Gus heard the loud noise, jolting him awake, and he quickly felt around for his glasses, shoving them haphazardly on his face as he looked around the room in the darkness for anything that might've made the sound. He cautiously got out of bed, grabbed the baseball bat he kept beside his bed and slowly headed out into the hall of his apartment. It was still dark, but he could hear something rooting around in his kitchen. Gus swallowed nervously, his hands gripping the bat neck tighter as he continued further in, and when he finally reached the living room a light shot on and he was face to face with nobody other than Bea, both of them screaming as he dropped the bat.

"My god!" Bea said, one hand holding a bowl with some oatmeal in it and the other hand to her chest, "you scared the shit out of me, Gus!"

"...you...you woke me up, and I...I thought..." Gus said, starting to hyperventilate. Bea set her oatmeal down on the coffee table and, taking Gus's arm, lead him over to the couch where they sat down side by side. Gus pushed his head against her chest and she softly stroked his hair; after a few moments, near tears, he whispered, "...i thought you were him."

"He's dead," Bea said, "okay? I'm sorry, I just...I closed a cabinet harder than I meant to, that was all it was. I just got home from practice for the faire and it ran way late and then some people wanted to stay behind and gamble a little and, I'm...I'm sorry."

Gus couldn't hold back, and he started to cry.

"You need to talk to someone," Bea said, "like, a professional, not just me. Because this is getting worse every day. I don't think either of us ever really processed it when it happened, but now it's eating at you, and you need to do something about it before you lose it completely. You almost smashed my face in with a bat."

Bea pulled away as Gus fell on his side on the couch, sobbing. He knew she was right. They hadn't processed what had happened with Jeremy that night in the apartment, the night of Shane's death, likely because they were far too wrapped up in helping Melanie grieve for her brother. But now...now she was out of the mental hospital, she was doing well, and now was the time they could help themselves. But he was scared to do that, because he didn't know what it entailed. Bea sighed and, picking her oatmeal back off the coffee table and eating a little bit, they sat there in the living room together, not saying a word. There was a sort of unspoken understanding between them at this point, she felt, that they shouldn't rely entirely on one another for everything, especially emotional support, and much as she loved him she also knew he needed to take care of himself. After a few minutes, Bea reached out and put her hand on his leg.

"I'll go with you, if you're scared," she said, "We can go see Mel's therapist. I'm sure she's easy going."

Gus didn't respond. He just buried his face further into the couch pillow, sobbing harder. He didn't want to admit something was wrong. He just wanted to go back to how things had been, before the attack, but he knew that wasn't possible. He knew she was right, and he had to do something. He just wasn't ready for the longest time to face that fact, and was scared he never would be.

"It's okay," Bea whispered, patting his leg with her hand as she continued to eat oatmeal with the other hand wrapped around the spoon, "it'll be okay. Don't worry. Remember, you're with the Black Knight, nothing can hurt you."

That, at least, got him to crack a brief smile. She always did know how to cheer him up.

                                                                                                       ***

"What is the point of iced coffee?" Emma asked as she and Melanie sat in the small cafe attached to the library where Mel was doing her weekly readings; Emma turned the cup around in her hand, looking at it from all angles, "I mean, what is the point of making something intended to be hot cold? It's like hot chocolate ice cream. I don't think those people know what hot chocolate actually is if they're making ice cream of it."

"You're way too peeved by very specific things," Mel said, making Emma chuckle. They heard a chair being pulled across the floor beside them and turned to see Laura, the woman who had approached Melanie last week, seating herself at the table with them. Emma did her best to ignore the intrusion, instead continuing to read her magazine.

"Are you a wedding planner?" Laura asked politely, and Emma smiled, chuckling.

"No, no, I'm getting married in a few months and I'm just making sure we have everything I wanted," Emma replied, "sometimes I look through these for inspiration, not necessarily for something specific."

"That's so exciting," Laura said, "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Emma remarked, smiling politely as she sipped her coffee, "yeah, it's been a long time coming."

Laura then turned her attention to Melanie, who was in the middle of eating a poppyseed muffin she'd bought in the same place they were right now, where Emma had gotten her coffee. Try as she might, Melanie simply couldn't shake an uneasy feeling that this woman put within her heart. Maybe it was because of what had happened with Lisa, but Mel had become increasingly paranoid of being approached by strange women.

"I was just curious, and forgive me if this isn't the appropriate time or place to ask, but," Laura said, shifting nervously in her chair, clearing her throat, "...do you ever babysit?"

That...certainly wasn't what either Emma or Melanie had expected to hear.

"Um," Mel said, finishing a bit of muffin and swallowing, "uh...I...I never really have, no, but I wouldn't be against it, why?"

"Because my daughter feels comfortable with you," Laura said, "and I have a lot of appointments I can't afford to miss and the last few babysitters we've had have been very...I won't say mean but...more like...non understanding of her and her issues. But you seem to be. You seem like a genuinely nice person, and I was just curious if you would ever be interested in doing that for us? You seem so good with children-"

"Which is ironic sondering I'm the teacher," Emma mumbled, making Mel smirk.

"-but," Laura continued, "my daughter seems to like being around you and she feels comfortable being around you and that comfort isn't something we've had a lot of luck finding in recent times with recent sitters. I completely understand if you say no, or...or is this is a totally bizarre request, I just...I need to know she's well taken care of when I'm not around, and lately I've been having to be not around more and more."

After an awkwardly silent few minutes, Mel finally nodded, picking away at her muffin.

"Yeah," she said softly, "Actually, I wouldn't mind. It could...it could be good. You're right, she's already got enough problems, she doesn't need a nasty adult on top of that, and I sure as hell am not mean, so. Yes, I wouldn't mind at all. If you guys are going to be around after storytime today, maybe come and talk to me again and we can exchange information and set things up?"

"That would be super!" Laura said, sounding genuinely excited, "oh thank you so so much! She's going to be so happy!"

Laura stood up and hugged Mel, surprising both her and Emma, before turning around and rushing off, presumably to tell her daughter. Mel readjusted herself in her chair and continued to eat her muffin as Emma sipped her coffee and shut her bridal magazine.

"Okay we're just gonna ignore how fuckin' weird that was?" she asked.

"I don't think it's weird at all, actually," Mel said, thinking about her father and smiling, "I like adults who only want the best for their children."

                                                                                                           ***

"So," Leah said, jotting something down on her clipboard as she crossed her legs, "Mel talked to me extensively about that evening, but...you two were also involved, and I'm a little surprised it's taken you this long to reach out and discuss it. I'm happy you are though, and I hope I can help. What exactly is going on?"

Bea and Gus were seated on the same couch together, but Gus was looking at his feet, unable to speak, so Bea sighed and did the talking.

"Basically he's falling apart," she said, "and I am not saying this in the sense that I'm disappointed with him because of it, I'm saying it in the sense that I want to help him get better. He doesn't deserve to suffer like this, and I don't deserve to get hit in the face with a baseball bat."

A quiet pause covered the room as Bea shifted on the couch and groaned.

"Okay, that was worded badly, he hasn't done that, but he could. Just because of paranoia. He's not...he doesn't hit me, or, at least, not outside of when I want him to, and, and I'm just gonna stop talking now oh my god," Bea said, making Leah genuinely crack up, which put them all at ease.

"A lot of times," Leah said after finally regaining her composure, "when people come through a traumatic experience, there are two roads to take, and sadly, more often than not, they choose the road of denial instead of acceptance. And it's understandable why that would be, because acceptance means facing it, and that's uncomfortable. I get why people do that. And sometimes that's the right choice in the moment, even. I'm willing to acknowledge that not everyone has the capacity to deal with things immediately after they happen. But this has been...what...half a year now? And you guys are still reeling. So yeah, coming to get help was the right choice to make now. But please don't feel bad for taking this long."

"See, you did the right thing for yourself in the moment," Bea said softly, reaching over and rubbing Gus's back. He still hadn't said a single thing nor had he moved a muscle the entire time they were there; Bea looked back at Leah and asked, "so what can we do to ensure Gus comes through this PTSD as easily as possible?"

"There's no easy way to-" Leah started but Gus interrupted them. However, he had spoken so lowly, that nobody had understood what he'd said, so Bea leaned in and asked him to repeat himself. Gus finally looked up at her, his face stained with tears, and he spoke again.

"It wasn't about me," he said, "...I'm not scared for me. I'm scared for you."

This admittance took Bea completely by surprise. She started to laugh nervously, only because when facing strange statements, that was her primary reaction.

"You...you're scared for ME?" she asked, "I'm the one who knows how to fight, why would you be-"

"Because it could've been you. He could've shot you," Gus said, wiping his face on his flannel shirt sleeve, sniffling, "he could've...he could've so easily...he even threatened to. I don't ever wanna see you hurt. I'm not scared for myself. I'm scared for you. I don't want you to get hurt or die. I want you in my life."

Bea, honestly, couldn't believe what she was hearing. Gus had been emotional from time to time, he'd opened up about some pretty deep stuff, specifically in regards to his alcoholism and the spiral of his marriage, but this was something on an entirely different level and she didn't really know precisely how to react to it. After a few moments of awkward silence, she cleared her throat and put both hands on his back, turning to face him entirely now.

"Gus, you never have to worry about me, okay? I'm fine. I'll always be fine. That's incredibly sweet of you, but trust me, I'm the one with more longevity between the two of us, so don't worry about me. I know you can't help but do it, but please, you wanna protect me? Then get through this trauma, process it and let's move on together, alright?" Bea whispered, one hand running up to his face, holding his cheek in her palm and smiling warmly at him as she added, "I love you, and I don't wanna see YOU in pain anymore, because you might unintentionally cause ME pain and frankly I'm too pretty for a broken nose."

Gus laughed, making Bea feel a little better. He sat upright more and reached out, hugging her, pulling her against himself and petting her hair. This whole time, his fear hadn't been for his own safety, it had been because she was scared she might get hurt, and that surprised Bea more than anything else. He had a point too. Jeremy had intended to shoot her that night, had even outright threatened to do so, and Gus had instead put his own life on the line for her, which she was eternally grateful for, especially since he can't fight for shit and she could.

Bea leaned closer, her lips against his ear, and whispered, "you're not strong because you defended me, you're strong because you're healing."

Gus clung even tighter to her as these words left her lips. For the longest time, he always felt like he had to be the stronger one, and now...now he was happy to rest easy, knowing the Black Knight would always have his back. He was starting to see the appeal Melanie had once discussed in regards to having a kingdom at your disposal.

                                                                                                            ***

"There's not a whole lot of rules," Laura said as she led Melanie through the house while she gathered her things before going out; she continued as they entered the hallway, "obviously she can't be up past 10pm, can't have dessert for dinner, the typical stuff, but otherwise there's not really much. Right now she's in her bedroom looking at some of this weeks storybooks, doing visual comprehension study."

"What is that?" Mel asked as they stopped at the bathroom so Laura could check her makeup.

"It's something they do for special needs children who have trouble following things," she said, "it's...it's kind of like...storyboarding for the brain, I guess. They read these picturebooks because they can't follow text to explain a scene, you know? Like, say or I read a book, we would be able to follow it and see it in our minds eye, but she can't do that, she has to SEE it, you know what I mean? So this helps her get better at that and maybe, one day, read a real book."

Melanie nodded, smiling as Laura checked and reapplied her eyeliner. Melanie turned around and saw the photos hanging on the wall of the hallway.

"Where's her father?" she asked, "sorry, maybe that's too personal, I just-"

"No no, you're fine," Laura said, still reapplying, "um, there actually IS no father. I never got married, I just got pregnant. Always wanted a kid, never a husband, you know? A marriage is far too inconvenient to child rearing."

Melanie genuinely laughed at this, which made Laura herself laugh a little.

"Anyway, my parents have both passed away," she continued, "so I'm all Katie has. That's why finding preferred sitters is so important. If there's one thing I don't want her to ever feel it's uncomfortable, you know? She gets enough of that from day to day life that isn't designed for her."

"You're a good mom," Melanie said, smiling as she looked at more photos. Photos of Laura and Katie on vacation at a theme park, birthdays, first days of school. But there was one photo that drew Melanie in more than the others, and that was the one of Katie sitting alone on a bench in a park somewhere, staring off at nothing while - presumably - her mother snapped the photo in question.

"I do try my damndest," Laura said, "Okay, so I won't be too late, and she'll let you know when she needs something. She has certain cues for things like bathroom or hungry. Are you sure you won't be-"

"I promise, I'll be fine," Melanie said, "please, just go and have a nice time. Or, as nice a time as one can have at an unavoidable appointment."

With that, Melanie saw Laura out the door before looking back down the hall. She walked slowly down it and pushed the door to Katie's bedroom open, only to find her wrapped in a big quilt on her bed, looking at storybooks, exactly as her mother had said she was doing. Mel smiled and shut the door silently, dipping back out into the living room where she seated herself on the couch. She was glad she'd listened to Laura instead of shrugging her off, and she really meant what she'd said about her being a good mom.

If there was anyone who knew a thing or two about having a good mom, it was Melanie, because her mother, Karen had been the best, especially in the face of adversity.

                                                                                                        ***

Karen Irres was sitting on her couch, sipping some tea with the TV on mute as she waited for her antiques show to come back on. She sighed, blew on her tea and took another sip. After that she reached into the bowl of mixed nuts she'd placed beside her on the couch and grabbed a handful, eating them carefully. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her antiques show came back on and Karen grabbed the remote, her thumb over the "mute" button, ready to press it just as the landline beside the couch rang. Karen groaned and, setting the remote back down, reached over and answered the phone, lifting the receiver to her face.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Is this Karen Irres?" a woman asked.

"Yes, this is she, who's asking?" Karen asked, taking another long sip of tea, unprepared for the answer.

"You don't know me, and I'm so sorry to do this this way, but...my name is Rebecca, and..."

A pause as Becca took a deep breath and finally spoke again.

"...I was married to your son, and we need to talk."

Karen never did get to finish watching her show that night.

"What time is it?" Melanie asked loudly, brightly, as all the kids threw their hands up in the air and shouted back, "Storytme!" After which she applauded them, all laughing together.

This had been what Melanie had been doing for the past few months. She'd been going to the local library and, in full princess garb, been reading to little kids during the afternoons. In some small ways, she felt like she was emulating her father, but in a healthier sense, perhaps. And the kids seemed to love it. They loved the stories, sure, but they especially loved her. Melanie had a warmth to her that none of the other storytellers who volunteered seemed to have, and they were drawn to her as a result. A lot of the girls, and some boys too, loved her costume and constantly asked her questions about being a princess, which she happily humored them by answering.

On this particular afternoon, Emma was standing with Bea in the fiction section nearby, each one searching the shelves - albeit halfheartedly - as they waited for Melanie to be done with her gig for the day. Gus was at an AA meeting, while Darren was at the mechanic shop, so it was, in essence, a girls day out, and they appreciated it.

"Feels like we don't spend much time together," Bea said, sipping her tea as she pulled another book from the shelf with her fingertips before sliding it back in line.

"We really don't, and you'd think we would," Emma said, pulling a book from the shelf and looking at the back, adding, "I mean, girls are supposed to have other girls for friends, right? Yet we all kinda spend most of our time with guys. That's weird, right?"

"Super weird," Bea said, "and it's not like the guys we even know are all that cool."

Emma laughed and nodded, now leafing through the pages of the book while Bea sighed and leaned against the shelf, glancing around the corner at Melanie, who was telling this particular story very animatedly.

"You think this is good for her?" Bea asked quietly, causing Emma to look up.

"Yeah, yes, I do. She's playing pretend, before she wasn't, that's the key difference," Emma said, "I think creating this persona as a fictional thing is the best thing she could've done to separate fantasy from reality. You know, a lot of kids who go through serious trauma wind up creating a sort of fantasy for themselves to protect their brains from said trauma. It's not unusual. It IS unusual to take it to the extremes she took it, perhaps, but clearly severe mental illness runs in her family, so."

Bea nodded, taking another long sip through her straw and sighing.

"Well, I'm just happy she's doing something good, and not just for her sake but look at those kids, they love her," Bea said.

"She had this same situation when she helped me at the school. Kids just love Mel for some reason," Emma said, the two of them now coming around the corner of the shelf, watching Melanie read to the children; Emma continued, "she has this youthful playfulness that I think attracts them to her, and makes them feel safe and comfortable. It's a great thing to see."

Bea nodded, thinking about herself and Gus. Were children in their future? Hell, was there a future in their future? She and Gus had always had a very fly by night relationship. Sure they cared about one another, but...but in the end...they never made any kind of plans. Part of that was on Gus, she thought. After what had happened with his ex-wife, he was likely scared to commit to something that could so easily be broken, and she understood this. Having grown up in a broken home herself, Bea totally got why he might be hesitant to make any sort of attachment to a future of some sort, especially with another person. But...but watching Emma prepare for her wedding and watching Mel be good with kids, it made her feel like the odd one out. She hated being the odd one out. That's why she liked being the Black Knight, because everyone feared and respected her.

She liked that level of control, which she didn't seem to have anywhere else in her life.

                                                                                                        ***

Becca wiped her eyes and tried to stifle her tears anymore, her lip quivering from the feelings. She looked around the room, then finally her eyes landed on her therapist once more, and she smiled weakly. Her therapist didn't prod, didn't push, she just sat there and waited for Becca to speak again. After a few minutes, Becca finally felt like she could once more talk.

"It's been months, but...god...it's hard for me to imagine he's gone even still," she said softly, looking down at her feet, "I just...I keep expecting him to walk through the door, you know? To just...show up, like he used to do. It's a little impossible for me to conceptualize the emptiness his lack of presence creates in our home."

"And how is Angie holding up?" her therapist, Amanda, asked, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs.

"She's...she's not really talking much," Becca said, shrugging, "I don't know."

"It's completely understandable - normal, even expected - for you to be unable to grapple with this loss, especially in the first year. And especially in the first few months. Just like it's completely understandable for Angie to withdraw. She's young, she lost her father. Sure, he might not have always been there, but she knew him, and she loved him, and that kind of grief, it can be insurmountable for a child. Just give her time, let her come to you."

"That's what I'm doing," Becca said, leaning over and grabbing more tissues from the box on the side table by the couch before adding, "but it's hard, it hurts to watch your child hurting and not being able to do more to take that pain away, you know? I know he had a sister...I've debated going to find her, if only to give Angie a connection to someone related to her father, but, ugh..."

"What?" Amanda asked.

"I don't know, I know his family was really messed up, and the few things he told me about his sister...she was apparently very unstable, so while I want to give Angie that comfort, I also don't want to surround her with something that isn't healthy. It's all so complicated," Becca said, wiping at her eyes again, tears rolling down her cheeks. After a few minutes she sighed and shook her head, looking towards the window, listening to the gentle rain landing on the glass panes and said quietly, "...I just want him back."

"I know," Amanda said softly, "I'm so sorry. What happened is...just...awful. At least with an illness you're given a warning, you know? But accidents such as what happened to Shane? Yeah, those are sudden, and shocking, and hard to recover from. But, as a professional, let me say you're doing a wonderful job keeping not just yourself but also your daughter together, and that's something you should be proud of. Lord knows he would be proud of you."

Becca smiled, blushing and nodding. It's true, Shane had always reminded Rebecca of how strong she was, and she was finally starting to see it for herself. She thought back to Shane's sister again, and bit her lip. She'd never even seen a picture of her before. Still, maybe the awkwardness would be worth it, and who knows, maybe she'd gotten better since Shane had talked about her.

Anything is possible, after all. Rebecca had never expected to find herself in therapy, so maybe his sister had done the same. Grief can make people do crazy things.

                                                                                                           ***

Melanie was packing up her things, getting ready to leave with Emma. Bea had left a little earlier, meeting Gus at a restaurant for dinner - a dinner which Melanie was meant to join them at in a bit - but she had to do some cleanup here first, and of course check in with the librarian to log her hours. Emma, standing nearby and drinking her iced coffee, smiled as she watched Mel pack. After a few minutes, Mel looked up at Emma and smiled back, chuckling.

"What?" she asked, pushing her bangs from her eyes and Emma shrugged.

"Just cool, seeing you like this," Emma said, "you've come so far since we met, and it's...it's nice. It's good."

"Yeah, well," Mel replied, shrugging, "a lot of that was against my will, not that I'm not thankful for it."

Just then a young woman approached and tapped Melanie on the shoulder. Melanie stood back up, leaving her backpack half zipped.

"Yes?" she asked.

"My name is Laura Stevenson," the woman said, holding her hand out for Mel to shake, which she did; Laura continued, "um, my daughter, Katie, she loved your story today."

"Well, thank you, that's very nice to know!" Melanie said, "You know, Katie is free to tell me herself, she doesn't have to be shy!"

"Hah, well, Katie would like to do that, but she...she can't really communicate," Laura said, looking over her shoulder at a girl who looked to be about 11, sitting and looking at a picture book, clearly engrossed in it; Melanie joined Laura in watching this, and quickly saw something was off about the situation, only clarified seconds later as Laura continued saying, "she's mentally handicapped, she can't really speak. But she...she's capable of sort of insinuating to me when she's happy, and she was very happy with what you did today. And she loves your crown so much."

"Really?" Melanie asked, pulling it off her head and admiring it in her hands, smiling, "it was given to me by my father."

"I just wanted to thank you for doing what you're doing, mostly because she can't, and...and she really loves coming here and listening. You're the only storyteller she wants to see," Laura said, her voice cracking, and Melanie suddenly had a nervous feeling gnawing at her stomach. After another moment, Laura said her goodbye, took Katie to check out some picturebooks and then exited the library, leaving Mel and Emma there, somewhat bewildered.

"That was...weird, right?" Melanie asked.

"Very weird," Emma said, "but see, what you're doing is good, you're making a difference."

"Yeah, I...I guess," Mel said as she knelt down and finished zipping her backpack. She had packed a change of clothes in her backpack, and would change in the car on the way to the restaurant. Emma was dropping her off before heading home herself, after all. But for the rest of the early evening, whether in the car getting changed or finally at dinner with Gus and Bea, Melanie couldn't shake this uneasy feeling Laura had left her with.

Maybe some dinner would help.

                                                                                                        ***

"That's SO strange," Bea said, biting into a pork bun and then continuing to speak while chewing, "like...on one hand it's nice to be told that what you're doing is appreciated, but god, that had to feel awkward."

"She just seemed so anxious," Mel said, stabbing some pepper chicken with her fork and eating a few pieces before continuing, "like she was scared of approaching me or something, or didn't know what she was saying. I don't know, the whole vibe was off."

"Maybe she likes you and she's just using her daughter as an excuse to talk to you," Gus said, making Bea and Mel glare at him; he just shrugged and said, "look, I'm just trying to offer an explanation! I didn't say it was true, I'm just, you know what, I'll shut up."

"Good," they replied in unison.

Bea picked up her soda and took a long drink, smacking her lips before putting her chopsticks down on the plate in front of her and exhaled.

"So...so she has a mentally handicapped daughter who can't speak, but somehow her mother knows she prefers you as the storyteller at the library compared to all the others? I mean, parents - especially parents of children with intellectual disabilities and I know this because I see a lot of them at the faire - have to learn how to interact with their child on a level that makes sense to the child. Ask Emma, she'll tell you the same thing, she's a teacher after all. Like, okay, so she's capable of knowing how she feels, and she just wanted to share that good word with you, make you feel good about what it is you do, you know? It's weird, but I don't think there's any strange intention behind it. Certainly not a romantic one," she finished, looking at Gus who shrugged again.

"I'm sorry! God, I'll just keep my obviously correct opinions to myself from now on," he said, making Bea laugh as she reached over and rubbed his back. Melanie pulled her legs up into the booth and sat cross legged, picking up an egg roll and biting into it, chewing for a few minutes before swallowing and sighing.

"If she comes by again next week, I'm going to talk to her again," Melanie said, "I don't know why, but...I feel like she talked to me more for her own sake than her daughters. Though, I agree, not because of why Gus thinks. But she obviously needed to talk to me."

"You know," Gus said, leaning back in the booth, "It was just an idea, you don't have to make fun of me for it."

"Yes we do, sweetheart," Bea said, rubbing his arm, "it's the law."

                                                                                                         ***

That evening, Rebecca made dinner and went to go get Angie from her bedroom. As she approached the bedroom door in the hall, she could hear Angie talking to herself, and she stopped outside the door, just listening, enjoying hearing Angie playing again. She waited a few minutes, then finally opened the door, only to find Angie sitting on her bed, her stuffed animals sitting in front of her on the floor. Angie was dressed in a sparkly dress they'd bought her for a daddy daughter she'd been in a few years before, and had glitter in her hair.

"Sweetheart, what did you do to your hair??" Rebecca asked, entering the room, "You're going to have to take a bath now and I'm going to have to make sure to get all this out before school tomorrow."

"A princess is supposed to be pretty!" Angie said, "I don't have a crown, so I had to do something."

"Well," Rebecca said, sitting on the bed beside Angie and rubbing the back of her neck, laughing silently at all the glitter on her, "dinner is ready, and a princess also needs a good meal if she's going to be a good ruler. Can't think clearly on an empty stomach!"

Angie nodded, kicking her legs before finally speaking, her voice barely audible.

"I want him to come home," she said, and Rebecca felt her heart break a little.

"I know princess, I do too," she replied quietly, pressing her lips to her daughters glitter covered head, "I do too."

It wasn't like Angie didn't understand. If nothing else, she understood all too well. Her father was dead, he'd been involved in an accident, but he'd died a hero, saving someone. But that didn't make it any easier for her to swallow. She missed him so very much, and she didn't know how to move past that. She was grateful to have her mom, but now she was the only one in her class who didn't have both parents, and this made her somewhat of an oddity around her peers. Sometimes they asked her questions about him, specifically about how he'd died, but she hated answering them, and eventually she stopped responding to their inquiries altogether.

"Come on," Becca said, patting Angies shoulder, "let's have some dinner."

Angie nodded, climbing off the bed and following her mom out of the room and to the kitchen. As they seated themselves at the table - after Becca had already plated everything - they both couldn't help but notice that Shane's chair was empty. And it'd been empty before. In fact, it'd been empty a good portion of Angie's life. But the difference was that before, there was the chance it wouldn't be sometime soon. Now it'd always be empty. Angie put her fork down, then started sobbing, and Becca got up and pulled her chair to her daughters side, hugging her and petting her hair, just letting her cry. Before, there was Shane. Before, there was daddy.

Now...

...now there was just a chair.

It was raining, but thankfully Angie's teacher had an umbrella.

Standing outside the school, holding Angelica's hand, the two waited for Angie's mom to pull up to get her daughter. It wasn't pouring, but it was wet enough for Angie to be wearing galoshes and a little rain slicker over her clothes. Her teacher checked her watch, and rolled her eyes. Angie's mother, Rebecca, was almost always late, but at least this time she had a reasonable explanation. The rain always screwed with traffic, and so it was likely this one wasn't her fault. After a bit, she finally saw Becca's car pulling up as it slowed to a stop and the passenger side door opened. Angie's teacher helped her climb inside and then shut the door as she looked through the window at Becca.

"I'm so sorry," Becca said, "thank you for waiting with her, you're an absolute dream."

"It's okay, I don't mind, I just wanna make sure everyone gets home safe," she replied, waving, "Have a good weekend."

The car lurched forward and Becca pulled away, heading back onto the road as Angie buckled herself in. For a little bit, they just drove towards home, neither one saying a thing. As the car came to a stop at a red light, Angie looked out the window at the rain dripping off the trees leaves and smiled. She liked it when it rained. She finally looked back at her mom, who smiled warmly at her.

"He's coming you know," she said.

"He is?"

"Mhm," Becca said, tapping her nails on the steering wheel, "He should be here soon. He was leaving a day ago, so he should be here anytime now. He's bringing you chocolate."

Angie smiled. She loved chocolate, and she loved seeing her father.

                                                                                                  ***

"Well," Leah said, sitting with Melanie in her office, "I think it's safe to say you're ready."

"Is it safe to say that?" Mel asked.

"Absolutely!" Leah said, chuckling, "You've shown remarkable growth and improvement, and as long as you stay on your medication, everything should stay the same, or improve. I'll schedule you for a weekly appointment, if you'd like, but I don't think you need weekly honestly. I'd say monthly would be better for you, but it's up to you."

"I like weekly," Melanie said.

"Weekly it is then," Leah said, jotting it down on her notepad as the door to her office opened, and they both looked at the door to see Emma entering, quietly apologizing as she took a seat beside Melanie on the couch. Leah looked back up at Melanie, capped her pen and said, "Congratulations, Melanie, you can go home."

Melanie wanted to cry. She never expected this day to come. She was going to be able to see her apartment again, to see Gus every day again, to do whatever she wanted, wear whatever she wanted. She wasn't 'cured', she knew that much, but she was as close to 'cured' as someone like her could get, and god damn if she wasn't proud of herself.

"You her ride?" Leah asked Emma, who nodded.

"Yeah," Emma said, "We're meeting with some friends for lunch to celebrate her release, and I'm who she asked to get her."

Just then Emma's cell rang, so she pulled it from her purse and answered it. It was Darren. She smiled as she exited the room, explaining how she was getting Melanie right now. After she'd left the room, Melanie stood up and stretched, as Leah walked to a small safe in her office and started turning the lock.

"I have something for you," Leah said, opening the door to the safe and reaching inside, pulling out a crown. She stood back up and turned to face Mel, holding it out to her, adding, "remember? You left this in my care, and I said I'd hold onto it until you got back."

"...my...my crown," Melanie said, staring at it blankly.

"Don't take it if you think it's going to hurt you, obviously, but I figured you'd want it, especially after...well...you know."

Melanie took the crown and smiled, her eyes wet with tears. She then threw her arms around Leah, hugging her firmly, making Leah laugh.

"I couldn't have done this without you, thank you," she said softly.

"It was my pleasure, Melanie," Leah replied.

After leaving Leah's office, Emma gathered Mel's bags that she'd packed the night before, and carried them out to her car while Mel searched around her room for anything else she might've left. As she stood in her room, she heard some feet approach the door and assumed Emma was back, but when she turned, she saw Amelia standing there, looking at her shoes. Mel walked towards the door, but Amelia wouldn't look up.

"You're getting out?" Amelia asked quietly.

"Mhm, leaving any minute now. I was going to stop by and see you before I went, so I'm glad you-"

"I made you this," Amelia said, holding out a small picture book, which Melanie took and looked at, before looking back at Amelia.

"You can come," Melanie said, "You're not stuck here. You can come with me."

"...I like it here," Amelia said, "It's safe in here."

"It can be safe out there too, if you have the right people," Melanie said, "let me be the right person."

Amelia blushed, but shook her head. Mel felt her heart drop, but she knew she couldn't push her to do something she didn't feel comfortable doing. This was where she lived, and who was Melanie to make her leave her home? Melanie ran her hand up to Amelia's face, making her finally look up, their eyes catching one another. Melanie smiled, then leaned in and kissed her for what felt like an eternity. After it ended, she rested her forehead on Amelia's, both their eyes shut, and she smiled.

"I'll come back for you," she whispered.

Melanie joined Emma in the car a few minutes later, and together they drove towards a nearby BBQ place, where they were to meet Gus and Bea and Darren. Sitting in the car, watching the mental home get smaller in the distance, Melanie wanted to cry. All her life she'd been terrified of winding up in a place like that, and now she was terrified of leaving it behind. She felt Emma put a hand on her thigh, and she smiled, resting her hand on Emma's. At least she had her friends.

After all, what's a princess without her loyal subjects?

                                                                                                    ***

It had been weeks, and no phone call, no arrival, no chocolates. Angie was heartbroken, and Rebecca was furious, though she didn't let Angie see this. She kept trying to call, but she only ever got voicemail, and eventually, even the phone was shut off. Now she had no way of reaching him. How could this happen? How could he just vanish like this, without ever saying a word?

Then, one morning, when preparing to drive Angie to school, Rebecca was approached by a cop in the lot of the apartment complex. The windows were up, so Angie couldn't hear anything, but she saw her mother talking to the cop momentarily, before cupping her mouth with her hands and screaming before dropping to her knees. She watched the cop kneel and console her mother, but she didn't have any understanding as to what was going on.

After a few minutes, Rebecca climbed into the car and started it, trying her best not to cry anymore.

"What's wrong?" Angie asked.

"...nothing's wrong, baby, let's go to school," Rebecca said.

This news would have to be delivered delicately, Rebecca thought as she turned the key in the ignition, hearing the car roar to life. After all, how do you break it to a little girl that her father is dead? The things that kind of loss could do to a child, she thought.

                                                                                                  ***

"She's got you beat, dude, give it up," Gus said as he watched Bea and Darren have a rib eating contest while waiting for Emma and Melanie to arrive. They were seated at a long table by a window in the back, and he was nothing if not impressed by Bea's abilities to scarf down food.

"This is bullshit," Darren said, tossing a bone down on his plate, "she's younger than me, she's got a better metabolism."

"Dude we're the same age," Bea said.

"Really?"

"Yeah huh," Bea replied, nodding, setting her own bone down now and grinning, "I can't help it if I'm a glutton."

"You keep showing me new skills and I keep finding each one more impressive than the last," Gus said, kissing her cheek, making her laugh as Emma and Melanie arrived at the table. Emma sat beside Darren, while Melanie sat on the other side of Gus, who leaned over and hugged her, making her giggle.

"I'd hug you too, honey, but I'm all saucy," Bea said, wriggling her fingers at Mel.

"Boy if that ain't the truth," Gus said, making them laugh.

"So," Darren said, leaning forward and wiping his mouth on a napkin, "How's it feel, kid? To be out of there? Be back on the outside? Got any plans now that you're among society again?"

"She didn't get released from prison, Darren, what the hell," Emma said, chuckling as she lifted his iced tea to her lips and sipped.

"It's...weird," Melanie said, "When you go into a place like that, it seems like it'll be for forever, but...it isn't for forever, and eventually when you're let out, it feels like you were never there before. But...I wanna apologize to everyone, because my behavior wasn't-"

"No," Gus said, interrupting her, "no, I mean, yes, your weren't stable and it was dangerous, but...honestly, Mel, our lives were awful before you, and now they're better because of you. These two were milquetoast as hell," he said, motioning at Darren and Emma, both of who laughed as he added, "and me...I was a barely recovering alcoholic and I didn't think I could ever trust anyone to get close to me again, and you kicked in my door and forced me to be friends with you, and I don't think I could ever thank you enough for that. Recognize you were ill, certainly, but don't apologize for it. It wasn't your fault, and now you're better, so it all worked out."

Melanie wanted to cry. She had the best friends anyone could ever ask for. She leaned her head on Gus's shoulder and shut her eyes. And yet, happy as she was, there were still lingering issues in her mind. She missed Amelia, and she hated that she wouldn't leave the home, and of course, there was the issue regarding Shane's apartment...

After a while of gorging themselves on BBQ, Bea goaded Darren into beating her at pool, while Emma watched, leaving Gus and Melanie alone at the table. They watched from the table and laughed, each drinking a soda of their own, until Melanie finally cleared her throat and looked at Gus.

"I need your help," she said.

"Yeah, with what?" he asked, scratching his nose.

"...I need to clean out Shane's apartment," she said, "Mom wants to give it up, obviously, so we need to clear it out. She can't bear to do it herself, so she's asked me, and now I'm asking you, because I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do it on my own, to be honest."

"Yeah, that's no problem, I could do that with you," Gus said, "When?"

"I was hoping tomorrow," Mel said, "I mean, unless that doesn't work for you, or whatever."

"Naw, tomorrow's fine. Bea's got training anyway for the faire this year, so I'll be free," he said.

"...do you still like me?" Melanie asked quietly, surprising him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I guess I just always believed that people didn't like me when I was, I don't know, stable? Once I was admitted, I worried that if I got better, you guys would stop liking me. You wouldn't wanna be my friend anymore because I wasn't interesting anymore-"

"You weren't 'interesting', Melanie, you were worrisome. Don't ever think your poor mental faculties are what made you interesting. What makes you interesting is the fact that you decided it'd be better if you were healthier. That's a strength not everyone has," Gus said, "Hell, it took my marriage to fall apart for me to admit that my drinking was a detriment, not a quirk. You're stronger than I am, and I'm stronger now for having known you."

Melanie smiled and looked at the table, trying not to let him see her cry. She reached across the table, and he held her hand.

"I love you, Melanie," he said, "you're my best friend, man. I'm so glad you're home."

"I'm glad I'm home too. I love you too, man," she said, "thanks for keeping my shit together while I was gone."

"Thanks for getting your shit together while you were gone," Gus said, the both of them laughing.

Yes, it was a wonderful first day of the rest of her life. She'd worry about Shane's apartment the next day.

                                                                                                  ***

Angie had been morose since Rebecca had told her about her fathers death.

She wouldn't play the way she used to, she didn't like anything she used to like, and frankly, Rebecca was beginning to get worried. She watched Angie lay on her bed and color, but she didn't color with vigor anymore. It was more like something to do to pass the time, not an activity she actually enjoyed. Becca walked away from the room and sighed, scratching her head and fighting back tears. She thought back to when Angie had been born, and what he'd said that day...

"I'll always be here when she needs me"

Sure, he'd said it, but where was he now? When she needed him most? Now he was nowhere, and children don't cope well with that level of abandonment, intentional or otherwise. She knew from the start he had another life, a life he couldn't bail on, but when he told her he was finally coming home, she knew that life was over and they could finally be a family. And now what were they? A broken family? No. A broken family was a family that couldn't find a way to be a family. He'd wanted them to be a family. This was an accident. They were broken, though.

Just not in the traditional sense.

                                                                                                   ***

"Wow, nice digs," Gus said as he and Melanie entered the apartment.

Shane's place was well kept, organized, and minimal. It almost didn't even look lived in, as if he didn't spend a lot of his time here. Melanie shut the door behind them as they entered and she stood in the center of the living room, hands on her hips, exhaling, blowing her bangs from her eyes.

"...this doesn't feel real," Melanie finally said, "This...this doesn't feel real. That's the only way I can describe it, as unreal, and as someone who's spent a good portion of her life dealing with unreality, let me tell you that I know what I'm talking about with confidence."

Gus chuckled as he walked in more, looking through Shane's CD collection in the tower.

"Had good taste in music, we could've been friends," he said.

"He was always able to make friends, I was the one who had trouble," Mel said, walking to the table by his couch and opening it, pulling some things out as she added, "even then though, it always seemed like he was alone more often than not. I think he was scared. After dad died, I think he was scared to get that close to someone again, in case something happened to either himself or them."

"Understandable," Gus said, pulling a CD from the tower, "ooh, this album's out of print!"

"...this drawer has a fake bottom," Melanie said, catching Gus's attention.

"What's that now?" he asked, turning and walking towards her.

Melanie pulled the entire drawer out and then removed the false bottom, only to find an envelope underneath. She sat on the arm of the couch by the table and unclipped the top of the envelope, sliding out papers of all shapes and sizes. Gus sat beside her, looking at it with her, her eyes widening with each line read until they finally came to a photo.

"...oh my god,"  Melanie whispered, "...oh my god."

The papers? Birth certificates and other information regarding a little girl named Angelica, and a wedding certificate regarding Shane and a woman named Rebecca. And the photo? Well, the photo showed Shane and a little girl, presumably the same little girl the birth certificate belonged to, standing in front of a school together, as he hugged her tightly, and scribbled on the back was the writing

"Princess's first day of kindergarten w/ dad!"

Melanie collapsed back into the couch as everything she thought she knew about her brother melted away. Even Gus knew the implications, and didn't know how to react. The two of them sat together on the couch, staring at the apartment, unsure of how to go on.

"...he had a daughter...a wife," Melanie whispered.

                                                                                             ***

Shane and Melanie were standing outside the school a few months after their fathers death, and Shane was buttoning the collar on Melanie's shirt as she struggled to get free. He grinned at her energy, then knelt down to be eye level with her and touched her face.

"Remember to smile for your school photo," he said.

"Why?"

"Because you look nice when you smile," Shane said, "Remember? Dad always said you had the nicest smile he ever saw. I'll be back to pick you up after I'm out of school, okay? Just wait for me here. Now, salute."

Melanie saluted and Shane saluted his little sister back.

"Make the kingdom proud, your highness," he said.

Emma was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, looking at herself. She wanted to cry, but she was also afraid her makeup would run if she did, and then her parents would be annoyed with her for making them run late for services. Instead, she bit her lip and left the bathroom, headed down the stairs and climbed into the car to stay out of the rain. A few minutes later, her parents joined her, and together they drove to the cemetery for her sisters funeral.

Now, standing in front of her bathroom mirror once again as an adult, Emma found she wanted to cry. But this time, she wasn't going to be berated for doing so, so she did. She put her hands on the bathroom counter and she cried. She'd fix her makeup afterwards and if she were a few minutes late, nobody would care. She let herself sob hard, sob deeply, mourning a man she'd only known for a few months. She finally looked back at herself in the mirror, took a long deep breath, then started reapplying her makeup.

After a few minutes, Darren entered the bathroom, leaning on his cane as he looked at Emma. He reached out and touched her shoulders, making her smile weakly. He said something, but she was so deep in thought that she couldn't make out his words. She just nodded.

Meanwhile, Melanie was sitting in her room at the institution, staring at her shoes. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to whither away and vanish. Finally the door opened and she looked towards it to see Bea and Gus standing there. Melanie stood up and Bea entered, putting her arms around her, squeezing her tightly, finally making Melanie break and start to cry. After their hug broke, Melanie felt Gus wrap his arms around her and squeeze warmly. He put his lips to her ear and whispered.

"I'm so sorry your highness," he said, which made her smile.

Gus and Bea drove Melanie to the cemetery, knowing her mother would be arriving by herself, as she'd requested them to pick up Melanie. In the ride over, the rain falling hard on the car windows, Melanie couldn't help but think about what had happened that night in Gus's apartment. She shut her eyes and cried silently again.

Emma and Darren were still driving there as well, as Emma also watched the rain outside.

"It always rains on funerals," Emma said.

"What?" Darren asked, half laughing.

"It always rains on funerals," Emma repeated, "Every funeral I've ever been to, it's inexplicably rained, as if its reserved for these very specific occasions. It's weird, that's all."

"Huh," Darren said, "I guess you're right. I've never really thought about it, but you're right, now that I look back at my life, it has always rained on funerals. That's...bizarre. God I hope Melanie is going to be okay. We haven't seen her since it happened, and I can only hope that she's stable enough mentally now to cope with this sort of loss. I mean, we know how her fathers death impacted her, I can only imagine-"

"Stop talking Darren," Emma said, to which he did.

                                                                                                ***

Karen was, unbeknownst to the others, actually already at the cemetery, sitting in the temple, looking at the casket. She sighed, checked her watch, then stood up. She approached the casket, closed, her shoes making an echoing sound throughout the empty temple. As she reached the casket, she reached out and touched the casket lid, and a smile immediately broke out on her lips, but she couldn't understand why.

"I'm so sorry Shane," she whispered, "I wish I could've seen you before this happened. I wish...I wish I could've given you a better childhood, or a better family, or a better mother in particular, but I did the best I could in spite of what we went through. You were the best son I could've ever hoped for, and your father loved you, even if he showed it the way he showed it with Mel. But trust me, he loved you."

She sighed and looked around the temple, smiling.

"It's beautiful," she said, "The temple, I mean. I think you'd like it. You always had a soft spot for religious iconography."

She ran her hand down the casket and her smile faded slightly.

"You were the last Irres," she said, "The last male anyway. The line is dead now. God. An entire bloodline dead within a few decades. It doesn't seem fair, does it, Shane? You were also the only male McMeyers, so there'll be no more of those either. Your father and myself will both be responsible for ending our lineage. Ironic."

The door opened and a Rabbi entered. He walked up to Karen and smiled warmly at her as she turned to see him.

"Hello," she said.

"Are we almost ready?" he asked.

"Everyone should be here soon," she said, "...Rabbi, can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"Suppose someone didn't go to temple regularly, suppose they didn't consider themselves particularly religious in the slightest...they still go to Heaven, right?"

"God welcomes all with open arms," the Rabbi said, reaching out and rubbing Karen's arm gently, adding, "He doesn't judge us for our choices. He gave us free will after all. If he wanted us to be fearful, he wouldn't have let us do whatever we wanted. He would've made certain we all believed. And giving us free will certainly wasn't a litmus test, a sort of 'well, the real believers will find their way back to me and those will be the ones I reward' because why would he claim to love us all if only to damn some of us outright from the offset? Your son has a place in this universe, Mrs Irres, believe me."

"Thank you, Rabbi," Karen said, watching him turn and leave as she looked back at the casket and smiled again.

Shane had a place in the universe. He always did, even when he felt like he didn't. Karen started to cry. Her son was dead, and her family was smaller. This gaping hole left behind by the loss of her husband had only grown larger now, and she was unsure if anything would ever fill it.

                                                                                                    ***

"I love cemeteries," Bea said as they parked and climbed out of the car.

"You would, you fucking goth," Gus said, making her laugh.

"No, really, they have such a lovely calm atmosphere that you just can't find anywhere else," Bea said, "It's like a spookier botanical garden. A botanical garden full of dead people."

"You really know how to brighten up a day," Gus said as they looked back at the car, realizing Melanie hadn't gotten out yet. Bea looked at Gus, then headed back to the car and leaned in, pulling the front passenger seat up so she could see Mel in the back clearly.

"You okay?" she asked.

"If I go out there, if I attend this, he's gone," Mel said quietly, "It's real. If I acknowledge it, it's real."

"It is real, Mel, acknowledgement isn't necessary to reality. Things happen whether you believe them to or not. But you have Gus, you have Emma and Darren, plus your mom is already here it seems. We'll be with you, you know that. You don't have to go alone."

Mel looked at Bea, who smiled at her and touched her face.

"We're your friends, sweetheart," she said, "we're not gonna let you deal with this alone, okay? Come on, come inside."

Bea exited the car and, taking Melanie by the hand, led her out into the parking lot. Melanie hadn't been to a cemetery in a while, it felt like, not since she'd shown Gus her fathers grave. She hated cemeteries. She hated the idea of death and non existence. She hated that she didn't have a brother anymore, thanks to the insecurity of one man. This wasn't fair. Melanie started walking through the yard, past the headstones, and eventually stopped at a moss covered bench, seating herself.

"I just...I need a minute, I'll come in, I just need a minute," she said.

"You take as much time as you need, okay," Gus said, he and Bea heading in without her.

Melanie sat there for a while, listening to the wind howl, and feeling the light rain hitting her face and her hair. She was playing with the lace on her dress sleeves when she heard someone sit beside her and looked over to see Emma. Emma was holding an umbrella, covering them both, but neither woman spoke, not immediately anyway. Melanie looked around, but didn't see Darren.

"He's inside," Emma said, "I told him to go in without me."

"Why?"

"So I could talk to you," Emma said.

A long moment passed, full of silence, until Emma spoke again.

"I loved your brother," she finally said, "I...I started to have feelings for him, but he rebuffed me, as he should've, and reminded me how lucky I already am to have someone like Darren. Darren and I have our problems, but they're not insurmountable. We can overcome them if we just work together, because that's what a relationship is, it's effort. You wanna be with someone so badly that you'll do whatever it takes, to an extent of course. Your brother, though...he understood me in a way Darren never will."

"Shane was like that," Melanie said, pushing some of her silky blonde hair behind her ear and sighing, "He...he just kinda got people automatically, even within minutes of meeting them. He was always there to hear you, to help you...god, listen to me, I'm eulogizing him outside of the temple."

Emma chuckled and rubbed her hand up and down Melanie's back.

"...I hope he knew how appreciated he was," Mel said, "I hope...I hope he knew that we loved him. That I loved him. That I was really sorry for making him throw away his adolescence so he could protect me. That I regret making his life more difficult than it should've been, all because I got stuck with my fathers sisters mental problems."

"No, he wouldn't an apology," Emma said, shaking her head and taking Mel's hand in her own, rubbing it, "He loved you for who you were, and if you'd been different, he'd have loved that version of you. He loved you, for you, Mel, because you were his sister. Mental instability or not, he loved you. The last thing he'd ever want is for you to be sorry for yourself to him."

Melanie nodded, smiling weakly.

"Come on," Emma said, "Let's go inside and-"

Melanie suddenly threw her arms around Emma and started sobbing, taking her by surprise. After regaining her sense of surroundings, Emma just held Melanie, rubbing her back and stroking her hair.

"You cry as long as you need to, it's okay," she said, "I'm here."

                                                                                                   ***

"Shane was my first child," Karen said, standing in front of the casket in the temple, staring out at the select few who had come to pay their respects; she took a deep breath, blinked a few times and then continued, "and to lose a first child is...hard. To know that they won't see the things you saw, live the life you lived. Shane never got married. Shane never had a kid. He kept his private life exclusive to himself as he got older, and I don't blame him for that, but...to know that he won't leave anyone behind but his family...it makes you wonder about what our purpose even is here."

She looked across the crowd and noticed Melanie, sitting next to Emma, who had her arm around her. Karen smiled.

"He struggled, after my husband died, but he struggled internally. He felt it was his duty to take care of his little sister, be the man to her that their father now couldn't. That was too much pressure for a young boy but...he did it to himself, I never asked him to. I asked him for help, but nothing to the extent that he wound up giving. I think he couldn't stand the thought of a family being torn apart, so he did everything in his power possible to keep it from happening more than it already had. Chris and I...were...not the kind of people who should've been married. We're not the kind of people who should've had kids. Especially not with eachother. We had too many differences, too many problems, but we did, and we made a concerted effort to give them the love and support our own families failed to give us. Chris went above and beyond, and that's where Shane got his strength from, I think, because he did the same thing."

Karen looked down at her hands and sighed, shaking her head.

"And even in the last moments of his life, how did he spend them? Saving someone else, someone he barely knew," Karen said, "Friends of my daughter, of his sister. My only regret with Shane's death isn't that he's dead, because I knew he'd die eventually, we all do. My regret is that I didn't get to see him live. Truly live. Live as he was, as he wanted to be, as he could've been. Live as the man his father tried to be."

She started crying quietly, and excused herself as she turned back to the casket and put her hands on it, exhaling.

"I love you baby," she said, "Momma loves you."

Nobody moved, so Darren finally stood up and approached, taking Karen by the arm and gently leading her back to the pews where she seated herself. Melanie exhaled, knowing it was her chance to speak if she wanted to. She stood up, then looked at Emma.

"Come with me," she whispered, and Emma nodded, standing up and walking to the front with Melanie, standing by her side for support. Melanie tapped the microphone on the podium and exhaled again, looking out at the crowd the way her mother had.

"I just realized something, looking at everyone here," she said, "Nobody who's here actually knew him. Nobody in attendance for my brothers funeral was actually a friend of my brothers. Emma here kind of knew him, but the rest of you...the rest of you barely even met him. His life was so private, so distant from ours, that nobody he knew even showed up. I can't imagine being that alone. Not anymore. Not now that I've gained a support system. Shane was my support system for so long, and I...I think I'll rest easier knowing he'll rest easier knowing that I'm cared for. When we were kids, he followed me to and from school to make sure nobody hurt me. When I moved out, he made sure to have every address I ever stayed at. When I finally lost my shit, he made sure to come to therapy and talk with me."

Melanie started crying, but she bit her lip and soldiered on, feeling Emma's hand on her back.

"I loved my brother so much," she whispered, "and I just hope he knew that, because I don't think I said it enough. You think you do, you think you say it enough, but trust me you don't. You don't. And when the time comes when you finally can't...that's when it dawns on you how many times you could've but didn't. We get caught up in our lives, in the unnecessary drama and the day to day tedium that we think means so much but it doesn't mean anything compared to the people we know. We don't put enough stock in our relationships, and that's where we lose the most."

Mel turned and looked at the casket.

"I'm gonna keep getting better so that my brother would never have to worry about me again," she said, "Because he deserves to finally have some peace and relaxation after all the effort he gave me. It's only fair."

Mel approached the casket and, putting her hands on it, smiled, tears rolling down her face.

"I love you, Shane," she said quietly, almost to herself, "Say hi to dad."

Emma, as Darren had done with Karen, walked Melanie back to her seat, then approached the podium herself, much to everyones surprise. She cleared her throat and pushed her bangs from her eyes.

"Hi, my name is Emma, and I'm a friend of Melanie and Shane's. I only met the Irres about a year or two ago now, and, uh...when I was a teenager, my little sister threw herself off a bridge. My parents didn't grieve. They instead acted as though it never happened. That fucked me up. But...having known Shane, and knowing Melanie, I feel like I can relate to the loss and the grief that comes with losing a sibling. A sibling you try so damn hard to help. I'm not family, but I feel like I am now because of how much time I've spent with these people. I just wanted to take a moment and say that it doesn't matter if you're related, and it doesn't matter if you're not...all that matters is that you care. I cared for Shane. He was my friend. And I'm always gonna care for Melanie because, strange as it sounds to say after what we've been through...she's my best friend."

Melanie smiled, still crying, which made Emma laugh a little. Emma looked back at the casket, but unlike Karen and Mel, she didn't approach it, and she didn't touch it, and she didn't say anything. She just looked at it, the same way she used to look at his face across the diner table, and just appreciate he was there. Then she took her seat.

Eventually the service concluded, and the casket was lowered into the grave. Karen, still rather inconsolable, was taken home by Darren, who said he'd happily drive her car there later if she gave him the keys. Gus and Bea had to visit Chiako, make sure she was doing alright and that Leaf was doing alright with helping her mother. Waiting for Darren to get back, Emma and Mel stood in front of the headstone.

"...I'm your best friend, huh?" Mel asked.

"It's crazy, I know, and...and I can't believe I even said it but...Melanie before you came into my life, it was dull and ordinary. I was just a teacher. I lived simply and had a nice boyfriend and it was all so...plain. You guys made it not so plain, and I'm grateful for that shakeup," Emma replied, looking at Melanie.

"I'm sorry I tried to steal your boyfriend, I...I didn't know at the time that I-"

"No, and I know that, and I don't want you to apologize. Society molds us into the people it thinks we should be, and being anyone other than that is a serious act of rebellion, so I'm proud of you, just like he was," Emma said, "Come on, let's go inside, it's cold out here."

She took Melanie by the hand, and together they headed back into the temple. As they approached the front doors, Melanie took one more look over her shoulder at Shane's grave, and she smiled. He'd done what he'd set out to do, after all.

He had made sure she'd be okay.

Shane Irres was standing in his apartment, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around the phone that was pushed against his face.

"No, I know, and that's why I'm leaving," he said, "Look, I'll be there soon, okay? Things around here have calmed down considerably, and I don't need to be here anymore right now. I think my sister is capable of taking care of herself now and even if not she has a much better support group than she's ever had before. It's...it's no longer my responsibility, and I wanna come back now."

He let the person on the other end speak for a minute, and once they were finished, he smiled.

"Yes, and I'll bring her a box," he said, "She likes white chocolate, right? Okay. I'll be there soon."

Shane hung up the phone, then walked to the suitcases he'd packed the night before. Emma was right. It was time for him to move on. He pulled the suitcases to his car and pushed them into the backseat and the trunk, then walked back into his apartment and sat down on his couch, pulling his pad of paper and a pen to his lap. He thought for a moment, then started to write. Yes, Shane Irres was about to leave town, but first he had to write his sister a letter and leave it at her apartment.

                                                                                              ***

"He's dangerous," Chiako said, sitting on Gus's couch, "He's dangerous, and he knows he's dangerous and he doesn't care that he's dangerous. That's not exactly a great combination. He's very good at acting like a sane stable human being, but once alone, he...well, you can see."

Gus wanted to scream. In all the years he and Chiako had been together, he'd never once hurt her, not physically anyway. Oh sure, he'd said some stuff he'd later come to deeply regret, and his alcoholism had gotten way out of hand, but he'd never struck her. Gus knew you never hit a woman, unless perhaps it's in self defense, and even then he still would've felt bad about it. He paced back and forth in front of the coffee table as Bea sat on the couch beside Chiako, rubbing her back gently in circles.

"You can't just, you know, go to the police? Get a restraining order? For god sakes, there's physical evidence now," Gus said, finally turning to face her on the couch; he continued, "I mean, sure, he could violate the order, but-"

"Not could, would," Chiako replied, "He would absolutely violate the order and he'd be so mad about it that this bruise would be the least of my concerns. After what he'd do to me if I did that, I'd beg for this bruise. No. And I can't leave. I can't leave cause he'd find me, he'd know where to go, he'd...he'd hurt us if we left."

"Go to your folks, go out of state, somewhere you know he'll never find you," Gus said.

"I'm stuck, Gus," Chiako cried quietly, dabbing her eyes with the end of her sweater sleeve, "I...I'm so stuck and it's so scary."

Gus looked at Bea, who motioned with her head for him to follow her into the kitchen. Once inside, she lowered her voice and looked back over his shoulder at Chiako.

"We can't just send that poor woman out there on her own," Bea said, "As someone who's faced violent men in her personal life, I feel like I have an obligation, a duty of sorts, to help other women who are in the same situation. Look how badly he hurt her, and she's right, if this was for something minor, imagine what he'd do for something major."

"Okay, but what CAN we do, Beatrice? I mean, fuck, she can't just stay here," Gus said, "Wouldn't that be awkward?"

Bea hesitated, then chewed her lip.

"Do you...still love her?"

"I always will, we have a child together, but...god no, no, I'm...Bea," Gus put his hands on her arms and looked her square in the eyes as he smiled and said, "I will always love her for what we have together, but my love for her now is different from my love for her then, and it's not the same as the love I have for you. You're the girl in my life, she's the girl from my past. I can manage both without feeling torn. You're never in danger of being replaced, trust me."

Bea smiled and blushed, looking down at her feet. She leaned in and kissed him, just as the door to the apartment flew open and Jeremy strode inside. With a look of shock on their faces, nobody knew how to react, not that there was time. He saw Chiako, then saw her glance towards the kitchen. He then turned his sight towards Gus and Bea, then raised his gun. Bea quickly reached for a knife on the counter as Jeremy put his finger on the trigger, but Gus grabbed the knife from her and shoved her against the fridge as the gun was fired, and Gus was pushed back against the wall, bleeding from his chest. Bea screamed, Chiako screamed, and Jeremy shut the door behind him, locking it.

"You always come back here," Jeremy said as he approached the couch, "why? Look at him."

Chiako wouldn't look, so Jeremy grabbed her chin and forcefully turned her head.

"I said look at him!" he screamed, "That pathetic piece of shit couldn't even stop drinking and yet you still come back here! Is he better than me?!"

"Anyone's better than you," Bea mumbled, catching Jeremy's attention. He looked up and furrowed his brow, his hand squeezing the gun tightly as Bea wiped her face on her arm, her eyeliner running down her face as she put one hand on Gus and used the other hand to help herself up against the fridge.

"Excuse me?" Jeremy asked.

"You fucking heard me," Bea said, "Anyone's better than you. You're not a man. A man doesn't have to inflict violence on the people he claims to love to get them to love him back. You call Gus a pathetic loser, but at least he recognized his drinking was a problem for those he loved and removed himself from the situation because of it. Because he didn't want to hurt them. You're the one who's fucking pathetic."

Jeremy grinned as he stood fully up now, walking towards her. To his surprise, unlike Chiako, Bea didn't back down as he approached. She firmly stood her ground and stared him in the eyes.

"I like you," he said, "I admit it, you've got some guts. I can't imagine what you see in a guy like Gus here, but that's not really my business I guess. But you could do better, really. So do you want me to shoot him again? Would that make you feel scared? Because if not, then I suggest you sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up until I'm done."

Bea looked at Gus, who just shook his head gently, his eyes fluttering open and shut, and she did as she was told. She lowered herself back to the floor and put her face down on Gus's chest, holding him tightly as Jeremy walked back to the couch and knelt in front of Chiako.

"So let's talk about our relationship," he said coldly.

                                                                                              ***

Melanie walked into the room after being instructed to enter and shut the door behind her, leaning against it. Amelia looked up from where she sat on the bed and smiled at her.

"Hi," she said, "How was seeing your mom?"

"I need to talk to you," Melanie said, walking further in and sitting on the bed; she scratched the back of her head and sighed, "Um...look, I...I've never really known who I was, and I guess maybe I won't for a while. A few weeks ago I had my friend help me create a personality for my therapist, because I was so unsure of myself that I didn't trust myself to answer her questions correctly. The only thing I've ever known about myself was that I was a princess to my father. Every dad calls their little girl princess, you know, but mine took it seriously."

"I'm sorry," Amelia said, "Losing him must've been hard."

"Yeah, it...it was, and it's taken me a very long time to get to this point, where I'm finally capable of seeing that loss for what it was, loss, and not an excuse. I'm like my father, but I'm not my father. I'm not afraid to be who I am like he was. A lot of that, I guarantee, is simply due to the time periods we each grew up in. He had a lot more reason to be afraid. Thanks to how society reacted, and how his parents would've reacted...but my mom isn't like his parents, he wasn't like them. I wasn't afraid to be a princess and I'm not afraid now to say that I like you and I want you to leave with me."

Amelia smiled again, and took Mel's hand in her own, rubbing it gently.

"I appreciate that," Amelia said, "I do, but I'm not supposed to leave. If you liked me, you'll like someone else. Trust me, outside here, I am not...not okay."

"Neither was I, but now I will be, and now I can help you," Mel said, "Please, let me prove that-"

"No, I...you said it yourself. Your brothers adolescence was stolen from him because he had to constantly watch out for you. I don't want your adulthood stolen from you for the same reason. I'm not worth that. I'm happy that we met, and that maybe I somehow helped you come to these conclusions about yourself, but if you liked me, go like someone new."

Mel felt her chest begin to hurt. All she wanted to do was be with Amelia. Why was this so hard?

"Why are you here?" Mel asked softly, "If you're not going to come with me, at least tell me why you're even here."

Amelia sighed and looked around the room. She wanted to, she did, but she was afraid of what Melanie might think of her if she did. She looked back at Melanie and, leaning in, kissed her on the cheek. Melanie smiled weakly and blushed.

"You're a good person Melanie," she said, "I feel grateful to have known you."

"Come with me," Melanie begged, but Amelia just shook her head, starting to cry too.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but I can't."

Melanie just pushed her head into Amelia's chest, and Amelia stroked her hair. Through the doors little window, Karen watched. She wanted Melanie to have love, to be happy, and she could see how much this was hurting her. She sighed and pulled her purse up further on her shoulder by the strings when she heard shoes approach her and turned to see Leah.

"Hi doctor," Karen said.

"I'm glad you came tonight," Leah said, "I need to talk to you about the Melanie's upcoming release."

"...yes, of course, certainly," Karen said. As she prepared to follow Leah to her office, she couldn't help but take one more glance through the window and smile. She knew this would work out somehow. Call it a mothers intuition.

                                                                                                ***

Bea was sitting on the cold kitchen floor, her fingers playing with Gus's as his breath got more and more shallow. He groaned and tried to sit further up, but she insisted her stay put. She leaned in and looked at the wound, and noticed it wasn't as bad as she initially thought. In fact, it was more of a shoulder wound than an actual chest wound, but it still needed medical attention and soon.

"Bea," Gus said, his voice weak and wobbly, "Hey Bea."

"Ye...yeah?" she asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"You know what I just realized? You stabbed your dad in the shoulder because you hated him, and you stabbed me in the shoulder at the faire. Was it because you loved me?"

"Hah," Bea replied, genuinely chuckling as she shook her head, "Uh, yeah, I guess so. That is an odd mirroring, but sure. You're gonna be okay, okay? I'm gonna get you to the hospital and they'll clean and dress your wound and...and you'll be alright."

She reached in and pushed Gus's hair from his face and then leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. He smiled, then coughed. He never thought he'd be this lucky again to have someone love him this way.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly, which only made her cry more.

Suddenly, Jeremy grabbed Bea by her hair and dragged her away from him, into the center of the living room, throwing her to the floor.

"Sit here and stop talking!" he screamed, "I need to think and I can't fucking do that if you guys won't shut the hell up!"

"Don't you touch her!" Gus shouted, surprising even himself with his strength in the moment.

"Oh yeah? You don't want me to touch her? You gonna stop me?" Jeremy asked, raising the gun and aiming at Gus, who was now pulling himself up against the counter, groaning.

"Yeah," he said, "I am."

Outside, Shane pulled up the complex. He tapped the envelope he'd put the letter for Mel into on his steering wheel, then exhaled. He felt bad leaving without saying anything, but he knew it was easier this way. He put his hand on the door handle and prepared to exit the car when his phone rang. He sighed, reached over to the cell on the dash and looked at it. It was Emma. He smiled, then put the phone down. He'd call her when he got back into the car. Shane exited the car, pushing the envelope into his jacket pocket as he walked across the street. He pulled open the complex doors and headed inside, then headed up the stairs.

Shane walked until he found her apartment, and then he used the spare key to open her apartment and he entered. He'd been coming by regularly to help clean it and keep things in check, so he felt it was only fair that he come in one more time before heading out of town. He pulled the envelope from his pocket and leaned it up against the lamp on the bedside table, then looked at the photo Melanie had of herself and Shane as teenagers, and he smiled. She'd be okay now. He'd done his duty, and it was time to get back to his own life. He'd put it off long enough. Shane exited the room and, while locking it, heard crying. He turned and looked at Gus's apartment, right across the hall.

Shane cautiously approached the door and put his ear against the door, listening. He could hear crying, and he could hear a man shouting angrily. A man that wasn't Gus. Then he realized he couldn't hear Gus at all. Shane pulled away from the door and looked at it, his brow furrowing. It was probably fine, right? It was probably just an argument with a friend or something. Shane turned and headed down the stairs. He had a long drive ahead of him.

Inside the apartment, Gus was staggering towards Jeremy, whose finger was on the trigger now.

"Just sit down, man, you don't have a chance, look at you," Jeremy said.

"It doesn't matter whether I succeed, the fact that I'm trying is what proves my morality is superior to yours," Gus said, "I'm weak but willing to protect, and you're strong but willing to hurt. That's the core fundamental difference between men like you and I."

"Sit down Gus, I don't wanna hurt you again," Jeremy said.

"I will not sit down," Gus said, the knife still firmly in his hand, "I'm gonna make you pay for hurting my ex wife, my current girlfriend, scaring my daughter and, least importantly, shooting me."

Jeremy shook his head and aimed at Gus's head.

"We could've been friends," Jeremy said, "Shame."

Just then the door opened and Shane barreled through, tackling Jeremy. Gus staggered backwards, falling onto the ground as the girls screamed in utter surprise. Shane grabbed Jeremy by the collar and held him down, punching him a few times before Jeremy, finally realizing what was happening, managed to kick Shane off of him and scrambled for the gun. Shane looked around for anything to defend himself, to defend Mel's friends, but the only thing he saw was the knife Gus had. He then looked at Jeremy, who was standing tall again. Jeremy smiled, then aimed the gun at Bea's head, and everything seemed to freeze.

His entire life, Shane Irres had looked out for his little sister. For her well being. For her mental health. He'd protected her from bullies on the playground, he'd watched over her when she moved out. He was determined, even at the expense of his own life, to make sure she was okay. It was only now that he realized he'd never escape that. Without a weapon, Shane took the only opportunity he had and looked at Gus, nodding. Gus nodded back, almost like he understood, then Shane took off across the room, running full speed at Jeremy, surprising him. As he wrapped his arms around Jeremy, the two struggled through the glass door that led to the balcony, and then tumbled over.

It was all over in a second, and at first, nobody in the apartment knew how to react.

Somewhere in the distance, Gus swore he could hear a cell phone ringing.

                                                                                                 ***

Emma put the phone back down and looked at the diner from her car, sighing.

It wasn't like Shane not to answer, and she was hoping to see him before he left town tonight. She groaned and felt her eyes burn. She wanted to cry. Why was this so difficult for her? Suddenly she heard the wailing of ambulances, and saw two cop cars and an ambulance speed behind him. Usually this sort of thing wouldn't catch Emma's eye, she wouldn't think twice even, but for some reason tonight it did. She pulled out of her parking space and followed them.

As she pulled up the apartment complex, she saw Shane's car, and she saw Bea and Chiako standing outside the complex. She didn't see Shane, and she didn't see Gus. Emma parked haphazardly and got out of the car, running across the street. As she approached, Bea walked briskly up to her and put her hands on Emma's arms, stopping her from getting closer.

"What's going on?" Emma asked.

"Don't come closer," Bea said, her eyes wet as hell, her hair a mess, "Just don't come closer."

"Where's Gus?" Emma asked.

"He's in the ambulance, he's okay, he'll be okay," Bea said.

"Where's Shane?" Emma asked, and Bea didn't answer; Emma knew the answer, but she asked again anyway, almost as if expecting something different as the words left her lips, "Where's...Shane?"

                                                                                             ***

Melanie was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Why wouldn't Amelia leave with her? Why did all the people she want to love wind up not being able to stay with her? Her father, Lisa, and now Amelia...it just didn't feel fair. Suddenly there was a knock on her door, and she sat up, confused. The door opened and an orderly stood there.

"Is everything okay?" Mel asked.

"You have a visitor."

"But it's, like, really late at night," Mel said.

"She said it was an emergency," the orderly said, shrugging, moving aside and letting Emma walk into the room.

Melanie was, certainly, surprised but also thrilled to see her. She sat up and smiled, until she saw how Emma looked. She sat down on the bed and she looked at her shoes. She wouldn't even look at Melanie. Melanie tapped her on the shoulder and Emma finally exhaled, then pushed her bangs from her eyes.

"When we met," Emma said, "Uh, I hated you. I mean I hated you. You were bubbly and fun and everything I wasn't, and you were trying to steal my boyfriend from me. Now, though...now I can't imagine my life without you. I met your brother a few months ago. We started meeting regularly and having coffee and just talking. I grew to like him just as much as I like you. He helped me sort through my life, made me feel like someone really cared about how I felt, and it made me realize how much he loved you, because he'd spent his entire life doing that."

Melanie nodded, pulling her legs up to the bed and hugging them, listening.

"Um," Emma said, choking back tears, albeit somewhat unsuccessfully, as she continued, "...he was leaving town. He didn't wanna tell you in person, but he was leaving town for a while. Said he had some things to take care of. Uh, I was trying to meet with him tonight, but he wouldn't...he wouldn't answer his phone."

She finally cracked and started crying uncontrollably.

"He wouldn't answer his phone," she sobbed, her voice low and husky, "I'm so sorry Melanie."

"...Emma?" Mel asked, her voice wavering now.

"Your brother's dead," Emma said, before hugging Melanie and whispering, "Your brother's dead, and I'm so sorry. But I'm here, and I'll do what he did for you. I promise."

Melanie and Emma hugged and cried in that room on that bed for hours, each so appreciative of the other in that moment. It was then and there that each girl recognized they'd never once had a friend as good as eachother, and how grateful they were to have it now.

                                                                                             ***

Melanie was sitting on a swing in the backyard of their house, when Shane sat down in the adjoining swing. It'd been maybe a week since their father had died, and while Shane was keeping his feelings inside, Melanie was completely breaking down. She spent all her time alone if possible, and she simply immersed herself in not just her isolation, but also her storybooks about fantasy lands with dragons and wizards and, of course, princesses.

"You okay?" he asked.

"...why did daddy have to die?" Melanie asked, and Shane shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, "but...at least he's not in pain anymore."

"Who's gonna protect me now?" Melanie asked, "Dad always protected me."

"Well, I'll protect you," Shane said, smiling, rubbing her back, "After all, what're big brothers for?"

Chris Irres didn't particularly like social situations.

He wasn't antisocial by any means, but he especially hated group things like parties. Right now, standing in the room next to the snack table, sipping his beer, he was wishing he could be anywhere else. He sighed, slipped his free hand into his pocket and leaned against the wall beside the table as he watched all the people chat or dance.

"You know, just standing here and watching is kinda creepy," a young woman standing at the table, dipping a chip before biting into it, said, adding, "like you're looking for just the right person to kill at the end of the night."

"Oh, god no, no, I only murder people I don't know. Don't shit where you eat and all that," Chris said, making her laugh; he smiled and held out his hand, saying, "I'm Chris."

"Karen," she said, shaking his hand.

She was pretty, there was no argument. She had medium length blonde hair, somewhat wavy, and big green eyes. She had the kind of figure you only have in your early twenties, and she had freckles across her face that time would eventually soften and almost vanish. Chris couldn't deny she was extremely cute, and he felt bad that she'd decided to talk to him of all people.

"So do you like being here?" he asked.

"Why? You asking so you can get me somewhere alone and kill me?" Karen asked.

"Darn," he said, snapping his fingers, "you saw right through me."

Karen smirked and ate another chip, then pushed her bangs from her face and sidled up beside him, leaning against the free bit of wall. They stood there, together for a few minutes in silence, simply watching the crowd. Chris finished his beer and shook the bottle, as Karen, her voice low now, whispered.

"You wanna go somewhere?" she asked.

"God please," he replied.

With that, they got their coats and headed out.

While walking down the street, Chris was surprised she'd been so forward. Rarely had anyone asked him to go anywhere, he was often the one who had to ask people, and more often than not he was turned down. It was cold out, but it wasn't freezing. Chris unzipped his jacket and then exhaled, running his hands through his fluffy messy brown bedhead. A few cars passed by, music blasting from the windows of some, and then he heard the sound of a lighter. Chris looked at Karen, who was lighting a joint and taking a long puff before offering it to him. He shrugged, took it and took a hit himself.

"I get it," Karen said, "I mean, the whole hating parties thing, like, that I get. But why show up in the first place if you don't like being there?"

"Eh, I came for a friend," Chris said, "Jeff, the guy who owns the apartment. How did you wind up there?"

"Oh, my friend Marsha invited me cause she met Jeff at work," Karen said.

"Imagine that, friends by proximity," Chris said.

"Is there any other kind?"

"Sure, genuine friendship, not just because you're in the same location but because you actually like the same things and actually like one another," Chris said, taking another hit before handing the joint back to Karen.

"So you don't actually like me?" she asked, catching him off guard and making him cough and chuckle nervously.

"Sorry, that...that wasn't what I meant," he said, "I, uh, yeah, of course I do, sure. You seem cool. You offered to get me out of there, which I'm grateful for, so there's that. Why? Do you like me?"

Karen stopped and took another long puff before exhaling the smoke into his face, making him laugh and cough. She smiled wryly and, standing on her tiptoes, she whispered.

"No, I don't, you just happened to be around, you know, that whole proximity thing," she said before kissing him. Chris was surprised by her forwardness, but he wasn't put off. He kissed her back, because, well, that's what you were supposed to, right? Men were supposed to find a woman to love and be with and start a family. Who cared if he was in love with his roommate at college, Eric? He could ignore that. He could. He could.

He told himself that repeatedly because he hoped it'd eventually come true.

                                                                                               ***

"What color do you want this?" Karen asked, looking at the two paint cans on the table in the kitchen. Chris stood up beside her and, chewing his lip, waited for a moment until he finally pointed at the pale green, which made her smile and say, "That's exactly what I was thinking too."

"Well then why'd you ask me?" he replied playfully as she picked up a screwdriver and popped open the lid to the paint can.

They'd been married for 4 months, and had bought this small home in a nice quiet neighborhood thanks to help from his parents. Chris has recently gotten a job doing editorial work on a magazine, while Karen continued her way through the law firm she was working at, hoping to eventually work her way up the ladder instead of just being a junior attorney. Chris knelt back down to the floor and dipped his brush into the can again, then tapped his fingers on the floor and looked around the kitchen.

"You know," he said, "We need to get some drapes for the window."

"Yeah, I know, I was thinking of going into town tomorrow and seeing what I could find."

"I'll go with you," he replied.

"You don't have to work?" she asked.

"No, I mean, I do, but it's not like I can't do it at night when we get back. I'll just stay up a bit late," Chris said, "it's fine. I'd much prefer to shop for curtains."

Karen laughed and shook her head. A man who liked to go shopping with her? For CURTAINS? How did she get so lucky? If only she knew the truth. Chris helped renovate the entire home, even doing things that normally a wife would be expected to do. But she just loved him all the more for it, and what started as proximity did easily grow into that genuine appreciation. Chris was soft and gentle, understanding and compassionate. He was intelligent and protective but not aggressively so. He was everything Karen McMyers could ever have wanted in a man, and she couldn't believe she'd gotten so lucky to have found him.

Karen's own mother had tried time and time again to find a man - she'd gotten pregnant with Karen in college - but it never really ended well. The more she thought about her mother, and thus her failure in love, the luckier she felt herself. She started painting a wall, then glanced over her shoulder at Chris and thought about what it'd be like to have children with him. He'd be a wonderful father, she thought, and soon enough she was proven right, because only a year later was their son Shane born, and then a handful of years later, Melanie, but...

...Shane was because they'd wanted to have a family, and Melanie was because they'd wanted to save their marriage.

                                                                                                 ***

"I'm sorry," Chris said softly, looking at the floor as he sat on the couch while Karen leaned against the wall across from him, near the entertainment center, exhaling smoke from her cigarette. She shook her head and didn't even know what to say to him.

"I just...I can't...I don't hate you, Chris," she said, "I just wish you'd told me this sooner."

"I was scared," he said, and she nodded.

"I understand," she said, "I'm...upset, I mean I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but I don't hate you for it. But we have two children together, you can't just...leave."

"I don't wanna leave," Chris said, finally looking up, his face covered in tears as he wiped his nose on his sleeve, "god, I couldn't leave Melanie or you, or Shane. I...you're my family. I love you all so much. And...and maybe I don't love you in the way you hoped I would, but that doesn't mean I don't love you at all, because I do, I just..."

Karen walked to the couch and sat beside him, rubbing his back.

"I know, this has to be hard for you," she said, "but I am nothing if not open minded. For god sakes I smoked a joint in front of you within the half hour of our meeting. I think I can be trusted to be open minded. I understand why-"

"No, you don't, Karen," Chris said, "My parents were so hateful growing up, not to me, but just to people in general. So bigoted, and so closed minded. If they found out I...oh god, I would've lost my ability to go to school, we wouldn't have this house, everything would be so different, and I couldn't do that. I had to have things good. I had to have what everyone else had. I had to come off as...normal."

"Chris," Karen said, squeezing his arm gently, "you're normal, okay? People like you are normal. Please don't ever think you're not. We can make this work. You can...we can be a family without being together, and still live together, you know, for the facade or whatever. I want you to be happy. I do."

Chris half laughed and half cried. How had he been so lucky to meet a woman this wonderful? He looked at her, and she smiled at him, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. Just then, from the hallway, they heard Melanie's voice babble something, and Karen wiped Chris's eyes, then told him to take their daughter back to bed, which he happily did. He tucked her in, he read her a story, and he stroked her hair until she fell back asleep. Sitting there, watching her, he knew he couldn't leave. He couldn't leave this beautiful little girl. He'd been given everything a man should want, and yet it wasn't what he wanted, but he was still thankful for it.

She was his little princess, after all.

                                                                                                 ***

Karen's voice was shaky, her hands trembling. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Chris was standing there, the both of them in the living room. The kids were at school, but it was almost time for school to be out. Karen ran her hands down her face, then reached into her purse on the table for a cigarette, fumbling to get one out. After she did, Chris lit it for her, which she thanked him quietly for. She took a long drag, then exhaled and looked at him again.

"...what does this mean?" she asked.

"...you know what it means," he said.

"...what do we do?" she asked, "I mean, what do we do? The kids will...will obviously ask questions, especially as you get sicker, and..."

"I know, and I don't know," Chris said, "They're young enough that I think we can feed them some kind of medical bullshit and they'd buy it, but that isn't what matters right now."

"Am I sick?"

"Of course not, we haven't slept together in ages, and I was always protected when with you," Chris said.

"But never with them?"

"I was," Chris said, "I...I don't know how it happened, honestly. You've read the news, you've seen it in the papers, you know this thing doesn't care how careful you are. It's gonna happen, and it happened to me now. Now what matters is making sure you're taken care of."

Karen finally cracked, whimpering a little as tears rolled down her face. Chris stepped forward and wiped her face clean, then kissed her cheek. She looked up at him and smiled weakly. He took her trembling hand in his and squeezed it gently as she spoke.

"All I ever wanted was you," she said, "from the moment I saw you. I'm so glad I got to be with you in some capacity."

Chris smiled and nodded.

"Right back atcha," he said, "now come on, let's go pick the kids up. We can talk about this later."

But there wasn't anything to talk about. Chris had Aids, and there was nothing to be done. The future was set in stone now. Chris Irres was going to die, and Karen was just going to have to live with that. As the months passed, and Chris slowly began to get sicker and sicker - requiring Karen's help for anything and everything - she found herself taking her peace where she could. Late nights after he'd fallen asleep, she'd sit outside on the front porch and smoke, or she'd think about her mother. Her mothers failed romances. How ironic. Karen had been successful in love, and even then it didn't matter. Life still took it from her.

When Chris was finally taken to the hospital, because he couldn't be at home anymore and required more care, that was when it hit Karen the hardest. That was when it became real, in a sense. Sitting by her husbands bedside, his skin pale, his eyes sunken, she would sit and read to him from the latest issue of his magazine subscriptions, knowing that'd make him happy. Sometimes he'd smile best he could at something she was reading, and sometimes he'd almost laugh but instead wind up coughing. He appreciated what she was doing, and that was all that mattered to him. His folks, when they learned of his illness, cut him off entirely. They never once visited, they never offered to pay for his bills. To them, they had no son any more, but that was fine. Chris Irres didn't need his family. He'd made his own family, and they loved him to death, and beyond.

That night was still clear as crystal to Karen.

She noticed Chris's head rolling to the side, like he was looking out into the hallway at the nurses and doctors and other people, and she leaned in and tapped his hand. He looked back at her and smiled, which made her smile.

"You know," she said, pushing her hair behind her ear, "it's creepy to watch people like that. Like you're looking for someone to kill."

"Already done it. Killed myself," he said weakly, which made her laugh, half out of nervousness and half out of actual appreciation for his sense of humor; he weakly lifted his hand, but he couldn't lift it all the way up, so she took his wrist in her hand and guided his hand to her face, where she knew he wanted it. He caressed her cheek and she shut her eyes.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered.

"Hey," he said, "Neither do I."

She laughed again, her eyes soggy with tears.

"But you'll be okay. You're always okay. You always manage to find a way to survive," Chris said, "Which is great, at least one of us is good at surviving."

"don't leave me," Karen whispered, and Chris smiled.

"If I had a choice, I wouldn't," he whispered back.

It wasn't long before Chris was gone, and afterwards, Karen sat in the room by his now empty bed, until she saw Daisy enter the room. Karen stood up and walked across the room, hugging her tightly, which surprised Daisy but she happily hugged her back. Chris had been the one to be mad at her, not Karen, and Karen needed her help to arrange the funeral and lay him to rest. Who better than his own sister? As they hugged that night in the hospital room, Karen couldn't help but be grateful she was there.

"I loved him so much," she wept quietly into Daisy's ear, and she smiled, patting her back.

"Good, because he loved that you loved him," she said, "Somebody had to."

                                                                                               ***

"I won't sit here and pretend like I wasn't upset," Karen said, "I won't lie and say I was fine with everything, or how it all shook out, and I certainly won't act like I wasn't unhappy about the man I married liking other men, but I'll be damned if I was gonna be another person in his life who hurt him because of who he was. He deserved better than that. We gave eachother the best thing we could. I gave him acceptance, and he gave me you."

Melanie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her father was gay? He'd died from Aids? Karen cleared her throat and played with her bracelet, smiling weakly.

"Your sexuality isn't a surprise, Mel," Karen said, "not when put into context, and just like I was with him, I'll never not love you because of it. You're my daughter, regardless of who you love, and he was my husband...regardless of who he loved. Far too many wives are happy to kick their husband to the curb once they're no longer the focal point of their attention, and in many cases it's fair, but this is not one of those cases. I vowed to love him, in sickness and in health, til death did we part, and that's what I did. He couldn't help but be who he was, and I wasn't about to be like his parents, and tell him I wouldn't allow it. If he was here today, god, he'd be so proud of you."

"I...I don't...even..."

"If you love a girl, then you love that girl with all the love that you can muster," Karen said, reaching across the table and patting her daughters hand, adding, "because it's the strongest feeling in the world. Chris knew that. That's why we stuck things out, because we knew nobody would treat us as well as we treated one another. Marriage is a friendship first and foremost, and that's what we were, best friends. I just want you to be happy, but I also want you to understand where you came from. Who you are. You're Melanie Irres, and you're not a surprise or a disappointment. You're a person. Your own person. So be you, while you have the chance to do so."

Melanie sat back in her chair and sighed. Everything she'd ever known about her father was now in a different context, and she wasn't sure what to think, except that - and this made her smile big - she'd never felt closer to him than in this moment.

                                                                                               ***

Jeremy was sitting in his car, gritting his teeth, his fingers wrapping around the handgun he'd brought with him. He'd followed Chiako to the apartment complex, and he was going to make things right. He opened his car door, stuffed the gun in his jacket pocket and headed across the street, reached the complex and headed through the door.

And within the next half hour, two people would be dead in Gus's apartment.

Chiako opened her front door, her eyes wide, surprised to see Gus standing on her porch. She smiled and stepped aside, offering him entrance. He smiled and walked past her, hearing her shut the door behind them as Gus turned to face her, hands in his pockets.

"We need to talk," Gus said.

"We're divorced, you're not allowed to say that anymore," Chiako said, making him chuckle.

"This isn't about us, believe me," Gus said, "It's about Leaf, and...well, you, to an extent."

Chiako's brow raised, as she folded her arms and leaned against the wall.

"I'm listening," she said.

"So, a number of times recently I've either run into Jeremy or had Leaf stop by and things have been...concerning, to say the least. Leaf says she doesn't wanna be home when he's here, and he's outright vaguely threatened me more than once. At Mel's birthday, when we jousted, I just sort of assumed it was pseudo ironic masculinity posturing, but...apparently it was very much real masculinity posturing. In hindsight, that should've been a major red flag."

Chiako nodded and exhaled, standing up and walking up to Gus, but not looking at him.

"...you're not wrong to be concerned," she said quietly, "things have been weird and rough between us especially lately and he's got quite a temper. Leaf specifically signed up a number of after school activities or other things in the community simply so she doesn't have to be here when he is, and frankly I don't blame her."

Gus bit his lip and waited, listening.

"But, and I'm sort of ashamed to admmit this, I'm scared to end it. Which is ridiculous because I was taught to defend myself, to stand up for myself. Hell, it's what caught your interest in me to begin with, remember, was how outspoken I was? But there's something about his quietly seething rage that absolutely terrifies me and makes it hard to gauge whether it's safer to stay and endure it or risk him hurting me by ending things."

Gus squared his shoulders and put his hands on her shoulders. Now she looked up at him, her eyes watery.

"I promise I will never let anything happen to either you or Leaf. We may not be together anymore, and I may have screwed up what we had, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I will always love you, and her. You're still my family. I'll deal with him first hand if he ever tries anything. You say the word and I'll deal with it, understand?"

Chiako smiled weakly and nodded as she reached up and wiped her eyes on her sweatshirt sleeve.

"Thanks Gus," she said softly, "I guess I got pretty lucky having you in my life."

"Damn right you did," he replied, making them both laugh a little as he added, "I just wish I could've seen how lucky I was before I messed it all up."

                                                                                             ***

"I love puppets," Amelia said as she prepared one of the characters she and Melanie had spent the past week trying to create. They had a slew of characters ready to go, and had even announced they'd be putting on a puppet show for anyone interested in watching it. Now that the day was here, they still needed to finish some slight tweaking to their sets and cast, but otherwise were excited and ready; Amelia continued, "I know it's such an old fashioned form of entertainment, but I always loved it. I've always liked old stuff like that."

"Puppet shows are the best," Melanie said, gluing a little crown onto a puppet, adding, "I always asked for a puppet show during my birthdays. And seeing as I had no friends, the show was always just for me. It felt special. Made me feel like a real princess."

Amelia smiled at this story as she grabbed a gluestick and started fixing up one of the sets.

"You like princesses huh?" Amelia said.

"...I think I like the idea of feeling that important," Mel said, "like...I don't really know how to explain it, but...I guess...children are often unsure of their place in the world, and their worth, and I liked how lucky princesses seemed. An entire kingdom, all for them to rule, giving them power even when they're young, and everyone loved them. I liked feeling loved and heard. My parents listened to me too well, almost, but I appreciate it. Aside from my fathers death, I actually had a really good childhood, at least, while he was alive."

"I'm sorry he died," Amelia said, "My parents and I never really saw eye to eye, and I wish we had. They never understood that I was sick, and now I'm so over it. I'm okay being alone. Or, relatively alone."

Melanie blushed as she finished adjusting the now properly glued on crown. She set the character down on the table and sighed, looking around the room as she pulled her hair up and tying it into a messy bun. She looked at Amelia, who glanced at her as she affixed a tree to the set she was working on.

"Yeah?" Amelia asked.

"...um..." Melanie said, "...you aren't just doing this to hurt me, are you?"

Amelia's eyes widened in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I...about a year ago, I met a girl in a support girl who got close to me only so she could more effectively hurt me, and my brother, and I guess it's made me somewhat wary of trusting anyone new. God, that sounds so shitty, but-"

"No, your PTSD is completely valid, I just...I didn't know that, obviously, so it caught me off guard. But no, I'm not, I promise. I like you. We like the same things. It's nice to feel safe around someone. I haven't felt that in years," Amelia said, sighing, holding the set up in front of herself and saying, "...I'm not going to hurt you. If anything, I'm more scared that I'm the one who's going to get hurt. I always get hurt. I always feel as though I have to put on a face around people I want to like me, like I'm in a play, so it's nice to find people I don't have to wear a mask in front of."

Melanie smiled and nodded, understanding. She completely felt that way too. That was part of why she appreciated Gus and Emma and Darren so much, because even after all she'd put them through, after the lowest they'd seen her...they still liked her for exactly who she was, and that, Melanie had discovered, was very hard to find in this life, and if you did get lucky enough to find it, you should hold onto it for dear life and thank the universe every day.

                                                                                                    ***

Bea was standing in front of the fridge when Gus got home. As she heard the door shut, she shouted hello, and when she finally came out of the fridge she found him standing in the kitchen, watching her. She had a celery stick in one hand and a jar of peanut butter in the other, and he just smiled upon seeing her. She slowly pulled the celery stick from her mouth, set the peanut butter jar down on the counter behind her and then brushed her bangs from her eyes.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he said, still chuckling, "getting a snack?"

"I like food, so sue me," Bea said.

"No, I like a girl with a healthy appetite, especially for destruction," Gus said, "...could you teach me to fight?"

Bea stopped, halfway through putting peanut butter on her celery, and stared at Gus. She waited, then slowly shook her head, which surprised him.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I don't wanna teach someone how to be violent," Bea said.

"You fight for a living!"

"...come with me and let me tell you something," Bea said, finishing her celery and walking to the living room and sitting down on the couch, Gus sitting beside her. She bit into her celery, took a few chews and swallowed, then exhaled and said, "Do you know why I fight, Gus? When I was a little girl, my parents fought all the time. So much so that they didn't really any time for me. And this wasn't a case of either one being better than the other, they were both equally awful. But one night my dad started outright beating my mother, and I knew I couldn't let it happen anymore, so I stepped in and he beat me too. I spent weeks in the hospital."

"Jesus, Beatrice, I had no-"

"Then," she said, interrupting, "I vowed I wouldn't let a man do that to me ever again. I was upset he actually physically hurt my mother, but far as I was concerned, I was far more interested in protecting myself. So I got books out from the library and learned about swords, and I took fencing classes, and I learned how to fight. That way, if that time ever came again, I could rest assured kick his ass back."

"Well good for you," Gus said.

"And that day did indeed come," she said, "At my high school graduation. He showed up at our house unannounced, and raving about how he wasn't invited. My mother had bought me a fairly expensive sword as a graduation present, something she'd saved up for for a few years, and when he came inside the house after I deliberately warned him not to, I did what I had to. I stabbed him."

"Jesus!"

"I stabbed my father," Bea said, "and he didn't die, it wasn't by any means fatal, I just stabbed him in the shoulder, but it was enough to prove to him to never touch me again. It was the right thing to do in the moment, but I don't like inflicting violence on people. Yet, it's my first immediate response. Fight or flight? I fight. I fight tooth and nail like a wild animal backed into a corner. So no, I won't teach you anything. I'll kick ass if I have to, but I will not impart that wisdom on anyone else. Nobody should ever be forced to have to defend themselves."

Gus could hear her voice cracking, so he reached behind her and rubbing her back, leaning towards her.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," he whispered, "hey, Bea, it's okay. I love you. I love you so much. This doesn't change that, okay? You don't feel comfortable teaching me that, then fine. That's fine. I never wanna make you uncomfortable."

Bea turned and looked at him, before leaning in and kissing him hard. He shut his eyes, kissing her back. Gus had never expected to love someone again after his marriage failed, and yet here he was, proof positive that even when you reach the bottom, you're never cut off from redemption. They stayed on the couch the remainder of the night as he made Bea feel better, and he even cooked dinner for them. If her youth had been turbulent, he figured the least he could do was make her adulthood peaceful.

                                                                                              ***

Emma tapped her fingernails on her styrofoam coffee cup, then finally looked up and remembered where she was when she saw Shane smile at her across the table. He lifted his own cup to his lips and took a sip.

"You okay?" he asked, "You seem kinda distant."

"I'm wondering if I'm making all the wrong choices in regards to my relationship," Emma said, "A year ago, I would've said sure, I'd love nothing more than to be Darren's wife, but now...I asked him if he'd be okay and able to move on if we broke up, and he said he would be, and somehow that offended me. It shouldn't. I should be happy he's that capable. But..."

She looked up, embarrassed as she lowered her voice.

"...but you said you didn't wanna move on, and we've never even..."

"There's a number of reasons I can't move on, and sure knowing you is a part of that," Shane said, "but I also can't get involved for a number of other reasons. But you love this guy, don't you? Doesn't he make you happy, in general? If you could picture it, could you see a future where you two are together and happy? If not, then that answers everything for you. So tell me, do you see that future?"

Emma straightened up and thought long and hard momentarily, and she smiled weakly.

"I can, actually, yes," she said.

"I'm leaving town," Shane said, "Not forever, just for a few months. I have some stuff I have to take care of in a neighboring town. But I just thought I should let you know so that you aren't caught off guard by my sudden absence."

"Thanks for telling me," Emma said, taking another sip of her coffee before clearing her throat and asking, "you know, seems like everyone I know came from fucked up families, and that's sad. You think there's families out there who don't experience shocking loss and painful cruelty at the hands of an uncaring god?"

"Fuck dude, you didn't have to go that dark," Shane said, making her chuckle as he smiled and said, "but yeah, there have to be families with totally normal, happy people. I mean, the world works in some manner, right? Gotta have someone in charge of stuff to keep it all chugging along."

"You gonna see your sister before you leave?" Emma asked, and Shane bit his lip, shrugging.

"I might just leave her a note," he said, "I mean, I won't be gone long, so."

Emma smiled and nodded, then drank her coffee while Shane drank his. She appreciated having him around to bounce her issues off of, and she was going to miss him while he was gone, but he'd be back before she knew it, so what really was there to worry about? They'd have coffee again. They'd discuss her upcoming marriage. How funny, she thought, that the person to become her close friend was the brother of the very woman who'd upended her life?

Emma had nothing but pure appreciation for the Irres these days.

                                                                                                   ***

"Once upon a time," Melanie said, kneeling behind the setup she and Amelia had created, "there was a kingdom."

The story they wove was about a king, and his daughter. How he trained her to take over the kingdom once he was gone, and the dragon that eventually took his life, forcing her to take revenge. But, when given the chance to kill the dragon, instead she chose peace and understanding, and forgave it. The dragon, touched by this kindness, repaid the debt in any way it could by guarding the kingdom from any incoming invader, and in the end, it was love that saved the kingdom, because, as Melanie narrated, nothing was more powerful than love.

After the show concluded, the citizens of the home who attended clapped and cheered for the girls and their storytelling abilities. When the lights came back on, and everyone began shuffling out as Melanie and Amelia cleaned things up, Melanie found she felt better than she had in years. She stopped putting things in the box and, seated on the floor, looked around the home.

"...I'm gonna miss this place when I have to leave," she said, "to think this was the thing I was always afraid of, and now I can't believe I avoided it for so long because I genuinely thought I couldn't get better."

Amelia set her box down and crawled across the floor, sitting in front of Melanie and looking around as well.

"There is an odd comfort to it all, isn't there? Knowing you can come here, get your shit together, and leave with your life back on track," she said, "...promise you'll come and visit?"

"You don't have to stay."

"I can't manage it out there, not on my own."

"Then leave with me," Melanie said, surprising Amelia, making her laugh nervously.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Yeah, we'll share an apartment," Melanie said, "My apartment is on hold for me, we can just move back in and you can be as involved or uninvolved with life as possible. I'm going to have to get a job, but if you're not capable of that, then so what. Everyone has usefulness, whether it's on constant show. You can give back simply by being there."

"That's very nice of you and all, but..." Amelia said, her eyes looking at the floor, "...but I don't think-"

"I like you," Melanie said.

"Well, I like you too, that's why we-"

"No. I like you," Melanie said sternly, "...this is something I've...I've only come to terms with in the last few months, but...but it's something I've avoided my whole life. I'm tired of avoiding it. I'm tired of being alone. I like you, and I wanna be with you. I'm sorry if that's forward, I just...I'm sick of not being true to myself and letting good things slip by."

"I'm a good thing?" Amelia asked, blushing.

"You're a very good thing," Mel said, leaning in, her voice lowering as she put her hand against Amelia's face and whispered, "come, rule my kingdom with me."

Amelia leaned in and kissed Melanie, Melanie happily kissing her back. This. This was what Melanie had thought she might have with Lisa, but now she was having it for real. Honest, genuine understanding. Love, as she had said, was the most powerful thing there was. They sat there, in the empty living area, kissing for minutes on end, before the door opened and Melanie quickly spun her head around to see her mother standing there, smiling at them. Amelia stood up, excusing herself and taking their puppets and sets and whatnot back to her room. Melanie stood up and nervously approached her mother.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize," Karen said, "I watched your show, and then I had to use the bathroom. But please, never apologize for yourself. You know you're my daughter, and I love you for whoever you are and whoever you love, okay?"

Melanie smiled and hugged her mother.

"Besides, it's not all that surprising," Karen said, "Given..."

Melanie pulled away and looked at her mother, confused.

"Given what, mom?" she asked, and her mother sighed.

"I came to see your show, like you called and asked me to do, but...I think it's time you knew about your father. Who he really was. I think that may finally give you some understanding, not just about him, but also yourself."

Melanie didn't know how to respond.

                                                                                               ***

A knock, at this hour? Who the hell was knocking on the door? Bea groaned and rolled off the couch, while Gus continued to saw logs. She stood up, her eyes blurry, as she stumbled across the living room and pulled the front door open, only to find Chiako standing there, looking at the floor.

"Oh," Bea said, yawning, "uh, god, what time is it? Why are you-"

She looked up, and Bea understood. Her right side of her face was black and bruised. Bea felt like she'd just been hit by a car and immediately, instinctively hugged her, which made Chiako start to cry.

"I need to see Gus," she cried, and Bea nodded, patting her back.

"It's okay, you're okay, come inside," Bea said, "You're gonna be okay."

She shut the door behind them, completely unaware that, from across the street sitting in his car, having followed Chiako there, Jeremy sat gritting his teeth, his fingers wrapping around the handgun sitting beside him.

Melanie couldn't believe her eyes. Standing there in the hallway, her eyes wide, her jaw somewhat slack, she almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming or something. She wanted to walk down the hall and talk to her, but she was terrified at what would happen if she did. After all, the last time she'd seen Lisa, she'd tied Melanie to a chair and then stabbed her friend.

Needless to say, things had been left pretty awkward between them.

                                                                                              ***

"Name?"

"Lisa Pankow," the attendant said, as the doctor took Lisa's name down.

"Reason for staying?"

"Too many to list," the attendant said, "but let's just say complete mental breakdown. Violent tendencies, overt obsessive tendencies, stalking, inability to tell reality from fantasy, do you want more?"

"No, that'll be fine," the doctor replied, jotting it all down.

After Lisa's information was taken down, and she was put into the system, they gave her the clothes she'd be wearing for the stay and took anything potentially sharp away from her, ranging from pens all the way to hair clips. Then she was led to her room, put inside and left to her own devices for the remainder of the day so she could become acclimated to her new surroundings. Lisa just sat on her bed and didn't get up for the rest of the day, not even to look out the window.

Lisa hadn't always been this sick, or at least, not so obviously so. She'd always been able to maintain a facade of what society would consider "normalcy", until about the time she met Shane. Sure, she'd always been that weird girl, but it wasn't until she met Shane while working her part time job at the grocery store that she began to lose it altogether. At first, Shane thought her quirks were just that, quirks, and not symptoms of a more serious underlying mental health instability, but when she started following him around, taking pictures of him from afar, that was when he started to draw the line.

And when she met Melanie in the support group, immediately recognizing her from the photos in Shane's apartment, she formulated a plan to get back into his life.

                                                                                                  ***

"It's her, I'm sure of it," Melanie said, sitting with Gus and Bea at the lunch tables outside. Gus had brought lunch from one of Melanie's favorite restaurants, and the three of them were sitting at one of the large wooden picnic tables outdoors.

"Did you say anything to her?" Gus asked, and Mel shook her head.

"I want to, but I don't know exactly how to approach someone who held you hostage," she said, "I mean, I can't just be like 'hey, how have you been? taken anyone else hostage lately?', because that's not only insensitive it's also weird."

Bea chuckled as she took another bite of her pita sandwich. Gus picked up his soda and sipped through the straw for a long while, until he set it back down, cleared his throat and looked back at Mel across the table.

"Maybe it's worth it," he said, surprising them both, as he added, "I mean, obviously not like that, but maybe it's worth it overall to talk to her. Who knows, maybe she's doing great now, you know? Maybe she's got all her issues sorted out and she's in a much better place than she used to be. Maybe things could actually be cordial between you two."

"Yeah, maybe you could even take someone hostage together as a team building exercise," Bea said, making Gus laugh.

"...what if she's not though? I mean, what if she's somehow even worse?" Mel asked.

"Come on," Gus said, "People don't get worse in places like this. That's why they come here. To get better."

Maybe Gus was right. The only way to know for sure was to talk to Lisa.

                                                                                                 ***

"I talked to Melanie on the phone," Emma said, sitting across from Shane in their usual diner spot, "she told me Lisa was at the same home she was. I figured you should know, considering."

"I don't want anything to do with that woman," Shane said, "I mean, great for her, I hope she's getting the help she so clearly needs, but I don't want her involved in my life in any way ever again. Hopefully Mel is doing well enough to recognize that she too should stay away."

Emma stirred her cup of coffee, then reached to the side of the table and picked up a packet of sugar, tearing it open and pouring it into the cup, stirring it again.

"Let's discuss something other than the girl who stalked me," Shane said.

"Forgive me for dwelling on it," Emma said, "But, you know, she stabbed my fiance, after all."

"I know, and I'm sorry that happened," Shane said, "I just don't like to think about the whole situation. I'd prefer to move on."

"Then what are you still doing here?" Emma asked, taking Shane by surprise.

"What?"

"You always say you never got to live your own life because you were always looking after Melanie, but she's in good hands now, she's getting help, and Lisa's out of your life, and communication between your mother and sister are good again, so why are you sticking around? If I'm moving on with my life, why aren't you? Move out of the city, go somewhere you always wanted to go, do something you always wanted to do."

"It...it's not that easy," Shane said quietly, "I can't just leave."

"Sure ya can," Emma said, sipping from her cup, "I mean, everything that was holding you back is gone now, right? It's all fixed, or being fixed, and your presence isn't a requirement anymore, so why stick around?"

Shane didn't respond, making Emma furrow her brow.

"is it...me?" she asked, and he sighed, scratching his forehead as she whispered, "oh, god, I...I don't..."

"It's fine, I just...I'm ignoring it. I'm ignoring everything."

"You know, if I wasn't, I mean, if I were available, I would-"

"I know," Shane said, smiling a little now, "but the fantasy is nice to keep alive. That's why I like having these little meetings with you. Sort of feels like we have something even when we don't. It's not that easy to just walk away from that."

Emma didn't know what to say. She liked Shane, she couldn't deny that, especially not to him when he was already well aware of the fact, but she was also engaged. Together they sat in silence for a bit, drinking their coffee, occasionally glancing out the window by the table, until Emma sighed and swept her bangs from her eyes.

"Please don't stay because of me," Emma said.

"...why?"

"Because I don't wanna be the one to blame when you realize one day you wasted your life on a fantasy that can't come true," Emma said, "That isn't fair to me. Hell, it isn't even fair to you. You should get out of the city, like I said, go do something else. Meet someone else."

Shane nodded, looking at his hands on the table.

The thing is, and he was afraid to say this out loud, he was afraid to leave the city. He was afraid that he'd already spent so much of his life looking out for others that he didn't know how to look out for himself. He didn't know how to live any other way than he already was. But...but maybe she was right. She usually was. That was one of the things he liked most about Emma, was how smart she was, especially when it came to other people.

Maybe it was time to move on after all.

"Does Darren know she's there?" Shane asked.

"No, and I prefer to keep it that way. I doubt the last person he'd wanna see is the girl who stabbed him," Emma said.

"An understandable feeling," Shane replied, the both of them chuckling.

                                                                                                  ***

Melanie had never been great at making friends, this was why Lisa's betrayal had hurt so deeply. But now...now they were once again in the same place, working presumably towards the same goal - to get healthier - and maybe this was the right time to be friends. Maybe now, with some distance from the situation prior, they could actually be friends. She'd been seeing her around the home for a week now, but was still unsure of how exactly how to approach her, despite desperately wanting to.

This night in particular, Lisa was again in the hall, mopping. Melanie was standing at the end of the hall, watching, and Lisa didn't seem to even be remotely aware of her presence. Melanie finally took a deep breath and started down the hall towards Lisa. As she approached, she reached out and touched Lisa's shoulder, which made her jump. She backed away and turned to face Melanie, with almost a look of complete unrecognization on her face.

"Lisa?" Melanie asked.

"....yes?" her voice weak and timid, certainly no longer the bombastic woman she'd previously been.

"It's...it's me, Melanie, Shane's brother?" Mel asked, "I'm sure you remember me, all things considered."

Lisa nodded slowly.

"How have you been?" Mel asked.

"...bad," Lisa finally said.

"Really? But you're here to get better, aren't you?"

"You don't get it," Lisa said, almost laughing nervously as she shook her head, "I'm not gonna get better."

                                                                                               ***

"Can I ask you a question?" Emma asked as she and Darren stood at the stove, cooking dinner together, or rather while Darren cooked dinner and Emma helped him with simple tasks.

"I sure hope so, otherwise it means you've forgotten how," Darren said, making Emma smirk.

"Smartass," she said, "um...do you remember the girl who stabbed you?...alright that was stupidly worded. Remember when that girl stabbed you in Melanie's apartment?"

"Of course, who couldn't forget such an oddly erotic evening such as that," Darren said, as Emma stared at him, eyes wide.

"Dude, what," she said flatly, making him laugh as she shook her head and continued, "Well, I was just thinking about that whole thing this afternoon and I guess I was wondering how you would react if you ran into her again, considering."

"...ya know, I've thought a lot about it," Darren said, "I mean, she not only took a friend hostage, she not only stabbed me but she also made me use a cane for the foreseeable future, and even after all that, I don't think I'd blame her outright. Like Melanie, she was clearly sick, and while that doesn't inherently excuse her actions, it at least explains them, and I'd be remiss if I didn't recognize that those actions aren't necessarily her own in some way. With the right help, she'd likely not do that sort of thing. Am I still mad? Yeah, honestly. Would I also forgive her? At some point. Anger isn't worth holding onto."

"That's very mature for you," Emma said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Darren asked, laughing, "honestly, I'm mostly mad that she almost took me away from you, more than anything else. I don't mind the cane, I don't even mind having been stabbed - even if it hurt like hell at the moment - and while I'm certainly nonplussed about her holding a friend hostage, I'm more than anything mad that she almost took you out of my life by taking me out of my life."

Emma blushed and continued cutting up chunks of meat on the counter as Darren kissed the side of her head.

"What made you think of that?" Darren asked.

"Just...thinking about Melanie, thinking about the changes she brought to our life," Emma said, "and how, despite making it different, she also made it better. She's doing so well now, and it's nice to see, but it made me think about that other girl."

"Well," Darren said, "Melanie might be weird but at least she never stabbed me. She's earned my good grace from that alone. I like people who don't stab me."

"That goes without saying," Emma said, the both of them giggling.

Emma stopped cutting and looked at the board, the meat, then back at Darren.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"...you aren't just marrying me because it's easier than starting over, are you?" she asked.

"Holy hell you're a ball of insecurities tonight," Darren said, "of course not, why would you even-"

"Just...if we broke up, would you be able to move on? Would you be able to get on with your life? Or would you be so hung up on me that you wouldn't be able to leave?" Emma asked.

"Wow, think pretty highly of yourself don't you?" Darren asked, chuckling, "Yeah, of course I'd be devastated, but I think I'd also eventually have to move on. I mean, that's life, right? No use sticking around for people who don't want me here. But I would hope that never happens. I love you. I want you to be my wife. So it's all moot, right?"

Emma looked back down at the cutting board. Was it all moot? Shane had said he couldn't move on because of her, and they hadn't even been romantically involved exactly. Why would it be so easy for Darren, who'd spent so much time with her, to be able to move on? She sighed and finished cutting the meat, scraping it off the board into the pot he had on the stove.

She then excused herself, went to the bathroom and dug her cell phone out of her purse. She sat on the toilet lid and dialed a number.

"Hello?" Shane asked, answering.

"What are you doing right now?" Emma asked.

"Watching someone try and play an instrument on some terrible live talent show," Shane said, "Why?"

"...it's just nice to hear your voice."

                                                                                                 ***

"Not gonna get better?" Mel asked, "What...what does that mean?"

"What does it sound like?" Lisa asked, shrugging, "it means I'm not one of those people who gets to get better. This is who I am. This is who I'll always be. Sure, I might be stabilized, but I'll never be okay enough to be like everyone else."

"I'm...I'm sorry," Mel whispered and Lisa shrugged again.

"what's it matter anyway, right?" she asked softly, "I mean...what good did I do in the world? I'm better in here. Everyone's better when I'm in here, removed from the outside."

"That isn't true, that-"

"You need to stay away from me," Lisa said, stammering, voice cracking, "I...I can't get sucked back into that. This is a better place for me to be in, even if I'm never going to get better. This is something I can handle. I have chores, I have a bed, I have hobbies. This is what I need. What I don't need is people from the outside making my life more complicated. I need to finish mopping."

Lisa turned back around and continued mopping, dipping her mop back into the bucket, then taking it back out and spreading it across the floor.

"Lisa, I don't-"

"Leave me alone!" Lisa shouted, tossing the mop on the floor and stumbling backwards, her foot stepping into the bucket, sending both the water inside and herself falling to the floor; she started to cry and back away on her hands, "Just leave me alone, please!"

Mel backed away as a nurse and an orderly approached to help Lisa while she writhed on the floor, crying, begging to be left alone. Melanie turned quickly on her heel and started walking briskly down the hall until she reached her bedroom and shut the door. She leaned against the door and stared at the wall, unsure of how exactly to feel in regards to this entire situation. She walked to the bed and sat down, just as the door opened and Amelia entered cautiously. Mel looked up and Amelia shook a box she was holding in her hand.

"Wanna do a puzzle?" she asked, and Mel cracked a little smile.

At least she had one friend. And, unlike Lisa, she was getting better.

She wasn't in a bad place anymore.

"It's nice to see you have friends who visit you regularly," Leah said, "I mean, it's good that you have that support system."

Leah knew Mel had friends, of course - after all, she'd been recommended to Leah thanks to Emma - but she felt it necessary to reiterate that very fact back to Melanie regularly to remind her that her efforts at betterment weren't only for herself but also a positive thing for those around her. Melanie shrugged and bit her lower lip.

"I guess," she said, "It's nice to see Gus. It's just lonely here without them. I mean...I'm scared to befriend anyone here because I'm worried if they aren't getting better, they'll pull me back down with them, you know? Is that wrong?"

"Not at all, you're here to help yourself, and that's a perfectly valid reason to stay away from people. Some people, unfortunately, don't get better. It's just a fact, it's not a judgement," Leah said, crossing her legs, "but for what it's worth, I'm proud of you, the efforts you're making and the strides you've made. You've come a very long way since we met, and since the storm especially."

Mel groaned. She didn't like thinking about that night in particular. She shifted in her chair and glanced to the window, overlooking the garden with the fountain, and saw the very same woman who had peeked into her bedroom. She was sitting on the lip of the fountain, creating a flower crown. She had long curly golden red hair and she seemed to be almost...totally at peace? Mel finally came back to reality after a moment and looked back at Leah.

"Are we done?" Mel asked, and Leah, surprised at the abruptness of the session, simply nodded.

After Melanie was let out, she headed straight for the garden area, but when she finally arrived at the fountain, the woman was gone, She sighed, threw her arms up in frustration and continued walking. As she headed down the path, past various other residents of the home, she then heard humming from a nearby little pond (extremely small and shallow, to keep residents from attempting to drown themselves), and saw the woman sitting there, throwing sunflowers into the water for the ducks. Melanie straightened her hair, then continued towards her.

"Hello?" she asked, as she approached, and the woman looked up, smiling.

"Hello," she said.

"I saw you through the window, I saw you making a flower crown."

The woman grinned and raised her hands to her head, touching the flower crown that now sat atop her head.

"I am the fairy queen, and as such, I require the most beautiful headgear," she said, making Melanie chuckle; the woman then gently patted the little stones she was sitting on and said, "Please, sit with me, I like company."

Melanie seated herself and took some sunflower seeds for herself, eating some and tossing the remainders into the pond.

"What's your name? I'm Melanie," Mel said.

"I'm Amelia," the woman said, "Isn't it just beautiful here? It's so pretty and relaxing it makes me never want to leave, especially when you're reminded of just how ugly and cold the real world outside these walls is."

"It's very charming, I admit," Mel said, "...so why are you here?"

Amelia smiled warmly, making Mel feel strange, before shrugging and saying, "we all know why we're here. Because we can't be out there."

                                                                                             ***

Gus stood in front of his bathroom mirror, shaving, when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind and he could immediately smell Bea. He laughed as she squeezed him, before she took her clothes off, climbed into the shower and started the water. Gus continued shaving carefully, thinking about the last time he'd run into Jeremy in the park, and the way he and Leaf had reacted to one another.

"Tell me I'm being overly concerned," Gus finally said, "Tell me I'm just being a dad."

"You're totally being a dad," Bea said, "There's no denying that, but I also can't deny the fact that the guy skeeves me out just as much as h does you."

"Something about the way she acts around him makes me uncomfortable, like she's walking on eggshells," Gus said, "Like...like she's afraid to even talk around him. I don't know, maybe I'm paranoid. Maybe everything is fine. She's becoming a teenager, there's certainly room for general awkwardness."

"But she's not awkward around us," Bea said from the shower, "I mean, even around you, and you're her dad. Pre-pubescent girls are notoriously awkward around their dads."

Gus tapped his razor on the sink edge, ran his hand over his face and looked to the shower.

"Were you awkward around your dad?" he asked, and the door slid open as Bea peaked out.

"Are you kidding? I'm STILL awkward around my dad," Bea said, laughing, "Now, get naked and get in here with me."

Gus grinned. That was an offer he couldn't refuse.

                                                                                                  ***

"Your family has been coming in for therapy?" Amelia asked, surprised.

"Yeah, they support me, they wanna see me get better," Mel said, "Is that...surprising?"

"I don't know, I don't have any family, so I guess I'm just surprised whenever anyones family is supportive because I'm not entirely sure what family is supposed to be like," Amelia said, picking at her flower crown as she added, "but it's nice to know that some people are loved, and have that support. It means the world isn't as cold and careless as I was led to believe."

Melanie wanted to ask why she had no family, but she decided against pushing the issue. Instead she cleared her throat and looked back towards the ducks in the pond beside them. Amelia really wasn't at all how she'd expected her to be. She'd expected her to be...well...crazy, to use an outdated term. To be raving mad. Instead, she was coherent and well versed. This didn't make sense, because most of the people Melanie had come into contact with here thus far had been of the unwell variety, but Amelia...she seemed like she could walk right out of here if she wanted.

"I appreciate them, it's true," Mel said after a few moments, picking at her nails, "but their support for me doesn't mean the world isn't cold and careless. Take it from someone who's been through hell in the last few years...life is very cold and cruel, and if anything, that level of support - while worthwhile - actually may at times do more harm than good, as it shelters us from the reality of life. It makes us think life is nothing but abject happiness, when in reality, life is often nothing but unfair cruelty a lot of the time...not to sound, ya know, all depressing about it or whatever."

Amelia threw her head back and laughed, which in turn made Melanie feel better. She was afraid that perhaps her perspective would sour this potential new friendship.

"Well, thank you for being so blunt about it," Amelia said, "It's good to know I'm not the only one with a pseudo bleak outlook on everything."

Melanie smiled again. Maybe friendship here was possible, but only if she let it be.

                                                                                               ***

"See, now this guy is an asshole," Bea said, as she laid on Gus's couch, her legs across his lap while she ate an ice cream sandwich and pointed accusingly towards the television; "he's talking about how much these antiques are going for when he's dressed like a goddamn snake oil salesman from the twenties! The absolute audacity of a man who wears a bowtie and loafers to tell me what my antiquities are worth when he don't know shit about taste."

Gus shook his head and bit into his own ice cream sandwich as he said, "I love you, I hope you know that."

Just then the phone rang. Gus reached to his side to the table by the couch, hitting one end with his fist so it popped off the base and he caught it in his hand. He then lifted the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Dad?"

"Leaf? What's going on?" Gus asked.

"Can I come over?"

Gus hesitated, but only because he was surprised. He ushered Bea off his lap and stood up.

"Yeah, of course, you know you're welcome here anytime," he said, "What...what's up?"

"Okay. I'm gonna ride my bike. I'll be there soon," she said.

Before she hung up, Gus could hear shouting in the background, and he simply shook his head then dumped the phone back to the base and sighed, pacing, rubbing his forehead as Bea sat upright on the couch, finishing her ice cream sandwich and licking her fingers clean.

"Wassup?" she asked, mouth still half full of ice cream sandwich.

"That was Leaf, she's riding her bike over here," Gus said, "I think I heard shouting in the background. I think there's something really shitty going on over there. I...I wanna do something to fix this but I don't know what I can do."

"You can give your daughter a safe place to escape to, like you are. Your ex wife is a grown woman who can handle herself," Bea said, standing up and approaching him, putting her hands on his arms, "you don't have to rush to her rescue, believe me. From the things you've told me about that lady, she's...she's scary, but I'm telling you that your main concern right now is to your child, not your ex."

Gus nodded and cautiously placed his head on her collarbone. Bea smiled and held him, gently stroking his hair.

"I just don't wanna see her get hurt again," Gus whispered, "I already hurt her once, by accident, and I think she deserves better now."

"That's noble of you," Bea replied, "but right now your daughter needs a safe place to live and clearly home isn't it, so let this be a home to her too."

When Leaf finally showed up, she was quiet and didn't want to discuss things. Gus ordered in whatever she wanted, and he even took the three of them out to get movies before settling back in for the night. Once Gus was asleep on the couch, Bea offered Leaf to follow her onto his balcony, and together they sat there and Bea lit up a cigarette while Leaf chewed gum.

"So what's going on? Your dad's all flustered and, funny as it is to watch, it makes me concerned for you," Bea asked.

"Jeremy's weird. Sometimes he's a totally nice guy, but most of the time he just...goes off about anything to anyone," Leaf said, "he scares me. I've started locking my bedroom door at night because I just don't trust him to not come in and smother me in my sleep with my pillow, or...or worse."

That got Bea's attention.

"What do you mean 'or worse'??" she asked, "Do you have some reason to believe he'd do you harm of some kind?"

"...a few weeks ago, when I was with my mom doing errands, I saw him with another girl. She...she didn't look my age, but she also didn't look much older. Maybe late high school? I don't know, I'm bad at gauging that sort of thing. I didn't say anything to my mom, and as far as I know he didn't see me, but...ever since then, it's made me worried he might do something to me. Now I just try and spend as much time out of the house as possible, but I feel bad leaving mom there alone."

Bea reached over and started rubbing Leaf's back, which calmed her down.

"...I like you and everything, but sometimes I wish mom and dad hadn't separated," she said.

"I understand, and I don't blame you," Bea said, "Cool as I am, I'm certainly no replacement for your actual mom. But at least you know you can come here when things get weird there, and we'll always protect, you okay? You don't have to worry about bothering us or asking for too much, because that's what we're here for. Your dad loves you so much, an by extension, so do I."

Leaf smiled and put her head on Bea's shoulder as Bea continued to smoke with one hand and rub Leaf's back with the other.

"People need to be there for eachother. Take it from me, as someone who grew up with not a lot of great adult influences in my life, I wanna help in any way I can. You just tell me whose ass to kick, and I'll kick it."

Leaf laughed, which made Bea feel good. That made her realize she was making Leaf feel safe, and that made her feel good.

"I promise," Leaf said, "When the time comes, I'll let you know."

                                                                                                 ***

Mel and Amelia had come inside once it had gotten dark - as was the rule for people in the home - and were now set up in the lounge area, just doing art and sketches and coloring pages. It was said to relax you, but Melanie never really got that feeling from it, but Amelia seemed to be enjoying herself, so that was nice.

"Do you ever think about what you might do when you leave?" Mel asked, "I wrack my brain constantly but can never seem to come up with anything other than resuming my old life but, ya know, less hysterically."

"Seems like a fair enough idea," Amelia said, picking up a new marker and coloring something, "but no, I really don't. I honestly don't know that I'll ever leave. I feel safest here, and I'm afraid of what I might do if I leave."

This surprised Melanie enough to make her look up from her arts and crafts project, jaw slightly ajar.

"Really? You can afford to stay here indefinitely?" she asked.

"Yes, but that's not really the issue," Amelia said, "like I said, I'm afraid of what I'd do if I left. I think sometimes some people just...can't function out in the world, and I'm one of those people. Sad as it may sound, it's the way it is. But at least in here, I'll always be the fairy queen," she finished, smiling and touching her flower crown once again before yawning, stretching and adding, "I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you at breakfast."

As she stood up, she slid the paper she was working on across the table to Melanie and patted her on the head, then headed out the lounge area and to her room. Mel turned the paper around and looked at it, blushing as she saw a very childlike drawing of the two of them together in a field of flowers. Melanie then took the drawing back with her to her own room, taped it to the wall over her bed and laid down. She pulled the storybook that Darren had brought her out from under her bed and cracked it open, reading, and thinking about this new friend.

While the statement she had made about potentially never leaving made her somewhat sad, Melanie wanted to do what she could for this new friend. The way she saw it, everyone had been there for her when she'd been at her lowest, and maybe Amelia was Melanie's chance to do the same for her.

It was, after all, a princesses duty to give back to her community.

"Emma."

Emma didn't respond. How could she? She was utterly lost in thought while she pushed her salad around endlessly in its bowl.

"Emma?"

Now she looked up, her thoughts ended by the voice speaking to her. She glanced across the table to Darren's mother, Patricia, who was sitting there in a nice suit, eating her own salad. Emma glanced to her side and saw Darren, and now she remembered where she was and what they were doing. Lunch. Wedding preparations. Right.

"Yeah?" Emma asked, finally responding.

"Have you picked out a dress yet?" Pat asked, and Emma shook her head.

"No, I actually haven't even been trying any on," she replied, "There's so many things to take care of, and with fluctuating body weight, I figure it's best to wait until the last minute to find something so it will still fit when the day comes, you know? You never know if you're gonna gain a few pounds or lose a few pounds in between the decision and the day proper."

"Smart," Pat said, nodding, spearing a cherry tomato from her bowl and popping it into her mouth, chewing as she added, "And what about invitations?"

"We've found someone, but we haven't gotten it started," Emma said, grabbing her glass from the table and taking a long sip, "But it'll be something fairly courteous but also nonchalant. I don't wanna force people to feel like they have to come if they're uncomfortable or whatever. Besides, I'd prefer a smaller wedding anyway."

"What are they gonna say?" Pat asked, looking between her son and Emma.

"Uh, I don't know, something along the lines of 'You're cordially invited to attend the blessed wedding of Mr. Darren Demures and his future wife, Mrs. Emma Baker. This event-"

"Wait wait wait, you're not taking his last name?" Pat asked, waving her hand, stopping Emma in her tracks.

"Uh...I mean, semantics but we won't be married yet when they are sent out so not only would it be incorrect to say it but also, no, I'm not," she replied, "Is...is that a problem? I just...it's not the 50s anymore, I like my identity, I don't wanna change my name."

"That doesn't bother you?" Pat asked, now turning her attention to Darren, who merely shrugged.

"I could care less. I'm just happy to be getting married to her at all," he said, spinning his cane around by the handle upright, smiling.

"Well...I guess you have a point," Pat said, "but I just feel like you're making things weird for other people down the line, not to mention your children. Whose last name will they be under?"

"Whichever they want, I guess," Emma said, shrugging.

Patricia sighed, shook her head and went back to stabbing at her salad. Emma had disappointed her, but what else was new. Emma was used to disappointing mothers. After all, lord knows she'd disappointed her own time and time again, so why stop a hobby this late in the game she thought. Darren leaned over and kissed the side of Emma's head, and she blushed. He knew how to make her feel better, certainly. But it was only short term. She felt so uncomfortable. She wanted to complain.

She wanted to talk to Shane.

                                                                                           ***

"You want me to help you cheat on a test?" Gus asked, sounding incredulous.

"Is that so wrong?" Mel asked, biting her lip as the two of them walked through the little garden area at the mental home.

"I just...the whole point is you're supposed to be doing the work, getting better through your own efforts, you know? If I help you with this, you'll be bypassing some of that and it won't be the same."

Melanie sighed and played with her long braided ponytail.

"The thing is, Gus, they...they want me to explain who I am," Melanie said, "they want me to explain myself, my interests and personality and whatnot through standardized testing. It's an essay test, basically. But I just...when you haven't lived most of your life as yourself, how do you explain yourself to someone else, does that make sense?"

"Far more sense than it should, actually," Gus said, sitting down on a nearby bench, Mel seating herself beside him as he sighed and ran a hand through his black hair; he asked, "you could just write about the person you'd like to become but phrase it as the person you are now. You'll be her someday anyway, so it wouldn't really be lying."

Melanie nodded and looked at a few women passing by them. She looked down at her nails and she felt her eyes watering a little.

"but what if i don't?" she asked quietly.

"What if you don't what?" Gus asked.

"What if I never become that person? What if I'm just too sick to get better?"

Gus smiled weakly and put his arm around her, pulling her to him and hugging her.

"Hey, I got news for you, you're already leagues better your highness, alright? So stop it with that mopey attitude," he said, "You will continue to get better just like you're going to ace this test no matter what, and I'm gonna help you. We're gonna create a profile of the kind of person you wanna become and pass it off as the person you have become already. That'll prove to them their efforts in you are paying off."

Melanie giggled and hugged Gus back. She really didn't know where she'd be without him, all she knew was that it'd be somewhere way worse than a mental home, and she was eternally grateful for his friendship as a result.

                                                                                              ***

"She was upset you didn't wanna take his last name?" Shane asked, raising his coffee cup to his lips and sipping, "What is this, the 50s?"

"That's what I said!" Emma said loudly, the both of them laughing.

After lunch with Darren's mother, Emma had called Shane and asked if he wanted to meet for a bit. She told Darren she was meeting someone from the school to discuss the curriculum (what curriculum, she asked herself, she teaches elementary school for god sakes, she was nothing more than a glorified babysitter to most parents), but really she went to the tucked away diner that she and Shane had been frequenting as of late.

"I just...I don't wanna give up my identity, you know? I've worked hard to become the person I am and even harder to like the person I became and I feel like losing my last name would erase some of that. Doesn't mean I love Darren any less or anything. Is that stupid or selfish? I mean he doesn't seem to care one way or the other, so."

"If he doesn't care than yeah, neither should you. And it's not stupid or selfish, everything you said was totally spot on," Shane said.

"Amazing you're related to Melanie, considering how...insightful you are," Emma said, "Oof, that came out wrong, I'm sorry."

Shane threw his head back and laughed.

"No, no it's fine! Lord knows it is hard to believe we're related, but I was always a few years older than her, and we never really seemed like siblings, so," Shane said, "but she's doing really well now, she's very clear headed and it's good to see. I'm starting to see the family resemblance myself for once, which is nice but also strange."

"You ever think about getting married?" Emma asked.

"I..." Shane looked out the window, like he was avoiding the question, and then said, "I don't think I believe enough in marriage after seeing my family fall apart. Not because my parents were bad for eachother, because they weren't, they were best friends. But watching my father die and watching my mother grieve for him...I could never put someone through that. The risk isn't worth the reward in my book. That doesn't mean I don't date or whatever, but I just feel like that's too heady a commitment to burden someone with, you know?"

"That makes total sense," Emma said, "I don't wanna have kids mainly because I didn't prevent my little sister from killing herself. Seems we both failed little sisters in a way."

Shane nodded, stirring the coffee in his cup with the little plastic stirrer as he watched it swirl, then too a sip and spoke again.

"The thing is, my sister's still here, yours isn't. There's no way of changing what happened with you, and that has to hurt so much more," Shane said, "But me? I get to watch my sister get better, and I feel incredibly grateful for that after so many years of wishing I could see just that thing happen."

Emma wanted to kiss him. She hated herself for it, and she didn't even really have a clear understanding as to why she felt this way. She loved Darren to death, she was going to marry him. But...Shane understood her in a way that Darren never could, she felt, and for that alone she felt an intense attraction to him.

"...would you ever want children?" Emma asked, and Shane hesitated again before answering.

"I like the idea of leaving a part of me behind, sure, creating a new person that the world could enjoy, but it's scary," Shane said, "So who knows if it'll ever happen. I wasn't very good at being a brother, so why should I believe I'd be any better at being a father?"

Emma could see Shane was hurting. She could tell from the way his eyes moved that he wanted to talk about it more, but she didn't want to push it, so instead she said nothing. She picked up her fork and start cutting into her piece of pie they'd ordered, eating a few bites before setting her fork back down and looking back at him.

"I think you're a very good man," she said firmly, "and any woman, wife or daughter, would be lucky to have you."

Shane smiled.

"Thank you," he said, "And I think you'll make a terrific bride, Emma Baker."

They each grabbed their coffee cups and clinked their glasses together, laughing as they did so. It wasn't much, but it was enough of a respite from her everyday life, and she appreciated that.

                                                                                                    ***

Melanie and Gus were seated in her room with a pad of paper and some pens, trying to come up with a personality that Melanie would want to have. Gus was sitting on a chair while Melanie laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Gus crossed his legs, tapped the pen on the pad and sighed.

"Come on, your highness, we don't got much time to work this thing out," he said, "We need something now. Think about the people you like the most, the women you most admire, and what traits you'd like to take from them and make your own. That's what a lot of personality is anyway, just stealing things you like about other people and turning them into things you like about yourself."

"I like how understanding my mom is," Melanie said, "She fought so hard for me when I was a kid, and that in turn makes me wanna fight so hard for the people I care about. Or maybe Bea. She doesn't care what anyone thinks about her, and she does whatever she wants. She's the coolest person we know. I wanna have that level of confidence."

"My girlfriend is pretty rad," Gus said, chuckling as he scribbled all this down quickly on the pad.

"Emma," Mel said, catching Gus's attention, his head snapping back up.

"What about her?" he asked.

"She's..."

Melanie was lost for words. She knew what she liked about Emma, she just didn't know how to say it out loud.

"She's so..."

Her mind went blank again. A few moments passed and then it hit her.

"She's so sure of who she is and sticks to her beliefs. That isn't the same as Bea, either. Bea just doesn't care what others think about her. But Emma...she knows what she believes in, and she sticks to that, and that...god that's admirable. I wanna be like that," Melanie said, looking up and seeing Gus writing on the pad as she climbed off the bed and walked around behind him, looking at what was written down.

"Those are all good," Gus said, "I think we have a pretty solid foundation for a personality here, honestly."

"What is that?" Melanie asked, pointing to the pad as Gus lowered his voice.

"That's a doodle of me as a cowboy," he said.

                                                                                              ***

"I hope that didn't upset you too much," Darren said, sitting at the kitchen table prying open the pizza box as Emma brought them each a beer from the fridge.

"Naw, I understand where your mom's coming from," she said, sitting down across from him as he pulled out a slice and plopped it on the paper plate in front of him. Emma opened the beers and slid one across the table to him as she added, "Honestly, she's from a generation where that's what they did, so it's totally understandable for her to expect that to continue, and for many women it does. That's fine. That's their choice. I just don't wanna do it."

"I know your reasons, I understand, and frankly like I said I could care less," Darren said, grabbing and tearing open a cheese packet, sprinkling it on top of the pizza as he said, "I don't want some weird ownership bullshit, you know? I think that was a thing because women were supposed to be the 'property' of their husband, and you're not my property."

Emma smiled as she sipped her beer, then grabbed a slice from the box for herself as Darren bit into his pizza and chewed. She loved how understanding and forward thinking Darren was. That was perhaps the thing she liked most about him. They felt like true equals, and she felt incredibly lucky to have a man that confident in himself to not feel as though he were being overshadowed by his girlfriend, or now, fiance.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wished she could be having this conversation with Shane instead. Something about the way he understood her, on a fundamental level that Darren didn't seem to, really tugged at her. Emma shook her head and tried to ignore it, focusing instead on dinner.

"Besides, my mom isn't one to talk about the sanctity of marriage," Darren said, "Not when my father turned out to be such a bastard."

"Amen, man," Emma said.

                                                                                                 ***

Melanie was sitting in her room, on her bed, looking at the book Darren had given her when the door opened and a male nurse let Gus into the room. He shut the door once Gus was inside, and Gus slid his hands into his pockets as he sat at the desk chair.

"So?" he asked, "How'd it go?"

The 'test' Mel was meant to take to gauge her personality had been a few days ago by now, and she had taken everything she and Gus had come up with and used it to create, what he'd said, a foundation for herself. Melanie sighed, put the book down to her side and looked up at him.

"Uh oh," Gus said, "That doesn't sound good."

"It went fine," Mel said, "but...afterwards I did question whether that was the right thing to do. I mean, shouldn't I try to create something for myself instead of stealing traits from other people?"

Gus turned the desk chair around and sat in it backwards, looking at her as he cleared his throat.

"Let me tell you something," he said.

"What are you, a cool pastoral counselor?"

"Shut up and listen," he said, "When I was a kid, there was this older kid at my school. His name was Jose. Jose was a handful of years older than me, but we saw eachother around school quite a bit to the point where we became friendly towards one another. Jose was cool. Jose wasn't ashamed for the stuff he liked and that was important because the stuff he liked wasn't inherently 'manly' and, I don't know how to put this but in Mexican culture we've got a huge toxic masculinity problem, so that was very brave of him. In turn, that made me not worry about the things I liked. That's all we are, as human beings, Mel, are amalgamations of the people who most like or who have the most profound impact on us. Those are what make us us."

Melanie chewed her lip and thought about his. Gus was right, she couldn't deny it, but she still wanted to create her own persona. A real persona. Not a fairytale one.

"I suppose it's true," she said softly, "...is that why you wanted to be a cowboy?"

"Hey, don't bring Rootin' Tootin' Roundup Gus into this, this is about you," he said, the both of them laughing now.

Melanie had picked things out from the women she knew and admired, but in reality, the one person she admired most was Gus. The ability to make her laugh when she felt her worst was a trait she really wanted to make her own, and she knew he'd be flattered at that. Sure, the women were important. But it was Gus who had had the most profound impact. She'd never him that though, it'd embarrass him too much, and she figured when she wanted to embarrass him, she'd wait until they were in a more public situation with people knew. Not because it was a mean thing to do, but because she knew he'd find the humor in it.

He had been her jester, after all.