Sleep was sparse that night. But I didn't trust him in the car alone, in case he managed to wiggle out of the ropes.
So I just laid there, for hours, watching him jerk around in the seat. He didn't talk again, just growled and kicked.
When the sun began to go up I decided to give in and slip out of the car. I grabbed an energy drink and a blanket.
Leaning against the side of the car that faced the field I wrapped myself in the blanket and watched the sun rise as I drank my drink. It was kind of sublime in a way.
Everything was quiet, aside from the muffled grunts coming out of the car. But as the sun rose through the distant tree line, I felt strangely calm.
On the other side of the field I could see a deer. Its movements were slow and lithe. I couldn't help but stare.
As soon as it spotted me it retreated back into the woods. Such a shame.
It made me think about Peter. So strong and mysterious, but so easily startled. Both could kill me, but I trusted that neither would.
After a few more minutes the rocking slowed and I heard a muffled call from inside the car.
Opening it up I was met with sleepy, human eyes. I untied him and cut off the tape.
"How do you feel?" I asked as he got out and walked around to my side of the car. He sat down next to my spit on the ground and pulled part of the blanket over himself.
"Better rested than you." He grabbed my drink and took a sip of it.
"And whose fault is that?" I cocked an eyebrow at him and snatched my drink back.
"Sorry about that." He said, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.
"Don't mention it."
He waited for a minute before asking, "So what's the plan boss?"
"Hell if I know."
"I mean, we can't go back home, or we're both dead."
"Or kidnapped," I added.
"What?"
"Kidnapped, their three boys were taken." I sighed. I'd almost forgotten about that part.
He turned to me suddenly, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Shit," he banged his hand on the car, "We have to go back for them."
"How would we do that?" I asked. Of course I knew we were their only chance of being found. But how you lift three young boys from a group of psycho killers in the woods is beyond me.
"I don't know," he began chewing on the corner of his lip anxiously, "somehow."

We got to our feet and scrambled back into the car, blanket and empty can in tow.
"How would we even be able to find them?" I asked once we were buckled in.
"Finding them isn't what I'm worried about, I grew up in the woods. Plus there were too many of them to have driven, which means they walked, so the camps only a few miles away from the house." He said, eyes sharpening, readying for battle, "What I'm worried about is what we do when we get there."
"You have to know a thing or two about how that place runs."
"I do, that's why I'm nervous," he said, and then eyed me, "plus we need to get better prepared. Running from murderers in those flippy floppy things generally isn't a good idea."
"Okay, we'll stop by my house first."
"What if they're there?"
"Shit," I said, having not thought of that, "okay never mind, we'll stop by one of those sporting stores."
After checking on my phone I found one a town over from us in a mall.
"Well, I know how much you love malls." I teased as we pulled into the parking lot.
"Yep, it's a party every time I go in one after all." He smirked. There was a sudden lightness to him, he seemed calmer. I attributed it to getting some sleep.
Peter kept his eyes down, after a few outings he figured out that staring in awe wasn't a normal reaction to a Midwestern mall, but he was still learning exactly how to behave like a normal person, so he just looked at the floor.
The sporting goods store was on the far side of the building. We were greeted by headless mannequins in spandex.
I eyed him jokingly, "The mannequins are ready to run from you."
He smiled and sighed, "You attack a mannequin one time and they never let you forget it."
We went to the back of the store where shoes lined the walls, but we didn't bother with the sleek overpriced pairs, the sale rack was our destination. Combing through, I found a cheap pair in dark purple.
We continued looking around the store for things that could come in handy. While we were sifting through a sale rack Peter held up a sports bra.
"This looks uncomfortable."
I shook my head, "Not really, you should see the ones with wire."
His eyes got wide and he investigated the bra more, stretching the fabric. I just laughed and left him to it.
I already had enough athletic clothes to my name, but I found him a fitted jacket made out of thin, breathable material that might come in handy in the middle of the woods.
Stopping by the hunting section, Peter insisted that we get some sort of weaponry. The things we settled on were a cheap knife and a flashlight that was also a Taser. I hated having to buy a new knife, I had a pretty hefty collection at my house, but he was absolutely adamant that we shouldn't go back there, at least for a while.
We got dressed in the car, me in leggings, a tank top, and light jacket and him in jeans, a light shirt, and the jacket is picked up for him. All earthy colors and materials that wouldn't make any noise when we walked.
It was a few hours back to the town. I'd driven almost to the state line yesterday. But the car ride was surprisingly light-hearted.
Peter hummed along to the music and we ate candy and chips. I guzzled coffee and anything else that promised to keep me awake.
At one point he reached up and began handling my big purple dice.
"These are funny."
I smiled, "My dad got them for me. He insists they're good luck. I think they're a bit obnoxious, but I'll take all the luck I can get."
"Maybe I need a pair or two. Luck isn't exactly my Forte." He looked like he wanted to say something else but changed his mind.
I let it go, the sleeplessness was easier to hide in the quiet. I needed to keep it under wraps, his sudden burst of happiness was something I wanted to preserve, no matter how strange.
We pulled off to the side of the road when the sun started to go down. It was just outside of town, but still about forty minutes from home, so it felt safe enough.
I taped and tied him up until he felt fully constrained.
"You can go to sleep," he said as I got back in on my side of the car, "you definitely need it more."
I didn't argue, I just smiled and curled up into a comfortable position in the car seat.
A few hours later I was woken up by a familiar growl. It was dark outside the car windows, so he must have drifted off after a while.
I laid there for a minute, hoping I could just force myself back to sleep. But his wild jerking shook the car and jolted me all the way back out of my stupor.
Lying there I felt myself begin to question what I was doing. I felt like I always came back to the thought that maybe I was a fool. The feeling was hard to fight because I knew the facts.
Even though most of me felt completely trusting and comfortable with Peter, there was another instinctual part that wasn't so sure.
Yes, he was sweet and goofy. But this thing that thrashed around next to me was in there somewhere, and I had no idea how much of him it controlled.
But that wasn't the important part, right now we just needed to get the boys back. And tomorrow, we would be going into the woods.

Kudos op, can't wait for the next update

michael123pelemo:
Kudos op, can't wait for the next update

I strapped the backpack full of snacks and water bottles to myself, even going so far as to use the buckle in the front.
I had the knife tucked into my waistband and Peter took the Taser. I still didn't entirely trust him around knives.
Since they knew what the car looked like we parked relatively far away and hid it the best we could with tree branches.
Before I locked it up I reached in and grabbed my fuzzy purple dice off the rear view mirror.
"Peter," I called him over, "I want you to have these."
"What?" He asked as he appeared at my side.
I held the dice up and he let out a bubble of laughter, "the dice?"
"Yes," I had to roll my eyes at myself, "You said luck isn't your Forte, and we'll need all the luck we can get. I don't want you messing up our mojo."
He laughed.
No matter how uncomfortable it made him, I made him hold his hand out as I tied them around his wrist.
He admired my handiwork, shook his head, and began walking towards the road. I buried the keys in a shallow grave nearby and followed him.
"Since this is the road to the nearest town, their path probably branches off somewhere around here." he said as we walked on the shoulder of the road.
I felt amazingly uneasy. Every sound made my stomach lurch. But Peter seemed oddly calm, almost content with what we were doing. His sadness wasn't missed by any means, but what it was replaced with confused me.
We walked in silence, constantly listening for any unsavory noises. Peter's eyes were trained on the woods, looking for something that I couldn't.
His arm shot out in front of me, cutting me off, "Wait," he whispered, "I think I see it."
I followed his eyes but only saw the same line of trees we'd been walking alongside all day.
"I can't see anything."
He reached out like he was going to move me, but stopped himself and just ushered me over closer to where he stood.
"Look right there, kind of sideways."
I stared directly to where he pointed. The ground slopped downward right off the road, causing the trees to hang awkwardly. But as I moved closer I noticed a crooked path hidden among the branches.
It was wide, for something that was so hard to see, with lightly outlined tire tracks.
"They'll see us coming if we use this," I said.
He laughed, "That's why we're not walking directly on it."
He stepped into the woods and I followed, still notably more edgy than him.
We stepped lightly, fighting to make sure we made as little noise as possible in the underbrush. The walk was long and quiet, I was religiously sipping energy drinks to keep myself from passing out. The hot air made it feel like it was hard to breathe but I was afraid to take off the jacket and tie it around my waist. I needed to be ready to run at any moment.
We stopped a handful of times to sit on logs and eat jerky.
But the day was mostly dedicated to walking, stopping, looking around, and then walking again.
It was pretty boring until we found them.

He spotted them first and pulled me down so that we were both squatting on the ground.
He didn't say anything, he just pointed through the trees. After a second, I saw movement.
Luckily it wasn't directed at us, it was more akin to someone going about everyday chores.
Peter peered over the foliage we were hiding behind and waved his hand for me to follow.
He made his way over to the tree and pointed up. The limbs were thickly bristled and close together, easy to hide inside.
He slipped in as close to the trunk as he could and began scaling the tree. I went to follow but my backpack knocked against a branch, causing it to rustle loudly.
We both froze. Peter, who was a few feet up at this point, looked towards camp and then flashed me a thumbs up.
I continued up behind him, doing my best not to shake the tree.
When we got to the point where the tree started to get a bit flimsy so we stopped.
Looking through the branches I realized exactly how close we were to the camp. It was maybe forty feet from where we sat.
The camp was comprised of mostly tents, an outhouse, and a few structures that were just generic sheds. In the center was what looked like a fire pit full of some kind of mystery rubble.
"That's where they keep the boys," he whispered to me, pointing to the shed furthest to the right, "It's only locked with a nail, so you'll be able to get it."
"I'll be getting in?"
"Yes, someone has to distract them."
"Yeah, I guess," I said, watching as one of the women threw a match or two into the fire pit. I realized, watched them all mill about, there were very particular characteristics amongst the groups. All the Elders were indeed female, and the youngest was maybe in her mid-thirties at best. The part that surprised me was that the only boys I could see were the Lottes. Peter had made it sound like there were at least a few more.
"I thought you said there were other boys here?" I whispered.
He only nodded his head, teeth grinding together as he did.
We continued to watch as the boys cut up food or hauled things from one place to another, loomed over constantly by an elder.
And in the center of it all was the familiar man, who hadn't even bothered washing the blood out of his hair. He lounged in a lawn chair with a book in his lap.
I looked to Peter, expecting to see the combo of worry and sadness I'd expect in a situation like this, but instead his face was cold, calculating. His eyes flitting from one place to another, planning something in his head.
The sun was nearly concealed behind the horizon line when he broke the silence, "Bo you've got to promise me something. Actually, you've got to promise me a few things."
I shifted a bit in the awkward way we'd positioned ourselves amongst the branches, mostly to avoid touching, "What's that?"
"When you get the boys you need to run as fast as you can until you get home. And you can't tell the cops or anybody about this place."
My stomach twisted. He'd confirmed the thing I'd been telling myself couldn't be true, "You're not coming with us."
"No."
"Why not? And why can't I call the police?" My voice broke above the designated whisper and he flinched, eyes immediately darting back to the camp.

"Because that man down there has a lot of money and a good memory. He won't forget your face if you've done something against him. I've watched him kill people, I've seen him burn them right there," he points to the fire pit, "He always finds the people he's looking for. And the only reason he would be looking for you is if he thought you were with me."
"But if I call the police they can just arrest him."
He shook his head, "I know you think I'm dumb. And I admittedly don't know very much about your culture and world. But if I know anything, it's that man. He has a thousand different ways to get out of anything. You don't even know who he is."
"Who is he then?"
"It doesn't matter, because you're going to move away, go to college, and have a good life. Okay?" There was just a twinge of sadness that made it to the surface of his face. He'd been so good at hiding it recently, and only because he knew I would be able to tell what he was planning. But now I could see every thought bubbling up, "It's probably for the best, anyway. You were always going to leave."
I wanted to tell him to stop, but I knew it was true. It's not like I could keep him in my dorm room. There was nowhere to put him besides that shack.
But my brain searched for a magical solution like I hadn't been thinking of one for two months and come up empty.
All I could think of to say was, "This won't even work, and they'll know it was me who took the kids. Who else would it be?"
"When they get me back they won't need the other boys anymore." He said it blankly, like I was supposed to know what it meant. I looked at him, obviously confused, "I haven't been completely honest with you Bo."
I didn't even know what he meant, but it still stung. He shifted again, feet now on the same branch as mine as he leaned against the branch across from me. It was the closest he'd been to me in a long time.
"About what?" I demanded in a whisper.
He was silent for a minute, looking a few times like he was going to speak, but stopping himself before finally saying, "I don't want you to know."
And with that, he pulled me into a very tight hug. I nearly lost my balance, my poor footing causing the branch to shake a bit, but he didn't pay it any mind.
It was a shock to be so close. We'd spent every day together, except with a sizable space between us. But even with the alien nature of the gesture, I could still attest that his comforting effect got stronger the closer I was.
We stayed like that for a minute, putting off the finality of it. In that moment part of me wanted to be selfish, to leave with him and run away. But I had to save those boys from becoming whatever he was.
Gently, he pushed me back up to where I'd been perched in the tree.
"I'm going to circle around and come in from the other side. Don't go for the boys until everyone is completely distracted. But once they are, go quickly." He said, beginning to climb down the tree. My purple dice bounced against his arm. Good luck.
He stopped near my feet and I had to squat down to be able to hear him, "I'm going to miss you."
I knew that if I tried to respond I would cry so I just nodded and silently begged for him to change his mind.
But all he did was take one of the dice into his hand and kiss it softly, giving me a reassuring smile before continuing down the tree.
He disappeared into the blackness, and I only waited a minute before following his lead. But I hovered near the tree just enough to be camouflaged by the branches, but close enough that I could see everything.
It was all normal for a while. Just people eating near the fire. The boys had been locked up the second it got dark, so it was only the master and his elders now.
After a few anxious minutes, I heard a commotion from the opposite side of the camp.
"Hey, guys! I'm back!" It was Peter, yelling in a pseudo jolly voice and banging his hands on everything he passed. They all got to their feet immediately.
He got to the very center of the clearing before stopping, "Miss me?"
The master went to stand in front of him, arms crossed like a disappointed father, "I figured you'd come back, boy."
"Oh, I'm not just back," Peter said, strangely assertive, "I've also got a surprise."
He let it sink in a minute amongst the elders before he pinched his eyes shut, shook his head around a bit, and then revealed a pair of jet black nothingness. Familiar nothingness.
And before he did anything else, the eyes fell directly onto me and winked.

I knew this was my cue to move, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Too many questions had just popped up into my brain for me to be able to function.
His eyes moved back to the Master and he let out a low his.
"It's gotten stronger," The man remarked, "And you let it out just for me, I might blush."
This monstrous Peter lurched forward until they were so close a pencil couldn't drop between them. They stared each other down for a second before Peter buried his teeth into the master's shoulder.
The man let out a howl equally as inhuman as Peter's and lunged back. As they fought I saw a flash of the master's eyes, jet black. Why should I be surprised?
I snapped out of my trace and ran for the shed, pulling the nail and slipping in the door.
"Tanner, Maddox, Payton can you guys hear me?" I whispered into the darkness.
"Tarpi?" I heard a small voice say. It used to drive me crazy that they insisted on using my last name, since it sounded funny, but at this moment I was only relieved.
"Yeah, it's me. I need you guys to come with me right now." I couldn't see anybody but I heard small footsteps approach me.
I reached out, feeling three soft mops of hair, relief flooding over me. Turning around I cracked the door open.
Everybody was still trying to wrestle Peter to the ground, unconcerned by what easy going on I've here.
I waved the boys out, whispering for them to run behind the shed so they wouldn't be seen. I followed them out, catching a glimpse of scratches on the walls before locking the door behind me. Hopefully they wouldn't notice they were gone for at least a few hours.
I slipped behind the shed before I could be seen.
"We have to go now," I whispered to the boys as I hoisted the smallest one onto my hip.
They all followed me into the tree line. I could hear the little one sniffling in my ear. With the few days they'd had I couldn't imagine how they'd held themselves together so well. I felt like I was closer to crying than they were.
We circled around until I found the road back. Based on the loud yowling Peter was still putting up one hell of a fight. So I figured we'd be safest on the road than taking our chances with my late night navigation skills.
It was nearly pitch black out but I could still see the outline of the tire tracks.
I stopped the boys and said, "We have to run down this road as fast as we can, but we need to be quiet."
They all nodded, shaggy blond hair bouncing in the faint light. We took off running, our feet making faint pitter patter noises in the smoothed grass.
It was harder than I thought to run with a kid hanging around my neck, but I powered through until the boys began to lose their stamina.
They drew in closer to me, the darkness making all of us very jumpy. I was just relieved that they were all here and alive. That's what mattered.
And I trusted, for whatever reason, that Peter had some idea of what he was doing. He said they wouldn't need them if he was there.
But I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I knew if I thought about I'm him I would cry.
But one of the boys beat me to it. Our little group came to a stop around him.
The oldest, Tanner, whimpered, "They burned the other boys."
I put Payton on the ground and brought the boy into a hug. I wished there was some way for me to unsee all of that for him. But all I could do was get them back to safety.
I picked the boy up. He was remarkably heavier than his little brother, but I gritted my teeth and started walking. We didn't have time to break down just yet.
As we walked to the car I did my best to feel thankful.
Thankful that the boys were alive.
Thankful I was alive.
Thankful my dad was safe.
But what I couldn't shake was the knowledge that I would never see Peter again. And on top of it, how little I knew about the boy I was going to miss so much.

6 months later


My strappy, heeled shoes slipped on the icy sidewalk and I reached out for Tony to steady me. The shoes were a pain in the ass, and nearly hazardous in the snow, but they were gorgeous so I powered through.
"You and those fucking shoes." Tony teased me as I latched onto his arm in an effort to regain my balance.
"You like them, shut up."
He eyed me up and down, "They are mighty sexy. But damn it babe, you're going to break your ass." He said before subsequently smacking the body part in question.
I shooed his hand away and tried my hardest to dig my heel into his toes, but nearly slipped again.
"You were the one who insisted on getting up early to go check out this cool new coffee place off campus." I used air quotes around the word cool, to emphasize how little I cared about the never ending hipster coffee joints that appeared and disappeared like whack-a-moles.
"It will be cool, as long as you make it there alive."
I rolled my eyes, "You're not funny."
But he probably had a point, my recent dedication to clothing was a bit extreme. But I clung to each shred of fabric like a security blanket. That's what it had turned into since the end of the summer.
After what had happened, I ended up moving in with my mom. When I told dad that the house freaked me out because of the murders, he revealed that he'd planned on moving closer to the city after I left (I later found out it was due to a special lady friend who just so happened to live out there). So we packed up and found a renter who would be willing to take care of the animals.
Peter had kept his word, no one bothered us or the new tenants.
The police investigation of the Lottes' murders died down kind of fast due to minimal evidence and suspects. I'd told the cops that the boys had been hiding out in our barn and that they were severely traumatized and saying crazy things, just in case the boys tried to tell them about the place in the woods, despite how many times I told them they couldn't tell anybody.
I hated having to do it. I couldn't stand that they'd had to go through something like that and now they're parents murderers could go free, but I couldn't get the police involved.
The guilt still gnawed at me for that, but I already knew I was far from a good person. I wanted to see that bastard pay as much as the next guy, but I trusted that Peter knew what he was doing, even if he was a damn liar. I just wish he'd given me something else to go on besides all the vague mumbo jumbo.
But it was what it was now, just another mystery being swept under the rug. I didn't even know if any of them were even alive now. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past the master or Peter to kill one another, so that's what I assumed happened.
I sat around, locked in my new room, crying over it for a long time. Every night I dreamed about burning alive. The only positive thing about the dreams was that I usually got to see Peter. Even if he did turn into a monster a second later.
It stumped my mother, who was curious why I was so unendingly devastated by the death of my old neighbors.
I'd shrugged off any attempts at communication with the rest of the world until the very end of the summer when I was packing up all the stuff I was going to take with me to college.
And it just struck me that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't change something. I couldn't bear to look at myself anymore; I felt stupid, desperate, selfish, and truly ugly. What had happened just pushed me way past my usual feelings of empty, lonely distaste for myself into something much darker.

I stopped dead in my tracks, causing Tony to nearly run into me.
"What the hell babe?" He said, trying to figure out what had struck me so much.
My eyes darted around, looking for him, but obviously not finding him. How could I? He was hours away from here. And I wasn't going to see him again. But those dice caught me off guard.
"Sorry." Not only my boyfriend but all the homeless people in the alley were watching me, causing heat to rise in my cheeks.
Quickly I took out my wallet and gave a dollar to each of the people, and dropped a dollar on the spot where the dice were.
When I was done I waved goodbye and kept walking, just wanting to forget the whole awkward exchange.
"You know you shouldn't give those people money," Tony said, catching up to me.
"Well were about to go give a company five dollars for brown caffeine water, so I regret nothing." I rolled my eyes, and I could tell he did the same thing back to me.
But then he hooked an arm around my neck and curled my head around to his chest.
I giggled, "Stop it!"
He kissed the top of my head and let me go as we rounded the corner to the coffee shop.
I ordered my coffee black and poured a large heap of sugar and Splenda into the black liquid.
I saw Tony scrunch up his nose so I laughed and said, "You okay over there?"
"Just admiring your dedication."
"Refined sugars are the devil." I mocked his slight jersey accent as I popped my lid back on.
"Ha ha so funny." He mused, holding the door for me.
Cold air blasted me in the face and I clutched my coffee cup closer. That was probably one of the most expensive hand warmers I've ever bought.
We began walking back to campus to get back before my 9 am lecture. I sipped the coffee, partially burning my upper lip in the process. It tasted like any other coffee I could steal from the lounge in the student center, so I was unimpressed.
"See, it's not so bad."
"You just like it because they made it with that siphon thing."
He made some smart-ass comment, as per usual, but I missed it as we passed the alley from earlier.
The dice were still there, taunting me with my own memories. But I looked away. I didn't want to remember that time, but for some reason, I still bit my lip a little as we walked by.
When we got back to campus I kissed Tony goodbye and headed off to my class.
I passed by the biology and natural sciences building, which is where most of my classes should be. But they'd received a huge donation to rebuild the greenhouse. So that means I have to run to the other side of campus to get to my class on time.
On one hand, I'm excited because I love a good greenhouse. But on the other hand, it means my internship got put on hold, which is annoying.
I slip into class just in the nick of time, but as I sat trying to listen to my professor, all I could think about were those dice.
In fact, that's all I thought about for the rest of the day. I might as well not have gone to any of my classes.
That night I tossed and turned, royally pissing off my roommate Miriam who slept below me.
To avoid a fight I slipped into the bathroom we shared with another set of girls. At least on there I could try another work out my anxiety
I paced back and forth, straightened my hair, then curled it, then brushed my teeth a few times.
Nothing I did made the weird feelings go away. The glimmer of a possibility that it was him was enough to send me into a tailspin.
Some part of me wanted nothing else in the world. But the other part, the part that's protective of my new life, just wanted it all behind me.
What if it was him? It didn't mean anything could be happy or easy. If it were him that would mean something was wrong.
But I still had to try my best not to wish for it.
After another half hour of staring myself down in the mirror, I got dressed and slipped out the door.

I never wear pajamas outside, but there's no time.
It's still dark as I walk through campus, even the night owls are asleep at this hour.
The darkness creeps me out, but I have to check. I have to see if he's there, even if I don't want to.
I don't even know what I would do if it was him. Cry, probably. Maybe run away. It's not like there's a proper way to handle something like that.
It was a decently long walk to the alley, and by the time I rounded the corner to it I could see the sun peeking between the other buildings.
The same people huddled on the ground in the alley asleep. I felt an odd sense of relief. This was hard to explain.
The spot with the purple dice was still there, but had been moved around, so it was definitely in use. But there was no one there.
I was flushed with a strange flood of relief. I'm not sure if I was more afraid of finding him, or shattering the illusion that it might find him. Both scared me equally.
I wanted to see him again more than anything. But I knew that the new life I'd constructed was fragile, and it was the only thing keeping me going.
I crouched down next to the bed of clothes, using the tips of my fingers to shift a jacket sleeve that covered the dice.
Picking them up I looked over them, trying to see if there was anything that could prove my theory. Sadly these dice were the same as mine as every pair of fuzzy dice in the world, including my own. I brought them to my nose, inhaling and catching just the faintest hint of something familiar before I was interrupted.
"What are you doing?" I heard the rasping voice and jumped up, dropping the dice.
A woman, who had been asleep on a manhole a second ago, was awake and sitting up.
She looked older, but also like most of the years were added by stress rather than time. Deep circles drooped under her eyes and her jaw set awkwardly, as if missing teeth.
"I was just, um," I stammered, trying to think of a way to explain this, but failing, "Who does this belong to?"
I point to the spot I'd been leaning over.
She just shrugged, picking at her long yellow fingernails.
"Is it like a," my voice shook, "young man?"
Again, all I got was a shrug.
"Where are they?" I try, but my efforts are still met with a passively silent response.
I sighed, too tired to beg for information from this defensive woman.
I took out my wallet and grabbed a few singles, dropping one each on the sleeping people, saving the woman and the empty spot for last.
As I lay the final bill next to the dice I say, "Well make sure he gets this, okay?"
She eyes me with obvious distrust, but says, "Okay, I'll give it to him."

I turned on my heel and hightailed it down the street. I went to the coffee shop, hating to shell out another $4.50 for a cup of black coffee, but looking for an excuse to go this far off campus.
Not to mention, this was the most run down and tired I'd felt in months, which is impressive for a college student.
As I walked back to campus I texted Tony, who always woke up obnoxiously early to go to the gym.
"What's up buttercup?" He responded after a minute.
"I'm skipping my morning class, want to get breakfast."
"Why are you skipping?"
I thought for a second, "Didn't sleep well, I think I'm getting sick."
I sure as hell felt sick, but somehow I still felt better than I did. My stomach still ached but the tension in my head was relieved.
"Hope you feel better babe," I smiled at the phone and shoved it into the pocket of my pajama pants.
I got back to my dorm room which was mercifully empty, stuck the coffee in the mini fridge and collapsed into my bed.
Luckily the class I was supposed to go to wasn't very intense so I was able to drift off to sleep peacefully knowing that I wouldn't be burdening my future self too much.
I was awoken a few hours later by Miriam's coat flopping onto my face.
"Well, at least one of use is getting some sleep."
I pushed the damp coat off me and turned over, "Yeah, sorry about that."
I heard her desk chair creak and a sigh, "It's fine. Anything you want to talk about?"
I turned over, only able to see the top of her blonde head, and said, "No, I just don't feel good."
She twisted her head around to me, looking sympathetic, "Well if there's anything you need just ask, "She smiled," I mean this in the most selfish way possible I like sleeping at night."
I laughed and waved her off, turning back over to face the wall. There was a surprising sense of ease in me since I'd gone investigating that morning.
It was like living in this comfortable limbo, where I didn't have to see him but he still felt so close. It was close to the feeling I had every morning last summer when I could wake up and know I could walk to his house and spend the whole day with him.
I just laid there for most of the day, drinking in that feeling, before getting up and ready just in time for my last class.
On my way back to my room I got a text from Donna asking where she was picking me up for practice.
I'd almost forgotten.
I texted her that I was in front of the informatics building and her cannery yellow car swerved around the corner a few minutes later.
I jumped in and we sped off. My hair was immediately upturned by the wind, which I should have expected. Donna's short hair was always tossed around, in a stylistic way of course.
I wish I could pull it off the same way she did, but my face was a bit more boyish than I preferred without the waves of light brown to frame it.
Our fellow bandmates lived in a tiny house off campus where we practiced.
I was a late joiner to the band, only really there because my voice sounded 'alright' when layered under Lorne's.
Honestly, the only reason I'm in is because Lorne dubbed me his honorary little sister. And according to him, being an Indy band, they needed someone to offset how scary and Amazonian Donna is.
We got out and went in through the garage.
Lorne was sitting on the couch and I took my opportunity. Turning to Donna I put a finger to my lips and she rolled her eyes continuing to the living room.
Getting to my knees I crawled across the carpet towards the couch.
"It's about time you got here." He said to Donna. I could tell he was going to ask about where I was when I leapt over the back of the couch.
He yelped as we both toppled to the floor. I wound my legs around his neck and yelled, "The Boa Constrictor strikes again."
He rolled over and tried to pry me off, but my legs were locked on too tight.
"Say uncle!" I laughed
"Uncle, uncle, uncle." He wheezed, and I released him.
"What's the score, Donna Marie?" Ha asked, still laying on the floor.
She sucked air between her teeth and said, "I don't think you want to know."
"Loser." I sang from my spot on the floor.
"Just wait," he said, sitting up, "I'm going to get you one day."
He still looked the same as the day we met. Tall, a little chubby, with long golden hair pulled into a bun. He's one of those people who just makes you feel comfortable around them no matter what.
Band practice was short because Dominic, the banjo player/drummer, was sick.
Donna dropped me off in front of my dorm and once I got to the room I took off my makeup and collapsed into bed, only to wake up a few hours later.
I quickly learned that the only way to subdue the little bubble of nerves in my stomach was to get ready and walk all the way to the alley, just to make sure the side were still there.
I did it every morning for weeks. Every time the spot was empty and the woman glared at me as I left them money. Eventually, I started buying sticks of jerky and leaving them too. But I never saw him
Until one night when my band played at the new coffee place, which is actually called The Java Lab. As I sang lightly from the small stage I caught a glimpse of someone familiar just outside the glass door.

Everyone was staring at me.
My throat was dry, no lyrics could come out, and it left an obvious gap in the song.
Lorne looked sideways at me, but I had no idea how to communicate what I was happening. I didn't even know if it was worth the reaction I was giving it.
But that face, that quick glimpse of a face that almost looked familiar. It made me shake so much my teeth began to chatter.
I'd never been on this side of town aside from my morning visits when I knew I wouldn't see him even if he was real.
I'd gone this whole time not wanting to know. But now I had to.
I walked off the stage, the music cutting off awkwardly as I wove through the tables towards the door.
Pushing past two people coming back from a smoke break I was hit with the cold air. My dress was a turtleneck but sleeveless, so they kind of negated each other.
I swung my head around rapidly, trying to see where he could have gone in the dim light.
The street was filled with people, but I didn't let it stop me. I needed to know. I couldn't keep fooling myself.
I tore through the people, doing my best to comb through them as fast as possible.
I didn't even try one man until I felt the way he flinched when I rubbed against him.
When it hit me I turned to the man. It was hard to make out his features in the orange street light.
He was wearing a dingy coat that smelled like dirty cat litter. A thick scraggly beard failed to cover a deeply engrained burn scar that crawled up his neck.
His cheeks were sunken in and a knit cap shielded a lot of his face from the cool air, but I could still see those eyes.
How could I forget them, I'd seen them dead and alive.
"Peter?" I breathed.
His eyes, tired as they were, lit up just a bit as I said his name.
He looked me over, smiled softly, and said, "Hey Bo."
I suddenly felt self-conscious of my heeled boots and heavy jewelry that clinked together with every ragged breath.
He was living on the streets, God knows how he'd gotten all the way here, and here I was with highlighted hair and a fresh manicure.
But all he said was, "You must be freezing," As he shed his coat and held it out to me.
I wanted him to put it back on and stop acting silly, but I was so stunned by the whole thing I took it and slipped it on anyway.
The smell that radiated off of it, although fowl, smelled like him. The very specific smell that reminded me of easy summer days a long way from here.
We just sort of stared at each other for a minute. I was still shaking but I don't think the cold was the main contributor anymore.
And then I had the overwhelming urge to hug him. I threw my arms around him, the heels actually allowing me to reach his neck.
After a second of hesitation, I felt his arms circle around my waist and tighten.
I nestled my face into his shoulder. The last time I was here, I thought I'd never see him again.
But he was here, even if he was so different. I could feel the ridges of his spine under my arm and his hair, which had only been about chin length the last time I saw him, was tied into a ratty ponytail.
All the questions boiled in the back of my mind, but I subdued them. For now, all I wanted was this, just the feeling of him being here and okay.
"Bowen?" I heard Tony call as he walked towards us.

My head shot up as I saw everyone coming towards us, looking like an odd mix of concerned and pissed.
I wiped my face, just then realizing that I was crying. Peter let go and turned around to see who was calling me.
"Who's this?" Tony asked, evaluating the grungy homeless man I'd just been hanging onto.
Searching for a proper way to describe him, I just said, "He's an old friend of mine."
Tony didn't really say anything, his eyes just danced between me and Peter.
Peter stood there, looking confused and kind of scared. He was taller than Tony, but in the way that a young twiggy tree is taller than a bulldog.
Surprisingly the person to break the silence was Lorne, who stepped past Tony and put a heavy hand on Peter's shoulder.
"How about you come take a shower at our place?"
Peter looked at me and I nodded.
"We just need to load everything back up in the cars and then we'll go." He said, then looked at me, "Jeez Boa, give him his jacket back."
Feeling even more uncomfortable I shrugged it off and handed it back to Peter.
We all walked back towards the coffee place. Tony wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me firmly to his side. I squirmed, but it didn't faze him.
I'd never seen him act this way. He'd always been goofy Tony who never took anything seriously. But now he was pulling a possessive boyfriend move, which royally pissed me off.
Lorne unlocked his car and let Peter sit inside while we got everything ready to leave.
We all went inside as began packing everything up. Tony only released me once there was a closed door between me and Peter.
Lorne leaned in and asked, "So he's not going to kill me if I let him in my house, right?"
I laughed a little, "He's harmless."
And as I said it I believed it, until I remembered the last time I saw him. What he'd done, the thing I thought I'd never get an answer to, burned in the back of my mind.
When we were done and ready to go I said, "I'm going to ride with Lorne."
"Why?" Tony asked, flexing his jaw.
"I want to," I eyed him, but leaned over to kiss him, hoping that would tamp out some of his bitterness, "I'll see you there."
He sighed, "I have to train really early tomorrow, so I think I'm just going to hit the sack."
I felt a pang of guilt for how relieved I was. Peter being back was enough for my brain to handle on its own without Tony there getting jealous.
"Okay," I hugged him, and he reluctantly hugged back, "I'll see you tomorrow okay?"
"Yeah." He kissed me on the cheek and then got in his car and sped off.
I climbed into Lorne's passenger side seat and peered into the back.
Peter was looking in his lap, pulling at a loose thread. I wanted to leap back there and hug him again, just to make sure he was real. And then I wanted to attack him with questions. But that would come.
We all drove quietly to Lorne's house.
He let Peter use the bathroom off of his room while he watched TV downstairs. I sat on his bed, leaning my head back against the headboard, listening to the shower run while I tried to distract myself with my phone.
But I was still tempted to barge in there and demand answers. I knew I had to wait though, it must have been months since he'd taken a shower.
Eventually the water turned off and I waited anxiously as he rustled around before emerging in a cloud of steam wearing pair of Lorne's sweatpants. I tried to keep my eyes down so that he wouldn't think I was gawking at him.
He sat down on the end of the bed and wiped his face with the towel. Droplets of water dripped down the rolling hills of his ribs, which poked prominently out of his back.
I got to my knees and crawled slowly to the end of the bed.
"Feeling better?"
He chuckled, "You have no idea."
He already looked a lot more like the Peter I remembered. But without a shirt I could see a large stretch of scarring that marred most of his chest.
"What happened to you?" I gasped.
He looked down at his chest as if he'd forgotten it was there, "I got burned."
"I thought you couldn't scar."
"Some fire is hotter than others."

I was tempted to ask why master had burned him, but deductive reasoning essentially answered that question for me.
Instead, I settled on demanding to know why he could suddenly control the beast. But before I could ask he spoke.
"You knew it was me didn't you?" He turned his head to me, "It was you who kept leaving the money."
I nodded.
"Why didn't you ever really try and see me? Why would you be so sneaky?"
I shrugged, "I wasn't sure, actually I was pretty convinced I was going crazy."
"You didn't think I'd just forget about you, did you?"
I tucked my legs up under myself, "No, it's just that, how on earth did you get here?"
"Not easily I'll tell you that."
"Yeah, I could tell that by looking at you," I joked, "not to mention smelling you."
He laughed but I could see the weariness in his face.
"You look nice, I barely recognized you."
I could feel my cheeks heat up, but I only said, "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not."
He just shook his head and ran a hand over the beard, "I bet you wish you could say the same about me."
"On the contrary, I'm actually quite impressed with your ability to grow facial hair."
"Who knew I had it in me right?"
We grew quiet, listening to the sound of the TV downstairs. There were so many questions and yet I didn't know what to say.
"Well, I should really leave." He said, getting to his feet, "where are my clothes?"
"Wait? Why?"
"It's not like I can stay here." He laughed.
I stood up, "But, I mean, I just got you back. You can't go this soon."
He shook his head a bit, wet pieces of hair stuck to his neck, "Bowen, I'm just here to check on you. Just to make sure he doesn't hurt you. We can't just hang out anymore."
"Why?" I demanded.
He gave up on looking for his clothes and just stood there nervously.
"Come on, you can't tell me you've completely forgotten."
"It was never a problem before." I crossed my arms.
He looked angry, "It's getting worse. You see this?" He stepped towards me and pointed to the large burn, "It's starting to literally burn its way through me, from the inside out."
Without thinking, I reached out and ran the tips of my fingers over it. The skin felt tougher than I'd expected, like the skin of a rhino.
He flinched a little when I touched him, but I didn't let him get away with it this time. I stepped forward and pressed my full hand against it. Regardless of the rough flesh, I could still feel his heart pulse against my palm.
"I'm sure we can fix it."
His laugh was full of venom, "Yeah, it's obviously that easy."
"I didn't say it would be easy." I tried matching his anger, but it didn't roll off my tongue the way I'd wanted it to.
He sighed and sat back down on the bed, "The point is that you don't need to deal with this. You have a new life," he paused, "and a boyfriend. This isn't your problem, it shouldn't have been in the first place."
"Then why did you come back?"
"He knows you're here. I don't know what he'll do, but I need to be here to keep an eye on him."
"Shit, how did he find out?"
He looked up at me, "That part is my fault too."
"How?"
"I didn't want to tell him." His eyes flicked down nervously.
I looked down at his feet. Gasping, I saw a collection of nubs where his toes used to be.
"I'm sorry." He said, hanging his head.
I put my hands on his cheeks and lifted his face to look at me, "it's okay."
He turned his face and pressed it into my palm before saying, "No it's not, but there's no turning back now."
"Well it's been months, I think if he was really planning something it would have happened already."
"All this time and you still underestimate him."
"I'm just tired of you looking so damn hopeless."
He smiled, "Okay," and then wrapped his arms around my waist and stood up, lifting me into the air. I giggled and wrapped my legs around him so I wouldn't fall.
He was smiling, "Is this better?"
"Yeah, I can deal with this." I'd missed goofy Peter even more than I'd realized. Now that he was here, smiling with his arms around me, I didn't feel sad and worried like I knew I should. For right now, everything was okay.
"I've wanted to do that for a little while," he swung he around again, "Well, it's one of the things I've wanted to do for a while."
I felt my heart speed up. If he meant what I thought he did, I wasn't sure if it made me happy or nervous. Tony wasn't at the forefront of my mind, but he was still there.
Luckily for me I didn't have to make the decision. Lorne opened the door and gave us a funny look.
"His clothes are dry if he wants them back."
Peter looked a little ashamed as he set me down, "Yeah I'd like them back. Thanks."
Lorne set them down on the bed, giving me a stern look before leaving.
Sorry about that, I know you have have a boyfriend now."
"It's fine." I shrugged it off, even though there was a little pang of guilt in the pit of my stomach. It's not that we'd even done anything, it was that I'd seriously wanted to, "I'll go and let you get dressed."
"Wait." He said, dragging me close to him and kissing me on the forehead before letting me go.

I left the room to let him get dressed. When the door shut behind me I took a second to breathe.
Everything was happening so fast. My stomach was knotted up, half with guilt and half with fear.
Peter and the master had begun to feel like a dream more so than reality. They were a completely different life than the one I was living now, and I wasn't so sure how I felt about the two colliding.
I went downstairs and was greeted by a glaring Lorne.
"What?" I asked.
He put a finger to his lips and whispered, "Later."
I could already tell I was going to get a verbal beating.
I sat down on a bar stool and waited in silence until I could hear Peters footsteps come down the stairs.
He looked better, like there was more of a spring in his step.
"Where am I taking you, buddy?" Lorne asked. He hid his aggravation well, but probably only due to the fact that it was more aimed at me.
"Outside the coffee place works for me."
"Cool." He said, heading out to the garage without waiting for us to follow.
We all loaded into the car and drove in silence towards downtown. Sitting upfront with Lorne I could feel his obvious discomfort, but when I glanced in the rearview mirror all I saw was that smile I'd missed so much.
And with as much as I was aware of his ability to destroy my new life, all I could feel was relief. Like I'd had a tension headache for so long I'd forgotten it was even there until it was gone. Even though it's remedy brought a whole load of new problems with it.
Lorne parked on the side of the street and Peter climbed out. I got out too and ran around the hood of the car.
"Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
"I'm not exactly new to this." He rolled his eyes, "I have a system."
"You convinced someone else to tie you down every night?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Sort of."
I was tempted to ask but I could feel Lorne's eyes burning holes in my back.
"I'll see you tomorrow okay? I don't have a class until 11 so I'll have some time."
"Sounds good to me." He said it so simply, like we were just talking about going to the movies. But I knew his tricks by now.
I turned to get back in the car, throwing a, "Don't disappear again," over my shoulder.
We waved and disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway. I got back into the car and buckled my seatbelt, abiding eye contact with Lorne.
And, as if on cue, the second we pulled away from the curb he said, "You know I hate having to be the dad here."
"Yeah."
"You know I hate it, and yet you make me do it."
"I don't know if I'm making you do it."
"Well pardon me for stepping in when you seem intent on doing stupid things."
"It's not that bad."
"What are you doing?" He sighed, "What in the name of al that's good and holy do you think you're doing?"
"We're friends."
"First, you run off the stage and embarrass all of us, and we find you clinging to some homeless guy."
I got half way through saying sorry before he cut me off.
"Then I let the poor bastard take a shower at my house, and I find you guys in the middle of a Nicolas Sparks movie cover. What the hell is going on?"
"We weren't doing anything," I say, anger simmering in my veins, "I love Tony, you know that. He's just an ID friend from back home that I haven't seen in a very long time."
"Back home? I thought you grew up in the middle of nowhere Kentucky."
"Yeah."
"How did he get here?"
"I don't know."
He pulled up to a stoplight and turned to glare at me, "You can't tell me that someone who's just your friend traveled half way across the country, just to live in an alley way near you."
I just shrugged, partially because it was too much to try and explain to him, and also partly because I don't believe it myself.
He sighed, sounding defeated, "I hope you know what you're doing. I know you're a good person, but then again you've never had to prove it to me before."
"I'll try my best." Was all I said.
We drove in silence back to my dorm and didn't look each other in the eye again.

I stopped by the bathroom to wash my face and then snuck into the room.
Miriam was snoring as I climbed up the little step ladder to my bed. I'd grown comfortable with the copious amount of noises she made in her sleep. At this point they were almost lulling.
Even with the events of the day, I fell asleep swifty.
I was awoken by a chiming noise and Miriam's groans.
"It's your laptop."
I rubbed my eyes with one hand and extended the other.
She sighed, got up and tossed the computer onto my bunk.
It was Cam trying to Skype me.
I clicked it on and her face filled up my screen.
"What do you want?" I said, still not totally awake.
"Dad's new girlfriend is weird."
Since dad moved closer to town Cammy started spending time there. It was an adjustment for them both, but I was happy they were finally seeing eachother on occasion.
"She's just a Buddhist, be nice."
"She's not a Buddhist."
"I'm pretty sure that's what she is."
"She's meditating on the roof right now I don't think that'd their thing."
"Is this really why you woke me up at," I checked the time, "seven fifteen?"
She was in the process of getting ready for school while she talked. I could see the hair curler poking out at the edge of the screen.
"I was also wondering if you had my paisley skirt."
"No I don't even like that skirt."
"You just have bad taste, we've been over this." She said as she brushed on some mascara
I sat up, "You probably just left it at mom's."
"Dammit."
"This is seriously why you woke me up?"
"Pretty much," she smiled mischievously, "How's Lorne?"
"Gross." I groaned.
"Oh come on, he's not bad."
" Gross ." I emphasized.
She smacked her hand on her vanity, "He's cute."
"He's way to old for you, he's practically too old for me."
"It'll be legal in a few months though, so it can't be that bad."
"Nope, still gross," I said, and then called to the bunk below me, "Miriam, it's gross isn't it?"
"Really gross." She mumbled into her pillow.
"See, she agrees with me."
"That's just because she's half asleep."
"Because you woke her up."
"Fine, but we're continuing this discussion later, I'm not giving up."
I groaned, "Talk to you later sis."
She stuck her tongue out at me and hung up.
I closed the laptop and set it at the end of my bed.
Jumping down I said, "Sorry about that." To Miriam.
"It's fine, I have to get up anyway." She said as she turned over and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.
I chuckled and went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. When I came back she'd managed to pull herself up into a sitting position and was doing something on her phone.
I sat down at my desks and started messing with my hair and makeup.
There was nothing better for the nerves than doing makeup. It was one of the things I'd taken solace in if I was feeling uncomfortable or overwhelmed.
There's something about the simple act of grooming that makes you feel like you have just a little bit more control over your life.
When I was done I did one final check, trying to contain my anticipation.
I was going to see Peter. Someone I'd kind of assumed to be dead until yesterday. But somehow he was back in my life.
Grabbing my stuff I said goodbye to Miri, closed the door behind me and hopped down the stairs.
The biting winter air wasn't as bad as it usually was, and the slight rise in temperature left tiny puddles of melted snow for me to dodge as I made my way down the street.
I crossed the road to avoid the greenhouse construction that was eating up the sidewalk and got honked at by someone who didn't seem to be having nearly as good of a day as I was.
The walk was long, as usual, but I felt okay. The clopping sound of my shoes was confident and happy.
When I got to the alley way he wasn't there. Something that threatened to dampen my mood.
I looked around, suddenly worried that he'd made an escape. But I heard a small laugh and turned to look at the old woman sitting in the middle of the alley like she always did.
But this time instead of staring me down she stood up and gathered up he stuff, dumping it a few feet away.
She went back to the manhole, crouched next to it and pressed her ear to the cold metal.
I stepped forward curiously. But it clicked as I watched this woman, who looked frail and tiny, dig her fingers into the sides of the metal top and drag it away from the opening.
I stepped forward to try and help but she warned me away with a cutting glance.
After a few more jerks and weary looks from the other people sleeping in the alleyway, the hole was completely uncovered. I stepped forward and peered inside.
I saw the scratch marks along the inside before I saw Peter, crouching at the bottom, staring up at me.

He smiled and then began crawling up the small ladder that stuck out of the cement wall.
He wasn't wearing a shirt, so you could see his shoulder blades dance under his skin every time he reached for the next bar.
From that angle, with his blotchy burn scar, matted hair, and the fact that he was climbing out of a sewer, he almost looked like a monster.
But the second he pulled himself out and got to his feet, he looked over at me and smiled, which is the least monstrous thing in the world.
He was shivering violently in the winter morning air, but just as I was going to say something the woman walked up to him and sandwiched his hands between hers, rubbing warmth into them.
"Thanks, Delilah." He said as she brought his hands up to her face and breathed onto them.
"Hey Bo, could you hand me my clothes?"
I went over to his pile and just grabbed everything, not knowing exactly which wadded up piece of cloth he wanted.
Delilah released his hands so he could begin pulling on his clothes. He took everything out of my hands and layered it on, leaving only the dice.
I didn't know why I grabbed them, but I clutched them in my hands. Good luck.
Delilah ran her hands up and down his arms quickly, and he smiled and said, "I'll see you later, okay?"
She smiled her crooked tooth smile and nodded, and Peter turned to me and nodded his head towards the street. I shoved the dice into my coat pocket and followed him.
"So what are we doing boss?" I could still hear the coldness in his chattering voice.
"Something indoors," I said, "How about coffee."
"Works for me."
We walked for a minute before I said, "So you live in a sewer."
"Only part time," he smiled, "I seem to be doomed to living in some serious rat traps."
"It's not too bad, the smell keeps people from bothering me."
"Yes blame it on the smell and not that creepy beard."
"I kind of like it."
"It reminds me of porn from the 70s."
"I don't really get either of those references, but they sound offensive." We got to the Java Lab and walked through the door, ignoring the sharp looks people were throwing our way, or his way to be more exact.
"Yeah, the 70s were terrible."
We hovered around the glass case that housed the pastries and sandwiches.
"Want anything?" I asked.
He just shrugged, so I ordered two coffees and two muffins.
The employees eyed Peter suspiciously but he didn't seem to mind. He was probably used to it by then.
We got our food and went to sit down in a wooden booth on the far wall.
"Thanks for the food." He said, shoving half of the muffin into his mouth.
"Don't mention it."
He'd stopped shivering, but I could already smell the thick sewer smell already.
"So you're over the whole no touching women thing I see."
"Yeah, as much as I preferred to let that be our special thing," he smirked and I rolled my eyes, "turns out most people don't find it nearly as charming as you did."

"It's an acquired taste."
"A very hard to acquire taste, and for some reason people found it kind of offensive."
"Well with you screaming at their touch, I can imagine it would be hard to find the compliment in that."
He polished off the last of the muffin and wiped his mouth on a mucky looking wrist.
I tried my best not to look grossed out, "Why don't you let me get you some clothes or something."
"Nah, I actually know what money is now, and I don't think I can take any more of yours."
"Why not?"
"I didn't realize how expensive I must have been back then, you had to pay for my whole life. I don't want to live off of you again."
"It's honestly fine." I insisted. It was true that all the money I'd saved from my job as a waitress my senior year was wearing thin. Turns out it's harder to save money when you actually have a life. But I didn't mind getting him things he needed.
"I'm doing alright on my own." He said, sipping his coffee.
"Are you sure about that?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"It's so much more exciting here! Much better than being trapped in the woods. There's do many people, sure most of them aren't big fans of mine, but I don't mind." He took another sip, "I enjoy being a man of the world."
To emphasize his point he swung his arms around and managed to smack a lady on the stomach.
"Watch it!" She yowled, and the employees looked at us, waiting for a reason to kick him out.
He smiled and said, "Sorry 'bout that," and she just kept walking.
"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." I laughed, taking a few packets of sugar, shaking them, and then tearing them open into my coffee.
"I've dealt with worse."
I snorted through my nose a little bit and grabbed more sugar packets, pouring them into my overpriced drink.
"What's that?"
"Sugar."
"That's what sugar looks like?" He admired the spot near my cup where I'd spilled a little bit, "it's so powdery."
"Some man of the world you are."
"Okay, the world except sugar."
He grabbed a handful of packets and began tearing them open and pouring them into his mouth.
"Sugar is also good when it's not in things, who would have thought." He said with his mouth full of granules.
I laughed, not caring that everyone was looking at him like he was insane. It was a fair assumption after all.
His antics brought me back to the good old days.
"I'm sure they won't like it if you manage to eat all of their sugar packets."
"Screw 'em." He mumbled over the large mouthful he'd acquired.
I just sat there and laughed at him as he did his best to try and swallow it all down.
When he was done I asked, "Well if you don't want me buying anything for you, why don't you just come and get some of your old stuff?"
"You still have it?"
"In some boxes at my mom's house."
"Why?" He tried his coffee again, scrunching up his nose in the process.
I couldn't help but feel myself flush in embarrassment, "It just didn't feel right to get rid of all your stuff."
Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to. Even when I was trying my hardest to forget everything, getting rid of his stuff meant he was never coming back, and that was something I couldn't deal with then.
"Sure I'll go through it."
"Okay, I'll drive you up there this weekend, how about Saturday morning?"
"When is the Saturday?"
"Like three days from now, why are you saying 'the'?"
"Is it bad to say the?"
"No, why are you calling it the Saturday?"
"Is that not what you call that day?"
"Yeah, but there's no the, it's just Saturday."
"Oh, I've been saying that wrong for a while then." He smiled and shrugged, "However you say it, it works for me."
"Cool." I said, downing a few large gulps of coffee, "well I've probably got to start heading back soon, I need to study before class."
"Okay," he said, standing up, "Do you have my dice?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry." I pulled them out of my pocket and handed them to over, "You really like those don't you?"
"They're good luck," he said, "You told me that."

We walked back to the alleyway together.
He sat down against the wall as casually as someone might sit down on their couch, and handed his coffee over to Delilah, who was silently thrilled.
"I'll see you on the Saturday."
I was tempted to correct him, but I could tell from his shit-eating grin that he was messing with me.
I rolled my eyes, "See you then."
I walked to the building my first class was in and spent the rest of the day going to class and studying.
Tony texted me occasionally throughout the day, apologizing for being weird the night before.
I told him it was alright. I mean he was being jealous, but could I really blame him?
He showed up at my dorm later with candy, and we hung out for a while.
When the second movie of our mini marathon ended I said, "Okay, I have a test tomorrow so I really need to study a bit more before I pass out."
He snorted, closing the laptop that was balanced on his stomach, "Why?"
"Because I'm not smart like you and I need to."
"I'm not smart." He insisted.
It had always floored me how little he seemed to realize that fact. I referred to it as the Tony Effect, where someone is literally so smart they don't even know it.
He finally concedes and I kick him out, spending most of the night studying in a low light so that I wouldn't disturb Miriam.
The next few days I focused on school and band practice. Lorne gave up on the tough paternal thing after he saw Tony accompany me to a practice. I still went every morning to give money to Delilah and all the others, which I told Lorne and he accepted it on the grounds that Tony seemed okay with it.
Tony decided that it wasn't worth it to be that jealous of a random homeless man. So we all just sort of went about our merry business.
By the time Saturday rolled around I could barely sleep. There was just too much excitement cording through me. I liked going home and seeing my family, and this time, I would get to be with Peter.
I drove my car into town early that morning and tapped on my horn when I pulled up to the alleyway. He was already awake and out of the sewer.
Hopping into the car, he immediately rolled down the window as a courtesy to me. His shower at Lorne's had worn off a long time ago.
He went through a fast food drive through and I was shocked that he knew what he wanted.
I was even more surprised when we got to the window and he practically threw himself over me to wave at the employee.
"Hey, Ashley!" He beamed.
"Peter!" She seemed just as happy to see him, "How's things?"
"Not too bad, I think the weather's getting better."
"That's good, so. You'll be able to break out your spring ensembles soon."
They both laughed and then he waved goodbye as I paid for the food and pulled away.
"Making friends?"
"Yeah," he shoved a breakfast sandwich in his mouth and fought to speak through it, "The city is great, there are so many people to talk to here."
I laugh, "So that's how you got all the way here."
"Pretty much."
I turn on the music and flip to something I know he knows. As if on cue he begins singing along and I join in.
The whole trip is about 3 hours, and about half way there our singing finally tapers off and we just listened to the music play softly.
"So," I cut in, "That night when we went to save the boys, I was just wondering, how you did that thing?"
I waved a hand around my face to try and add some more definition to my vague question.
"Oh, right, that," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I didn't really do it per say. I just let it happen."
I glanced at him questioningly.
"I'm always fighting it. It never goes away, but it can only come out if I give into it. That's why it only used to happen while I slept, but anymore all it takes is me losing control for just a second. I just picked an opportune time."
"That sounds terrible."
"Yeah, I guess. The closest thing I can relate it to is when you're really nauseous and you feel like you're holding yourself back from puking. It's that feeling, just all the time."
"Okay, that really sounds terrible."
"There are worse things."
We didn't say much for the rest of the ride. There wasn't much to say after that.
We pulled up to the house a while later. No one was home, which didn't surprise me. Cam was probably at dad's and mom always had something to go to.
We got out and I tried to hide my smile as he swung his head around and insisted that all the houses were just the same building over and over.
We had to take off our shoes inside, which confused Peter, but he complied.
"My room is upstairs," I told him, and then laughed as he bolted up the carpeted stairs, nearly knocking down a framed portrait of Cameron and me.
He opened the first door and said, "It's so small."
I walked up the stairs and passed by him, "That's a coat closet."
"Oh," he said, closing the door and following me.
I walk into my room, flipping on the light to reveal my partially uninhabitable room. The bed was full of summer clothes and the rest of my things were half in and out of moving boxes.
I would have felt more embarrassed if it were anybody else here with me.
"Your stuff is in here," I said, opening my closet door and flipping on the light.
It was a big closet, mostly stuffed with all the things I avoided dealing with.
Peter's stuff was in a group of unmarked boxes underneath a set of shelves.
"That's it." I pointed, not wanting to get near them.
He happily ran over to them and got to his knees, tearing them open. It was adorable, like watching a kid on Christmas morning.
I stood there as he pulled out clothes and books, little pieces of our past together. He would take something out and twist around to show me.
I wanted more than anything to sit down next to him. But I was afraid to get too close.
I wasn't that person anymore.
"Do you remember this?" He went to get up but smacked his head on the bottom of my shelf.
He stopped, rubbing the back of his head.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
But instead of answering, he just growled.

I felt my stomach tighten.
That was a growl I knew.
He got to his feet slowly, not turning around.
The low rumble trailed off until the room was silent. Taking a step backwards I stumbled over an empty Pepsi can.
When I looked back he was facing me, eyes black and mouth smiling.
I stepped back again but I was afraid to turn my back on him. If I got far enough away I would be able to shut him in the closet.
I took another step and he didn't move. And then, as quickly as I could, I reached for the door and swung it close, but he was too fast.
He jumped forward and grabbed the edge of the door, pushing against my force easily.
He wasn't supernaturally strong by any means, but he sure had more strength than the skinny boy he'd just been.
I pushed back but my socked feet slid on the carpet.
He stopped pushing and I stumbled forward trying to get the door closed. But a second later there was a blunt force that smacked the door against my face knocked me back onto the floor.
I looked up to see him looming over me. He reached down, grabbed me by the roots of my hair, and pulled me to my feet.
"It's been a while." The low voice said.
"I could have waited a bit longer."
He laughed loudly, "Don't be so sure."
"No, I'm pretty sure." I insisted, pulling my hair between his fingers to free myself.
Then he swiftly grabbed my thighs and swept me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.
"Don't you remember this? Did you think your innocent friend would think to do something like this on his own?"
I was taken aback. I hadn't even thought about it when Peter did that, I thought he was just being cute because he missed me.
"It was all me, I just wanted to feel what it's like between your legs." He carried me over the wall and sandwiched me against it. There was no escape.
"Don't get me wrong, he thinks about it too, but it's not really his forte, you know?"
"But I didn't see you," it sounded weird to try and explain out loud, "In his eyes when he picked me up."
"I'm always here," he laughed, "I've always been there. Even in the very beginning when you found us in that old house. I saw you before he did."
My heart was pounding. I hated being this close. The emptiness in his eyes and the burn on his neck bright and throbbing, made my stomach twist.
"I'm what brought him back," he said, sliding his hands from my legs up to my waist and pressing me against him, "You should thank me."
I tried to lean back but he dug his long fingernails into my back.
"No thank you," I said, and immediately wanted to smack myself in the forehead.
He shared a similar opinion on the ridiculousness of my answer.
"I knew there was a reason I liked you," he raised his eyebrows, "You don't scare easy. Not like others, at least you're good at hiding it. I still remember some of those nights in the car, how you would lay there next to me, even go so far as to lock yourself in. That's not easy to do. And don't even get me started on finding the body, only a real fucking psycho would keep coming back."
I ignored the last part, "You were tied down."
"You really think I couldn't have killed you?" His arms tightened around me and his voice dropped even lower, "You think I can't kill you now?"
Feeling like an idiot I shook my head, "You won't."
He leaned in, his lips lightly grazing my ear, "Peter is the one who loves you, not me."
But before he could do anything else I grabbed the alarm clock off my nightstand and smacked it against his head as hard as I could.

We both collapsed onto the ground.
Peter was unconscious, but his burn scar, which was now just a little bit bigger, had cooled down to a normal color.
After untangling my legs I peaked under his eyelids to find only normal human eyes darting around beneath them.
My heart was still pounding in my ears, but I couldn't help bit feel guilty about the headache Peter was going to wake up to.
He began to stir almost instantly, but in a grumbling human way, so I left him there and went downstairs to the kitchen to get some ice.
Even though I could tell he was back to normal I still felt jumpy, like the monster was going to come back. I told myself it was silly, but I still glanced behind my back a few times as I got some ice cubes from the fridge.
It had made a lot of threats, but for some reason, I doubted it really planned on killing me. Maybe that was stupid to believe, but on the other hand, it had gotten countless opportunities.
I ignored thinking about the thing, Peter was who mattered out of the two.
Getting back to my room all I found was Peter rubbing his head.
"What happened?"
"You knocked your head a bit and, changed, you know."
He groaned, "I'm sorry. It's getting worse, I can't stop it."
He looked so pitiful, leaning against my night stand with a welt growing on his temple, it made it even harder to imagine the monster living inside him, "I know, it's not your fault."
"What happened?" He asked as I pressed the washcloth wrapped baggie of ice against his head.
"Not too much," I said, lifting his hand up and placing it over the ice pack, "He just said some stuff to try and scare me and I clocked him over the head with my alarm clock."
I wasn't going to say that he had definitely terrified me because now I knew he could hear me. Which made me nervous, like I'd been constantly spied on by some kind of creature.
He pressed the icepack to his face harder, "He didn't tell you his name did he?"
"No, why?"
"If you say its name it gives it more power over you."
"Say what's name?"
"The demon."
My stomach dropped. It made a lot of sense, in fact, I don't know why it's surprising me. But to hear him say it like it was a fact made my blood chill.
"You know it's a demon?"
"Yeah, I had it explained to me." He sighed, "Before I left the master told me about it. How he used the boys to feed on their blood, because demon blood makes you very powerful, even more powerful than he was when he originally sold his soul. I'm the most developed though, he said he'd never seen someone live in such harmony with it." He used his free hand to put air quotes around the last part.
"But I saw him change on command too."
"He didn't change, not in the same way at least, there's no more human left inside him, only a demon in a mask."

We sat in silence for a minute.
I found myself feeling unsafe for the first time since he'd come back into my life. Just the realization that this person who's out there, probably looking for at least one of us, isn't a person at all. Not to mention the fact that there was something less than a human who could see me right now.
I wanted to break the silence but was beaten to the punch by the garage door.
Jumping up, I left him there on my floor and ran down the stairs to see who it was.
I opened the door to the garage to see my sister jumping out of my dad's truck.
"Hey, Bowie!" My dad called out the window as the engine cut off.
I waved back, "Hey Dad!"
"Why are you here?" Cam asked, walking past me.
"Nice to see you too," I roll my eyes, "Do I need an excuse to be at my house?"
She just shrugged and continued into the living room.
My dad followed close behind and wrapped me up in a tight hug.
"I miss you rugrat. How's college?"
"It's fine, just college, you know."
Our little moment was interrupted by a loud yip and Cam yelling, "Who are you?"
We both hurried inside to see a loopy looking Peter stumbling down the stairs.
"I'm Peter." He smiled from underneath the ice pack and walked towards her.
In a flash she swung her backpack off her shoulder and hit him with it, causing him to topple over onto the floor.
"You are not nice." He mumbled, wincing as he tried to get back to his feet.
She looked ready to hit him again but I ran forward and grabbed the bag out of her hands.
"He's with me."
"Where on earth did you find this grunge wizard?"
"What are you talking about."
"I think she's talking about my beard," Peter added from the floor.
I glared at Cammy, "Be nice."
We both let go of the bag and it flopped to the floor, "Fine, but next time you should just bring Tony or Lorne."
"The last one is an immediate no."
She pointed a finger at me, "That gorgeous teddy bear will be mine."
"I'm so glad I'm hearing this." I heard my dad say from behind me, "wait a minute isn't that Callie's friend?"
It took me a second for my old cover story to come back to me, "Yeah, Peter."
"Huh, you haven't even talked to Callie in forever."
I shrugged and brushed it off, not wanting to talk about her. It was simple, inevitable, I guess. We grew apart, like most people.
Peter was still trying to get to his feet and keep the ice pack on his face, so I walked over to help him.
"Did you beat the poor bastard?" My dad asked, half jokingly.
"Psh, no," I stammered, "he just fell down some stairs."
"Yeah," Peter chimed in, "those ones, all of them," he waved his free arm towards the staircase, "I'm bad at them."
Wincing I whispered, "Please stop," in his direction.
My family stared at him for a minute before I just said we needed to pack some stuff and hurried Peter up the stairs.
Getting him inside my room and closing the door, I let out a breath.
"Sorry." He said as he sat down on the corner of my bed, "I should have just stayed up here."
"It's fine, okay?" I insisted.
I surprised myself by walking up to him and pulling his head to much chest in a hug. The more I met the demon, the happier I was to have normal Peter around. Something in the back of my mind made me feel like it wouldn't be a given much longer.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly from my chest.
"Yeah, yeah," I stammered, "come on let's just get some things and go."
We went back to hunting through my mess of a room. His eyes lit up when he saw the guitar leaning against a wall.
"Can I take it?"
"Of course, it's yours."
"No it's not."
"Says the only person who's played it, nay, the only person who's ever tried." I laughed, "You should play it on the street for cash."
He didn't even try to hide his enthusiasm as he slung it over his shoulder. I smiled. I would have bought him a new guitar if I would have thought it would make him that happy.
He grabbed a few pieces of clothing but didn't bother with the books, claiming it wasn't worth it if there wasn't someone to read them to him.
He shoved everything into an old backpack of mine and we headed downstairs.
Dad and Cam were watching a cooking show in the living room and waved goodbye. It was so nice to see them getting along so well, I knew how bad it hurt him that one of his daughters never wanted to see him.
"Wait!" Cam called to me, jumping over the back of the couch, "Mom when and got your meds refilled early. They're on the counter."
She skipped past me and grabbed the little paper bag off my obligatory pile of junk mail.
"Thanks," I take the bag out of her hand and hug her, "love you, I'll text you later."
"Sure thing weirdo," She smiles and then goes to sit back on the couch with dad.
We head out the door to my car and I help him load his stuff into the trunk and we get it.
"Meds?"
"Medicine," I explain, "antidepressants."
"What do those do."
"They keep me normal," I said flatly, not in the mood to relive the chunk of time last summer when my mom made it her mission in life to have me medicated.
He had to have sensed my coolness to the subject, so he didn't question me further.
I backed out of the driveway and we began the drive back to town.
Despite the swelling on the side of his face and my mom net of coldness, Peters mood was impeccable.
"What's got you so happy?"
"It's a good day I guess." He shrugs, "Reminds me of the old days."
"Yeah, it was a good summer," I said, almost feeling the demon mock me from inside him.
I thought about what he said about Peter loving me. The idea made my throat tighten.
"They're pretty much the only good memories I have."

When we got back to town I dropped him off at his usual corner. As I pulled away I saw him wave to me in the rear view mirror, and I realized how much it made my stomach turn to leave him. But I needed to be alone with my thoughts for a little while.
Driving back to my dorm, I made my way up to my room quickly and fell asleep. I didn't even remember being that tired.
The next few weeks were a surprisingly happy pattern. My days were spent studying and going to class, then at night I spent my time with Tony, at band practice, or hanging out with Peter. It was a pattern I was very content with.
But even as I sat in the library every morning or sung on the street as Peter played the guitar for spare change, I felt uneasiness prickle the back of my neck.
But I never saw the master, nor did I see the demon that lived inside Peter again. Despite all odds, things were relatively routine.
"I got you something," Peter said as he pulled the guitar strap over his head and set the instrument down against the wall.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah," he pulled out what looked like a wadded up shirt from his backpack and handed it to me.
When I grabbed it I could feel the weight of something solid inside.
"Sorry, I'm bad at wrapping."
I rolled my eyes and peeled the fabric back to reveal a small black alarm clock. A bubble of laughter shook my shoulders as I looked at the device in my lap.
"Do you like it?"
"Yeah, its great,"I insisted, hopping the laughter didn't hurt his feelings, "Why did you get it for me?"
"You broke your other one on me."
"How did you even afford this?"
"I mean it's second hand, but it works." He almost looked a little hurt.
"I'm sorry, I love it I swear, but you're supposed to use money for food and important things like that."
"This is important, it's my fault it was broken so I wanted to make it up to you."
"You didn't have to do this."
"I know."
I was going to argue the point further, but it didn't seem worth it. So I just leaned over and gave him a hug.
"And to show you how thankful I am, I'm getting you some coffee," I said, setting the bundle to the side and getting to my feet.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know." I half mocked him but topped it off with a smile.
Walking down the street to the Java Lab, I got us both coffee and bagels. The employees had grown used to seeing me all the time and made light chitchat as my order was prepared. I probably would have been more friendly back if they ever treated me this way when Peter was with me.
Soon one of the employees set my stuff down in front of me, but before I could take it one of the bagels was snatched away.
The lady at the register turned back to the person who'd set everything on the counter and said, "This one's burnt make it again," and then turned back to me, "sorry about that."
"No, it's fine I'll take it."
"It's okay we'll just make a new one."
I grabbed the other stuff, "If I don't eat it, who else will?"
The woman examined me and my outstretched hand for a second before shrugging and handing the bagel over, "Suit yourself."
"Thanks!" I said and left a dollar in the tip jar to show that there were no hard feelings.
On my way back I made sure to take a bite out of the burnt one so Peter wouldn't reach for it.
As I was chewing on the big piece I felt someone bump into my shoulder. They didn't turn when I grunted in surprise, just kept barreling through the sparse crowd.
I could see Peter ahead, pawing through his backpack. The cup that he collected tips in sat by his feet.
The figure in front of me sped up, and as they got to Peter they swiftly bent down and scooped up the cup, taking off down the street with it.
Peter's head whipped up just as the cup was snatched. I was close enough at that point that I could see the change in his face.
"Peter," I warned loudly, "Peter, no!"
But it was too late. He jumped to his feet, eyes already black, and took off after them.

He didn't go directly after the person like I thought he would. Instead, he veered into an alleyway and disappeared.
I followed and only caught a glimpse of him disappearing around the corner. It was hard to keep up with him, he was faster than he looked.
As I got around the corner I saw him intercept the thief almost perfectly in front of a different alleyway across the street.
He shoved them into it, away from the public eye. I was close behind.
"Peter!" I huffed, nearly out of breath, it had been a while since my running days.
He didn't even turn around. The thief stumbled and was trying to get up too fast, which caused them to trip over their own feet just long enough for Peter to grab them by the roots of their hair and pick them up.
A scream had only begun to exit their lips when he punched them in the throat, stopping it half way.
"So you wanted money?" He hissed, grabbing a hand full of coins that spilled onto the ground, "Well here you go."
He pressed the person, who I could see now was a rough looking woman, against the wall. With one hand tangled in her hair and his chest crushing her into bricks, he began shoving the dirty coins into her mouth when she opened it to scream.
She began choking on them but he pressed harder, "You can go when you swallow them all, bitch."
I saw tears begin to roll down her cheeks and I stepped forward and yanked on his arm.
"Stop it!" I did my best to sound commanding. He lost his grip on the woman for a second and she lurched forward spitting coins onto the ground.
He glared at me and then pushed me away with enough force to send me toppling into the opposite wall. When he saw that I was distracted by the cuts on my palms and the bruise on the back of my head he turned his attention back to the woman.
He put a foot on her back and forced her to the concrete.
"You missed a few."
When all she did was whimper he spat on her face and repeated his instructions until she began eating the coins off the wet ground.
I stood up, a little dizzy from hitting the wall and went to push him off of her.
He could see me coming, so my hands on his chest didn't make too much of an impact. But it was enough for her to slip out from under him and run away.
He let her go, focusing his attention on me now.
"I missed you, he never lets me out to play when you're around." He smirked.
I laughed nervously in response, "I definitely didn't miss you."
"That stings," he said, "But you should probably get used to it."
"Why is that?"
Before answering he bent down and collected the remaining bills and coins that were littered on the ground and then shoved them into my hands.
"I'm finally free for once without being stuck in that sewer, and I don't have any urge to give that up anytime soon. Lucky for me there's no alarm clocks out here."
I groaned, "And what do you intend to do?"
"Whatever I want." He smiled.
I sighed, "Well have fun, I'm not dealing you."
It kind of felt like a lie when I said it. I mean I couldn't just let him roam the streets like this. But I also didn't want him to think I'm going to help him.
"I wouldn't be so sure," I crinkled my eyebrows at him, "Granted you obviously don't like me, but I'm also still in your friend's body. And I know for a fact that he wouldn't enjoy waking up in jail."
"For a fact?"
"I mean I can hear him. It's gotten quieter as time has gone on, but he's in there."
I felt a pang of sadness in my chest. I'd known that the demon could hear me when I was with Peter, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred that Peter was still there when the monster took over.
"And he's saying he doesn't want to go to jail," I said, still rubbing the back of my sore head.
"Not really," he said, taking a step towards me, "He's mostly begging me not to kill you."