"You what?" Fletcher asked.

"I need you to catch a snake," Nelly repeated herself.

"I'm...I'm a zookeeper, not a hunter," Fletcher said, "you do know what you hired me for, right? Hunting dangerous game was certainly NOT on my resume."

They were standing in the break room, the others sitting at the table, as Nelly and Fletcher had this conversation. Nelly sighed, rubbed her forehead, and poured herself a new cup of coffee from the pot on the counter. She sipped a bit before turning and leaning against the cabinets, looking at everyone.

"It's a bad look when a dangerous animal is loose in a zoo. For fucks sake, you guys, our one and only goal is to keep them in habitats. It makes us look incompetent if we can't even do the one thing expected of us from the public. I need you guys to catch him, real fast."

"Which snake is it?" Harvey asked, biting into his granola bar.

"It's..." Nelly said, pausing, lowering her head and whispering, "it's The Violator."

"Excuse me?!" Fletcher shouted, "you want us to catch something named The Violator? Look, there's 3 things I know never to approach in life, and those are underage girls, houses that have too many lawn ornaments, and giant fucking snakes."

"Maybe it isn't that dangerous," Casper said, shrugging.

"It's name is The Violator, Casper, that's the name of a pro wrestler," Fletcher said, "or, like, a Russian assassin."

"It won't be difficult. We have tranquilizer darts for this sort of situation," Nelly said, "actually, the harder part will be moving him once you've captured him, since he's 200 pounds and 20 feet long."

A hush fell over the room.

"...pardon?" Casper asked.

"He's a Python. He's a new arrival, that's why this happened. The idiots who work over in the relocation zone didn't properly check his habitat for any possible ways he could escape. They just figured he would stay on the ground, not climb into a tree and out an air vent. It was just a mistake, but I need you guys to get him for me. But you have to not alert the guests, okay, they cannot know that there's a loose giant Python in the zoo."

"Listen to me," Fletcher said, "you wanna catch a giant snake, you hire Steve Irwin. You want some help moving a couch, you call someone else because I'm not doing that either. Frankly, I'm a selfish person, and I think in this instance my selfishness justifies my lack of interest in attempting to capture this thing. What if it eats me?"

"It can't eat all of you at once," Casper said, as Fletcher shot him a look.

"That is NOT the helpful sentiment you think it is. 'Oh don't worry, you'll be digested slowly', yeah, real comforting," Fletcher said.

"Well, you guys don't have a choice, because I'm your boss, and this is what I'm telling you to do. We have temp tour guides right now filling in for you, so you don't have to worry, and in fact you'll get paid extra for this, so it all works out I feel," Nelly said as she got up from the cabinets and headed towards the door.

"Why do I have to do it?!" Fletcher shouted as Nelly opened the door and stood there, thinking.

"...because you make me angry," she said, before exiting and shutting the door behind her.

"...alright, well," Fletcher said, "I can't really argue with that reasoning."

                                                                                                         ***

Robin was pacing back and forth anxiously outside the gate near the parking lot, waiting for Sophie to arrive. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she saw Sophie's car pull in and park. Sophie climbed out and locked her car before stopping upon seeing Robin. Both smiled, blushing, as Sophie approached her.

"I didn't know I was worthy enough to-" Sophie started, but before she could even finish, Robin had grabbed her face and kissed her, making her giggle even more; after the kiss, Sophie added, "wow, is this the kind of treatment I'm welcome to every day now?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Robin said, "and I'm...I'm not used to that. I mean, I've had relationships, but...I've never been the sort of woman to go gaga over someone, you know? Where they just...they consume all of your waking thoughts? But you...I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to see you."

"Wow..." Sophie said, "that's...intense."

"I'm sorry," Robin said.

"No no, I like it," Sophie said, smiling, lacing her fingers through Robin's and squeezing gently, "It was...it was so nice kissing you the other day. I've never kissed anyone, and so it was, um, kind of a new experience and-"

"Wait, you've never kissed anyone? Like anybody at all? Like not a single other person?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, that's...that's kinda what I meant by that statement," Sophie replied, laughing, "does that...bother you?"

"No, I'm just surprised, that's all," Robin said.

"I'm not a very outgoing person," Sophie said, shrugging, "Ya know, I...I live at home, with my parents, and I don't really socialize outside of work and, well, even at work you're one of the only people I socialize with and...it just never happened. Plus I just...never got the chance. Nobody's ever seemed to be interested in me."

"I'm very interested in you," Robin blurted out, making Sophie laugh again, as Robin quickly adding, stammering nervously, "I mean, god, I'm so not good at this kind of thing. I've never felt anything for a woman before. But when you kissed me, it was like...it was like I'd been kissing wrong the whole time throughout my life. I suddenly enjoyed it. I wanted more."

"...you know I'm nothing special, right?" Sophie asked.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I mean, I'm a janitor basically, and I...I'm not very smart, and...and not much to look at and I can't really see why anyone would want to-"

"Sophie, hey, don't...don't talk about yourself like that. Your job doesn't matter to me at all, and as for being smart, you're super insightful and as for being pretty, oh man, you are like watching a sunset come to life. All the things you might not like about yourself I love."

Sophie blushed and pushed her face into Robin's chest, letting Robin stroke her hair.

"I know it's scary," Robin said, "it's scary for me too, but...I wanna try at least."

Sophie didn't say a word. She just nodded eagerly in response.

                                                                                                          ***

"Where the hell is everyone?" Robin asked as she and Sophie entered the breakroom, only to find nobody there. Robin set her bag and other items down on the round table in the center of the room as Sophie leaned against the wall, confused. Suddenly Casper entered and everyone stopped to look at one another. After a moment of awkward and confusing silence, Robin spoke.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Zoo is shut down today," Casper said, "you two need to come with me. Fletcher, Harvey and Nelly are already on a hunt, so we're the other group."

"The hunt? What...what are we hunting?" Robin asked as Casper opened a cabinet, pulled out some dart guns and handed Sophie and Robin each one before loading his own and cocking it.

"We're hunting a 200 pound, 20 foot long Python named The Violator," Casper said, "so lock and load ladies."

"I just love coming to work," Robin said, making Sophie laugh, as they each loaded their guns and followed Casper back out to the main roundabout of the zoo. Once outside, they stopped and looked around; Robin cleared her throat and asked, "so, if I were a giant, murderous Python, where would I be?"

"That is the million dollar question," Casper said.

"So do I really get a million dollars if I figure out the answer? Cause I'll wrestle a Python for a million dollars," Sophie said.

"Their diet consists primarily of rodents, birds, lizards, and mammals like monkeys, wallabies, pigs, or antelope, so honestly the options for their whereabouts of seemingly endless," Casper said, "Considering the rodents, birds and lizards are essentially in closed off habitats, a lot of them in plain glass enclosures, I vote we make tracks for the mammals."

"A Python can eat an Antelope?" Robin asked, "christ that's terrifying."

"Gives whole new meaning to 'I'm so hungry I could eat a horse'," Sophie said, she and Robin laughing until she asked, "wait, are Antelopes related to horses? Am I just dumb?"

"The thing we really need to be aware of is that it could likely be hunting any of us as well, so that's why it's important to say together in a group like this," Casper said, "so always have your back to a wall if you can, and always keep one another in your immediate sights."

"Why do you sound like you've done this before?" Robin asked, "you don't regularly go hunting giant snakes in the Amazon or something, do you?"

"What I do on my own time is my personal business," Casper replied, "now we got a snake to hunt."

                                                                                                        ***

Fletcher, Nelly and Harvey had found themselves holed up in the Prairie Dog habitat, seeing as it was the only 'rodent' one that was not entirely enclosed and was something The Violator could get into. Nelly was sitting on the ground against the wall behind the brush, with Harvey and Fletcher, as she chewed on her nails, her tranq gun in her lap.

"I can't even imagine eating a prairie dog," Nelly said, "that just isn't a creature I'd ever even entertain consuming."

"What you and I find unacceptable, others consider a culinary delicacy," Harvey said, checking the sights on his gun, "kind of like how the Japanese will eat Dolphin. We see it as an awful thing, but that's just a part of their cultural  heritage. Who are we to judge."

"Uh, we're superior moral Americans, that's who," Fletcher said, "I'll judge a mother fucker for anything, you watch."

"Yeah, we're aware," Nelly said, "you guys, I don't think he's gonna show in here."

"Well then where do you suggest we post up?" Fletcher asked, sounding annoyed, "look, Nell, you asked me to do this, and I'm doing it my way. You wanna go off on your own like some kind of snake bounty hunter, be my guests, but this is, I promise you, the most accurate place he could show up. Easy target, and lots of 'em to choose from. Plus he can slither down into their burrows. This is the spot."

Nelly wanted to argue with him, but...Fletcher kind of had a point. And, as he said, she had entrusted him with this endeavor. He was already doing more than he normally would for her, even with her being his boss, but still, he was notoriously difficult to work with and yet...here he was, not only doing exactly what was asked of him, but taking it seriously to boot. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair as Nelly looked up towards him.

"It couldn't hurt to check elsewhere," Nelly said.

"Yeah but we need to be in groups of 3, because someone going off on their own makes them a target, isolated and easy," Harvey said, "we need you here, Nell."

Nelly smiled weakly. Well, she thought, if nothing else, at least this event was making them appreciate her company.

Meanwhile, off near the Antelope enclosure, Casper, Sophie and Robin were approaching, Casper leading the pack a few feet ahead of them. Sophie leaned into Robin and whispered.

"So, about everything in the parking lot," she said, "you know, about you and me and us and-"

"We'll have plenty of time discussing that when we're not in the middle of a literal b-horror movie," Robin whispered back.

"I know, I know, I just...I need clarification," Sophie said, and Robin stopped, looking at her now, as this sounded serious; Sophie exhaled, blinked a few times, then asked, "because...because others have expressed interest on rare occasions, and then they always take it back. Like...once they see me, who I am and what I'm like, they completely withdraw their interest and I just don't think I can handle that again, so-"

"Sophie, hey," Robin sad, putting one hand on her face, the other holding her gun, "hey, listen to me, okay? That is shitty that people do that, but I'm not that kind of person. When I truly like someone, I like them until they tell me to fuck off, so you're kinda stuck with me, partially cause I'm very much into you and partially because we work together. So unless you directly tell me you don't want anything to do with me, platonically, romantically or otherwise, you're gonna get a lot of kisses."

Sophie giggled and blushed as Robin leaned in and pecked her on the nose.

"Hey!" Casper whispered back at them, "over here, check this out!"

The girls ran up to join him, only to see The Violator hanging from a tree inside, of all things, the Crocodile habitat. Robin bit her lip and inhaled violently.

"Well that isn't good," she said coldly.

                                                                                                          ***

"Well, let's pack it in, I guess, maybe hit another possible location," Fletcher said, sounding immensely disappointed. He gathered up the groups belongings and, as Harvey punched in the code to the door that allowed them to exit, Nelly walked right beside him, hand on his back.

"Look, sometimes things don't go the way you plan or expect, it's not your fault. You're dealing with an intelligent and dangerous wild animal here," she said, "so try to cut yourself a little bit of slack, okay?"

"Guys, it's Casper," the radio on Nelly's hip rang out, "you need to get over to the Crocodile pen. We have a situation."

And within minutes, Nelly, Fletcher and Harvey all had gathered into a little cart and zoomed on over there. They found Casper, Robin and Sophie waiting outside the habitat, and Fletcher jumped out before Harvey had even parked, rushing up to the ground, gun at the ready. Casper turned to greet him as he did.

"Whoa, calm down there, Rambo," Robin said upon approach.

"He's in there?" Fletcher asked, and Casper pointed to him.

"Yeah, he's right up there," he said, "I don't know if he's just relaxing, or if he's, like, secretly plotting something, but-"

Just then The Violator unclenched itself from around the branch it had taken hold of, and dropped onto an unsuspecting baby Crocodile underneath. The water splashed as the two animals began thrashing violently, and Sophie screamed in surprise. Fletcher turned and grabbed Casper by the shoulder, looking into his eyes.

"I'm goin' in," he said, "if I don't come back, tell my mom I love her."

"I don't even know your family," Casper said.

"Find my mom and tell her she meant the world to me," Fletcher said, holding his gun up.

"That sounds like a lot of effort, honestly," Casper replied.

"Then just...send a postcard to her," Fletcher said, annoyed, before climbing over the fence and into the habitat. He clung onto the branch with one arm before dropping on top of the two creatures, causing everyone to scream. The water splashed more, and for a few minutes, nobody could really make heads or tails of anything they were witnessing, it was all just a watery blur of scales and skin. After a few minutes, however, they heard the sound of the gun go off and then everything went quiet. Three shots had been fired in total. After another minute or two, Fletcher emerged from the water, the Python over his shoulder like a prized kill, the Crocodile floating gently against the shore of its habitat. At the sight of him, everyone broke into cheers.

"Goddamn man, you're like an action hero!" Casper shouted.

"Fletcher, I'm giving you a promotion!" Nelly yelled, at which he saluted.

"Okay I have two problems," Fletcher said, "the first is I can't possibly carry this sucker up the enbankment and back to zoo grounds, and the second is I shot myself and I think I'm passing out."

And with that, he fell to the ground.

                                                                                                              ***

Fletcher was laying on a cot in the break room with Nelly watching over him as everyone gathered their things to prepare to head home for the day. On account of all that had happened, it was a short day, and after the excitement, Nelly figured it was fair to just give everyone some paid time off, along with the extra pay for the activity itself. Robin and Sophie walked out first, while Casper went back to his own space to gather his things. Harvey, however, stayed behind, sitting at the table, watching Nelly.

"He was a hell of a guy today," Harvey said.

"He really was," Nelly replied, "he may not be my favorite employee, but damn if it he's the best for some things."

"Awww, you play favorites?" Harvey asked playfully, making her smirk.

"Well, you know, it is like raising children," Nelly said.

"Hey, I resent that! I am not a child! I am a teenager, or young adult at the very  least," Harvey remarked, making them both laugh; he took a sip from his water bottle then added, "so you're gonna stay here til he wakes up?"

"Might honestly just crash here," Nelly said, "don't really feel like going home. Apartment's been hell lately. Lots of construction outside, the woman above me just had a baby, and the couple below me is a newlywed fucking like rabbits. Between it all I'm mad about not getting laid and not getting sleep and frankly I'm not sure which one I'm angrier about if we're being honest."

"That is a shame," Harvey said, capping his bottle, standing up and pulling his coat on, adding, "well, if you ever need help with anything, you have my number."

"...help with what, exactly?" Nelly asked, and Harvey shrugged.

"Finding a new place maybe? My cousin works in real estate, he could get you a nice little house to rent," Harvey said, "or just some company, I don't know. I'm just sayin' I'm here for you, Nell, that's all, don't make it more than it is."

Harvey patted her on the shoulder, smiled at her and exited. But Nelly did want to make it more than it was. She'd admired Harvey from a distance for a number of years now, finding him level headed, down to earth and attractive. Sometimes she'd lay in bed and fantasize about inviting him over, making dinner with him, and then taking him right on the couch in her little apartment. Maybe she was just so deprived of intimacy that anyone would do, but Harvey was her suitor of choice. Still, he'd never go for it, she felt, and why eat where you shit, right? Fletcher rustled on the cot and mumbled.

"Mommy," he said, "can I have some chocolate milk?"

Nelly ran her hands through his hair and laughed. Oh yeah, she thought, she was gonna hold this one over him for a long time. Meanwhile, Robin and Sophie reached their respective vehicles in the parking lot and stopped.

"Do you want to go do something? My...roommate...isn't going to be home for a while and I'd rather not be alone," Robin said.

"I'd like to, but my folks always want me to come home right away," Sophie said, looking at her fingernails anxiously; she then exhaled and said, "um...maybe after they've gone to bed, we can go out to dinner?"

"I'd like that," Robin said, unsure of what excuse she'd use on Kyle for her not being available, but he didn't know the zoo was having an off day, so she'd just say she was working late; Robin leaned in and kissed Sophie on the forehead, then added, "I'll wait for you, you're worth it."

"...why are you so nice to me, I don't understand," Sophie whispered, almost sounding hurt.

"Have others not been? I mean, I know they haven't, but...why wouldn't I be?" Robin asked, and Sophie leaned in and buried her face in Robins chest, crying. Robin didn't understand, but she just held her and stroked her hair. Sophie was clearly damaged, and after some time Robin figured the answer for her baggage would come out, but right now she was just happy to be a place of comfort and safety for the girl she was falling for. Much like they'd hunted The Violator, Sophie had been hunting for years for someone who understood and accepted her. She never figured she'd find that person at work, though.

Who says your job is good for nothing.

The Hutch was Douglas's domain, but Douglas had been out sick for weeks now and thusly the job had fallen to Robin, despite not knowing a damn thing about butterflies. But this was a very popular school trip, kids coming into The Hutch during butterfly mating season, and Robin, being the most approachable member - something they discovered through a comment card system Nelly had implemented that had done a wreck on everyone's self-worth as performers - seemed to be the obvious choice for the job, especially seeing as she had no Miss Gazelle tours to give today. So, Robin was given the uniform for The Hutch, a pair of black slacks and an orange button down shirt to simulate the visual look of Monarch butterflies, and was sent on over via golf cart to do the job.

"This is an outrage, I've been gunning for The Hutch for so long," Harvey said as he drove Robin on over to the small hill that lead up to the building; he continued, "I just hope you enjoy doing it, it's one of the cushier gigs, all things considered."

"Definitely no danger involved, that's for damn sure," Robin said, opening the wrapper to her breakfast burrito and biting into it.

"Unless, somehow, the butterflies become introduced to a toxic radioactive waste and then grow ten times their size and start to destroy entire cities, but when has that ever happened except for that one time?" Harvey said, making Robin laugh. Harvey wasn't someone Robin got to spend a tremendous amount of time with, but she really did like him. He was calm, cool, collected, level-headed. She loved how ordinary and milquetoast he was in comparison to someone like Fletcher, for instance. As the cart came to a stop outside The Hutch, and Robin climbed out, tossing her wrapper in a nearby trash can, she turned and looked back at Harvey, who pushed his glasses up his face with his index finger.

"For what it's worth, you look good in the uniform, the colors really suit you," he said, and Robin smiled.

"Yeah, well, let's hope it's not permanent. I don't mind doing it a few times, but it isn't the area I want to be in," she replied, waving at him as she headed up the long and winding railed in pathway that led to the front doors. While doing so, she heard the sound of shoes coming up behind her and turned to see Sophie, then looked down at her shoes. She was wearing big clunky sneakers with velcro straps and a sweater that seemed about two sizes too large.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked, and Sophie smiled, stuffing her hands in her large sweater front pocket.

"I heard you were doing The Hutch today, so I thought I'd come see and help," Sophie said.

"Wow, word travels fast," Robin mumbled.

Together the two girls approached the door, where the crowd of kids and their chaperones were, and Robin unlocked the door while Sophie stood by her side. She wouldn't tell anyone this, but there was another reason Sophie loved the Hutch, and that was because of her sister.

                                                                                                          ***

The migration of the monarchs was something Sophie loved doing every single year, and it was something she and her sister attended every time. From the time Sophie was about 5, her sister, Olivia (who was roughly 7 years older than her) always took her to the nearest spot by their house that managed to see the migration. It was always something Sophie looked forward to, because she loved the colors of the wings against the bright blue sky. The orange mixing with the whites of the clouds and the blue of the sky, it always made her feel as if there was actually magic in the world. But...

...as her sister got older, however, it became harder and harder to get up to that spot. First it was just the exhaustion that made the trek up the hill tire Olivia out. Then it became tougher when she had to drag the oxygen tank behind her. Before long, the trek was made with Sophie pushing Olivia in a wheelchair while she struggled to breath through her face mask. But every year they made the trek, and every year they were both so happy they did. Every year it was something they could do together.

Until the year they couldn't.

                                                                                                      ***

The nice thing about The Hutch, which Robin hadn't been aware of, was that it was very easy to present. The kids were instantly in awe of the inside, of the massive amount of butterflies, and honestly, most of her presenting was merely restating facts about monarchs, about their migration, about the building itself and its purpose. Didn't take long before the kids were off on their own, simply enjoying the space and the creatures there within. Robin sat on one of the benches placed throughout the exhibit, Sophie beside her, sitting cross-legged and looking up at the butterflies, smiling. Robin sipped from her coffee cup and glanced over. The way the light came through the tinted ceiling glass made Sophie's face appear so beautiful in a way she hadn't expected. Her short, curly blonde hair and her small hands peeking out the enormous cuffs of her oversized sweater. Robin felt her heart skip a beat.

"It's beautiful in here," Sophie mumbled.

"No argument here," Robin replied, lifting her coffee cup to her lips.

The thing was...Robin had never once had a crush on a girl. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had like the older girl who had helped make her costume for a play in school, but she didn't know why at the time. In hindsight, now, it made a lot more sense. But other than that, she'd rarely ever felt anything for a girl, and that was weird, considering every boy she'd ever been with had felt awkward and wrong. But being with Sophie? That felt so normal. So ordinary. So...right.

"I used to go see the migrations with my sister," Sophie said, smiling.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Robin said.

"Had being the operative word," Sophie remarked, "but they're still nice memories, in spite of it all."

Robin decided not to push further. This was clearly a nice thing for Sophie, and why should she ruin it for her by asking questions Sophie might not want to answer. Sophie sighed and tossed her hair a little, clearly just to redistribute its weight, while Robin continued drinking.

"I love butterflies," Sophie said, "anything transformative is amazing. Proof that, no matter what, no matter how low you start out, you can always improve and become something so much more beautiful."

"Kinda like the ugly duckling, but, ya know...with insects," Robin said and Sophie chuckled.

"Kind of, I guess," she replied, "I just think it's neat, proves that the world isn't automatically static. That it's ever evolving, with or without your participation. That is just so exciting. Scary, but also exciting. Knowing there's always a new, different challenge coming down the road, like, so interesting and fun to look forward to. I hate change but I also embrace it. It's a weird combination."

Robin nodded, listening. Sophie seemed so smart, so deep and philosophical, and she would soon learn that the way Sophie presented herself was somewhat of a facade, because, well...much like people adapt to the future and to changes, Sophie herself had adapted to a life without her sister, and she'd done this primarily by taking her identity for her own. The way she saw it, if she could live on as her sister, then her sister wasn't really gone.

                                                                                                      ***

Sophie still went to the spot to watch the migration, but it wasn't the same.

By herself, or occasionally with her father, whatever the outing might consist of, it was never the same. Her sisters enthusiasm at the event was now replaced by stoic silence, and as much as Sophie herself loved the migration, she just couldn't muster up that same level of enthusiasm, regardless of whether her sister were there or not. It wasn't fair, she thought. She deserved to still be here, to still see this. Sophie knew butterflies were all about metamorphosis, and it was then that the idea hit her. Take all the best traits and aspects of her sister and apply them to herself.

The way she saw it, this decision had a twofold outcome. The first being that her sister would still, in some small way, continue to persist in the universe, albeit through the face of another person. The second, well...the second was that, maybe, just maybe, if Sophie were a little bit more like her sister, her parents would love her as much as they had her. Either way, it was a win/win situation, as far as she felt. But the thing is, and Sophie learned this rather quickly, the traits she might admire in her sister aren't necessarily the traits everyone else had seemed to admire in her sister. Meaning that, despite somewhat taking on her identity, her parents still saw her as Sophie. But she decided it was more important to do what was best for her than to attempt to win their favor. Maybe, one day, they would come around, and that would be a nice surprise, but until then, she was determined to keep her sister alive in any way she could.

So she continued coming to the yearly migration, and as such, she loved visiting The Hutch on the Zoo grounds whenever she could. And to sit here today, with a woman she felt safe with, well nothing could be closer to perfection. To witness beauty next to beauty...

...that was all she ever wanted.

                                                                                                         ***

Robin and Sophie were walking through the atrium, admiring the plants, the butterflies flittering about around them, the children running around and having a great time. Robin suddenly didn't feel like this was such a burden, actually, and she almost felt as though she'd miss doing it when this day was done. They stopped as Sophie knelt down and picked up a butterfly off the ground, holding its dead body in her open palm. Robin stopped and looked down at it as well.

"There's something about a dead butterfly that's super poetic," Sophie said, "but I have no idea what that might be. Someone smarter than me, I'm sure, could come up with something though."

"It has such beautiful wings," Robin said, reaching out and gently touching them with her fingertips.

"The colors are the best part," Sophie said, "it's what draws your eye to it. The orange and black. I always thought it was pretty. But humans are simple creatures, we see bright colors and we go all stupid."

Robin chuckled as she carefully scooped the butterfly from Sophie's palm into her own, and then, reaching out, pressed it to the side of her head, near her ear, pushing her hair back. Robin then, holding it there with one hand, pulled a bobby pin from her own hair and attached it to the butterfly, clipping it to Sophie's hair. Sophie stared ahead at Robin, her eyes wide. A few kids rushed by them, a chaperone right on their heels, but they barely seemed to notice. Robin smiled at Sophie, who reached out with one hand and placed it on Robin's cheek. Robin shut her eyes, her lips quivering at the soft touch of skin on skin, and she only opened her eyes because Sophie had leaned in and pressed her lips to hers. Robin stood there, in total shock, before putting her hands on Sophie's face and kissing her back.

And for the first time in her entire life...kissing someone actually made sense to Robin.

After they pulled apart, Sophie looked down at her shoes and quietly apologized, mumbling, making Robin laugh.

"Why are you apologizing?" Robin asked, "that...that's all I've wanted to do with you for, like, days now."

"Because it isn't bad enough to have a dead sister, or to be mentally challenged," Sophie said, taking Robin further by surprise with these vague admissions, as she added, "but to add this to the list of things my parents can hate me for...that's scary. But..."

Sophie looked up again, her and Robin's eyes locking, Robin smiling gently, cocking her head to the side like a curious puppy.

"...but you're so  pretty," Sophie whispered, "something as pretty as butterflies can't be something someone can hate you for loving."

"Loving?" Robin asked, giggling.

"That...that was maybe...um," Sophie said, trying to backpeddle, but Robin just leaned in and kissed her again, her forehead resting on Sophie's.

"No, it was the right word," she whispered.

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, in The Hutch, with butterflies floating gently all around them, kissing carefully, and both finally feeling as if they belonged. All in all, Harvey had been right. This was a pretty nice gig.

                                                                                                               ***

"Do you ever get work crushes?" Robin asked, as Kyle plopped himself down on the couch and lifted his feet up on the coffee table, unmuting the TV before beginning to eat. He thought for a minute while he chewed, and then nodded.

"Yeah, there was this one stage hand on this commercial I did a few weeks ago, and she was stunning," Kyle said, "like, out of this world unearthly beautiful, you know? The kind of, like, ethereal angelic looks you only see in lingerie models."

"Okay, I'm ugly, rub it in," Robin said, both of them laughing.

"But," Kyle said, chewing, "while I'm capable of posessing the ability to appreciate beauty from afar in my periphery, there's a big difference between aesthetic attraction and genuine love, you know? Like, sure, she was hot, way hot, some would say smokin' hot, even-"

"Dude, I'm sitting right here," Robin replied.

"-but it's not the same attraction as I have for you," Kyle said, taking Robin by surprise as he rarely spoke openly about how he felt about what they had; he swallowed and continued, "like, there's a familiarity in knowing I get to come home to someone, you know? Someone who's not gonna judge me. Someone who's just happy to see me after a long day. That, to me, is actual attraction. I appreciate that far more than just some hot ass stage hand."

Robin nervously picked at her food, thinking about the kiss she and Sophie shared that afternoon.

"Besides," Kyle said, "acknowledging hotness is nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone does it. Doesn't mean you have intentions to act on it, you know? You're a good person, Robin, that's why I fell for you. Cause you're not the kind of person to hurt others. If anything, you go out of your way to do the opposite, and I know you'd never hurt me."

Robin nodded solemnly, finally spearing a piece of broccoli.

"...yeah," she said, lifting her fork to her lips, "I wouldn't."

Lying in bed that night after dinner, Kyle completely asleep and sawing logs beside her, Robin couldn't help but stare at the ceiling overhead and replay that kiss in her minds eye over and over and over again. Kyle had been a good partner, he'd been understanding and supportive and fun to be with, but...but something had always felt somewhat off about their relationship and Robin could never manage to place what it was until now. Now she knew. He wasn't a woman. She rolled onto her side, grabbed her phone from the bedside table and looked up Sophie's name in a search engine, leading her to a social media app for photos, which she instantly clicked through to. Soon her face was illuminated by the bright light of the phone, and she couldn't stop smiling. But Sophie had also made a valid point. This would be something she would be hated for, by Kyle, maybe even her parents. Was the act of loving another woman worth that much pain? Loss? Grief?

That was the question Robin needed to answer.

"You know, it's a little depressing that these animals live in better conditions than I do," Casper said, as he lugged a bucket of mixed feed into the habitat, Robin and Sophie chuckling at his statement as they followed him in. It was the end of the workday, and it was feeding time for everyone. Usually everyone had their own scheduled feedings that they were responsible for, but there was one animal in the zoo that everyone had to switch off on taking care of, and that was Leonard, the Goose.

"Well, maybe you should try harder and not be such a loser," Robin said, making Casper chuckle.

"Gee, thanks mom," he replied, "god this thing is heavy."

"You can't just dump it? You have to put it into the trough?" Robin asked, as Sophie shut and locked the electronic doors behind them. Casper sighed and scratched his forehead as he continued to carry the bucket further, the girls on his heels.

"Yeah, he's fuckin' picky, he won't eat unless it's where he likes it," Casper said, "but it's a quick feeding, in and out, like 2 minutes max. As long as he doesn't harrass us and usually he doesn't, so long as we don't invade his space too long."

Sophie was chewing on a necklace that appeared to be made of silicone, and Robin was watching cautiously, so as not to arouse suspicion. After a bit, Robin looked back at Casper, who had finally successfully managed to dump the enormous heavy bucket of mixed feed into the trough, check the water supply, and then wipe his hands on his pants. He wasn't wrong, it really was a quick feeding. The group headed back for the main doors to the habitat.

"What happens if you invade his space too long?" Robin asked.

"You don't wanna know," Casper replied, making her laugh. Suddenly, there was a large popping sound, and the lights went out. After a moment, the emergency dimmer lights came on, and the three of them looked around at one another, confused as to what just happened. Casper walked briskly to the door and tried to enter the number into the keypad, but to no avail. Not only did it not take any numbers, but the door remained jammed shut. Everything in this zoo was electronic, very secure, something Nelly felt strongly about, but this meant...

"Power snapped," Casper said, "we're stuck in here."

From somewhere in the back of the habitat, they heard a soft honking noise, and all turned towards it.

"It's Leonard," Sophie whispered.

"I get the feeling we're gonna invade his space," Robin said.

                                                                                                            ***

Nelly was the one who had devised the schedule for Leonard's feedings, much to the disappointment but understanding of everyone else. After all, after what had happened to Andy, it only felt right to ensure it didn't happen again. And seeing as this was Robin's third week here now, she was assigned to help Casper, if only because she would eventually be expected to feed Leonard herself, so she should know the ins and outs of the situation. Sophie, on the other hand, just happened to be in the area when they were heading to the habitat, and decided to join them. Robin asked around, wondering what had happened to Andy, but nobody would talk about it, which only piqued her interest all the more. Why the mystique? Did Leonard somehow kill a zookeeper? The intrigue fascinated her.

When she was a little girl, she used to go to a nearby park with a pond with her favorite aunt, and together they would feed the birds. This was a ritual she loved, and looked forward to, memories she held dearly to her heart. There were ducks, pigeons, swans, and of course some geese. So it wasn't like Robin was unfamiliar with birds - for god sakes she'd been named after one, albeit not intentionally or anything, her mother just thought it was pretty - because she spent a good amount of time down at this park pond feeding them. Her aunt, Minnie, used to say "birds are the last connection we have to the old world", and what she meant by this was their relation to dinosaurs. She wanted people to appreciate that something had survived so well, so long, had managed to adapt to the new world with seemingly such ease, something Robin wish she could do herself.

The very first play Robin ever wrote herself and performed in was a one woman story about a little crow, and it was for an audience of one, her Aunt Minnie, who loved it and supported to the ends of the earth. So why should she be scared of a Goose? Well, at this point. Robin was scared of everything, especially her own fear, which was the saddest part.

                                                                                                            ***

Another lone honk in the night and Sophie buried her face in the crook between Robin's neck and shoulder as Robin rubbed her back. Sophie seemed especially frightened, and Robin wasn't above giving her reassurance as Casper toyed with the keypad. Robin glanced from Sophie up at Casper, who looked down at her and exhaled, shaking his head.

"We're trapped, we're not getting out until either someone comes by and has the override key or the power comes back on," Casper said, shutting the little hatch door to the keypad, "and that could be hours for either."

Robin ran her fingers up into Sophie's hair and pet her while she exhaled, frustrated. This wasn't how she'd expected to spend her night. Casper turned around and leaned against the doors, stuffing his hands into his unforms pockets. After a few minutes of silence, he finally groaned and shut his eyes.

"This is the worst possible habitat to be stuck in," Casper whisped.

"Is it?" a voice asked, taking everyone by surprise. As they glanced around, they suddenly spotted Fletcher over in the habitat to their right, featuring Swans. Casper walked over to the wall between the two habitats and spoke through the small holes in the plastic so the zoo keepers could communicate between habitats.

"The hell are you doing here this late?" Casper asked.

"Nelly has me installing enrichment devices," Fletcher said.

"At," Casper asked, checking his watch on his wrist, "11pm at night?"

"Well, to be fair, I did kinda..." Fletcher looked down at his shoes and mumbled, "ya know, I kinda..."

A pause, as Casper crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"I taught her about how birds have corkscrew dicks, and she wasn't happy," Fletcher said.

"I'm not surprised, that's disgusting," Casper replied.

Robin couldn't help but chuckle, but then felt Sophie shift and get even closer. Robin ran her fingers through Sophie's hair.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked, and Sophie shrugged, before responding quietly.

"Birds scare me," she said, "always have, but violent birds especially. They're leftover from dinosaurs, so it's almost like being attacked by a dinosaur. I'm sorry for being so in need of comfort. It must be annoying, make me look stupid and childish."

"Nah, you're all good, we all have stuff that makes us uncomfortable, I'm happy I can be a safe support spot for you," Robin said, and Sophie hugged her around the waist. Robin laid her head back against the wall as another honk, this time closer it seemed, rang out through the habitate. He was coming, and they were, not to be cute, sitting ducks. Sophie was right to be afraid of birds. Robin herself had been at one point, until her aunt had taught her otherwise. Humorously enough, at this point in her life, birds were likely one of the few things she wasn't afraid of.

"When I was little," Sophie said, "my mom took me to a petting zoo. They had all sorts of animals; lambs and pigs and goats, the usual stuff one would expect to find at a petting zoo. I was having such a good time. I was being so brave. They had these little pellets that you could give some of the animals, and I was givng various animals handfuls of pellets, they would come up and eat right out of your hand. I remember the pigs nose tickling my skin so hard that I couldn't stop laughing."

Robin smiled warmly, her fingers still in Sophie's hair as Sophie continued.

"...and then, without warning, this canadian goose showed up," Sophie said, "wasn't even part of the zoo, was just a random canadian goose that had picked that particular spot on that particular day to see what the fuss was all about. He starts to approach me, honking at me, and I got so scared I peed. Understandable, given that I was, ya know, 5, but still. Embarrassing. And then I did the unthinkable. I took the remaining pellets I had and threw them at my mom, so thee goose would go after her instead of me."

Robin wanted to laugh, because, well, it was funny, but to Sophie it probably wasn't, and she didn't want to hurt her feelings. She liked that she felt comfortable enough with Robin to open up and share about this kind of stuff.

"She had to go to the hospital," Sophie whispered, "she wasn't badly hurt, like, no life threatening injuries or anything, but it cut up her legs pretty badly, especially at her knees. To this day she refuses to wear shorts or dresses unless she's got stockings on. She says she doesn't blame me, she knows I was just a scared little kid, but...I can't help but feel responsible for giving my mom the gift of semi disfigurement."

Robin nodded, resting her head against Sophie's.

"It's okay," Robin whispered, "these things happen."

"They do?" Sophie asked.

"Well, I don't know, I just know it's what you're supposed to say," Robin replied, making Sophie laugh, which made Robin smile. Meanwhile, Casper and Fletcher were still talking through the airholes in the adjoining walls.

"Ya know, you should give Nelly a break," Casper said.

"Yeah, and why is that?" Fletcher asked.

"Because she works super hard, and she's absolutely in love with this place," Casper replied, "it's, like...her whole world. And here you are, coming in and antagonizing it. That has to hurt. Think about if you had something you poured your life and soul into and someone continually came in every single day - under the guise of being the help - and just shit all over it repeatedly. That would wear a person down."

"You and I both know that I'm not the core problem," Fletcher said.

"You're not helping though."

"It's Rufus and you know it," Fletcher said, and Casper nodded. Fletcher had a point there. Casper exhaled and leaned against the wall, his back to Fletcher, his arms folded.

"I know," he said softly, "I know it's Rufus. I know she's still in a lot of pain. But you're not helping that process along, if anything you're hindering it."

"How am I hindering? I'm trying to take her mind off things," Fletcher said, taking Casper by surprise as he added, "ya know, she comes in every day and she cries in her office or cries in the bathroom or cries in the breakroom. All she does is think about it. She needs...she needs people to pull her mind off of it, make her think about something, anything, else. I'm just...I'm trying to do that cause it's all I know how to do when it comes to helping people."

Casper smiled to himself. He rarely heard Fletcher talk about anything serious, especially in regards to himself, so this was surprising but nice. Suddenly another honk, and this time extremely loud, as if Leonard was closer than ever. Casper stood up and looked around, on edge, prepared. Fletcher did the same. Together, the two looked into Leonard's habitat in the dark, trying to make out any kind of goose like shape that might be approaching either Casper or the girls. After a few minutes, Casper let his shoulders fall again, feeling once more semi at ease, when he turned to face Fletcher and saw a large white goose coming up behind him. His eyes widened and he pointed.

"LEONARD!" he shouted, causing Fletcher to turn around, only to scream like a little girl before taking off into the attached habitat, Leonard chasing after him furiously. Robin approached the wall and watched, befuddled.

"Wait wait wait...what the hell is he doing in there?" she asked.

"...the power," Casper said, "we have these little holes hidden away in the habitats that allow zookeepers to crawl between them, for easier immediate access in case of an emergency. When the power switched off, Leonard must've gone through it himself and ended up in there."

This whole time...this whole entire time they'd been cowering in fear, completely oblivious to the fact that Fletcher was, in fact, the one in remote danger.

"He screams like a girl," Robin said.

"To be fair, most men scream like a girl when chased by a scary animal," Casper replied.

"...that's fair," Robin said, nodding. Even Sophie came by and watched, chuckling to herself. All things considered, it wasn't too bad an evening.

                                                                                                             ***

"That sounds absolutely terrifying," Kyle said, stirring the food in the pain as Robin sat at the kitchen table and painted her toenails; he then asked, "is Fletcher okay at least?"

"Well, the power kicked back on about 3 minutes after, so yeah, he was able to make a quick escape. However, Leonard was now stuck in a habitat full of parrots, and, uh...that was someone else's problem, let's just put it that way."

Kyle laughed as he scooped some of the food out of the pan and plopped it onto a plate, then putting the plate in front of Robin, who thanked him.

"You gotta admit, it isn't a boring job," Kyle said, and Robin nodded.

"This is true, it's vastly more entertaining than I ever anticipated," she replied. Truth be told, she'd really thought it was a good job regardless, but wasn't sure if it'd be good fit for her personally. But atfer having been there a few weeks now, she felt more settled in than she ever had at any other job. She enjoyed her coworkers greatly, and she had a lot of genuine fun giving tours to the children as Miss Gazelle. But...as she thought about this, eating the food Kyle had so lovingly prepared for them that evening, Robin couldn't help but once again think about Sophie. How scared she had seemed. How sad she had been. How much Robin liked giving her comfort. Robin had never had a female best friend, so this was a new, albeit wonderful, experience. But...if that were true...

...why did it feel like so much more than that? And why did she want to spend time with her more than her boyfriend?

                                                                                                                ***

Robin had finished her tour for the early morning and decided to pop on by Sophie's area of work, bringing her lunch. She didn't know why she was bringing her lunch, it just seemed like the nice thing to do. Robin found Sophie in the janitors closet, gathering her materials for another day of cleaning. Robin knocked gently on the door with her knuckles, causing Sophie to turn, surprised, but then smiling at seeing her.

"Hello," Sophie said brightly, "what are you doing out here?"

"I just...I came to...I brought you lunch," Robin said, "yesterday, er, last night rather, was such a shitshow, I figured, ya know, to make you feel better I'd do something nice for you. I hope this is okay, and-"

Without warning, Sophie lunged forward and hugged Robin tightly, taking her by surprise. Robin just set the container of food down on a nearby table and hugged her back. A smell filled Robin's nostrils, and she couldn't place it at first, and then...blackberries. Sophie smelled like blackberries. It was most likely her shampoo or something of the sort, but it was also lovely, as was everything else about her, and that's when it hit Robin like a ton of bricks. Why she had been feeling the way she'd been feeling.

She was...in love.

Meanwhile, in Nelly's office, Fletcher came through the door, closing it behind him. He had a large duffel bag over his shoulder, and a container wrapped in foil in his hands. Nelly looked up from her desk and sighed, rolling her eyes at the very sight of him, something that had, unfortunately, become a common reaction towards him from almost everyone.

"What do you want, Fletcher?" Nelly asked.

"I want you to listen to me for a minute," Fletcher said, "I baked these for you."

He set the container down on the table and Nelly, cautiously, pulled the foil up to reveal a large plate of cookies. She bit her lip, then looked back up towards him.

"Why?"

"Because I've been kind of an ass, and I wanna apologize," Fletcher said, "and women like it when you bake them shit. I heard that on one of those morning shows. But more importantly than these is what I have in this bag."

"If this is a prank, Fletcher, I swear to god you'll be fired on the spot," Nelly said through her teeth. Fletcher plopped the bag atop her desk and unzipped it, then stepped back. Nelly, again, very cautiously, stood up and leaned over it, then gasped, reaching inside and pulling out a handful of very old animal magazines, asking, "...are these?"

"Yeah, vintage back issues of Violent Earth," Fletcher said, "always thought that was a weird name for a magazine."

"Well they printed the stuff nobody else would; animal attacks, animals attacking other animals. I remember I had an issue about vultures that included the smell of a fresh carcass they would feast on, it was, like, a scratch and sniff thing and it was absolutely disgusting but I loved it."

"That one's in there," Fletcher said. Nelly stopped and looked up at him.

"Why...why are you giving me these?" she asked, her voice sounding wavery, as if on the verge of breaking.

",,,I'm sorry about Rufus," Fletcher said, "I just...I thought you could use something nice. You do so much around here, and...and I guess I've been kind of an ass and making it difficult for you and-"

"I like that you're an ass," Nelly said, taking him by surprise as she added, "like, you're the only one who's got the gall to tell me to my face that something is bullshit or try to actively piss me off. I know sometimes I might go overboard in my reaction, because I'm overworked and underslept, but...Fletcher I appreciate your bullshit. Don't ever stop being an ass. Oh my god here it is!"

Nelly tugged free the vulture issue and opened it up.

"Wanna smell a dead animal with me?" she asked, and he smirked.

"Gladly, what a better way to get close to your boss than by smelling a decomposing corpse," he asked.

With that, the two of them stood hunched over the table, stuck between the smell of death and the smell of baked goods, and frankly, neither would have it any other way.

"I can't believe I'm here on my day off," Fletcher said.

"You're the one who issued the challenge, I'm just not a scaredy cat so I took you up on it," Robin replied.

The previous day, in the break room, Fletcher was making a statement to the room that he was the most patient person in the building. Robin, however, insisted this was bullshit, and before long a bet of sorts was initiated. Fletcher told Robin that he bet he could wait longer than she could at seeing the resident sloth move, and Robin happily took him up on the offer. On one hand, Fletcher was caught off guard. He didn't think she'd accept something so ridiculous. On the other hand, he kind of respected her for it. She had guts. Now, set up with their lawnchairs and numerous snacks, they were on their respective day off that just happened to line up, thankfully, they were seated right in front of the singular Sloth habitat. The sloth, named Pokey, was hanging from a branch, and hadn't moved a single hair since they'd begun.

"Well," Harvey said, "I for one couldn't think of a better or more exciting way to waste a day."

"That's because you have no imagination," Fletcher replied.

"I was being sarcastic," Harvey said flatly.

"And I was being rude," Fletcher remarked, as Casper approached Robin's seat and handed her a soda, which she gladly thanked him for. Casper then pulled over a little stool and sat beside her.

"So," Casper said, "this is...riveting."

"What do you think is more fun, watching paint dry or watching Sloths fuck?" Robin asked, and Casper raised an eyebrow, then chuckled.

"I gotta go with the Sloths. At least something eventually happens," Casper said, "though that's the longest foreplay you're ever gonna see."

"Sloths are likely the only creatures who don't prematurely ejaculate," Fletcher said and Harvey groaned, putting a hand over his face.

"Guys, ew," he muttered.

Truth be told, Robin couldn't care less about winning some stupid bet about some Sloth, she just wanted to prove a man wrong. Wanted to prove her worth. Wanted to show her efforts had effect. And it all started because of a conversation she had with Kyle the previous night.

                                                                                                              ***

"I don't know what to tell you," Kyle said.

The two were sitting in Kyle's car on the way home from dinner. Kyle had had a fairly successful audition, after getting another part in a local commercial. Robin, understandably, was frustrated. She wasn't even speaking while Kyle drove. Kyle sighed and pulled up to a red light.

"You need to either make a choice that it's too crushing for you and give up, or believe that you have the skill and keep trying," he said.

"The problem isn't my belief in my abilities, thank you very much," Robin said sternly, finally looking his direction, "the problem is other peoples beliefs in my abilities."

"I suppose that's true, you are rather full of yourself," Kyle replied, making Robin smirk as she hit him playfully in the arm. She glanced back out the passenger side window and sighed. All she wanted to do was act. She knew she was good at it. She knew she was great at it, in fact. But talent rarely was enough, she'd learned. Talent got you far, certainly, but luck played such a big part in success, and it's hard to be the most talented when there's so many other talented people surrounding you that you have to compete with. She blew her bangs from her face and shook her head.

"Maybe I should give up," she mumbled, "maybe everyone was right. I just so badly wanted to prove them all wrong, but maybe everyone was right after all. Maybe I'm either not good enough, or it's just too difficult. Maybe it isn't even worth it. I mean, who's to say that success guarantees fulfillment? Not even happiness, but just general career fulfillment? My worst fear is finally getting what I want and then hating it."

"I think every actor feels that way at one point or another," Kyle said as the light changed to green and they continued on their way; he added, scratching his nose, "but, ya know, you never know until the moment comes, right? So who's to say it would go that way? Perhaps you're one of those very rare people who would just be so grateful to do what you want to do for a living that you'd love every second of it."

Robin sighed and shrugged.

"...maybe," she muttered, "or maybe I'm just delusional."

                                                                                                          ***

"Does blinking count?" Casper asked, and Fletcher shook his head.

"Nah, it has to be real movement. He has to go from one place to another," Fletcher said, sipping on the straw in his drink, "otherwise breathing would count."

Robin slumped down in her chair, leaning back, putting her feet up on the lid of the cooler in front of them. Suddenly, Sophie knelt down beside her chair and Robin, surprised but pleased to see her, smiled. Sophie was biting into a sandwich and Robin cocked her head to look at it.

"What you got there?" Robin asked.

"Swiss cheese, spicy mustard and thinly sliced beef," Sophie said, chewing, mouth half full. Robin chuckled. She liked how Sophie didn't care how she came across. It was sort of inspiring; Sophie continued, "I think swiss cheese is my favorite cheese. I know a lot of people don't like it, because it has a weird flavor and an odd texture, but I think that's what makes it good to me. What are you guys doing here anyway?"

"We're watching Pokey," Fletcher said.

"Why?" Sophie asked.

"Because Fletcher talks out his ass," Robin replied, making everyone laugh, Fletcher included.

Truth be told, Robin would prefer to be anywhere else on her day off. She could have scheduled auditions or something. But instead, she was opting to be at work, not working, or getting paid, and watching a sloth just because a guy had said he was more patient than her. But Robin was sick of being told she couldn't do something better than a man, and she was determined to prove one wrong. Robin couldn't help but shake the voice of her uncle Jake, who had once told her, when she was about 14 and deciding to want to act for a living, that "girls don't get acting jobs because they're skilled, they get them because they're pretty", and that sort of generalized, and incorrect, statement not only was detrimental to her ability to see her skill, but also made an already insecure teenage girl all the more insecure about her appearance.

Sophie finished her sandwich and then pulled a big unwrapped cookie from her coat pocket, opening it and breaking it in half, giving the other half to Robin, who smiled and graciously accepted. Together, the two women sat side by side, eating this giant sugar cookie and watching Pokey continue to not do a damn thing.

"Do you think," Sophie asked, "they deliberately know we're waiting for them to do something and that's why they're so slow? Or are animals not capable of that level of planned deception?"

"I don't know," Harvey said, "I had a friend who had a bird growing up, and anytime his parents were around, the bird swore up a storm and they were convinced it was his fault. I'm pretty sure they're capable of planned deception."

"Yeah but birds are notoriously devious little fuckers," Casper remarked, "the outlier doesn't define the genus."

"Tell that to natural selection," Harvey replied.

Robin chuckled as she listened to this conversation, her eyes slowly drifting back to Sophie. Sophie had finished her cookie and was now sitting there, braiding her own hair, seemingly entirely disinterested and disengaged from the conversation that surrounded her. In a way, Robin admired that. She managed to block out all unnecessary noise, and focus on something else more important to her. That was a trait she wish she had. Robin had far too many negative thoughts, and wished she could, instead of giving them recognition, turn her attention inwards to the things she knew she liked about herself. But, she supposed, when you're a girl who spends the majority of your life being told by others what you can and can't accomplish, you start to internalize those thoughts and they become your inner monologue.

She just wished she could break through the noise to better silence.

                                                                                                          ***

"It isn't that you're not talented," Michael Ansel said, "it's that...it's that there's a million girls just as talented as you. That's the thing to consider. Don't take rejection as a denial of your skill. Instead, recognize that there's so many women trying to make it as actresses that skill alone isn't going to win you the part. You could be the most skilled actress in the world and still lose out to someone else, all because of preferences."

Michael Ansel had been Robin's acting coach for many years, and after the conversation with Kyle, Robin had called him up that night after Kyle had fallen asleep. Lying on the couch in the living room, phone to her ear, Robin couldn't help but sigh dejectedly as she chewed on her hair absentmindedly.

"...but...that fuckin' sucks," she said, making Michael laugh.

"Yeah, yeah it does, I'll be the first to admit that. But it's the fact of the matter, kiddo. Sorry to tell you that this is the way things are and have always been. But listen, Robin, don't let that discourage you, okay? I mean, I know it's discouraging, but still. Don't let that sort of thing deter you from making the best of what you're capable of. Maybe try other routes. Try more theater, try voice acting, the amount of roles available in different mediums and niches are astounding. Don't pigeonhole yourself to one thing like film, okay? Film isn't the end all be all that Hollywood has tried to convince us it is. There's other respectable forms out there that are worthy of your attention, not to mention your skill."

Robin smiled. Michael had always been so supportive of her, and she was grateful for it. He'd been almost like a second father figure, which, frankly, she needed. Wasn't liker her own had been all that supportive of her dreams. He wasn't openly dismissive by any means, but Robin could tell her had hoped she'd pick a "normal" job and just give up on the arts, which only angered her further, the hypocrisy, as a man who made his living as an art historian. Once again the message came through loud and clear, things of a creative nature were primarily better serviced by men, not women.

"I just need one good role, you know, that's what they always say," Robin said as she sat upright, hair still in her mouth, "they always say it's just one good role that can create an entire career. That's all I need."

"Sure, but the chances of you getting it, and then having it recognized, are also slim. You could be slotted into a role literally designed for you and your abilities, but if it gets nobody talking, if nobody sees it, then what's really the point?" Michael asked, "Robin, listen, you're good, okay, you're one of the best students I've ever had. You can achieve this, I believe in you, genuinely, I'm not just saying that. I can see your talents. But you gotta be patient. I know, I know, you've been at this a while now, but think of how many people had been working until they finally got their break."

"Michael, I can't be 45 and then get my chance, I have to pay my bills," Robin said, "this...this isn't feasible anymore."

"Well you have a job, right?" Michael asked, and Robin sighed.

"Yeah, yes, I do, and I actually don't hate it, but still," Robin said, flopping onto her back in the opposite direction now, groaning, "...okay, I'll try to hang in there. Thanks for talking to me."

"Robin, don't get worn down, alright? Something will happen, I know it will, I know a star when I see one," Michael said warmly, and Robin smiled. She thanked him again, then hung up. As she laid on her back on the couch, staring at the ceiling fan overhead, chewing on her thumbnail, she couldn't help but feel like this whole thing was a dead end. A lost cause. A hopeless endeavor, never to bare fruit. What was she really adding to the world anyway, by being another actress in an already overcrowded space? If she were a writer, perhaps, then maybe, or even a director, willing to take chances on gusty projects that said brave things, trying to change the hearts and minds of others for the better, but she wasn't either of those things. She was just an actress. Another woman in a sea of overly pretty faces, destined for the bargain bin at her local superstore.

Robin never went to bed. Instead she slept on the couch that night, because she wound up crying so hard she didn't want to wake Kyle up. How funny, she thought, even at her lowest her concern was for others comfort, not for others to comfort her. Guess that's also part of being a woman.

                                                                                                           ***

"I guess I relate to Pokey because it feels like I too am moving at a snails pace," Robin said meekly, "like...no matter how hard I work or how long I try, I just...I can't seem to shake the inevitability of my eventual failure. I can't get anywhere. I'm stuck."

Sophie nodded, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.

"I know what you mean, I feel stuck too," she said, "never going fast enough not just for myself but for anyone else who expects things of me. I'm always told to not be ashamed at how fast I'm going, because everyone goes at their own pace and there's no real timetable for any kind of success or improvement, but still. It bothers me."

Robin nodded in agreement. She lifted her drink to her lips and took a long sip, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

"But Pokey doesn't care," Sophie said, continuing, "so really why should I judge myself so harshly, or worry about those who do?"

"Well Pokey doesn't have societal pressure placed upon him," Robin replied, "it's a little different."

"You think he doesn't have societal pressure?" Sophie asked, and Robin turned her head to look at her; Sophie added, "people come to the zoo to see animals do things. How many times have you seen disgruntled patrons get mad at an animal for just lounging, for not being entertaining? We think they exist primarily for our enjoyment, like they're in the circus or something. To say Pokey doesn't have societal pressure, I mean...sure, he doesn't have bills to pay, a family to keep together, a career he's desperately trying to succeed in, but these people...they come here and they watch him and despite knowing full well how sloths are, they still get angry when he does what sloths do. We took societal pressure and put into animals."

Robin's eyes widened. She hadn't really considered this before. She looked back from Sophie towards Pokey's habitat and realized she was completely accurate in her assessment. Humans had taken the very same things they wished they didn't have on them and placed it on animals, because we did see everything as something for our amusement. Robin stood up and approached the habitat, putting her hand on the thick plexiglass, looking up at Pokey. Before she knew it, Sophie was standing beside her again.

"And here we are," she continued, "watching him again, waiting for him to do something, placing an entire bet around his ability to just move. Doesn't seem fair to me. Sure he doesn't really know that people wait on him, get mad when he doesn't do what they expect, but that doesn't make it okay. He's just a sloth."

"...you're right," Robin whispered, before turning to the others, and announcing, "I'm going home. This is stupid."

Fletcher leapt from his chair in victory, pumping his fist in the air.

"I told you I was more patient!" he shouted, high fiving the others.

"No, you're not," Robin said, "you're stubborn. There's a difference. One is a virtue, the other is a rather unpleasant characteristic."

As she grabbed her things, slung her bag over her shoulder, and passed by Fletcher, she gently reached out and patted him on the shoulder, smiling.

"But don't worry," she said, "so am I. You're in good company."

And with that, she and Sophie headed for the parking lot. Robin realized that night that she wouldn't want that pressure on her, so why should she ever put it on anyone or anything else? She and Sophie went out to eat, and afterwards Robin drove Sophie home - seeing as Sophie didn't drive and usually took the bus or a taxi - and the whole time, all Robin could think about was how this girl had been so right about how, even if Pokey wasn't achieving what others expected him to, that didn't mean he wasn't worth respecting. And it didn't mean that when he did, it wouldn't be worth celebrating. He didn't move that night, but he might move tomorrow.

And tomorrow was another hopeful day. That's all that Robin had, anymore, but it was enough.

"Last night, at the Festival of Feathers," Nelly said, "we had an incident."

"It's way too early for this," Fletcher groaned, slinking down in his seat.

"A beautiful event, for those like Robin who maybe have never attended, because she only just started here," Nelly said, smiling at Robin who smiled anxiously back; Nelly leaned forward on the table, "lights, soft music, really just a love letter to the species that we feature here at Wild Kingdom. We have bird themed drinks and snacks, and you can get your photo taken with a bird. Kids love it and, secondary to Birdapalooza, it's the most hyped up event of the year here."

"Is there a point to this?" Harvey asked, leaning against the counter, drinking his coffee.

"More than there is to your life," Nelly said, making him look hurt.

"God, sorry," he whispered.

"So I head the event every year because, well, I like birds, to put it bluntly. I love birds of all kinds, all colors, all shapes and sizes. But my favorite bird has to be the Peacock. The colors on its tail, and that beautiful sheen of dark ocean blue feathers, there's just...there's really nothing nearly as majestic in the aviary kingdom, in my eyes anyway. So I do the event, and it goes swimmingly, and everyone has an excellent time. Children get their photos taken with their favorite birds, and all in all, we raised a lot of money for the zoo. Good for us! Go team!"

A small, but scattered, round of soft applause filled the room. Nelly then sat fully on the table and sighed, still smiling.

"And then, I went to get in my car and go home," she said, "and you know what I discovered when I got in my car? While I had been working all night, someone, I guess, thought it would just be a riot if they put a Peacock in my car. And, guess what? When I got into my car, it had shit everywhere, because it was so stressed out from the experience that it literally lost control of its bowels and covered the interior of my car - a car I've only owned for two weeks, by the way - in shit."

Nobody spoke. Hell, everyone was afraid to breath, let alone respond.

"Fletcher, you ever accidentally leave something like, I don't know, meat out in the sun? The heat makes the stench ten times worse when it rots," Nelly said.

"Sadly not in the habit of leaving prime rib out to dry, no," Fletcher replied.

"That's okay, it's just an example. Imagine that stink though, I'm sure we've all smelt it at one point or another, right? Rotten meat? Meat we just didn't get to cook soon enough or meat we forgot about. You know, sometimes you come home from the grocery, you leave a bag on your porch and you just...it slips your mind, you forget about it. Three days later it's the foulest odor on the planet. So imagine that...but localized within a car. It was 94 degrees all day, even well into the night. I opened my car door and almost fainted because the stench was so overwhelming, and I wasn't expecting it, that it hit me in the face like a truck full of shit."

"How's the bird?" Robin asked nervously, and Nelly smiled.

"Glad of you to ask! Bird is surprisingly okay, they're resillient fuckers," Nelly said, "anyway, I managed to get my car taken in, had the interior completely fixed, no more smell, and the bird's been returned to its habitat. A happy ending for all involved, especially my poor vehicle. But let me say this," Nelly said, her voice lowering as she leaned against the table and angrily glared around the room, "if I ever find out who it was who put that Peacock with a bowel problem in my car...I assure you that you won't be fired. Instead, you're gonna work here forever, and every single day, you're gonna open your locker, and it's gonna be filled with shit. Every. Single. Day. And all your belongings that you might've left in there, after cleaning it out, will be covered in shit. Your whole life will be nothing but a shitstorm, 24 hour shitcycle, a shit hurricane if you will. You will go to sleep every night knowing that when you wake up, you will once again have to be face to face with animal feces, you will live, breath and eat shit. So you better fuckin' pray to whatever God you believe in that I never find out who you are, because if I do..."

Nelly shook her head, laughing lowly.

"...if I do," she said, "you will know no peace. You will know no safety. You will know no joy. You will only know shit."

And with that, Nelly stood back upright, smoothed out her blouse, skirt and jacket and smiled at everyone.

"Have a nice day at work everyone," she said, before turning and exiting the room. Nobody dared breathed until they knew she was far enough away from the room and down the hall.

"So who did it?" Fletcher asked, but nobody would come forward.

"...I don't think I wanna eat lunch today," Robin said softly.

                                                                                                           ***

"They call it the Hippo Campus," Casper said as he drove Robin across the zoo.

"And why do they call it the Hippo Campus?" Robin asked, "just to be cute, or?"

"The whole area is presented like a school, educational, ya know, for the benefit of the kids who visit," Casper said, "so yeah, it's just a cute little pun, but it's also a neat idea. You know, places like zoos or aquariums, or as I like to call them Aquatic Zoos, have the chance to educate while also entertain, and the kids are so enveloped by the wonder of the animals that they don't really realize they're being taught, and even if they do, it's so interesting that they don't care."

"Kids are dumb like that," Robin said, pulling the foil back on her breakfast burrito and biting into it, chewing as she asked, "and what am I doing over in this area?"

"You will be giving a presentation on the Gazelle. We try to keep most of the animals grouped together by localization, so animals you'd find in, say, Africa, are all together. Hippos and Gazelle's, for instance. Don't ask me why it's done this way, ask upper management."

"I don't think I will, because that would insinuate I care enough to know," Robin replied, as Casper patted her on the shoulder.

"That's the spirit!" he exclaimed.

The Hippo Campus was, she couldn't deny, pretty cute. Very colorful and filled with cartoonish depictions of hippos in various situations; some little cartoon hippo children wearing clothes and backpacks on, clearly ready for school. Casper parked in the center and Robin climbed out, bumping her head on the roof.

"Yeah, you gotta watch for that," Casper said, "I'll come get you when it's over! It goes in a circle, so you'll wind up back here, and it's a long walk back to the main office, so I'll come pick you up."

"Thanks," Robin said, giving him a thumbs up and finishing her burrito, tossing the wrapped in a nearby trashcan that looked like a Hippo with its mouth open, ready to accept refuse; Robin stopped and stared at it for a moment before narrowing her eyes and whispering, "that's really creepy."

She wiped her hands on her pants and approached the area for the Gazelle tour, happy to see a group of kids and their parents already waiting. The thing about giving tours, and part of why Robin felt she was a good choice for this job, was that she had to remembered a ton of Gazelle factoids, and having tried to be an actress, constantly running lines and memorizing scripts, this was a skill Robin already posessed in spades. She stopped at the front of the line and smiled out at everyone.

"Hello, hi!" she said brightly, "Welcome to Miss Gazelle's Tour! Today we'll be visiting the majestic and graceful Gazelle in their natural habitat, and you'll learn all sorts of things you didn't know about them! Please follow me and stay in a group, kids please hold onto your parents hands so nobody gets lost or left behind!"

With that, she started leading them through the tour. Performative action. That's all Robin knew.

                                                                                                          ***

When Robin had been in the 7th grade, she was part of the schools performance Carnival of the Animals, and - coincidentally enough, though she wouldn't remember it as an adult - she was given the role of the gazelle. Course, the costume was nothing more than a body suit and a felt mask with cardboard antlers, but still. She'd gotten the role primarily because she was lanky, lithe, very tall. Same reasons she thought might benefit her being an actress, her waifish ballerina-esque figure. And while it certainly helped her in terms of dance or roles, it didn't help her in terms of friends.

After all, middle school is nothing if not the human equivelent of the Serengeti. Survival of the fittest. And Robin experienced that firsthand. Thankfully, there was a 9th grader there from the neighboring high school - she was helping do the choreography - who liked Robin and took her under her wing. By the time of the actual performance, Robin was easily the best dancer among her cast mates, and she owed it all to that 9th grade girl. She was grateful, but she also felt something else. Something she never understood and could never put into words. Something she would hide away forever after that. Jealousy, maybe? Who knows. All she knew was she was grateful to this girl, and was sad when she was gone.

She still had that costume in her closet to this day. And this day, in particular, she'd be once again hit with that familiar feeling.

                                                                                                         ***

With the tour over, Robin found herself just outside the gift shop, chewing gum, watching people go by. She wondered what it must be like to just...be able to have an ordinary job. To do ordinary work. Course, if you love what you do, then it's anything but ordinary, but still. She wished she could stand to live like that. Work in an office, maybe have friend nights on the weekends, get the holidays off, but...she had to do something more. Someething grander. Robin sighed and rubbed her eyes when she heard someone shouting.

"Littering isn't cool, you know!" the girls voice rang out, causing Robin to look up towards her; she was clearly shouting at a few kids who'd thrown trash on the ground and run away, as she added, "Just because your parents let you get away with trashing the home doesn't mean you can trash everywhere you go!"

Robin smirked as the girl turned and started to pick up the trash, putting it into a little bucket. Their eyes caught, and the girl walked in her direction.

"You're not wrong," Robin said.

"I know."

"That's just despicable behavior, frankly," Robin continued, "you're not a janitor, though, so it's good to see you pick it up even without it being your job."

"The zoo is supposed to be beautiful," the girl replied, "it's supposed to be this harmonious place where all the animals can co-exist, albeit sectioned off from one another for obvious reasons, and the grounds are supposed to be pristine. We let so much of the world get ugly, we destroy so much of it, I just...I don't wanna see it happen to the zoo too."

Robin smiled warmly. This girl clearly cared greatly for not just her job but also the place proper. The girl set her things down on the table and sat down, joining Robin. She was wearing a large sunhat, presumably to keep herself from tanning, as she had an almost unearthly paleness to her, and she had medium length golden curly hair. She wasn't, however, wearing a uniform that represented a specific animal or section, and this confused Robin. The girl reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out her inhaler, taking a few puffs.

"Don't you have a vehicle?" Robin asked, "ya know, like a cart or whatever?"

"I use a segway," the girl replied, "...are you new?"

"Just started, yeah," Robin said, "I'm Robin Glass."

"Sophie Hart," the girl said, smiling.

"So, why do you think they call it the Hippo Campus?"  Robin asked, "Casper said it was because it's not only a pun, but it's also educational, ya know, to inspire the kids or whatever. What do you think?"

"I think this zoo cares far too much about presentation and not enough about conservation," Sophie said, "but...it is cute, I guess. I don't know. I try not to think too much about it cause I have to focus on so many other things. I just do my job and keep quiet and away from everyone."

"Why's that? Everyone's been pretty nice, albeit Fletcher who's kind of an ass, but an enjoyable ass," Robin said.

"Animals have always liked me more than people, guess I feel the same way," Sophie said, shrugging, and this made Robin's heart hurt. The way she said it, the tonal inflection, it just sounded so sad. Like it was something she claimed not to be bothered by but inevitably spent a lot of time thinking about. Sophie sighed and looked around at their immediate surroundings, before adding, "I don't know. Maybe I belong at the zoo. I've always been kind of a curiosity to people. Something to gawk at. Maybe it's the right place for me."

"Hey," Robin said, softly, "hey, you're okay. You're not a curiosity. You're a person."

Sophie smiled weakly, then stood up.

"I should get back to things," she said, "it was nice meeting you."

As she started to head away from the table, she stoppd, dragged one of the small cartoonish kid hippo cutouts holding a finger up and put it near another so it looked as if it they were picking the others nose. Robin laughed and Sophie waved goodbye. The thing was, as Robin went about the rest of her day, she couldn't get what Sophie had said out of her mind, about being a curiosity. This was something Robin had long felt about herself, It's hard to fit in when nobody has ever made you feel like you do. After changing back into her pedestrian clothes, carrying her uniform over her arm, Robin headed for the parking lot, only to find Nelly leaning against her car, smoking.

"Hello," Robin said.

"It's a bad habit, I know," Nelly said, "how's your week been going?"

"It's been...interesting," Robin said, "...sorry about the thing with the birds. That...that sounded-"

"I don't wanna be the bitch," Nelly said, "but I have to be, otherwise people step out of line. I have to instill fear in them or they don't listen. Humanity isn't much different, ultimately, from the animal kingdom. We all rule in a hierarchy, some of us willing to terrify others to be in control. Someone has to be the alpha. I'm not...I'm not always like that, and I'm sorry that your first week has seen you see me like that, cause it isn't fully representative of the spectrum of personhood that I encompass."

Robin smiled and nodded.

"Women have it hard," Robin said, "you can't win at all, in any way, so you just do what's best and try to keep going. I don't think you're a bitch, Nelly. I think everyone else is just an ass."

Nelly laughed and took another long drag. Robin said goodnight, got in her car, and drove back to the apartment. Nelly, after finishing her cigarette, stubbed it out in the parking lot and did the same. As she stopped for some food on the way home, she couldn't help but think about what Robin had said. Women did have it hard. Survival of the fittest. And women were the fittest because they were the ones who had to survive the most.

                                                                                                         ***

Robin was laying in bed beside Kyle, who was asleep, a book on his chest. As she stared at the ceiling overhead, listening to the soft hum of the air conditioner, Robin realized she couldn't get Sophie out of her head. She rolled onto her side, her eyes landing on the bedroom closet, where her Gazelle costume still sat, tucked away with a million other things. She thought back to middle school, back to that 9th grader who made the costume and did the choreography for their performance, and she twinged inside a little. Why did Sophie make her feel the same way she had? Maybe she just needed female friends. She didn't really have any. Hell, outside of Kyle she didn't really have anyone, and if what Nelly said was true, it would be better to band together as women then try to go it alone as women.

Robin shut her eyes and tried to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, she thought, she'd seek out Sophie again, and have lunch with her. If anyone knew how it felt to be alone, it was Robin, and she didn't want anybody else to feel that way. After all, what is the animal kingdom if not a manner of pack mentality? Everyone deserved to belong somewhere. Maybe she'd even bring the Gazelle mask from the play. Sure, it was old and cheap and goofy, but it would fit her for the role of her tour guide. After all, it wasn't so surprising, women being actresses. They always have to pretend to be something and someone they aren't. All of life as a woman is performative. And maybe that's what Robin liked and saw in Nelly and Sophie, women who recognized this, and didn't care. Who were willing to be themselves.

Humans are just animals masquerading as something else, really.

"I was supposed to be an actress," Robin said, pushing some of her hair back behind her ear, feeling embarrassed, "I was in theater my whole life during school, even went to a prestigious theater academy, and I've loved movies my whole life. I've read so many books on the subject that I probably could've written one at this point. But nobody calls back. I...I go to these auditions, and I...I try my hardest, I give it my all, and yet, nobody calls back. I don't even get callbacks for commercials. Fucking commercials. I can't even be thrown that little of a bone. So, I had to start looking for other means of employment. Now I'm here. Guess sometimes we just don't end up with the future we wanted."

Robin laughed nervously as the rest of the gang in the break room looked at her awkwardly. Fletcher took a bite of his sandwich as Harvey took a long sip of his drink.

"That is the saddest story I've ever heard, and I've heard my family history," Harvey said.

"We just asked what brought you here, we didn't need every sordid detail," Fletcher added.

"Well, I was always told to be honest," Robin said, shrugging.

"So when a cashier asks you how your day's been you tell them you're miserable and that you cried yourself to sleep the night before?" Fletcher asked, and Robin laughed a little. The door to the break room opened and Nelly entered. She walked directly to the coffee machine, while Harvey continued drinking.

"So why this?" Harvey asked, "I mean, all things considered, why did you pick this? It's not even remotely adjacent to acting."

"Actually it is," Robin said, tossing her hair back, "because I have to give a performance for the tour, so it's very similar. I did a lot of improv, so I figure this would be really easy for me and still allow me to flex my creative muscles. I can just be a character here."

"Who made tea in my fucking coffee pot," Nelly asked, not even turning to look at everyone. The room went dead silent. Finally Nelly turned, holding the coffee pot by the handle firmly in her fist; she smiled, which was almost even more unsettling, and asked again, "who...made tea...in my fucking coffee pot?"

"It was Doug," Fletcher said, "he did it last night before leaving."

"And nobody thought to wash it afterwards?" Nelly asked, setting the pot down on the counter with a thud before clasping her hands in front of her pencil skirt and approaching the table; she added, "alright, listen up because here's the deal. The zoo itself is like an ecosystem. And I don't mean the animals. I mean the people who work for it. So, for instance, let's say we put a rhino in a habitat with a hippo, and the hippo, mad about its space being invaded, takes a shit in the rhino's food source, who would you say is at fault?"

Nobody answered, but instead exchanged confused looks as Nelly laughed anxious and scratched her forehead.

"Everyone. The answer is everyone," she said, clearly exasperated, "we all have to maintain some sense of connection and respect and cumraderie with one another to keep a place like this running smoothly, right? We're a team. So, with that in mind, would someone please tell me why Douglas feels the need TO KEEP SHITTING IN MY COFFEE POT?!"

Nobody spoke again. Nelly groaned, reached into her pants pocket and retrieved her wallet, then handed Fletcher a wad of bills.

"Go down the street, get me coffee," she said, "and yourself something, as a treat."

"You got it cap'n," Fletcher said, saluting as he stood up and exited. Nelly followed suite, leaving just Harvey and Robin there alone now. Robin looked across the table at Harvey, who simply finished his drink and shrugged.

"She's high strung," he said.

                                                                                                           ***

At the zoo, everyone had a nickname to be addressed as by the guests when giving guided tours, and Robin had been assigned Miss Gazelle. She didn't mind this in the slightest. If anything, she appreciated it. She took it to mean she was elegant and graceful. Standing outside, preparing mentally for her first tour, Robin exhaled and tried to remember the tips she'd had for performing on stage in front of a live audience. You aren't this person. You are a character. They only know you as Miss Gazelle, and Miss Gazelle is perfect. Friendly. Approachable. Robin then headed towards her area where she was meant to give tours, only to find nobody was in line yet. She checked her watch and sighed. Must be too early still. She leaned against the railing and waited, looking around, when a small golf cart rode up beside her.

"Hey," Fletcher said, "you're not giving a tour until 2pm. Til then, maybe just walk around and gather up loose garbage?"

"I'm not the janitor," Robin said.

"Yeah, but you have to keep active, busy. Otherwise it looks bad," Fletcher said, "besides, would Miss Gazelle ever stand around looking bored? Nah. She'd be on the move."

Robin smiled, nodding. Fletcher got it. He reached into the backseat of the golf cart and handed her a paper cup with a lid on it, to her surprise, which she graciously accepted.

"Got you a little something from the coffee shop seeing as it's your first day and all," he said, "Get in, I'll drive you to where the biggest pile up of litter tends to be."

Robin shrugged and, coffee in hand, climbed aboard the golf cart, which had been painted in Zebra stripes. Fletcher turned the cart around and honked at some kids in his way before speeding off - or speeding as well as one could in a golf cart - in the opposite direction.

"Listen, don't worry about Nelly, she's not always like that," Fletcher said, "I mean, she's mostly like that, but she's also cool. And, of course, none of that was your fault, so. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Robin said, finishing sipping.

"So," Fletcher continued, "Why acting? Cause that's just like a super hard field to break into. It's such a stroke of luck. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know it takes a lot of skill, but there's so much involved too. Why would you subject yourself to that?"

Robin sighed and looked out at the guests and various exhibits as they rolled on by.

"I guess cause I don't like myself," Robin said, "it's nice to pretend to be someone, anyone, else. It allows you to inhabit an entirely different persona, learn their likes and dislikes, create someone new and fully dimensional from just a few facts. I guess I just like it cause I'd like to be able to reinvent myself, but it isn't so easy. Acting is easy. When you act, nobody can tell you hate yourself."

Robin lifted the cup to her lips and took a long sip as Fletcher exhaled.

"Damn, you're a bummer, sorry I asked," he said, making her laugh. Finally they pulled up to a small area that was mostly used as an outdoor cafeteria, and Robin climbed out, thanking Fletcher for the coffee and the ride before watching him drive off somewhere else. Robin turned and looked at the area, noticing all the trash that surrounded the base of the tables and the chairs. She groaned and finished her drink, tossing it in a nearby garbage can before opening a small door nearby and pulling out a broom and a scooper and got to work.

                                                                                                            ***

Robin was a performer for as long as she could recall.

When she was a little girl, she used to put on one person plays for her parents, and always volunteered for the school talent show. She took theatre in middle school and drama in high school. She was in all the school plays, and when she told her parents she wanted to attend a school for acting, they weren't in the least bit surprised, but also weren't exactly the most assured of the possibility of success. But Robin went, and they paid, and she learned all the typical tools of the trade. Sadly, she wouldn't get much of a chance to put any of those to use.

As she'd told the others at Wild Kingdom Zoo, she couldn't get callbacks. Not even for commercials. And this surprised her because when she'd done public theatre, she'd gotten excessively positive feedback from critics and viewers alike. So why was it so hard to get work in something substantial? After about a year and a half of effort and attempts, all leading to virtually nothing, she had run out of money and had to start looking for a job, any job, and thankfully Wild Kingdom Zoo was willing to hire whoever had her kind of skills. Public interaction, specifically.

But it was all she could dream of. All she wanted to get back to. She would get home and watch TV or movies and just feel so jealous of all the people, people younger than her now, who were having wild success. Why couldn't she have that sort of luck? Was she just not pretty enough? Or maybe...maybe she just...wasn't actually that talented.

Whatever the reason was, she couldn't figure, but it ate away at her as she laid in bed at night and fantasized about having a career in the arts. Today, while putting on her uniform for her first day at work, all she could do was stare at herself in her bathroom mirror and cry. She swore she wasn't depressed, but the reality was, she was likely just very good at hiding it. God forbid her folks found out just how in debt she was, or how hopeless she felt, they'd likely make her move back home and go into therapy. So Robin Glass did what she did best. She put on her uniform, plastered a smile on her face, and acted like a different person.

After all, it was what she'd trained for.

                                                                                                          ***

"Hey, Miss Gazelle," a voice called out, causing Robin to stop her cleaning and look around until she heard the snapping of fingers. Finally she turned the right way, towards the pathway, and spotted a young man about her age leaning against the railing. He had pale skin and white hair, also in a zoo uniform, and behind him sat a parked golf cart, this one covered in Cheetah spots and yellow coloration.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Why are you doing Fletcher's job?" the man asked, causing Robin to throw her broom down in annoyance.

"That slimy little son of a-" she muttered. The guy laughed and climbed over the rail, approaching the seating area; Robin pushed her hair from her face and, putting her hands on her hips, shook her head, adding, "he told me to keep busy until I had tours, I didn't know he'd just use me to get out of doing his own stuff."

"I guess it's a good thing he works at the zoo, seeing what a conniving little weasel he is," the man said, "I'm Casper, by the way."

"Robin," Robin replied, "so, wait, do I have a tour waiting or something then?"

"Nah, we've been seeing less and less tours lately, instead guests are opting to just kind of mill about on their own. Tours are typically held for, like, school field trips and stuff. You might get one. You might even get just a proper tour if enough people get in line. But don't hold your breath."

Robin sat down at one of the tables and sighed.

"You okay?" Casper asked.

"...this isn't where I'm supposed to be," she said softly.

"You're right, it's where Fletcher's supposed to be," Casper replied, making her smirk before asking, "And where are you supposed to be?"

But Robin didn't have an answer to that because, honestly, she didn't know. What she'd spent her whole life working towards hadn't worked, so yeah, where was she supposed to be was a good question. Casper sat down next to her and waited. A small family, three kids and their parents, ran by, laughing and having fun, making Robin smile. Truth be told, it wasn't really all that bad here. She got to see happy families, excited kids, cool animals. All things considered, it could've been worse.

"I don't know," Robin said, shrugging.

"Well, if you don't know where you're supposed to be, then you can be anywhere," Casper said, making her smile more; Casper patted her on the back and added, "Alright, c'mon Miss Gazelle, let's go find Fletcher, and then have lunch."

                                                                                                       ***

"How was it?" Kyle asked, as he opened a beer for himself.

Robin and Kyle were sitting on the couch of his apartment, eating order in and watching TV. Robin wrapped some noodles around her chopsticks and lifted them to her lips, sucking them in and chewing for a bit before responding.

"It was okay," she said, mouth half full, "it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Everyone's super nice, except maybe the boss. She's got not just a stick up her ass but a whole wooden stake."

Kyle laughed as he placed Robin's drink down on the table in front of her, making her thank him. Robin and Kyle had met at an audition and had started dating, and since then they'd been together for about two years, almost three now. But the thing was...Robin didn't see it as a relationship as much as she did a general friendship with a bit more emotional openness. She didn't like being intimate with him, and anytime he kissed her, no matter where, she cringed. Kyle took it more seriously, and didn't know she felt so disconnected, but seeing as he was the last attachment she had to the dream of acting, she wasn't willing to let it all fall apart.

"Well I'm glad to hear that," Kyle said, leaning back on the couch and drinking some, "cause I was worried. I thought you might not like being in the sun that long, even though you have a hat, or maybe nobody would like you, which is impossible really, so I'm glad to hear it all went better than expected."

"Thanks for your concern," Robin said, "I'm still scared to tell my parents I have this job. I don't want them to be mad at me for failing to be an actress. I also don't wanna give up going to auditions, but I think having this job is going to make going to auditions that much harder."

"I'll work some magic, don't worry, you'll get to 'em," Kyle said, making Robin blush. For all her disinterest in the romance, she was so grateful to have someone looking out for her. Robin finished eating and leaned back against the couch, placing a hand on her stomach and burping. After a moment of picking her teeth, she grinned.

"What?" Kyle asked.

"Oh, nothing, just an idea for tomorrow," she said.

                                                                                                           ***

"All I'm saying is that if we were going to expand," Fletcher said, "I'd prefer we expand the plains animals, specifically stuff like Hyenas. We don't have enough, and it'd be cool to see an entire pack as opposed to the three we actually have."

Fletcher and Casper were standing outside the main office, just talking, waiting for the day to start. Robin walked up, holding a plastic container full of coffee cups and stopped in front of them.

"Morning," she said cheerfully as the doors opened and Nelly stepped out; Robin quickly handed her a cup from the holder, which she graciously accepted. She took and sipped it for a moment before exhaling.

"Alright, guys, we have a meeting, so," she said, "get inside asap."

With that, she exited back into the building.

"So," Fletcher said, "look at little Miss Brownnose, buying everyone coffee on her second day."

"Just trying to be nice," Robin said, handing him a cup, which he took. She and Casper took the remaining two cups and began to head inside as Fletcher took a long sip, then spit it all out over his uniform, gasping for fresh air as he turned and yelled at her.

"This is animal shit! I drank liquified animal shit!" he screamed.

Robin and Casper just high fived on their way in. It was a pretty good job after all.

Wyatt was standing in his bedroom, staring at the full length mirror in the corner, as he got dressed. He was wearing black slacks and a tucked in button down brown shirt. He put a green tie around his neck and tied it tightly, then picked up the comb from a nearby table and started working on his hair. He didn't really know why he was doing this. It wasn't like he was going to something fancy. He was going to do something terrible today. He didn't know if murder really called for looking good while you commit it. The door to the bathroom opened and Scarlett came out in her robe, drying her hair with a towel. She stopped and looked at him, smiling.

"Hey, look at you," she said, "What're you all dressed up for?"

Wyatt chewed his lip and thought.

"I have a meeting," Wyatt said.

It wasn't a lie, really. He turned and looked at his wife, approaching her and kissing her.

"I'll probably be late for dinner," he said.

                                                                                                            ***

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Kelly asked, sitting at her parents kitchen table, eating crackers as Rachel sat across from her, tapping her nails nervously on her coffee mug.

"Not at all," Rachel said, "but...it's time. I need to do this, like, for myself. I can make a clean break if it goes the way I'm expecting, and that'll be good for me, good for my life. Who needs that dead weight anyway. But I won't lie and say I ain't anxious about it."

"Well," Kelly said, "you know if anything goes wrong, you'll always have my parents."

Rachel smiled, lifting the mug to her lips and taking a long sip. Kelly's folks had been nothing but loving of her, especially lately, and it did ease her mind a little knowing that she had something of a family to fall back on if and when things with her own folks went to shit. Rachel checked her watch, then looked back up.

"Hey," she said, "when are you having your surgery?"

"Oh, in a few weeks," Kelly said, "and then it's another few weeks of laying around. You know, for as much as you wanna do nothing when you're a kid, once you're an adult you realize it's boring as hell lying in bed all day. Wouldn't recommend it. But at least I'll have a wicked cool cyborg leg at the end of it, so I guess it all evens out."

"How're you gonna predict the rain without your bad hip?" Rachel asked, making Kelly laugh, snorting.

"Actually," Kelly said, "everyone at the station has been so nice about it. Very supportive. It's pretty cool to have a whole building full of people wanting the best for me. Weird, but cool. One of my managers kids asked if they could sign my new leg and I had to tell them it wasn't like a cast, it would come off almost instantly, if it stayed on at all. Either way, it's nice."

Rachel nodded. It must be nice, she thought, to have people, total strangers, who care so much. It was one thing to have family, but a whole group of coworkers? Closest thing Rachel had to that was Wyatt and Calvin, and she knew that wouldn't last much longer...Rachel bit her lip and tried to keep her mind on tonight. On Sun Rai, and seeing her parents, and coming out.

"I'm scared," Rachel said quietly, "I'm scared as hell."

"Hey, you'll be okay," Kelly said, reaching across the table and holding her hand, "everything will be okay. If I can survive a plane crash, you can survive this."

Rachel wanted to cry. She was so happy to have her best friend back.

                                                                                                             ***

Angie, much like Wyatt, was getting dressed. Though, in her case, her outfit consisted mainly of jeans and a baby tee because she didn't really see the necessity to look good for this sort of occasion. She stood in the bathroom, in front of her mirror and brushed her hair, then applied some light makeup and stared at herself. All she'd wanted since her parents had left the cult was to follow someone, to have a reason for living more than just living, and now she was being granted that request, being asked to do something for the greater good. She could do this. She could. She exited the bathroom and found the house empty. Her parents must be at work. Angie headed down the stairs, grabbed the spare keys to the house and exited, locking the door behind her.

Wyatt was already waiting outside, much to her surprise. Angie approached the car and pulled the passenger door open, climbing inside. She pulled the seatbelt around her as Wyatt started the car up and pulled away from the curb, back onto the road.

"Didn't know you'd be here already," she said.

"Wasn't waiting long, for what it's worth," Wyatt said.

"You look nice," Angie said.

"Well," Wyatt shrugged, "wasn't exactly how to dress for such a thing, so I just dressed like I normally do for work. So we're gonna meet Calvin at this little river, somewhere we've met before. Familiar. Comfortable. He won't suspect anything there."

"Are you okay?" Angie asked, reaching out and touching his arm.

"I'm fine," he said through his teeth, "just...I hate that it came down to this. I did everything in my power to avoid this outcome, and it wasn't enough. He just seemed like he wanted things to go down like this regardless of anything else. But I hate it. I hate this. He was my friend. He's Rachels friend. The whole situation sucks."

"Some people don't want to be saved," Angie said.

"That sounds like cult talk," Wyatt remarked, and she shrugged.

"Just saying that some people are so deadset on a course of destruction that they can't see past their blinders and, as a result, this is the only outcome they can see for themselves, or the only one they're destined for. We're doing the right thing, Wyatt. You were right. We're doing the right thing here. He'd only hurt more people. Hurt a child. We can't allow that. If we don't stop him, he'll just keep going, making it worse. What if, after tonight, he decided this wasn't enough and he wanted to kill everyone related to Grudin? There's no end to this besides the end we're giving it."

Wyatt was impressed. For someone relatively off their medication most of the time, Angie was making a surprising amount of sense. Still, he felt guilty. Not just for what was going to happen to Calvin, but also for taking advantage of Angie's mental illness. But, much like he'd done with Calvin, he did everything he could to persuade her not to follow him, and she wouldn't listen. Like she said, blinders. After a bit of driving they finally arrived at the river, and Wyatt parked. He knew Calvin wouldn't be here for a while, and for that he was relieved. Would give him some time to come to terms with what was about to go down. Wyatt climbed out of the car and sat on the hood, opening a can of soda he'd brought with him. Angie sat down beside him and looked out at the water.

"At the compound," Angie said, "there was a river like this, and one day, early in the morning, this dad took his kids and his wife out to it and drowned them all before drowning himself. When the leader, Art Johnson, spoke about it later that day to everyone, he said that this man had done what he knew was best for his family. But...the thing is...most people don't know what's best for everyone, and it isn't fair for one person to go around making decisions that affect others on such dramatic levels. That's what Calvin's doing. That's what makes him dangerous."

"You don't still talk to this Art do you?" Wyatt asked, crossing his arms.

"Sometimes, through e-mail, but not consistantly," Angie replied, shrugging, "anyway, that's not the point, Wyatt, the point is that most men seem to believe that causing destruction is the key to control. You're the opposite. You're destructing the self destructive. That's admirable."

Wyatt smiled weakly. He appreciated Angie's kind words, especially tonight.

                                                                                                           ***

Celia was in her kitchen preparing dinner, her son sitting at the table reading a picture book. As she turned the oven on, her cell phone rang and she groaned. She picked it up and answered, continuing on her duties as she talked.

"Hello?" she asked, and then she stopped dead in her tracks, "...what do you want? No, I won't discuss this. You made your decision, leave us out of it. No, that's all I have to say about it. He doesn't wanna talk to you. We're about to have dinner anyway, goodbye."

With that, she hung up the phone and looked up over the stove to her son, who seemed undisturbed by the call. She exhaled slowly and tried to regain her composure. It'd been a while, after all, since she'd spoken to her ex-husband. Meanwhile, across the city, Rachel and Sun Rai were pulling up at Rachel's parents house. Parking in the driveway, Rachel sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly, clearly scared. Sun Rai kissed her on the cheek and put a hand on her back.

"Hey, we can go home," Sun Rai said, "we don't have to do this."

"I have to do this," Rachel said, "I...I have to."

Rachel undid her seatbelt and headed up the walkway, Sun Rai quickly catching up to her. As they stepped onto the porch, Rachel stared at the front door. The knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she swallowed her pride. She hadn't gone home proper in years, despite living not so far away from her parents. Being here now felt so surreal, especially with Sun Rai in tow. Rachel lifted her hand and rung the doorbell, knowing her mother preferred that to knocking. After a moment, the door swung open and her father, Scott, stood there, smiling at her.

"Rachel," he said, pulling her in and hugging her tight, much to her surprise; while hugging, he added, "you're just in time, dinner is ready right now."

Rachel took Sun Rai by the hand and led her into the house, Scott shutting the door behind them as he followed them to the kitchen. Rachel's mother, Elizabeth, was plating the table, dishes full of food in the center so everyone could serve themselves, just like she had always done. In a way, it suddenly felt like Rachel had never grown up and left this place. Stepping back in felt just like going back in time. As they entered, Elizabeth looked up and smiled too.

"You're here!" she said, excitedly.

"I am here, yes," Rachel said, opting not to hug her mother.

"Well please, have a seat, we're about to eat!" Elizabeth said, and so Rachel and Sun Rai did as they were instructed. So far, this was pleasant, and Rachel didn't know what to make of it. But of course, first impressions are often wrong, as she'd learn soon enough. It was weird, Rachel thought, to feel like a kid again when she was a full ass adult, but...perhaps that was just the effect parents had on ones mental faculties. Sun Rai patted Rachel on the back as they sat down, and then, as Elizabeth brought them plates to work with, Sun Rai leaned in and kissed Rachel on the side of the head, knowing that eased her pain. Rachel saw the look on her mothers face the instant Sun Rais lips made contact with her skull. This was going to be the same as it always had been. A mistake.

Elsewhere, Calvin tucked his pistol into the back of his pants under his belt and looked at himself in the mirror. He exhaled. Tonight, tonight after meeting with Wyatt, he was going to head to Leslie Grudin's house, kill her daughter in front of her, and then kill her. Then he'd come home and decide what to do with Ricky. On one hand, Ricky was an innocent, but on the other hand, more witnesses meant more credibility to their eventual testimony, and he couldn't risk that. He'd probably kill Ricky too, much as he hated the idea. Poor guy didn't know what he was getting involved with. Calvin ran his hand through his hair and exited the bathroom. As he headed down the stairs, he stopped and looked at a frame photo on the wall of himself, his wife and their daughter. He reached out and touched it gently, smiling, before continuing down the stairs. Once he reached the landing, he saw his mom and dad watching TV on the couch. His mom looked over her shoulder at him and waved.

"You going somewhere?" she asked.

"Yeah," Calvin said, "I have an errand to run, meeting with someone, but I'll be back a little later. If you guys are in bed, I'll try to be quiet."

"Just drive safe," his dad said, and Calvin nodded.

"Love you guys," Calvin said as he grabbed the doorknob and opened the front door.

"Love you," the replied in unison, and then he exited. Calvin headed down the driveway, got into his car and started it up. He turned the radio off, opting for silence instead, and headed towards the river. Whatever Wyatt wanted, he knew it wouldn't last long. He'd already made his decision, and nobody was going to talk him out of it. Thing was, Wyatt had made his decision as well, and only one of them could come out of it unscathed.

                                                                                                             ***

"I always saw myself as a pirate," Wyatt said, making Angie chuckle; Wyatt smirked and shrugged, adding, "I mean, I know it's not, like, a legitimate career field, but hey, I was 9. I certainly never saw myself working for my father, taking over his store and stuff. I don't dislike it, but at the same time..."

"You wish you'd been a pirate?" Angie asked, and he nodded, the both of them laughing.

"Life just never goes the way you want, even when you plan it to a tee," Wyatt said, "I mean, god, if I'd known what my life was going to become simply by attending my high school reunion, I doubt I would've done that too. Everything since then has become so unstable. Course, that'd mean not knowing Rachel or Kelly or Celia, but...do the pros outweigh the cons, that's the question? The cons have been pretty...con."

"I wish my parents hadn't left the church," Angie said, "so I know what you mean. I'd planned to spend my whole life there, serving Art, spreading the word, but now I feel like I'm drowning in a world I don't understand. Meeting you was like being thrown a life preserver in an ocean of confusion, finally, something that makes sense, reaching out to save me."

Wyatt felt his stomach drop. Angie was looking for something to make sense of the world, and here he was, taking advantage of that, even if it was what she wanted.

"I'm not someone to worship," Wyatt said, "I hope you know that."

"I'm not helping you cause I worship you," Angie said, "I'm helping you because, as you said so convincingly, it's the right thing to do. Worshipping you is a whole other thing. The two are unrelated. But you were right. We need to do something. He can't continue to do these things. That man at the compound, he hurt his own family, but Calvin's going to hurt someone elses family, and that just doesn't seem right. Not that hurting your own family is right, but, you know what I mean."

"I do," Wyatt said, "...and you're right."

Just then they heard a car pulling up behind them and were illuminated by headlights. The car parked and Calvin climbed out, surprised to see Angie.

"Hey Calvin," Wyatt said, "glad you could make it."

                                                                                                       ***

"How's work?" Elizabeth asked, spearing potatos on her fork, "have you been painting?"

"I work in a coffee shop," Rachel said, "Actually we both do. We work together. But I guess I've been painting, with my friend Scarlett. She does art therapy with her daughter once a week, and I go to that. It's just at their house, but it's a good way to be social and do some painting."

"Well that's good. I always thought you had more talent that you regularly presented," Elizabeth said as she started eating her potatoes from her fork.

"Yeah I'm glad to know you haven't given up," Scott said as he picked up his glass and took a sip, "I always thought you could've had more success than you tried for."

"I tried for it and it almost got me raped," Rachel said sternly, surprising all three of them. Elizabeth, after a moment, exhaled, shrugged and speared a piece of meat.

"Well," she said, "I guess that explains this then."

Rachel's eyes widened.

"Explains what?" she asked.

"This attempt at being modern," Elizabeth said, "don't get me wrong, I get it, we all give into fads when they're cool, and there's nothing cooler today than being queer, but at some point you have to wonder if it's worth the effort. But, if a man tried to hurt you, it makes sense you'd go for a woman."

"I liked women long before he did that," Rachel snarled, "jesus, this is exactly what I expected."

Rachel stood up and tugged at Sun Rai's hand, who didn't even need much help getting up, as she was already in the process as well.

"Stop being dramatic, we're trying to better things," Scott said.

"You know," Rachel said, "you remember Kelly? She fell out of the fucking sky recently. A whole plane crashed, and she was the only survivor. She's going to get a prosthetic leg and yet, her parents let her move back home and are taking care of her, helping her recover. That's what parents do. They don't belittle every single choice, or non choice, that their child has. I chose to paint, and you turned it into a career, not because you believed in me, but because you saw a viable ability to retire on the back of. I love women and you make it because I can't 'trust' men when one of my closest friends is a man. Kelly's parents love me, and my own can't. Do you have any idea how alone I feel?"

"If you feel so alone, then stop running away from people who're trying to help you," Elizabeth said, and that was all she needed to say. Rachel walked briskly out of the house, Sun Rai right behind her. Out in the driveway, Rachel tried to get the car keys from her coat pocket, but fumbled, dropping them on the ground. She leaned against the car and breathed fast, heavy. Sun Rai gathered the keys and opened the car, telling Rachel to get into the passenger seat, which she did. Sun Rai started the car and pulled away from the house, racing down the street. She'd never seen such viciousness directed to someones child. Her parents had given her a bit of grief from time to time, but nothing like this. This vile, unadulterated hatred that Rachel apparently had to endure her entire life. After a bit Sun Rai pulled over in a parking lot of a convenience store, and parked.

"Are you okay?" Sun Rai asked, and Rachel, doing her best not to sob, just shook her head.

"It's not me, I have to remember it isn't me," Rachel said, her voice shaky, "but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, because, fuck, why would anyone treat their child like this?"

"That was...intensely awful," Sun Rai said, "I'm so fucking sorry you had to grow up with that."

"I just want my parents to love me," Rachel whispered, "god that's so depressing."

"I love you," Sun Rai said, making Rachel turn and look at her, smiling weakly as Sun added, "you have friends who love you, and you have Kelly's parents, and...Rachel, I...I don't know what to say to make any of this better, but I love you. Look, you wanted two things for a majority of your life. For your parents to love you, and for me to love you. Which one is worth more?"

Rachel smiled more, and leaned in, kissing Sun Rai. She was right. She was so right. This love was more than her parents could ever give her, and she was happy enough with that.

                                                                                                              ***

"Didn't know we'd have company," Calvin said, approaching the river.

"Well," Wyatt said, "can't hurt to have more than one mind on something, can it? Anyway she's more for moral support thann anything. Calvin, what you're thinking of doing...I mean, I know I can't stop you or probably even change your mind, but think about what you're actually doing. Everything you've done thusfar has been in the name of protecting children. Grudin killed your daughter, so you killed Grudin. Brighton hurt his daughters, so we eliminated his work from the world. Wattson worked for an empire of child abuse, so you took care of him. Everything you've done has been for the sake of saving kids, and now you wanna turn around and kill someone elses?"

"It isn't about her," Calvin said, "it's...it's about him. It's about Grudin. Any trace of him in this world existing, it isn't fair. It isn't right."

"She's a child, Calvin, christ," Wyatt said, "look, we'll come up with something together, okay? I know that having his wife bearing down on us isn't great, and yes, something has to be done about it, but...we'll figure it out together, okay?"

Calvin walked to the river and looked out, listening to the sound of it, the sound of the crickets, and he sighed.

"I just wanted to make things right, but no amount of anything will make things right. There's no getting it right," Calvin said, pulling the gun from the back of his belt and adding, "what I loved is gone, and there's no righting that wrong. The world is awful, so I'm just trying to make it less awful."

"But you're doing the same things you don't want others doing," Wyatt said, "Calvin-"

"I'm sorry Wyatt, I have to do this," Calvin whispered, and Wyatt sighed. That was it. There was no changing his mind. Wyatt put his hand on Angie's shoulder and turned, heading back to the car. Wyatt got into the car as Angie approached Calvin, standing beside him.

"You know," Angie said, "my family used to belong to a cult. I watched plenty of people die for no good reason. Some took their own lives, some took the lives of others, their own families, all for the sake of what they thought was the right reasons. Your wife and daughter, you're right, it isn't fair that they were taken the way they were from you, and you have every right to be mad and want justice. I won't even do the cliche thing and say 'think about what they would want you to do' because they're dead, how they feel is irrelevant. But Calvin, everyone has a choice. On the chance and afterlife of some kind exists, the things you've done are justifiable to an extent, but this? This wouldn't be. This would keep you away from them for all eternity. Do you want that? To lose them twice?"

Calvin started crying and lowered the gun, shaking his head.

"Give me the gun," Angie whispered, and she carefully took it from his hand, backing up a bit behind him, "Calvin, that's what you have to ask. What do you want most in the whole universe?"

"...to be with them again," Calvin whispered, as Angie raised the gun behind his head.

"Then today's your lucky day," she said softly, pulling the trigger. Calvin dropped, landing face first in the water, the lower half of his body still on the riverbank. Wyatt shut his eyes and dropped his forehead against the steering wheel, sobbing. He'd done everything he could've to prevent this. He did. He did he did he did. The passenger door opened and Angie climbed in, exhaling. Neither one said a word. Wyatt had made good on his threat. He had told Calvin he'd kill him, and in a way, he had. How was he going to go on with this guilt?

"Now what?" Angie asked, but Wyatt couldn't respond. Angie instead leaned against him, rubbing his back, speaking softly, "it's okay. You're okay. We're all okay."

                                                                                                         ***

"Hey," Wyatt said, approaching the metal picnic table out on the courtyard, Calvin looking up from his bagged lunch; Wyatt continued, "Can I sit here?"

"I can't stop you," Calvin said, shrugging, "not sure why you'd want to. Don't you wanna sit with the team?"

"The cumraderie gets to be too much," Wyatt said, "sometimes I don't wanna be reminded of being a part of a team like that. I like my solitude."

A few seconds later, Amelia sat down as well next to Calvin, smiling across the table at Calvin.

"Hi," Amelia said, opening her notebook.

"Amelia, this is Wyatt, he's on the baseball team," Calvin said.

"Hey," Wyatt said, grinning, making Amelia blush; Wyatt unwrapped his sandwich and took a big bite, then added, "I see you guys out here everyday, just figured it'd be nice to be around other people who have no interest in being social. Feels like more my speed sometimes."

"Doesn't make us friends," Calvin said, turning his attention back to his book.

"Hey, we don't need to be friends, we can just occupy space without acknowledging one another, it's just lunch," Wyatt said, opening his soda and taking a long drink as Amelia nudged her brother with her elbow.

"Come on," Amelia said, "it wouldn't kill you to make a friend."

John Potter Krickett's alarm went off, and he opened his eyes slowly. Groggily. He groaned, rolled over and turned it off before continuing to lay in bed for a bit longer. Not too long though, he had something important to do today. When he did finally manage to pull himself together long enough to get out of bed, he dragged himself to the bathroom and took a shower, then shaved. Looking at himself in the mirror, he almost didn't recognize the man looking back at him. He wiped some more of the steam away from the glass, and that's when he noticed it. John reached out and touched one, lone, silver hair on his head, and he grinned. He was gonna make it after all. John then got dressed, gathered his things, got in his car and drove to the diner.

Sitting in his side of the booth, eating breakfast alone, sipping his coffee, he couldn't help but think about how hard the last few weeks had been. Loss, he'd once said, can feel monumental. Insurmountable. And he felt that now himself more than ever. He glanced up across the table, at where Boris should be, and he couldn't help but have to choke back tears. John continued eating. Drinking. Life goes on, even when it doesn't for others. After breakfast, John headed to the church, only to find Sister Jenn there, doing preparations. He tried to hurry by her, but she wasn't about to let that happen.

"You know," Jenn said, "I'm thinking that we use some of the flowers from the nursing home. Carol told me that they started a flower garden there, and added a bunch more when a resident accidentally got flowers before they died, so I thought it would be a nice little thing to connect him to it."

"That sounds fine," John said, hurrying into his office and shutting the door behind him. He wasn't trying to be rude, she knew this, and she also wasn't going to push it. John set his things down on the desk, and then he checked his watch. He had to pick something up in a few hours. He couldn't be late for that. The door opened and John glanced in that direction, only to see Melody, of all people, coming slowly inside.

"Hi," Melody said meekly.

"Please, come in, close the door behind you," John replied.

Melody shut the door behind her as he requested, then sat down in the chair in front of his desk. John sat down opposite of her and smiled.

"Surprised to see you here," he said.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said.

"Well," John said, "the church is always welcoming, at least mine is. Is there anything I can do to help you today?"

Melody shifted uncomfortably in the chair and crossed her legs. She'd stopped using the wheelchair a few days ago, felt she was strong enough to walk on her own now. She was still staying in the apartment, however, in Boris's room, until she decided what to do.

"I just don't understand, I guess," Melody said, "I don't...I don't get it. We spent so little time together, and yet the impact it had on me...it's made me question everything. He gave me his car. Well, apparently it wasn't even his, but a friends who left it to him. He told me he wanted me to go somewhere with it. Have adventures. But what if I don't want to do that?"

"You're not legally required to abide by his wishes," John replied, chuckling, "it was just a suggestion, not a demand."

"Yeah but...he said he saw in me what he felt in himself. This sense of being trapped, wanting to be free, but unsure what to do with that freedom and feeling like being trapped is the safer option. I think he did understand me, in that sense. He told me, a little bit after I was recovering in the apartment, that the night he found me, he'd been planning to kill himself."

This caught John's attention. Boris had never mentioned this to him. He knew Boris had had a history of depression, feeling hopeless, but he'd never once brought up the fact that he'd actually attempted, or had planned to. John cupped his hands on his desktop and leaned forward, curious to hear more.

"I never knew that," John said.

"I asked the old woman he was friends with, what's her name, Carol? She said he'd planned to do it before too, a long time ago, at the home, but that he'd stopped because a little girl doing volunteer service reminded him of his daughter. Seems like a lot of his life was propelled forward by women. And not women doing things for him, but just women, in general, being there. He seems like he so badly wanted to make up for his mistakes towards the women in his life, from his past, that he was willing to go above and beyond for the women he met later."

"It was admirable," John said, nodding, "and now you're part of that elite group. Have you decided what you're going to do yet?"

"I really don't know. I'd like to go somewhere, but...but I don't know where," Melody said, "he left me a lot of money. I was with him when he was working on his will, and he didn't say it in front of me, but he did it anyway. I could go anywhere. Have a new life. And it's all thanks to him. I want to get better. Do better. That's what he did. I wanna do the same."

"Then Melody, I think that's what you should do," John said, reaching across the table and touching her hand, "you deserve a fresh start, everyone does, and you're getting the chance to have that."

Melody nodded and sniffled, wiping her nose on her arm. She stood up and walked towards the door, ready to go and pack Polly's Gremlin, when she stopped and looked at John.

"You were with him, right? When it happened?" she asked.

"No. I had stepped out momentarily. Well, more like he'd ordered me to leave. I think he knew. I don't think he wanted me to be there. But I'm mad I wasn't. Not mad at him, just mad in general. I wanted to see it through to the end, and he...he decided I didn't need that, so I suppose he knew best but it still hurts," John said, "why?"

"Don't hold yourself too accountable," Melody replied, shrugging, "that's all."

With that she exited his office, leaving John to sat at his desk and think. Did he hold himself accountable? No. He didn't. He'd done everything in his power to be there with Boris, to help him, and he didn't blame himself for anything. If Boris didn't want him there right at the end, that was his decision, and he would respect that. John stood up and checked his watch again. He had to get some other things ready before the pickup. He told Jenn he'd return to the church in a bit, and left in a rush.

                                                                                                                ***

"What the fresh hell is this?" Carol asked, "what am I even looking at right now?"

"It's an old family recipe," Burt replied, "it's a special stew we often make for honoring the deceased."

"It smells like old socks mixed with...older socks," Carol said, sniffing it, then flapping her hand in front of her face, "oh well, thank you, Burt, I appreciate the help."

Carol turned and walked a bit away from the kitchen area of the venue. Burt put the large ladle down and untied the apron, hanging it off the back of a chair as he approached her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Burt asked, and Carol shrugged.

"What's to talk about? Death happens every day around here," Carol said.

"Sure, but...but this is Boris, this is different," Burt said, sitting down from Carol across a table; Burt sighed and put his hands on the table, fidgeting, as he added, "I mean, he was our friend. He was close to us. Moreso you than me, but still. You don't want to say anything about that?"

Carol didn't reply. She just stared at the tabletop. Burt sighed and began to get up, when Carol spoke, stopping him.

"The last conversation I had with him," Carol said, "I had it under the intention of it being the last. A sort of...precautionary thing, you know? Knowing it could be the last time we spoke. But...even with the knowledge, you're not ready for it if it is the last time. I thought we'd talk again. I didn't...I didn't know he'd die that night."

Burt sat back down and listened. Carol sniffled, wiped at her eyes, and continued.

"You always think there's more time. But there's not. There's not more time. We have...a finite amount. Some of us don't even have the same amount. I wanted more time. I wanted...I wanted another conversation. But this is what we get, Burt, we get this much time and that's it, no more, no less. A life dictated by the passage of time. But he did so much with it. He did so much for others with it. I just hope, at the end, he saw the differences he'd made, and the changes he'd undergone. He wanted so badly to be better. I hope to god he knew he attained it."

A pause, as a few workers shuffled in and headed past them, carrying some supplies. Once they were gone, Carol sighed.

"He let me read a poem he wrote once. You are the phone call that never comes, the package that is never delivered, the pair of shoes that is never sold; you are here, but unable to be attained, and you like it better that way. That way you always have someone to blame, but I feel the shame, believe me I do, and I would do anything for you, I hope this reaches you. I think...I think he knew how hard it was to connect with others, and that's why he avoided it for as long as possible, until he knew he couldn't anymore. He wanted to give himself to someone so badly, but he was so afraid to."

The doors opened again, and the same workers walked by, this time exiting the opposite way. Carol wiped at her face once more, her breathing shaky.

"All we have is this. Time. Eachother. Why live our lives wanting more when we have enough?" Carol asked, "So I'm gonna do what he did. I'm gonna be better. Work harder. Already bought the nursing home as a way to make up for things to folks around here. May as well keep going down that path, because...because if Boris can do it, hell, anyone can."

Burt smiled and stood up. He walked back towards the kitchen, stopping behind Carol and kissing the top of her head, making her smile.

"...I really wanted one more conversation," she mumbled.

                                                                                                         ***

"Is this it?" John asked, standing in front of a medium size silver cup shaped aparatus.

"That's it," the woman behind the desk said, as John stood and stared at it.

"...it's weird, an entire person, filling up something like this," John said, reaching out, then pulling his hands back,  hesitantly, before adding, softly, "funny how someone so big can seem so small."

John reached out again and grasped the urn, pulling it to him. He lifted it up and read Boris's name on the little plaque, and felt a lump catch in his throat. How. How could...this was like some sort of awful nightmare. The last few weeks had felt like some sort of awful nightmare. He'd wake up anytime now. He'd wake up, and it'd be morning, and he'd go to breakfast and there the old man would be. He'd be there, waiting, ready to eat. Ready to talk. But he knew, deep down inside him, this wasn't the case.

"Tha...thank you, uh, thank you for your services," John said, before turning and heading out, urn in hand. As he got into his car, he put the urn in the passenger seat, then buckled a seatbelt around it. John started his car and pulled out, heading towards the church, but then...he turned, and headed somewhere else. The service wasn't being held at the church, but he wasn't going there either. He was going somewhere special.

John drove for a good while, about 45 minutes, before he finally pulled over and parked once more. John got out, grabbed the urn, and, tucking it under his arm, headed across the parking lot. He stopped at the wall and placed the urn on the ledge, leaning against it and staring out at the view. John had driven them to the top of a hill, a place people often camped, and he'd walked down a little trail to get to a specific scenic view campers and tourists often visited. John reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He lifted it to his lips, took a few puffs, then exhaled into the air.

"I had to do this before we went to the service," John said, "cause, well, you didn't let me say goodbye, really. Kind of a dick move, Boris, not gonna lie. I get it, I'm not gonna judge you for it, but dammit, you could've...mmm. No, I said I'm not gonna judge you and I won't. I get it. I really do. I appreciate that you were doing it for me, to spare me the pain. You never wanted to hurt me. I'm just...mad, I guess."

John took another long puff, then exhaled.

"Not at you, of course, but the universe. I devote my life to the worship of a God I'm constantly told hates me for my sexuality, continually takes away men I love, and I'm still here, still doing it. Because, I guess, I don't believe in that God. I believe in A God. But not that God. The God I believe in lets me be myself, and loves me for it, and lets me have those men in my life to begin with. I guess it's all a matter of perspective. But I'm mad. Mad that I finally meet the person I'm so clearly designed for, only for him to be so old, so we can't have a full life together. But the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that...the life we had did have...it was so special. No other life would be like what we had. Even if it was brief, it was spectacular, and I'm so...I feel so lucky."

Another pause. Another puff. Another exhale.

"I used to come here to clear my head, on bad days or maybe days where I felt particularly ashamed of stuff," John continued, "I always wanted to come here with you, but I kept forgetting to do it, and then once you got so sick, I don't know, it just seemed cruel to make you have to walk so far, so uphill. But the view is amazing, and that's what I wanted you to see. Before I met you, I was at the bottom of the hill, and the view was fine, boring, but fine. Now I'm on top of the hill, and the view is unlike anything I've ever seen, and I don't want to lose that. I wanted to share it with you now, since I couldn't before. I know it probably certifies me as a grade a weirdo to be talking to an urn full of ashes, but hey, you do what you need to do to deal, you know?"

John looked at the urn and shook his head, chuckling.

"I don't know why I keep expecting you to respond," he said, "you can't. But I keep waiting for some sort of snarky comment, some kind of pithy comeback. But it's over. Those days are over. It was nice while it lasted. Now we have new days, I guess, to look forward to."

With that, John put out his cigarette and tossed the butt off the edge, before picking the urn up and smiling at it, holding it at face level.

"Well, come on you old bastard," he said, "let's go to your funeral."

                                                                                                             ***

The service was lovely. Low key, low effort, just as Boris would've wanted it, but it was perfect. And everyone had come. Chrissy's parents had let her come, and come along with her. Whittle and Jenn, of course, had shown up. Carol had taken care of the flowers, Burt had helped with the food. Ellen, her wife, and Lorraine were there. And everyone was, more or less, in good spirits. In fact, everyone was so cheerful, you'd have a hard time believing it was a wake. Despite getting cremated and given to John, Boris did have a headstone placed, appropriately enough, right next to Polly. Always annoying one another forever now.

The only person not openly enjoying themselves amongst the others was John, who was hiding out in a backroom, at least until Carol entered the room, surprising both of them, as neither had expected someone to either be back here or come back here. Carol shut the door behind her and locked it, then walked towards the white bench built into the wall where John was sitting, the urn in his lap, and sat herself down beside him. She took a long breath, then looked down at the urn.

"Is that him?" she asked.

John just nodded. Carol looked from the urn up to John, and reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked, "I know nobody ever asks the priest. Everyone always expects comfort from them, not to be giving comfort to them."

"That's the first time in the last few weeks anyone has asked if I'm okay," John said, "I've had to counsel others. Listen to people tell me their sins, expose their souls, ask for forgiveness. Course these are all strangers, so why should they ask if I'm okay. But not even Jenn, or Whittle, not a single person has asked. So thank you Carol."

"I never..." Carol started, blinking a few times before continuing, "I never really understood it, but I was happy about it. I know he talked about wanting to become better, he talked about it at the home, but I don't...frankly, John, I don't think that would've happened had it not been for you. I think you gave him reason. Whatever he did, it was always in the hope of being better for you."

John nodded, his hands running down the urn. John bit his lip, trying not to cry. Carol reached over and put her hand on his back, rubbing gently.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"No, I...I appreciate it," John said, "I don't think it's entirely truthful that he did it just for me, though. I think he did it for everyone, including himself. I hope he knows how proud of him I was. I just...I can't believe he's gone. I'll be gone too soon, at least for a little while."

Carol cocked her head, confused.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

"I gotta get out of town," John said, "gonna go home, see the family, and just...take a little me time. It's been a weird few years. I just...I need some time to clear my head, get myself back together. Need to help myself for a change before I can go back to helping others, you know?"

Carol nodded, smiled and patted him on the back again.

"You do what you gotta," Carol said, "we'll be here when you get back."

"It was a lovely service," John said, "Except for that horrible stew Burt made."

"I told him not to serve it, but he refuses to listen to reason," Carol said, the both of them laughing.

                                                                                                            ***

John stopped at the gas station and pulled over by the pumps. He climbed out and started filling his tank, looking around, his sunglasses protecting him from the harsh late day sunlight.

"Hey stranger," a voice said, and John turned to see Melody.

"Oh, hi," John replied, grinning. Melody too was filling the Gremlin, at the pump right behind John; John pulled his sunglasses off and asked, "what are you...you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, you?" Melody asked.

"Yeah, I am," John said, "figured I could use a vacation. Jenn can handle the church for a while, and we have other priests. I just need to get out of town for a bit, you know? After everything that happened it feels...justifiable."

"Certainly," Melody said, reaching back into the car, adding, "by the way, when we were clearing out Boris's room, looking for stuff for the funeral, I came across this and thought you should have it."

After a moment of digging around, Melody reappeared, now holding a small rectangular piece of paper. She handed it to John, who took it, after slowly turning it over, grinned widely. It was a photograph. A photo of himself and Boris at the diner. Melody shrugged.

"I didn't really see any value in keeping it, and...and I didn't see any reason it should be used for the service, but...I figured you might need it," she said.

"I remember this day," John said, tapping it with his finger, "yeah, yeah I...I remember this day. We were having breakfast, and we were discussing if maybe ghosts or spirits were simply a subdivision of angels, created solely to helo perpetuate the belief of the afterlife."

Melody laughed, which made John chuckle.

"Yeah, that's...that's kind of how we were," John continued, "anyway, there was a woman there taking photos for the dinner, I guess it was their anniversary of being open, don't remember the year, doesn't matter. Anyway she took snapshots of most of the people there. I just figured, ya know, it'd go on the wall there and that would be that. I didn't..."

John felt his breathing get shaky, and he paused, took a breath, then continued.

"I didn't know he kept one," John said, "but I guess it makes sense he did. He was kind of sentimental like that, even if he didn't show it. Thank you, Melody, for giving me this. Thank you very much."

Melody shrugged and put the nozzle back onto the gas pump before getting into Polly's Gremlin, then stopping and getting back out. She leaned over the door and snapped her fingers at John, who looked back up at her from the photo.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"When are you getting back?" she asked.

"I don't know, a few weeks maybe, why?" John asked.

"Because we should have lunch," Melody said, "...I feel like I could use the guidance of a priest, believe it or not."

"I'd be glad to help," John said, nodding, smiling. Melody climbed into the Gremlin, and John did the same. As he did, he went to put the photo on the sun visor. As he pulled it down, something fell from inside and landed between his legs. John furrowed his brow, then reached down and picked up, of all things, his prayer beads.

"You gotta be kidding me," he mumbled, then strung them up over the rearview mirror, placed the photo where he wanted it, and pulled out of the gas station at one exit before looking to the opposite side and seeing Melody waiting to leave. Melody looked towards John, and they just nodded at one another, before both turning in opposite directions, and driving away. As he drove away, heading to the road that lead out of the city, John glanced at the urn sitting in the passenger seat and shook his head.

"Well," John said, slipping his sunglasses back onto his face and putting his hand back on the steering wheel, "guess we'll get that life together after all, eh? You might not've been able to spend your whole life with me, but you afterlife is another story. So buckle up, buddy. It's time for a new adventure."

And with that, John Potter Crickett shifted onto the freeway, and off to something new, Boris by his side.

Wyatt was sitting on the bleachers of the baseball field, staring at the ground. He was still in uniform, and everyone else had left ages ago, it was just him now. He could've gone home, but he just didn't want to. He sighed, pulled his cap off and ran a hand through his hair. That's when he heard the sound of someone approaching, and looked up to see his father, Rufus, coming up to the bleachers, hands in his pants pockets. He must've come right from work, he was still in his suit.

"You alright? Mother said you didn't come home, so I figured I'd find you here," Rufus said.

"I'm....whatever," Wyatt replied, shaking his head. Rufus sat down on the bleachers and exhaled, putting his hands on his knees.

"You know," Rufus said, "this isn't exactly a bad thing. I know it sucks, but...it is what it is. If anything, what you're doing is going to only improve your life down the road. I know it hurts now, but...now is now. Everything hurts in the moment. She wasn't right for you."

"She was perfect for me," Wyatt muttered, sniffling, "and...and I didn't wanna hurt her like that."

"Course you didn't, nobody wants to hurt someone they're dating, or, I mean, sometimes they do but breakups are rarely intentionally cruel," Rufus said, "but Wyatt, you gotta pull yourself tgether. It's what's best for both of you, alright? This Scarlett girl, she's far more your type, she's gonna do wonders for you, trust me on that. That other girl, what was her name, Amelia? You guys were just too different."

"No, we weren't," Wyatt said, "you and she were."

Rufus and Wyatt stared at one another, and Wyatt knew underneath that this comment had made his fathers blood boil. Anytime he managed to stand up, say his father was a bastard, even in a thinly veiled way, enraged him, and that's the way Wyatt liked it.

"Either way, it's good all around. And you know what they say, a good compromise always leaves everyone angry," Rufus replied, smacking his son on the back, "get in the car, we'll go get dinner."

                                                                                                               ***

"This is delicious," Angie said through her full mouth, the enormous burger clenched tightly in her hands; Wyatt had picked her up and invited her out to lunch during his downtime at work, and offered to pay even. Angie couldn't say no to such a treat as this.

"I told you it was a good place," Wyatt remarked, using a toothpick, "their cheese fries in particular are a thing of beauty."

"Isn't it weird how cheese goes with almost everything? It's one of the very few foods that can be adapted to almost any dish, and instantly improves it threefold," Angie said, "you just...don't ever think about how magical it is."

"Did you just call cheese magical?" Wyatt asked, laughing lightly.

He liked Angie well enough, but he was putting on a particularly nice front today, because he needed a favor. A big favor. The kind of favor that could ultimately change a life forever, and he didn't want her to say no. Angie continued eating as Wyatt leaned back in his chair and continued picking at his teeth. He'd barely slept last night, instead staying up, revisiting childhood memories in his head, and when he wasn't doing that, he was spending all his time worrying about today, and what was to come after as a result.

"Listen," Wyatt said, finally tossing the toothpick on the table, as Angie looked up midchew; he sighed and leaned forward, "I need you to do something."

Angie chewed slowly, listening.

"I..." Wyatt said, his voice low, running a hand through his hair as he looked around to ensure nobody would hear him, "...I need you to kill someone."

                                                                                                         ***

The door to the shed opened, and Ricky opened his eyes. The sunlight was refreshing, albeit brief. Calvin had covered up the windows, seemingly just to punish Ricky, so he took whatever little slivers of sunlight he could steal. Calvin entered the shed and shut the door behind, then set whatever it was he brought with him on the workshop table. Calvin didn't even look at Ricky, let alone say a word to him, so Ricky just kept quiet. After a little bit, Calvin reached up to a small metal box on a shelf and pulled it down, setting it on the table alongside the other things, and then finally turned to face Ricky, which made Ricky tense up.

"I've been thinking about what you said," Calvin said, "remember, the other day when you asked what good could come killing an innocent child? You're right. No good can come from it. His wife is the one who really deserves to hurt, and I can't think of a better way to make she she feels the same kind of loss I have than by making her watch her child die in front of her, while she's helpless to stop it, just like I had to."

Ricky got a chill and shook his head.

"No, no man, weren't you doing all this to protect children? You were harming people because they were hurting children, and now you're gonna sink to the same level and still claim moral superiority? You don't get to do that."

"That's the thing, Rick," Calvin said, opening the steel box and reaching in, "I do get to do that. They say two wrongs don't make a right, but that's what I've learned, is that nobody cares about doing what's right. You can try, but you're never doing enough. Someone else is always in the crosshairs."

Calvin pulled his pistol from the box and Ricky felt his skin goosebump. Calvin turned and looked at Ricky, then opened the barrel to check how many bullets were in it, before shutting it again and looking back at Ricky.

"Dude, listen to me," Ricky said, "there's other aveues you can take. What happened to you? That was awful. Unforgiveable. I can't even imagine what it must've been like to-"

"No, that's the thing, you can't. You can't imagine it. You're right," Calvin said, "because it's a special kind of hell reserved for only to unluckiest of souls. To spend your whole believing you're not worthy of being loved, of watching your sister get hurt by people who claimed to love her, and then to somehow get lucky enough to meet someone who does love you? Loves you so much that they don't want anyone else? Someone who loves you enough that they want to marry you, start a family? Only to have that taken from you? Yeah. You can't imagine that. There's plenty of ways one could imagine that kind of loss, grief, pain that someone is experiencing because so much pain IS universal. But this kind of pain? This is unique, and I wouldn't want someone else to feel it."

"Someone except the one who caused it? But she didn't even cause it," Ricky said, and Calvin raised the gun, putting the barrel right between Ricky's eyes; Ricky grimaced and shut his eyes, ready to feel the eternal nothing, but instead he felt the cold metal leave his skin and opened one eye again, to see Calvin putting the gun in the back of his pants, under his belt.

"I'm gonna bring us some coffee, snacks, and then you're gonna tell me everything you know about her like I said," Calvin said, turning and heading back to the door, grabbing the knob, then asking, "Two sugars?"

"P...please, if you don't mind," Ricky said, as Calvin nodded and shut the door. Ricky unclenched his body and swore that he hadn't peed himself since childhood but goddamn if he didn't just come close.

                                                                                                            ***

Sun Rai was in the kitchen, doing dishes, when Rachel came in, putting the cordless phone down on the base. Sun Rai turned and looked at her, surprised by the somewhat eager look on her face. Sun Rai then dried her hands and turned to face Rachel as she came further into the kitchen.

"What are you so happy about?" Sun Rai asked.

"I wouldn't say happy, hopeful is maybe a better word," Rachel said, "I just got off the phone with my mother and I don't want to tear my skin off, so that's progress. Anyway, she invited me to dinner, and I asked if my partner could come, and she said sure. She said she was interested in meeting who I was dating."

"Wait wait wait," Sun Rai said, shaking her hands, "wait a minute, aren't you not out to your parents?"

"I wanna change that," Rachel said, "a friend told me the other day that, like...a lot of stuff I'd been blaming myself for for years aren't my fault, and ya know what? Neither is my shame about who I am. That's associated entirely with my folks. I'm not ashamed of myself, I'm ashamed that they would be ashamed of me, but I wanna try regardless. If you're comfortable with that, I mean."

Sun Rai walked up to Rachel and took her face in her hands, planting her lips on Rachel's, with Rachel happily kissing her back.

"Only if you're sure," Sun Rai said, "I'll do anything you want. I want to support you."

"And maybe I can start coming to your folks, helping you with your dad and stuff? I mean, that's...that's what partners do, right? We share one anothers lives."

"I'd love if you did," Sun Rai said, leaning back in and kissing her again. Rachel was terrified, she couldn't deny that, but at this point, after all she'd been through, been a part of, god, being openly queer was the last thing she should ever be scared of, no matter what her parents reactions might be. And really, it didn't matter. All that mattered was her happiness, and right now had that in spades, kissing the girl she'd loved a good percentage of her life in her kitchen, and nobody could take that away from her.

                                                                                                         ***

Angie was staring at Wyatt, still chewing. She finished chewing, picked up her glass and took a long sip, then set the glass back down on the table and folded her arms.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"You said you'd help me," Wyatt said, "you said...you said I saved your life, that unlike Brighton I was a selfless kind of savior, and you'd rather help me than someone who was nothing more than a wrongfully selected martyr responsible for horrible actions. Those were your words, Angie. So I need your help. Calvin is gonna kill a child. A mother too, but the child is my actual concern. This little girl is developmentally disabled, mentally challenged, and my own daughter has some of these types of issues. I...I'd feel personally responsible if I didn't try to stop him."

"How have you tried?"

"Every possible avenue has been exhausted at this point short of going to the police, but that would just incriminate all of us and I can't do that to Rachel and Celia," Wyatt said, looking down at the table,, at his hands, sniffling, "...Angie please. I don't know what else to do. Where else to turn. I...I need you."

Angie felt for Wyatt, she did. His words were coming from the heart, and he was doing this for a good reason. But she'd never killed anyone before. Could she even do it? She chewed on her lip and thought briefly. She exhaled and looked at the table.

"I wanna help you," she said, "and I would, but...but this is a big ask, Wyatt."

"I know. But rest assured, if anything comes of it as a result, I will make sure you aren't held responsible. I'll take the blame," Wyatt said, "you don't deserve to go down for something you're only tangentially related to. This is our mess, but...but right now we need help keeping it in check. If Calvin does what he's saying he'll do...he's gonna ruin all our lives in addition to murdering a child. Rachel doesn't deserve that. Celia has a son, she doesn't deserve to be taken away from him. If anything, I'm the only other one remotely responsible for what happened to Robert Grudin. I'll be the one taking the fall. But they don't deserve that."

Angie leaned back again and sighed. This was a huge thing to be asked, but Wyatt was doing this for such good reasons. Not only to save his friends from recourse, but also to save the life of a literal handicapped child.

"...how do we do it?" Angie asked.

"I have a plan," Wyatt said, "but...it's gonna be shaky."

"Like anything in my life has been anything but," Angie replied quietly.

                                                                                                            ***

That evening, Calvin made dinner for his folks. Something just told him, in his gut, to do something nice, likely to offset the evil shit he was about to attempt. Afterwards, while he was doing the dishes and his parents were watching TV in the living room, eating ice cream, he thought about some of the things Ricky had said, and he grimaced. He knew Ricky was right. Hell, he knew what he was going to do was wrong on so many levels, but...but the idea that Grudin's child was alive, the idea that Grudin's wife was coming after them, after everything Grudin took from him, it just made him so mad. Blinded him with irrational rage, allowing him to justify things he otherwise normally wouldn't. He set the brush down on the edge of the sink and put the wet plates on the side to dry when the landline on the wall rang. Calvin went and picked it up.

"Hello?" he asked.

"It's me," Wyatt said, "what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I have some plans, but not til much later in the evening, why?" Calvin asked.

"Cause I wanted to see if you wanted to meet, discuss some things. I think you need someone to talk to," Wyatt said, and Calvin paused, hesitant, chewing on his cheek.

"...you wanna talk to me? Because the last time you and I were alone, you told me you were going to kill me," Calvin said, "and now you wanna talk to me?"

"I just wanna talk with you before you go through with whatever it is you're planning on doing," Wyatt said, "just humor me. If I can't talk sense into you, then feel free to go along with your plan, but let's at least discuss it first, yeah?"

Calvin sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. He glanced towards the living room, hearing his parents laugh, and he scratched his forehead.

"Alright," Calvin said, "tomorrow evening. Maybe 7pm. Meet me by the river where we shredded the stuff from the unit."

"Sounds good," Wyatt said, before they each said goodbye and respectively hung up. Sitting in his car, Wyatt looked at his cell phone and shook his head. Angie bit into her ice cream cone and patted him on the back.

"This is the right thing, you know," she said, "he's dangerous."

"I know," Wyatt whispered. But it being the right thing didn't mean he wanted to go through with it. He wanted to actually find a middle ground they could agree on. Some other kind of less violent vengeance or something. But he knew it was of no use. He knew Calvin had made up his mind a long time ago. Wyatt started the car and began driving, taking Angie home. There was never a middle ground, and besides, like his father had tried to tell him, a good compromise always leaves everyone mad.

The church was beautiful.

All the efforts John and Jenn had put into it had paid off. Walking inside, John helping him along, Boris was impressed. He'd been inside a few churches in his life, but never one that felt this homey, this welcoming...one he'd willingly chosen to go to. John and Boris continued, until they reached the pew in the front right side and Boris sat down, groaning as he did, breathing heavily. John sat down beside him, crossing his legs, resting his elbows on the back of the pew. Neither one said a word for a while, just instead admiring the sight of the moonlight through the stained glass windows, the absence of sound, the birth of silence.

"...Is it true God is everywhere?" Boris asked, and John shrugged.

"Depends on your interpretation. Frankly, between you and me, I hope not. Bathroom time is private time," John said.

"But he's in every church," Boris said, and John nodded.

"Well, they're his home, he'd have to be," John said, and Boris scoffed.

"God's nothing but a landlord," Boris said, making John put his head back and cackle; Boris continued, "he's got all this property he has to pay no taxes on, people who do all his work for him, give him money. God's a moocher. And yet here we are, praising him, worshipping him. But I suppose, if the scripture is real, and his love is divine, then-"

"The scripture doesn't matter," John said, surprising Boris, who looked at him; John chewed his lip and continued, "it's just words, Boris. Vagueries. Conceptual ideas about ways to live your life, not a manual. What matters is interpretation. That's why I said, depends on your interpretation. We all approach our relationship with the lord in a different way, no one way is right and no one way is wrong. Whatever works for us works for us, and for him, so the question then becomes...is his love divine to you?"

Boris stared back ahead at the stage of the church and thought. Here he was, sitting in a partial suit, as if he was expecting to be here tonight when really it had been a whim, and now he was appropriately dressed, being asked if God's love was divine to him? Boris bit his lip and furrowed his brow.

"It isn't, no," Boris said, surprising John; Boris coughed, clearing his throat and added, "that...that isn't to say it isn't worthwhile. I think I've found some kind of peace from it. But the love that is divine to me...it doesn't come from God, it comes from other people, people who mattered while I was here. People like you, John."

John smiled, abeit weakly, and nodded.

"Lorraine, Polly, Carol, Whittle, Ellen, Chrissy...those are the people whose love mattered to me, and those are the ones I got love from and got to give love back to," Boris said, his voice hoarse, his hands shaking on his knees, "but you, especially. I sat in that nursing home and I was angry, I wanted to be better, I wanted to be remembered as more than a pile of mistakes and regrets and failed expectations. I just didn't have the drive. And then you walked in. You walked in to give the last rites to someone else, and we spoke, and I knew then that I didn't want to get better for me, but for the people around me, who deserved the best me they could have. Sure, getting better for myself was a nice bonus, but it wasn't my primary motive. Call me a people pleaser, I suppose."

John laughed.

"You're certainly on the cusp," John said.

"But that's what I wanted. More from life. I wasn't content to sit around and wait for it to end. I wanted to do something before that, because I'd barely done anything with it before then," Boris said, "so no, God's love isn't divine to me. It's just a nice bonus. Yours is what mattered."

Boris slid his shaking, frail hand across the wooden pew seat and held onto John's, making him tear up. John looked up at Boris, and their eyes met.

"Out of everyone...all of them, even my own daughter, who I wanted for so long to forgive me, acknowledge me, accept me...you were the one that mattered most. To me, when the accident happened, I figured that was it. I was a bad father. I'd crippled my own daughter and for what? A sport she didn't even want to play? When facing God on judgement day, I figured he'd take one look at me and think what a waste of effort I was to create in his image. But then you, a man of the clothe, a middleman for the lord, tells me I can be better, tells me that I can improve and that my past doesn't define me nor dictate what's left of my future...a man closer to God than any other...tells me he loves me."

John reached forward with his other hand, placing it on Boris's face. Boris shut his eyes, his face wet with tears.

"How could I not love myself if you could? God would forgive me. The accident wasn't intentional. God would forgive me, because you saw I was deserving of forgiveness," Boris said, starting to cough, "and...and how could that not inspire me to be the best?"

"I don't know what to say, Boris," John said softly, "other than, I'm touched, moreso than I've ever been. Knowing you has been the greatest gift I've been given. In a way, it almost feels as though I lost my brother, and lost Steven, so that I would be capable of helping you when we finally met."

"Don't conflate the reasons," Boris said, "everything is just a coincidence, and it is what it is."

Boris looked back towards the front of the church, John still holding his hand.

"Sister Jenn calls it The Inevitable Whatever," Boris said, "because she says she has no right to claim what comes next, so why give it a name and a face, an idea. I like that. Being on the verge of The Inevitable Whatever...however...not so much. Scares me. But, like Leanne, I'm excited to see what comes next. I didn't get it at the time, but I think I do now."

John nodded, exhaled and squeezed Boris's hand gently.

"Boris," John said, "you don't have to-"

"I love you," Boris said, surprising him before adding, "I was so scared to say that. But I do. I think I love you, John, more than I've ever loved another person, romantically. Lorraine will always have a soft spot in my heart, having given me Ellen, but...but what you and I had, even if it wasn't official, was so much more real, and it was nice. Nice to get that, before it ended. To at least get to experience it once. The thing I wanted more than anything out of life. And you gave that to me."

John was now full on crying, wiping his eyes on his shoulder, breathing fast.

"I...I love you too," John replied, his voice shaking, "and you're welcome, you gave just as much to me as I could've given to you if not more. I will never have something like this with another man."

"Sure you will," Boris said, smiling, patting John on the hand, "it just won't be like what we had. But don't close yourself off to the idea. Live, John. Live because I couldn't. Don't be me. Don't be afraid. Love someone else, love everyone else, hell, it's your job, you're a priest, remember?"

John laughed, nodding some more. Together they turned and looked at the main window in the front of the church, admiring its beauty. Boris's eyes weakened, fuzzy, and his breathing got heavier. He groaned as he shifted in his seat.

"You know what I could use," Boris said, "I could use a coffee."

"At this hour? You're a maniac," John said, laughing.

"There's a place just down the street, maybe around the block, that's open all night, makes great coffee," Boris said, "would you mind? I'll get breakfast tomorrow."

John smiled, and shook his head.

"I wouldn't mind at all," John whispered, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek before standing up and exiting the church. Boris sat there, listening to the silence. He thought about what John had said, about how he'd never have this again with someone, and he just hoped to God that John would take his advice to heart. To not be afraid to love some more. Because if anyone he'd ever met in his life was deserving of love, it was John Potter Krickett. Boris shut his eyes and leaned his head back, just resting. He could hear some cars passing by outside. A radio in the distance.

"Having a nice night?" a voice asked, and Boris roused from his quick rest, glancing to his opposite side, only to find a woman there. A young woman in her mid thirties with medium length hair in a braid over her shoulder, a blouse with a collar and cuffs, and a pencil skirt. Polly. Boris sighed.

"Didn't know you were allowed in a church, figured you'd burst into flames on sight," Boris said, making her chuckle.

"Always with the quip," Polly said, "it's a beautiful place."

"It is," Boris said, "it's a miracle, frankly. This church is a miracle, and I'm proud to have been a part of that."

"Now that's a legacy worth leaving," Polly said, grinning.

The radio outside got louder, as the song "Let's Get Away From It All" drifted into the church easily, clear and crisp as day. Polly stood up and held one hand out to Boris, as he looked up at her, cautiously confused.

"Dance with me," she said, and Boris smirked, nodded, and stood up. He took Polly by the hand and, together, started dancing. It'd been years since he'd danced, but he still remembered how. One hand in hers, the other on her hip, Boris couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Polly asked, "the people who mean the most to you?"

"It is," Boris said, nodding in agreement, "you just...you never expect it. You think it's gonna be your family or your childhood friends but often...often it's the people you meet along the way, sometimes not until much later, who turn out to be the most important. The ones you have unspoken bonds with."

"Exactly!" Polly said, grinning, "and isn't that nice? To recognize you're not alone, even at an age like that? It sure made me feel better. And that's a beautiful thing, because I think a lot of people, maybe even most people - though many of them are far to prideful to ever admit it - don't acknowledge that they don't become who they actually are until well towards the end. That's when you've known yourself the longest. That's when you know who you are. And that's when others can know too. It's like a gravitational thing, we all become pulled towards one another. I think that's what's beautiful about nursing homes."

"There's something beautiful about nursing homes? God, you really can see the upside to anything," Boris said, making her snort laugh.

"I just mean, we fill these places with people we think are too far gone, but they aren't. They're just starting," Polly said, "look at how much more you lived. Look at who you became. I'm proud to have known you."

Boris nodded, leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. They turned and continued dancing as the song came to a close and the silence once again enveloped the church. Boris, his chin resting on her shoulder as the dance ended, then saw it. Himself. Sitting on the pew, looking the way he had for years. Boris stepped back from Polly, and quickly rushed to a nearby mirror, looking at himself. Nice button down, long sleeved shirt, tucked into slacks, suspenders. Hair, full and well groomed. Stubble. He turned and looked back at Polly, who was gently scuffing the floor with her shoe like a nervous teenager.

"I didn't want you to be scared," Polly said, and Boris stammered, walking back to the pew. He seated himself on one side of his body, Polly on the other; Polly cocked her head to both sides before saying, "for what it's worth, for someone very sick at the end...you don't look too bad, champ."

"...why are you here, Polly?" Boris asked, his voice stammering, shaking.

"Why are you here, Boris?" Polly asked, leaning back and crossing her legs.

"...that wasn't scary at all," Boris mumbled and Polly laughed.

"Well, to be fair, this could all be nothing. The subconscious does strange things when the brain is dying. But at least you're somewhere beautiful, with people who cared about you," Polly said.

Boris leaned forward again, looking at his body.

"They have a term for it, you know," Polly said, "for these years, the ones at the end, they call them your golden years, not sure why, guess it sounded poetic in 1945, but...there's something nice about it too. Golden Years. You lived through the bronze, that was where you were young and shitty, and you survived through the silver, where you were getting better, growing but still kind of awful, and now here you are, top of the podium, with the gold. You did it, kid. You won. You survived life. Thing is, nobody gives you a medal. And why should they? We all end here, same as everyone else, no matter how well we did. The only ones who really acknowledge whether we became golden were ourselves and maybe the ones closest to us."

Boris leaned back in his seat and put his hands on his knees, exhaling slowly.

"I think you did it, though, and did it damn well might I add," Polly said, "sorry I didn't make it there. I had to tap out in second place. Always the first loser of the race."

Boris chuckled, nodding, Polly giggling.

"You weren't a loser, Polly. A loser doesn't play by their own rules. So what's it like?" Boris asked, "is it nice?"

"Nicer than this? Anything has to be," Polly said.

"I was supposed to have breakfast tomorrow," Boris said.

"Oh, come off it, we both know you weren't going to manage that," Polly replied.

A moment passed, and Polly stood up, straightened her skirt, and held out her hand again.

"Shall we?" she asked, and Boris waited, then stood up and took her hand. Together they walked around the aisle, and headed past the pews, towards the church doors. The doors opened and out they stepped, into the great Inevitable Whatever. A few more minutes passed, and the doors re-opened, John re-entering, two coffee cups in one hand each. He quickly approached the pew and sat down, placing Boris's by him as he put his own between his legs.

"Their coffee better be as good as you claim," John said, "because it cost too much and it took too long and they spelt my name Johm. That's not even a name, Boris. It's one thing when they misspell it in a way that makes sense, like Sally with an IE, but Johm? Frankly I think they're just bitter about their job. But, if this is what the lord wants, from now on I'll be known as Johm, so be it."

John laughed at his own joke, and then stopped laughing. He reached out, putting his hand on Boris's shoulder, shaking gently.

"Boris? You takin' a power nap in church? It's the house of God, not the bedroom of God," John said, chuckling nervously, before shaking him again, "Boris?"

John had seen death enough to know what was sitting next to him. So John Potter Krickett sat on his pew and he sipped his coffee, and he rested his head on the old mans shoulder. He'd savor this moment for as long as he could. You only get so many moments in life, after all. John lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip.

"Alright," John said, "you were right. Coffee's pretty good."