His boyfriend looked hurt. “Shit! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”

“It’s…fine,” Chris breathed. “Just eventually wanna get away from a lot of things, ya know? Aside from you, I don’t feel like I have much going for me in this crummy-ass town.”

“I know.” Daniel held his hand. “I guess I can’t blame you. But we still need to be careful. I’d hate for my grandma to walk in and see us both like…collapsed on the floor or something.”

“Ugh, would you relax already?” Catalina plodded over, taking the seat across the aisle from them. The boys immediately looked to their left. Neither had noticed her getting on the bus close behind them. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. Promise.”

“Guess we’ll find out.” Daniel looked skeptical. Cat rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, what time did you say your grandparents are coming home again?”

“Uh…they’re actually up at River Rock for another day staying at a friend’s cabin, so we’ve got the house to ourselves.”

“Cool,” Cat smirked. “Now do you mind chilling the fuck out please? Last thing I need is people hearing our business.”

“Hey everyone, we don’t do drugs!” Chris announced to the bus. Daniel elbowed him softly in the ribs.

“Dude, shut the hell up, are you kidding me?”

“Oh come on, it’s funny!” the boy giggled as Catalina cracked up.

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a little funny,” the girl laughed. “Lighten up! Distractions don’t hurt. I mean, look at me, dude. I’ve got every reason in the world to be freaked the hell out.”

“Yeah, well so do I! You don’t know certain…things about me yet.”

“Eh, I’m a mind reader, remember? Sort of,” she said, raising her knees against the seat in front of her. “Besides, I don’t even know what your deal is. When we first met, you were all ‘I had a vision, Catalina!’ Now all of a sudden you hate my guts? You’re the one who wanted this.”

“I never said I hated you,” Daniel defended. “W-Wait…wanted what?” Cat laughed again. There came those butterflies once more, flitting around in his stomach. What the hell? You have a boyfriend, dude. You shouldn’t be feeling that way. But she has a nice laugh. And she smells good…shut up.

“Uh, you wanted to find out what I can do with my abilities?” she raised an eyebrow.
“What’d you think I meant?”

“N-Nothing!” Daniel stammered, turning red. “I just-”

“You’re super cute,” she said, feigning a swoon. “Guess I better behave, huh? Before anything spooky happens to you. Or your boyfriend kills me.”

“Nah, ‘cause you ain’t getting him anyway,” Chris insisted, pulling the boy in for a long, slow kiss. Awkward. A few paper wads and a couple pens flew in their direction, but for once, Daniel elected not to stop them. He still didn’t entirely trust Cat with his biggest secret, and knowing she had psychic abilities was off-putting enough. Chris grinned when he backed away as if to show the girl who his boyfriend belonged to, but she just chuckled and shook her head. Daniel facepalmed. He felt ragingly uncomfortable.

“Ooh, shots fired! That was adorable,” Catalina remarked, tossing a piece of gum in her mouth as the bus started to move. “Really, I’m touched. You enjoyed that, right Daniel?”

Shit, the boy thought, even as he caught the scent of peppermint on her breath. He weighed his options. If he said yes, she’d think he was just lying to save face. Or that he was an asshole. Or at the very least, tolerating non-consensual behavior. But if he said no, Chris would be upset and get the impression that he liked her. It was all embarrassing, and he was mad at them both for it. Daniel grit his teeth and went for a neutral approach.

“You’re both guilty,” he said, forcing a laugh.

“Mmm, wise choice,” Cat said. “Guess you’re an objective judge after all.”

“What…what does that mean?” Daniel asked, before realizing just how foolish of a question that was. In all his conversations with Catalina, he was at last beginning to understand one very important thing: Whenever she divulged a psychic thought, she did so unconsciously. She almost never said exactly what she meant, because half the time, she couldn’t grasp the meaning herself. Unless she’s drawing or distracting herself with something. Then he came to another conclusion, one that was even more troubling. Maybe that’s why her power is so…chaotic. She needs something outside herself to focus it.

“Better question,” Catalina said. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Um…what?”

“It’s a riddle. And rule is, you can’t use Google to solve it. Let’s see if you boys are smart enough to come up with the answer before we get to your stop.”

“And then what?” Chris asked.

“We’ll see,” she shrugged, taking her phone and AirPods out. “Plus I kinda want to listen to my music now, so shush.”

As the bus turned out of the parking lot and onto the main roads, Daniel and Chris once again looked at each other dumbfounded. But if they had to play along with her, so be it. At least it’ll take some of the pressure off. Maybe she was right, and what they needed for the moment was a distraction. The two soon got to work, racking their brains with a sheet of paper and a pen. Occasionally, Cat would look over in curiosity to see if they’d come up with an answer yet. But after a half-hour of scribbles and shaky, misshapen words, it was a bust. The trio at last arrived on Evergreen Street.

“Okay, so what is it?” Daniel asked as they hopped off the steps.

“Yeah, all I know is it’s something from Alice in Wonderland,” Chris added.

Catalina chuckled. “The answer is whatever you want it to be.”

“Oh come on!” Daniel protested. “We didn’t try to work this out for nothing.”

“Truth is, it wasn’t supposed to have one,” she explained as they plodded up the Reynolds’ walkway. “Lewis Carroll came up with his own after so many people asked. But I like my version better. So…how is a raven like a writing desk?” The boys shrugged. “Both can ruffle a few feathers with the right point,” she grinned.

“I don’t get it,” Chris replied.

“Quill pens are feathers with a sharp point? A raven has feathers and a beak? Some writers ruffle-”

“Oh, I get it!” Daniel chuckled. “That’s pretty smart.”

“It’s pretty lame,” Chris yawned.

“Well, I think it’s cool.”

“Like you read anything other than Hawt Dawg Man!” the boy giggled.

“Shut up! I do…I mean, not that there’s much in the house besides Claire’s weird romance crap, but Grandpa likes classic stuff.”

“Okay, wow,” Cat said as they stepped onto the porch. “This place is already making me want to run away.” Daniel gave her an insulted look. “I don’t mean it like that,” she clarified. “Just…I get the sense people have run from here before. Strong emotional vibes from that.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, unlocking the door. “Sean and I, we…stayed here for a while. Had to leave because the cops found out. My mom left when she was a teenager.” He opened the door, and the group walked inside to remove their shoes. Lucky bounded down the stairs to greet them. “Hey girl! Who’s a good puppy?” Daniel smiled. “Uh, I’m just gonna feed her quick and let her outside.”

“Cute dog,” Catalina said. She knelt down to pet her, but Lucky immediately growled and snapped at her hand. The girl jumped back.

“Lucky!” Daniel scolded. The dog whimpered and hung her head. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

“Uh yeah, it’s cool, she didn’t get me,” Cat forced a smile. “Forgot to tell you, I…tend to have that effect on pets for some reason. Probably why my cousins don’t have any.”

“She’s kind of a rescue too, so she gets jumpy, especially with my grandparents out of town. I think she just gets anxious around new people. It’s okay pupper, I’m here,” he said, consoling the dog.

“Or she can smell the death on me,” the girl chuckled. Lucky growled again.

Daniel let out a labored sigh and took his dog to the kitchen to refill her bowls with food and water while Chris and Catalina stayed behind. He waited a few seconds as she ate before realizing it was probably a better idea to put them outside for her when he hooked her to the line. No way am I letting you stick around for whatever happens with Cat. Lucky would be a distraction at best. Whatever was worst, he didn’t want to think about it. Maybe she’s right, and Lucky knows that something is off. Is it even a good idea to have Cat over? Should I show her what I can do? I don’t know.

Despite all the years that had passed, it always seemed like bad things happened when other people were involved in his life. Either he had ended up using his power and flying into a rage, or something else went wrong. The boy glanced over at the TV with a shudder, recalling the time he’d hurled the phone at it. Lucky had been scared. In some ways, he worried more about her safety than his own. There’s no telling what happened to her when she was a puppy. She doesn’t deserve to be scared by a couple super-powered freaks in the house. And what if something happens to us, and she’s left on her own?

“I know girl,” Daniel sighed as Lucky licked at his fingers. “I’m a little scared too. But no matter what happens, I’m not leaving you behind, okay? Promise.” He hated making them. After all, nobody could see the future. But for better or worse, he’d also made one to Catalina: That he would save her, no matter what was coming in the future. And if things ever got ugly again, as they tended to do…he would be ready. I have to be. “Okay, let’s get you outside.”

*          *          *

It was about two hours later when each of the boys had finally decided they were mentally and emotionally prepared. In that time, they had ordered a pizza, spent some time on the PlayBox, listened to music, and took a short walk. Much as Chris had been excited throughout much of the day, it seemed the closer it came to Catalina using her powers, the more anxious he got. Strangely enough, Daniel grew more confident. He had pulled Chris aside for a few minutes to reassure him. ‘If I feel anything bad happening, I’ll use my powers to stop it.’ What he wouldn’t admit was that he still was not a hundred percent sure he could. They’d never encountered another super-powered individual after all, and how strong she was with it remained to be seen.

Daniel pondered these things in the back of his mind as the trio went about pulling the furniture back from the living area so they’d have enough space. Chris took to removing cushions from the couch for them all to sit in a circle, then dimmed the lights and set out some candles on the glass coffee table they kept to the side. Catalina then insisted on placing a mirror in front of the fireplace directly across from her. The boys thought it weird, but she’d said something about it being easier for spirits to pass through. Daniel begrudgingly managed to unscrew the one from the back of the Reynolds’ bedroom door for that. She also asked for a Ouijia board, which he had to dig out of its hiding place in his closet. He and Chris had only used it once on one of their many sleepovers.

With the stage finally set, Cat sat cross-legged on her cushion and glanced at the boys in silence. Daniel was positioned to her left, and Chris to her right. Her gaze shifted from each of them to the mirror and back, then down at the board. She closed her eyes a few moments as if in deep thought. Or prayer. Daniel swore he saw the flames on the candles rise ever so slightly in their flickering. Just a brief second, but no more. He couldn’t be certain if it was him or Catalina. Shit. That’s going to make things interesting. The girl opened her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Daniel recalled the last time he’d heard that question. Flores had asked him that on the cliffs at Eagle Rock Summit. It started with the revelation of a disturbing family secret, and it had ended with him choking her in anger with his powers. No, he thought. I’m not ready. But I have to be.

“I’m good,” he nodded.

“Dude,” Chris breathed, grabbing his hand in urgency. “Are you sure? Because whatever happens, I just want you to know I-”

“I know Chris,” Daniel said. He squeezed the boy’s hand back. “I love you too. It’ll be okay. Captain Spirit and Super Wolf forever, right?”

“Right,” Chris sniffled.

Daniel leaned forward and wiped the tears from his cheeks before brushing away his own. He took another deep breath and looked to Catalina. There was a fear in his eyes, he knew. And he was sure she could see it laid bare, just like everything else about him. But he no longer cared. Whatever happened next, he had to trust her. And most of all, he had to trust himself to do the right thing if it came to that. He nodded again.

“I’m ready.”

“Then both of you take my hands and close your eyes,” she said, opening her palms. They did as instructed. Almost immediately upon the darkness, Daniel felt a surge of power rush through his veins from his fingertips upward. It was scary at first, much like an electric shock. But he kept recalling Sean’s voice in the back of his mind. Stay focused. Soon enough, that intimidating sense of power leveled out in his chest, giving way to a gentle sense of calm, even euphoria. Cat held her hands steady. Then there came a light, oscillating feeling, as if their heartbeats were all in sync, shifting from one end to the other.

“Feels good, right?” she said. Daniel uttered a sound of wordless approval, which Chris echoed. “Now open your eyes, but slowly, and look down at the board. Don’t let go.” Again, they did as they were told. To their amazement, the planchette began to turn in circles on its own. It moved from corner to corner. Chris looked up at Daniel, and Daniel to Chris.

“Uh, that’s not me!”

“Of course not,” Catalina smirked. “It’s all of us. All of us…as…one.” The moment she said that last word, the planchette stopped. It was pointed directly at him. “Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” she chuckled. Oh no. “You’re like me? Daniel, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I, uh…I-I don’t know,” the boy shrugged. “I guess…I thought you already knew, or…something.” Cat looked down. The planchette moved again, spelling out a word among several letters. L-I-E-S. “That’s not fair!” he protested. “You’re using my own powers against me?” This was bad. Really bad. If this is what’s going to happen when we’re all connected, how can I ever stop her if I need to?

“I guess it should’ve been obvious, now that I think about it,” Catalina breathed. “I’m not always the best at connecting dots.” She met eyes with him, and her gaze lingered a moment. “So either this is going to be harder than it should, or it’s going to be a lot easier. I haven’t exactly done it this way before, or worked with someone else who had powers, but…we’ll see.” She looked over to her right. “You still good, Chris?”

“Oh yeah, stellar,” the boy sighed.

Daniel could tell he felt left out. He could also tell the boy’s hands were sweating, though he couldn’t explain how he knew it. A thought entered his mind. Brief and fleeting, though unmistakably one from Chris. ‘I just want my mom right now. Please let me see her again. Please. That’s all I want.’ Daniel glanced up at him, too afraid to look him in the eye. But he sent his own thought over, in hopes he could hear it too. I’m sorry, Chris. Powers or not, I’m still right here with you. I want to see my dad, too. Chris’s head jolted up in shock. He smiled. Message received. Good.

“Swoon,” Catalina grinned at each of them. “Now…eyes back to the board,” she breathed, slowly releasing her grip. The two felt a tingling sensation, but the connection wasn’t broken. She then clasped her hands together in front of her, proceeding to close her eyes and blow softly on them. “I haven’t done this in forever. Dios, dame fuerzas,” she prayed. Cat placed her hands on the boys’ foreheads as they looked down at the board. The planchette spun at erratic speeds now, highlighting new letters as it moved. E-S-T-E-B-A-N. Then E-M-I-L-Y. A great wind suddenly blasted forth from the mirror, enveloping the room in a bright white light. The intense feeling of euphoria again took over both of the boys. “Okay, close your eyes!” Catalina shouted, though her voice began to sound far away. “Daniel, if anything happens, you-”

Chapter Text

“Huh?” Daniel hit the brakes and ground his bicycle to halt, skidding across the gravel. Funny. For a moment, he completely forgot where he was. Setting one foot down on the pavement, he quickly checked his watch. 5:22pm. Then he took in his surroundings. It was a beautiful sunny day in Seattle, not too cold, and the leaves had just begun to turn. Halloween was just around the corner. Life was good, he felt. But he had the overwhelming sense that something important was missing, and that caused a slight nagging feeling in his gut.

“Weird,” he shrugged. He continued on his bike, pedaling up onto the sidewalk. Relishing the feeling of the crisp wind on his face, the clear blue skies, the birds tweeting, and the anticipation of finally donning the wolf costume he’d worked so hard on. This is gonna be the best Halloween ever. Can’t wait for Zack’s party. Or hanging out with Jessica.

Then his phone dinged. He stopped again to check his notifications. Noah, Jess, and Zack were blowing up his Snapchat with plans for the weekend. Then another message popped up. A text that made his heart stop. ‘Better get home mijo before we catch this movie without you! – Love, Papito.’

“Dad…” he thought with a warm smile. Then it dawned on him. His smile gave way to a gasp. “DAD!” he cried, launching forward. Feet pounded the pedals with all his might as a cold sweat overcame him. His legs were tired. The sun blinded his eyes. His ankles ached. The winding curves of the roads as he coasted downhill at breakneck speeds were dizzying. But he had to get home. He had to.

At the bottom of a steep hill, he made a right turn, then veered a sharp left through an alley. He remembered having set up small ramps on the narrower back streets with Noah some time ago for their BMX efforts. Or at least in this version of reality, he had. In either case, they certainly helped him get back faster. Come on, come on! he urged himself, zipping around the suburban roads of Broadview faster than he ever had. He didn’t consciously remember half the streets he rode on, and yet somehow, his body knew every twist and turn. Before long, he arrived on Lewis Avenue. His heart pounded with excitement. He couldn’t stop smiling. And he couldn’t stop crying.

As he came up on his old house, he saw someone knelt down in the front yard by the fence, planting flowers. The man looked up. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. Even after all these years, he would recognize that face anywhere. He eagerly skidded to a halt, throwing the bike down on the side of the road. He ran. Ran, though his legs ached. Ran, though his chest might explode. Ran, despite the splitting pain in his skull that was trying to force him to remember other things he didn’t care to. It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. He was home.

“DAD!” the boy cried, leaping into the arms of his father in tears.

“Hey, mijo, you made it!” the man smiled. His embrace was the warmest thing Daniel had felt in a long time. Even if his dad did smell of motor oil and cologne. “Sean and I were getting worried. Hey, son…are you okay?” Daniel didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

“I missed you, Dad!” he cried into his shoulder. “I missed you so much!”

“Really? You were only gone about two hours. Did you hit your head or something?”

“N-No…I don’t think so,” Daniel sniffled, releasing his iron tight grip. “I just wanted to say that…I love you, and…I’m s-sorry if I made you w-worry, or if I was ever a bad son, or-”

“Hey, hey,” Esteban said in a calming voice. “There’s no need for that, okay?” he kissed his son’s hair. “Look, Daniel…I know things have been rough. We’re moving to a new town soon, you’ll miss all your friends, have to go to a new school, you’re still growing up…it’s scary, I know. Believe me, it is for me too. But we’re all in this together, right mijo? We’ll make it work.”

“Right…” Daniel cried.

“I know we said some angry things to each other before. I’m sorry too. But you have never been a bad son. Okay?” The boy nodded. “I love you, and I’m so proud of you,” he said, hugging him and ruffling his hair. “And look at the handsome little Diablo you’re becoming, eh?”

“Stop!” Daniel giggled. “I’m not.”

“Oh trust me, all the women will be chasing after you in Beaver Creek before long. If they don’t chase me or your brother first!”

“Wait! We’re moving to…Beaver Creek?”

“Did you forget?”

*             *           *

“Mmm…w-what?” Chris breathed as he opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. It was all white. Maybe with hints of blue, but…white. And cold. Very cold, in fact. He sat up. “Oh,” he remembered. “It’s my snow fort.” Strange. He recalled building them in the back yard almost every winter with his father, and yet at the same time, he had no memory of such a thing ever happening. Where am I? That was the first question that came to mind. The second was when. I guess it doesn’t really matter. As the boy crawled over and squeezed through the exit, he found himself standing in his front yard near the fence. It was a bright, clear morning. He heard a bark off in the distance. It sounded familiar, but…not. A name popped in his head. Luca.

“Luca?” he clapped twice, surveying the snow-covered yard. Another bark came, this one closer. “Luca, come here boy!” he called. Then he caught sight of a brisk movement heading up across the frozen landscape. “Oh my god, no way!” Chris smiled. It was a beautiful gray Siberian husky, the kind of dog he had always wanted but had never owned. Until now, it seemed.

Bursts of soft snow kicked up in the air as the happy pup eagerly bounded toward him. The boy glanced over to the back yard a moment to check if his tree house was still there. Oddly enough, it wasn’t. Maybe I’ll ask Dad for Christmas. He then looked back at Luca, only to be tackled over, effectively destroying the fragile roof of his fort. He didn’t care. “Whoa!” he laughed. The dog wet-nosed him and licked his face all over. “Stop, stop, stop!” he giggled, rolling around in the snow. How have I never done this before? It was pure joy, and the child in him wanted it to last forever. The pup soon headed back toward the house and barked a few more times again to get his attention.

“Hey Chris buddy, breakfast is ready!” his dad called. He couldn’t remember the last time the man sounded so sober. Or so happy. Maybe it’s just the calm before another storm, he thought. For whatever reason, he didn’t go back inside just yet. There were a few other things to check over first. Captain Spirit was back to his old adventures. And Mant-…who? It was Man-something, he knew that. But he couldn’t fully recall. The strange feeling of something missing overcame him suddenly. And new names flooded his mind, where once there were old ones. New superheroes. New friends. Family. Locations. And the vague memory that someone else was moving into town who was related to the Reynolds. What is this place? But such questions disappeared as quickly as they came. And it all went out the window with what he heard next.

“Chris honey, breakfast!” He knew that voice. He could pick it out in a crowd of millions. A voice more familiar to him than anything else in the world. The first voice he’d ever heard. A loving voice. A compassionate voice. The only voice that mattered anymore. “I made your favorite eggs, sunny-side up!” the woman smiled, walking out on the porch.

“M-Mom?!” Chris gasped. Tears immediately flooded his eyes. “MOM!” he shouted. For the first time that day, he didn’t think about how cold it was. He didn’t think about how bad things were, or used to be, or never were. His heart, for the first time in years, was full. And so he ran. He just…ran. Overcome with emotion, snow crunching beneath his feet, red cape trailing proudly behind him with a song in his heart. He rounded the corner to the steps, nearly falling over, and leapt into her waiting arms.

“Hey, bud! How’s my little superhero today,” she smiled, embracing him.

“Mom!” he cried. “Mom, I love you! I’m so sorry! Oh god, I missed you so much,” he sobbed. “It was all my fault! It was all my…”

“Oh sweetie, are you okay?” she kissed his head. She felt warm. So warm. Not like the cold landscape he’d grown to hate somewhere…else. “What’s wrong honey, what’s your fault?”

“I…I-I don’t remember,” he sniffled, finally letting go. “But I just wanted to say, I…I love you!”

“Oh sweetheart, I love you too,” she said, hugging him again. “You feel a little warm, are you feeling okay?” she asked. She put a hand to his forehead. A sudden shock ran through his veins. He recalled something familiar about it, yet faraway. No. Push it back, don’t think about that. I can’t lose this. “Oh honey, you’re burning up! Let’s get you inside, okay?”

“Mom, I’m sorry! Please don’t forget me!”

‘Chris? Chris, wake up!’

Daniel…

*           *          *

“Chris!” Daniel pleaded. “Please wake up!” A hush of uncomfortable silence permeated the darkened room. He had been squeezing the boy’s ice cold hands for what felt like hours now. Candles swirled in the air around his slight frame in a desperate bid to provide warmth. It seemed of little use. The tears had frozen onto his pale cheeks, and they weren’t melting. Catalina grasped Daniel’s shoulder with one hand to steady him, keeping the other firmly planted on his boyfriend’s forehead. She grit her teeth and sniffled. Meanwhile, the planchette was still moving across the board, constantly tracing the letters of his name in hopes he would come out of it.

“I’m so sorry!” Cat whimpered. “Look Daniel, maybe this was a…wait!”

Chris’s hands suddenly squeezed back. His eyes snapped open. He gasped a deep breath and coughed. The candles went out and dropped to the floor with a thud as Lucky began barking outside, clamoring at the door to be let back in. Daniel dialed up the lights with his power, returning the cold room to its former warmth. Catalina, visibly shaken, backed away to give them a moment.

“Daniel!” Chris leaned in to embrace him as they both cried.

“Chris, thank god you’re okay!”

“I saw her!” the boy wept. “I saw my mom!”

“I saw my dad too,” Daniel said, holding onto him for dear life. “And go figure, we were moving to Beaver Creek!”

“Really?” Chris laughed. “So that’s who was moving in down the street.”

“Our parents are okay!” Daniel chuckled through tears as they let go. “They’re really okay.”

“God, I love you so much! S-Sorry I scared you,” the boy rubbed his eyes. “I just…I didn’t want to leave, you know?”

“Me neither,” Daniel admitted. “But I couldn’t leave you alone. And I never will,” he nodded. “Shit. Lucky!” He reached up with his hand to open the door, allowing the excited dog back in. She quickly bounded over to them and jumped up to lick both their faces.

“I even had a dog named Luca, you should’ve seen him,” Chris grinned. “He was so cute! And my dad was sober, I just…I can’t believe it,” he smiled.

“Come here!” Daniel said, hugging him again. After a few more moments of composing themselves, they finally mustered up the courage to look over at Catalina again. Despite all the happiness in the room, she had buried her face in her hands. Is she upset, or just relieved? Maybe this was a lot for her too. Daniel rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hey…are you okay?”

“I don’t know." She reluctantly looked up at him. Tears fell down her cheeks. “It’s just been a long time, ya know?” she sniffed. “Feel like I fucked up…”

“Dude, no way!” Chris took her hand. “That was…I don't even have words.”

“Cat, listen,” Daniel said shakily, still overwhelmed by the experience. “You just gave us something really special. I can’t even say how much I...we…what I mean is...thank you,” he cried. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah,” Chris breathed as they both hugged her tight. It took a few seconds, but she hugged them both back.

“I could’ve really hurt you. Both of you. I’m sorry-”

“It wasn’t your fault at all,” Chris assured her. “I just…wanted to stay awhile longer.”

“Well…okay,” she nodded with a smile.

As the trio embraced each other again and got back to talking and sharing stories from their lives, Daniel reflected back on the things his father had told him. For the first time in a long time, he felt secure and safe. Maybe even a sense that, despite all the hardships, Beaver Creek was exactly where he was meant to be.

But as he looked at Catalina, and then to Chris and back again, something else began to trouble him. At first, he thought it might be because of the initial connection the girl had opened between them all. It didn’t make sense to feel it now. It was broken. And yet the more he dwelled on that rush, the more he realized he felt a deep sense of connection and love for both of them. And I can’t believe I met someone who’s just like me, he thought. She’s Mexican too. She’s had to run, and hide who she is. She has powers. She understands me…

Chapter Text

The next week flew by rather quickly for the two boys. The Reynolds had returned home that Tuesday, and Daniel made sure the living room was spotless for their arrival. Together, they had washed the mirror in the upstairs tub, vacuumed, and set everything back in its place. But despite the relative return to normalcy and the constant routines of school, neither of them could stop thinking about their unique experiences with Catalina. There was a lot to get off their chests.

And so that weekend, the two decided to spend a much needed night in the tree house to get away, as it seemed like a more secure location than most to discuss secret matters. Chris’s father had built them a pulley rig system with a flat board some time ago, which they’d never made use of. It came in handy for lifting a few small items up to the fortress that they couldn’t otherwise carry—sleeping bags, lanterns, a propane space heater, snacks.

The weather that night was cold, though not too frigid. Daniel rubbed his hands together and blew into them as they each got situated with the lanterns and Chock-O-Crisps, and most importantly, Power Bear energy drinks. They would need it to stay awake for the conversations ahead.

“Pretty chilly,” Daniel said. “Thank god we have portable heat this time. Me and Sean could’ve used one of these back in the day.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied, powering on the propane unit. “You warm enough?”

“I’m sure I will be,” Daniel smiled. Chris scooted back to sit next to him and rested his head on his shoulder with a sigh of contentment as they pulled up the blankets. From up here, they could make out a sea of stars shining down just over the pines in the distance. It reminded Daniel of his many adventures on the road with his brother. Even though they had feared for their lives and often worried where their next shelter might be, he couldn’t deny there were nights he enjoyed watching the night sky. It made him feel nostalgic. ‘Like ancient times, but it never gets old,’ Stanley used to say. The boy laid a tender arm around Chris, who nuzzled his head against his neck. The brush of his fading, now pinkish-colored hair felt nice.

“Mmm. You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Chris said, running a thumb over his cheek. “Even when I think of you, I get warm inside.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” the boy grinned. “You have this pretty, soft golden skin. Messy hair. Firey, charcoal eyes,” he smiled.

“You make me sound like a barbecue grill!” Daniel laughed, but stopped himself. “Sorry.” He planted a kiss on the boy’s temple. “I know what you meant. You’re sweet.” His hand ventured upward, fingers aimlessly running through Chris’s hair. “And I kinda like your natural blond color better. Like, the streaks are cool. You can still be Captain Spirit, just…keep some of your normal hair? I like being reminded of when I first met you.”

“Don’t worry,” Chris smirked. “Doing my whole head was a mistake.” He took Daniel’s left hand, intertwining their fingers. “What else do you like about me?”

“You have really pretty blue eyes,” Daniel smiled. “And you’re pale, but it’s cute.”

“I’m pasty white!” Chris laughed.

“Yeah, but…you make me feel warm inside too.” Daniel scooted down on his back for the boy to rest his head on his chest.

“How?” Chris wondered, still playing with his hand. “I’m like, Scandinavian as fuck,” he chuckled. “We’re…winter people, mostly.”

“It’s hard to explain. We met in the winter, so…I guess you remind me of being home, in a way. Cuddling up near a warm fireplace. And when it’s cold out, your cheeks get a little pink. I don’t know. I just like it. Reminds me of Christmas. And gingerbread cookies,” he giggled. “And you always look like you need a hot chocolate.”

“I can’t wait to pick out a tree with you again,” Chris smiled. “Maybe we’ll make little gingerbread houses.”

“Hmm, that’d be fun,” Daniel smiled back.

The thought of spending the holidays with his boyfriend always filled him with joy and warmth. The only thing he wasn’t excited about was going caroling with Claire again, as she always tried to make him do. Might be fun though if he comes along. He thought, too, about what Catalina was doing for Christmas—if her family even celebrated it. Maybe we can have her over for a bit on Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t mind doing holiday things with her either. Seems like she needs it. He felt guilty for even considering it as Chris lay there in his arms, telling him everything he loved about him.

Because—though Daniel hated to admit it—the truth was that his feelings for Catalina had grown far more complex than mere holiday plans. And deep down, he’d known it for a while. Whatever she had done on Dia de los Muertos, it had only brought him closer to certain truths. Especially the most uncomfortable one. Okay. Time to stop being a pussy and get it out.

“Hey Chris?”

“Mmm what?

“What do you think of Cat?” A nervous feeling gripped him in the stomach when he said her name.

“She’s cool,” Chris replied. “I mean…if I have to be honest? I still don’t know what to think about what happened. Now that I’ve had some time this week…it kinda freaks me out more than I thought it would. Like not in a bad way necessarily, but. Damn,” he breathed.

“Yeah…”

“But…I do think she’s a good friend.”

“Oh,” the boy hesitated a moment. “…Okay.”

“Why?”

“Just sorta wondering,” he shrugged. “No reason.” That’s a lie and you know it. Daniel took a deep breath and unhooked his arm from around Chris. That nauseous, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach was quickly working its way toward his chest. His throat ached. He had to move. Chris got up from him as the boy rolled over on his side, facing away.

“Hey, you okay?”

Daniel couldn’t answer. His heart was pounding too hard. He pushed himself up from the wooden planks and stepped to his feet. It was getting hard to breathe, and he needed air. The boy lumbered over to the guardrail that afforded a view of the property fence between both of their yards. There, he looked out on Evergreen Street with a labored sigh. Suddenly, he felt like crying.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know…I just…I feel like nothing’s the same anymore,” Daniel choked up. “That…what she did? Seeing my dad, coming back, all the things I felt…”

“I think I know what you mean,” Chris said, joining him. “It’s a lot for me to process too.” He went to place his hand on Daniel’s, but something about it no longer felt right. The boy jerked his arm away.

“I don’t think you don’t get it,” the boy sniffled. “She did something, Chris. And it changes everything…” Daniel brushed past him and crouched down, burying his face in his hands.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Chris knelt on the floor with him.

“I…I can’t tell you,” Daniel whimpered, the warmth of tears and snot coating his face. He wiped his nose with his sweatshirt sleeve. No going back now. Not ever. His heart was thudding in his chest. It ached so bad, he wished it would just explode already. Give the entire treehouse a new paint job in blood red, and that would be the end of the great Super Wolf. It was certainly easier than facing whatever this was. I told him I didn’t like her. I told him!

“Daniel, whatever it is, I’m here man,” Chris put a hand on his shoulder. “I love you,” he said, starting to cry too. “Please just look at me?”

“You wanted to stay!” he blurted out as he faced him. “Right? Don’t tell me you didn’t! You were happy with your mom wherever you were, Chris! M-Maybe I should’ve just-”

“No!” the boy cut him off. “Oh god, did you think I wanted to leave you?” he panicked.

“I-I don’t know!” he stammered. “I just want you to be happy. And safe. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“I am happy and safe! I’m still with you, right? I’m not going anywhere. Please don’t be upset,” Chris said shakily.

 “But…there’s something else, isn’t there…” Daniel wept, sinking his head again. “I…she…” Something inside him was rupturing. He could feel it, like two threads of a rope twisting in knots wound too tight. It wanted to come out. To snap. To burst out of him like an alien xenomorph. “I-I do love you!” he exclaimed. “But, I think…I think I might love her too...” Chris stumbled backward in shock. Oh no. What have I done. “And I k-keep,” Daniel heaved, feeling sick, “I keep thinking…a-about all these things! The vision I had of her, dead! The things she knows…you. Even that weird butterfly we saw. And when she connected with me, I-”

“STOP!” Chris roared, balling his fists. “Don’t you fucking dare tell me you’ve lied to me about her all this time!”

“I haven’t, I swear! I just…when she showed up, I was too scared to think about things,” he said with new determination. “Look, I’ve always felt alone in a way, okay?”

“Yeah, so have I!”

“No matter what I tried to do, it didn’t change that!” he continued, rising back to his feet and pacing. “And I thought it would. Especially being with you. Because until now, I’ve been the only one who could do these things! And it was lonely, and scary, and I couldn’t tell anyone without feeling like a freak. I was always taught to be ashamed of it! That using my powers was a bad thing, that I couldn’t share it with anyone else, when it’s a part of who I-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Chris cut him off, leaping to his feet. “You know you can always share that stuff with me. I never once judged you for anything Daniel, I’ve kept all your secrets! And you’ve kept mine. Isn’t that enough?”

“I know…it should be. But I’ve also made you feel inferior sometimes, and I don’t want you feel that way, I really don’t! Or put you in danger. It’s just…she came into our lives, and it’s like suddenly I felt different. Understood-”

“Oh shut up!”

“She’s Mexican like me, okay?! She has powers, she knows what it’s like to be scared of hurting people, to have to hide-”

“I’ve had to hide too! From my dad, from bullies at school, from…for fuck’s sake Daniel, we’ve had to hide our relationship from your grandparents and my dad! You think that’s easy for me? Or fair?”

“No!”

“But you want to cut me out because that’s easier on you. Fuck…”

“It’s not like that!” the boy whimpered. “I…l-love you both…I think. I-”

Chris lunged forward and pressed his lips to Daniel’s, but the boy quickly shoved him off with his power. He staggered backward, knocking over one of the lanterns as he fell hard against the tree trunk. A look of surprise flashed across his face. Then anger.

“Oh shit! Chris, I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to…”

But it was too late. The blond boy whirled around and huffed with his back turned, trying his best to stay calm.

“Yes,” he panted quietly. He sounded nine years old again. He felt nine years old again. Like his father had just given him a fake apology after blaming him for his mother’s death, and he had run for the tree house. “Yes you did! Jesus, you’re such an asshole!”

“Chris…listen, you just…you can’t go kissing me when-”

“When WHAT!”

“I don’t know! I just…look, maybe we both need some time to figure shit out.” Daniel heard him let out a long exhale, as if in thought before he crossed his arms and turned back to face him. A sudden smirk came over the boy’s face. An almost evil look, one he’d never seen from his friend before. It unsettled him.

“You know…I’ve talked to Sean.”

Daniel gasped, then grit his teeth. For a moment, he felt his heart stop dead in its tracks. Then he stepped forward. An immediate rage had set his blood aflame at the mention of his brother. He was pissed.

“What…”                  

“Yeah.”

The boy took another step, allowing the fire to take hold of him. His palms slowly opened. His eyes turned to embers.  

“You better choose your next words very carefully Chris,” he snarled.

“Look, it was only a couple times-”

The boy outstretched his hand. Chris’s body immediately went rigid. In his grasp, Daniel could feel his heart pounding—even sense the warmth of blood as it rushed to the surface of his skin, which had never happened before. His cheeks flushed red in the dim light of the overturned lantern. But Daniel wasn’t reminded of anything good anymore. All he saw before him in that moment was betrayal. And for a sick, sad second that made him hate himself, he relished the look of sheer terror it produced.

“What did he SAY?!” Daniel bit.

“Please don’t do this…” Chris begged, trembling in fear. He couldn’t move. Daniel racked his skull with as light a pressure as he could muster. A trail of blood dripped from one side of the boy’s nose.

“I want answers, asshole! I’ll do what I have to to get them.”

“He w-wants to keep you safe. That’s all, I swear!” Chris whimpered. “Th-That’s why he hasn’t talked.”

“And why would he talk to you?”   

“I don’t know!” his voice cracked. “He just wanted to know you’re okay…that’s it. Please let me go, please…Daniel, I…I love you!”

The boy released his grip. Chris slumped to his knees in tears. For a moment, the petrified blond reached out to grab him. Reached for comfort, reached for forgiveness. But Daniel stepped back, and that desperate hand fell with a satisfying smack on the wooden floor of the tree house as his legs gave way. With Chris now stumbled over in defeat, Daniel turned his back. He felt the tears grow cold on his cheeks. He felt bad. Ashamed, even. He shouldn’t have done that. He knew better.

But talking to his own brother behind his back…that was something he could not forgive.

“We’re done, Chris. It’s over. And I hate you BOTH!” Daniel spat, bounding for the exit. As he climbed down those fragile wooden rungs in record time, he heard the young boy call out his name from above. Begging for him to stay, begging to talk it out. But there was no more to discuss. He had committed the unforgivable sin. For better or worse, he was on his own now. Once Daniel’s feet hit the frosted ground, he charged off through the gap in the fence that separated their lives, lost in a never-ending loop of racing thoughts and questions. How the fuck could Chris do that to me! How could Sean? Why!

To remind his now ex-boyfriend just how pissed he was, he whirled around and reached out with his power, focusing on the tree. One by one, the wooden rungs leading up to the tree house broke off and fell to the ground with a plunk, plunk, plunk. He snapped the rope on the pulley system for good measure, sending it crashing down hard onto the roots.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Chris shouted. “How am I supposed to get down?!”

“Figure it out, asshole!” Daniel huffed. He stormed through the shadow-drenched back yard and over to the porch, where he tore open the glass door. Once inside, he slammed it shut. Despite the heat emanating from the crackling fireplace, it didn’t feel any warmer in the house. In fact, it felt colder. Empty. Barren. Like a place that love once burned bright, only to be extinguished. It felt like the ruins of Arcadia Bay. It felt like death. Startled, Claire and Stephen rushed out of the dining room.

“Good heavens!” the old woman exclaimed. “What on Earth…Daniel?”

“Do you mind telling us what the hell is going on, young man?!”

“Just leave me ALONE!” the boy yelled, nearly tripping over his terrified dog as he stomped up to his room in a daze.

He was beginning to feel outside himself. That this all might not even be real, that somehow whatever had just happened wasn’t true, that maybe it was just some cruel side effect of twisting dimensions crashing into and merging with one another because of what Catalina had done. But the more Daniel dwelled on all the things that had led him to Beaver Creek, the more it all seemed to make perfect sense. Do I really belong here? He wondered. I don’t deserve it. And what I just did proves it. He shut his—Karen’s—bedroom door behind him and sunk down with his back against it, burying his face in his hands. As if by an even stranger sense of irony, a voice spoke from across the room that sounded like his own, but younger.

“Wow. That was pretty dick of you.” El Lobo. Daniel looked up and smirked at the skull-faced child sitting on the edge of his bed.

“What the hell do you want, Miguel Rivera?” he mocked.

“You don’t get what just happened, do you?” the boy glared at him.

“I’m kinda not in the mood for advice from a ten year-old right now.”

“I’m eleven!” he frowned. Amazing how he still fits in those patched jeans. “And I’m not some random kid. I’m YOU, estupido!”

“You’re not me,” Daniel scoffed, resting his elbows on his knees. “You wouldn’t last a day in my shoes.”

“You wouldn’t last an hour in mine!”

“Pretty sure I could. I’m a teenager now.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” the young wolf smirked. “Did you forget what it was like on the streets? You barely even use your powers now. You’re weak. Maybe you should come to my world so you can see how hard it really gets.”

“Hard pass,” Daniel replied. “You already showed me once. That was enough. Trust me, it’s not much better on my end. Sean might as well be dead to me, too.” El Lobo looked at him with surprising sympathy and sighed, plodding over to join him against the closed door.  “So?” Daniel shrugged. “It’s been a while. I know you’re here for some reason. Spill.”

“Look, you might not want to hear this right now, but…it wasn’t Chris’s fault, dude.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Daniel breathed.

“So why punish him like that? He doesn’t deserve it! Not in your world.”

“Yes he does! He made his choice, and he’s an asshole.”

“Fine,” El Lobo breathed. “But you're forgetting something that happened right here in this house. Take my hand,” he insisted, setting an open palm on the boy’s knee.

“Why?”

“Just do it, pussy! I want to show you something. Won’t hurt, I swear.”

“Fine, whatever.” Daniel reluctantly took the ghost child’s hand. Suddenly, several blurry apparitions burst out from the shadows on the walls and appeared in front of them in the form of swirling, smokey movements. It was hard to make out exactly who they all were, until he heard their voices. Shit. I remember this. Echoed yelling bounced off the walls of the pinstripe blue bedroom, slowly coalescing into clear conversation.

“Daniel just wanted to see the room.”

“Yeah, I did!”

“Sean, don’t shift the blame to your brother! You’re supposed to be the adult!"

“Claire, please! Calm down.”

“No, Stephen! They went way out of line here. We specifically told you to stay out of this room!”

“I have the RIGHT to see MY mom’s room!”

“This isn’t her room anymore! There’s nothing to see in here. It’s time you learned to respect some rules!”

“Jesus, what’s your problem?!" Sean yelled. "If there’s nothing to see, why lock us out? Or get mad? It’s like you’re in denial. It’s been eight years, Claire! I know Mom left us, and yeah it made me angry too. But at least we’ve moved on.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me, Sean! You don’t know anything about how I feel! And one letter doesn’t change what she did to me. To all of us! She is not welcome back!”

Daniel let go. The apparitions disappeared in a haze of smoke, as quickly as they had come. He looked over to El Lobo, who gazed back at him with raised eyebrows. It didn’t take long for the boy to figure out what he meant.

“Okay, yeah,” he sighed. “Mom did something unforgivable to Claire, and you’re saying me being mad at Chris is like her being mad at Mom. But come on, he went behind my back, dude! To talk to my…our…brother! I’m supposed to just let that shit slide?”

“Depends," El Lobo shrugged. "Who are you really mad at?”

“Both of them!"

“No way, Jose. You’re just mad at yourself ‘cause you still care,” the child said, resting his weary head on his shoulder. “Look, I can’t tell you what to do. This is your world, so it's your choice. All I know is that in mine, staying angry just made things worse. And for what it’s worth, I really don’t think Chris meant to hurt you like that. He was just upset. If it were me? I wouldn’t be upset at him for long. He needs you, dude. Before he goes off the fucking edge! Like he did when…I wasn't around anymore," the boy said sadly. "I don’t know. You remember that letter Sean wrote to Grandpa?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“He was gonna sacrifice himself to protect you, like he’s always done. Even if it meant not being with you anymore. He already felt like a monster, right? So he didn’t want you to grow up exposed to any more of the bad things he did.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I’m saying, Chris wouldn’t lie to you. You know Sean told him not to tell you they talked because some shit’s probably going down. Don’t make the same mistakes my brother and I did, or you’ll hate yourself for losing people.”

“Right,” Daniel sighed. “So…how do I fix this?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Things with Chris will take time, but either way…it’s a good bet Sean’s in trouble. Look…I don’t know what he’s doing in Mexico, because he’s not alive in my world. But that guy who attacked Chris last year? I’m sure it wasn’t some random thing. So if you want to find out what’s going on with Sean…maybe Catalina can help.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s going to make things so much better with Chris,” Daniel rolled his eyes. “No offense, but I kinda don’t care what Sean’s doing. Not sure I want to know.”

“Of course you do. You love him. And you know you have to fix things at home before you can fix it anywhere else. Ese siempre ha sido el caso, si?"

Daniel paused as if he'd been punched in the gut. He was right, of course. The wolf child was always right. In many ways, he seemed to know Daniel better than he knew himself.

"I just need time," the boy finally said.

“Just be careful, okay? For both of us. And whatever happens…don’t cut off the people you love like I did.”

Daniel thought for a moment. He considered the scene from his past he’d just witnessed, this time as an observer. For most of his childhood, he’d been told by Sean how bad their mother was. Then he’d heard it from Claire. ‘She left all of us’ the woman had said. Then, one unexpected afternoon at Haven Point, she had shown up out of the blue to rescue him. It wasn’t that Karen never cared for her sons. She was just…different, and it seemed the rest of the family had closed themselves off from her for running away. But now, Daniel knew exactly why she had, and that understanding was valuable.

He thought about himself, too. How different he was, and how much harder life might be for him if those he loved had shut him out. He didn’t want to keep doing that to anyone he cared about, either. After all, ‘an eye for an eye’ had never worked out in his favor. Or Sean’s. People had to learn from their mistakes and remain open, or else they’d keep making the same ones in an endless cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth. Maybe that’s why it was good Catalina had shown up in his life. Not as some harbinger of death as she believed herself to be, but as someone who might help break the cycle. And much as he hated it…maybe the annoying little wolf kid had a point.

“Hey, El Lobo?” Daniel said, turning to his left. But the ghost had already vanished. He smiled as he looked off toward the shadows, and those cheesy glow-in-the-dark stars he’d placed on the ceiling back when he'd first arrived. “Thank you.”

A sudden vibration in his pocket startled him. Weird, he thought. It was 10pm. Who would be calling me at this time? He dug it out and checked the number. ‘Unknown Caller’. With all the weird things that had happened over the past week, he was almost inclined to believe it was some sort of sign. At best, it would be Sean. At worst, it would be Chris masking his number. How ironic would that be. He took a deep breath and tapped the green button, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey…Daniel, honey, is that you? Hello?”

Karen.

The boy gasped. His throat locked up. Every muscle in his body tensed. Every prior thought he’d had went completely out the window. He bit his lip. A sudden rage overcame him at the sound of her voice as he shook in the darkness and set a hand over his mouth to muffle his erratic breathing.

Because all he could think of when he heard her now was the sting of betrayal he'd felt that past summer, in which he'd learned the most painful secret of his life.

All he could think about was Project Havenwolf.

“Daniel? Are you there?”

He hung up, dropped the phone to the floor, and wept.

Chapter Text

November 16, 2021 - Nogales, Mexico

Sean sighed and checked his phone again while Finn had a cigarette. The two had been waiting on the third level of a parking garage in downtown Nogales for the past fifteen minutes. Agent Parker still hadn’t shown. Neither for that matter had Flores, although she wasn’t in Mexico on business anyway. The young man paced around, grabbing a cigarette of his own from the pack that lay on the back trunk. His eye itched. It always did when he was doing something uncomfortable. Coming up all this way from Puerto Lobos was far too risky for a car they’d just end up stripping anyway. But it was worth it to be able to drive a genuine red 1973 Mustang—even just once. Man. Dad would’ve loved this thing.

“Think this old dog’s gonna show?” Finn asked, tossing his butte aside into a puddle.

“Yeah,” Sean replied. “I trust him.”

“Ain’t the federales always punctual? Look, I’m not trying to make you panic or nothin’, I’m just sayin’. I been stung before. That’s how my daddy got caught.”

“Eh, I don’t think they’d start by telling us everything they knew first,” Sean smirked, taking a drag. “He seems legit. And Flores wants to help. Trust me, I don’t like it either. But if it gets Garcia off our backs and keeps Daniel safe, then…that’s all I care about.”

“Whew, man!” Finn grinned. “Look at us, bein’ all covert and shit! Out here in a densely populated city crawling with Mexican popos while we meet an FBI agent, riding around in a stolen good ol’ American muscle car that sticks out like a sore thumb-”

“Yeah okay, you got me,” Sean laughed. “But come on dude, it’s a fucking ’73 Mustang! Don’t tell me you’d pass up the opportunity to drive this thing either.”

“For a four-hour drive back to Puerto Lobos?” Finn whistled. “You got some cojones brother, I’ll give ya that.”

“I seem to recall you liking that about me.”

“Oh I do sweetie,” the dreaded man smiled, embracing Sean as he kissed him. “Just promise me them things don’t get so big that you pull another bender and get lost again.”

“Yeah,” Sean breathed. Two weeks had passed since the beach incident. It still tore him up inside. “I’m…sorry.”

“Eh, it’s all right laddie,” Finn squeezed his shoulder. “Just don’t forget I’m here, okay?” he kissed his forehead. “Always.”

“I know. Me too.” The two heard a car approaching from down the ramp. Sean glanced up to see a black BMW pulling up alongside them. “Shit, I think that’s him…” The tinted window lowered to reveal an older man with gray crewcut hair and sunglasses. Agent Parker. “Yup.”

“Hey,” the man smiled as they approached. “You boys feel like going for a ride in something less uh… conspicuous?”

“Dude. It’s a Mustang!” Sean grinned.

“You’re a real dumbass, you know that? I just ran the plates. Feds are looking for it. You’re out of your mind if you think you can drive that thing back home!”

“I-I mean, we were about to change the plates,” the young man cleared his throat. Parker lowered his sunglasses and raised an eyebrow. “Sir.”

“In a parking garage. Really? There’s cameras everywhere. You know that, right? Please tell me you know that.”

“Uh…w-well, there’s cars parked on either side of us, so-”

“That’s why you reverse into the space so the back’s against the wall,” Parker grit his teeth. “I mean not that it matters, since there’s definitely cameras at the entrance of the garage. Whatever. Come on, hop in.”

“B-But-”

“I’m serious, get in!”

Sean sighed and gazed mournfully back at the stolen car, then at Finn, who gave him the classic ‘I told you so’ look.

“Yeah,” the young man rolled his eyes and turned to Parker. “You’re probably right.” He shot Finn a sad look as he opened the back door and climbed into a shiny black, all-leather interior. It certainly wasn’t as nice as the red he’d just been forced to abandon, but still expensive. This thing looks like it’s had a few upgrades. Wonder how much it would sell for on the black market. Finn climbed in aside him and shut the door as Parker proceeded up the ramp, then made a sharp U-turn at the end to head back down to the street. Sean leaned his head against the window and tried not to think about how they might get home later. Or explain the loss of a valuable vehicle to Gilberto.

“You all good, sweetie?”

“Hell no, but I’ll get over it.”

“Man, I feel ya,” Finn held his hand. “As always. But things’ll work out.”

Sean jerked away. Not that he meant to. Sometimes, he was just too nervous for comfort. Especially over the past couple weeks. But worrying his partner might take offense, he settled for patting his leg instead. Damn, I hate being so on edge.

“So you still haven’t told us why you wanted to meet,” Sean deflected, addressing Parker. The man glanced back at the two boys in his rearview mirror and smiled. Does he have to do that every time he drops some secret bomb? Shit creeps me out.

“You guys ever been part of a sting operation? And I don’t mean on the receiving end.”

“No…fuck!” Sean breathed. His anxiety suddenly got worse. The drinking he’d done over the course of the last two weeks probably didn’t help matters. His body was screaming for a shot. At least Finn seemed excited. Good for him. I’m just so sick of having eyes on me twenty-four seven. How the hell is this supposed to help us? Wish I could jump out of this car right now.

“Whoo, called it!” Finn laughed. “What’d I tell ya, Seany boy? We are badass outlaws!”

“Yeah, glad you’re having fun! I’m not.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Parker said with encouragement, “you do get to drive the Mustang home. Not that particular one, obviously, but. A Mustang. Looks pretty identical.”

Sean’s ears perked up.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

The old man made a right after exiting the parking garage and proceeded onto the main street.

It was midday, and the sun shone in bright golden hues over the traffic jams of the downtown urban landscape. Sean always felt a residual pain in his left socket every time his good eye had to adjust to a sudden change in light. It gave him a headache every time. Over the years, he’d hoped it might resolve itself. So far, no luck. Daniel thought it was all his fault. In reality, he blamed the beatings he’d suffered from Chad and Nicholas. They’d gone right for the weak spot, which had ensured another month of healing time. Hope they’re both dead by now. Fucking cowards.

“Dude, you got any Advil on you?” he asked Finn, wincing in pain as he covered his eyes.

“Shit!” the hippie said, feeling up his pockets. “Uh…think I left it back in the ‘Stang.”

“Great.”

“Here,” Parker said, tossing him back a small yellow box from the center console. “Always keep a basic survival kit on me.”

“Advil’s in your survival kit?” Sean smirked. He poured out a couple tabs while Finn passed him the flask of vodka he kept on him.

“Well, when you have to engage in social drinking to extort valuable info on a regular basis, it does come in handy for the next morning,” the man chuckled. “Plus at my age, a lot of things give me a headache. Like Flores and Agent Michaels. Or being stuck in Mexico with you two.”

“Este cerdo Americano habla mucha mierda,” Sean muttered.

“Not as much as you,” Parker replied. The boy choked in surprise, spraying the back of his seat with vodka.  

“F-Fuck, my throat burns!” he laughed, hacking up a storm. His skull throbbed.

“You know what they say about assumptions,” the old man said. “Come on, you really thought I’m not trained in Spanish? I understand every goddamn word from the locals down here. Not many have the nicest things to say about me within earshot, let me tell you.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Maybe don’t dress like such a tourist! Or an FBI agent.”

“Right?” Finn chuckled. “Shit, he looks like one of the Men in Black!”

“Okay, in my defense, covert missions aren’t exactly my thing yet,” the man explained. “That was my…younger brother’s thing.”

“Yeah? What happened to him?” Sean asked.

“He, uh…” Parker cleared his throat. “He died. I just found out last summer.”

“Fuck, dude. I’m…sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

The rest of the car ride was marked by an uneasy silence. On the way to their mystery destination, Sean found his thoughts wandering back to Daniel. It was good to have heard at their last meeting that he and Chris were doing okay, for the most part. But something about the brief phone call he’d shared with his brother’s best friend convinced him they could once again be in danger he couldn’t help with. And it was all because of him. God, it’s my fault. What if something happens to Daniel? Or our family…I’d never forgive myself.

 He’d felt racked by guilt for the past several weeks after once again destroying his phone. That little conversation, he knew, would cost him at some point. Smart move Sean, using the same phone Rico gave you for our ‘business deals’. The way Chris talked made it sound like they were onto him. But nothing had happened so far. Not yet, anyway. And Sean had to wonder just how long it would be before the feds were able to track down Gilberto’s daughter in the States, whoever she was. He’d wanted to ask Chris if he knew her, but they never got that far. Now it was a dead end. Like the rest of life, it seemed.

I just hope these fucking feds aren’t too late…never thought I’d say that. Sounds so wrong to want an innocent Mexican captured and deported. But better that than her dad’s goons coming after me or my family…right?

*          *          *

Sean’s heart sunk when Agent Parker pulled into an alley next to another parking garage that seemed all too familiar to him. He couldn’t place how at first, but something about it gave him the creeps. Once the yellow bar raised at the entrance for them to move through, he felt like he’d been shot in the chest. It all came rushing back. Four years ago. This is where it all started. All I wanted was Daniel’s shit back. It ended with me murdering three guys on the roof. I just…needed to feel like he was close to me. That all this shit wasn’t for nothing. That everything I’ve done…

Finn grabbed his hand and squeezed, and Sean squeezed back. His heart was pounding in his chest on the drive up. A cold sweat followed as tears streamed down his tender golden cheeks, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. He couldn’t. He was somewhere else. Every emotion he’d felt on that fated day flashed anew across his young mind, along with every action he'd taken.

I try to drive up, but I can’t. The clearance is too low. I get back in the truck, and I see bullets laying around everywhere in the center console and glove box. Then I find the gun. Silver .45 calibre, under the passenger seat. I head for the stairwell and run up. Cops are already in the alley below. I think about being a hero, like Perion from Chronicles of the Basilisk. I see Lyla in my head, laughing, skating up the bowl. She's so far away now. I make it to the top and rush through the door. I sneak around the back of some cars next to the wall. I see my car switching hands. I-

“Sean, you all right?” Parker gave him an odd look in the rearview mirror.

“I can’t go up there!” he panicked. A cold sweat overtook him. “I can’t!” But they’d already come out on the deck, heading down the same section of lot.

“Sean! Sweetie, look at me,” Finn insisted, holding him steady. “What’s going on?” Parker quickly pulled into the nearest spot and cut the engine.

“You ever seen him like this before?” the man asked.

“Nah…not since a few weeks ago, but…he was kinda drunk then.”

“I killed them!” Sean gasped. “There’s b-blood everywhere, all over the…” he stopped a moment and took a deep breath. Calm down, dude. That was four years ago. You know it was. Chill the fuck out. “I just…I-I think I need some air….” he breathed, opening the door and stumbling out of the car.

He managed several steps before his legs gave out. His knees hit the concrete hard. He fell forward on his hands, still alternating between ragged gasps and deep breaths. He looked up, reconstructing the entire scene in his mind. From the moment he emerged onto the parking deck, taking out the man standing at the back of the truck with a shot to the neck. Then he’d hit the other in the kneecap, and finally, there was the driver he’d shot in the face. Gilberto’s laugh haunted him though all of it. All the way to the red Volkswagen Jetta he’d stolen, and later abandoned at some dive motel.

Then his mind went blank. Because of the anxiety, or the pressure in his skull. He couldn’t be sure which. All he remembered was the concrete he now stood on, and the splatters of blood he’d left behind. It was easy to forget how much time had passed. Out on the road, such things wouldn’t have been committed to vivid memory. Everything always felt so far away as the months and seasons passed. But ever since he’d arrived in Mexico, it seemed like just yesterday when it had all gone to shit. If only I would’ve, I should’ve, I could’ve. There were always more things to blame, more regrets mounting.

“Hey buddy,” Finn called, kneeling down aside him. “You okay? Sorry…guess that’s a stupid question.”

Sean reared back on his knees and took a deep breath. His pulse had slowed.

“Finn,” he sighed, draping an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Finn, I…fuck," he breathed, steadying himself.

"You can talk to me, brother. I got you."

"Okay..." Sean nodded. "All right. I guess...ever since I came to Mexico, I kept wondering when I’d be able to start living for myself. Because Daniel wasn’t with me, and…everything I did, I did for us, ya know?” the young man sniffled. “He always came first. Always. And since he’s been gone, I…just kept doing more fucked up shit to survive…b-because that’s all I knew,” he trembled. “And it’s not like he was around to see it. Or to help me, um…stay sane." Finn squeezed his shoulder. "After I ran out of cash and my mom’s car took a shit, I sorta…got desperate. I slept in churches, alleys, I slept on the streets or wherever else I could. I drank at bars for a while until I couldn’t feel shit anymore. Then I ended up doing…things…with men who’d pick me up or want to meet somewhere.”

“Shit,” Finn whispered. “Brother, I am so sorry…”

“I, uh…I stole some cash from altar boxes to pay for rooms. One of the guys I stayed with, he owed money to the cartel, so he’d charge people for rent. A couple weeks later, they sent some men to the apartment to get him. Caught me going out when he wasn’t home. I told them where he was,” Sean chuckled nervously. “They got him, I beat him up, and...that was my ticket in. I spent some time running drugs around Nogales. Then one day while I was on a run…fuckers stole my car,” he frowned. “With Daniel’s shit still in it. And you know…no one touches my brother’s shit!” he spat. “No one.”

“What happened next?”

“I followed them,” he said coldly. “Here…to this rooftop,” the young man glanced around. “And I did the one thing I swore I would never do,” he nodded. “Something came over me, and I just…I murdered them, Finn! Over a fucking child’s toys! But Gilberto, oh no, that asshole was impressed. Said it was the ‘cost of doing business’, whatever the hell that means. Hired me to chat up chicks he wanted to traffic. Guess I should count myself lucky that the first one I ran into was Mindi. I did rescue her. Even if she pulled some theatrical stunt, so...maybe that counts. She left me with her dad's money. After that, I was free for a couple years until the cartel caught up with me. You pretty much know the rest. And all this was because…who fucking knows anymore!”

Finn embraced him tight as he wept into his partner’s shoulder. On many days, Sean felt the strength bleeding out of him, just as he’d bled the life from those men on the rooftop. Or at least he felt that way whenever the guilt managed to catch up with him. On other days, it seemed his anger was the only thing that kept him going. Like some odd substitute in his life for Daniel’s power. Because at least when his brother was around, he felt he had something to work towards. Someone else to care for, someone to temper—as long as he didn’t have to focus on facing himself. That boy’s power, for better or worse, had been the one thing keeping him inspired to do what was right, that kept them both going. Now, Sean was the one who needed a reminder of the rules, before he self-destructed any further. He had, at some point, started doing exactly what he’d instructed his brother not to. Without Daniel watching, it was all too easy to fall into that trap. And he’d so far been falling into it for years.

Something Charles had said to him came to mind for whatever reason. He’d thought of it for the first time when he’d called Chris, and up until now, it had sloshed around in his alcohol-saturated mind only to be forgotten. ‘I can’t let pain define who I am. Everyone has to go through some shit.’  

“Whew,” the young man breathed, feeling the lingering weight slip off his chest. Finn had been holding him tight for several minutes now. “Okay,” he smiled, hugging him back. “I think I feel better.” The dreaded hippie pulled back and looked him in the eye.

“Dude, you ain’t never told me any of that stuff.”

“First time I ever told anyone,” Sean smirked, wiping the tears from his face. “I know I…have to do better at letting you in. And I swear to you, I will.”  

“Shut up and look at me,” Finn smiled and held his face in his hands as Sean gazed back in those crystal blue eyes of his. “You, Sean Diaz, are the most badass survivor I have ever known! So don’t you fuckin’ dare ever forget that, because I’ll never let y-”

Sean leaned in to cut him off with a long, passionate kiss. He hated taking that man for granted. He hated even more that he’d hurt him by running away, drinking too much, or arguing. And he hated being so impatient. Because it was getting difficult to trust he would ever see Daniel again, and so it had become just as hard to trust anything or anyone else in his life too. Maybe some things aren’t just a means to that end, he thought. That’s how I’ve been treating Finn lately. Still can’t believe he puts up with me. But he’s here to stay. I need to remember that. Even if I never get my brother back…

“Ahem!” Agent Parker barked, startling them both. “Not to interrupt your moment, but we’ve got business to attend to. Come on.”

The two quickly rose to their feet and followed with a spring in their step. Parker led them down past an endless row of modern cars, keeping to the left closest to the wall that overlooked the main street. Sean kept his eyes peeled for an old Mustang anywhere. So far, nothing stood out. Finn pointed to several vehicles similar to ones they had worked on over the past week. Thank god none of them ended up here. Then he saw a flash of shiny red and silver in the distance. The Mustang in question was parked at the very last space, waiting for them.

“Holy shit!” Sean grinned. “You actually weren’t lying.”

“Hell no. I’d lie about a lot of things, but never an American muscle car,” Parker chuckled. “Now before you get to have fun driving this thing,” he smiled, turning to face them, “we need to go over the plan. Now personally, I think this is one of the goddamn stupidest ideas I’ve ever had, because it’s an incredibly long shot. Any number of things could go wrong, but if this car goes exactly where it needs to go, there’s a good chance we can track down Gilberto Garcia’s daughter and put an end to this bullshit.”

“I’m sold,” Sean shrugged.

“Same,” Finn nodded. “Whatcha need us to do, boss?”

“What you guys do best. Drive it down to Puerto Lobos, fill ‘er up with thirty kilos of product, ship it out. Just be incredibly careful when you do,” he emphasized. “We’ve got a GPS and a weight system rig hardwired into the dash, so don't get too creative with your hiding places. You break it, you buy it! Once it leaves your shop, we’ll be able to track it wherever it goes.”

“Thirty kilos, got it. And then what?” Sean asked.

“We’ve got a contact who will make sure it ends up in Beaver Creek,” the man smiled. “Once the VIN is listed online by a used dealer, it shouldn't be long before the rats come sniffing. If that car comes up thirty kilos short, our guys can nab the middleman. That should get Garcia’s attention. After that? We’ll get to his daughter.”

“Woo, sweet!” Finn cheered, hugging the man. “That is a brilliant plan, doc!”

“Please let go of me,” Parker said firmly.

“R-Right, sorry, sorry!” the young man giggled. “Ain’t into the whole peace and love thing, eh?” he winked.

“Look...all due respect, I still don’t trust either of you bums. The Bureau isn’t exactly comfortable working with two boys who have a lengthy rap sheet, not to mention one of them is a wanted fugitive!” he said, glaring at Sean. “Neither am I, for that matter! So let me make myself perfectly clear. The only, and I mean the only reason I’m involving myself in this case at all is because we want this fucker taken down as much as you do. And because it helps me sleep a little better at night knowing Daniel is safe.”

“At least we can both agree on that,” Sean nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Parker-”

“I’m not doing this for you!” the man cut him off sternly. “I’m doing it for him. Your brother's the one who deserves a good life, because it’s pretty clear to me he jumped out of your car for a reason. But you're smart enough to know that. So despite how much I’d love to see you both reunited, because God knows I never got the chance with my own brother…I still don’t personally think you deserve him after all the ways you’ve managed to fuck things up down here.”

“Yeah,” Sean frowned, crossing his arms. “I guess it’s a long road back, huh?”

“It is,” the man said pointedly. “Redemption never comes easy, kid. For anyone. Listen,” he sighed, placing an arm on his shoulder. “I get that you're trying to make amends. I may not like you very much, but that’s one thing I can still respect about you. You have more integrity than most. But keep in mind that even after we seal the case file on this, you'll still have the Policia Federal to deal with. And when that happens? I can’t do shit. Not even as a character witness. You might be granted immunity for testifying, but it's-”

“Out of your hands, I know," Sean rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I think about it every day. And I know I can’t keep seeing myself as a victim in Mexico. Especially not after all I've done. So if I have to answer for my crimes here, so be it. But I’m never going back to the States, Parker. Not with you, not with anyone. The cops, the American justice system...they failed my family.”

Parker looked at him with sympathy.

“I know, kid. And I don’t blame you worth a damn for that,” he said. "For what it's worth...Flores wanted you to know this is about us making amends too." He handed over the keys to the Mustang. "So you think you can trust me until this is all over?"

"Well," Sean thought, gazing longingly back at the car. "I mean, if you can ship this sweet-ass car back to me when you're done with it, that'd be a start," he smirked. "Think I deserve some reparations."

“No promises, but I can try," Parker laughed, slipping on his sunglasses. "Now...you boys better get the hell outta dodge before someone sees us. I’ll be in touch once the shipment is on its way to Beaver Creek. We’ll take things from there.”

“Sounds good,” Sean grinned.

He didn’t bother to watch the man walk away. Seconds later, he and Finn were strapped in with the radio on, blasting "Barracuda" by Heart. Sean gave his partner another long kiss as he revved the sweet V8 engine a few seconds. Then he slammed it into drive and floored the gas. With a screech of tires, the two lovers skirted happily out of the parking garage, leaving a trail of smoke and burnt rubber behind them.  

Chapter Text

Daniel felt sick. For two days, he had stayed home from school because he couldn’t stop feeling nauseous. Whatever food he ate, he threw up. And his chest was beginning to hurt at random times. Especially after he’d made the mistake of checking up on Chris’s social media, only to be smacked with ‘this profile doesn’t exist’ or ‘oops! something went wrong’. It only made him more anxious to return to class. No shit something went wrong, the boy thought, aimlessly spooning his bowl of oatmeal at the kitchen counter. Maybe it was my fault, but he didn’t have to block me. Or keep it a secret he was talking to Sean this whole time! Asshole.

“Ugh,” he sighed, setting his phone face down on the counter. His thoughts were a mess, and he already felt his stomach rippling. “I’m not hungry.” That was a lie. Of course he was, but he was too afraid to puke again.

“Sweetie, we’ve been over this,” Claire said sternly. “You’ve got to eat.” His grandmother was hard at work over the stove making breakfast for herself and Stephen. It sucked to be resigned to soft foods with the scents of maple bacon, eggs, and pancakes wafting up from the stove. The young teen closed his eyes a moment to savor it. It almost made him feel full. Sort of. Man, that smells sooo good right now.

“I just can’t keep anything down!” he whined. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Well, if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow, we can always make a doctor’s appointment.”

“Eh, no thanks,” he sighed, reaching for the bottle of Pepto Bismol on the counter. “I kinda hate doctors. Don’t really trust them anyway, with the things I can do. What if they do a blood test and find…something?”

“Daniel,” Claire shook her head, “you already had a blood test when they did your physical a year ago. All they said was that you’re as normal and healthy as can be! Now it might be a stomach bug, but personally, I think you’re just stressed.”

“Stressed?” Daniel raised an eyebrow as he gulped down a dose of Pepto. That didn’t make any sense. He had been plenty stressed before about a lot of things. Running from the cops with his brother, protecting them both, having guns pointed in his face, being shot at, having his sanity almost destroyed by Lisbeth, getting pinned down by officers and shouted at. Things like that made him feel sick and lose his appetite. But losing Chris to some petty drama seemed tame in comparison.

He picked up his phone again. Wonder if he blocked me on Snap.

“I’m sure it’ll run its course. For one, you haven’t come down with a fever. And second, I highly doubt that phone of yours is helping,” Claire frowned, snatching it out of his hand.

“Grandma, come on!”

“Eat the rest of your oatmeal and maybe you can have it back,” she said firmly, tucking the device into her cardigan. “You kids are glued to these things twenty-four seven, that’s half your problem! Now look, I’m going to fix Stephen a plate for his office so he can continue working on those god-forsaken trains of his. Then, you and are going to talk, okay?”

“Ugh, fine,” the boy groaned. He grabbed the newspaper off the edge of the counter so he’d at least have something to read. Not that there was much interesting news coming out of Beaver Creek anyway. The front page story was about preparations for the small Thanksgiving Day parade being set up downtown, along with a Christmas festival for arts and crafts. Daniel felt his stomach churn again. I don’t even want to think about holiday plans right now. Things were supposed to be different. He thumbed through the rest of the pages.

The third one contained a republished article on a situation in Virginia of all places, written by a freelance journalist named Samuel Higgs. The man had made a somewhat national name for himself after writing several scathing pieces, mostly on corruption in small towns. “Head Pharmacist Arrested In Drug Ring,” he read. “Crazy.” Wonder if it has anything to do with Catalina’s dad. He shuddered at the thought before skimming over the rest of it. ‘These shipments often come through Miami and find their way up the East coast.’ Good. We’re on the west. Probably nothing to worry about. By the time he was finished with the article, Claire had returned to the kitchen.

“Good to see you reading the paper for a change,” she remarked. “Anything interesting?”

“Nah. Well, not in Beaver Creek anyways.”

His grandmother chuckled. “It’s true this town isn’t much for news, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, you always tell me,” Daniel smirked, slowly picking at his oatmeal again. He had yet to touch the orange juice she’d set out for him earlier. It had way too much pulp for his liking. Yuck. How do they drink that stuff?

“Listen, Daniel,” Claire said, joining him across the counter. “I know you mentioned that things have been a little rocky…with Chris lately.”

“Ugh, Grandma, I don’t-”

“Now wait a second, just…hear what I have to say, okay?” she said firmly.

“Okay,” the boy sighed.

“I don’t mean to pry into your life,” she assured him. “Believe me, I learned that lesson from your mother. Teenagers want their space, I understand. But if there’s anything you need to talk about, I can certainly always lend an ear.” Claire reached for the orange juice and poured herself a glass.

Daniel took a deep breath and considered. He didn’t often want to talk to her, especially not about aspects of his personal life. At least not anything aside from his powers. But over the years, she seemed to have improved at reading him better and knowing when he wasn’t in the mood. Or when it wasn’t a good idea to—gulp—come barging into his room unannounced. She seemed more respectful these days, and that was a start. Maybe it’d be good to talk?

“I don’t know Grandma, I just…things have been, uh…a little different…between us, as friends.” Daniel’s pulse quickened, his right leg bouncing in nervousness. Shit.

“What do you mean, different?”

“Uhhh…” he shook. “Well, see…we kind of, um…h-have certain feelings…about stuff. Like…each other, and…we’ve been best friends forever, right? But it’s like…sorta different. I-I mean-”

“You love him, don’t you?” Claire said, taking his hand.

“Well duh!” the boy laughed nervously. “He’s my best friend, of course I-”

“Daniel, my orange juice!” she exclaimed.

“Huh?!” the boy looked up to see her glass suddenly levitating in mid-air, about to spill. “Oh crap, sorry!” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm down long enough for her to grab it. Wow, great going dude. You know she hates when you do that in the house. “I-I just…”

 “You were about to spill?” she winked.

“Grandma!” he giggled. Surprisingly, Claire laughed too. “You actually made a joke for once.”

“Hey, I may be old, but I’ve still got a few doozies left in me!” she chuckled. “Oh come here, you,” she smiled warmly, stepping around the counter to embrace him and kiss his cheek. Ugh, gross. “Sweetie, listen. I think you’ve been through enough hardship in your short, young life without having to worry about me judging you for…whoever you might love,” she said. “It’s hardly my place as a grandparent. We’re here to take care of you and love you no matter what choices you make for yourself, so long as they’re good ones. So you always have a home with us, okay?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, relieved. “Thanks, Grandma.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“So…does that mean you knew?”

“Oh, I had a feeling,” she said, returning to her side of the counter. “My hearing may not be the best these days, but I could’ve sworn I’ve heard you two creeping between the rooms upstairs before.”

“Oh…yeah, sorry,” the boy cringed. “Um…are you mad?”

“Well, maybe just a bit irritated,” she said. “Look Daniel, I don’t mind you having company over, whoever it is,” she said. “But doors have to remain open at all times when guests are in the house. That’s my biggest rule, understood?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Daniel sighed. “Don’t worry. Doubt I’ll be having him over anytime soon,” he frowned. “We kinda…broke up, I guess. Over a lot of stuff. I…don’t really wanna talk about it. If that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine. Honey, I’m so sorry,” Claire said. “But…what I will say, if it makes you feel any better, I think you and Chris-”

“Can you not say his name!” Daniel cut her off.

“Of course,” she relented. “What I meant was…you both have shared a very close, wonderful friendship. I doubt you’ll lose that forever. And I’d certainly hate for you to have to throw it away.”

“But I’m not the one throwing it away!” the boy protested, hopping off the stool. Claire seemed taken aback. “He is! Because he’s selfish, and stupid, and he’s a liar, and I hate him!” Daniel shouted. “S-Sorry,” he sniffled. Tears were already streaming down his face. “I just…I need to go for a walk and clear my head.”

“Here,” Claire sighed, handing him back his phone. “Better take it with you, just in case.”

“Thanks…and I, um…I didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know,” the woman nodded knowingly, chin in her palm. “You going with Lucky? She could use the exercise.”

Daniel looked sorrowfully back at his dog, who sat up on the couch with her ears perked up.

“Not this time, girl,” he said sadly. “I just need to be alone right now.”

*          *          *

Chris sat shivering at the kitchen table, palms laid flat on the wooden surface. He could already feel the pools of sticky sweat collecting beneath them. He didn’t want to do it. I can’t. He knew what would happen if he did. He would end up a failure, just like his father. Then who would take care of them both? A shot glass and a bottle of whiskey stood in front of him. He’d been staring at them for the past ten minutes, listening to the clock above the sink ticking away every last fated second until that first sip. Then, he would fall. Only this time, Daniel wouldn’t be there to catch him. Or save him from drowning.

“Fuck it,” he finally said, grabbing the bottle and pouring himself a shot. He made sure to fill it right to the rim. Then he set down the bottle. He stared some more, fingers dancing a hesitant rhythm over the glass. He thought of that last fight in the tree house. He thought of Daniel holding him in his arms one second, then throwing him against the branch the next. That look of pure anger in those flaming charcoal eyes he’d so loved…it had ripped his heart to shreds. This is your fault, asshole. Hope it was worth it.

“It’s just one little shot,” he shuddered. “It’s not gonna hurt me, right?” Not that he cared if he felt anything anymore. “Whatever…here’s to us. The end of Captain Spirit and Super Wolf. Fuck you, Daniel!” He grabbed the glass, tilted his head back, and swallowed the shot whole. An immediate burning sensation engulfed his throat. He choked a moment and coughed hard. “Ah, fuck!” he cringed in pain, shaking his head. “Whew, damn…how the hell do adults drink this crap?”

Just then, the front door unlocked and swung open.

“Shit!” the boy panicked. He scrambled up from the chair, snatching the bottle and glass, and dove for the cabinet beneath the sink to hide it just as his father stepped in.

“Chris, I’m home!” he called. “Another glorious day at the train yard,” he muttered, shuffling out of his shoes and pocketing his keys. His son hid just around the corner and opened the fridge. “Chris? Oh hey, there you are buddy,” the man said.

“Uh yeah, sorry!” he replied, quickly pulling several containers of food. Pasta salad, lunch meat, cheese, potato rolls. Sounds okay. “I meant to get dinner started, just had a bunch of homework to finish up.” Great. He was already lying to cover his ass. One step closer to being an alcoholic. Like father, like son. Fuck, what have I done?

“That’s my boy. Always prepared,” Charles smirked. “Feel like fixing your old man a shot first? Just had a long, crappy day.”

“Oh…y-yeah, no problem!” Chris trembled, nearly dropping the items in his arms on the way to the counter. Jesus, calm down. He won’t even know unless you act stupid. So don’t give him a reason to be suspicious. He quickly turned to the cabinets on the right of the sink where his father kept his liquor stash. Three bottles of vodka and another of whiskey were left. He reached for the whiskey, which happened to be the man’s day drink of choice.

“No no, my favorite bottle of that stuff uh, what’s it called?”

“The Fireball?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Uh…” FUCK! Is that what I drank? And it’s under the sink. Oh no… “You, um…eh, I hate to break it to you Dad, but…think you finished that one. I don’t see it in here.”

“The hell?” Charles uttered. He approached the cabinets with a confused look on his face. “I just bought it this past weekend. Couldn’t have finished it already. It’s impossible!”

“Well, uh-”

“Whatever man, just give me the Jack Daniel’s Honey.”

“Oh, sure! Uh, you wanna have a seat?”

“Am I being pampered now?”

“Yeah,” Chris shrugged, forcing a laugh. “Why not. After a hard day, you’ve earned it.”

“Alrighty then.”

His son grabbed the unopened bottle of Jack and a clean shot glass while Charles sat at the table. Chris looked back a moment. His father held his head in his hands, then ran a curious finger over the table. My handprints are still there. Shit, I was sweating that much? He quickly got to work pouring the man his usual after-work shot, adding ice, then joined him back at the table. He left the bottle out, something he’d learned to do after years of practice. One time he had put it away by mistake, and Charles had flown into a rage. That had cost him a few bruises.

“Here,” he said, turning his head to let out a brief belch. “Whoa, sorry!” he chuckled, setting down the shot glass. “Must be the pizza rolls.” Charles immediately seized him by the wrist.

“Wait!” he snapped, rising from the chair. “I smell something.” Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! “Breathe in my face again.”

No…“D-Dad, I-”

“NOW!” the man barked.

Chris shook in fear as he faced his father. Something about that man’s voice always left him paralyzed. The alcohol he’d consumed did little to put him at ease. Perhaps in some part of his mind, he had hoped it would. Or at least that it might work its magic before the man got home. Stupid! What was I thinking? ‘You FOOL, Captain Spirit!’ Mantroid’s voice spat in his head. ‘You really thought you could escape ME? I will rip the breath from your lungs, boy!’ Chris trembled. He had no choice but to obey. He sunk his head and reluctantly leaned forward, exhaling a shuddered, ghostly breath.

“You drank my Fireball, didn’t you.”

The boy paused. His throat locked up for a moment.

“DIDN’T YOU!” The man shouted, raising his hand.

“Dad, look I’m sorry, I- AHH!” Charles whacked him across the face hard. His head whipped to the side. Tears flew from his eyes. A sharp sting tore through his cheek, cutting straight down to the jawbone. He felt it in his teeth. He felt it in his gums. He felt it in his tongue when he accidentally bit down on it from the impact. The boy cradled the side of his face as he began to cry.

“Where is it,” his father growled. “Where’d you put it?!”

Chris shuddered, shaking harder than ever. “Uh..U-Under the ssss…ink…”

“Where?”

“U-Under the…the sink...sir…”

The man angrily knelt down and opened the cabinet doors, snatching up the incriminating evidence. Chris frantically scanned the room for something. A blunt object, a weapon maybe, anything to knock him out with. Hell, he even half-expected Daniel might show up at just the right moment to save him again. Not this time, he remembered sadly. He’s not coming…I’m all alone. Before he could think of anything else, Charles rose and slammed the bottle of Fireball down on the kitchen counter with a smirk. For a moment, he gazed out the window above the sink into the brightly lit day, shaking his head. He huffed in a wavering silence. Maybe deep thought, who knew. Yeah right. Like my dad ever thinks about anything but his booze.

“Jesus,” the man huffed, bracing himself on the counter edge. “Chris, do you…do you have any fucking idea how much I…” Charles’s gaze fell to his dejected young son, who had taken to cowering against the fridge. “You want to end up like me?” he breathed. “You want to be just like your old man? Huh?! A fucking loser! Is that what you WANT?!" Chris hesitated. He didn’t know what to say. “Jesus, if your mother could see us right now, she…Chris, just…just go to your fuckin’ room please,” the man sniffled.

“Dad…” the boy whispered, still shaking. “I’m sorry...”

“Yeah…me too...”    

Chris bolted for the only place of solace he had left. He slammed the door shut behind him and locked it, swiping his Power Bear toys off the shelf as he went. He was frustrated. He was sad. But more than anything else, he was just angry. Angry at himself. Angry at Daniel. Angry at his father, and angry at the world. He collapsed on the floor and sobbed. ‘Pathetic!’ Mantroid’s voice echoed in his ears. ‘Was it all worth it? HAHAHA!’ Shut up! You’re not real. You’re not real, and I don’t need this shit right now. The pain still racked his face. His skin throbbed and felt hot. His bones ached. Everything ached, but especially that burgeoning lump in his throat that felt ready to explode at any moment. It made him too weak to move.

For a long while, Captain Spirit lay there in a broken heap with thoughts washing over him in waves. Thoughts of his childhood, thoughts of Daniel, thoughts of his mother and the visions granted him by Catalina. Mom would be so ashamed of me right now, I know it. Even that version of her. If it was even real at all. Man, I hate Cat for that. I HATE her! Because Daniel loves her and not me…god, I miss him so much! What am I gonna do without him?

He clawed his way up from the floor into bed and rolled around in tears, the weight of emotion choking him up worse than his father ever had. But through it all, he kept breathing. He had to, hot as he felt. After some time, Chris turned on his fan and slipped out of his clothes, save for his underwear. He willed himself up and lumbered toward the floor length mirror set in his closet to examine his skinny, lithe frame. Wonder if this is what heroes feel like when they’re tested. I have to take back my power. Somehow.

Then an idea came to mind. A stupid one. But for now, he needed comfort, and there was only one place he knew he was sure to get it. The boy paced to his desk and grabbed his phone, unlocking it and opening the app store. He swore he would never do it, but…

*          *          *

Maria Flores had woken up much earlier than expected that morning. It was nearly dawn, and her mother and son were fast asleep in their beds. Still, she did enjoy having a head start to the day. It gave her time to shower, pick her outfits, and prepare her son’s meals, as well as check over his homework in case any answers needed changing. It was important he made good grades. One day, she vowed, I’ll get him into a good school in the States. If people like Agent Parker and Michaels didn’t fuck things up first. Then again, she’d done plenty of that herself.

She had scrolled over her laptop upon waking to keep up with any news coming out of Beaver Creek. So far, the situation remained the same. No drug reports in the area aside from marijuana, little crime activity aside from the occasional rowdy teens or drunken misdemeanors. And thankfully, no one seemed to have discovered the body she and Michaels had left behind in the abandoned lakeside warehouse a year prior. Yet.

Flores was in her pink silk bathrobe, brushing her hair in the mirror around seven o’clock when her phone finally vibrated on the edge of the sink. She sighed and set the brush down to check it. Parker. A bit late, as usual.

“Hola,” she answered.

“Hey. Just got word from Diaz and that…hippie partner of his. Shipment left their shop late last night. Should be on its way this morning.”

“Last night?” she said, exiting the bathroom. That was unusual. “Strange timing.”

“It’s a four-hour drive from Puerto Lobos to Nogales. My best guess is they needed the extra time to load up the carrier with other vehicles before it crosses the border.”

“True,” Flores replied. She took a seat at the kitchen counter, opening her laptop.

“Need the password for the GPS?”

“No. Agent Michaels gave me access.” She opened the software and plugged in the appropriate number. The WiFi at her mother’s home was rather spotty, but once it kicked in, a location pinged. “Shit. Looks like they made a stop in Las Bellotas for now. South end of Nogales. Still a ways to go yet, but I’ll keep tracking throughout the day.”

“Understood. Think they’re planning anything?”

“No way to tell just yet. Probably picking up other vehicles. From my understanding, Las Bellotas is where you go when you don’t want to be seen. Good place for them to stock up and hide out until they go on the move again.”

“I’ll have my guys keep an eye on the exits.”

“Good,” Flores said. “And you have the buyers set up, yes?”

“Yeah. Michaels is taking care of most of it. There are three major dealerships in Beaver Creek, plus five smaller outfits that deal in secondhand sales and trade-ins. Between here and there, who knows. This could take a while.”

“Yes, well. At least we know the majority of their business stays in Portland.”

“By the way, there’s something else you should know.”

“What is it?” Flores asked. She heard the door to her son’s room open. “And better make it quick. My son’s awake. Have to get him ready for school.”

“When Sean called, he seemed…worried. Couple weeks ago, he was on some drunken bender. He’d called the Eriksen boy on the same phone his contact left him for their dealings. Thinks there’s a good chance Garcia might have threatened him or Daniel.”

“Directly?! Shit!” Flores gasped, bolting from her stool and heading back for the bathroom. She closed the door. “Sounds like another power play, only this time it’s about more than keeping Sean in their employ. It’s a good bet Daniel and Chris are familiar with that daughter of his.”

"Fuck!"

“Mama, Mama!” her son called from behind the door.

“Un momento, mijo!” she answered.

“So what’s our next move?” Parker asked.

“Get Michaels on the highway back to Beaver Creek immediately! If there's no immediate threat to Daniel or his friend, you can call in agents to start canvassing the high schools, but keep things quiet. We’re getting close,” Flores assured him. “But we need to be patient to avoid causing alarm. If we’ve got another hitman on our hands, that will definitely flush them out. In the meantime, stick to the plan. Focus on the dealerships for now, then the schools. You need to be methodical about this, or nothing will hold up in court.”

“Agreed,” Parker sighed. “I’ll get on it.”

Flores hung up the phone, plastered a fake smile on her face, and emerged from the bathroom to fix her son breakfast.

Sometimes, she wondered why she even bothered to leave the agency. 

Chapter Text

Catalina had been brushing her teeth that morning when a sudden vision rocketed through her head like a gunshot. She spat, ejecting toothpaste all over the mirror in white, foamy dots. Nausea gripped her hard in the stomach. She immediately bolted for the toilet, fumbled open the lid, and vomited. Droplets of drool hung off her lips in the aftermath, along with bitter tastes of stomach acid, peppermint, and the hint of something metallic. But it wasn't the taste produced by blood. She inhaled a second. The toilet smelled of something unexpected--gunpowder.

“What the fuck?” Cat whispered, wiping the refuse from her mouth. The girl opened her eyes and gazed down at the contents she’d expelled into the bowl. It was dark red with black, powdered chunks that resembled coffee grounds. A shiny object floated up onto the surface, silver and cylindrical. “Okay, this is new,” she breathed. The girl leaned back and reached down to pick out the object. Damn this is gross, she cringed, grasping the thing and tearing off a piece of toilet paper to wipe it off. She fell back against the wall and held it up to the light. It’s a…bullet? “How…”

A series of knocks suddenly came from the door in front of her, but she didn’t budge. Santiago entered after a few seconds.

“Anybody in h-…shit, sorry!” the teen said, covering his eyes. “Cat, I’m just here to grab my deodorant, I swear!”

“San!” she breathed. "Get in here and look at this!"

“At what, the enormous dump you just took?” he sniffed. “Smells more like…fireworks in here. You summon a demon or something?”

“Or something,” she scoffed, wiping her mouth and heading for the sink to rinse the object with actual soap.

“Dental demons?” the boy quipped, glancing over the mess on the mirror.

“No, estupido! Look.” Cat held up the bullet. Santiago snatched it from her hand and quickly closed the door.

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out. Where the hell did you get this?”

“From the toilet.”

“This thing was in the toilet?! Gross!” he gasped, tossing it in the sink.

“No, it…came from inside me. I had a vision and freaked out. Escupo en el espejo. I felt sick, then I puked. This was…in there. Somehow.”

“Okay…quiero creerte, but. You sure you’re not just making this shit up?”

“Santiago, I wouldn’t do that!”

“I don’t know. You’ve been off your meds, right?”

“Olvídalo!” Catalina snapped. She grabbed the bullet back from the sink and moved for the door. “I’ll just figure this out myself.”

“Hey, wait!” the teen stopped her. “Please just let me help before you cause any shit.”

“You know, I love how that’s always your first concern?” she chuckled. “You don’t want to help because you give a shit, you want to help because I might cause problems for you. Me importa un carajo!”

“Cat, just give me the fucking bullet!” Santiago exclaimed.

She didn’t want to. But at this point, any help was better than no help. And misguided though his concern was, she knew he was right. If her visions escalated, it was only a matter of time before the entire family found out. For better or worse, he was the only one she could trust to keep things under wraps. She sighed and handed over the object. Her cousin glanced over it in genuine curiosity a few moments.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about guns?” she crossed her arms and paced around behind him.

“Not much,” he admitted. “But this one’s definitely from a pistol of some kind. Maybe nine-millimeter. You see anything in that vision of yours that might help?”

“Someone was standing over me,” Cat shuddered. “There was a mirror, and a tile floor. Sort of like this one, but…more mirrors. More sinks. Like a school bathroom, maybe. It was dark. I felt cold. There was this pretty boy in a red jacket standing over me. Some rich white kid. He seemed angry. Really angry. Sounded like he was talking to himself before I got there. He said to me, ‘no one would ever even miss your punk-ass, would they?’” she trembled, choking up. It seemed the more she talked, the more it took a toll on her. “Then…I yelled, ‘get that gun away from me, you psycho!’” Catalina paused. Her heart was racing as she paced.

“Then what?”

“Then I was lying on the floor looking up,” she breathed. “I, um…the…the lights flickered.” The moment she said it, the power in their own bathroom flickered. Both teens looked at each other with wide-eyed expressions. A bright flash of blue caught Cat’s eye high up above the mirror, along with a brief fluttering movement. “Did you see that?” She quickly set a knee on the sink and climbed up for a closer look.

“What is it?” Santiago asked.

“I saw something…”

The lights flickered again, and out flew a blue butterfly. Catalina reached and caught it. For a split second, she felt it in her grasp. But by the time the light came back on and she opened her hand, it had vanished somewhere between the flashes, lost to the white.

*          *          *

It was around eight in the morning by the time Chris finally marched his way down Evergreen Street toward his house after the longest night of his life. His stomach growled. He was cold. He felt sick. He felt tired. He felt a lot of other things, none of which he wanted to think about. The boy shoved his hands in his pockets. As soon as his fingers brushed over the few crisp hundreds he’d been given, it all came rushing back. He wanted to puke.

‘So you won’t tell anyone, right?’

Chris had frozen up when they got back to the man’s house and entered his bedroom. Some random forty-something guy picked him up. It didn’t make any sense. I was the one who wanted this shit…right? I just wanted to be held. I wanted comfort. I wanted to be around a guy who wouldn’t make me cry. I wanted…I don’t fucking know. At that point, Chris admitted he’d lied about his age. Should have been obvious to the creep anyway. But the older man didn’t seem to care.

‘You came all this way. Why not stay and try things out?’

‘Um…I…I don’t know…’

‘Hey, don’t be nervous lil’ dude.’ He had massaged his shoulders. ‘I got beer if you want. Help calm your nerves.’

‘Nah, I’m good…I don’t really drink. Look, I know I said I was eighteen, but-’

‘You didn’t think I could tell?’ the man had laughed. ‘Hey, it’s okay, don’t be sorry. Besides, you’re pretty cute. I won’t say anything if you won’t.’ He had run a thumb over his cheek and looked into his eyes, like Daniel always did. But it didn’t make him feel safe. It had scared him. And in that moment—much as Chris hated his own father for what he’d done—being stuck with an alcoholic deadbeat seemed a massive improvement in comparison. He just wanted to go home.  

‘So…how ‘bout that beer?’

How ‘bout you take me home instead, he’d thought. But by then, it was already too late. He felt trapped. And maybe a little rude to have sent all those pictures and described what he wanted to do, only to say no.

‘I, uh…well…yeah. Cool.’

“Sick fuck,” Chris muttered as his house came into view. He never thought he’d be so happy to see it. Even if he was about to get the beating of a lifetime the second he walked through the door. He took out the bills and counted them aloud. “One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred.” Maybe if I give this to Dad, he won’t touch me. Then I can just lock myself in my room all fucking day and try to forget what happened. Cradling himself in the cold, the boy plodded up the driveway. He briefly entertained the thought of just hiding out in the garage. Maybe his father would think he’d gone to school. Yeah right. Not if he’s already awake. Whatever. Let’s just get this shit over with.

Chris turned the knob on the front door and quietly eased his way in, carefully closing it behind him. He slipped out of his shoes and winter jacket. Then he crept out of the entryway to look over the living room. Shit. Charles was seated on the couch. The man looked up the moment he rounded the corner. Chris glanced at the coffee table, on which a hunting rifle lay. In his hand, his father held a pistol, gazing into the chamber a moment before inserting a clip and cocking it.

“And just where the hell were you?” Charles asked sternly.

“Uh, I just…I-I was out…”

“Obviously,” the man sighed. “I asked you where, since you’re not at school like you should be.”

Chris frowned. “Here, take this,” he huffed, moving for the coffee table and tossing the bills down. “Just don’t fucking ask, okay? Please,” he pleaded. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Charles smirked. “You selling yourself now?” The boy didn’t answer. “Shit. Chris...”

“I’m going to my room now, Dad! K-Keep the money, all right? Just buy yourself some booze or...whatever like you always do! I don’t give a shit.” He charged for his room, but his father stopped him.

“Wait!” the man insisted. “I’m...I'm sorry. Look Chris, I uh…I was thinking maybe we could both spend the day together. Just you and me? Have some father-son time. And maybe I can…make up for that shit from yesterday. I know I say that a lot. I know it’s not enough, but…I’d really like it if we can just hang out, buddy. No booze, no bullshit, just…yeah."

Chris closed his eyes and broke down at the idea as the warmth of tears struck his cheeks. Something about hearing those words tore through his heart. It was all he ever wanted to hear for years. He couldn’t forgive him just yet, of course. He knew he had to be cautious. But after the horrible night he’d spent sneaking out with a stranger who turned out to be no better, the love of his father—no matter in what fleeting form it might come—meant everything. He needed it far more than he liked to admit. That part hurt, too.

“Dad…” he whimpered, turning around, his voice cracking. “Dad, I’m so sorry!”

“Oh Chris, what the hell happened?!”

“I can’t say…I just can’t!” he sobbed, rushing to the couch and falling into his father’s arms. “I did something stupid Dad, I’m so fucking stupid!”

“Hey, hey! Shhh,” Charles whispered, embracing him tight. “You’re not stupid, son. Okay?" His father was choking back tears too. "Jesus, don’t you ever think that! You had me worried sick all night, I'm just glad you're home safe!”

“I know…m-me too,” the boy sniffled. “A-Are you still mad at me for that…drink I had yesterday? I just-”

“Hell no,” Charles assured him, squeezing his shoulder as Chris knelt on the floor. “Heck, I think if anything, you gave your old man the wakeup call of a lifetime...fuck!" he shook his head. "Seeing you...my own son, drink…now that was sobering for me. You know, I do realize it's been four years since your mother passed," he sighed. "Sometimes it's hard to believe. But I know I can’t keep doing this shit to us anymore buddy, I just…I can’t,” he said tearfully, burying his face in his hands. “It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to the memory of your mom, it’s not fair to the Reynolds or my co-workers. I’ve tried to stop so many times, I know, but. I can’t do this alone. So I want to try getting help again. Stop making all these excuses. Be the father you actually deserve for once. Become someone...you can be proud of.”

“Yeah,” Chris nodded, resting a hand on his dad’s. “And don’t worry, okay? You always got me.”

"And you always have me," Charles smiled. “God, I love you so much, son,” he said, stroking his hair and planting a kiss on his forehead. “Look, uh…you don’t have to talk about whatever happened last night, but. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh…y-yeah. I guess,” Chris sighed. “Just...need a shower. And maybe mouthwash.”

A serious look came over his father’s face.

“You see someone? Some sick fuck?”

“S-Sorta…I um. I used an app, and we met…”

“What did he do to you?” he demanded, reaching for the handgun on the coffee table. Chris set a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Dad, wait! I-I don’t want to make a big deal out of it if that’s okay. It’s done, I was an idiot. Lesson learned.”

“He's the one who needs a lesson!”

“Yeah, but…please just don’t. Okay? I mean it.”

“Well,” Charles said, letting out a winded sigh. “Fine. But don’t ever do anything like that ever again, all right? Those apps, whatever they are, they’re nothing but trouble. I don’t want to come home someday to find out my kid’s laying dead in a gutter somewhere. There’s some real freaks out there.”

“Yeah. Now I know,” Chris said, taking a seat on the couch next to him.  

“Yeah...so that’s why it’s important if you ever find yourself in some shitty situation,” Charles explained, examining his rifle, “you need to learn how to defend yourself. I figured that’s what we can spend today doing. There’s a spot up in the woods I like to go to sometimes for target practice. Or at least I used to, back before I started drinking myself to death. Firing off a few rounds can be...therapeutic.”

As Chris listened to his father explain how his firearms worked and went over the importance of safety rules, he found himself in awe. He hadn’t even known he owned them up until now. He also wondered why they were laid out on the table in the first place. They were obviously there before he got home. Curious, he decided to ask.

“Hey, Dad? This’ll sound a little crazy, but. Were you gonna go looking for me if I didn’t come back? Go all Punisher on someone’s ass?” he chuckled.

Charles laughed and put an arm around him.

“You bet your ass I was, son. When you didn’t answer the phone, I dug these things out of the garage and pounded some vitamins as fast as I could. Didn’t even touch a drink today.”

Chris smiled. Hearing it almost brought him to tears again. Dad must have been so scared. He wanted to protect me for once. He felt even more stupid for shutting his phone off in the first place, though he hadn’t been concerned enough for his own safety in the moment. Now, he would be. Once his father finished his minor educational points, Chris took a shower and brushed his teeth, then proceeded to collect the pile of empty alcohol bottles left on the counter. The boy checked all the other cabinets to be sure, but it seemed none were left. Charles had dumped every last one that morning.

“So…how’d I do?” the man asked, awaiting his son’s approval.

“I don’t see any,” Chris said.

“You check my room?”

“Uh…I didn’t think that was okay.”

“No, I want you to,” Charles nodded. “Not taking any chances.”

“Oh. Okay.” The boy quickly checked the closet, the armoire, and under the bed. Nothing. “Looks all clear, Dad.”

“Good. And if you ever find bottles anywhere else, I want you to get rid of them right away.”

“Cool,” Chris smiled.

“You all ready to go?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Let’s load up the truck.”

*          *          *

About thirty minutes later, Chris stood hunched over a fallen tree trunk with a rifle in his hands, carefully eyeing a fifty-yard target his father had set up. The earmuffs were tight and crushing his skull. The camouflage jacket engulfed his tiny frame and felt scratchy, but he did his best to focus. He went over the steps again in his mind. Breathe. Relax and aim. He had to wonder if this was what Daniel felt like when he used his power. Okay, Captain Spirit. Your turn. You have the power now. You can do this. Don’t think about anything else. Except maybe that fucker’s face from last night. Not Daniel’s. Not Jun Li’s or the other bullies at school.

He squeezed the trigger tight. BANG. The recoil rocked his shoulder and knocked him backward a bit, but he quickly regained his footing. The shot had hit just above the outer black ring.

“Shit,” Chris breathed.

“Nice shot!” Charles assured him. “Not bad for your first time.”

“It’s in the white though. I barely hit it.”

“Hey, the important thing is that you got the stance down. Your aim was on point, and you actually hit the target. You didn’t fall on your ass either. It’s a good start son,” the man smiled, patting him on the back.

“Really?”

“Definitely! Just don’t focus for too long. The more you do, the more you can get a little shaky trying to get it perfect, and that’s going to affect your aim. I know you’re more of an artist like your mom was. You like the to think about stuff. But in this case, the more you stop to observe, the less accurate you might be. Watch me,” he said, taking the rifle. “Helpful tip-”

“You mean pro tip?”

“Yeah, whatever,” the man smirked. “Give yourself ten seconds to start,” he said, taking aim. “Then gradually work your way down.” He cocked the rifle. Chris counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Charles fired, then stepped back. The boy blinked a few times and squinted across the distance. He had hit in the red, close to a bullseye.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That was only five seconds.”

“Yeah, I’m a tad rusty, but. You see what I mean?”

“Takes me that long to line up the shot!” Chris laughed.

“Don’t worry, it’ll come to you. It’s just like shooting a three-pointer in basketball. Or in your case…drawing out those guidelines. Maybe think of the target as a face, right? Don’t think about the body just yet. You’re doing a portrait, not going for an entire scene.”

“Yeah…that might help actually,” Chris agreed as his father handed the gun back.

The young teen stepped forward again, positioning himself over fallen tree. He supported the length of the barrel in his left hand, while pressing the butte firmly into his right shoulder. He spread his feet in the proper stance, then lined up the shot. Now look closely. Focus on the yellow. Nothing else. Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath to quiet his mind. For a moment, all went silent. Then he inhaled and looked. A sudden flutter of something darted across the target. He fired. BANG. He blinked. The shot landed in the blue ring this time, just above his father’s.

“Aw, yes!” he exclaimed. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Great job, son!” his father said proudly, patting him on the back.

Chris set down the rifle and turned to hug him tight. The boy found himself moved to tears again. For the longest time, he was unable to let go. Moments like these were what he’d secretly craved deep down for years, and it wasn’t often he allowed himself to realize it. He had become so used to taking care of his dad in his drunken stupors, or otherwise numbing the pain by clinging to Daniel that he barely remembered. Now that he actually experienced the bond he’d been missing and what that felt like, nothing else compared. Nothing.

“I love you so much, Dad,” he cried. “Please don’t ever drink again? Please…”

Charles let go and looked him in the eye, grasping his shoulder.

“Chris,” he said softly, his voice breaking, “you have my word, buddy. You have my word.”

The boy embraced him again, and Charles hugged back. As he stood there in the arms of his father, he opened his eyes again, gazing at the target that lay far off in the distance, marred by their handiwork. Something about it looked a bit off. He squinted. The colors appeared to merge just near his last shot, the red fading into blue. But it wasn’t the paint. It was distinct splatter of red. Chris broke away from the embrace and plodded forward to get a closer look.

That flutter of blue I saw…what was that?

Chapter Text

Catalina and Santiago exited their Uber ride in downtown Beaver Creek with the bullet in hand, bound for the local Sharpshoot Guns & Ammo store. If anyone could tell them what kind of firearm the thing might have come from, it was them. But while Cat was convinced they might find out, her cousin had remained ambivalent on the ride over. ‘No way are we gonna be able to pin this without other evidence,’ he’d said, quick to point out that there was no crime scene. All they had was a singular bullet in their possession and a simple hunch. With no potential guns to match it up to, Santiago wasn’t so sure the trip was worth it. ‘Fuck it. I’ll go with you anyway if you’re that sure.’

As they rounded the corner onto Mantle Street, Cat looked over the object again. Sure, it was a long shot. But there seemed to be some subtle grooves on the bullet. If they could somehow link that to a particular gun barrel, or even the black gunk that looked like powdered residue on the back, it would certainly tell them more.

“No offense Cat, but gun shop owners aren’t exactly forensic scientists,” Santiago said. “We might have better luck just going to the cops.”

“Fuck no! And tell them what? ‘Hey officer, I know this sounds mucho loco, but I totally just vommed out a bullet! Oh by the way, mi papa is a Mexican drug lord! Deportame, por favor!’ Sounds good, right?”

“Okay, I guess you got a point.”

“Like always,” she frowned. “Look, if I tell you there’s a connection to something, you just have to trust me, okay?”

“I do! It’s just a little hard when I can’t see how shit’s supposed to make sense. But I guess it’s been what, like two months since you drew that thing of the school shooting, so…you think this has something to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Catalina sighed. “Sometimes it takes a while to connect all the dots. But we’re in the right place, so maybe. I do get a weird vibe from this street. Like something happened here a few years ago.”

“Yeah, you said that on the night we came to see Coco.”

“That boyfriend of Daniel’s is…pretty complicated. But I don’t think he was the guy in my vision. The bathroom wasn’t anything like the ones from our school. This was somewhere else. But there’s some connection between them, I know it. Maybe if I don’t think about it, it’ll come to me. Usually how it works.”

As the two crossed over an intersection and walked past the movie theater toward the gun shop, Catalina caught sight of an old yellow sports car revving its engine across the street. The radio inside was blasting a rock song. Though muffled, it sounded somewhat familiar. She stopped in her tracks and looked. The driver rolled down the window after a few moments, affording them a much clearer picture. ‘Load up on guns, bring your friends, it’s fun to lose and to pretend, she’s over-bored and self-assured, oh no, I know a dirty word, hello, hello, hello, how low…’

“Hey San,” Cat breathed, shivering in the cold. “You know American music better than me. I’ve heard this one, but…what song is that?”

“Are you kidding?” the boy chuckled. “Everyone knows Nirvana! This is their most famous song, dude. It’s called ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’.

“That’s it!” Cat gasped. “Teen Spirit…”

“What about it?”

“I don’t know…just gives me a weird feeling.”

“‘With the lights out, it’s less dangerous,’” her cousin sang along as they continued to walk. Cat shuddered at those lyrics. They made her nauseous.

“Can you not?” she breathed. “It’s a creepy fucking song.”

“But it’s so catchy!”

“Not if you listen to it in a dark room.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Just a feeling,” she sighed. But it went deeper than that. Something about the song struck a palpable terror in her, though she was at a loss for words to explain why. For whatever reason, it just sounded bad. Especially with the way it echoed down the street as the car sped off, and they turned to enter the gun shop. It seemed worse as background noise.

The shop inside smelled heavily of dust and aged cigarettes. Fortunately for the two teens, not many customers were in during the early morning hours. Anyone who might recognize them were either at school or wouldn’t frequent such a dingy place anyway. When they approached the counter and began browsing over the guns in the glass case, a kind older man came over to assist them.

“Morning there! Can I help you?”

“Uh, we’re just looking for now,” Santiago said.

“Not to be a pain, but you both have proper ID, right? It’s just that you kids look a little young to be in a gun store.”

“The hell does that mean?” Catalina frowned.

“Cat!” her cousin hissed. “Um…sir, we don’t really need ID unless we’re buying something, right?”

“Well, that’s true,” the man said. “We just prefer to be on the safe side.”

“Safe side of what?” the girl spat, crossing her arms. “Do we look like criminals?”

“Now I didn’t say you did-”

“Sir, I’m really sorry!” Santiago cut him off, chuckling nervously. “She’s just…having a rough morning. Time of the month, you know?”

Catalina punched him hard in the arm.

“Ow!”

“Anyway,” she said, grinning in condescension, “we just have a few questions. Sir. You can answer those without ID, right?”

“Uh, right!” the man smirked. “I apologize. What can I do ya for?”

“Whew,” Cat breathed, muttering curses in Spanish at his choice of phrasing. “So I found this bullet yesterday in the woods, yeah?” she lied, setting the thing upright on the counter. “I was wondering if you could tell me what kind of gun it came from. There’s markings on the casing, if that helps.”

“I see,” the employee said, taking the bullet and grabbing a small magnifying glass off the register. “It’s a little difficult to tell. I’m a gun shop owner, not a forensic scientist.”

“Told you,” Santiago said under his breath. Cat rolled her eyes.

“Tell you what I can do, though. I’m actually good friends with Nick, he’s the deputy sheriff in town. Comes in here quite a bit. If you don’t mind me holding onto this, I can have him send it off to forensics for analysis. Might take about a week or so. Might cost some money too, but I can get back to you with an answer if you leave me a number I can reach you at.”

“Right…” Catalina paused. “Uh, can we have a moment?”

“Of course.”

She turned back to Santiago, pulling him far away enough from the counter so the shop owner couldn’t hear them.

“Sounds like our best bet,” the boy shrugged.

“No way. No fucking way!” she whispered. “No cops. No federales. I can’t believe you’d even be stupid enough to consider that!”

“So we can leave him my number!”

“Oh, so the whole familia gets sacked?! Did you forget what my father does? Huh? Stupid!” she seethed, slapping him upside the head.

“Ow! Pensé que estábamos juntos en esto. If you’re gonna call all the shots, why’d you even drag me out here?”

“I don’t know! Guess I just...feel more protected.” Cat frowned and charged back over to the counter. “Look,” she sighed, addressing the shop owner. “Are you sure there’s absolutely no way you can figure this out on your own? Even if you make an educated guess. Something.”

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “It’s a standard nine-millimeter casing. A lot of handguns use this ammo, and a lot of the chambers leave similar marks. I can tell you what our best-selling guns are that might point you in the right direction, but beyond that…I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “Without forensics or other identifying marks, I honestly have no idea.”

“Great,” Cat sighed. “Gracias for your time.”

With nothing to go on, she snatched the bullet off the counter and stormed outside with Santiago trailing close behind her. She couldn’t explain why, but she was getting more irritated as time went on. Here they were, weeks after her drawing of the school shooter, hoping to solve the case of an alternate reality with a bullet she puked out and a mere hunch that something was about to go wrong. Somehow, it all had something to do with the Eriksen boy. And maybe his trigger in this reality wasn’t the problem that needed figuring out, but that’s what she was led to believe. And for better or worse, that’s where the trail ended.

Catalina looked back to the street signs as they made their way past the movie theater again. She gazed at Willie’s Diner a few moments. It seemed like just yesterday when she’d sat in the booth across from those two confused boys, rambling her psychic prophecies about their parents. Then, there was Dia de los Muertos. And ever since then, it felt like reality was beginning to close in on her in uncomfortable ways. As if her actions that night had somehow opened a hole to another universe, and a chaotic storm raged somewhere just beneath the surface. The signs were more evident to her now. From the song playing in the car on the street, to the sudden appearance of blue butterflies, to the bullet, to her vision that morning, and even in her interactions with certain people. Something was changing, and fast.

As she neared the intersection just past the movie theater, something again caught her eye. The green street signs loomed above the two teens, slightly misshapen and ugly. The pole, she noticed, was bent at a slightly odd angle around the base, as if someone had hit it with a vehicle at some point. Then she heard a voice. A deep, haunting voice that grew ever clearer the closer she got. She looked up to read the names at the intersection.

“Mantle Street and Asteroid Drive…Mantle…Asteroid. Mant-roid. Mantroid.”

“Cat, you okay?” Santiago asked. But he was beginning to sound far away. “Cat!”

“You FOOL!” the voice shouted. “You don’t belong in this universe! Deep down, you know it to be true. You have upset the balance of time and meddled with the very laws of existence! This world as it stands will NEVER tolerate your presence, so long as the wheels of time turn. You will fall to ashes before everyone you love!”

“What the fuck is this…” Catalina trembled. “You’re not real!”

“HAHAHA! I am as real as she who made me.”

“Who made you?!”

“Follow the blue butterflies, young Phoenix. When they have all but disappeared, you shall know the truth, and your time will end. Then…no one will remember you. NO ONE!”

“My friends will never forget me!”

“Oh, how I do admire your ‘Teen Spirit’. Before I strip you of your soul, perhaps I will frame you in a dark room to capture you in your final moments of desperation. Then, you will be MINE!”

“Fuck you...” Cat choked. Something in the air gripped her throat tight. It was hard to breathe.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Catalina stumbled forward, bracing herself against the fated street sign. The moment she did, she found herself standing in the middle of the intersection. A blinding white light engulfed her. Then came a deafening screech of tires, and the overwhelming force of an impact that crushed her frail body instantly beneath an unbearable weight.

Everything fell black, but she could still hear Mantroid’s voice laughing over the sound of her cousin frantically trying to wake her.

*          *          *

Chloe awoke to the sound of Max calling her name from the bathroom. She quickly shuffled the covers off herself. It had been happening for the last couple weeks. Her girlfriend would wake up shaking in a cold sweat after a series of recurring nightmares she was unable to recall. From Chloe’s estimate, it had begun the morning after November 1^st. At the outset, she’d chalked it up to all the slasher flicks they’d watched in the days leading up to Halloween. But now, neither Max nor Chloe could fully explain the origin. It seemed each of them had distant memories of an event, though Chloe of course kept hers closely guarded for fear of worrying her girlfriend. She had enough stress with her photography exhibits, anyway. There were some scattered images that came to mind--coffins, wolves, flower petals, skulls, but that’s all they were. Nothing cohesive. And nothing to worry about. But her girlfriend seemed more affected.

“Fuck, not again,” Chloe groaned, throwing on her black distressed T-shirt as she headed out across the living room. Her short-cropped purple hair fell in her eyes as she went. Gotta remember to cut this shit before I look like all the other aging lesbian punks I’ve met. She’d certainly met a few hanging around New York, and they all stunk of expired makeup, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and—gag—Virginia Slims. Least punk cigarettes ever. She swiped her box of Camels off the coffee table and quickly lit one up. Not many things remained with them from the disaster that was Arcadia Bay, but her trusty tourist-looking lighter engraved with the lighthouse was one thing she’d managed to save. It didn’t make her feel at home, really, but…slightly more comfortable, in an odd way.

When she got to the bathroom, she found the door left slightly ajar. Candlelight flickered from the room like an eerie, beating heart. It was easy to forget that the switches had malfunctioned a week prior, and the stupid landlord had yet to send anyone to fix it. As Chloe creaked open the door, she saw Max huddled up against the tub, knees drawn up to her chest. Poor girl. She hated seeing her sick. It made Chloe feel sick by association.

“Damn,” the young punk smirked, taking a drag off her cigarette. “I’ve heard of rats crawling up the toilets in New York, but I never thought I’d see one so pretty!” she quipped. Max frowned. “Sorry. But come on, you know my shitty brand of humor is why you love me. Among, hopefully, other things. Like my totally bitchin’ fashion sense.”

“Can you not do this right now?” Max groaned. “I’m not feeling so hot.”

“Hmm,” her girlfriend pondered, taking a seat on the floor next to her. “That’s a shame, because you still look pretty hot.” Chloe wrapped an arm around her, kissing her forehead. “You don’t have a fever, at least. Kinda sucks, because I was totally about to bust out the cowbell,” she giggled.

“Chloe…”

“Yeah…I suck, I know,” she sighed. “So, uh…anything you can remember this time?”

“N-No,” Max said nervously. “Well, maybe. There was this flash of blinding white light. I was in a bathroom. Sort of like this one, but…different. Maybe a house. There were these two people. A boy and a girl. And I was just floating there, watching them. The girl had something shiny in her hand. I couldn’t tell what it was.”

“Damn. If that was a Pokémon, I’m kinda jelly. Shinies are a bitch to find.”

Max huffed and ignored her. “Then a new dream started. I was out in these woods somewhere over the mountains. I couldn’t see much, but I landed on something solid. Maybe a color. Then I got this sinking feeling in my stomach. Something smashed into me hard all of a sudden. That’s when I woke up. I…I keep having these headaches,” the girl explained, massaging her temples.

Chloe leaned her head back, absently blowing smoke in the air as she stared up at the flickering light on the ceiling. She couldn’t make sense of it either. It also bothered her when she felt unable to console her girlfriend. Come to think of it, there had been a lot of times like that over the years since Arcadia Bay. Times where she felt Max knew something painful she was too scared to admit. Ever since their argument following the storm that wiped out the town, Chloe had decided it was better not to ask. Still, there were times she had to.

“So I kinda hate to say it, but…you think this has something to do with your rewind power? Is it those kind of headaches?” Chloe was worried. It’s been eight happy years with the love of my life. I can’t lose her.

“I don’t know…maybe. But I haven’t used my power much since Arcadia. And I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” the girl said, resting her head on Chloe’s shoulder. “It’s just so weird I can’t remember. If there was something I went back and changed, I would know it. Do you think it’s possible…there’s someone else out there like me?”

“Hell no!” Chloe smirked. “You’re the fucking Time Lord, Max. It doesn’t get much more unique than that.”

“But we’ve both been feeling a little weird lately, right? Even you. I know you like to keep things to yourself because you’re always so worried about me and helping out with my exhibits. You always say it’s the town, wherever we go. Or the people I have to work with. It’s always that they’re too stuck up and snobby, or-”

“So suddenly this is about me?” Chloe frowned, taking a long drag of smoke. “Great. Didn’t know I was such a burden.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Max defended. “But I told you you didn’t have to come to New York with me in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you wanted to, but…you didn’t have to for me. And ever since we’ve lived here, you’ve just been a little-”

“A little what?” Chloe snapped.

“Different. Closed off,” the girl said. “I don’t know. You just…I need you to be okay with talking to me, too. And not always deflecting with your…humor.”

“Yeah,” the punk smirked. “I guess it does get old sometimes. Like us. And I guess I haven’t been as close to you as I should.” Max took her hand and entwined their fingers together. Chloe smiled and pulled her closer. “I’ll try to do better, ‘kay? Promise. But yeah. I have been feeling pretty off.”

“Maybe you’re right though,” Max sighed. “To be honest…I really fucking hate New York anymore,” she laughed.

“Anddd the artist goes punk! Never thought I’d hear you say that, especially after that whole year you spent masturbating to Tumblr photos of minimalist interior design,” Chloe chuckled.

“Oh come on, it's so pretty!”

“Yeah, pretty fucking impractical! Do you want to live in a soulless, Minecraft apartment? I’m hella concerned about the lack of hampers, cats, and dirty footprints. Seems sketch. Trust me, I’d be tearing that shit up the first chance I got just to piss you off.”

“Oh, I know,” Max giggled. “By the way, I’m sorry for getting on your case for turning down the Trash and Vaudeville deal. I know it’s not who you are.”

“Fuck that shit!” Chloe said proudly, holding up a middle finger. “Can’t stand those bourgeoisie dicks trying to capitalize on punk fashion. I can make half that shit myself from a thrift store for half the price! My art skills are better suited elsewhere. So are yours, Max.”

“Yeah, but we have to make money somehow. Ooh, what if we opened up a little shop someplace?” she asked, laying her head in Chloe’s lap. “I could sell my pictures, and you could sell your clothes.”

“Or you could settle for modeling photography, like I told you. Still think my punk mag idea was the best I ever had for us. I don’t know,” Chloe sighed, finishing off her cigarette. “You think we’re getting too old to be figuring all this shit out yet?”

“No, I think most adults just wing it. Or so I’ve read.”     

“Hmm,” Chloe paused thoughtfully. “Dude, we really need to get the fuck out of here!”

“Agreed.”

“Hell, I’d even take seeing Step-Douche again. Hate to admit it, but…I do kinda miss that guy. Sometimes.”

“How is he?”

“Who fucking knows,” Chloe shrugged. “Probably still shitting in buckets with the rest of those weirdos in Away-from-sanity. Been too long since I tried reaching out.”

“Well,” Max smiled. “Guess we’re taking a road trip this next summer.”

“Maxine Caulfield, Time Lord and Road Warrior!” the punk grinned. “Hey, if you bitch about the heat sister, that one’s on you.”

“Trust me, if this New York winter is anything like last year’s, I’ll take it,” Max laughed.

“Hey guess what, butterfly?” Chloe smiled, poking her nose.

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the two girls kissed and reignited their passion, they tried to forget their troubles for the time being. Or at least the simpler ones. But if there was anything Chloe knew in her heart, it was that another storm was brewing on the horizon. It closed in ever faster, bringing with it the whirling winds and lightning strikes of change.

And this one, she wasn’t quite sure either of them would survive.

Chapter Text

Catalina stirred as she woke. A gentle breeze swept over her face in the calm warmth of what she knew to be sunlight. For a moment, she kept her eyes shut and listened to the peaceful sounds of distant waves as they crashed on the rocky shores somewhere far below. It was perhaps the calmest setting she’d ever found herself in. If every day could be like this, she’d never have trouble sleeping again. The girl let out a sigh and rolled onto her back. The surface she lay on was hard, and a bit uncomfortable. She took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and sat up. Wonder how long I was out.

Glancing at her surroundings, she realized she’d been sleeping on a small bench positioned near a coastal lookout point. The weather was cool, but not too cold. Maybe late summer. Wind rustled the trees in a dense forest of pine trees. Every now and then, the call of seagulls could be heard as they swooped up and down the coastline, picking for random bits of food. A lone doe pranced back into the woods along the path leading up to the lookout when the girl looked in its direction. And there, looming far above to her left, was an enormous lighthouse.

“Oh, hey there,” a female voice spoke behind her. What?

“Um…hi!” Catalina smiled. “Sorry. Thought I was alone.” The blonde young woman slowly paced around the bench to gaze out at the ocean that stretched for miles ahead of them. She wore a denim jacket with a yellow blouse, jeans, and hiking boots. In her hand, she held a pink sketchpad.

“Beautiful place, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Cat agreed. She wasn’t one to engage in conversations with total strangers, but something about this woman convinced her she was someone worth talking to.

“People often come out here to be alone. The tireless artists seeking inspiration…lovers in search of a romantic getaway…high school kids who need to be reminded that maybe the natural world still exists beyond what they can see on their phones. Me, I like to come up here to remind myself that something about Arcadia Bay is eternal and everlasting. You can’t escape it, and you can’t get rid of it. You can try, of course, but. Heck, why would you want to?” she said, turning back with a smile as she ran a hand through the windswept locks of her hair. Her beauty shined radiant in the setting sun as she approached to shake Cat’s hand. “Sorry, I’m just rambling!” she chuckled. “I’m Emily.”

“Catalina,” the girl greeted her warmly. The woman took a seat next to her.

“It’s actually been quite a long time since I was here. A good sixteen years, at least.”

“Damn. And I thought four years was a long time!”

“Trust me,” the woman laughed, “the older you get, the faster time goes. It all just…slips away. For some people with troubled pasts, that’s a good thing. Makes you forget things easier. But when you’ve lived a good life, I guess it can get a little sad. Some things, when you lose them, you can’t forget. Hmm.”

Catalina pondered her words while the two gazed at the setting sun, watching it slowly descend over the horizon. She glanced up at the old lighthouse overlooking the bay and had to wonder how long it had been there. Upon her arrival in Beaver Creek, she’d heard stories about Arcadia. Whispers, mostly. Rumors. She knew that at some point, it had been wiped completely off the map. That nothing remained of it but a dead, scorched memory to be reclaimed by the sea over time. A lot of people had died there. Only one known survivor had made it out. Two were completely unaccounted for.

“Anyway, how about you?” Emily asked, tearing her from her thoughts. “What brings you up here?”

“Ha!” Cat laughed, brushing the hair out of her face. “I, um…I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Guess I’m still trying to figure that out. I’ve sorta…always felt a little out of place wherever I go, you know? Feels like maybe I don’t belong, or-”

“Not at all!” the woman assured her. “It’s easier to think that way when you’re young. But everyone belongs somewhere. Believe me, I went through the same thing. I never saw myself settling down anywhere in particular. Oh, I had my days at Blackwell Academy of course, my plans at Eugene State. I figured I was always meant to be some kind of artist, but…life never really pans out the way you think it will.”

“What changed for you?”

“Eh, I had some trouble finding my footing at first. Like all artists do,” she chuckled. “Then I met my husband in college, started publishing my little comics online. Everyone loved it, and after we had my son Christopher, something about it all just…clicked. You’ll find where you belong, sweetie,” Emily said, patting her leg. “You’ve got plenty of time, trust me.”

“Time seems to be the one thing I’m running out of lately,” Cat sighed, glancing up at the lighthouse towering over them. “Um, wait,” she gasped. Up until now, she could have sworn she was in a dream. “Sorry, but…did you just say your son’s name is Chris?”

"Yeah," Emily whispered, forcing a smile. A stray tear ran down her cheek as she looked back on the horizon. “My little Captain Spirit. My little superhero,” she nodded. “He was always so full of life. So happy, so imaginative, so energetic. Far cry from his father, I’ll tell you that,” she smirked. “That man, he was something else. Charles tried getting him into sports, but...Chris took more after me. We would come up with the craziest stories, go on little adventures together in our own back yard, play games every Saturday. Once I taught him how to draw, that was it. That was what he wanted to do. He made me feel like a kid again, in so many ways. And I guess…stronger than I was. Yeah,” she smiled. “That was him.”  

“That’s cute. Sounds just like my little cousins,” Cat smiled back. “So, uh…if you don’t mind me asking…what happened?”

Emily took a deep breath and paused before answering.

“Well, sadly, he uh…there was an accident…when he was coming home from a fishing trip with his father. We lived in Beaver Creek at the time. It was early fall. They had just stopped in town to grab some groceries on their way back. He had called me as soon as they left the lake. Couldn’t wait to show me the huge striped bass he’d caught that day,” she said. “Never cooked me a bass before, but. Super Mom was ready!” she laughed. “I decided to whip up a feast to celebrate. Told them to stop at the store for some supplies. Then…when Chris was crossing Asteroid Drive…” Emily trembled, “this...car came out of nowhere. Charles ran out of the store. Tried to warn him, but. Chris was already in the middle of the street. He was too late.”

“Shit, Emily,” Catalina gasped. “I am so sorry!”

“Me too,” the woman sniffled. “He was only seven years old!” she cried, covering her mouth to compose herself. “Excuse me…” she trailed off, digging a tissue out of her jacket pocket to blow her nose.

“It’s okay,” the girl rubbed her back and gave her a moment.

“You know...as a parent, you always try to understand why these things happen. Kids grow up so fast, and you do your best to protect them. To always be there, always be aware, but sometimes…it’s just not enough,” she breathed. “And you’re always left wondering what you could’ve done different, what was your fault, how you…might have changed things. But...since I’ll never really know the answer to that, I just...continue seeing him as the happy child he was, you know? Find some sense of peace where it doesn’t exist. So that’s it,” she shrugged, leaning forward and forcing another smile. “That’s why I came back to the eternal land of Arcadia Bay. To reset my life. Get away from my ex-husband and his, shall we say…problems. He just...took it much harder.”

“Whoa,” Catalina breathed. Now it all made sense.

Her heart pounded as she took in the full weight of Emily’s sad tale and what it meant, pondering the intricacies awhile in the beauteous nature that thrived around them. Despite what she knew—that life always exists somewhere in the universe—it never made it any easier when people shared their stories with her. The weight of their grief was often just as much a barrier to their continuing lives as death itself. And in her experiences with Daniel and the son of the woman who now sat before her, she’d learned it wasn’t something that ever went away, no matter how many years passed. But maybe there was a way she could help.

Oddly enough, it seemed that this version of Emily felt the same sense of loss that Chris did. She was still trapped in her pain. Maybe that’s part of why Chris never moved on in any reality, because his mom couldn’t. They died under the exact same circumstances, in the exact same intersection. Crazy. She has no idea he’s still alive somewhere else. But…maybe if I help her…Chris will be okay in the bad dimension I saw. He won’t bring his dad’s guns to school. And that event won’t run the risk of bleeding into mine. She’d heard rumors of his recent breakup with Daniel at school after all, and so she knew it was already set into motion. Catalina had to send a message, and quick.

“Emily, it’s…it’s going to be okay, you know?” she said, squeezing the young woman’s hand. “I know right now, that’s hard to hear. But your happy little boy is still out there, somewhere. Feeling your presence as much as you feel his. Maybe…he feels a sense of loss, too. I bet he really misses you,” she smiled. “And that he’s still an artist. He’ll never forget you,” she assured her. Tears were running down her own cheeks now. “He never…where I’m from, he never forgot you, Emily.”

The woman gasped as Cat held her hand.

“I…I can feel you're telling the truth. You’ve met my son, but somewhere else, and…I’m sorry, who are you?” Emily smiled, dabbing her eyes with her free hand.

“I’m just a friend,” the girl replied. “Here,” she said, letting go and placing a hand on her forehead. “I want you to close your eyes and hold very still, okay?”

Emily nodded as the girl grasped her shoulder to brace her.

Catalina then took a deep breath and reached out with her power. An intense wind kicked up around them, whipping through the trees and encircling them in a small cyclone. The bench they sat on began to vibrate subtly. The ground shook. Waves crashed progressively harder against the cliffside, forcing flocks of seagulls from their nests. Outside of her closed eyelids, the girl could make out a flickering flash of blue light. Warmth engulfed the two of them for a moment. A bright, burning warmth that lasted several seconds before shifting into a rhythm between intense heat and intense cold. Soon, it faded into lukewarm. Catalina remained steady as she opened the gateway in her mind when it became stable. Then the wind started to die down, and a darkness took over.

And within that darkness, pinholes of white light emerged before her in the form of a large constellation that took the shape of a tree, beautiful and enveloping. It took a bit to find the correct branch of reality in her mind, but once she did, she focused upon it with all her might until she found herself traveling upward at a high rate of speed. There, the images came to her in evermore vivid bursts of color that coalesced into auras of people and their memories.

Cat kept her breath steady and focused on all the things she wanted to show Emily. The stronger relationship she shared with Charles, Chris playing with his new dog, Daniel moving into Beaver Creek without the loss of his father, the friendship and love the two boys both grew to share. Daniel’s mother had passed in that version, and so Emily had begun to treat him as her own son. Cat showed her a world in which Chris grew to adulthood, excelled at school, went on to draw for AWESO Comics, found a girlfriend, and eventually got married with Daniel as his best man. He had children of his own, and would always come home to visit. And in all of it, Emily was there, cheering him on and providing support.

When the branch ended, Catalina opened her eyes and let go of the young woman. She glanced at their surroundings a moment to be sure nothing odd had happened. But sure enough, the sun was still setting. The seagulls still flew and called out beyond the cliffs. The trees still swayed with the ocean breeze, the waves crashed, and the lighthouse still stood in its testament to time. The only difference seemed to be a bright light now emanating from the windows atop the structure, shining a singular rhythmic ray over the coastline to warn approaching ships. Isn’t it a bit too early for that yet?

Emily smiled, though this time, the girl didn’t get the impression it was forced.

“Thank you,” she whispered, blinking away her tears for a few moments. “Thank you…” She trailed off and gazed back at the sunset to catch her breath, as if taking it all in for the very first time. She appeared more calm, and much more free. Like a heavy weight had just been released from her soul. “I knew there was something special about you,” she smirked. “From the moment I saw you out here on the bench. Life really does go on, doesn’t it? The people we love, they’re all still out there somewhere. My Chris…my boy is still alive!” she laughed.

“He is,” Cat smiled, taking her hand again. “And so are you. This place, where we are now? I’m pretty sure it’s his version of ‘somewhere else’ for you. He just can’t see it. Most people can’t.”

“That's hard to wrap my head around,” Emily breathed, still in shock. “You know, something drew me up here today, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was? I thought I had to remember something, maybe just…let the answers come in with the tide, like I always do. But I’ve been sketching this same image for quite a while now, and I’m not really sure what it means,” she said, flipping through her book of drawings. “Always felt like I had to show it to someone special. Maybe…you’re the one who’s meant to have it.”

The young woman found the appropriate page and tore it out, handing it to Catalina. As she did, the rays from lighthouse above them suddenly shifted to a bright blue. The girl scanned over the drawing closely, which she found unsettling.

It depicted the very spot where they now sat, with a large hurricane approaching Arcadia Bay in the distance. A lightning bolt had come down from the sky, striking the lighthouse with such force that it broke through the center. The top half of the structure seemed to be toppling over. And there, standing in front of the bench, was the silhouette of a young woman with her hand outstretched. Beside her stood another figure. This one was comprised of not human-like lines, but rather a large flock of blue butterflies with a large question mark in the center. A title in quotes was scrawled atop the image: “Teen Spirit”.

An immediate gust of wind flew up around them. Catalina shook at the sudden crack of thunder somewhere across the bay and glanced up in a panic. The sky fell dark with the next passing ray from the lighthouse. Emily was no longer with her. A series of discordant whispers emerged from the woods below, kicking up dead leaves as they came. She couldn’t make out anything at first until a singular voice broke through the rain and static, bringing with it the lightning strike from the woman’s drawing.

“Max! Max stop, you can’t save her! You can’t go back that far, she said that’s not how it’s supposed to end!”

“Fuck how it’s supposed to end, Chloe! I didn’t give up on you, I am NOT giving up on him! We make our own rules…right kid?”

“Please…please just send me back…”

That last voice. It was a male one. And though it sounded deeper, more adult, Cat knew exactly who it was.

Before she could hear any more, she woke up.                 

*          *          *

“I killed it,” Chris whimpered. It was probably the thousandth time he’d said that since leaving the woods as he held the fragile, blue, broken-winged creature in his hand. He still couldn’t believe it. What were the chances his shot would land smack in the same blue ring that, unbeknownst to him, had concealed a rare butterfly? The more he went over it in his mind, the more he felt it wasn’t mere chance. That it was there for a reason. That it meant something deeper, considering the one he’d seen on Daniel’s shoulder some weeks back. Maybe it was an omen. Maybe this is who I am now. A murderer. A taker of life. But it was only an insect. I shouldn’t be getting so worked up, but…

“It’s just a butterfly, son,” his father chuckled. He shifted gears going up the hill. The rickety old truck bounced the pair as they went. Chris hated feeling every bump and inconsistency in the road. The thing desperately needed new shocks. Made him feel like the entire world was taunting him, in a way.

“But this one’s special! Look at its wings. You don’t see butterflies like this out here in Beaver Creek. You even said so yourself.”

“Yeah…I guess it is kind of weird how that happened. But the important thing to remember is that it was an accident, Chris. And accidents, well…sometimes they just happen,” the man said. Chris looked up. There was a palpable sadness in his father’s voice, almost as if he were thinking about something else. The boy had seen that look enough times to know exactly what it was about. “Look buddy, uh…I know it means a lot to you, and I’m sorry. When we get home, maybe we can bury it in the garden if you want. Say a little prayer, or…I don’t know.”

“Funny,” the boy muttered. “That’s more than we ever did for Mom.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” his father frowned.

“It’s true!”

“I know it’s true, Chris!” Charles snapped, slamming on the brakes. The truck screeched to a halt and the boy promptly slid to the right, plastering himself against the passenger door in fear. “Don’t you think I feel guilty enough? Huh?!”

“Whatever,” Chris sniffled. “Here we go again. Should’ve known today wasn’t gonna last. You already want a drink when you get home, don’t you?”

“I…yeah,” the man stopped himself, cutting the engine. “Yes I do. But it’s not because of you, all right? Son, it’s…it’s never been because of you,” he said, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “I just need you to know that.”

“Uh…well, o-okay,” Chris replied.

“Look, I’m sorry. Just feeling a little panicky right now. Happens when you go ‘off the sauce’, as they say. Don’t worry. I should be all right in a few days. Right as rain.”

“Yeah…” Chris trailed off, still picking at the dead butterfly in his palm. The sky was turning gray outside, giving way to the first droplets of drizzle on the windshield. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done. The gun he’d fired that had taken a life. How was that a random accident?

“And yes. We’ll do something to remember your mother this year, okay? I promise.”

“I killed it,” the boy whispered, his lower lip trembling. “It’s my fault…”

“No, buddy, it…it wasn’t your fault.”

“Was Mom my fault? Dad, you always said-”

“I know what I said, Chris!” the man cried. “Christ, you never let me forget it! But it’s not true, okay? It’s not! All that…shit I put you through whenever I drank, that…it wasn’t me.”

“Sometimes I just want Mom, you know? I miss her, Dad,” Chris choked. “I miss her so fucking much!”

“I know!” Charles wept, embracing him. “I miss her too, son,” Charles embraced him. “I miss her too…”

Chris wrapped his frail arms around his father, taking care when he closed his palm to avoid further crushing the dead creature. As the two at last let out the emotions they’d kept secret from one another for the past seven years, Captain Spirit began to feel fulfilled. Not quite happy, but. Fulfilled in a way he hadn’t been since the day his mother was taken from him. Maybe he didn’t have superpowers, but he also no longer felt he needed them. He didn’t need to make an enemy out of his father anymore, or Daniel, or anyone else. Nor did he feel the need for vengeance, a stray thought which had crossed his mind when he’d first held that rifle in his hands and imagined the faces of the bullies at school. He felt free. He felt a certain peace come to him.

That’s when he felt a sudden fluttering in his hand. What…

“Dad…Dad, Dad, Dad! Let go for a sec!”

“What is it, son?”

“I-I think…” Chris gasped, holding a trembling hand out in front of them. Charles leaned in close to get a good look. “It’s moving. It tickles!” he giggled. Slowly, he uncurled his slender fingers and opened his palm to reveal a bright blue butterfly that was very much alive. The wings glowed so bright, it lit up the interior of the truck. It quickly took flight and fluttered about in the air, dancing around the boy’s face, then landing on the shoulder of his father. “No way!” Chris laughed. The thing then moved to the steering wheel, then the dashboard, the passenger lock.

For a while, father and son observed the wondrous miracle of life in complete and utter awe as they continued to hold one another close. Once they were both ready to say goodbye, Charles opened his window. The animal fluttered around at first as if to thank them, then flew free and made its way higher and higher up into the treetop canopy, where it promptly disappeared. The light drizzle of rain outside soon gave way to a thunderstorm outside. Chris hugged his father once more, and for the longest time, they sat there in the silence. Neither could explain what had just happened, but deep down, each of them knew.

“Pretty sure that was a sign from your mother,” Charles smiled. “She’s still out there somewhere, isn’t she?”

Chris laughed knowingly and patted him on the back.

“Yeah. She really is, Dad.”

*          *          *

Catalina angrily stormed out of the Uber she and Santiago had taken back to Beaver Creek High, slamming the door behind her. The driver shouted something about ruining his expensive car as she charged off for the main entrance, but she was done listening to anyone at that point. She’d already had to beg and plead with her cousin to allow her to go to school in the first place. Arguing with him on top of that about what she had seen after passing out only pissed her off more. Much as he could be a great protector, he still seemed way too skeptical when it came to believing her.

“So what the hell is your plan now, huh?” he asked, chasing after her. “You’re just gonna go into class like nothing happened when you just fucking fainted?! What if you have a concussion? At least see the nurse or something!”

“I said I’m fine!” she huffed. “Besides, aren’t you the one who always tells me to take my meds and forget shit?”

“I mean after what you just told me, yeah, I’d kinda prefer you go home and sleep it off, because you sound crazy!”

“Sorry, not happening. I told you, I have work to do! I need to get to the bottom of this.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, San! Maybe I’ll take a taxi to the ruins of Arcadia Bay so you’ll leave me the hell alone. At least I’d be in better company.”

“Man, you are really fucking wild, ya know that?” he laughed incredulously.

“What the hell is it going to take for you to believe me?”

“Cat, it’s not that I don’t believe you! I do. It’s just-”

“What?!”

“Okay…first you start drawing creepy shit, now you’re puking up bullets. Second, why do you always have to pursue shit to the ends of the fucking earth like you’re some detective?”

“Soy la única que puede.”

“It’s gonna get you killed!” he shouted, grabbing her backpack and yanking her backward. She quickly shoved him off and slapped him.

“Mira en mis ojos!” she scowled. “You see my eyes? Does it look like I give a shit? I’m sure it wouldn’t be the worst thing for you.”

“Don’t say that! Por qué actúas así?” the boy asked, backing down. Cat stopped to catch her breath and listened. “I’m just…I’m worried about you, Catalina. Because the more you do this, the more bad shit’s going to happen. And then serás deportado, and then…estaré solo,” he sighed. “I’d…I would feel alone without you, okay? I just…yeah. You’re the only one in my family who’s around my age, and I guess…te amo. God, that sounds stupid,” he breathed.  

Cat looked at him with sympathy and kissed his cheek, hugging her cousin tight. Santiago was never too keen on showing emotion towards her, but when he did, she could tell he was especially bothered by something. If there were one family member on the planet she’d ever feel bad about possibly leaving behind, it would be always be him.

“Lo siento,” she sighed, rubbing his back. “I’m not trying to upset you, okay? Sometimes I wish I could just give people my powers for a day so they wouldn’t worry about me so much. And I know what I’m doing, San. Dices que me crees, but…I need you to have faith in that too, okay?”

“Yeah,” the teen nodded reluctantly. “Sure. I guess if it keeps you around, I’m still in.”

“Gracias,” she smiled. “Come on.” Cat took his hand as they made their way toward the main entrance of the building. “It’s still your study hall period, right?”

“Got another forty-five minutes.”

“Good, because we’re going to the library. Have to do a little research.”

“Gee, my favorite thing in the world,” Santiago rolled his eyes. “You have a history project to do or something?”

“Sort of. I need to know what the hell destroyed Arcadia Bay.”

“Wasn’t it just a storm?”

“I think it was more than that.”

*          *          *

The library was mostly empty when the two teens strode in, save for three or four other students who were hard at work on their English term papers. So not excited for that next year, Catalina thought to herself as she watched them at the tables, shuffling painfully through their index cards. While Santiago headed off for the section labeled ‘Local History’, she made it a point to stop at the front desk and sign in for computer usage. Students were limited to an hour of use, but that was more than enough time to gather all the info they would need.

As she wrote her name and the time period during which she’d be doing her research, one of the librarians approached her with another sheet of paper with copious amounts of red pen. Shit. It was the late list. She’d almost forgotten she had signed out several books at the beginning of the semester she still had yet to return.

“Miss Catalina Fuentes, is it?”

“Morning, Cindy! You’re looking radiant as usual,” the girl smiled nervously. “Keeping up with that Avon, eh?” The librarian wasn’t amused. “Look, I know there’s a couple books-”

“Try ten!” the woman frowned. “Which seems to be a new student record.”  

“Uh…” she paused, glancing over at Santiago. “Listen, I just need to use the computer for a research paper, okay? It’s really important. I’m not trying to sign out any books right now, I swear.”

“Good, because you’re effectively banned until you return the others. You have a week to get them back to us, or else it’ll be a fifty-dollar fee.”

“Fifty dollars?!”

“Count yourself lucky you didn’t sign out any textbooks! Those are three hundred.”

“Right…I’ll be sure to get them back.”

“Good. Anything else I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes,” Cat nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything on the Arcadia Bay disaster, would you?”

Cindy laughed. “You sure you want to jump down that rabbit hole? I see your cousin’s already hard at work in the wrong section.” The woman glanced over to the left, where Santiago seemed to be struggling to find anything. “It’s not in Local History, I can tell you that much. As for the computer you signed in for, you’re going to want number ten, not five,” she said, marking it down on the sheet.

“What?” Catalina shot her a confused look. As far as she knew, there were only seven computers in the entire school library for student use.

“We have an entire archive room devoted specifically to Arcadia Bay,” Cindy explained. “Microfilm, photographs, old restaurant menus, newspaper articles, the whole shebang. Hell, even some old records from Blackwell Academy, since they ran out of space to store everything and pawned it off on us. You’re probably the first to ask about it since last year. Welcome to the vortex!” the woman winked, coming out from behind the counter. “Follow me, I’ll show you both to the back.”

Cat collected her cousin, and together, the two followed the middle-aged librarian to a locked room at the back left corner of the library labeled ‘Archives’. The door was secured with a PIN pad and card access lock, which seemed odd. Whatever was in that room, it was clearly worth keeping secret. The two teens exchanged baffled looks as Cindy led them inside and shut the door behind them.

The room easily took up half the width of the library outside, something neither of them expected. Against the wall aside the door sat a table with three additional computers with dividers labeled eight, nine, and ten respectively. The two on the end were shut off and had been taken apart. The rest of the room was lined with shelves, plus three free-standing book cases along the center, and a small table between them for reading over any info. A large black film projector sat on the end of it pointed at the back wall, while a microfilm viewer was on another table at the far end. Boxes were piled high with files in several locations, along with a shelf of newspaper clippings and some old student files.

“Well, this is it,” Cindy shrugged. “Pretty much all the declassified stuff that remains, aside from evidence locked up at the local police precinct. But I wager you wouldn’t be able to get into that.”

“Holy shit!” Santiago whispered.

“Word of advice,” the woman said, “it helps if you have something specific you’re looking for. Our database on the computer comes in handy, and everything is catalogued for easy access. Normally I’d encourage you to take your time, but as you can see, there’s far too much to go through in here, unless of course you intend to spend a few months. And even then, there’s no guarantees. A lot of things got wiped out in that storm. Tragic, right? Anyway, have fun!” Cindy smiled. “By the way, nothing leaves this room whatsoever, not no way, not no how! The door will lock on your way out, please do not prop it open for any reason. If you have to use the bathroom, now’s the time.”

“I think we’re good,” Catalina said, still awestruck. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. And please don’t forget to turn in those books!”

“Will do.”

With that, Cindy left them. For a moment, the two teens browsed the perimeter of the room to take a quick look over everything. Cat kept in mind they were on a schedule as she stopped to check the clock on the wall. Great. Santiago has thirty minutes left. I at least have an hour, but I don’t give a shit if I miss my classes. In the meantime, I need his help. But where to start?

“All right, let’s not waste time,” she said, standing over the computer labeled ‘10’ as her cousin kept looking over the room in curiosity. A display came up with a search bar to go through the catalogued numbers. It took some doing, but she quickly figured out how to exit back to the main desktop and access the browser. “Pretty sure I know what I need, but I’m not sure it’s in here,” she sighed, typing ‘Teen Spirit’ into the URL section. A ton of Google results came up. First was a 2018 film, then deodorant ads, then the Nirvana song. “Well that’s not it.”

“How about ‘Teen Spirit’ with ‘Arcadia Bay’?” Santiago suggested.

“Good thinking,” the girl nodded, taking a seat. “Let’s see…okay, here’s something interesting. It’s a book. ‘Teen Spirit: Seattle 1990-1995’ by Mark Jefferson. Let’s try…’Mark Jefferson’,” she said. Another list of results popped up. Catalina suddenly felt her heart drop to her stomach. “Holy fuck!” she gasped.

“What is it?”

“‘Local Blackwell Academy Teacher Found Dead On Prescott Farm’.”

“Shit, I think I’ve heard about that! Girls used to talk about it in my History class. Apparently, he’d drug and kidnap chicks and take them down to this place he called the ‘Dark Room’ and do these creepy photo shoots of them all tied up. Wanna check the catalogue?”

“Yeah.” Catalina typed it into the program and found the appropriate number. “Okay, should be in a box labeled ‘J-1015-13’. Says it has several articles, along with his book.”

“I’m on it.” Santiago stooped down in the back right corner of the room and began shuffling through files. “Let’s see, Jefferson you bastard, where are you…ah, found it!”

“Damn, it gets worse,” Cat said. “‘Missing Daughter of Local DA Found Dead In Junkyard.’ Rachel Amber…” she trailed off, scrolling through more online articles. “This was a few months before they found that ‘Dark Room’ of his. Then all the weird shit started going down…”  

“You gonna come check this out or what?”

“Yeah,” Catalina replied, heading over to the table in the center of the room. Santiago had already laid out several newspaper clippings and red binders, along with the Teen Spirit book. At first, she assumed the binders were full of protector sheets for old documents. Then she noticed the names on the spines. Kelly. Lynn. Kate. Rachel. She picked up Rachel’s and opened it. Numerous photos abounded of the girl tied up and posed in a variety of positions with a glossy, faraway look in her eyes. The final appeared to be of her lifeless body entrenched in a pit of dirt. “Oh my god!” Cat shrieked, throwing it back down and covering her mouth.

“You okay?”

“No!” the girl cried, turning away. “Jesus Christ! What would a school even be doing with this shit?” She paused to catch her breath, then whirled back around and snatched the Teen Spirit  book off the table to flip through it. “And this…how?! How could anyone call this art and not see the signs of this sick bastard!”

“Um, Cat…” Santiago shuddered, removing a blue binder from the box. "Better take a look at this one." He turned it to show her the name on the spine. Emily Wyatt. Catalina ripped it out of his hands and set it down to start digging in. They were photographs, but not from a shoot. All of them were distance shots of her walking downtown and had associated dates and a sheet of timestamps.

“February sixth. May fifteenth. July…August…November...all from 2013. Think this was his?"

"I don't know."

"Someone was stalking her,” Catalina gasped. “She was killed in that car accident a year later!” She shuffled forward through the plastic protector pages until she got to the last one. “‘For Mark...your friend, Nick’,” she scowled, removing a yellow Post-It note stuck to the last one. “Who else do we know with that name?”

“Fuck!” Santiago slapped his hand down on the table. “The deputy sheriff!”

“She must have been on to Jefferson when she was at Blackwell. Or involved in his Dark Room somehow. Now we know why they never solved her case,” the girl sighed sadly, shaking her head in disbelief. She closed the binder. “Let’s not tell Chris.”

“Are you serious right now? This is hard evidence!”

“And Nick is a cop! I'm sure that'll go far," she rolled her eyes. "Besides," Cat crossed her arms, "I’m not going to change what I did. If Chris finds out, it will undo everything I pretty much went through hell to fix. He’ll go straight for those guns again. If it’s not the school, it’ll be the police precinct. Anyway…doesn’t matter. Him and his mom are both free now. What does matter is this girl, Rachel Amber.”     

“Okay…what’s that got to do with the storm?”

“I’m getting there,” the girl assured him, returning to her spot at the computer. “So I found this site called ‘BlackwellTruth.org’. Apparently, this is when all sorts of weird shit started happening at the academy. First, Rachel went missing. A bunch of girls got roofied at parties held by the Vortex Club, then there was an incident where a boy took a gun to school and tried shooting someone. Nathan Prescott,” Cat whispered. “San, that’s it!” she exclaimed excitedly, pulling up a picture of him. “This is the guy I saw in my vision.”

“Holy shit,” the boy grinned. “So you think the bullet-”

“It had to have come from his gun! Let’s see, who did you shoot,” she muttered. “‘The lone witness, eighteen year-old Maxine Caulfield, stated she had made a complaint to school staff which went unacknowledged at the time. She was in the women’s bathroom when the incident occurred. Nathan Prescott, a fellow student, entered the room brandishing a pistol--Arcadia Machine & Tool 'Hardballer' model .45. She hid around the corner out of sight and described his demeanor as delirious and disturbed. When former student Chloe Price entered, things began to escalate. Maxine was able to activate the school’s alarm system, thereby allowing Price enough time to escape.’ What?” Catalina gasped. “This doesn’t make any sense!”

“What do you mean?”

“In my vision, I…Chloe…was shot! She died. ‘Max, you can’t save her…’”

“You lost me.”

“Okay, this is really fucked up,” Cat trembled, backing away from the computer to face him. “I heard something, just after my meeting with Emily. Voices.”

“You mean ‘Mantroid’?”

“Yes…no! That was something completely different, I fixed that-”

“Make it make sense, Cat!” Santiago insisted.

“Okay, so…” the girl rose and paced around, doing her damnedest to figure it out. “I saw Emily, right? But in that reality, Arcadia Bay still existed, which means there was no storm.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Something caused it, Santiago! Something that wasn’t supposed to happen. It's called chaos theory. Because one small thing changed, all this crazy shit started going down. There’s reports of snow, whales washed up on the beach, a sighting of two full moons, and then finally, this thing comes along and wipes the entire town off the map? And to top it all off, two girls were missing from the census of the dead they took after that storm. What’s the one event that could’ve led to all that?”

“No lo sé.”

“Eres tan despistado!” she rolled her eyes. “It’s another branch. Chloe was supposed to die. And from the voices I heard just before I woke up, I think it has something to do with her friend Max. For whatever reason, Chloe didn’t die, and so we’re left with nothing but this!” she spat, slamming the bullet down on the computer desk. “Don’t you get it? This proves it! That the other reality was right. It proves…I’m not supposed to be here. Or one of us isn't...”

“What?” Santiago gasped, worried. “Cat, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying the universe wants a life. And I think it’s mine,” she shuddered. “Things have to balance out somehow. Why else would that bullet come out of me? And I keep seeing these butterflies, and…Daniel's vision was right all along,” she swallowed.

“Right about what? What vision?” She couldn’t tell him. “Cat, talk to me!”

“I, um…I think I’m done here,” she whimpered, leaving the bullet behind. “I’ll…I'll see you at home tonight, okay? I have to go.”

“Cat, wait…CAT!”

But she had already moved for the door and tore her way through, rushing out of the library in tears of shock. No matter how much she’d said earlier that she was prepared to die in pursuit of the truth, nothing could have prepared her for the stark realization that it was actually meant to happen. Not because of anything she herself had done. Not by chance, coincidence, or some random accident. But because someone else had meddled with the laws of the universe long before her.

Emily had been right about one thing, at least.

No one could escape Arcadia Bay forever.

Chapter Text

Later that night, Catalina lay at the end of the couch, legs resting across Santiago’s lap as they watched Donnie Darko together in the darkness of their living room. Her poor cousin had done his best to console her with a movie night after her meltdown at school that afternoon. So far, his choice of film wasn't helping. The boy on the TV screen was stuck in a daze, staring at himself in the mirror as Frank’s voice elicited a terrifying smile from him. Then came the knife, followed by repeated stabbings at the reflective surface, as if he were trying to escape some dimension he knew he didn’t belong in. Cat yawned at the overdramatics, though she felt her heart pound. She looked to the Mega Monster she’d been drinking on the coffee table for a solid explanation. Or maybe Donnie up there hits way too close to home, she thought.

“This movie kinda sucks,” Cat sighed.

“Are you kidding? It’s a modern classic!”

“I know.” She reached for the Monster. “Still sucks. But then again, you’re not the one who doesn’t belong here, right? At least Donnie has the creepy bunny following him around.”

“Cat, stop.” Santiago looked upset, then shrugged. “Okay, I’ll admit maybe this wasn’t the best movie choice.”

“Get a bunny costume and we’ll call it even,” she chuckled. “Should’ve picked The Butterfly Effect, though. I like that one.”   

“Seriously? I didn’t pick that ‘cause I thought it would freak you out!”

“Ashton Kutcher’s a total babe,” she beamed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Gyllenhal’s cute too, but. Boy doesn’t have the same charisma.”

“I’m totally hotter than Ashton anyway,” Santiago yawned. Cat kicked him in the thigh as she laughed.

“In your dreams!" she giggled. "But not like you have much competition. Pretty sure he’s old as fuck now.”

“True.”

She hesitated a moment. “I’ll never get old.”

“Catalina…” the boy sighed, gazing over at her. She found his stare a bit unsettling and looked back at the television to ignore it, but his eyes kept lingering. Cat knew what it was about. She had upset him more deeply than she’d intended, but what more was there to say? Her fate was sealed, and for better or worse, it was something she alone had to shoulder the weight of. The sooner she got comfortable with that, the easier it would be. Just maybe not for everyone else. “Come here,” Santiago said, patting his leg.

“What?”

“Lie down.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she forced a smile, willing herself to change positions and rest her head in his lap. But the moment she did, she immediately got the sense it was something she needed. As they continued watching the movie together in silence, her cousin held her close and began stroking her hair. Cat felt like crying. Having such affection displayed by family members was not something she was used to in all her time living there, and certainly not from him. But over the months, Santiago seemed to be the only one doing his best to understand her and her power. She managed to hold back her tears until the movie ended. Then she buried her face in his lap.

“Hey…hey, what’s wrong?” the boy asked.

“No quiero ir,” she whimpered.

“Shhh, hey…no estás solo, yeah?” He held her tighter.

“But I don’t know what’s going to happen! What if I-”

“Shh, don’t even think like that,” he said quietly, kissing her head. “You hear me? I got you, no matter what. Lo prometo.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, clutching his hand close to her heart.

“And stop this fatalistic crap. You’re stronger thank you think, you know? You’re Catalina Garcia. No matter where you came from…you’re still my badass cousin,” he smiled. “Always remember that. You’ll figure a way out of this shit, all right? You always do. I mean sure, you might be a little crazy,” he chuckled. “But it’s what makes you awesome, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You got this.”

“Yeah,” she said, sitting up beside him. “I really hope so. Gracias, primo.” Cat reached for the Monster again and finished it off. “Anyways, I think I’ll get to bed.”

“After you just drank that? You’ll be bouncing off the walls!” Santiago laughed.

“Eh, it helps me think. Have a few more dots to connect before I doze off anyway.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Not unless you feel like wading through my sea of sticky notes.”

“Yeah, think I’ll pass,” he smirked. “My brain’s still fried from today. Buenas noches, prima. And don’t forget what I said.”

“I won’t. Night,” the girl smiled, kissing his cheek.

As Catalina plodded up to her bedroom and plopped down on her bed in the dark, she still felt consumed by an ocean of thoughts. Truth be told, she was feeling a little burned out too. Under normal circumstances, she could sort it all out. But after her sudden vision that morning in the bathroom, the bullet, meeting Chris’s mother, and learning what was surely Arcadia Bay’s darkest secret, she found herself far more worn out than usual. Life went on after all, with or without her presence. If there was one fact she could take comfort in, however, it was the knowledge that she was still needed. And so long as that remained true—and blue butterflies continued to show up at random—she felt safe.

Cat turned to her nightstand, grabbing the notebook of drawings she’d started that first day of school on the bus. Most, she knew, seemed to be of memories past, already recorded or otherwise resolved. There had been some she’d wanted to approach Daniel about for some time—mainly those that looked to be in Sean’s signature style.

In one of them, a wolf with an eyepatch sat in some kind of auto shop, overlooking a hound that had a tire in its teeth. A beer bottle was positioned aside the wolf. In another, a Cocker Spaniel angrily eyed the wolf and the hound in an office as the three were surrounded by uniformed German Shepherds. Both gave her the sinking feeling that it had something to do with Sean’s life. Or worse, her father. Don’t even go there, Cat. It’s impossible. Not wanting to think about it, she quickly flipped the page to the next drawing. This was one of her own. Daniel. I almost forgot doing this in biology class.

As it turned out, all the work she’d done copying others from the visions she’d had had somehow awakened an arsenal of art skills in her. It felt a bit strange to look at her own work, being an odd mishmash heavily influenced by Sean and Chris’s styles. Still, it was an original drawing she felt proud of. It was also corny and embarrassing. I’m definitely never showing him this. Still turned out kind of cute, anyway. Hmmm. She dug out her phone and dialed Daniel’s number. After the long day she’d had, she needed a friend. The phone rang several times. Cat held her breath until the line picked up.

“I told you I don’t want to talk!” he answered angrily.

“Whoa wolf boy, chill out, it’s just me!”

“Cat! Oh my god, I’m sorry!” She heard a loud crash in the background.

“Relax, it’s cool,” she laughed. A silence came, followed by distant expletives and shuffling. “Uh, Daniel?”

“S-Sorry, I knocked over my lamp and dropped my phone. E-Everything is cool now though!”

Cat giggled. “Hope so! Gotta watch out for those pesky ghosts.”

“Well I mean, things have been a little weird around here since Dia de Muertos.”

“Whoa, say that again?”

“Uh, Dia de Muertos?” For a second, he sounded like he’d been speaking Spanish his whole life. It sent shivers down her spine, but in a good way.

“Pronunciación perfecto,” the girl smiled.

“Huh?”

“Nada,” she said quickly, ignoring the fact her heart had skipped a beat. “So uh…why’d you answer the phone all mad?”

“Ugh, my mom’s been calling me lately. Guessing she finally got out of jail for arson. N-Not that she’s bad!” he defended. “It was a long time ago. She helped me and Sean out of a bad place, but. I just…I guess I’m not really ready talk to her yet? If that makes sense. Found out some other stuff too. Long story.”

“I get it. I’ve kinda…had a rough day too.”

“Aw, what happened?”

“Long story,” she sighed, thumbing the drawing of him. “Wait, I-I don’t mean-”

“I know! We don’t have to-”

“I mean, I kinda…look, do you want to maybe talk…about stuff?” she asked.

“Like now?”

“No, I mean…well not over the phone. But maybe tomorrow, during lunch or something, just…sit down and talk.”

“Oh…y-yeah!” the boy said, as if he were trying to contain his excitement. “That’d be really cool. I kinda need it too.” Catalina heard a sudden muffled banging noise in the background. “Ugh, hold on,” he said. She heard a door creak open. “What do you want, Grandma? Yeah…yes, I know! I know…no…yes…look, I’ll finish it, I swear! I’m talking to my friend for a group bio project that’s due next week. It’s kind of important. Yes, we need to talk on the phone! Ugh. Fine.” Finally, he returned. “My grandma says I should get back to my homework now. I’m sorry.”

“Guessing she didn’t buy that,” Catalina laughed.

“She did, but she wants me to ‘prioritize’ and do my Algebra crap first. Still sucks.”

“Ooh!” Cat exclaimed, feigning excitement. “I’ve heard math is the language of the universe. Super important stuff.”

“Super LAME stuff,” Daniel scoffed. “Anyways, I’ll meet you tomorrow for lunch?”

“Definitely! Ya know, maybe I could tutor you,” she chuckled. She was half serious, anyway.

“Yeah right!” the boy laughed. “Like I could…eh, I mean, never mind!”

“It’s cool,” Cat smiled.

“Well, uh…see you tomorrow!”

“Hasta mañana.”

Cat hung up with a smile and stretched out on her bed. There were still a lot of things that bothered her, namely that her Post-It note collection that’d begun on her mirror in early summer was now sprouting branches. One of them veered off toward her closet and angled upward, reaching for the ceiling. As she looked back at the drawing of Daniel, then at the closet again, she became aware of a large shadowy movement encompassing her room. It seemed to get closer the more it danced. She quickly rolled off her bed and stepped toward the window, where a blue butterfly sat on the outside of the sill, its wings glowing in the moonlight. She smirked and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Guess I’m safe for now.”

*          *          *

Daniel nervously eyed the clock above the doorway as it ticked down the last few seconds of health class. A wave of anxiety had been brewing in the pit of his stomach all morning. He hated being back in school for the second day in a row. But after a few days of calling out sick the previous week, Claire had finally said enough and sent him back to school. It was Chris, of course. It was always Chris. He’d been terrified of running into him again ever since their fight.

But oddly enough, his now ex-boyfriend had yet to show his face, either on the bus or otherwise. Part of Daniel didn’t care. Part of him was worried something bad had happened. Especially when Chris didn’t show up to the classes they’d shared together. Man, I really hope he’s okay. But whenever he started missing him, Daniel tried to bury such thoughts with the truth. He found himself doing that a lot, whether he was solving equations in Algebra or mixing flour in Home Economics. He talked to Sean and kept it a secret from you. You can’t forgive that, can you? He was content to slog through the first half of the day that way, at least.

Then it finally happened.

Daniel caught sight of Chris just as he’d come out of health class. Shit! He quickly ducked over to a nearby water fountain to get a drink and tilted his head to keep watch. His ex stood far down the hall with a group of female photography students, dressed all in black. A long cardigan enveloped his slight frame, beneath which hung a gray shirt with a plunging neckline. A silver chain necklace with a cross graced his soft neck. His nails were painted black. It was a jarring change, but not unpleasant.

His hair was fluffy on top and dyed back to his usual blond, but the sides were buzzed. He laughed about something as he thumbed the straps of his backpack. Man. He still looks cute. One of the girls planted a kiss on Chris’s cheek, then handed him a Chock-O-Crisp with a note. The smile immediately fell from the boy’s face. He hurled the candy bar to the floor. Daniel rose back up, water dripping down his chin as he watched the aftermath in shock. Chris looked upset and stormed off in the other direction, the visibly shaken girl chasing after him.

Guess it reminds him of me. Daniel shivered and wiped droplets off his chin as he watched them round the corner, pulse pounding in his skull. He felt the sudden urge to vomit, then a ringing sensation in his ears. A sudden flash of blue came from the light above him. Seconds later, the nausea stopped, and a warm hand grasped his. He knew from that electric touch whose it was. He didn’t have the strength to squeeze back.

“Alternate realities are weird, huh?”

“Not now, Cat,” the boy breathed, plodding down the hall. It was in Chris’s direction, but he didn’t care. He needed the hall to get to lunch, and he’d be turning left anyway—not that food would help. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea for us to hang today, he thought, blinking back tears as his own plight began to mirror that of his ex. That’s kinda weird too.

“Look I’m sorry, I heard you guys broke up,” the girl said, keeping pace with him. “I get it if you don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Yeah, let's not!” Daniel frowned and charged ahead.

“So can we maybe just…hit pause and start over? Please,” she said, taking him by the hand again. Daniel felt that same electric rush as she yanked him back from his efforts to disappear into an upcoming crowd of students. He stopped in his tracks when they rounded the corner, eyes scanning for Chris. His ex was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the girl who had chased him.  

“HOW!” he demanded, tearing his hand from her grasp and facing her. “How do you just hit pause and start over?! For once, this isn’t a video game or one of your alternate realities, Catalina! It’s my life!”

“You sure about that? Look, I’ve started to notice more weird shit happening-”

“Me too!" he rolled his eyes. "Wonder whose fault that is."

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Gee, I don't know! Why would my grandma suddenly stare at herself in the mirror every morning like something's wrong? It's not just my homework, and she hasn't come down on me about that in years! Why would Lucky bark at every shadow? Why would the skull kid who's me from another reality want to give me random lectures in my room?” he frowned, charging forward.

“Okay stop, just listen…please Daniel?” she pleaded. He sighed and slowed his pace enough to listen. “I know things have been confusing ever since I came here, okay? I know that, so I’m sorry if all I do is fuck everything up! But these crazy things always happen around me, I don’t mean them to but they do, and this…whole thing where our fates seem intertwined or whatever…it scares me too, all right?” she whimpered. He stopped and looked her in the eye, knowing exactly what she meant. “But I’ve never met someone like me before,” she panted, squeezing his hand. “Okay? I just…I really need you right now. Please!”

Daniel took a deep breath and nodded as a lump rose in his throat.

“I…I feel like I need you too,” he sniffled, ignoring his racing heart. “I just…I’ve never known why. We never figured that stuff out. Like, we both have our powers, we should be understanding and help each other, I get it. But things haven’t been normal Cat, and I can’t tell if they ever will be again! Both our lives are just...complicated. Plus I fucked things up with Chris, then the skull kid gave me a lecture about it, and now…I-I don’t know,” he sighed sadly. “It’s not that I wanna be angry at you, but-”

“Are you?” she cut him off.

“No! I mean, I don't know! Just, that thing with Dia de Muertos...I guess I'm more angry at myself, because I felt-”

“I like you!” Cat blurted out. Daniel, taken aback, gasped in shock. His eyes widened. What?

“I…um…wait, r-really?” he asked nervously.

“Whoa, that just sort of came out,” the girl breathed, turning red. “Um, I…I’m just gonna head to lunch now!” she giggled, pointing down the hall. “Forget I said anything!”

“W-Wait!” Daniel chuckled, chasing after her with a spring in his step. He felt bad for it, yet was curious to know more, despite the slight twinge of resentment he felt. But what had bothered him most was the breakup, and that wasn't even Catalina's fault. He was the one keeping secrets, he reminded himself. Since when did she start liking me, anyway? From the second she met me outside of school? At the diner? Or Dia de Muertos? Man, this all feels wrong. But also…I can’t forget those visions I had of us. Should I try to protect Chris if he needs me again, or…do I follow this?

He finally caught up with her at the middle of the lunch line, where it seemed she was waiting for him. Perhaps she had known it was inevitable too, just like everything else. For a few moments, the two smiled at one another as they moved ahead with the crowd and filled their lunch trays with slices of reheated pizza, apple slices, and chocolate milks. Catalina picked out a table on the far end of the cafeteria near a window. The view of the sky was a bit dreary, giving way to a fresh rainfall. Melancholy, but nice. Daniel bit into his pizza and swallowed a few bites until he’d worked up the courage to speak again.

“So,” he breathed, noshing away.

“So…” she repeated. “Any questions?”

“Well…”

“We don’t have to talk about it, by the way,” she laughed nervously, munching on an apple slice. “I mean…us.”

“Oh! R-Right…” Daniel managed. “Look, is it okay if we just-”

“Stay friends?” she finished. “Yeah, that’s probably best.”

“For now, I mean,” the boy said. He offered his hand across the table. She squeezed it again, releasing a flock of butterflies in his stomach. “But…I do like you too. And I’m really glad we met, ya know?”

“Same,” Catalina smiled, letting go to start on her pizza. “Don’t worry, this whole ‘fate’ thing gets weird for me too.” She gazed out the window a moment, taking in the rain as it pattered over the sidewalk. “My visions, they’ve never said what happens to me. I can see a lot of things, but…not really where my own choices lead.”

Daniel reached for his unopened chocolate milk, but dropped it back on the tray as she spoke. A knot twisted his stomach. It had been quite a while since he’d thought about it, being all too eager to forget. But he remembered well the vision of her lying in a casket with a crown of marigolds on her head, wind sweeping over her silky black hair and white evening gown, skin pale as death. I have to save her. I have to stop that from happening.

“Cat,” he said worriedly, cradling himself. She looked back at him. “Um…that thing I was trying to tell you, that day we met. About you and the-”

“Can we talk about something else?” she cut him off with a forced smile. Daniel immediately felt crushed. Why isn’t she taking this seriously? “Listen, I just…I know you want to figure things out, and we will. But I’d rather not hear it, okay? Not now. I had a rough day yesterday,” she sighed. She looked troubled. “Still doesn’t feel real.”

“Well…okay,” the boy relented. “But you said you wanted to talk, right?”

“I do!” Cat assured him. “Just…about anything but people dying.” She took another bite of pizza to calm her nerves.  

“Does that even actually bother you?” Daniel raise an eyebrow, curious. “I mean, if you know people always end up somewhere else, and they’re still alive. I guess I don’t see how that can still-”

“You think I'm that cold?” she chuckled. “Of course things still scare me, dude! They still make me uncomfortable, they still…freak me out a lot.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “That makes sense. I get freaked out at myself sometimes too.”

“It’s not like I don’t get sad for people, either. Especially when you grow up wondering whether or not you’re the reason some bad shit to happened to them.”

“But it’s always their choice, right?” Daniel asked, opening his milk.

“Partially,” Cat explained. “But the second you tell someone something they didn’t already know, they tend to act on it and take fate into their own hands. Changes the whole outcome, and not always for the best. Another branch grows on the tree.”

“Whoa. Is that…how your power works? You see an actual tree?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Kind of. When I connect with someone, my heart just…melts, and I feel this warmth come over me like a blanket. If they're nice, anyway. Then I find their branch, and it feels like something grows in both of us. Hard to describe. How about you?”

Daniel shifted in his seat, cracking his knuckles. He had an idea. Let’s see if this makes her smile.

“Well, my hands kinda tingle sometimes when I’m about to move something. Feel this itch inside my head at first. Then,” he said excitedly, levitating an apple slice from her tray and firing it into his mouth. “Sweetness!” The boy grinned as he chomped into it. Juice exploded in his mouth and dripped down his chin. Catalina cracked up, but surveyed the cafeteria to be sure no one saw them.

“You’re so fucking corny and reckless!” she laughed.

“I’m awesome possum,” Daniel beamed. For the first time since they’d spoken that day, he was beginning to feel confident. “Don’t worry, no one saw.”

“Okay, I guess that was kinda cute,” Cat admitted, holding his hand again. Daniel jerked his leg, feeling a downward rush of blood to the most embarrassing place. Shit.

“Um, so!” he exclaimed. “H-How’s the weather?” Catalina laughed again. I could listen to that laugh for the rest of my life.

“Well, luckily we’re sitting near this fancy-ass window here,” she pointed out. “Low of thirty-five, high of fifty. Rainy as fuck. Nice view though, yeah?”

“Oh! Y-Yeah. Nice view,” he smirked, stealing a glance at her chest. Ugh, what’s wrong with me…

His gaze quickly turned to the window where, out in the walled garden area, two blue butterflies danced among the tulips. A sudden boom of thunder sounded overhead, followed by a downpour of rain on the metal roof high above. The ambient rush of noise silenced much of the cafeteria crowd that surrounded them. Catalina smiled and tightened her grasp on his hand, as if to say ‘I’ll never let go of this moment’. Daniel would never let go, either.

Maybe that’s why she…

*          *          *

It was a little after one in the afternoon when Chris exited his ride and dashed through torrential rains back up the hill to his house. He hated relying on his father’s co-worker to pick him up from school, but he refused to take an Uber or taxi home after that horrible hookup experience with a stranger. He was also worried. He had tried texting his father at lunchtime just to check on him, being that he was still in recovery mode. The man hadn’t answered, and it was his day off. I’m just lucky Jon was there to scoop me on his way home.

Chris nearly dropped his keys at the door as he wrestled them from his pocket. He had every reason to be nervous. Either something bad had happened, in which case he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it without involving Daniel or the Reynolds. Or his dad was back on his usual bender—not that he could handle that too well either, but at least he was used to it.

“Okay breathe, just breathe,” Chris breathed, taking a second to center himself. He mustered up as much of his ‘Captain Spirit’ strength as he could to face whatever came next. “Everybody in position,” he whispered, closing his eyes while listening to the rainfall. “Power Bear, Forest Warrior, Mar-T Rex, Sky Pirate. Power Bear, Forest Warrior, Mar-T Rex, Sky Pirate.” It was a mantra he often repeated when he was under a great deal of stress. When he felt ready, he shakily reached for the knob and opened the door.

“Dad?” he called. No answer. His truck was in the driveway, so he had to be home. “Dad, you here?” Chris stepped through into the living room. Maybe he’s passed out on the couch? But the room was empty, and TV was off. The odd silence in the house was uncomfortable. It reminded him of the time he’d come home with his grandfather while his dad was at a clinic. Maybe that’s where he still belongs. Chris paced back toward the kitchen. Nothing there either. An empty plastic water bottle went sliding across the tile as he accidentally kicked it. Chopped vegetables sat out on the counter. At least he’d trying hard. Then he noticed a knife laying on the floor. What’s going on? A faint groan game from the direction of his room.

“Dad!” Chris called again, rushing over to the split section of doors. The bathroom’s was slightly ajar. He immediately pushed it open. His mouth dropped open. “DAD!” the boy shrieked in horror.

His father lay collapsed face down next to the bathtub. Chris immediately knelt and shook him. “Dad, what happened?!” he panicked. His eyes fell to the tub, where a bloody smear sat on the edge and led downward. Pinkish-colored vomit lined the interior. Did he hit his head? The man grunted. “Dad, please get up!” Chris cried, struggling to roll him over on his side. That’s when he noticed a large bloody gash on his forehead. His father began to shake in a series of violent convulsions. FUCK he’s having a seizure! Chris backed away and dug out his phone, dialing 911. The line rang twice before a female operator picked up.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“This is Chris Eriksen, 114 Evergreen Street, Beaver Creek!” he rasped. “My dad hit his head on the bathtub and he’s having a seizure!”

“Okay, is he bleeding?”

“Yes…no! Uh, I-I think so,” he said frantically, leaning forward to check. “Yeah, it looks like a gash! I rolled him on his side before.”

“All right. First Chris, I need you to keep him as still as you can until the seizure ends to make sure he doesn’t hit his head on anything else. Can you do that?”

“Y-Yeah, but…o-okay!” he breathed, gripping his father’s shoulder tight. Tears streamed down his face as his father’s vibrations rattled his skinny arm. He felt completely powerless. I wish Daniel was here. I miss him, I love him, I NEED him right now!

“You still with me Chris?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay, good. Is he starting to settle down at all?”

“Uh, hold up,” the boy said, squeezing his eyes shut to focus. The convulsions were beginning to slow. “Yes, he’s…I think he’s coming out of it!”

“All right. When it stops, you just let me know. Seizures only last about thirty seconds to two minutes, so just hold him steady.”

“O-Okay,” Chris said, taking a deep breath to slow his own heart rate. He waited in the crushing silence about ten seconds before his father finally stopped seizing. “All right, I think it’s over!”

“Good. Now I just need you to elevate his head, but be gentle and DO NOT move him, okay?”

“Okay! Uh, what should I use?” he asked, eyes frantically scanning the bathroom.

“Do you have a couple towels handy, a pillow, anything?”   

“Uh, I got towels!” he said, moving for the cabinet aside the tub and digging out four folded ones. He shouldered the phone as he got to work, carefully placing them beneath his father’s head. Strings of vomit and red saliva dripped from his mouth. A trail of blood cascaded down the man’s face. “W-What now?” he stammered.

“Okay, next if you have sterile gauze or cloth, I need you to apply pressure to the wound.”

“But are you calling an ambulance, or-”

“Yes, but right now I need you to do as I say and just stay with me, okay?”

“Right! I-I’m sorry, I…okay,” he breathed. Summoning up the last of his courage, Chris grabbed the edge of the clean white towel and held it tight against his father’s head. “Applying pressure now…”

“Good. Just keep breathing for me, all right buddy? It’s going to be okay, Chris. I’m sending an ambulance out now, but first I need a little more information so they can help, all right?”

“O-Okay!”

“Can you describe how you found him?”

“I just got home from school, he was face down in the bathroom.”

“Has he ever fallen or had a seizure before that you know of?”

“He’s uh, fallen a few times,” Chris swallowed. “H-He’s an alcoholic, so…yeah.” Great, he thought. I just sold my dad out. Now they’re gonna ask a shit ton of questions and try to put me in foster care.

“All right. And has he been trying to stop drinking?”

“Yeah, m-maybe two days ago…are they coming now?” the boy whimpered.

“Paramedics are on their way, but stay on the line with me, okay?”

“Please hurry!” he cried. “I’m so scared!”

Chapter Text

Daniel couldn’t stop smiling for the entire bus ride home from school. So much so, that his cheeks were beginning to hurt. He felt stupid for being reduced to a pile of mush, but he was happy. Catalina sat beside him in their usual seat next to the window, a position Chris had once occupied. There was still so much to process. It felt a little strange. Actually, a lot strange. But his mind was no longer on the absence of his ex-boyfriend. It was on the warm feeling of Cat’s lips pressed to his left cheek.

She had kissed him before they got on the bus. A friendly gesture maybe, but. She had held his hands in hers as she did so. Man, I’m kinda confused, he thought. Both of them had talked about staying friends over lunch, so why did it feel like things were moving in a direction he wasn’t ready for? So far, Daniel had made less moves than her on his feelings. He hated to think she was coming off as desperate. In fact, he was quite wary about that himself. But something seemed off about her, and not just in some alternate dimension, timey-wimey way. I just hope she’s okay. And it still bothered him that she didn’t seem to want to talk about his prior visions yet.  

All of that soon left his mind, however, as the bus rounded the corner of Evergreen and pulled up next to his house. A black car was parked outside in the driveway. Shit, not this again. He looked nervously back at Catalina, who seemed to have the same shocked expression on her face. Suddenly, he didn’t want to leave the bus. Daniel closed his eyes with a sigh, grasping his backpack tight.

“Let me guess,” Cat breathed. “Federales?”

“Si,” he managed, trying to hide his panic for her sake. He thought of asking if he could stay at her house until they left, but that would be a dick move. She certainly didn’t need a target on her back, considering her past. Besides, the whole reason he’d left his brother in the first place was because he was tired of running from the law…right?

“Just go,” she insisted. “I’ll call you later.” She sounded nervous, though her expression remained blank.

“Um…okay,” he replied, holding her hand. “Are you sure you’re gonna be all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, but…I don’t want to lose you!” Daniel trembled. “W-What if they get ICE-”

“They won’t. And you won’t lose me,” she said, kissing his hand. “Promise.”

“Kid, you getting off or what?” The bus driver was growing impatient. Daniel ignored him.

“Okay…but I hate promises, Cat!” He frowned through tears as he stood and stormed down the walkway, nearly tripping down the stairs as he got off. It reminded him of all the times Sean had made promises to him. Promising he’d never lie again, promising things would get better. Promising his eye was okay, that Daniel hadn’t hurt him. Promising he’d always be there, only to end up shot at the—wait a second. Why do I suddenly feel like he’s gone? Daniel shuddered as the bus hissed and drove away inches from his face, leaving him with nothing but the haunting view of his house in the drizzling rain. Probably one of El Lobo’s memories, he realized. Shaking off the momentary disorientation, he took a deep breath and plodded across the street.

As he stepped up to the porch, he thought of bailing again. That was strange, too. The older he got, the more he felt possessed by a sudden urge to run, to just leave Beaver Creek behind and never look back. At first, he’d thought it might be the tension he experienced with his grandparents or Chris, maybe even the fact Sean was no longer in his life. Or maybe it’s because I’m getting to the age he was when we left Seattle. Stop thinking about that! He took a deep breath to steady himself, then opened the door. As always, his dog Lucky bounded over to greet him.

“Hey girl,” he sniffled, smiling as he pet her and took off his shoes. “Who’s a good girl? You hungry?”

“Daniel!” Claire called. “Someone’s here to see you in the kitchen!”

“Be right there Grandma!” Brushing wet strands of hair from his face, he dug out his phone to shoot Cat a quick message.

< Hey, let me know when you’re home, ok? Text you when I find out what’s up.

He hit send and shoved it back in his pocket, heading over to the kitchen. When he rounded the corner, a familiar face greeted him at the counter. Agent Michaels. Great. Can’t wait.

“Hey kiddo,” the young man smiled, sipping from a red mug of coffee Claire had handed him. Daniel rolled his eyes and squatted down in the corner to fill Lucky’s bowl with food. He needed all the distractions he could get.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Excuse me!" Claire scolded. “That’s no way to speak to a guest! I apologize, Agent Michaels. He’s just been a little-”

“Stressed?!” the boy cut her off. “Gee, maybe because every time one of you guys show up, you just make things worse! It’s been four years, dude! Why can’t you people just stay the hell out of my life already?! Grandma, I can't believe you let him in!"

"He's from the FBI, Daniel! What do you expect me to do, kick him out?"

"YES!"

"Oh for heaven's sake-"

"You need to put your foot down, because I know it stresses you out too!"

Claire only sighed in response.

"And you know how much shit I've gone through the past few years!" Daniel continued. "Why can't you just be on my side for once?"

"I am on your side, Daniel!"

"No you're not!"

"Well you don't exactly make it easy with your attitude, mister!"

“Okay okay, listen!" Michaels interjected, trying to reassure them. "I swear I'm not here to bother you guys."

Daniel stood and crossed his arms. He didn't buy it. “Yeah, so why are you here?” he fired. “There’s always some kind of catch!”

“Daniel,” the agent sighed, taking a deep breath before addressing his grandmother. “Mrs. Reynolds,” he said sympathetically. “You mind if we take a quick walk?”

“YES I mind!” Daniel snapped. Claire eyed him scornfully as she dried off a dinner plate. He could tell there was a lot she wanted to say, but for whatever reason, she held back. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. But the more her eyes burned through him like hot coals, the more he understood the reason. She trusts me to make my own decisions and calm down without her lecturing me, he thought. “I mean…fine, yeah, whatever,” he finally huffed. “I guess we can.”

“And?” Claire added, putting the plate away in the cabinet.

“And sorry for overreacting,” Daniel muttered. “Won’t happen again.”

“That’s better,” his grandmother nodded. He cringed inwardly at her remarks of approval. He didn’t need her judgment. Especially since there was a lot she was clearly unaware of. Maybe I’ll tell her someday. Or not.

“Great,” Michaels said, faking a smile. He seemed just as put off by Claire as Daniel was. “Well thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Oh, you're always welcome,” she replied. “You two can go get some fresh air, though I wouldn’t stay out too long in this rain. More thunderstorms are coming around five. And be sure you take the umbrella, Daniel.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry, it's not like I didn't walk here through a snowstorm when I was nine,” he muttered.

“Lord, don’t remind me,” Claire sighed. “Just take care of yourself out there.”

“I will,” Daniel nodded. “We won’t be long.”

*          *          *

Several minutes later, the boy and the agent had made a left off Evergreen Street and headed up the steep hill, bound for the forest trail. Daniel felt odd to be going up there again, considering his last time had been with Chris. In fact, it seemed all of the good, most treasured memories he’d had thus far in Beaver Creek were slowly getting overwritten by new experiences as time went on. He wasn’t yet sure what to make of it, but it felt much like being on the road again, and that scared him more than the coming storms.

Daniel also secretly wondered if that’s what it was like for all his prior acquaintances in life; certainly, they had moved on with their own lives too, forgotten all about him and Sean. There was no Lyla. There was no Noah. There was no Brody, or Finn, Penny, Jacob, or Cassidy. There was no Sean. Worst of all lately, there was no Chris.

Lucky yanked ahead of the pair, eagerly sniffing along the side of the road as they went. Michaels kept a firm grip on the umbrella while Daniel, sweatshirt hood up, kept a firm grip on the leash. Neither of them had yet spoken a word to each other. In some ways, Daniel relished that. Maybe if I just stay quiet, he’ll leave me alone. Unless he’s waiting for me to say something first. It felt like another trap. But as they made the turn onto the trail, it was the agent who took the initiative.

“Listen, Daniel…I know you have every reason not to trust me after last year,” the young man said.

“Ya think?” he rolled his eyes. “We’ve kinda known each other for what, four years? I still don’t even know your first name.”

“That’s because I hate it,” the agent chuckled.

“So? I don’t give a shit.”

“Well…it’s George. Like the singer.”

“What singer?”

“You seriously don’t know who George Michael is?” Daniel shook his head. “Eh, I guess it’s before your time. Famous guy in the eighties, my mother named me after him. Used to get so much shit for it in school. Always wanted to change it, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“I’ve heard worse. It’s not a bad name.”

“Yeah, I guess it isn’t so much anymore,” George smirked. “Well hey, now that you know my embarrassing little secret, does that mean you trust-”

“No,” Daniel cut him off.

“Got it." The agent paused before continuing his train of thought. "Still...names can be complicated, right? They're meant to stick with us our whole lives, but for some people, they just remind them of the past. Who they were, or where they were. Too many painful memories whenever they hear it. I'm actually a little surprised you never wanted to change yours."

Daniel thought it over a moment. Flores had offered him that chance once, but he'd quickly turned it down.

"Well," he sighed, "Sean told me something important that day at the border. 'No matter what happens, always remember that you're Daniel Diaz'. So...I guess I just never wanted to change it because that's who I am, ya know? Means a lot to me. I don't want to forget. Plus I figured since we were separated, it'd be easier for him to find me, just in case...I ever move or something."

"You're not freaked out about people Googling you?"

"They've been doing that for years. Used to get to me, but I don't really care anymore. I'm pretty much yesterday's news anyway."

The two continued on up the muddy trail in relative silence, stepping over loose branches and twigs as they went. An array of deep earthen smells crept up from the ground. Now and then, the occasional woodpecker could be heard in the distant trees, while raccoons skittered noisily through the brush and squirrels bounded from tree to tree. Daniel even caught sight of a hawk flying overhead.

The boy glanced up at Michaels as they made their way to the fallen old tree trunk that had previously served as a bench for him and Chris. The young agent appeared nervous. Sweat gathered at his collar, as if he were holding something back. Weird, Daniel thought as they at last sat down. I’m the one who should be nervous.

“So…how’s school been treating you?”

“It’s all right I guess,” the boy shrugged. “Could be better.”

“In what ways?”

Daniel was getting annoyed, but resolved to open up anyway. Maybe it’ll get him off my ass.

“I don’t know. Just sucks. Teachers and assignments stressing me out. So does Claire lately. I also kinda broke up with Chris after he lied to me, but it's whatever. There’s someone new I like anyways.”

“Player, huh?” Michaels chuckled.

“Shut up!” Daniel giggled, fiddling with the dog's leash. He barely noticed how quickly time had passed. It still bothered him. “I mean, it’s not like I’m trying to be. Things just happened really fast, and it’s all…kinda complicated.”

“So this new person, are they a boy or a girl?”

“Girl,” he smiled. His cheeks flushed again. “She’s beautiful and smart, and we connect on a lot of stuff. Both of us have crazy pasts, I guess. Feels good to have someone to talk to about it. She understands me a little better than Chris could.”

“That sounds cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“So what’s her name?”

“Oh, it's-” Daniel stopped himself short. The smile fell from his face. His breath caught in his throat. He felt the agent’s expectant eyes on him, but he didn’t look back. Man, I have a big mouth! Just shut the hell up dude! Do you want ICE to come after her?! This is exactly what he wants. Daniel frowned. “Look, why should I tell you anything about my personal life?”   

“Didn't say you had to. Just making conversation,” the man swallowed. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for several moments, followed by a rumble of thunder in the distance. Daniel grasped at the pocket of his jeans to be sure his phone was still there. His heart thudded in his chest.

“You’re lying,” the boy huffed, stepping to his feet. "I know you are." He briefly surveyed the forest trail to be sure they were alone. Michaels stayed put.

“Parker asked me to come back to check on you, okay? We just want to be sure you’re safe,” the agent explained. “That’s all.”

“Safe from what?! I don’t need your protection,” Daniel said, facing him as that familiar itch nagged at the front of his skull. “Neither do my friends! So what the hell are you really doing here, asshole? And you better tell me the truth!”

“Now wait just a second,” the agent said. His eyes darted frantically around for an exit as Daniel stepped forward in challenge, a cornered wolf ready to strike. Lucky whimpered at his side and backed away behind him. Michaels tossed down the umbrella and stood. The young wolf kept his distance. “There’s a lot more at stake here than you realize.”

“Then you better start talking, George,” Daniel scowled, throwing his hand up. “Now!” Water droplets halted mid-air in front of his face and sharpened into icy pins. Whoa. That’s new.    

“Okay…all right, just chill out!” the agent relented, raising his arms in surrender. “You remember that drug investigation I told you about in Portland, and how we pulled out of Beaver Creek last year?”

“Yeah. You guys wanted to see if any drugs would pass through town.”

“Well…it's been over a year, and they still haven't. Unless you’ve heard of anyone selling at your school, or-”

“All the kids sell is weed!” Daniel cut him off. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“Flores and I questioned that hitman who attacked your friend last year. He admitted his boss wanted the FBI out of town for other reasons. Something about protecting an investment unrelated to drugs. We still don’t know what that investment-”

“Bullshit you don’t!” Daniel snapped, taking a step further. “Why else would they want me dead? Why come after me? What are they trying to protect?!” More rain droplets turned to sharpened bullets at the back of the agent’s head.

“Uh…I don’t know,” the man breathed, staring at the spikes encircling his neck.

“Stop lying!”

“It’s classified! Look, I promise we have a plan in place,” Michaels winced as the icy needles dug into the back of his neck. “There’s a bait car filled with drugs on its way up to Beaver Creek right now. Hoping we get some bites to shut the whole thing down. In the meantime, I’m here to be sure no one fucks with you or your family! Listen Daniel, you don’t even-”

“I told you I’d do whatever I have to to protect my friends!” he seethed, letting go of the dog’s leash. “Especially if it’s from people like you. Look what happened last time! You just…fuck everything up!”

“We’re not the enemy, okay? I want to protect you too!” Michaels insisted, raising his voice as a swirling vortex of icicles enveloped him like an iron maiden.

“No you don’t!” the boy shouted. “I can take care of myself.” Daniel tightened his psychic grip. The man’s body went rigid and floated upward. Lucky cowered and scampered over behind a nearby tree. Daniel felt himself losing control with every passing second, a rage that pulsed strong through his veins and dug into the marrow of his bones. He planted his feet to avoid taking another step. Every muscle in his body ached to hold that position, but if he didn’t, the man’s neck would snap.

“Stop…please….you’re hurting me!” the agent choked, his feeble body trembling in the air.

Shit. Come on, Enano, Daniel thought, recalling his brother’s voice. This isn’t you. Don’t feed the beast. You got this. He took a deep breath to steady himself, closed his eyes, and let go at last. A shower of frozen diamonds rained down before him and pattered softly over the tree trunk, much like the morning drizzle on Sean’s tent back in Humboldt. Michaels collapsed, heaving in a crumpled heap on the muddy ground. The boy doubled back in shame. He hated when it came to this, and yet it always did. The older he got, the more emotional he got. And the more emotional he got, the more he lost control of his powers. And when he lost control of his powers…he lost control of himself. That had always been his worst nightmare on the way to Beaver Creek. To be experiencing it yet again broke something within. He felt like a ten year-old child again.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel cried with a sniffle, gazing down at the agent’s shivering ragdoll body. “But I know what you’re trying to do, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you take her away from me!”

With that, Daniel scooped up his whimpering dog under one arm and charged back down the forest trail, phoning Catalina as he went.

“Hola,” she answered. “All clear?”

“No. We’ve got a major fucking problem.”  

Chapter Text

Chris was getting anxious as he trekked back to the waiting area of the ER. Three hours had come and gone without any word on his father’s condition. He had come along for the ambulance ride, of course. Upon arrival, a young female nurse gently pried him away from the gurney and rushed him off toward the lobby. ‘Everything will be okay,’ she had said. Yeah right. But there wasn’t anything else he could do.

To pass the time, Chris had gone down to the cafeteria for a quick lunch to make up for what he missed at school. He wandered aimlessly around the public halls after, hoping it might take his mind off things. It didn’t. Neither did taking a barrage of selfies for Instagram or getting back on the scoreboards in Mustard Party 2. Defeated, the boy finally returned to the ER and slumped down in one of the many uncomfortable seats to scroll through his contacts. He didn’t even know who to call. The Reynolds were a huge no, because Daniel might pick up. And Claire was annoying.

 “Grandma and Grandpa Wyatt,” he thought aloud. But I really don’t want to go back to Springwater. Or let them know Dad’s been struggling again. He thought of texting Natalie before he remembered she was out with Mariska. Lucas was too busy with a big science project for college credits. Colleen? Kevin? He’d just started talking to them in art class. But while they were nice, he felt they were a little too fresh yet to be dealing with The Chris Eriksen Shit Show.

The boy continued racking his brain for an answer.  Jesus, what other friends do I have around here? He scrolled back up, thumb hovering over Daniel’s name. I really shouldn’t, but I’m out of options. God, I miss him. Even if he is an asshole. I just need someone right now. Letting caution fly, he tapped the call button.

“What am I doing,” he muttered. “You better pick up.” Chris grit his teeth and held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, it’s Daniel! Can’t answer the phone right now, probably busy. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back!” Beep.

“Goddamn it,” Chris sighed, trying again.

“Hey, it’s Daniel! Can’t answer the-”

“Great. Straight to voicemail.” The boy dropped the phone in his lap and leaned back to gaze up at the water-stained ceiling tiles. Wish you were here. Feels like the time you left with Sean. I’m all alone again. The sudden honk of an ambulance siren at the main entrance snapped him back to reality. Chris jolted up in his seat to see an array of flashing red and white lights. The vehicle was parked just outside the sliding doors. That’s weird. Why aren’t they using the ambulance entrance? The EMT who had been driving leaped out, shouting something into a walkie strapped to his shoulder as he barged in. A cold rush of air engulfed the waiting area.

“Code Blue, emergency entrance is blocked!” he yelled.

“Understood!” the intake nurse said, relaying the message to the rest of her team. The hospital staff at the desk quickly sprang into action. “All right, move it people, we’ve got a Code Blue! All patients or family in the waiting area, please remain in your seats and keep away from the doors so we can do our job, thank you!”

Chris watched in curiosity as the paramedics slid the yellow gurney out of the ambulance and wheeled it through the airlock, spouting off vitals as they went. He tried to steal a glance at the patient strapped down, but the EMTs were blocking his view. All he could see was that it was a young girl with flowing black hair in a red plaid shirt. An oxygen mask covered her face. As the paramedics rushed her through the secure double doors of the ER unit, one of them stayed behind to relay information to the nurse. The brief flash of commotion in the room seemed to die down as quickly as it came.  

“Patient name?” the young black nurse seated at the counter asked.

“So far, Jane Doe. No wallet, no ID. Hispanic adolescent female, maybe fifteen years of age. Dispatch picked up a 911 call, someone found her unconscious near the lake. Vertical lacerations on both arms, veins punctured, probable suicide attempt. BP seventy-two over sixty-three upon arrival. Respiratory, seven. Doesn’t look good.”

“That’s a fifty-two fifty…if she makes it. Third one this week so far. Jesus,” the nurse gasped, typing up the info. “Kids go through hell these days, don’t they?”

“Yeah, it’s getting old…well hey, I’m gonna grab some lunch before I have to head out again. Fourth call today and I’m already beat. You want some coffee?”

“Oh, I’m good and toasty with my steamed milk double-shot, thanks!” the woman smiled. “But for you Scott, I recommend a good Red Bull.”

“Ain’t enough Red Bulls in the world for this job,” the man chuckled. “Though speaking of red, there’s this sweet Mustang I might test drive after work. 1970’s classic, you believe that? Springwater Sales is a goldmine.”

“Ooh nice, I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever rich enough!” the nurse laughed. “You snag that, your ass is giving me rides to work. Public VeryBus ain’t so stylish.”

“You got yourself a deal,” the paramedic smirked, heading back for the main entrance. “Enjoy the rest of your shift.”

“I’ll certainly try. Hope to god we can save this girl,” she muttered. “Lord knows we don’t need a bunch of copycats on our hands.”    

Chris’s chest felt heavy as he thought over what little information he could glean from that short interaction. Hispanic female. Adolescent. Name unknown. And she was wearing a red plaid shirt. That sounds an awful lot like Catalina. But why would she try to hurt herself? I’ve totally been there, but…shit. Does Daniel know? But just as he was about to try dialing his ex’s number for the third time, the double doors of the ER unit swung open. A young Asian doctor emerged, holding a clipboard in hand. Whoa, Chris smiled to himself. Hey, handsome.

“Christopher Eriksen?” the man called.

Guess it’s my lucky day. Let’s get this over with. The boy sighed and rose to his feet, mentally preparing himself for the worst. If his father needed extended treatment, he knew he’d end up back with his grandparents—that was, unless the Reynolds invited him to stay. But he wasn’t so sure he’d want that either, even if he was on good terms with Daniel. Part of him wanted to stay in Beaver Creek, at least to finish out the school year. This all had to happen now. Whatever.

“What’s up?” Chris asked.

“Hi, Dr. Liu, I’m in charge of your father’s care,” he said, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the boy smiled genuinely, doing his best not to check him out too much. Why are cute guys on my mind twenty-four seven? Really not the time, dude.  

“Sorry to keep you waiting, but we wanted to get him stable before we brought you back. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

The handsome doctor led Chris over to the double doors, extending his name tag to the contact plate. A rush of cool air greeted them as they made their way through into the department. Numerous patient rooms and hospital beds lined the walls in a square rectangular layout with a main desk in the center, from which all the nurses had easy access to patients. Liu guided the boy in a meandering path of turns, making an immediate right around the main desk and into a hallway that led to the ICU. They made a left, then another right at the far end, stopping just outside the open door of Room 102. It was dark inside, save for an assortment of blinking lights and a pinging heart monitor. From the looks of it, his father was fast asleep. Chris took a deep breath as the doctor went over his diagnosis.  

“So I’m sure you’re pretty shaken up after what happened,” Liu said.

“Yeah,” the boy swallowed, crossing his arms. “Scary. But kinda not surprised. My dad’s been an alcoholic for years. Sorta used to it. How bad was his blood alcohol?”

“Actually, I’d give your father credit this time,” Liu replied. “He tested zero.”

“Whoa, what?” Chris gasped. “I mean…how? He fell and hit his head! He’s always falling and fucking himself up! If it’s not that, then what’s wrong with him?”

“Severe alcohol withdrawal syndrome. For what it’s worth, we’re glad to see your father’s attempting to quit,” the doctor said. “That much is encouraging. Unfortunately, it looks like he tried to stop a little too quick. Long bouts of heavy drinking rewire the pathways in the brain, leading to a chemical dependency. If you cut yourself off too fast, the brain doesn’t know what to do and pushes the body into withdrawal, same as with any other drug.”

“Yeah, I kinda knew that. Just never saw him this bad,” Chris breathed, glancing at his sleeping father. “So that’s what caused the seizure?”

“We think so,” Liu nodded. “And we’re lucky he got here when he did. From the looks of it, your father’s experiencing what we call ‘delirium tremens’, or DTs for short. Happens to about ten percent of all alcoholics within about three days of their last drink. Shakiness, sweating, irregular heartbeat, confusion are all classic signs. Seizures and hallucinations follow. Left untreated, it can be fatal.”

“Shit,” Chris gasped, biting his lower lip. He felt frustrated. And scared. Days after his father finally made a solid effort to repair the rift that had existed between them for years, and there had to be one more curve ball? It wasn’t fair. “So…what’s the good news?”

“Good news is, I think he’ll be okay,” Liu assured him. “We’ve been pumping him full of vitamins, gave him an anticonvulsant and a valium. But your father does need professional treatment to beat this. Medically assisted detox is always the best route. As for the head injury, we gave him stitches. He has a mild concussion, but I don’t foresee any problems going forward as long as he takes it easy for a few days. However…the first priority is getting him into extended treatment. I can’t stress that enough.”

“Yeah, but we’ve tried that. Can’t you just give him, like…pills or something and send him home? I can take care of him myself, dude! I’ve been doing it for…”

Chris stopped as Liu crossed his arms and adjusted his stance with a sigh, flashing a look that said ‘do you really want to go there’. And that was always the hardest part for Chris—admitting he couldn’t do it alone, either. His father’s addiction had warped his own sense of self-worth so much over the years that he had to be the one providing all the help, tempering things, making sure everything was okay. The only person Chris often felt incapable of looking after was himself. And Liu was right. If he took his father home now, chances were high he’d relapse again. Do I really want that on my conscience?

“I get it,” Chris whimpered. “It’s just these past couple days have been so great for us, you know?” Liu appeared sympathetic.

“I understand. Look, Chris…I can tell you’re a very brave kid,” the man said. “Having an alcoholic parent is rough. You’ve dealt with things that no child should ever have to. And sure, maybe your strength has been enough to carry your dad this far. I’m not saying support isn’t important, and he certainly needs it in his recovery. But you should also know that sometimes…it’s okay not to be brave. You deserve support, too.”

Chris broke down. He understood what the man meant. Liu seemed to shy away from using the term ‘enabling’, but part of him knew his own behaviors in the matter had never helped. After all, if he kept supporting his father in the same ways he always had—doing the adult work like fixing the water heater, doing their laundry, making sure he got to work on time, fixing their meals—what reason would Charles ever have to change? What reasons would Chris Eriksen have to change? Maybe we do need to be away from each other until he gets better. For the millionth time. God, I hate this. I hate it so much!

“I just…don’t what to do anymore,” the boy sniffled, calming down. “Ever since my mom died, it’s always just been us. Feels I have no one else.” Liu quickly snatched a few tissues from the end of the nurse’s desk for him.

“Do you have family or friends you could stay with while he’s in treatment?”

“Yeah…I mean, my grandparents live in Springwater,” he sighed. “They’ve always taken care of me when things get really bad. Just kinda hate it up there. Gets boring as hell.” Liu smiled and set a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I think you’re going to be okay, you know?”

“Thanks,” Chris replied. “I hope so.”

“Well hey, I should give you and your father some time while I check in on my other patients,” the doctor said. “I’ll be back around in a bit to get his consent for treatment when he wakes up. In the meantime, you can stick around as long as you want. We won’t kick you out.”

“Sounds good. And thanks again,” Chris smiled, shaking his hand.

“No problem, it’s what we do.”

As the doctor left, Chris took a deep breath to steady himself before heading into the darkened room. He immediately crinkled his nose on entry. The air smelled weird and extra-hospital like. It was also eerily quiet, save for the constant ping of the heart monitor, a sound that seemed to dampen the ambient noise of the ICU behind him. Funny. In the past, the boy would’ve let his imagination run wild at such a thing, concocting some silly story about the evil Mantroid being out to get him. Not this time.

This time, Chris felt safe enough to let his guard down. To approach the situation with a courage that was all his own—not that of Captain Spirit, or Power Bear, or the Forest Warrior, or Sky Pirate, or any other number of heroes that made up the Spirit Squad he’d so relied on for strength as a child. This time, he would absorb everything around him as it happened. Without pretending he had superpowers, or supportive neighbors, or even Daniel. I can do this.

As Chris crossed the short yet interminable distance between the door and the hospital bed, his father stirred in the shadows. The heart monitor positioned above was more annoying than it was scary, and soon enough, he even got used to the strange hospital smells permeating the room. The boy sighed and pulled up a chair just as Charles woke.

“Mmm…what is…where the hell am I? Where’s my son?” the man grumbled.

“Hey Dad,” Chris said, taking his father’s hand. “I’m right here. You’re…you’re good.”

Charles winced and blinked his eyes. “My fucking head hurts. What happened? I get into another fight or somethin’?”

“If the bathtub counts, then yeah,” the boy chuckled. “Sorry to say, but it totally kicked your ass.”

“I just remember…I had to puke, and then all these dark spots showed up in my eyes. Thought they were swamp bugs, or…I don’t know. But they fell out of the air and into the tub, then hatched into these blue butterflies. I heard your mother’s voice calling me. Then I heard you yelling. Chris, what happened to me?”

“Um, well…” the boy hesitated. He didn’t want to tell him. He was scared it might crush the last of his father’s resolve to hear the news. But he had to. “The doctor said you’re going through a major withdrawal. From drinking. And that…you need to go to a detox center to get better,” Chris sniffled. “I’m sorry, Dad. I really am, ya know? I wish you could stay, and I’d take care of you like always, and-”

“Stop it,” the man said firmly, squeezing his hand as he looked him in the eye. “Just…stop. I don’t want you to shoulder the weight of my mistakes anymore. Okay?” Chris nodded. “These are mine, and I’m the one who has to own up to them. For better or worse.”

“But…you’ve been trying so hard!” the boy cried. “It’s not fair!”

“No, what I’ve done to you isn’t fair. Hey, look at me,” his father urged, running a comforting hand over his tear-stained cheek. “This is just one more battle…right? One last fight, and we can put this crap behind us for good. And you and me, we can do this because we’re fighters. We’ve always got each other. All right?”

“I love you so much!” Chris exclaimed, standing up to hug him.

“I love you too, son. And I’ll be back home before you know it.”

“Yeah…I guess,” the boy sighed. “Just really sucks. I want to spend more time with you.”

“We will, don’t worry buddy,” his father assured, patting him on the back. “Promise. Seems we have a few years of catching up to do. But first, I need to get better. Just…try to be good and don’t give your grandpa any shit while I’m gone, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy said, leaning back up. “I…guess I can practice my shooting.”

“There ya go,” Charles beamed. “And by the way Chris,” he said, squeezing his hand again. “…Thank you. For saving my life. If you hadn’t gotten there when you did…”

“I know,” Chris breathed. “Just glad I didn’t lose you too.”

“I’m…well, you know.”

“Apology accepted,” the boy said with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’ve earned it.”

“Thank you,” Charles whispered.

“Welcome. So hey uh, real quick, you think it’s okay if I go-”

“Knock knock!” a young nurse interrupted from the doorway. “Oh, sorry, I’m just here to take some vitals and change his IV bag. You guys need me to come back later?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Charles chuckled. “Change away!”

“Um…yeah, it’s cool,” Chris forced a laugh.

“I guess you’re eager to get out of here, aren’t you?” his father smirked.

“Well…I just remembered there’s sorta somebody I have to check on.” Chris grit his teeth. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving his father’s side now, especially after the way he’d found him. The fact he was in the hospital made him feel more nervous than safe. But Charles simply smiled and gave him the okay, and that was all the reassurance he needed.

“Go on, I’ll be fine,” the man said.

“But what if…well yeah,” the boy sighed. “I guess you will. Be back soon,” he waved.

Once out in the hallway, Chris took a quick look around to be sure he wasn’t being watched and dug out his phone, pressing it to his ear as he paced the perimeter of the ICU. He still felt shaken about the girl he suspected was Catalina. If she was anywhere in the ER, it had to be this wing. All there was to do now was confirm it was her. Conflicting thoughts entered his mind as he went, staying alert for any nurses who might catch on to his wanderings. Why am I even doing this? Do I really care? Or is this just to get Daniel to talk to me again? I guess I’m just worried and freaked out. She IS a friend. Or was.

Hearing a loud commotion at the far end of the hall, Chris adjusted his path and continued his charade, pretending to talk on the phone about dogs, homework, girls, and other random things. Not that that was a good idea either. If anyone noticed, he’d be escorted back to the lobby. Man, if I run into Dr. Liu again, I’m dead. The boy put his phone away and stopped to scan for restroom signs. If I tell them I just got lost on the way, they shouldn’t call security.

Chris rounded the corner of the main desk and ducked low, quickening his pace toward an open room on the right several nurses seemed to be rushing towards. Frantic instructions mixed with discordant shouting came from behind a blue curtain that opened and closed several times, but not enough to see anything. Chris felt his heart thud with anticipation the closer he got to the scene.

“Goddamn it, she’s slipping again!” a female nurse shouted. “BP eighty-three over seventy-one and falling. More oxygen, get her more oxygen! Can somebody grab me scissors to cut this shirt off? And keep that charge ready!”

“On it!”

Chris sunk back against the wall and took out his phone again when a doctor rushed by. Two nurses on computers at the counter were discussing the scene.

“Does she not have any family we could call?”

“Nope. Intake listed her as a Jane Doe. Got nothing on her.”

“Jesus, that’s awful.”

The boy shuddered as he neared the bustling room. All the shouting only drove his pulse louder. Waves of nausea rippled through his stomach. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he could smell blood. And latex. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. And don’t let me get caught, he prayed. A cold sweat rushed over him as he tiptoed toward the curtain, mere feet away. More shouting came over the deathly slow pings of a heart monitor.

“Pulse dropping, we’re losing her, we’re losing her! Ready with that charge? Clear patient!”

“Charging. Three…two…one…clear!”

Silence followed for several moments.

“Shit…again!

“Charging! Three…two…one…clear!”

More silence.

It was at that moment that the crushing weight of anxiety became too much. Without a second thought, Chris stepped forward and yanked back the ugly blue curtain just in time to see the heart monitor begin to spike and steady. Every nurse and doctor in the room—including Liu—looked back at him in shock and bewilderment. But it didn’t matter. The young girl lie there on the bed, forearms heavily bandaged and Firewalk shirt cut open. And though half her face was obscured by an oxygen mask, he could tell from the moment she opened her eyes that she was indeed Catalina.

By the time Chris heard them shout for security, he had already fled.

*          *          *

Santiago arrived home after a late basketball practice to an empty house. Not an uncommon occurrence where the Fuentes family was concerned; everyone had their own errands to run, jobs to work, or extracurricular activities to attend. And his annoying young cousin Catalina was always off doing whatever Catalina did, be it research at the library or playing detective. He tried not to get in her way too much anymore, lest he face her wrath. For the most part, she seemed able to take care of herself. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Someone should have been home by five o’clock. He knew it. Santiago dug out his phone to do a quick headcount. He opted to try his father first, as he was the one to give him the least trouble about anything. Usually.

“Hola, mijo!”

“Hola Papa. Just checking in,” San said, tossing his backpack on the sofa. “La casa esta vacia.”

“And this surprises you?”

“At five o’clock? Sorta.”

“Oh, it’s five? Must be an emergency!” the man laughed with sarcasm. “Let’s see. Your adorable lil' hermano Carlos is currently running around squirting me and unfortunately MY CUSTOMERS!” he shouted at the boy, “…with a water gun. Your mother is out getting groceries, Rosa is being a Girl Scout, and tu Padre is about to seal a deal on that Mustang we just got in, provided he doesn’t murder Carlos first.”

Santiago chuckled. “And Catalina?”

“Mijo, you know I don’t keep track of that chica any more than you do! Have you tried calling her?”

“Not yet. But she’s never really out this late,” Santiago said, tearing into his last protein bar. “Besides, aren’t you even the slightest bit concerned that Tio Gilberto’s gonna pull some-”

“Cállate” his father shouted angrily. “You know we don’t speak of that man.”

“Kind of important to look after his daughter, don’t ya think?”

“By following her every waking move? Look, she does well in school, she comes home, she don’t get pregnant, that’s good enough for me. In case you forgot, I have a business to run, Santiago! Gilberto wants bodyguards, he can damn well hire his own.”

“Yeah, and if he stops paying our bills because you guys neglect her, then what?”

“I’m done having this conversation with you. I’m sure she’ll show up sooner or later. Just call her, Santiago!” His father ended the call.

“Gee thanks Papa,” the teen rolled his eyes, slumping down on the couch. Something still didn’t feel right. Why does no one else seem to give a shit? He shifted onto his side and laid down to scroll through his socials a bit. Wow. Daniel’s a drama queen. He wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to add the boy on Snap, but it seemed the nice thing to do, being that he was friends with Cat. Upon viewing his story, Santiago was greeted with a slew of passive-aggressive posts, all made over the past hour. The last one got his attention.

‘IF ANYONE KNOWS WHERE CATALINA IS, PLEASE CONTACT ME ASAP!’

“What the fuck?!” the teen exclaimed, jolting up from the sofa. He immediately went to his contacts and dialed her number, turning on speaker. The tone rang. But so did something else. A loud rattling noise came from the coffee table. Santiago looked down. Sure enough, her familiar iPhone with the pink Hello Kitty case lay face down, lighting up the glass. “No way! Cat, what the hell is going on?” He picked up her phone and noticed something else. An envelope was taped to the edge of the table inches away with a single phrase written in the middle. ‘Mi Familia’.

Frantic, Santiago tore into the letter. His heart sunk at what he read.

Hey. It’s Catalina. I’m sure this will come as a shock to you guys. To Santiago, not so much. He’s the only one who’s stuck by my side in Beaver Creek long enough to know my secrets, and he’s also the only one I trust to keep them. So please don’t ask him to open up in my absence. He won’t, and he’s under enough stress as it is.

Tio Jesus and Tia Vanessa – don’t waste your time calling the cops. Not that you will, seeing’s how I’m utterly forgettable to you both. But just in case the thought ever crosses your mind, I’m sure you know how much of a mistake that would be. I promise I’m not missing, but...some part of me is, and I have to find it.

So I’m going somewhere safe for a while. Good riddance, right? If you all know me like I hope you do, then you know what that means. You all deserve a peaceful family life. Right now, I’m disrupting that. Pretty sure I always have. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for upending your lives. If or when I do return to you, hopefully I’ll have found that piece of myself that demands an answer.

But right now, the tree inside me is growing faster than I anticipated. Branches are weighing me down, and there are a lot of leaves to be shed—each of which is an 'exit door' to somewhere else. I know that makes no sense. It’s hardly ever made sense to me. But this is a journey I must take on my own. I hope you understand.

I guess I’ll see you on the other side of…whatever.

 – Cat

Santiago felt sick to his stomach, even as his mother and Rosa barged through the front door with bags of groceries in hand. All he could do was sit there in a trance, reading the letter over and over, not understanding a single damn word of it. But he didn’t have to. Because if there was one thing he could be sure of, it’s that his cousin felt she was in imminent danger. And for whatever reason, she thought it best to run away. Yeah. Thanks Cat. That might work for everyone else, but not for me. Santiago clenched his jaw, trembling.

“Santiago!” his mother scowled. “Mind getting your colito off the couch to help with groceries, por favor?”

He felt like flying into a rage. Like throwing something, smashing the glass pane of the coffee table. Anything. All he wanted was his cousin back. But from the sound of that letter, that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

“I’m guessing you didn’t see this?” he frowned, holding up the fated piece of paper.

“No,” Vanessa huffed, lugging her bags over to the kitchen. “Lot more important things to do right now, I have to get dinner started, and-”

“Cat’s missing!” Santiago fumed. His mother dropped her bags in front of the fridge and snatched the letter out of his hand to look it over. Her expression remained the same, though she raised an eyebrow at a couple paragraphs. By the time she was done, however, a smirk had come over her face. San wished he could wipe it off.

“Good,” she shrugged. “Ella ya no es nuestro problema.”

“How can you say that?! She’s family!”

“Listen,” his mother sighed, stroking his cheek. “I know you care for her, okay? I understand. You have a good heart, mijo. Eres un buen hermano. But this girl and her father…they’ve been nothing but trouble for us. And now, por la gracia de Dios, we have a chance to make it on our own.” His mother turned back to begin loading food into the fridge.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well…your father is signing a contract on Monday,” she smiled. “Ford dealership wants to take us over, and they’ve offered him a lot more money than he’s been making on his own. We can be legit now! No more drugs, no more bullshit.” Santiago frowned in reply. “Hey, don’t be so upset! This will be good for us!”

“You mean good for you! So you’re just gonna abandon Cat?!”

“She’s not my kid!” Vanessa snapped. “Mi hermano made his choice! He wants to wreck his own family, fine, but I’ll be damned if I continue to let him destroy mine!”

“This is fucking bullshit!” Santiago raged, punching a large dent in the kitchen wall. Pain rocketed through his knuckles and up his hand, but he didn’t care. For years, he’d been taught that nothing was more important or valuable than family. That it was a disgrace to abandon anyone for any reason. But now, his parents wanted to drop Cat like she was nothing? Yeah. I’m sure that little business merger is going to work great for you too when Tio Gilberto finds out.

Santiago stormed out the door and opened Daniel’s Snapchat story again to leave a reply. He had no idea where Cat was, but maybe they could try to find her together.       

Chapter Text

> Meet me at Willie’s in an hour?

Daniel leaned over his desk with a sigh as he looked from the phone to the rain-battered window and back again. Santiago’s message had sat open on Snapchat for several minutes now. What should I even say? he thought. We’ve never talked. In the hours since leaving Agent Michaels in the woods and lying to his grandmother that all was well—despite that he’d heard the man skirting out of their driveway at breakneck speeds—Daniel had spent much of the time holed up in his room freaking out. It would all be okay, he convinced himself. Catalina was always the calm one. She’d be fine after a few minutes.

Except she wasn’t. He could tell when something was bothering her. And this really bothered her.

“I think they know something,” Daniel had said. “This agent, he’s been working on a drug case in Portland. He just asked me how things were with life and all that, but the way he talked, it sounded like he wanted information. He asked me your name, but I didn’t tell him. He said something about a car with drugs they’re gonna use to bust someone. I figured your uncle works for a dealership, so…I don’t know what they’re gonna do, but it sounds bad.”

“Oh.”

“Just ‘oh’? That’s it?”

“Guess I’m just used to it,” she had said. “My uncle’s in a lot of shit with some really shady people who work for my dad. Doesn’t surprise me. But he runs a pretty airtight ship. Don’t worry, nothing’s going down. Not without a fight, anyways. My dad has some contacts in MS-13.”

“You mean like the gang? Holy shit, no way!”

“Way.”

“That’s hardcore! So do you think…they’re trying to bust your dad? You know…by getting to you?”

“Probably,” she had laughed with a tinge of nervousness. He hated it. “But they’ll never find me. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How? I mean, if want to run…I could totally give you some survival tips.”

“That’s sweet. But let’s just say I know of a…safe place. The safest option for me that doesn’t involve my dad finding out.”

“W-What do you mean by ‘option’?”

“Nothing…”

“Cat…what place?” She didn’t answer, but he’d sworn he heard muffled crying. “Tell me! Please?”

“Look, I gotta go. I…it’ll be fine, okay? Just trust me. We’ll talk later. I hope...”

“Cat!”

By now, Daniel had run over the conversation in his head a million times. But the more he did, the more the details grew fuzzy. He wanted to trust her, of course. But unless her plan involved jumping into some other dimension, how could she possibly be safe? An analogy Chris once made after their meeting at the library still stuck with him. He’d called it ‘The Wall and The Empowered Princess’.

On the one side were the king and all his men—her father, who had abused her. And on the other were the hunters. Both wanted Catalina for their own nefarious purposes, and keeping Daniel in check certainly seemed vital for both as well, given his own powers and the attack on Chris. No wonder my gut is telling me to run away. He felt like somewhat of a prisoner in his own home again, and he hated it.

Daniel looked at his phone again. Sneaking out wasn’t the best idea with Claire and Stephen home, but maybe he wouldn’t have to. He remembered telling his grandmother he was working on a group project the other day. That seemed like the easiest ticket out. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stood up from his desk and texted a response to Santiago.

< Half-hour? I’ll be there.

> That works.

He pulled on a pair of torn black skinny jeans and threw on the xSquad wolf hoodie Agent Parker had bought him several years ago. He was surprised it still fit, yet thankful he was still small enough that it could. Wonder what that guy’s up to these days, he thought before heading out of his bedroom. He couldn’t explain why, but he got an uneasy feeling. Hope he’s okay.

A swathe of particular scents from Claire’s cooking downstairs stole his attention as he opened the door. With everything else going on, he’d almost forgotten that Thanksgiving was coming up in three days. So was his much-deserved break from school. And while Daniel was excited for both, he was also terrified of being alone for the holidays this year—especially after a breakup that meant Chris wouldn’t be visiting. He just hoped Claire and Stephen’s church friends wouldn’t be over in their place. That would suck. At least I have my room and my PlayBox.

Upon heading downstairs, he found the living room warm with heat from the crackling fire. Various autumn-themed decorations adorned the walls and tables, including a few leaves he’d pressed for a school project. Stephen sat on the couch watching some kind of travelogue on the PBS channel, while his grandmother removed a baking sheet of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. It was all so picturesque and welcoming. Daniel could almost see Sean drawing away in the corner. Man. I don’t think about it as much, but…I miss him.   

“Hey Grandma,” he smiled, kneeling down on the way to pet Lucky.

“Oh, hi sweetie! Getting your schoolwork done in time for Thanksgiving break?”

“Uh, yeah! Sort of.”

“Hope so,” she replied, facing him. “Oh geez, you’re wearing those dirty jeans again? Thought I told you to throw those things out!”

“They’re not dirty! They just have holes. Besides, they look cool.”

“I’ll never understand you kids and your fashion statements,” she laughed. “Still not appropriate for the dinner table.”

Daniel sighed. “Actually, I was gonna ask if I could go to Willie’s for dinner tonight? I have my group project due tomorrow, and I just have to meet one of my friends from class to go over some stuff.”

“I see,” Claire breathed. “Well, if it’ll help you ace your project, I don’t see why not. I’m just starting on a bit of Thanksgiving dinner early, so we’re eating light as it is. But Stephen can take you, since he’s preoccupied with his History Channel. Right, honey?” she called.

“Of course!” the man smiled, leaning on his cane as he stood. Daniel hated relying on his grandparents for rides, especially with Stephen’s bad leg. The man could walk fine, but the fall and winter months seemed to make his pain worse. Daniel would never admit it to Claire, but there were times when Stephen often allowed him to take control of the car to ensure they got to their destination safely. “You all ready to go?”

“Just gotta grab my shoes.”

“And Stephen, please be careful,” his grandmother said sternly.

“I’m fine, chief,” he insisted.

After making their way out to the Lexus in the garage, Daniel opened the driver’s side door to assist his grandfather with getting in, then came around to sit in the passenger seat. Stephen smiled as he closed the door, and the two of them paused for a moment.

“You know, Daniel…I can’t thank you enough for your help in getting around lately.”

“I know, Grandpa. Don’t worry, it stays between us.”

“I appreciate that. At my age, there are moments I get scared, you know? The muscles in my leg tend to give out when I least expect it. Doctors, all they want to do is prescribe more painkillers, but I’ve always hated those things. So I’m glad you’re around to help with my driving,” he chuckled. “Feel bad I can’t…move like I used to.”

“Don’t feel bad. You can’t help it.”

“True,” Stephen sighed. “Just wish I could do more work around the yard, or at least get out of the house more.”

“I’ll help as much as I can. Promise. Besides, we’re getting out now, aren’t we?”

“We are,” the man chuckled. “Makes me feel like a mischievous kid climbing out my window again. Was good practice for my firefighting career, now that I think about it.”    

“No way! You used to sneak out?”

“Only on weekends!” the old man laughed. “But I did have a lot of fun times when I was your age, believe it or not. We went on road trips up the coast, had beach parties, the whole bit. ‘Course that was before I met Claire.”

“Sounds awesome,” Daniel smiled.

“You deserve a vacation of your own sometime too, you know? Get away from all this…small town stuffiness.”

“Yeah,” the boy replied, gazing aimlessly out the window. “I’ve been thinking about it. Um…Grandpa, can I be honest about something?”

“Always,” Stephen replied. “What’s on your mind?”  

“I didn’t want to bring this up before since I know how you feel, but…Mom tried to contact me a few weeks ago. But…I’m just not ready to talk to her yet? I don’t know. Found out some stuff she was involved in around the time I was born. And it changes things…a lot.”

“I see,” Stephen cleared his throat. Daniel felt nervous.  

“Are you mad?”

“Of course I’m not mad,” the man assured him. “I get the hesitation, believe me. Not sure what I might say to her either. But maybe…we just need to hear her out first, you know? Give her a chance to explain…whatever it is.”

“Yeah…well hey, you mind if we head out? Told my friend I’d be there in a half-hour.”    

“Oh, right!” Stephen chuckled, starting the car. “By the way, it’s always good to talk to you, kiddo. I’ve missed our grandfather-grandson times.”

“Me too. Love you, Grandpa.”

“Love you too.”   

As the garage door lifted slowly behind them, Daniel suddenly realized he had a new reason to be scared. Man, Stephen’s health has been getting bad. How long can we keep this up? I just don’t want anything happening to him. He tried not to think about it and focused back on Catalina, though it was made all the more difficult with him having to keep a close eye on Stephen’s driving the whole way.

Wonder if this is how Cat feels. She’s got so much coming at her, too. How do you watch your own back and look after the ones you love at the same time? How did Sean do it when he was looking for me? How do you…have faith?

*          *          *

The drive to Willie’s lasted about fifteen minutes. As the two spoke, Daniel learned more about his grandfather’s youth, what led him to become a firefighter, his stories of saving various people in Beaver Creek, and meeting Claire at a disco party sometime in the seventies. He also heard more of his mother’s upbringing, which felt awkward. Claire had always been the more dominant figure, both as a wife and as a mother. And though she had evolved somewhat, Daniel still held a bit of resentment toward her for those first couple years he’d lived with the Reynolds. It made sense why his mother wanted to escape that. As a child, it hadn’t taken much for him to reconnect with Karen. Now, he hated to think they had more in common than he’d previously thought, but…maybe they did.

“You really think I should give Mom a call back?” Daniel asked as they arrived.

“I would,” Stephen nodded. “Our little family is complicated as hell, as you know," he chuckled. "But I do know no one can escape loneliness. Not even your mother. People are meant to connect with each other. I imagine things must be pretty tough on her, especially around the holidays. It’s...it's certainly tough on me, when I...when I think of her.”

“I get it. I'm sorry Grandpa.”

"Oh it's alright. God, look at me, I talk about her like she's dead!" he laughed.

"Well, I got proof she's not," Daniel giggled.

"Yeah...I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a little jealous," the old man admitted. "But she...she is your mom. She and I just...have a little more grease to cut through. Anyway, you’ll know what to say when the time comes,” Stephen said, patting him on the shoulder. “I have faith in you, Daniel.”

“Thanks.”

The boy forced a smile. He knew what that meant, but there were times he still shuddered at the mention of that particular word.

'Faith. We hear that word a lot. But faith is not just a word, my brothers and sisters! Remember Luke 18:27, ‘what is impossible for Man…is possible for God.”’

The sound of Lisbeth’s grating voice still cut something deep in his soul. And yet in all of that, he still believed there was something true about it. He had weathered the darkness and eventually placed faith in his own mother after all, because Sean told him she was good, that it was the right thing to do. And she did save them both. She deserved credit for that. But now, like so many other times since he’d arrived back in Beaver Creek, Daniel was faced with making his own decision.

“Maybe…I’ll give her a call over Thanksgiving break.”

“Be sure to let me know how it goes,” Stephen sighed. “I’d call her myself, but…doesn’t feel like it’s my place anymore.”

“I know. But I bet she misses you just as much,” Daniel said. “Family doesn’t just forget each other. Plus you totally helped me and Sean. She really appreciated that. You’ll talk again when she's ready, Grandpa. I know it.”

“Thanks kiddo,” Stephen smiled. “So what’s your plan for tonight?”

“Oh, um…I think I can get a ride back from my friend if that’s cool. You gonna be okay getting home?”

“Me? Ah, don’t worry,” the man smirked. “Even after a few minutes with you, I feel young and fit as a fiddle. I’ll be fine. You go have fun.”

“Okay,” Daniel hugged him before opening the door. “Drive safe.”

“Always do. See you at home.”

“Later.”

As Daniel trudged up the steps to Willie’s Diner, he regretted opting for his torn black jeans. The crisp fall chill was already in full swing, bringing with it the first hints of winter. Before long, the downtown areas would be bustling with Christmas shoppers, choirs, and tourists again. College students often came with their snowboards, skis, and climbing gear on their way up to brave the slopes of Mt. Hood. Seeing them all reminded Daniel of those few vacation trips he’d taken with Sean and his father so many years ago. Maybe that’s why I’ve never joined in on the winter fun here. It’s just too sad. Or maybe I’m just too different.

He quickly spotted Santiago at a far table on the left side of the diner, sipping a coffee one of the waitresses had brought. As he strode past a row of booths to meet him and slid into the seat opposite, Daniel found himself choking on words. Facing Santiago made him nervous in more ways than one. The older teen was tall and lean, slightly intimidating. But also quite handsome.

“Um…hi,” he managed.

“Hey man. Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, um…sorry, just not sure what to say,” Daniel chuckled. “We’ve never really talked.”

“I know, that’s my fault,” Santiago said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I was ever a dick to you and Chris. High school life kinda sucks. I have a stupid reputation with my jock buddies to keep up, pressure from my family, it’s…kind of another world.”

“It’s cool, I get it,” Daniel replied. “Sorta have another world of my own to deal with.”

“Yeah, about that,” Santiago said, taking a long swig of coffee. Oh no. Here it comes. “So I actually…might have Googled you awhile back. You’re that kid who tried to run away to Mexico with your brother after your dad got shot, right?”

“Thaaat’s me,” Daniel sighed, pouring himself a cup from the carafe. “But there’s a lot the news got wrong. People talked a lot of shit when I first started school here, but…it stopped eventually.”

“I figured. News doesn’t tell the whole truth anyway. Plus there’s those fucking cops,” Santiago muttered. “Always think they can get away with killing people like us. Anyway…I read some other stuff too. About like, explosions or whatever. And that school bus a couple years back that almost went off the cliff.”

“Gotta love conspiracy theories,” Daniel laughed nervously.

“Look, I was just wondering, um…” Santiago trailed off as he surveyed the mostly empty dining area to be sure no one was listening in. He lowered his voice with what came next. “Are you…ya know…special?”

Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes as he tore open several sugar packets to empty into his coffee.

“Sorry, but what does any of this have to do with finding Cat? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“So why are you grilling me, dude? I don’t like that.”

“I just…listen, it's 'cause she’s...kinda special, okay? Not sure how much she’s told you, but-”

“Jesus Christ fine, she told me everything!” Daniel cut him off. “More than I ever wanted to know, actually. And…she showed me a lot more than I ever wanted to see,” he shuddered.

“What’s that mean?” Santiago frowned. “Did you guys fuck?!”

“What?! No!” Daniel laughed, blushing as he stirred his coffee. “I mean, like…the stuff about…other worlds.”

“Okay good, you do know,” Santiago said. “I mean not ‘good’, but…it must mean she trusts you.”

“She did. At least up until now.” Daniel took a long swig of coffee that burnt his tongue. It tasted bitter. “She didn’t tell me shit this time, that’s why I’ve been freaking out all day. I don’t know where she is or what’s going on, and I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault?”

“Because, I…” He stopped a moment to think. Do I really want to tell him? Ugh, whatever. He’ll find out sooner or later. “Look, for the past few years, I’ve had these, um…visits?…From the FBI. They were strict at first, up until last year-”

“What the fuck? What’d you do?!”

“NOTHING!” Daniel snapped, slamming his mug down on the table. The lights in the entire diner flickered a moment as hot coffee splashed over his hand. Ouch. That hurt. And maybe I should keep my voice down so we don’t get kicked out. “Just…nothing. Sorry," he sniffled. Maybe it was odd to be getting so defensive, but he'd been accused one too many times over the years. "But yeah. I am ‘special’. It was part of my agreement when they brought me to live with my grandparents. Nowadays, they just check in on me sometimes.”

“So what’s that have to do with Cat?”

“There’s this agent,” Daniel swallowed. “Agent Michaels. He’s been running an undercover drug case in Portland. They couldn’t figure out why no hard drugs are coming through Beaver Creek. But this cartel hitman, he tried hurting Chris last year. And apparently when they questioned the guy, he said they have some other investment to protect.”

“Smells like my Tio Gilberto,” Santiago said. “He’s…Catalina’s dad. He sent her to live with us so she’d be…wait a second,” he shuddered.

“What?”

“So she’d be protected!” he exclaimed, banging the table. One of the waitresses was eyeing them with suspicion at this point. “Don’t you get what’s happening here? Fuck!” the teen facepalmed.

Daniel’s eyes went wide. He almost spit out his coffee as it clicked. No way. It was Catalina. She was the investment. She was the reason no drugs had touched Beaver Creek. And she was likely the reason Chris and his father got attacked. But why? That was before we even met her! Unless they meant to get me, in which case someone knew about me having powers. But that begged an even more sinister question: how would a Mexican drug cartel know such a thing?

“O-Okay, so…let’s back up a minute. She told me and Chris about her dad, and we know she wants nothing to do with him, right?”

“Yeah. She almost never picks up when he calls.”

“But we also know she wouldn’t want to risk getting deported. So in that case…where would she go? She said something about a safe option.”

“I don’t know, but she’s been off her meds, left her ID at home, and my family doesn’t seem to give a shit about finding her. Which now that I think of it, she’s probably counting on,” Santiago sighed, finishing off his coffee. “She did say a lot of weird shit the other night though about…not belonging here.”

“You said she left her ID?”

“Yeah, but in her letter, she said she was just going away for a while. It wasn’t a suicide thing, she wouldn’t do that. At least not for real.”

“So what, is she trying to fake her own-”

“The hospital!” Santiago exclaimed. “If you get committed and you’re a danger to yourself, they don’t let you out for like two or three weeks, right?”

“Minimum. And if you don’t have ID or tell them your name…”

“No one can find you,” Santiago nodded, slumping down over the table. “Shit. I just want her to be okay.”

“Same.”

A ding sounded from the older teen’s phone aside his coffee. He picked it up to scroll over his notifications. Daniel felt the sudden urge to rush to the hospital, but if the staff had nothing on her, chances were slim they’d even be allowed in the room, to say nothing of learning any important details. Santiago snapped to attention at whatever he was reading.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend just hit me up on Instagram.”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” Daniel frowned. “And why would he want to talk to you? No offense.”

“I don’t know. Why, you jealous?” the teen grinned.

“No…” I totally am. “What’d he say?”

“So basically, he logged into Snap on his friend Natalie’s account and saw you freaking out on your story.”

“Wow. That’s just great,” Daniel muttered. “Stalker.”

“Fuck. He saw Cat get taken into the hospital on a stretcher!”

“Oh no! Wait…Chris was at the hospital?!” the boy gasped. “What was he doing there, is he all right?”

“I don’t know man, he’s typing, I didn’t ask. ‘I’m home now. Not sure if you’re friends with Daniel, but figured you both would want to know what’s up. If you can, please tell him I’m fine, but I won’t be in Beaver Creek for a while. Stuff happened with my dad, so I’ll be staying with my grandparents.’ Hmm…’he’s with me for a group project,’” the teen smiled mischievously as he texted a response. “‘Would you want to see him before you leave?’”

“Dude, don’t you dare send that!” Daniel raged, leaning over the table to swipe the phone from his hands. “Santiago!” He pulled away too fast. No luck.

“Bam, too late!” the teen laughed, showing him the sent message. “Aw, that’s so cute, you still care!”

“Of course I do!” Daniel whimpered. “He’s my best friend, I worry about him…what’s he saying?”

“He says ’tell him to add Santiago on TikTok to get a taste of those amazing abs’!” Santiago giggled.

“Ugh, you’re such a douchebag!”

“Nah, I’m kidding, he just said ‘sure’, dot-dot-dot.”

“Damn it!” Daniel huffed, sinking back in the seat to bury his face in his hands. “What about Cat, you think she’ll be okay?”

“Well,” Santiago breathed, tossing his phone down. “If I know my cousin as well as I think I do, then yeah. She gets…emo sometimes, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders and always knows what she’s doing. Even if it looks like total insanity to everyone else,” he added, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like her.”

“At least now we know, so I feel a little better,” the teen said. “Gonna suck trying to find her and convince her to come home though.”

“I’m sorry, man. I totally scared her off.”

“Nah, in this case I should be thanking you, actually. It keeps her safe. If the feds came after my family, especially now, it’d be…worse than bad. But with her out of the picture and my dad’s auto business getting bought up by Ford, I don’t think any drug traffickers or feds will touch us for a while. Or your friend.”

“Good,” Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. But he didn’t feel good. In fact, he felt the opposite. His guts were still twisting in knots, though less because of Santiago and more so because he hated to think about being alone for the holidays. I’m sure Sean hates it too. And Mom…

“You okay?” Santiago asked.

“Eh, I will be.” No. I won’t.

“Come on, let’s head over to meet Chris, maybe he knows more. We’ll stop at Arby’s on the way back. Don’t know about you, but I could totally use some curly fries and a bacon burger, and this diner ain’t gonna cut it.”

Daniel smiled about that, at least. Santiago might be a good friend after all.

*          *          *

As the two arrived back at the Eriksens, Santiago shifted his yellow 2005 Neon into park at the end of the driveway so they could finish their food. Daniel chewed through the last of his mozzarella sticks, while his new acquaintance wolfed down a roast beef sandwich with extra cheese and finished it off with a root beer. The porch light at the house flickered, but the rest of the place was dark. Daniel was getting worried. Was his ex even home?

“I just hope Chris is all right too,” Daniel sighed. Santiago let out a timely belch in response. “Nice!” the boy laughed, managing a short one of his own. “Damn it, that was weak.”  

“You should’ve got soda,” Santiago chuckled.

“Not much of a soda guy anymore. Not sure why. Thanks for dinner, by the way. I totally owe you.” Daniel slurped down the rest of his red slushie.

“No problemo. I guess I sorta needed to get out of my house too, ya know?”

“Yeah. You’re actually pretty cool. Usually don’t get along well with jock guys.”

“Eh, me neither, believe it or not,” Santiago said. “It’s nice to chill with someone who’s not one of my usual ‘friends’.”

“Same.”

“So…” the older teen huffed. “Feel like going in yet?”

“Nah. Well, I don’t know,” Daniel shrugged. He still didn’t feel ready to see Chris yet, especially not after their couple weeks of complete radio silence. But they would have to talk sooner or later. Now I know how Sean must’ve felt the first time he had to talk to Mom in Nevada. How do you get past these things? “It just feels weird with everything happening right now.”

“Sometimes that’s the best time to talk,” Santiago pointed out. “People are more honest when they’re going through shit. He probably needs you, man.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Daniel nodded. “I always used to talk to my brother when things got bad. We’d get so pissed at each other,” he chuckled. “Some days, we hated each other’s guts. But now? I’d give anything in the world to see him again,” he sniffled, gazing out the window. “Anything.”

“I know what you mean,” Santiago said, putting a comforting arm around him. Daniel’s first instinct was to lean into the boy as if he were Sean. But that seemed weird, and he wasn’t sure how he might react. Instead, he sat there, holding back tears. “Me and Cat are kind of the same.”

“Thanks dude,” Daniel smiled. “I can tell you’re a good big brother.”

“I try. And by the way…I’m here if you ever need anything too, man. If you just want to chill with someone, talk, or even just get out of your house. I got you.”

“Cool,” Daniel said, taking a deep breath as he looked nervously toward the house. There were still no signs of life inside. “I guess…I can go talk to Chris.”

“Want me to tag along for backup?”

“No. Probably better if I just go in myself.”

“All right. Nos vemos mañana?”

“Si,” Daniel smiled. “I’ll Snap you if I find out anything else about Cat.”

“Cool. You have a goodnight.”

“You too. Thanks again.”

As Daniel watched Santiago pull out of the driveway and head up Evergreen Street, he turned back to the ghostly structure of the Eriksen house. A cold wind swept down from the hills to envelop him in its muted howl on his way up, causing him to shiver again. Maybe Grandma would be happier if I patched these pants. I do miss doing cool stuff like that sometimes. He always felt oddly nostalgic this time of year. Back in 2016, I was lifting rocks near the river. I still remember that big one. It felt impossible at first. Then it got easier. Kinda feels like this now.

Another chill swept over him as he approached the door on the front porch to find it unlocked and slightly ajar. Everything seemed eerily quiet. Would Chris even want to see him? He thought back to that last text Santiago had shown him. ‘Sure…’. Maybe this was a bad idea. Or Chris had already gone, but in that case, he certainly would’ve locked up before leaving. Daniel took a deep breath and pushed open the door as another thought came to him. What if somebody got to him again?

“Chris?” he called, stepping into the darkened house and flicking the light on. “You home?” Nothing. Daniel shut the door behind him and ventured a look around. The old wooden table in the kitchen was bare, as were the counters. The cabinet beneath the sink was open for some reason. He then checked the living room. The TV was dark, though green text showed in the top left corner which read ‘CABLE 1’. The VCR/DVD deck beneath it was on. Looks like he was watching something? He headed over and knelt down to hit the play button. An old home video sprang to life on the large flatscreen. It showed a birthday cake with the number '7' surrounded by brightly lit candles and appeared to have been taken in the kitchen. A beautiful, radiant woman stood over a young boy, hands grasping his shoulders as the camera panned upward.

“Today is February 8^th, 2014. And it’s a very special day, because it just so happens to be the seventh birthday of Beaver Creek’s very own superhero, Captain Spirit!” The blond boy gave off a sheepish smile in response and buried his head in his arms. “Aww, don’t you want to say anything for the camera, sweetie? You practiced your speech so hard last night.”

“I don’t wanna,” he laughed nervously. “Can I open my presents?”

“Well, first you have to blow out the candles and make a wish,” the woman smiled. “But then, I want to hear all about your awesome intergalactic adventures!”

“Okayyy,” Chris smiled.

“All right, here we go! Ready with the camera, dear?”

“Always ready to wish a superhero a happy birthday!” Charles said excitedly.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Captain Spirit, Happy Birthday to you!” the parents sang together as the boy blew out the candles.

"I did it, I did it!" the seven-year-old Chris clapped his hands.

“Yes you did, sweetie!” his mother laughed, planting a kiss on his head.

The video suddenly paused on a zoomed shot of her smile. Daniel froze. Then he heard the familiar sound of a young boy's raspy voice behind him.

“Happier times, huh?”

Chris stood barefoot aside his father’s recliner, clad in torn blue jeans and a black Power Bear shirt. His pale blue eyes looked red from crying. Or drinking, judging by the bottle of Jack dangling loosely in one hand as the other held the remote. Daniel’s mouth dropped open. He didn’t know what to say. Before he could utter a single word, his ex had already tossed the remote on the sofa and plodded back to his room.

“W-Wait! Chris!” Daniel scrambled up from the hardwood floor to chase after him. When he rounded the corner into the bedroom in which they’d shared many adventures—and their first kiss—he found it completely obliterated. A lamp lay on the floor, still lit. Piles of clothes were scattered everywhere, some half torn out of the dresser. Crumpled papers and torn books were thrown about. Childhood artwork had been scribbled on. A large open suitcase sat on the bed, still empty. Broken toys littered the floor. Perhaps the most glaring change was the small TV face down on the floor, appearing to have been thrown off the shelf and hurled across the room at one point. A large dent scarred the opposite wall above an overturned bookcase. Chris had plopped on the carpet against his bed, bottle still in hand, taking aimless sips now and then. This place looks like I wrecked it with my powers. “Oh Chris,” Daniel shuddered. “What the hell happened?”

“Like you give a shit,” the boy scoffed. He downed another sip.

“Chris…I do,” Daniel bit his lip and shuddered, still awestruck at the level of destruction.

“No you don’t. Because it’s always about Catalina, right? I mean after all, how can I ever measure up to someone with real powers? Whatever...don’t act like you need me.”

“Stop it! You really think that’s what this is about?”

“Honestly? Yeah!” Chris spat. “You’ve been all over her since the day we met her! And if you want to say I’m jealous, go right ahead! I kind of have the right to be, considering you were my boyfriend. But I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he said, taking another swig. “You still left, just like everyone else does.”

“Well I’m not leaving now, so cut the emo shit. And you better stop drinking!” Daniel demanded, diving to the floor and swiping the bottle from his grasp. But just as he did, Chris yanked him by the shirt and pulled him in to kiss him. The boy shoved him away and fell back to the floor. Chris then dove on top of him, pinning him by the shoulders like a helpless animal. “Dude, what the fuck, stop!” The rabid teen attempted to kiss him again, but Daniel was able to free his arm. In a swift motion, he reached up and grabbed him by the throat, which seemed to catch him off guard. Shaken, Chris finally obeyed, erupting into tears as he slumped on the floor aside him.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry!” the boy cried, hands covering his face. Daniel got up on his knees, grasping his former boyfriend beneath the arms to pull him—somewhat unwillingly—close to the bed. There, he sat with his back against the box spring as he embraced Chris from behind, holding him close to his chest. The boy continued spouting frantic apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“Shhh,” Daniel whispered in his ear, holding him tight . “Just take a deep breath. It’s…it’s okay, Chris. It’s gonna be okay.” But deep down, he knew it wasn’t.

“I’m turning into my dad, aren't I?” Chris trembled. “I'm just like him..."

“Stop. You’re not,” Daniel assured him, kissing his head. “And you never were. You’re just…hurting right now. And you’re right. It’s my fault for being a dick. I’m sorry too,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. But you gotta understand it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, okay? I was so scared when I found out you were at the hospital! You should’ve called me.”

“I tried. You still have my number blocked.”

“Oh yeah…guess I forgot,” he sighed. “But you have my house number, right?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I really feel like going through Claire,” Chris rolled his eyes.

The two paused a moment in the stillness, assessing one another in the quiet, dimly lit room. When Daniel breathed in, Chris would take a breath out. When Daniel breathed out, he would breathe in. They lay like that for some time in their connection, each curious but afraid to speak until the moment their fingers intertwined. 

"So...how's your dad?"

"He was doing so good, actually," Chris sniffled. "Better than ever, if you can believe that. Had me throw out all his booze. Even took me shooting in the woods. There was this...blue butterfly again. I accidentally shot it. But it came back to life right in my hands," he breathed. "Most amazing thing I ever saw. Aside from the day I met you, obviously."

"You're so corny Chris," Daniel chuckled. 

"It gave us hope my mom's still out there, you know? Flying free in...whatever's beyond this."

"That sounds nice. I bet she's out there too," Daniel mused. "Along with my dad. And Mushroom. They're all okay, you know? Just like Cat showed us-"

“You always have to bring her up," the boy cut him off. "Guess you were more worried about her after all.”

“That’s not true! I was worried about you both.”

“Not sure why I even told you guys shit,” the boy sat up, irritated. "She probably didn’t want anyone to find out.”

“I don't know yet. But you did the right thing, dude. Her family deserves to know. Santiago appreciated it.”

“Maybe,” the boy shrugged. “When I saw her get wheeled in tonight, I freaked because I knew you’d be upset, and I hate seeing you in pain. So I snuck by her room because I wasn't sure it was her at first. But fact is…when I saw her there on the bed, shirt cut open, doctors trying to save her? A small part of me was hoping she’d just...die. Because then I might stand a chance at getting you back,” he said coldly. “I know that sounds-”

“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Daniel scowled and let go, shoving him away. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Somehow, the most compassionate person he'd ever known in his life had turned into the very evil he’d once so valiantly fought. Chris drunkenly struggled to regain his balance as Daniel stood and headed for the door.

“Look, I know it’s messed up, okay?” he defended. “But I just…god, I miss you Daniel! And right now, I have no one. Nothing!”

The teen waited in the doorway a moment, back turned as he listened to Chris make his case. He understood, of course. Looking back, it all made perfect sense why the boy had clung so hard to him. But while they had needed each other in the beginning, he could no longer accept it. Not like this.

And much as Daniel hated to admit it, some aspects of their relationship had grown overwhelmingly toxic for him since the beginning of that school year. While some of it had to do with Cat, more of it had to do with Chris’s constant insecurities, his need for validation, and whatever love he hadn’t gotten from his father. I wish I could be there right now…but I can’t be everything to him. I can’t be all he has. He needs more than I can give.

“I’ve missed you too, Chris,” Daniel cried, turning to face him. “And I do still want to be friends. You know I do! But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t! Not when-”

“Because of her, or because of me?” the boy cut him off.

“That’s not fair. Don’t you dare make this a choice!”

“But it is a choice. Isn’t it,” Chris frowned, picking up the bottle again in defiance.

“Yeah…looks like you’ve made yours.”

With that, Daniel stormed off, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Further incoherent rambling continued from the void, but he didn’t stick around to hear it. So much for fixing things. At least he knew Chris would sober up once his grandfather arrived, provided he didn’t drink himself into a coma first. Should’ve taken that bottle with me, he thought. He just hoped after all was said and done, they could remain friends.

As he headed back onto the street and continued toward his house—a decision he made after seeing the passive-aggressive ‘No Wolves Allowed!’ sign his ex had recently nailed over the hole in the fence that once connected their yards—Daniel let out a weary sigh and looked up to the waning moon high in the heavens. For the first time in forever, he felt like howling in his own form of defiance--or maybe prayer. Such primal screams always felt akin to that. But he hadn’t the strength to howl, and he knew the cold chill in the air would only make him sick in the coming days if he attempted such a thing.

Still, some part of him felt the urge, and so pervasively that it almost crushed his heart not to do it.

Guess I'm really a lone wolf now. I wonder if Sean still howls. Or maybe he's forgotten how. Maybe he's forgotten me...

Daniel walked to the edge of the street and let out his best anyway, hoping beyond hope that--like the blue butterflies--his cries would cut through the ether of time and space to reach the ears of his only brother.

Chapter Text

Agent Michaels sat in his rain-battered car outside a Dunkin Donuts on the way back to Portland with a coffee in hand and defeat in his soul. His entire body ached. His neck still felt tight. He had one hell of a migraine. For the past several hours after getting his ass kicked by a super-powered teenage boy, he’d been mulling over how to explain the situation to Flores and Agent Parker. So far, nothing seemed sufficient. I fucked up. That was the only thought that stuck in his mind. But it was better to rip the band-aid off now and get it over with. He took a deep breath and dialed Flores, who was still in Mexico. She picked up after two rings.

“HOLA,” her voice broke loudly through the car’s sound system.

“Shit!” Michaels winced, turning down the volume. “Okay, can you hear me?”

“Yes. You’re calling early. Didn’t expect a report so soon.”

“Yeah, well…things kind of went south in Beaver Creek.”

“I see the car finally arrived. But it’s been migrating a bit on the back roads, so you may want to keep a closer eye. I assume you’ve checked in with Daniel and the Reynolds?”

“More like checked out,” the agent sighed, popping a few pills of Aleve and washing them down with stale coffee.

“What do you mean?”

“Got my ass handed to me by a fourteen year-old. Kid is something else.” There was a long pause. Michaels heard what sounded like a snort, followed by an eruption of hysterical laughter that only made his headache worse. “What the hell’s so funny?!”

“I’m sorry!” Flores laughed. “It’s just I remember what that felt like, so I know what you mean. He packs quite the punch for a little guy. Should’ve warned you not to piss him off.”

“Yeah, well he’s pretty pissed.”

“What happened?”

“Daniel doesn’t exactly trust us after last year, not that I blame him. But given the attempt on his friend’s life and what we learned from Sean, I had a hunch he might know Garcia’s daughter, so I tried getting information,” Michaels explained.

“You what?! Please tell me you were subtle! His lack of confidence in you could compromise this entire operation!”

“Look, I was as subtle as I could be, okay? Time is a factor too. I just asked him how school’s going, how things are with his friends. Seemed stressed, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then he mentioned this girl he likes. I asked him what her name was, and that’s when he got defensive,” the man cringed, adjusting his seat. “So after crunching my bones in about fifty different ways, he said ‘I know what you’re doing, and you’re not taking her away from me’. Then he ran home and left me in the rain.” There was another long pause. Flores let out a winded sigh before answering.

“Shit…well…you know what needs to be done.” Her voice sounded deeper, almost sinister. That wasn’t good.

“Stop. You have that old procedural Flores tone, and I hate when you have that tone.”

“Because you know what it means,” she said, her voice wavering. “Look, Michaels…I cannot be involved in this case anymore, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t call me again. I left the Bureau for a reason, and this is exactly why. Like it or not, you work for the FBI. You have a job to do that requires a certain allegiance. If this goes any further…there’s a good chance we’ll end up on opposite sides, sooner rather than later. That’s not a line I’m willing to cross.”

“I understand,” Michaels breathed. “But…what would you do if you were me?”

“I would leave without hesitation, just as I did. Get out now, before you can’t. Or you may soon find yourself sacrificing more than just your conscience.”

“And if you were still with the Bureau?”

“…Goodnight, Agent Michaels.” She ended the call.

“Fuck,” the man sighed, shutting his eyes a moment to process everything. It all felt too surreal. What were the odds that taking down a Mexican drug lord all hinged on Daniel? Michaels leaned over and opened his laptop on the passenger seat again, where a GPS program was still open and tracking the red Mustang in real time. He could blow it if he really wanted to. No one would be any the wiser. Not even Agent Parker.

The director of the FBI had given Michaels heightened security access in the event that anything should go wrong.

‘Truth is, Parker’s been a bit of a loose cannon ever since he found out about his brother’s death, and I’m not about to take that risk’ the balding man had said. ‘He won’t accept failure as an option, even when it’s prudent. Our first priority in the Portland case is nabbing Garcia’s daughter, not fucking with the Diaz brothers. We don’t need an international incident on our hands, or god forbid, the court of public opinion. My advice? Let Parker have his fun for now, see if it pans out. But you smell even one hint of trouble, I want this thing shut down, and fast.’

‘You can count on me, sir.’

‘I have full faith in you, Agent Michaels,’ the man had said, shaking his hand. ‘You always do the right thing. Stay on top of your game, and you just might land that promotion.’

The agent’s fingers hovered over the keyboard a moment. He took a deep breath, then got to work. Fuck it. A window with a black screen immediately popped up, displaying green text as he typed in a series of commands. Far above in the exosphere, some six hundred miles from Earth’s surface, a satellite was redirected into position to emit a signal. That signal, Michaels knew, would tell the car to explode. All he had to do now was type ‘E’ for execute.

“Here goes,” the man breathed, tapping the final button. But something unexpected happened—or didn’t happen—as his eyes continued following the red dot on the GPS. The car was still moving. “That’s impossible,” he panicked, hitting ‘E’ again. He typed in a command to bring back the main menu. It wasn’t working. “Come on, you piece of shit,” he huffed, trying again. And again. And again. Still nothing. Suddenly, the laptop screen flashed the message 'LOW BATTERY' and went dark. Michaels slammed the device shut and rested his head against the steering wheel of the car. His phone rang. He jolted upward and answered, turning on the stereo again. A cold voice crackled through the airwaves.

“Hello, Agent Michaels.”

“Parker?” The doors locked suddenly. A shudder swept down the agent’s spine as he descended into a panic. His hands reached for the driver’s side handle to get out. He tried lifting the lock, but it wouldn’t budge. He leaned over and tried the other doors. No luck. “Come on man, stop fucking around,” he breathed, trying to lower the automatic windows. Click, click. Nothing. He put his full weight against the door while grasping the handle, attempting to force it open. Nothing. “Parker? PARKER!”  

“You only have about sixty seconds to live before that bomb under your car goes off, so I wouldn’t waste your breath,” the man said. “Funny how things work out in hindsight. Who’d have thought that the Diaz boys would be the key to taking down the big, bad Garcia? But that’s always been your problem, Michaels. You’re too soft. Always abandoning things on a whim, never wanting to see the bigger picture. A shame, really. You’re young, have so much potential, but all you do is squander it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about…”

“Come on, you know exactly what I mean. You let your empathy for Daniel get in the way of doing your job. Hell, so does Flores. For what it’s worth, I used to do the same. We’re only human, after all. But I won’t make that mistake again. Not when I have a wife and kid on the line. If I’d have let you blow that car…I would lose them. It’s the only hand I’ve got left to play.”

“Shit...” Michaels nodded, trembling as tears cascading down his face. He understood. “So they got to you, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’m tying up a few lose ends first. It’s nothing personal, of course,” Parker said sadly. “But I’ll get them. Don’t you worry.”

“You always were the better man. Guess I’ll see you in hell.”

“Godspeed…partner.”

Michaels closed his eyes as the fire enveloped him.

Chapter Text

The New Year in Puerto Lobos had come and gone with great celebration. Sean and Finn were able to knock out their regular quota of cars early for the holidays, so there was time to kick back for the winter season—or at least as much of a winter as there was to be had in the small coastal village. The sixty-degree weather made it feel more like fall. But while it was good that things had slowed to a manageable level for them, Sean knew that with more free time on his hands, he’d again be prone to dwelling on the past. And because of that, winter was also the season he hated most. He’d resolved to talk to Finn about as he lay awake in bed the previous night. No sense in causing more shit for them both—especially after his last breakdown. I might hate it, but I have to open with him. I just have to.

“Man, I still can’t believe how long it’s been since…Beaver Creek,” he sighed, plodding barefoot back to the fire pit with two hot coffees in hand. Finn loved his sugar rush and extra cream, but the Diaz boy preferred it black as night. Something about being on the road had changed his youthful tastes. Maybe not for the better.

“Six fuckin’ years. I know, I know,” Finn muttered in that chill way of his as he sipped his coffee. Damn, I envy that Zen attitude. “Surprised you still fit into that hoodie of yours. Shit, they’re gonna bury you in that thing!” the hippie laughed.

“I’m just always cold,” Sean smirked. “But you’re probably right.” He sat next to his faithful companion as they looked out at the waves together, watching the gulls soar and swoop down to pick at random bits of food left behind by partygoers over the previous week. “Sorry. This time of year just always gives me an eerie feeling.”

“Eh, it’s all good brother,” the young man assured him, taking a hit off his bong. “I know this job of ours don’t exactly lend one to speakin’ their mind often. Need a hit before your therapy sesh?”

“Nah, I’m good. Been baked as hell every day since New Year’s,” Sean laughed.  

“More for me then,” Finn chuckled. “You know what the good thing about this time of year is?” he said, exhaling a torrent of smoke. “Miracles. Like when you and Daniel caught up with us on the beach in Cali. Remember that?”

“How could I forget?” Sean smiled. “It did seem like a miracle we found you guys.”

“They tend to happen more than you think. ‘Course you was just a young pup back then,” Finn said thoughtfully as he looked to the shoreline. “Yeah, you were strong. Guarded. Learning your street smarts and comin’ into your own, but…still scared as all hell. You didn’t have that fearlessness about you yet. And you sure didn’t know your own strength. You thought it came from Daniel, and okay, maybe some of it did. For me too. But geez, look at you now, Sean Diaz,” he breathed. “You made it here. You actually goddamn made it.”

“Yeah,” the boy smirked, mesmerized by the waves beneath an overcast sky. “Guess I did, didn’t I? Just not exactly proud of it,” he sighed. “Feels like we’re in an endless loop to nowhere. Don’t get me wrong Finn, I’m…glad I have you,” he smiled, holding his partner’s hand. “Always. But where do we go from here? I haven’t thought about what I’d do with my freedom even if I had it.”

“That’s the rub, ain’t it? Shit, even them coconut cocktails get old after a while,” Finn admitted. “Not that it’s our fault. Guys like you and me, our lives became about survival too young. We been doin’ it since we were kids and sure, we’re goddamn good at it. Still doin’ it. But in the end…ain’t no way to live.”

“Yeah,” Sean breathed mournfully. “Even Daniel knew that when he jumped out of the car. Hell, looking back, I would’ve jumped with him. But I was stubborn. So bent on getting here and evading the cops that I couldn’t think straight. Never could see anything beyond that last curve,” he said, taking a long gulp of coffee.

“Okay, well let’s say you had jumped,” Finn mused, taking another hit of weed. “You’d be rotting in a cell right now. And that prison would’ve been the same for you, Sean. No end, no beginning. Hell, I’d wager it’d be worse. But that’s not what went down. So enough of that sad shit, brother. Now that it’s the New Year,” the hippie grinned, setting a hand on his knee, “what you lookin’ to make of it? We can only go with the flow, like I always say.”

“I mean…we could always get married.”

“Fuck you, Diaz!” Finn giggled, erupting in laughter.

“Yeah, that one worked out great for my parents, right?” Sean chuckled, finishing off his coffee. “Marriage ain’t for guys like us. But come on, we’re already dealing in drugs, you gotta admit a jewelry heist might be fun. Good excuse to get you a ring.”

“You kiddin’? I got enough rings right here in my dreads,” the hippie pointed out, tearing one free from his many locks. It was a silver piece with a skull design. “And you got skinny-ass fingers, lemme see.”

Sean smiled at his partner, breath catching in his throat as Finn took his left hand and proceeded to slide it on. It was a bit loose and reached to his knuckle. Not meant for a human finger, but it worked. The dreadlocked young man knelt down and kissed his hand, then looked him in the eyes.

“You serious right now?” Sean grinned in disbelief.

“Dead ass! We been through hell and high tides in this shitty little town, and ain’t no one I’d rather have by my side,” he smiled. “So here’s to twenty twenty-two! Love you, sweetie. Always have, always will. And we don’t need no…churches or contracts for that.”

“I love you too Finn,” Sean smiled as they kissed. He still was unsure about what the year held in store for them both, but in some ways, it didn’t matter. And before he knew it, those thoughts, too, had receded with the Pacific tides. They had each other, and Finn would always be there to look after him and their ‘business’. That was all that mattered now. Whatever else was on the horizon could wait.

“Whew, I’m gettin’ a little toasty,” the hippie said, removing his knit Baja hoodie. Sean followed suit, admiring his ring once he’d slipped out of his ragged xSquad apparel. Finn, shirtless and covered in various tattoos, reached for their Polaroid camera. It was something they’d found in one of the many cars they’d worked on, and Finn took every excuse to use it. At least it’s more secure than digital, Sean thought. Something about the name written in Sharpie on the side gave it an extra charm. Wonder who William Price was. All right, let’s not look stupid. This is your first wedding picture, after all. Sort of.

“Selfie time?”

“Hell yeah!” Finn grinned, loosely tying his dreads back and throwing on a pair of cheesy shades they’d taken from another car. “Our first photo as official partners! You ready?” the boy smiled, throwing an arm around Sean.

“Always! Wait, who are we even gonna send this to?”

“I mean, I was thinkin’ we could just put it up on our fireplace mantle, you know,” the hippie chuckled. Sean laughed. They didn’t have a fireplace.

“You’re so corny,” he smiled, doing his best not to squint as the sun at last broke through the clouds. Finn rocked a devil horns pose as Sean held the camera. “Okay. Say Happy New Year on one…two…three…”

“Happy New Year!” they exclaimed in unison.

But soon after the click of the camera, Sean noticed a group of dark shadows on the ground. Another series of clicks came from behind them. Bad clicks. The two bolted around to see a gang of heavily-tatted men with handguns, led by none other than Rico Marquez—Gilberto’s righthand man. The skinny boy flashed a gold-toothed smile at them as he stepped forward.

“Sean Eduardo Diaz, whassup muchacho?” he smirked, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Been too long.”

“The fuck you want, Rico?” Sean scowled. He pushed his way ahead of Finn to shield him.

“Boss wants a word with you, pendejo. And only you.”

*          *          *

It was midday by the time they arrived in Santa Ana. For the entire duration of the three-hour drive, Sean sat sandwiched in the back seat between Rico and another gang member he didn’t recognize, crinkling his nose at the arid stench of them all. Part of him wanted to put a stop to it right then and there. Smash Rico’s head into the window, knock out the other henchmen and steal his gun, blow the front passenger’s brains out all over the windshield. When the driver ground to a halt, he’d steal the car and head straight back to Puerto Lobos. Easy peasy. But if he did, it would only be a matter of time before Gilberto sent another team of goons to retrieve him, and those guys wouldn’t be as understanding. He kept his head down and his mouth shut.

Once they arrived in the city and turned into the back alley of Club Saturno, Sean’s heart sunk. Nausea gave way to a flood of bad memories. He remembered Mindy standing there at the bar, radiant and beautiful, bathed in a glowing blue light. He remembered what they spoke of, how he’d lied to her. He remembered Jorgé at his side, demanding he carry out their sordid plan of drugging young girls before whisking them off into the shadows. And he remembered the motel room full of blood. It all made him sick to his stomach, even as he was shoved through the back door and led down the long hall onto the main floor. Thankfully this time, the club was closed.

Sean caught sight of Gilberto seated on the upper mezzanine aside a row of windows that overlooked the city. So I guess this is one of those kinds of meetings. Good. Maybe I’m safe for now? God, I hope. His heart thudded in his chest as they ascended the stairs. The portly, mustached man was cutting apart a fat juicy steak when the pair stepped up. Sean noticed an empty plate at the two-person table.

“Hey, Sean Diaz, my favorite outlaw! Please, have a seat.” The boy hesitated a moment. He had already sweat a few buckets on the ride over. Much as Gilberto could be good-natured in appearance, he was also one of the most dangerous men in Mexico, a fact not lost on Sean. He had a feeling this meeting was a long time coming too, ever since he’d called Chris that time back in November. The man repeated himself firmly. “Sit. Down.”

“S-Sorry.” Sean immediately plastered himself to the chair. He did his best to avert Gilberto’s gaze for as long as he could, surveying the midday sun shining bright over the city below.

“How do you like your steak done?” Gilberto asked, pouring them both a glass of red wine.

“Uh…m-medium rare sounds good, I guess.”

“A man after my own heart.” He snapped his fingers to alert a waiter standing against the far wall out of earshot. “Hey! El filete jugoso, por favor.”

The man nodded and scampered off. By now, Sean noticed that Rico had left them as well. Great, he thought. I’m alone with the devil himself. He quickly chugged the glass of wine. Gilberto continued eating his meal in relative silence, making small talk until the waiter returned a few minutes later with a generous helping of sliced steak and steamed vegetables. Once he took his leave, the man finally spoke.

“So,” he said, as Sean dug into his food. “Time to get down to business, eh?” The young boy dropped his fork in response and reached for the bottle of wine again. He had a feeling he’d need it.

“You don’t mind if I, uh-”

“Please, not at all!” the man chuckled. “Always keep a full stock on site.”

“Right. Thanks.” Sean poured away, but noticed Gilberto’s expression fall serious as he finished. He slowly set the bottle down and reached for the glass, but something about that frown made him freeze as they stared one another in the eye. “Listen,” he said shakily. “Look Gilberto, I uh…I know I fucked up some things. I know sometimes we…don’t get the cars done on time, but-”

“The least of your worries,” the man cut him off, lighting up a cigar. “Sean, I don’t give a fuck about your work ethic. It’s never been a problem. The level to which you’ve betrayed me, on the other hand…this, I cannot forgive,” Gilberto scowled, gazing out the window. “Truth is, I should’ve disposed of you long ago. You have been dishonest with me about a great many things, amigo,” he sighed. “A great many things. And yet it is regrettably those very things which continue to make you of use to me, and so I must keep you alive awhile longer. Regrettably,” he repeated.

“I…I-I don’t follow,” Sean trembled.

“You dare sit at my table and insult my intelligence?”

“No sir.”

“Good. Because I have many ways of ensuring your continued cooperation,” Gilberto said, clenching his jaw. “So...I trust you know of my daughter Catalina, yes?”

“Uh…” the boy panicked, rubbing his sweaty hands on his cargo shorts. “I…might have heard of her once? From Jorgé, that night at the motel before everything went to shit. He said you had her shipped off to the States.”

“And yet you seem to remember this well enough to discuss it with FBI pigs,” the man frowned, flicking his cigar in a small ashtray.

A wave of nausea ripped across Sean’s stomach. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

“YES!” he spat, banging his fist on the table and bolting from the chair. “Because your FUCKING goons tried to kill my brother!”

Gilberto let out a giggle, but held his composure.

“Sean, you ran off with my money, AMIGO!" he raised his voice. "You left me no other choice. And that also meant protecting my most vital asset, once I discovered your brother was the reason these federales would not leave Beaver Creek! Bad for business, you understand," he chuckled. "Curious how they seem to follow him around, no?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sean swallowed the lump in his throat. Gilberto didn’t know. He couldn’t. There was no way. Right? “They just…want to make sure he’s safe.”

“There you go again with the lies, Diaz! See, I am not so convinced,” Gilberto frowned, tapping a liberal dose of cigar ash on Sean's uneaten steak. “There is much I’ve always struggled to understand regarding your past with Daniel, so I did a bit of digging. A contact of mine, real friendly border patrol officer named Spencer, provided me with your police transcripts from 2017,” he explained, digging out a thick file folder from a bag aside the chair. Sean’s heart sunk as the man slapped it on the table and skimmed through the documents, meanwhile racking his brain to remember where he'd heard that name before. Spencer. Of course. That asshole the vigilantes wouldn't shut up about. “What I find most interesting is this series of unexplained explosions,” Gilberto muttered.

“Th-that doesn’t mean shit!” Sean insisted, returning to his chair.

“Oh, I think it does. Why else would the FBI stick around in Beaver Creek so long after your departure? Then this incident with a school bus,” Gilberto said, placing a newspaper clipping in front of him.

“They call it a 'miracle'. You see Sean, we both want to protect what matters most. Believe me, I know what it’s like to deal with an unruly child who is…different,” the man sighed.

“I’m nothing like you!” Sean spat.

“Clearly not. And yet it seems fate has other plans for us both,” he said, placing a photograph on the table of Daniel and Catalina boarding a school bus together. “Looking back on it now, I have no doubts she intended for this to happen. Mi hija del infierno. But as irony goes,” he smiled, “it all works in my favor.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean!” Sean frowned.

“Opportunity. Certainly, they will be of greater use to me together than they ever could be alone,” Gilberto said, his tone dark. “Once my daughter is finished being the family spectacle she insists on being to anger me,” he clenched his teeth, “I’ll attempt to reason with her again. But mark my words. If I cannot have my own daughter to secure my little empire, or if anything should happen to her…I will have Daniel.”

At first, Sean felt his anxiety give way to a seething anger that burned hotter than the midday sun beneath the surface of his golden skin. For months now, he had repressed the inner wolf inside him to the point he scarcely believed it still existed, yet sure enough, the beast came bounding back with all the force of a locomotive. He was ready to pounce. To bite. To sink the full weight of his rage into the first person or animal that might threaten his little brother. To kill.

Then he remembered the strength of the boy he’d taught to stand strong on his own. He remembered the sting of sheer willpower Daniel displayed as he jumped out of the car, determined not to go with him. He remembered endless days of chastising himself for not seeing the signs earlier, for trying to force his own will on a child who never wanted to go to Puerto Lobos in the first place. Sean stifled a laugh, even as he rose from the chair and leaned into Gilberto’s face.  

“You have no fucking idea what he’s capable of,” he spat. “You think I’m your worst enemy? He’ll have you pinned up against the wall choking on your last breath until you beg him to snap your neck like a twig. I’ve seen him do it. So go ahead. Underestimate him. Because I made that mistake once, and it cost me an eye. He won't be so nice with you.”

Gilberto grinned and let out a chuckle, but fell serious when he saw Sean wasn’t kidding. The boy walked off, snatching another bottle of wine on his way out from a nearby table that had an assortment of stock, no doubt meant for a private party his employer was throwing later.

“YOU'LL NEVER BE FREE, DIAZ!” the man barked. “You’ll work for me until the day you die!”

“Think I give a shit? I’ve already been through hell,” Sean said, turning around as he backed out the door. “But it sounds like your time is just beginning. Good talk, Berto. And thanks for the wine. This'll make a good wedding present.”

Chapter Text

A fresh blanket of snow had fallen over Beaver Creek earlier that afternoon. Daniel shivered in the crisp evening air as he stood back from the tree with a dull pocketknife in hand, admiring his handiwork. Claire wouldn’t be too pleased when she found it. He didn’t care. The illustration was something he had planned to add for some time. The original ‘Wolf Brothers’ text itself had been there ever since their first visit. Stephen, at least, was in favor of it.

“Happy New Year, Sean,” he sighed, thumbing away the leftover debris. Over the years, he liked to envision them that way in his mind. Running free, together, and happy in some alternate reality that only Catalina was able to see. It had been over a month now that she’d been gone, too. And while his heart ached from her absence, Chris’s absence, and certainly Sean’s, there wasn’t much he could do. The ground had caved beneath him, a feeling the bitter cold months made worse.

Following a couple weeks during which he’d made TikToks of his depression struggles, Santiago messaged him with a job offer at the movie theater downtown where one of his friends worked. He said they hired fourteen-year-olds. It was under-the-table pay for cleaning, but Daniel happily agreed. Anything was better than being cooped up in the house all day with Claire and her boring cooking shows. And it was a good opportunity to make new friends.

“Daniel, you ready for work?” his grandmother called from the back door.

“Yeah, just a sec,” he answered, making sure the details of the carving were to his liking.

“What’s that in your hand?”

“Huh? Oh um, nothing, just found a screwdriver on the ground,” he lied, shoving the blade in his hoodie pocket.

“Ugh, I told Stephen not to tinker with his tools out there! The dog could get hurt.”

“Nah, she mostly sticks to the back porch,” Daniel assured her as he came through the door.

“So I noticed,” the woman sighed. “Still messing up my flower boxes after four years.”

“So why do you still keep them out there?”

“Not sure. Guess an old dog like me can’t learn new tricks either,” Claire snickered, grabbing the car keys off the rack in the hall. “Old habits die hard when you get to be my age. So what do they have you doing at this job of yours, anyway?”

“Just cleaning up for now. Sweeping aisles, taking out trash, vacuuming. Ethan showed me the projection booths last week. We found this huge box of unlabeled film reels, so we’re going to check them out after closing.”

“Sounds like fun,” Claire smiled. The two headed through the laundry room and out the garage door. “I’m so glad you’re getting along with everyone there.”

“It’s so awesome! Ethan gives me leftover Chock-O-Crisps from the stand when they have to get rid of them, too. We get free movie passes, advance screenings. Best thing that happened to me in a while.”

“It’s good to see you happy again, job aside,” Claire said as they got in the car.

“Yeah,” Daniel smiled, but he sensed there was more to it. “Wait…what do you mean?”

“Well, you talk an awful lot about that Ethan character. He sounds like a nice boy.”

“No I—! Uh…yeah,” he laughed nervously. “Guess I do talk about him. B-But everyone else is cool too!”

That scared him. He hadn’t realized how much he was dropping his newfound friend’s name in conversation, but it was hard not to talk about the job without mentioning him. Ethan was Santiago’s friend, and one of Beaver Creek High’s star basketball players. He was fifteen, taller than Daniel at five-nine, had crystal blue eyes and freckles with short dark hair. And a perfect smile. And a toned athletic build. And that jawline…okay, so it’s a thing.

Whenever Daniel was cleaning the lobby, he’d steal glances at the boy as he took inventory behind the counter. He was cute. It all seemed innocent enough. So far. But the previous couple days they had worked together, Daniel caught him looking back a couple times. Then he showed him around the Theater 4 projection booth for what he claimed was a cleaning assignment, offhandedly mentioning that it was his favorite place to hang after hours. ‘Lot of secrets in here, but you can’t tell anyone.’ Daniel didn’t know what he meant, being that Theater 4 was closed to the public for seating renovations. But it was where Ethan found the box of old film reels. Guess I’ll find out tonight.

He and Claire arrived at the Eagle Cinema in about fifteen minutes. On the way, she mentioned Stephen’s mobility troubles and questioned Daniel about whether his driving was getting worse. He denied it, of course. It was still their secret—at least for as long as it could be kept. Maybe I’ll check out the power chair store after work one of these days. I’ll save up if I have to. Grandpa needs an easier way to get around.

“Well…you let me know how he does when he picks you up tonight, okay? I just worry about him on the road.”

“I know. It’s okay, Grandma. I always watch him.”

“Oh, Daniel. We’re both so very proud of you,” Claire smiled, squeezing his hand. “Bless your heart, you’ve been through so much. But you still haven’t let it change who you are. I know we don’t talk about the past often, but…I know your father would be proud of you. And…Sean too.”

“Yeah...uh, sorry to ruin the moment, but I really have to clock in!” the boy deflected, removing his black winter coat and sliding into the maroon button-down vest. It was the only part of his work uniform he liked.

“Of course, don’t let me keep you,” she giggled. “Have a good shift sweetie.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“You too.”

*          *          *

Upon entering the cinema, Daniel noticed the lobby was empty, save for a group of four seniors and a young college couple buying popcorn. Something about the ancient dusty smells, faded pastel colors, and dim neon lights felt oddly welcoming. Must be another slow night. Good. He counted himself lucky to be working in the winter months. The theater job had so far been relaxed. Heather and Kai, two of his favorite coworkers, were running the concession stand on the right.

“Hey guys,” he waved.

“Sup, Daniel!” Kai smiled, filling several soft drinks. Kai was an emo trans boy about Daniel's size, Japanese-American with straight, side-swooped hair. He'd put a lot of effort into speaking with a deeper voice recently, and was rightly proud of it. So far, Daniel got along quite well with him. They’d traded playlists on their last shift together, and Kai always talked shit on BTS for some reason. He’s too cool. “Welcome to the party.”

“Looks like a rager! What’s the big hit tonight?”

“Well, the seniors here go for Hugo. For the younger crowd, it’s The Grey. Because ya know, a group of men getting stalked to death in the Arctic by wolves is just…cozy with all this snow, I guess?”

“It has wolves?” Daniel asked excitedly.

“Yep!” Kai chuckled. “Not a big man-against-nature fan myself, but I know wolves are your thing. By the way, grab yourself a popcorn and have a seat in Theater 2 if you want to watch for a bit. Boss lady said we can. It’s been dead, most of the cleaning was done by afternoon crew. Everyone pretty much left when the snow started, but they’re still making us stay open until nine,” he sighed.

“Gotta catch those last minute diner crowds,” Daniel groaned.

“Fun, right? Um, Ethan said to let you know he’s been looking for you…by the way.”

“Oh!” Daniel laughed. “Yeah, I usually get here early.”

“He’s on break, probably vaping out back as usual.”

“Cool. I guess I’ll just wait for him.” Daniel plodded around the length of the counter to the employee entrance to scribble his clock-in time on the minors' sheet, then washed his hands in the corner basin before grabbing a popcorn.

“So, you and Ethan, huh?” Heather grinned as she finished cashing out the college couple.

“W-What about him?” Great. They’d noticed too.

“Come on, dude. It’s so obvious! We see you,” she said, pointing from her eyes to him. “Queer surveillance, bruh. We’re everywhere.”

“Are we?” Kai frowned, sipping on a red slushie. “Or is that just you, Miss Gossip Queen of Seventeen?”

“Oh, like you haven’t been ogling the star basketball player too?”

“It’s complicated, Heather.”

“How? You totally pretend to avoid him.”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t pretend. Second, it’s none of your damn business!" he spat. "Just some shit with his older brother I’d rather not get into...” Kai shot Daniel a worried look.

Oh no, Daniel thought. What’d I walk into?

“Fiiine," Heather huffed. "Sorry. Just used to the gays at my school being up in each other’s sphincters.” The blond, curly-haired girl let out a long-winded sigh at the sight of a large group of teens trekking from across the street toward the entrance. “Oh look. More customers. This does not spark joy.”

“Yep, and they’re all yours!” the Asian boy grinned, patting her on the back. “Gotta talk to Danny here privately for a sec.”

Heather looked personally insulted. “Come on dude, that’s like, ten people!”

“Hey, look me in the eye,” Kai said with feigned sincerity as he stroked her cheek. “You know I love you…right?” With that, he planted a quick peck on her forehead, then grabbed Daniel’s hand and bolted out the door before she could chase after them.

“Try that again and I’ll shred the Luca reels!” she shouted.

Kai led Daniel to the men’s room at the far end of the darkened hall. Daniel tried to take stock of how many theaters were open as he went, but it was a pointless distraction. Man, I really hope Ethan’s not a bad guy. He’s been really nice to me so far. Didn’t he say his brother’s off at college? Maybe he’s a frat douche. As they entered the bathroom, Kai checked the stalls to be sure they were alone before talking.

“Just a quick perimeter sweep," he muttered. "Okay good. So...Ethan's brother Eric is a major frat douche.” Called it. “I was gonna text you about all this, but I figured in person is easier,” the boy said, catching his breath. “Look, I know you like Ethan, okay? Not that I blame you, he’s got a cute face and a nice bod. But dude, I’m telling you right now, you need to be extra careful around him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s covering for something his brother did,” Kai breathed, double-checking the stalls again. Daniel didn’t like where this was going, but he locked the bathroom door for his friend’s comfort. “Listen, you can’t tell anybody about this. My sister made me swear! Can I trust you?”

“I swear!”

“Okay,” the boy panted, starting to pace. “So Eric and my sister Lin, they go to college at Portland University. They dated for a little over the summer, then she broke up with him ‘cause he kept pressuring her for sex. Well, he didn’t like that. Started stalking her, sending harassing messages, his frat guys flattened her tires and keyed the shit out of her car. She was about to drop out until they stopped. Then this past fall, she went to a party with some friends at a house off campus. Eric was there. Long story short, she got drunk. His buddies got her alone, and he…assaulted her,” he trembled.

“Holy shit dude!” Daniel gasped, heart dropping to his stomach. “I was wondering why you get all weird around Ethan.”

“Yeah, I just keep my head down, try to stay busy. Try not to think about it…” Kai backed against the wall and slid down, hanging his head. “What kills me is I know I need to say something! Speak up, be the strong brother. But Lin doesn’t want me to. We always keep each other’s secrets. She says I’ve got enough problems with our parents, and to be honest, she’s kinda right.”

“What kind of problems?” Daniel asked. Kai raised an eyebrow and gestured over himself. “Oh…right.”

“For now, they think I just wear guy clothes 'cause I'm a tomboy, but that’s bad enough in their eyes. Anyway...me and Ethan started working here around the beginning of December. Didn’t even know they were brothers at first. Then one night, I went to get some air and overheard them talking out back. Eric was fucking bragging about what he did to my sister! And Ethan didn’t say shit! Like how the fuck?!” The more masculine voice Kai usually kept a tight control of in public places suddenly broke as he cried. He must feel so powerless. It hurts to hear him upset like that. I gotta look out for him.

“That’s messed up! Dude, I’m so sorry,” Daniel said, joining him on the floor.

“Not as sorry as me,” Kai sniffled.

“So…I mean, what would happen if you did tell your parents?”

“Lin would deny it for sure. Then they’d accuse me of making shit up for attention and probably fucking disown me,” the boy whimpered, hugging his knees. “But I’m more worried about how she’d take it. My parents already threatened to cut her off if she didn’t take the courses they wanted her to. And now her grades are slipping so they think she’s just being lazy, but she’s so upset and scared!”

“Whoa. That’s bullshit, she doesn’t deserve that!”

“Yeah…I mean in all fairness, it’s not like they know,” he breathed. “But it’s how stuck on tradition my parents are. Typical Asians. Especially my fucking tiger mom. Doesn’t help either of us,” he sighed. “And I worry every day that Lin's texts to me will eventually stop. All I can do is FaceTime her every morning and night and hope she’s okay in between! Still feels like I’m not doing enough.”

“Trust me, you are.”

“But how long is that gonna work? Just don’t say anything, Daniel! Please...”

“I won’t. But you can’t just let this go, Kai! Trust me, I had to be the stronger brother sometimes when I got scared. And there were times I just…let Sean handle shit on his own, which only made things worse. Still feel guilty for a lot.” Kai sniffled again, so Daniel put an arm around him. “Dude, don’t worry, okay? We’ll figure out a way to help Lin together. Promise.”

“Thanks man, that means a lot,” the boy said, leaning against his shoulder. “You know, you’re really fuckin’ awesome Daniel. I’m lucky to know you.”

Maybe luckier than he knows. Daniel felt his heart begin to flutter as a rush of heat overcame him. He couldn’t be sure if it was anger and determination, or something else. After all, it was his first time holding anyone this close ever since that last night with Chris. Then there was Ethan too. That’s looking like a bust. But he tried not to dwell on those things. It wasn’t the time or place, especially after what Kai had told him. I’ve gotta make a plan to help. But for now, I might as well cheer him up.

“Damn. And you told me you didn’t have a reason to be emo,” Daniel joked, breaking the silence.

“Shut up, I’m sure you do too!” Kai laughed.

“Ohhh yeah. Got a whole bag of those. But I’ll always have your back, ya know?”

“That’s why I trust you with this. Like, I know we’re still getting to know each other, so I didn’t mean to drop a bomb like that. But you do seem pretty fuckin’ rad. Now you just have to see me outside work with eyeliner and fake snakebites!” he giggled. “And without this stupid vest.”

“Looks good over the Black Veil Brides shirt though.”

“Thanks. I try to make it work. Looks like you do too with your, uh…” Kai unbuttoned Daniel’s vest to get a closer look. “Fire Walk shirt, nice!”

“Oh, this is my boyf-…I-I mean, my ex’s shirt! Great," he sighed. "Forgot I put this on when Grandma was doing laundry. Me and Chris are…well, I don’t know what we are now.”

“It’s cool. Guessing you don’t want to talk about him anyway.”

“Hell no. So,” the boy said, picking at his popcorn, “you feel like watching The Grey with me?”

“Yeah sure, why the hell not,” Kai smiled, rising to his feet with renewed spirits and adjusting the vest over his slight frame. “If it gets my mind off shit. Plus hanging with you really helps.”

“Cool,” Daniel stood to join him. “Um…so about the thing with Ethan. What do you want me to do? He sorta invited me to chill with him in Theater 4 after work.” He bit his lip. And strongly considered biting off his tongue. “We were just gonna check out some old film reels we found. I mean if you’d rather I not-”

“It’s…cool,” Kai breathed, crossing his arms. “Actually, I am a little curious what he keeps up there.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s the only one with a key. Which he stole, by the way. And that night I was out back? His brother handed him this big paper bag. Looked kinda heavy. I saw him head up there with it right after, so maybe it’s still up there.”

“I didn’t see anything when he showed me around the other night, but it was kinda dark. I can check though.”

“Cool...”

Daniel tried setting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but Kai backed away cradling himself. Oh no. I’m fucking things up, aren’t I? And I’m not even using my powers this time.

“Dude, are you okay? Talk to me.”

“Yeah no, just…look, Daniel…I don’t know what to say,” Kai said, hanging his head again. “I’m scared, okay? Not just for me or my sister but for you, and I really don’t want you to end up getting hurt. Besides…I haven’t been good at making friends. At least not ones like you. ‘Cause I’m, well…" he gestured over himself again. "I’m just me. And I’m short and I’m trans, and you probably don’t even-”

“Shut up,” Daniel cut him off gently. “Just…stop. You’re fucking cool, okay?” he smiled, looking him in the eye. “Like, really cool. I promise.”

“For real, no cap?”

“On god!” Daniel laughed, and so did Kai. “So don’t talk bad about yourself, because I know you’re more of a badass than that dumb voice in your head. 'Silenzio Bruno', right? Plus whatever’s gonna happen isn’t even here yet, so don’t think about it right now. Let’s just watch a movie and chill. Okay?”

“Yeah…that sounds good,” Kai smiled, taking his hand as he led them out.

“Cool,” Daniel smiled back. “See, you’re fine. I got you.”

“Just don’t get mad if I cringe, okay? Man-against-nature. Yuck.”

“I kinda like survival shit. Probably ‘cause I lived it for a while.”

“Huh?”

Daniel let out a long sigh. “Google my name and you can read all about it,” he said, offering his popcorn. Kai took a few pieces.

“Nah, it’s cool. Don’t have to.”

Daniel was taken aback. “Wait, really? Most people want to know.”

“I’m not ‘most people’, dude. Don’t exactly like digging into the past. Hell, I wouldn’t want people reading about mine. You deserve a fresh start. I want to know you as Daniel Diaz, the person. Not some myth cooked up by bored ex-Buzzfeed journalists,” he laughed.

“Wow. Thanks! That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“Feels good, right?”

“It really does.”

As the two headed into the theater and took a seat in the back center row, Daniel smiled. It did feel good to be making new friends in unexpected places again—especially ones he knew he wouldn’t have to leave. But he was also somewhat fearful of what lie ahead in the dark of the projection booth upstairs. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle himself; life on the road, after all, had taught him he could. But something in Beaver Creek felt inexplicably off. It had for years. And whatever it was, he got the sense that those old film reels might hold a clue to the bigger puzzle.

*          *          *

The Grey ended about forty minutes later. Kai had fallen fast asleep on Daniel’s shoulder about ten minutes in, which he didn’t mind. But now that the lights had come on, it was time to get to work. Ethan strolled in a few moments later with a broom and dustpan as the last of the end credits wrapped. Daniel sunk down in his seat and gently elbowed his friend awake.

“Psst, Kai! Heads up, dude!”

“Mmm, what? Oh shit, what time is it?!” he panicked, digging out his phone.

“Quarter after seven.”

“Crap, my mom’s been texting me. I told her to come get me early, I didn’t think we’d be here this late-”

“Yo!” Ethan interrupted from the bottom of the aisle. “What the fuck you guys doin’?! Daniel, we’re on cleanup bro, let’s go!”

“S-Sorry!” He quickly scrambled up from his seat with Kai, who shot him a nervous look. “Don’t worry dude, I’ll be fine,” he assured him. As they worked their way out of the aisle, Cindi, the assistant manager, came charging in. Weird that I haven’t seen her yet. She’s usually up front, Daniel thought. Probably double-checking inventory.

“Ethan, if I have to tell you to watch your language one more time, I’m writing you up!” she said firmly. “We’re still open for another hour and we got customers in the lobby who heard your mouth earlier. Kai buddy, you’re good to go, you been here since two-thirty. Daniel, what ya doin’ here?” she laughed. “I’m so sorry honey, I meant to call you off!”

“Oh! It’s cool,” he chuckled. “Um, I can still help out if you need me to.”

“What time you start?”

“Like an hour ago.”

“Ah, you’re still good. You can clean up in here with Ethan, then work your way up to the lobby until Hugo gets out. Then Luca starts in fifteen minutes,” she said, checking her watch. “Which is perfect! Looks like we’ll actually get out of here on time for once, boys! Keep up the great work, I appreciate you.”

“Thanks!” Daniel smiled. “I’m just gonna say bye to Kai if that's okay.”

“Alright, make it quick.”

He took his new friend’s hand and they exited the theater. Daniel looked back at Ethan on the way, who shot him an angry look. Shit. I don’t know how us hanging out later is gonna go. But it’s been an hour since I clocked in and he wanted to talk to me. Or does he know something? God, I hope not. Already got stuck in the middle with Chris and Cat. Not making that mistake again. The two boys stopped in the lobby near the row of movie posters. Kai cradled himself again, seeming anxious.

“Is it stupid I don’t want to leave you alone with him?” he forced chuckle. “I mean, I kinda thought about it, and…Daniel, please don’t go up there tonight. He’s five-nine, strong as hell, he could easily overpower-” The boy cracked up, cutting him off with a giggle. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ll tell you when we hang outside of work,” he smirked. “For now, let’s just say…I’m really good at taking care of myself.”

“Hope so,” Kai sighed. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.”

“Daniel, come on!” Ethan called from behind them. Great.

“Good luck with that,” the Asian boy cringed. “Well, gotta jet before my mom kills me. See ya tomorrow if we’re open.” They bumped fists before he headed off.

“Just remember you’re a badass!” Daniel called as he headed for the doors. Kai turned back and smiled with a thumbs-up on the way out. Really hope he’s safe at home, he thought. Now to deal with Ethan. He made his way over to the maintenance closet to grab gloves and a couple trash bags, then headed back to the theater. He decided to start near the very front with the boy. Not that he’d be comfortable talking to him now, but he felt it best to address any awkwardness before closing time.

As he started picking up empty soda cups and leftover popcorn bags from the seats, the end credits continued to roll on the screen. The young athlete looked his way a few times, perhaps reading whether he’d be open to conversation—or just waiting for the credits to stop so he could talk. Daniel felt his heart pound the closer they each moved toward the middle of the row. Before long, there was a loud pop from the speakers in the theater as the audio cut out, startling them both. Guess that’s our cue. Ethan abruptly stopped sweeping, and Daniel stopped collecting garbage. They both eyed each other, several feet apart now.

“So,” Ethan sighed. “I see you’ve been talking to Kai.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I don’t know. We always chill for a bit before you start. Thought you’d come hang out back, maybe hit my vape again.”         

“Sorry. He’s just been going through some stuff and really needed to talk.” And I don’t like what the vape does to me. The first time he’d hit it, Daniel felt something grow weak inside him and ran for the bathroom with his drink to test his powers. It had taken several minutes before he could lift the cup off the counter. Guess it’s no vices for me. That sucks.

“Yeah, Kai talks a lot,” Ethan rolled his eyes. “What’d he say?”

“None of your business,” Daniel frowned, continuing to collect trash. “Why do you care? It’s not like I’m into him or anything. Besides, I want to make new friends.”

“I know, it’s cool. Sorry.” Ethan seemed hesitant as he kept sweeping. “So, um…you didn’t tell him I showed you the projection booth, right?”

“No,” Daniel lied. “Why would I?”

“Good. ‘Cause I’m not trying to lose my job for going up there.”

“Ethan if you’re gonna be douche, just don’t talk to me, okay?” the boy frowned. “I don’t get you. Santiago said you’re cool, but…you’re kind of a dick.”  

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Wonder why.”

“Daniel,” the boy huffed, setting down the broom. “Listen, I…I do like you. Okay?”

“I know,” Daniel replied, his tone sympathetic. He tossed the trash bag down. “And I know you can’t be out about it. Still doesn’t mean you have to be an ass.”

“Yeah, but…guys are fresh territory for me, okay? I don’t know how to act, I don’t-”

“See, don’t act!” Daniel cut him off. “That’s the problem, you’re doing this whole ‘tough guy’ bullshit. Just be yourself. You’re so used to trying to impress girls, you think boys are the same. Trust me, you don’t have to work as hard. Especially not with those abs,” he smirked.

“Oh, so you like my abs, huh?” Ethan grinned, lifting his shirt.

“...Maybe a little." The boy blushed when he noticed. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Wanna feel?”

“You know we're supposed to be working, right?” Daniel chuckled.

“Come on. You know you want to. Plus it's not like anybody's in here.”

“Okay, now you’re trying too hard.”

“Am I?” Ethan smiled, approaching him.

Daniel froze. A shiver ran down his spine. He hated that even more, because it was the second feeling he’d had that night that felt impossible to decipher. Was it desire, or a warning? Ethan was undeniably sexy. He’d spent a whole two weeks checking him out. But he hadn’t expected it would be reciprocated, and now he couldn’t ignore what Kai had told him, either. What if he’s just like his brother? Maybe I gave him the wrong impression. Whatever you do Daniel, stand your ground. But the moment Ethan reached out to stroke his face, he found himself feeling weak.

“W-What are you doing?” the smaller boy stammered.

“Don’t know,” Ethan grinned sheepishly, brushing a few charcoal locks from his eyes. “You’re so fucking cute, you know that?”

Daniel took a deep breath to recenter himself. Not that he wanted to.

“Look, we should really get back to work,” he breathed. Ethan looked hurt.

“You don’t like me now?”

“I didn’t say that. I just…we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

“Whatever. Figured Kai said some shit,” the teen scoffed, turning back.

“Ethan...come on,” Daniel groaned. “Don’t be like that.”

“Nah, you want to work, let’s get back to work.”

“Goddamn it,” the boy sighed, picking up the trash bag again. Really wish Cindi had called me off. Tonight really sucks.

Chapter Text

The two continued their cleaning rounds in relative silence as they worked their way out to the lobby, then to Theater 5 before ending at Theater 1. The in-between moments were fraught with an unspoken tension. That tension led to annoyed glances, flirtatious looks, smiles, petty remarks, more annoyed glances, and occasional side-eyes. Daniel didn’t know what to make of it. He doubted Ethan did, either.

Once they closed up for the night and the lights dimmed, they waited in the back alley until Cindi left, as they’d done the previous week. Great, Daniel thought. Now I’m alone with him. We’re really not supposed to be here after close. And I lied to my grandparents so I could. He shivered in the cold, having left his jacket inside. Ethan leaned against a stack of pallets, hitting his vape and checking the time until it was safe to go back inside. Daniel remained on full alert as he kept watch in the silence. A freight train horn blared in the distant wind, followed by a police siren. Damn. That sound used to bother me so much. Not anymore.   

“Want to hit my vape?” the teen offered.

“No thanks. Makes me feel weird,” Daniel paused. “So does sneaking around like this.”

“Yeah,” Ethan admitted. “Look, I’m not trying to get you in trouble, okay? I swear. Truth is, I want to spend some time with you, and well…I’m not out, so it’s kind of the only way.”

“We can’t just hang as friends?” He went silent at that. “What are you expecting is gonna happen up there, Ethan?”

“N-Nothing, I just figured-”

“‘Cause I want to check out those reels, but if you’re gonna try anything, I’m out,” Daniel cut him off.

“Wow. I think you got me wrong. Why am I suddenly the bad guy?”

“You’re…you’re not,” Daniel sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind lately.” That wasn’t a lie. He still had passing moments where he thought of Chris, Catalina, and everything that had transpired in the fall. Danger still lurked around every corner, and he always had to be mindful of that. Ethan was no exception. Should I give him a chance? I don’t know. “Also, you just seem like you want to move kinda…fast.”

“Look, if you’re not comfortable, it can wait. Didn’t mean to come off like a dick earlier, I’m sorry. Fact is, I’m not exactly comfortable either,” the teen forced a laugh. “Especially not when my asshole brother comes to town.” Daniel’s ears perked up at that. “Aside from the fact you’re cute as hell, I like hanging with you, so…showing you around upstairs is kind of about me trusting you. Stupid, but. It’s kind of a hideout where I can be myself, ya know? And I need that.”

“So what kind of secrets you got up there, anyway?”

“Ehh…for one, I can’t exactly keep my porn stash at home,” he chuckled. Daniel laughed.

“I get it,” the boy nodded. “My ex kept his in the tree house.”

“Boys will be boys, right?” Ethan breathed. “Unless they become monsters.”

Daniel pondered what he meant as he watched him crank up the wattage on his vape and take a long hit. I’m guessing him and Eric don’t have the best relationship. Maybe Kai’s going off assumptions? I need to learn more, but I have to show him he can trust me first. He took a deep breath. Then he did the thing that scared him most.  

“Mind if I…take a hit?” he asked. The Super Wolf inside him writhed in anger, slamming its weight against the cage of his stomach. All of his senses screamed it was wrong. That he couldn’t defend himself with weakened powers, that it was a mistake to trust Ethan, that Kai was right and he had to be prepared for the absolute worst. But if I rely on my powers every time the worst happens, I tend to lose control and feel less like myself,  he reasoned. I’m not doing that if I can help it.

“Sure,” Ethan smiled, handing over the black device. “Thought you hated it.”

“I kinda do, but. Takes the edge off.” Daniel pressed the button and inhaled deep. A burst of strawberry watermelon came, followed by an immediate cloud of euphoria that fell over him like a tsunami. The wolf inside rattled its cage a moment. Then it went dizzy and fell asleep. He tried reaching out with his senses once the short-lived high dissipated. Nothing. It scared him a little, but in a way, he also felt free.

“Well hey, not sure about you, but I’m freezing my ass off out here,” the older teen shivered, prying the back door open with his pocketknife. He had placed a piece of duct tape over the auto-locking mechanism on their way out so the alarm wouldn’t trigger. “Ready to go back in? Cindi’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

*          *          *

Minutes later, Ethan had unlocked the door to the projection booth and swung it open, turning on the light as they entered. The room wasn’t much bigger than Daniel’s bedroom at home, yet it held so many interesting treasures. Three racks of popular films lined the left wall organized by specific decade, starting with the 1950’s and ending in 2017. The latest films were kept in a separate room where they could be rotated in and out as the trucks came.

To the right stood two projectors in front of a large window overlooking the theater. One held analog film reels, while the other was digital. A bookshelf with various magazines and comics stood against the far wall, aside a mini fridge and blue loveseat. The box of unlabeled reels sat beneath the coffee table.

While Ethan moved to pull them out, Daniel took advantage of the distraction and quickly scanned the room for the paper bag Kai had mentioned. He first checked beneath the computer desk against the wall, then behind the door. Nothing. But as he moved toward the center of the room, he located it to the right of the loveseat in the far corner. Score. Now I just have to figure out how to get to it without drawing his attention. Wonder what’s inside. Ethan looked up.

“You that curious, huh?”

“Hell yeah!” the boy marveled. “There’s so much cool stuff up here.”

“Could be better. I was thinking about bringing in a mattress, but I’m sure they’d notice,” Ethan strained, setting the heavy box on the table. “Plus they’re gonna finish the auditorium renovations in a couple weeks. Guess I’ll have to clean house,” he sighed. “I want to find something more permanent anyway. Maybe squat someplace on the weekends? I don’t know.”

“Plenty of abandoned buildings around the lakeside,” Daniel pointed out, running his finger along a row of dusty film reels on the racks. “God, I can just imagine my grandparents coming here on date nights back in the '70s to watch some of these!” he laughed. “Major cringe. But kinda cute, I guess. What’s your favorite movie?”

“Call Me By Your Name,” Ethan smiled.

“How did I know?” Daniel giggled.

 “My Own Private Idaho is the best we got from the '90s. Sad ending though. But my uncle says most gay movies are depressing,” he chuckled. “How about you?”

“Lord of the Rings,” Daniel replied with pride, though somewhat sadly. “My dad loved it. We used to watch the extended cuts every month when I was little. Just me, my brother, and him. Feels like a lifetime ago now. Like someone else’s life.”

“Oh. You never mentioned you had a brother.”

“Yeah, I don’t really like talking about it. Kinda hurts. But I still love him. We took off after my dad died. Lived on the road for a while. He wanted to go to Puerto Lobos,” the boy rolled his eyes. “I wanted to stay here. So I let him go. We haven’t talked since.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, dude.”

“It’s whatever,” Daniel shrugged, resuming his survey of the room. “Kinda over it.” He wasn’t, but it was certainly easier to brush it off than give Ethan a whole rundown of what happened. He was eager to ask about Eric too, but thought it best to bide his time—even if the opportunity seemed perfect. The last thing I need right now is to get him angry before my powers come back. He could feel still them, though very faintly.

“So, we got about an hour of time to check these out,” Ethan said. “Where do you want to start? There’s got to be at least twenty reels. I think all the cases are blank.” He proceeded to dig around in the box, laying them out on the table as he went. “Wait, there’s one near the bottom that’s got some masking tape.”

“What’s this one?” Daniel asked, digging into the center. “‘NWCN, Channel 6. Arcadia Bay Special Report, October 11th, 2018.’”

“Wanna check out that one?”

“Maybe. What do you got?”

“Looks boring. ‘Seattle Protests, Lewis Avenue, 11/5/2016’.”

“What the FUCK!” Daniel dropped his film reel and scrambled up from the coffee table, nearly knocking over the digital projector behind him. His senses immediately dialed all the way up. The urge to use his power the ransack the room was strong, yet he knew he could barely lift the pencils on the computer desk if he tried. He felt like screaming. Like throwing shit. Like sending the entire box of film reels crashing through the booth window to the theater floor. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Tears of pain and rage flooded his eyes.

“Daniel talk to me, what’s wrong?” Ethan panicked.

“WHERE DID YOU FIND THAT BOX?!" he shouted.

“Dude, calm down, it’s been up here since the first time I saw this room, I swear! What’s got you upset?”

“That was the fucking street I lived on, Ethan! Where my dad got fucking shot, just before Halloween that year! They were probably protesting the cops that week…FUCK!” Daniel sobbed, falling to his knees. “And I still miss my dad, all the time!”    

“Jesus, I’m so sorry!” Ethan said, joining him back on the floor. “Come here, dude.”

“No!” he cried. “WHY?! Why…” Daniel had so far been apprehensive about letting the boy touch him until he could feel his own strength again. He was without his powers. Defenseless. Weak. Vulnerable to attack. Small...human.