Ned stood slack-jawed for a few seconds before he fell against the wall of the closet. "Holy fuck. I mean, sorry, I know ya don't like that kinda--"

"It's okay, Ned," said Cassie. "I almost reacted that way myself when I figured it out."

"It's just ... shit ... an' ya think Victor never knew the hornets' nest he was stirrin' up?"

"How could he? There was no way he could have known that what he was doing to Stephanie was the very thing that awakened her latent psychic powers!"

"Are ya really sure 'bout this?" Ned insisted.

"I'm sure, Ned. It's happening to me now. Stephanie either transferred some of her ability to me or she awakened it in me."

"Oh man."

"It wasn't until I started having sex with multiple partners that it really started to come out. But now you see why Victor so horribly caged up the real Stephanie in her own mind."

"Yeah, I do," said Ned, clenching his fist. "Shit. It's not jus' that she could resist him, is it?"

"If that was it, he could let her go and make her forget it ever happened," Cassie said. "Once he awakened her powers, she not only could resist him, she could help anyone else resist him."

Ned nodded. "Yeah, I get it. And then there goes his cushy li'l setup in Haven."

"Twenty-one years, Ned! He's been doing this horrible thing in Haven for over two decades. And ... and now I'm the one that could stop him. If he doesn't find me out first."

"He won't, babe."

"But for all I know, he already suspects. Maybe Heather had a vision about me last night, or she was mistaken that Melinda was the one in danger."

"Cassie, we're gonna stop 'im cold. I got a plan."

Cassie let out a sharp breath. "No."

Ned smiled. "All I need is 'bout ten minutes an' you'll be changin' yer mind."

"I don't mean it that way, I mean I don't want to talk about it now."

"I jus' think we--"

"Later, Ned. I have to get out of here before I get saddled with my family's social engagements." She paused and softened her voice. "I promise, I'll come by later and we can find some place to talk."

"Okay, babe." Ned sighed. "I'm jus' worried about ya, ya know? I wanna make sure yer safe. Yer money can only go so far."

Cassie had the wild notion that Ned had done all this just to protect her, as if he had known that she would be in danger. It destroyed her ability to maintain her anger towards him. All she had left was a lingering frustration, but it was nowhere near enough.

"That's sweet, Ned," Cassie said in a soft voice.

Ned wiped his face with his hand, his cheeks burning. "Look, um, I got jus' one question. What is it 'bout the sex with different people that's doin' it? What's the gimmick there?"

"I don't know exactly, but it's just like the link. Maybe the variety makes the energy better. There must be some sort of underlying principle to it. Jason might find it when he has a chance to go through the rest of Elizabeth's journal."

The wall behind Ned rumbled with muffled flowing and splashing noises, and floorboards creaked overhead. "I better go, babe, neanderparents are stirrin' in their caves."

"Okay, I'll come by as soon as I'm done with the costumer. Bye, Ned."

"Bye, Cassie."

Jason was up early as well, thinking that if he could get to some of his chores early, he might impress his mother enough to earn some time to himself. He avoided spending too much time on the computer that morning, but there was one thing he had to do. He had to perform his weekly father check.

It was not much, and he doubted it would ever reveal anything even if there were any connection between his father and events in Haven. Nevertheless, he performed his usual internet searches for anything about his father, his closest colleagues, the new hospital wing construction project, or the hospital itself.

That morning, like it did every Saturday, it turned up nothing unusual.

Jason never knew whether to be relieved or frustrated. His father's connection to the Darkness still eluded him. His Aura was the most unusual of any he had seen. Some of the patterns still defied explanation. More mysterious and worrying was the fact that his father helped him on occasion. He wondered if he could put that to the test.

Jason shut down his computer and exited his room. He heard muffled noises from the basement, likely his father at work breaking down the cardboard boxes that had accumulated. Henry tended to jump on weekend chores early after a fight with Audrey.

Jason set his jaw and marched down the basement stairs. His father did not even turn around when he spoke. "You're early, son."

Jason paused at the bottom step. His father's Aura had changed again. The patterns were more ordered now, the slithery movements of the black miasma moving to a regimented beat of his father's own unfathomable design.

In the wake of the silence, his father turned around.

"I want to get some of them done early," Jason said in a neutral voice as he walked towards his father.

Henry nodded. The corners of his mouth edged upward. "Got someplace to go?"

"I just have things I want to do today is all."

"Hmm." His father turned away and gestured towards a pile of flattened cardboard pieces. Jason saw the nearby ball of twine and understood his task. He was well into his work, one bundle neatly tied on the basement floor next to him, when his father finally added, "Lot's of luck with that today."

"Mom still angry?"

"Yeah."

They worked in silence for another few minutes.

Henry finished breaking down a large box and glanced at his son. "Your mother tells me you want to go to the Halloween party at school."

Jason was not expecting the question and gave his father a nonplussed look. He recovered and remained resolute. "Yes."

"You never wanted to go to those things before."

"This time I wanted to," Jason said, his voice sharper than he had intended. He forced his voice to a more civil tone when he spoke again. "I mean, Melinda wanted to go, so I thought I would, too."

"She says you're getting a costume from a friend."

"Yeah, so?" Jason realized he had done it again and uttered a short sigh. "Sorry. I mean, yes, I am. Is there anything wrong?"

"Audrey's not too happy about it."

Jason cut a piece of twine too short and set it aside. "She never said anything to me about it."

"Course not. That would be the direct and logical approach. Instead, I take flak for it."

Jason looked up. "I'm sorry."

Henry met his son's eyes and shook his head. "No. You're not really sorry."

Jason bit back a retort. He wanted to blurt out "since when did you have such keen insight into my head," but settled for something he hoped sounded more sedate. "I just don't get why she would be upset. It's not like I go to these things all the time."

Jason understood that he could not fault his father; Henry sounded as irritated as he. Yet the father-son talk felt awkward and contrived. Or, rather, he wanted to believe as such; thinking of his father as a stranger made it easier to accept the presence of his Aura.

Henry watched his son, and Jason pretended not to care about the scrutiny. He finished tying another bundle and flung it onto the pile, which teetered and tipped over. Jason grunted and began to reassemble the pile.

His father stopped him with a gentle squeeze on his arm. Jason flinched and nearly wrenched it away. He spun around. "What?"

"What have you been doing to get your mother so upset?"

"I don't understand. Do you mean the stuff about being home earlier after school?"

"That's just part of it. See, when you mother's upset, she really lets loose about everything that's bothering her," Henry said. "Naturally it was all in the guise of 'if only you'd been home more often yourself,' but that's beside the point."

Jason was taken by the bitterness in his father's voice. He wondered just how bad things were between them now.

"She even mentioned all the rumors she's been hearing," Henry said.

Jason frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

"Are you going to accuse me of something, Dad, or are we just going to spin our wheels all day?"

"You think I'm going to accuse you of anything?"

Jason shook his head. "Stop with the games, okay? I'm too old for them now. Just come out and say what you want to say."

Jason had abandoned any hope of using his father to run interference for him with his mother. He was on a short fuse now, and getting shorter every day that ticked closer to Halloween. To both his surprise and irritation, his father smiled.

"That's better," said Henry.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're finally owning up to the fact that you're doing quite a bit that you're not telling your mother about."

Jason clenched his jaw and tried to count to ten before he replied, but got only as far as three. "And you think I'm going to tell you about it instead?"

A floorboard above their heads creaked. "First of all, keep it down," Henry said in a lower voice. "Second of all, you're missing the point."

"Then enlighten me."

"The point is not to draw attention to yourself."

Jason stared. "Huh?"

"Jason, your mother is hearing all sorts of rumors. Only they're not completely rumor, are they?"

Jason said nothing and folded his arms, his eyes cool.

"If it were anything else -- smoking, drinking, even petty theft or vandalism, hell, even bad grades -- any of that she can handle. But not when it involves sex."

Jason gave his father a stony look, using it as a mask over the worry.

Henry observed his son for a moment. "It's not just the sex, is it? Something else is going on with you and your friends. The sex is just part of it."

Jason again remained silent.

Henry smirked. "I don't expect you to tell me, just like I don't expect you to tell me about what really happened out in that picnic area in the hills with that Melissa girl. I suppose this is more of the same. Some sort of crusade. A show of bravado." His smirk faded. "I hope you really know what you're up against."

"Why? Is it you?" Jason heard himself say.

Henry frowned. "No. But maybe I know a little something about what's going on."

Jason bit back another retort. He had no idea if his father knew that he could see the Aura. The last thing he wanted to do was give his father any more information. Yet encounters like this proved that his father had his own agenda. He had the "taint" of the Darkness, perhaps some sort of power as well, but to what direction it was pointed Jason had no idea.

Henry stepped closer to his son and lowered his voice. "Look, your mother made me promise to talk to you about this stuff. Consider this that talk. I'm going to go back and tell her that it was overblown, that the only one you're actively having sex with is your girlfriend Melinda and that you promised to dial down the heat." Henry sighed. "I'll also tell her that you were smart enough to use protection. She really freaked out about that."

"Why the hell do you have to tell her anything at all?" Jason countered, but he already knew the answer.

"Because your mother is not stupid, Jason. If I tell her you're not having sex, she'll know it's a lie. The cat is out of the bag on that one. You think all that stuff about you coming home early was just to have you around? No, it's because if you're here at home, you're not off somewhere boffing your girlfriend."

Jason wanted to protest, but anything he could say would sound as ridiculous as his father's use of the out-of-date term for sex. His next words were spoken as a statement rather than a question. "You're not telling me to stop, are you?"

"I'm not saying anything about it one way or the other, because as I said, I know there's more to it than that," said Henry. "But I will tell you this: Learn to keep it under your hat. Don't give your mother more reason to get stressed out."

Jason refused to believe that he was a major cause of the tension between his parents. He could land the blame in his father's court: the late nights at the hospital; the missed dinners; the weekends at the office. However, Jason did not want to add another burden on top of that.

Yet the last thing he wanted to do was anything that would benefit his father. "You still won't tell me why you're doing this for me. Why you're trying to cover for me."

His father paused for a long moment. He glanced towards the stairs and listened to his wife's movements upstairs. "Because just maybe we're not as much at odds with each other as you think," he said in a lower voice.

Jason gave him a dubious look.

"Yeah, I know, you won't believe that."

"Just admit you're up to something," Jason said, exasperated. "Just admit that something is going on at the hospital."

"And what would you know of anything there, hmm?"

Henry's voice hinted at amusement. Jason did not appreciate the reminder that he had failed to glean any information from the hospital's computer network.

"Don't interfere, Jason," Henry said. "Do what you will with your friends, but keep your nose out of my business. Do I make myself clear on this matter?"

"Crystal," Jason declared in a flat voice.

Henry nodded once. "Go up to the garage and get the garbage cans hosed out. Then gather the dead branches from the back yard and bundle them up. If you get that done early, I'll see if I can get Audrey to lighten up and let you go."

"But won't she think I'm just going to go have sex with Melinda?"

"Not if you tell her you had the talk with me, and you get back this afternoon at a reasonable time."

Jason sighed. "All right," he muttered.

As he trudged up the stairs, he wondered if his father's motivation was to divert attention from himself. Perhaps he was behind everything: Victor, Nyssa, maybe even the Darkness itself.

Jason frowned as he reached the door. An attempt to grasp such an easy solution would only lead him to paranoia.

"Melinda, maybe you should forget about the costume measuring," Heather said as she and her sister emerged from their bedroom.

"No way, Heather, I'm not going to take the chance on getting a crappy costume!" Melinda retorted.

"You never told Cassie what you wanted, so you're already going to get second choice."

"But at least I'll get something that fits." Melinda flounced down the stairs, her hair swaying against her back.

Heather rushed after her. "I don't know when it could happen, runt. I just know that it doesn't happen here. You're safer if you stay home."

Melinda whirled around at the bottom of the stairs. "Look, I'm worried, too, okay? Cassie said she'd come pick me up and bring me back. Think anyone's going to go after me when I'm with her?"

"Cassie's money is not going to protect you against someone like Victor. Or the Darkness."

Melinda's eyes shimmered for a moment, but she shook her head. "This is stupid. I can't just hole up in here. Like this is any safer with my Mom the sex slave trader."

"Will you stop it with that?"

"No. Get it through your head, Heather. She failed. You don't get second chances at being a mother. You just don't."

Melinda rushed towards the kitchen. Heather followed, then nearly collided with her just inside the door.

Penny looked up from her newspaper, a half-finished cup of coffee in her free hand. "Good morning," she said, her voice crisp. "I hope you both slept well."

The girls stared at their mother in silence. Her Aura lay like an inky cloak about her shoulders and licked at her arms and waist. The sash on her robe was loose, dark tendrils slithering over bare flesh, teasing her intimate folds or spidering out over her breasts. Small whorls of black caressed her nipples.

Melinda clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "Close your damn robe, Mom," she muttered, turning towards the cabinets above the kitchen counter.

Penny put down her coffee and pulled her robe closed. "I'll make you two breakfast if you like."

Melinda said nothing. She grabbed a bowl from one cabinet, a box of cereal from another, and stuck the spoon in her mouth until she could get it all to the table.

Penny's lips tightened. "I do prefer a little more civility from my daughters."

"Sorry to have to disappoint you," Melinda muttered as she dropped everything to the table and turned to get the milk.

Heather still stood by the door, her hands grasping the back of one of the chairs. Penny's eyes took on a distant look as they gazed at her older daughter.

Heather hardened her face as much as possible. She yanked the chair back and fell into it. "And no, I don't want any breakfast either." Heather resisted the urge to add "I don't want anything from you."

"I just don't want to, well, fail at providing my daughters something to eat," said Penny in a curt voice.

Melinda plopped the milk carton down on the table and dropped into the seat. She met her mother's accusing gaze with regret, but not for what she had said.

"Mom, look," Heather began. "We're not going to get in your hair today. We'll just do our thing and you do yours."

The regret disappeared from Melinda's face. "Yeah, you can go see how many other girls you can sell to--"

"Melinda!" Heather hissed. "You're not helping."

"Fine. I won't say another word."

"I'm not going to talk about what happened yesterday, so say all you want about it," Penny said. "But I would like to know what you have planned for today."

"Why?" Melinda demanded.

"Because there are some chores that need to be done around here, and it's about time you two got to them."

"What, all of a sudden?"

"What chores, Mom?" Heather said, trying to keep her voice calm.

"The garage is a mess for one thing," Penny said. "And there's some stuff that needs to be taken to the attic. Not to mention we still have a mess in the back yard from the windstorm a few days ago."

"Dad does all that stuff," Melinda said.

"And I don't think he should do it alone. I want you two to help him today."

Melinda exchanged a confused look across the table with Heather. "You actually want us to stay in?" Melinda said. "Like, all day?"

Penny hesitated. "I want you to do the chores that I assign you if that's what you mean. And I suppose they will take you awhile. I'm sure there's a lot more that I haven't mentioned."

Heather did not know what to make of this. Was this another attempt to protect them?

Melinda was thinking the opposite. If her mother wanted it, it had to be exactly the thing that she should not do. "I have plans already, Mom," Melinda said as she poured milk into her bowl. She wolfed down a few spoonfuls before she spoke again. "I have to go out to get my costume done for the party."

Heather stared at Melinda. Melinda shrugged. She could not think of a lie and reasoned that the knowledge would be nothing that her mother or the Darkness did not already have.

Penny hesitated. "When?"

"About nine. Cassie's coming to pick me up," Melinda said. She raised her voice. "You remember her, right? The rich girl that lives on the mesa? The one whose parents own half the town? The ones that would get really pissed if something happened to her daughter just because she happened to be with me when--"

"Melinda!" Heather cried.

"When what?" Penny said.

Melinda clamped her mouth shut. Milk dribbled from one corner of her mouth before she finally swallowed. "Nothing," she muttered. She glanced at her mother's Aura and saw it swirl in agitation. The Darkness was listening.

"Are you sure?"

"Look, Mom, it's no freaking secret, okay?!" Melinda snapped, her spoon splashing milk on the table. "You practically sold Heather to Ms. Bendon yesterday. Can you blame me for thinking you might want to make it a set?"

Penny let out a breath. "I am doing nothing of the sort, and you'll watch both your voice and your attitude at the table." She eyed the spill and frowned.

Heather leapt out of her seat and snatched a paper towel from the dispenser. Heather glared at Melinda when she made no attempt to move her bowl to give Heather easier access to the spill. Melinda stuck her tongue out at Heather.

"Is that the only time you can do it?" Penny asked.

"Yes, it's the only time I can do it," Melinda spit back between bites of cereal.

"How long will it take you?"

"A long time. Hours. Maybe the whole day."

"Melinda, stop it," Heather snapped. She turned to her mother. "Mom, it will probably take an hour, tops, since Cassie's going to drive her to the costumer and back."

"Then I want you right back home when you're done," Penny said.

Melinda grunted.

"Did I make myself clear, young lady?"

"Yeah, fine," Melinda said. "Whatever."

Penny stared at her younger daughter for a moment before rising from the table. Her Aura trailed behind her, a few snakelike tendrils clinging to the table and chair, snapping at Melinda and Heather as if in mockery before following their mistress. "I have to wake your father up. He needs to catch up on some email from an important project at work. When I get back, I expect the attitudes to be in the trash along with the paper towel used to clean up Melinda's mess."

She banged on the swinging door with her fist as she barreled through, leaving it flapping behind her.

Heather sighed and fell into her seat. "Nice going, runt. Real mature."

"Give me a fucking break, Heather," Melinda said. "Look, are you sure it's not going to happen here?"

"I'm positive. It was nowhere near this place."

"Or maybe she's going to take me there."

Heather shook her head. "I'm not getting that. Remember, I get the real warning flashes when it gets close to the place and the time. This isn't the right place. And everything is not Mom's fault, okay? She probably has nothing to do with this."

"But you said you heard her talk about Victor!"

"Yeah, but it's not like with Ms. Hollis. If Mom had any power like that, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Think for a minute, will you? Remember what Mara told us at the House? She said Mom was doing something to protect me already from the danger on Halloween. If she's in it with Victor, maybe it was just to keep me safe from him."

"Oh, that's really stretching it, Heather."

"Maybe. But I just can't handle treating everyone as the enemy. It gets to you."

"You can't start trusting Mom again," Melinda said. "Please, don't fall for that."

"I'm not. I just want to cut her some slack. If we didn't raise such a fuss then she wouldn't have to get suspicious about anything we're doing. You realize you almost blew it back there?"

Melinda frowned. "Huh?"

Heather lowered her voice and leaned forward. "Melinda, we don't know how much the Darkness knows about our powers. It may not know about my precog stuff."

Melinda sighed. "All right, I'm sorry," she muttered.

"Just finish your breakfast and let's get to these chores. And try not to keep suspecting Mom every time she looks at us funny or leaves the room."

Penny closed the bathroom door behind her and brought the cell phone to her ear. Her fingers twisted the hem of the robe.

"Yes?" said a voice that made Penny tremble.

"I-it's Penelope, Victor. I'm ... I'm going to have some trouble with her."

"You will do as you are told, like any good whore would."

Penny clamped her legs together and tried to ignore the sudden heat in her pussy. "I just need to make it a little later, that's all."

"Between ten and eleven, whore. That's what your john wants."

Penny let out a husky sigh. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and spread her legs. "Please, Victor, I beg you."

"Are you being my whore? Are you doing what a good whore should do now?"

Another lustful sigh passed her lips. She thrust her hand between her legs and rubbed her slick clit. Terrible, wet pleasure spread from her pussy and through her trembling body. "I am now," she moaned.

"Obey," said Victor. "That's what a good whore does."

"Uhng ..." Penny sank two fingers into her tunnel and gasped as she imagined a cock thrusting into her helpless cunt.

"Does this conversation need to continue?"

Penny panted. "Victor ... sh-she knows something ... she knows ..."

Silence.

"Oh God ... so wet ... want a nice thick cock in my twat ..." Penny moaned.

"Stop."

A shaky, disappointed sigh blew from between Penny's lips as her fingers came to rest, still buried in her cunt.

"How would she know?" Victor demanded. "Did you tell her?"

"Uhn ... no! No, Victor, a whore wouldn't do that!"

"Then how could she possibly know?"

"I don't know. I just think that she does. Th-the ... the Darkness thinks so, too."

"I see."

"I can still do it for you, Victor," Penny said. "Please, I know how to be a good whore. Let me do that. I'll imagine your cock hard and fast inside me while I'm doing it. I'll be at your feet sucking your cock. I'll--"

"All right," Victor snapped. "But why did you ask for the delay?"

"She has to go out around nine to get a costume measured for the party on Monday. If I told her no when she already suspects something, that might--"

"Enough. Very well. I will leave it to your judgment. Get her there at the earliest possible time that will not arouse suspicion. I still have my doubts as to your supposed revelation, but we will err on the side of caution."

"Thank you, Victor," Penny gushed. "Thank you."

"Now cum like a whore for me."

Penny slid from the toilet seat and fell to her knees. She angled her fingers upwards and thrust her hips against them, as if humping a man's cock. She panted into the phone, fingers curling around it until the knuckles turned white. She closed her eyes, and was no longer in the bathroom of her own house. Beneath her, Victor lay with his thick cock inside her, her fishnet-clad legs splayed on either side of him.

"I can feel your cock up my twat," Penny cooed into the phone. "It's what I live for. A wet pussy for you. Just a wet, tight pussy."

The words inflamed her lust even as she burned with humiliation, the two rising in equal measure. She whimpered as she strained at the edge. Suddenly her pussy gushed, a single short burst over her fingers and splashing to the tile.

"Be a good whore for me, Penelope," said Victor. "That's all you need to do. That's all the use you are now."

"Y-yes, Victor," Penny moaned, both in lingering desire and growing despair. "Of course."

You want to use it.

The sprayer fell out of Jason's hand and into the garbage can. A jet of water glanced off the inside as he scrambled to retrieve it, catching him full in the face. Clenching his teeth, he bashed the sprayer against the concrete of the driveway until it unstuck, the handle popping back as it shut off.

Jason threw down the plastic garbage can onto its side and wished they still had the stainless steel one, as it would make a more satisfying clang. Though this one afforded him the luxury of kicking it, which he did several times until his initial fury burned out.

He finally clutched the pendant through his shirt and hissed, "Shut up."

I can sense your desire.

Jason ground his teeth. He wished the voice at least tried to sound alluring or enticing. He found its matter-of-fact tone infuriating, that it could be so glib as to state everything as a guaranteed outcome.

Jason refused to respond further, except to think hard that his hand was forced, and that Diane had consigned herself to the role. From the patterns of energy he saw over the link, he knew that both Heather and Melinda had fallen to the same manufactured perception.

He finally expressed in his head what he could not bring himself to tell the others: This could be a damn trap! Victor could be waiting for us to do this just so he can--

What others desire matters not once you have the power, came the stoic reply.

Jason closed his eyes and repeated to himself again that the Book was only a tool. The requirements of the spells were not instruments of evil, but a measure of need. They forced the would-be caster to examine if the ends justified the means.

Jason had thought of leaving the pendant behind, but with his father roaming over the whole house, he didn't want to take the chance of the Book being discovered without his knowledge.

There is much more that will be open to you once you have the power.

Jason shook his head. His fingers loosened, diminishing the voice in his head.

You can manipulate the lines.

"No."

You can solve your problem.

"N ..."

You can destroy it.

Jason closed his eyes. "Stop it," he whispered, his conviction as weak as his voice.

Cut the lines from the node, and the entity will wither and die. Move the lines, and it will be torn to shreds when the node moves. Change the energy of the lines, and it will be crushed between opposing forces.

Jason's fingers tightened again. His eyes opened. "Why do you want me to destroy it?"

These are simply examples of things you can do.

"But you never told me how I could use the spells. This time you specifically told me how to use it against the Darkness."

The Book was silent.

Jason clutched the pendant. "Answer me, dammit. Why did you never say any of that before?"

Again, nothing. Jason could still sense his connection to the Book. He saw the dusty, dark space under his bed through the Book's eye.

"What are you not telling me?" Jason demanded. "What else is there that I still don't know? What else am I expected to figure out myself?"

Jason waited, then forced himself to let go of the pendant. His cheeks glowed pinkish-red.

As he picked up the garbage can and hose, he realized the Book had only been a catalyst. The lack of allies outside of his fellow teenagers was far more frustrating than he had wanted to admit. He found it easy to forget that they were only teens, children by most standards, without a fraction of the resources that adults enjoyed.

They had Mrs. Radson, but hers was a passive role. Jason had still not heard if she could accommodate his request, a request that sounded as outrageous to him as he was sure it had sounded to her. If she did acquiesce, Jason felt it would be enough of a sacrifice that he could not burden her with any further needs.

One ally among the adults was all Jason wanted. A parent willing to believe and be involved. A teacher that noticed the oddities at Haven High. Someone.

Jason frowned and tried to concentrate on completing his chores.

Richie thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket and wandered down the street, following the far edge of the road near the greenbelt. His sneakers scuffed against the gravel and dead weeds. His fingers curled about the baseball in his pocket, squeezing it as if in need to convince himself it was still there.

Around the bend, the Sovert house came into view. He picked the driest spot he could see and crossed the ditch that ran along the side of the road. He picked his way among the pines, glancing towards the road and keeping the Sovert house in sight. He muttered a curse. This was the fifth time he had made this circuit, and he was getting bored.

The underbrush crinkled under his feet, and small patches of snow bore evidence of his previous patrols. He pulled out the baseball and tossed it in the air. His gaze alternated between watching the Sovert house and gazing at the baseball as it rose and fell.

The memory of his last brush with the Darkness burned bright in his mind. He still didn't understand how his father had helped protect him as the Darkness had believed. His father had never stood against it; when things got tough, he left.

He didn't have a choice, you fucktard.

Richie frowned and came to a stop. He clenched his teeth and kicked at a small sapling until its thin trunk splintered.

He was tired of the voice in his head. It sounded like his own, but it did not feel like his own. He had assumed it was his conscience, but such a thing could be silenced when he desired. This voice never quieted when he wished it.

"Yeah, fine, he didn't have a choice," Richie muttered.

Richie's eyes snapped up when he heard a car engine approaching from around the corner of the intersection. He jammed the ball into his pocket and rushed towards the road, hiding behind a tree near the edge. He let out a sigh when he saw Cassie's limo pull up.

He watched as Melinda and Heather jogged from the door to the limo. Heather paused beside it and turned her head from side to side.

Richie stepped out from behind the tree and waved his arm. Heather's gaze stopped on him for a moment before she ducked into the limo. Richie watched the limo pull away until he could no longer see it through the trees.

"Coulda at least noticed I was here," Richie muttered.

Their mother was probably watching her. Nice way to give yourself away, asshole.

Richie turned away. He figured he had at least an hour before they would be back.

He climbed back up onto the shoulder after he was out of sight of the Sovert house. He frowned as he looked upon his own house. He wished he could go someplace else to live. The Darkness would not stop trying to get to him through his mother. He spurned her, but sometimes he wanted to give in just to get her off his back.

Yeah, right, you just want the easy pussy and those big tits.

"So what if I do?" Richie called out. He slapped the baseball into his other hand. "Maybe if it wants to waste its time with me, I wanna get something out of it." He repeated tossing the ball into his other hand, harder each time. "I deserve something for putting up with this shit." His palm stung with the last toss. He curled his fingers around it and cursed. "And now I'm talking to myself like some fucking homeless guy."

Richie was about to cross the street when his eye caught the large rock that sat at the edge of the road.

His hands clenched as he stared at it yet again. He could see himself sitting upon it, playing with the little stray, arguing with Melinda over what the dog's name was that week.

Richie's throat tightened. "Yeah, I'm too fucking young to start thinking about the good ol' days.

Yet he wondered if that's what he needed. He missed the dog, even if he did not want to admit it. Seeing the little stray again would be a nice distraction. Even a younger Melinda arguing with him would be a treat.

He approached the rock and dropped the baseball into his pocket as he sat down. Like a light switch being turned off, everything around him went dark.

... shouldn't be here, lawyer said I could get in trouble, but I don't care, I have ...

Richie yelped and bolted to his feet. The full light of day dazzled his eyes. He spun around and stared at the boulder, his heart hammering.

"D-dad?" he called out in a small voice.

His fingers curled about the ball again. It was impossible. It could not have been his father.

He crept towards the rock and crouched near it. After a long moment of hesitation, he alighted his hand upon it.

Darkness swallowed him. Crickets chirped in late summer chorus, and flickers of light dotted the houses across the street. A figure stirred on the rock, no more than a vague shadow outlined against a moonless night sky. But there was no mistaking the presence.

Richie swallowed and found his throat had closed up. He pulled himself up until he was perched on the edge of the rock. He slid his trembling hand towards his father.

So used to touching the memories of the deceased, he steeled himself for the icy chill and stench of death. As his hand passed through his father's image, he was instead suffused with gentle warmth.

... had to see it one last time. Gotta go far away. Dammit to hell. It's driving me away, away from my son ...

Richie yanked his hand back. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, until he realized he was holding back a sob. He wiped his eyes with quick, jerky movements and clenched his teeth. He would not cry for his father, the man that had abandoned his family.

Richie thrust his hand forward.

... at night. At least I don't have to see it now. I don't have to see it on her. At least I can tell Richie's okay. He better STAY okay. Fuck, that kid frustrates the shit out of me. Got his head screwed on straight, but doesn't have enough common sense ...

Richie's mouth dropped open. I don't have to see it on her. He knew. He could see the Aura. He had figured it out, and he still ran away.

Richie clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt and kept his now shaking hand inside the vision.

I can't do this anymore. Hope he'll stay safe. Wish I could get into that kid's fucking head and knock some sense into it. Get's too distracted by things he THINKS he wants. Like that freaking expensive baseball bat Sandy got him. He used it twice and decided he didn't want it. If he had just freaking stopped to THINK he'd know it wasn't the right balance for ...

Richie remembered that. He had coveted that bat for so long, only to discover that it sent his hitting game into the toilet. But that had not happened until ...

His father sighed and moved. Richie moved with him, and a blue light suddenly appeared on his father's wrist from the back-light on his digital watch.

I have to go. I've been here long enough. Just gotta hope he'll pull through until he can figure it out himself. Kid's smarter than his teachers give him credit for.

Richie wasn't listening. He was staring at the watch, even after the glow had faded. It was not the time that had riveted him but the date. 1998. Three years after the divorce.

Three years after his father had "abandoned" them.

His father stood. The man thrust his hands into his pockets and looked one last time at the house, then walked away along the edge of the road.

Richie blinked when full daylight returned. He squinted and shaded his eyes, but his father had vanished back into the past.

Richie wanted to touch the rock again. He wanted to keep doing it over and over, just to stare at his father and keep that connection alive. For those brief moments it had been as if his father had never left, if he had strolled away from the rock just to head down to the store. Part of him thought that if he waited long enough, he would see his father appear once more approaching along the road as if the past ten years had never happened.

But he had no need for that. Everything came together in perfect, sharp clarity. He saw the connection that the Darkness had seen first, and it had been staring Richie in the face all along: the voice in his head that was both his and not his; the voice with his father's lack of reluctance to call him out on his faults; the voice with his own hostile attitude and acerbic wit.

Yeah, finally figured it out, huh? came the thought in Richie's head. Took you long enough, dummy.

Richie smiled.

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