The Apology Song

Apollo Pythias. Phil Palostoya. Harold Della'Alba. Herald of the Dawn. Saul Kladakos. Sol Scion (I mean, really, even I'd figured out the Greek root of that last name. You could have done better with that one).
Sorry Dad, you know I've always been bad at anagrams and alibis. I figured it out after Horace's message, though. But since Hal was the only one who ever called me "peach," I guess figuring it out didn't require a tremendous amount of detective skills.
I'm not sure what to say. I guess "Thank you" and "I'm sorry for being such a bit...ter person" might be a good start.
I hope you know how much I appreciate that time. I never said it and I'm sorry for that, but I know I couldn't have made it without your help. You helped me get sane again when I was really lost. You nudged me toward Med School, and then called me to Vegas, and everything I have now... I can, and I should, thank you for it. I'm sorry I didn't see it before, how you've been helping me get to everywhere I'm supposed to be so that I can have everything I've wanted in my life.
My career. My friends, among them my sister and the other kids from the compound. I'm signing the paperwork to adopt one of them soon.
And then there's Gunnar...
He asked me to marry him, Dad. Kinda. I think. We're gonna talk about it again when I get my head pulled back together, and I'm not sure when we'll get to it anyway but... I just wanted to give you a heads up in case you could be there.
But I'm starting to get the idea of how busy you are, so I understand if that's not possible.
Anyways, I've realized that I wouldn't have any of it if you hadn't sat in that hospital bed and told me I was "meant for ministering."
I'm sorry I never told you then what it meant to me, just to have someone who would wait until I was ready to talk and listened when I did talk.
It made those long nights when the nightmares kept me out of bed so much more bearable. It was exactly what I needed then, and it's just what I've needed from Gunnar now.
I'd have never met him if you hadn't called me to Vegas. So thanks. For everything.

Time to Move On

"It's time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It's time to move on, it's time to get going..."
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Time to Move On

Brendan had to go check into something at UCLA, Gunnar went with him, and Jack and Camila headed for New Orleans to get the footwork started for Brigitte's rites. That pretty much left me and Nate to fend for ourselves, entertainment-wise. Karaoke! But I already babbled about that. Probably should have waited to sober up for that one. Hell, probably should have waited to sober up to get in the car. My head is still a little fuzzy.
Anyway.

Jack and Camila ran into some trouble on the way, at least that's what Jack said. He was kinda vague, now that I think about it. But they're ok, which is really what matters. I'm glad he called me, I hope I wasn't too pushy about asking if they needed more money or another car.

We're following a couple of days behind them, bringing Brigitte with us. In a fridge. Hitched to the back of Nate's car.

We made a pit stop in Vegas for Nate to turn in his weapon, and I got to see this Alli chick. She's cute. Nate gave her his hat and a kiss that would make any mortal woman's knees weak.
I got him a new hat. A fedora. Fedoras are cool. My favorite action-archaeologist wears a fedora. Oh Indie... I digress.
We got back on the road after that, all back in one car, driving in shifts. The road is long and this country is too damn big.

And after like the 80th game of "I Spy" with Gunnar where the answer was "a gun," I'm ready for this part of the trip to be over.

"I spy something gold."
"It's your gun."
"Damn."

Friends

Went karaoke-ing (is that a word? I don't know. It can be now) with Nate tonight. I smuggled the bird in a backpack, asking for a private room, because I knew that there was no way I was leaving with his hero for alcohol and music and getting away without Nevermore.

None of us were great (I humbly think that I won at quality, while Nate and the bird tied for enthusiasm), but oh my gods it was fun.
It started out as an act of kindness. I wanted to make sure Nate was ok after hearing he had to turn in his badge. It ended up doing me a lot of good too, though.

We talked a little, drank a lot, sang some amount in between.
Nevermore is a huge Van Halen fan, it turns out. He does an oddly fantastic impression of David Lee Roth. "Pan-a-MA!!" Squawk. Flap. Stumble.

The conversation was... non-linear, to say the least (blame the drinks, which were copious).
I think it started with us talking about Nate's love life, which was a surprise. That we talked about it, not that he has one. Dammit. That came out wrong.
And he made it clear that his volunteering for that wedding, back in Vegas (fucking forever ago!) was just a cover thing. And asked if my perfume attracts Scions. I'm not entirely sure what that was about. I kinda sniffed at my shirt, because I couldn't remember what I was wearing, but I think I said something brilliant like, "It's just sandalwood." And vodka, which Nevermore made me spill, trying to prove he could do the choreography from "Everybody Wants Some" (he can't). Far as I know, it takes more than vodka and sandalwood to lure up god-kids. The kind I'd want to lure, anyway. Not that I'm trying to lure one anyway, or ever was. Fuck. That came out wrong too.
So, yeah. There's a girl, back in Vegas, and he was set to marry her. Then being different complicated things. Like it does.
I think we're gonna stop on the way so he can talk to her. He asked what kind of ring says "I want you back in my life and I'm sorry," or something like that. A ring might not be the best idea. I told him not to get her a watch, those are terrible gifts for a woman. And no rings, unless he's proposing (again?), and if he is proposing not to be vague. I might have said something about Gunnar. No, I did say something about Gunnar. And I'm glad that Nevermore was hopping around on the speakers and not paying attention when I did, because Nate caught on effin' quick, and if the bird had heard that word then everyone in the house would know how badly I suck at the words "low... profile."
But we weren't talking about me, we were talking about Nate. I told him, apology first. Let that sink in, see if she can handle the stresses of Scion lovin', and ease her into the accompanying weirdness.
"Weirdness, like talking birds...
and trash frogs...
and shadows that try to eat you ...
and mischief... GODS just... leaving shit in your mailbox...
and knowing where you live...
and deserts that eat a month of your life...
and... stuff like that."

It was a good night. I get the feeling Nate's going to be a good friend.

"Bright light almost blinding, black night still there shining,
I can't stop, keep on climbing, looking for what I knew...
So anytime somebody needs you, don't let them down, although it grieves you,
Some day you'll need someone like they do, looking for what you knew.
Mmm, I'm telling you now, The greatest thing you ever can do now,
Is trade a smile with someone who's blue now, It's very easy just... "
Led Zeppelin, Friends

If I Ever Leave This World Alive....

The paperwork for Brendan Gair came today. I told the guys I was going to have my lawyer look it over quickly before I signed it, just to make sure I was getting the best possible terms for the kid. They really didn't need to come, it's not like I was going to need to intimidate the lawyer into doing anything.
It was true, it just wasn't the whole truth.
I'm more or less capable of reading and interpreting a legal document.

I'm glad I went alone, though. One less "Laurel freaks out" moment afterward for everyone to witness, but I'll get to that eventually.
The main reason I went was to have my will updated.
Previously I'd arranged for everything to go to charities; animal shelters, the hospital and an arts program for a few of the schools around here.
With this draft, I opted for something a little less ambiguously philanthropic. In the event that something goes terribly awry, I've arranged for Susan to get the house in Berkeley. I've also set up a college fund for her, whether I die or not. She's talked about getting into psychology, and she's good with people.
Gunnar will get my house in Los Angeles. I figure that will be helpful if he ever needs a base on the West Coast. I'd also leave Nevermore in his care, if I weren't pretty sure that Dad would just pass him on to Susan or use him for something else.
I'll give Brendan Gair the Impala, since when he gets old enough he'll need something to drive. My money they can all split; Gunnar, Susan, Charlotte, Gunter and Brendan. I don't know what the future holds for them. I imagine Gunnar will keep up his own work, and might occasionally need some money for a vacation. Or to cover exploding hotel rooms.
I could easily see the rest of them getting involved in the same line of work as us, and not needing to work really increases our ability to get shit done. I feel a little better, now that that's taken care of.
I think I'm ready to go to New Orleans now.

Malt Liquor Tastes Better When You've Got Problems

The dreams are getting a little worse now. I'm trying really hard not to let on how fucking scared I am, how glad I am that all of the feelings fade once I've been awake for a few minutes.
She loved him so... much.... it makes me sick to my stomach.The last dream... She was at Nate's house. Or... I was her, and I was at Nate's house. That's part of what makes me so sick, being her. She's - I'm - so goddamn dependent on this guy who just tells me I'm a useless bitch, like the abused women I've had to treat at the hospital.
They're always the ones who don't listen when you tell them to get out, take the kids and haul ass to the nearest shelter, run as fast and far as you can because that fucker's not going to change and then a week later you're too tired to even act surprised when the cops are asking you if you knew there was a history of abuse and yes, they would really appreciate your cooperation for the quintuple murder investigation.
It's really hard to feel sorry for someone so dependent on others to define her identity. Like, when she was alone and the lights were off did she even exist? And if she did, what was the fucking point?

Anyway.

She'd - I'd - seen Nate punch in his security code, like... using his eyes so it wasn't hard breaking in. I look at the pictures on the wall and think that he's kinda cute. Maybe if things don't work out with Kane (because they're obviously going so fucking splendidly) I'll give Nate a shot.
Yeah. If things don't work with the guy who sent me here to kill someone, I'll try dating the guy I was sent here to kill. Seriously? What the fuck, Marie.
I don't want to kill him, of course, because I'm just such a great fluffy pacifist but it's completely ok to break into his house and steal some hair from his hairbrush in his bathroom and sew it up into a voodoo doll. I lock up and go back to my room, and call the great and fabulous Kane.
He asks if I killed Pritchert. I have time to say no, but before I get any further, again, I'm a useless bitch and he doesn't know why he bothers and they're coming to get me and he hangs up. Yeah, you're fucking welcome, you shithead.
This part of the dream, where Marie is rationalizing everything, makes my stomach flipflop and squirm and try to crawl out of my throat. Well, the whole fucked up shebang does, but this part especially. Because the me that's Marie in the dream is sure that once I show him how useful I can be, surely he will fall head over heels for me. Or maybe Kane will get hurt tonight and he'll realize how much he needs me. And the me that is Laurel knows Kane's type, and that nothing will ever be good enough because he's really only in love with one thing: power. The me that's Laurel wants to hook this psychopath up in a long term and intense relationship with some serious therapy.
She - I... I was bluffing when I pulled out the doll and turned Nate's gun on his head. Marie didn't really want to kill anyone. Not very reassuring, actually. I never want to get shot, and yet that keeps happening. I didn't start the encounter wanting to kill her, either.
She bluffed, and I called. Back in the army, they taught us that you don't raise a weapon and point it at someone unless you absolutely mean to fire. Doesn't mean you have to want to. And now...
Fuck it. It sounds like I'm trying to rationalize it too, and I'm not. In the strictest, black and white terms, I shouldn't have killed her. But in the strictest black and white terms, nobody should kill anybody and nobody will come out of this war clean.
The more I learn about her, the less sorry I feel. I pity her, sure. She was callow and pliable - characteristics which identify her ultimately as a liability. If Kane weren't using her, it would be someone else and there are no guarantees that it wouldn't be one of the titanspawn.
I don't know if that's who Kane was working with, or for... that's not clear yet. But he wanted to bring down the Amatsukami, that's why Nate was targeted. Well, I guess since the fucker's still alive it's more accurate to say that Kane wants to bring down the Amatsukami. Nate is targeted.

Jack suggested maybe using a dreamcatcher, I don't know if that would work, or how, but... I guess it feels like cheating. Mary is determined to punish me for this and I'm scared that if I try to circumvent the consequences that she'll send something worse. She may anyway, if I drag my feet on repayment.

I need a serious drink.

"So I say 'Hello' to wasted hours
And I say 'Bottoms up' to better days"
Less Than Jake, Malt Liquor Tastes Better When You've Got Problems

The Major Lift

We took Ty home, because that is what I do with screaming racists I find in the exploding, time warping desert. That is just how I roll.
We realized then, as we all got out phones to make phone calls and check texts and signals that WE HAD BEEN GONE A MONTH.
Nevermore's had standing orders to just head back home if I'm gone for more than three days, so of course I was worried that everyone was going to think we blew up with the hotel.
The kids were really glad to see us, which was a relief. I've been spending time with them when I can, mostly around their bedtime, and I'm really proud of how well they've adjusted. They've been doing great. Susan got them all in school, and they're all doing phenomenally. Gunter's been helping out with Brendan, and even sweet little Azeeza has made some ghost friends. Oh and Brendan used some illusory powers to make a fake group of us to fill in while the real uses were in the desert. He was able to convince the agency that his home life here is stable and normal. I hope that's true. I should get the papers to adopt him in a few days.
I'm adopting a kid.
I hope I don't screw him up. I hope the mere proximity of me doesn't screw any of them up.

Ty got settled, more or less. It took two days for him to give up on trying to usurp my claim to the scream throne. Guess Sway is nasty shit to come down from. Maybe Sway was the pediatric version of this crap, I don't think it was supposed to work on us older kids. Like Gunnar said once, "fucking drugs."
While Ty was still nursing his hangover, someone blew the hotel to kingdom come. Guess Dad got my message. Then there was a knock on my door. I ran to get it, and there was Horace. I wasn't sure whether to be glad or relieved or suspicious or what. Too fucking tired. He looked tired too. Smelled like he was going to make my shower cry uncle.
I told him I was sorry for leaving him in the desert. I just didn't think we could have taken the creepy angels, and Pan, and protected Horace and Ty, and still have the energy to walk back. That is probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
Anyway, I guess it was a good thing that I rattled off a prayer to Dad. Otherwise Horace might still be stuck. Dad told Horus and that is how the hotel exploded. Because of Horus, not because they were talking.
Anyway, Horace had a message for me and Susan from Dad. He was proud of us. Then a message just for me. "Keep up the good work, peach." I'm still working on processing that one. It's all good, but... Well, it's another episode of "Foot, Meet Mouth" starring yours truly. More on that later, I guess.

That night I tried sleeping again. I can't shake off this tiredness, but it's the same shit on a different day.

And after night three of waking up screaming, babbling and ultimately not able to do anything to shake it off besides curl up against Gunnar or get up and make a drink, I think I'm going to give up sleep for Lent.

Still, not all bad. Horace made it out, we found Ty, we got Brendan out of abusive foster-custody, and that's really the least of the good news.
Hallelujah.

Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert

We turned our backs and walked out of the... whatever it was. As we were walking, Gunnar found out from Pondscum that Pan was building an army. Had been for seventy years. An army, more or less on Earth. Of Titanspawn.

Those words were enough for me. The chills ran up my spine and I dropped to my knees in the sand, spouting off a prayer to my dad. "Radiant Apollo, yadda yadda... I'm sorry, I know I said I want to do my own thing and not run to Daddy when shit gets rough but this is way... out... of my league. Dad, it's Pan. He's using Horace to muster an army of Titanspawn out here in the desert and we can't break him out or shut Pan down. I know you're busy, but this was the only thing I could think of..." I ran out of shit to say, which I guess is good. I know now Dad's busy so I try to keep that stuff brief.
I had to jog a little to catch up with the guys, and we walked... and walked... and walked... and made it out of the desert. Back into the hotel, which was empty... and burned... and half exploded.
I am no longer packing clothes for any excursion. Every time I do, it just explodes or falls into some viking underworld. I had some dresses in there that I really liked, too. And I lost all of my makeup and contacts back in Vegas.

The Minor Fall

"And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the lord of song
With nothing on my tongue
But 'Hallelujah...'"

Alright, time to process this shit. I guess it's a good thing Hal... Dad... convinced me to keep this thing around.
I'm still not sure how to categorize what happened at the hotel.
I was right about Pan, which is... not nearly as satisfying as it should have been.
I was looking over Don's email on the way back from L.A. with Gunnar (and Camila, following behind us in Nate's car), and it clicked. At least I knew what to expect, right?
No. Not right. Not that it really mattered, anyway. We walked away, which is always good. I went in thinking that since I had an idea who Tim's dad was, I had an idea how to protect Gunnar. Except, when we finally got to talk to him, Pan just kinda said thanks, but I'll get to that. Guess I can mark that off the list of shit to worry about.
And I met the first collector, like I wrote earlier. Or maybe I didn't. That doesn't matter too much, either. Some woman in camo pants called my name, froze me, said something about seeing how I like it and she knows what I did last summer or some such.
I was shaken, yeah. Mostly because Jack and Brendan were right fucking there in the lobby with me and I was just hoping they were outside of the blast radius when the bomb dropped.
But it didn't. She booked my room, froze me with her eyes, like I did to Marie, and she was gone.
Nate and Gunnar busted in, guns drawn gods love 'em. Dinner time was coming quickly, and even though I'd lost my appetite it seemed like a good idea to act normal.
I just pushed some stuff around on my plate. I was willing to pick up the meal since I was already paying for the rooms, but Nate ended up doing it.
Just as well, because I'm expecting there to be a massive charge from where we were in the desert for like... a month. I wonder if they stopped charging after the hotel blew up.

Anyway, turns out Tim's dad owned the hotel and wanted to thank us by partially comping our meal (if he were really grateful it would have been free). Or maybe he just thought we were all wicked cool, and wanted to feed us. More likely he was trying to drug us but still make us pay for part of it. Gunnar gave the waiter his card so that Tim's dad could give him a call.
Apparently the waiter thought that "call" meant "call girl," but I'll get to that. The guys decided to investigate the place after they finished eating. I said I just wanted to go up to the room. Gunnar came with me, not wanting to leave me alone, which I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate. I know it's gotta be boring skipping all of the fun stuff like stealth recon and breaking and entering in order to make sure I'm not getting skinned. I never thought of myself as being such high maintenance.
He turned the rooms over, looking for bugs or bombs or... I don't know what. Suspicious stuff.
The guys came back later, and we just kinda sat around. The guys talked about what they found, and Brendan can fly.
Yeah. I should have paid more attention to what they were talking about, but instead I got lost in my own head a little bit until there was a knock on the door.
This was the call girl I mentioned earlier. Looked almost like she'd just walked off of a porno shoot.
Maybe I'm exaggerating.
Maybe.

She said she was going to take us to see Tim's dad. Tim's dad, for the record, is also on my shit list now. It's a rapidly expanding list.
Those creepy, skin crawly looks he kept giving me, like he was undressing me in his head... You know, he probably was. Yeurgh. Asshole.
And then Gunnar mentioned pretty much right off the bat that he'd killed Tim. I saw Brendan tense up, and I myself stepped closer to Gunnar, ready to pretty much get torn apart. And then Pan pretty much just said "TYVM, LOL."
After some more unimpressive banter (on Pan's part) Gunnar called him out on being Pan, and not the devil. Surprise? Pan applauded Gunnar's perceptiveness, and Gunnar gave me the credit because he's just that kind of guy. I almost wish he hadn't though, because Pan was almost licking his lips when he looked at me now.
Since I figured it out on the car ride, everything kept coming back to say it had to be Pan. Hates Apollo? Yep. Likes music and chaos? Yep. Broke up the Beatles? Yeah. Fucker.
He said we got one of the guys for killing Tim and the Father, and was willing to gamble for the other, in the form of a musical contest. I wanted to ask how that worked last time, but... I thought better of it.

We did really well. I asked for an instrument, and he handed me the violin. The 300-year-old, last one that was made, Stradivarius violin.
I alternated playing and singing. Brendan backed me up on an Irish fiddle, and the rest of the guys did backup for us. I hit most of my notes, and I can now say that I have manhandled a Stradivarius.
Sexy. Very, very sexy.
The rest of the guys did really well, too. I didn't know Brendan could play so well.
Then the devil went down to Georgia...
Wait, no, different story.

Anyway, Pan said it was a tie. I was tempted to ask him to play it upside down... But I thought better of it.

So we got to leave with Ty. Ty was kind of an asshole. We entered his room and the hookers he was with collected their clothes and when the words, "Fuck you, whitey" came out of his mouth I wanted very much to just punch him and be done with it. I settled for "bite me." Scathing, I know.
Then we walked through the desert... for days... and days... and then we walked some more, and Gunnar jumped onto a basilisk. Not really, but near enough.
That man and snakes, I swear. I'm dating Indiana Jones.

At least the basilisk didn't explode, that seems to still be limited to buildings. I think he said he's going to turn it into some boots. I like a guy who's crafty.
He and Jack were the only ones to get hurt in the fight, but I couldn't do anything for Gunnar's wounds. I had heard him scream after he jumped ahead of us, and I ran after him, several steps behind. I probably shouldn't have, but I know what pain sounds like and... my feet just started moving. I remember clutching at the lyre charm on my throat and praying hard that he wouldn't get poisoned or crushed or whatever else this scaly fucker had in mind.
Or at least that he would survive it long enough for me to close up the wounds.
Love makes you do stupid things.
Like run towards a basilisk with your eyes open.

Anyways. We found Horace after that, but we couldn't do anything for him. We were all so tired, and there were titanspawn surrounding him, and lots of satyrs, and it looked like they'd been feeding Horace something...
Plus, Nate, Jack and Brendan all went crazy over that creepy song at first.
I remember looking at Gunnar and shrugging, "Eh. I've heard better." Nate snapped out of it first, and they started dragging at Jack while I contemplated how to snap Brendan out of it.
Gunnar vetoed my only idea, so we just waited and I guess Brendan shook himself out.
I'm a little glad that Brendan seemed to have been too out of it to notice what that suggestion was, he's only recently started making eye contact with me again.

So we left Horace there. Broke my heart to do it.

Hold Me, Until It Sleeps

I guess it's started. I don't feel right. My head's all fuzzy. I don't really feel like doing anything besides staying with the kids. Homework, bedtime, track meets and school plays. That's what I want right now. That's all I want. Time with the kids, and Gunnar.
This cross-country bullshit feels like it can wait, even if it's being done in a ploy to save my own ass and keep my promises.
And I've been waking up screaming. The first time I was sleeping in the car, had to ask Gunnar to stop while I got sick. It hasn't stopped, either. Every time I sleep. The same nightmare, over and over.
But it's not all bad. Gunnar's been there when I wake up, and gives me a pretty good reason to keep trying to smile.
It just takes me some time to stop wailing and sobbing, until whatever's fucking with my head quiets down.

"Where do I take this pain of mine?
I run, but it stays right my side
So tear me open, pour me out
There's things inside that scream and shout
And the pain still hates me
So hold me, until it sleeps..."
Metallica, Until It Sleeps

praise be to effin' apollo

they came back today.
had a talk with our girl about scarin' us all like that.
pretty much went like
'what you didn't think to check on me before you wandered all moses like for forty days/?
you better have found jesus out there.'

she said 'shut up.'
so i said 'know what there is to do in the desert by yourselfZ?>
not a damn thing.'
so she said 'shut up, bird.'
she's a little rude.

just doesn't get that we worry sometimes.

still waiting.
boss hasn't said a peep.

two options, either he ain't worried or he don't know.
ignorance and bliss, right.

they're probably all fine, sipping on mai tais and such.
plus they take care of each other, from what i've seen. and i've seen them get each other through some tough shit.
irish and the bruiser, and the deputy, and the viking. 'specially the viking.
he's good for our girl, i think.
doesn't flinch when ya threaten to break his legs.
good quality to have.

he'll bring her back.
i hope.

still no word from those crazy kids.

it's been a little dull, without the boss' kid yelling about something i did wrong.

crap.
i miss her.

'three days, bird. don't wait for me more than that. go home and i'll find you. unless i'm dead. then dad will probably come get you.'
the boss' girl said that a while back.

worked for me. the desert sucks.
not much to eat.
no shade.
and once the fab five went into the hotel no company either.

day one;
watched from a palm while our girl went in with irish and knuckles. deputy and viking were checking a white van. the kind from the order place. looks like a rape wagon.
they took off running, guns drawn.
laurel, probably. she is trouble, walking.

saw irish later that night.
flying.
dude can fly.
little weird.
asked if i'd seen anything interesting.
not a damn thing.

day two;
more of nothing.
moving vans.
weird.
no word from the crew.

day three;
waited til night.
no laurel. no deputy. no gunnar. none of the others.
fuck this.
went home.

think i freaked the kids out a little, flying in solo like that.
norse jr was all like, yeah they're dead.
told him to piss off, our girl's too stubborn to just up and die like that.
and if she did she'd just climb her ass right back outta hell just to come back and annoy us some more.
and bring the others back with her, just to have someone to talk to on the walk back.

think that might have actually calmed the little sister down some. she's impressive, managing all of the rugrats. i tried to help out.
not much else to do, since i'm waiting.
i don't get homework.
angles and crap, what use do these kids have for math.
i'd watch the ghost kid... but i can't see the ghost kid.

guess i'll spend a lot of time with the little sister.

Enterlude

Shit, Dad. I forgot probably the most important thing. Susan is safe. She's at my place, with the other kids who have nowhere else to go. I'm not sure how I feel about leaving them here, with all the b.s. we've called down on our heads. Some of them have weapons, which I hope they know how to use if they have to, and the others who don't... Well, I have nothing to give them and I don't have any time to teach them anything useful. I'm just trying to make sure they have all the basics; transportation and food and something resembling a normal and steady life. I guess I wanted you to know where they were, in case someone who deserves to know asks. Brendan, Charlotte, Gunter, Susan and... You know what? She counts. Azeeza too.

I wasn't expecting to find so many kids. Turns out this shit is global, which may require our attention. Later. We're working on bringing Horace and Ty home, first. I'm pretty sure the next destination is that place Don told me about. I get major creeps thinking about it. He told me to stay away, if I could. Something about how being your kid is especially bad for us. I'm willing to test that theory. He's fine, by the way.

I need some sleep.

And Dad? About the other night... Love you too.

My List

Ok, Dad. I'm getting over it. I'm trying to, anyway. Sorry about earlier, I just... I have your temper, I guess. And I know there's bigger shit going on than what's happened in my tiny little life. Bigger shit than what's going to happen, even. Yeah, I guess I finally hit that point where I realize that the world is bigger than me. I'm worried about Azeeza, Dad. I don't know how... Well, I don't have much experience taking care of kids, period. They've always been part of my plan, and they still are, but I'm not there yet so they still just look a little bit like small drunks to me. Taking care of a dead kid? Even more beyond me. I'm going to do my best. That's what Mom raised me to do, and I'm pretty sure it's a path you would endorse as well. I just have no idea what she needs. Brigitte says that when she moves on, Azeeza will be alone and I opened my mouth as usual, promising I'd take care of Azeeza. I guess her people closed their pearly gates a long time ago and Azeeza has nowhere to go. I don't know what to tell her. I've only been able to talk to her because of some glasses Brigitte let me borrow, and I don't know what I'm going to do when I get her body back to New Orleans and probably have to give the glasses back to the Baron. I doubt he'd let me hang on to them, even if I didn't need a pretty huge favor from him. Sorry, Dad, I'm rambling. I did want to say that I was sorry for being such a brat. I asked for stuff that I don't deserve yet, I whined when I didn't get it, I didn't give you a chance to talk and then I complained about not hearing from you for a while... It wasn't fair to you. I'm going to really try to be fair, from now on. I rambled a lot too, when I said I was going to follow my own path. I'm not taking that back, but I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn't mad at you. It's not like I'm angry at who you are, or like I hate your name. I just would rather be making my own, you know? So... I'm just checking in. I don't want to only talk to you when I feel like I need something.
Um, and... well... I don't need anything, but I wouldn't mind some advice, if you have a minute and the chance to get a word or 80 to me. If you can possibly believe it, you were right and I have indeed gotten myself into some trouble, but I'm not the only person doing so. It's Gunnar that I'm worried about, Dad. He basically pulled a "me" and might be in the same magnitude of trouble I am. After you talked to me (and I should have said thanks then, but I forgot my manners and I'm saying it now), and Mary talked to me... I saw something else. Something with horns, on a throne of skulls, and there was the smell of sulfur and it held the bodies of two people Gunnar had killed and it was squeezing something. There was light, and some music and I don't understand what it means, yet. I described it all to Gunnar when we had some time to talk. I kinda tell him everything, now. Hm. His first question was whether I thought those deaths were going to haunt us. I thought maybe but I said no, because he and I seem to be developing a waiting list of things to worry about right now, including something I thought we'd already taken care of. I guess I was just wondering if you could give me some hints, or ideas... or something... I just want to keep him safe, Dad, like he does for me. Maybe get an idea what we're up against, before we start moving on to the next thing on the list.

It's Been A Hard Day's Night...

I should be sleeping like a log.

Gunnar had the good sense to go get some shuteye, and if I were smarter I would join him and sleep off the couple of shots I had. The second I volunteered my house, I had a glorious vision of spending a night back in my own extremely comfortable bed and soft pillows and blankets after a month away from home. I can't remember the last time I actually slept a whole night.

It won't be tonight, there's been too much to do.

All in all, I would call today a "win." We got most of the kids out of the compound and back here. Carmen bailed halfway through the trip. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. The way she yelled at Susan, the way she kept hitting on Nate... Ugh. She was a troublemaker. She might still be, if we run into her again. The only other one we lost was... Azeeza. She was dead before we got there, taken and... And I don't know what. It's distressing and frustrating, but I only have conjectures at this point. I promised her I would find out what happened, and that I would make it right. Fuck.

I have no idea how. Well, not yet. But I will, gods damn it. All things in their own time, I suppose.

At least I'm certain I'll have Gunnar's help in... well, everything, I guess. Anything that wants a chance at me has to go through him, he said when we decided we were dating. Tonight he said he's sticking to it, even after I told him about what Mary wanted me to do. After studying the relics we found some time and some space to talk, privately. It was hard telling him about what I'd seen, heard and said. He needed to know. I promised myself from the beginning never to keep anything from him, even though I felt the shakes coming and the tears welling up and that shrapnel feeling shredding my throat and my stomach.

He just hugged me, and said he was glad that I made the choice I had, and... and some of the weight just went away, like he was shouldering it for me. I think I was afraid he wasn't going to feel that way, but he did. That maybe he'd agree when I called it the easy way, but he didn't. That he wouldn't say he'd murder anyone who came to collect, like I'm pretty sure I would. But he did, and I was foolish for harboring those fears for even an instant. So when the time comes he's coming with me, because we'd both rather make the trip to Hell than give Erzulie a "replacement" of our own.
He's sticking with me, and I'm sticking with him. He made the point that Tim might have been a Scion, too. So Gunnar might be in just as much trouble as I am.
But he's not in it alone, either. Anything that wants to get at him has to go through through me, I promised him. I tried to make light of it, the way he offered to vacation with me in Hell, but I'm fairly certain he knew how deathly serious I was. Otherwise it's hard to believe he would have said that was reassuring.
Then I'm pretty sure he drank my bar as we spent a while just talking about nothing, everything... anything. It was very pleasant feeling the alcohol soaking my cells and making some of those worries take a nap for a while.
Gunnar apologized for drinking so much, which I told him not to worry about. There's always more booze and I'm such a light drinker that it was just nice to have that room get used. Then he decided to take a nap and I pointed the way to my room, if he wanted a bed to sleep in. I stayed up.
I had wanted to try hanging out with Susan in the music room, but she was already asleep. It's probably better that we didn't start playing loud music, because everyone else was asleep too. Good thing I'd already talked to Gunter earlier that night.
Well, by talked I mean I lost my patience with his attitude. Maybe I shouldn't have told him that if I really didn't care, I'd have left his ass back at Denny's. It was true though. I'm worried about the kid, and I want what's best for him. Just seems like I have to prove it.
My plan after that was to check out those vials we found at the compound, but I remembered that I had abandoned my plans to convert one of the guest rooms into a lab when I left last month. I hadn't even gotten very far, mostly just the "this is the crap I'm going to need to have a convincing medical lab" stage. Other people call it "planning." Anyway, it will have to wait until the morning.
Finally I settled for talking to Brigitte, and I found her in the backyard staring at the Bay. I tried to get some idea what to expect about paying my debt to Mary, and I didn't really find any surprises: Woe to the person (me, of course and by proxy, Gunnar) on Erzulie's bad side. Brigitte's dad doesn't give favors for nothing. And Brigitte laughed when she said Guinnee is humid, whatever that means. Something about a drowned road, and me being too lily to actually go there.
Still, I think I should pick up some really good rum for the Baron.
And tell Gunnar it's not for drinking.

So tomorrow I need to stop by the hospital and run some tests on the vials we found, as well as calling in some favors to get ahold of some formaldehyde. I might think about having a second, heavy-duty refrigerator installed in the garage or something, as well.
I think we've basically figured out what to do with the kids. Jack offered to take the twins up to Spokane. They have a mom who, aside from being irritated that they break stuff all the time, loves them. So we can send them home. Amanda has family who wants her back, too. Gunnar, Camila and I are going to handle that one. Susan's parents are dead, so I told her that since we're family she can stay at my house. Charlotte, Gunter and Brendan Gair are going to stay too, because Charlotte's family is overseas, Gunter has nowhere else to go and Gair's foster parents were abusing him.
So I guess I'm running an orphanage. Good thing I lost my mom to cancer, and not crime, otherwise there'd be a danger of me becoming Batman. Anyway, Gunnar's got the caped-crusader covered.
After dropping off Amanda, Gunnar and I are going to L.A. with Camila to retrieve mine and Nate's cars, a package for Gunnar, and Brigitte's body.
Nate is going to stay at my house and keep an eye on Susan, Gunter and Charlotte while O'Shea looks into assuming guardianship of Gair. I'll give Susan some money and every number she can use to get ahold of me and tell her I want at least one update a day.
Nate's been hitting on her. I might have to take his kneecaps.

Communication Breakdown

Ok, calm down, Laurel. Either you're so pretty he doesn't mind how incredibly awkward you are, or he is being completely honest when he says he loves you. You know, either one's alright by me.
When everyone else went in to get the table and food, Gunnar asked me to hang back and talk for a second. I wasn't sure what to expect, so I started off by explaining to him that I didn't mean to put him on the spot like that, I just managed to forget about everybody else. When we're not in the midst of a shootout, he kinda does that to me.
"That's not something I usually say," I explained, which was true. I think the last time I said those words was almost a decade ago, the last time I talked to my mom and she was really there to hear me. I never even said it to Hal, who deserved it after putting up with me for two and a half years. "But after that explosion -- which sent me running to find you -- I realized it was true and even if it wasn't reciprocal or you were one of those guys who takes a while to be sure I wanted to make sure you knew that I was sure."
Yeah, that thing where I get nervous and ramble and my sentences just get longer until finally the creeping realization that I should just shut the hell up finally catches up with the speed of my mouth? Always fucking happens when I'm talking to him. When I'm in the hospital or just dealing with the normal guys who stare when I walk by, I'm all cool and finesse. But this guy I met in Vegas gives me a goofy grin, and then I'm tripping over my own tongue. I remembered to breathe, and moved on to the actual point.
"If you do actually feel like you need to go back to Chicago, then... just lemme know if you want some company. I'm not sure when I'd make it out there, but I've always wanted to see the city. Or, um, if you just want space... then that's fine too. I can just work on things out here for a while... I mean, I need to figure out what to do with all of these kids..." And I went through the list of all the shit that would keep me away if he left, until finally he shut me up.
"It's not a big deal, about saying, 'I love you,'" he started. "I'm cool with it, and I love you too." And I'm a little glad that I had so much on my mind, and that it took a second for that bit to sink in, because I probably would have just embarrassed myself again. Because I had so much on my mind, my ears kept functioning and I heard the part that was really important: "I want to help you -- and I refuse to ignore these kids." It was good to know that our priorities line up pretty much the same when it comes to catching these sick bastards. "Inexcusable" I think was the word he used. He said he's going to look into the ghost thing when he's got time, but mostly he's creeped out.
I told him I was too, a little. Since we were being honest. "This isn't like you," I admitted. Not like what I knew of him, anyway. "I've got this image of you in my head. You... you're Superhero-Gunnar," I told him, grinning kinda proudly. "You barrel in where angels fear to tread, and you shake off explosions like pillowfights." I got a grin out of him too, at that. It was more like normal, and that was a relief. He said he could get used to being called that and I couldn't help but return that smile. I told him I was going to tap into Sibyl later, then I mentioned offhandedly and without thinking that I'd think about adopting some of these kids, if I weren't about to go cross country. I'm still thinking about it, but I'm a little scared what might happen in the interim. Gair seems to have awful luck with foster homes, and I don't know if Susan has any family. Any family besides me, that is. I'd be glad to take her in, and I ... I'm getting away from the point. I told Gunnar that if there was any way I could help him shake off the funk, all he had to do was ask. If I'd thought of something already, he wouldn't have to ask.
But he had thought of something, that maybe that guy... Tim? put some sort of curse on him or something. He had an idea that maybe getting the rifle out of his possession would help. So he said he wanted me to take it, and some stuff about if someone else would be better they could take it that I didn't really hear. I put my hand on my throat like in those stupid jewelry commercials and romantic comedies, and put on my best fake emotional voice and told him, "You had me at 'take the rifle.'" So now I have a sniper rifle, and a boyfriend who, I know, loves me. Rock on.

Heart Cooks Brain

"It's a bad thought
On the way to god don't know
My brain's the burger and my heart's the coal
I'm trying to get my head clear
I push things out through my mouth I get refilled through my ears
I'm on my way to god don't know or even care
My brain's the weak heart and my heart's the long stairs..."
Modest Mouse, Heart Cooks Brain

I got back in the van, and I let the silence just... sit for a while. I was really glad to see Bridgitte talking to Azeeza, but just watching them... It's like I failed them both, and it feels like there's a big weight on my heart.
Then, when Gunnar said he was going to take some time off from everything, I found myself suddenly lacking the power to just keep my mouth shut. I'm pretty sure I grimaced, but only partly because of what he'd said.
"Like," I hesitated, because I wasn't sure I really wanted the answer. "Time off from everything? Time off from me? Did I ... do something?" Yeah. The first thing I did was ask if he was breaking up with me because of something I did. I've known the guy about a month, and already I've got abandonment issues. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I think the "me" that understands privacy, boundaries and common fucking sense was just yelling that I should shut up before I embarrassed us both. So smooth, Laurel.
He, thankfully, exclaimed (yes, with a !) that it wasn't me. He just thought maybe he needed some sleep. So I, trying to be helpful, mentioned the fact that there are several perfectly functional beds at my house - to which we were heading. And not even in the sleazy way.
He mentioned that he's been tired, kinda like this before. After Vegas, but that was a solid month of being thrown into the unknown. New people, new tasks, some of us meeting our parents for the first time, and fighting the roller-snake... It made sense that that might wear a person out. But, he pointed out, tonight was just like his regular job - just a few more targets and a few people helping. It shouldn't have worn him out.
It was almost painful to watch, like the fight had just gone out of him. I'm used to feeling like he's about to move a mountain, like there's this energy rolling off of him, so strong it's even hard for me to keep still. But this? This was... depressing. Scary. A little sad.
Then I tried to tell him I understood if he needed a break that badly, but it came out kinda wrong like it usually does when I open my mouth around him. I meant to say, "I really care about you so I understand if you need some time, even though just being around you makes me feel safer and because of my own obligations I don't think I can take a break with you like I'd want... provided you want me around." Instead it pretty much came out, "I love you, don't leave me." I have so much finesse. And, like I said earlier, the worst fucking timing.
So then, with a little blinking because I probably surprised him just blurting it out like that, he made it clear that he wasn't taking a break from me. Something was just wearing him out, that he didn't think it was actually him since it was right after he shot that guy - who was apparently named Tim. I surprisingly did not give a single solitary fuck what his name was.
Gunnar shifted a little in the driver's seat, and tried to give me that grin of his, that devil may care look that makes my heart skip a beat... But it didn't look right, which really was a hell of a lot more unnerving than the following realization. Because of my stupid girl brain chemistry and overabundance of estrogen and underabundance of basic reasoning faculties (and I could probably blame the adrenaline from the mission we'd just pulled off, too), I picked up on what he didn't say. Shit. How many days does it take for Laurel to mess up a really, fantastically, amazingly good thing? Um, about five, apparently.
I started stuttering in my own eloquently awkward way. "I didn't mean... I didn't want... Um, I just wanted you to know." And that was true. I wanted to tell him before we headed into the compound because I'm a little bit scared that he'll never know how grateful I am about how strong he makes me feel, like I can accomplish any damn thing I want. I'm also a little bit scared that one of us might not walk out of the next building we walk into. So, brilliantly, I just offered to drive if he was tired.
Someday I'll be more perceptive, and might avoid these types of conversations. But not today, nope. Which is why he said, "Well, it's not like I... I just..." and he looked in the rearview mirror, and that was when I remembered that we were on a long trip in a van full of mostly strangers. And here I was, laying my heart out for a live studio audience. Can you hear the sound of my face hitting my palms? Shit. "It's not like I, uh, disagree," Gunnar continued. "I just... yeah." Yeah. Oh, Awkward and Silence? I'm so glad you guys are getting along. Maybe I should book you a room. You fucking bastards.
Trying to salvage the conversation, I switched topics.
To a dead kid, because I'm that smooth. My biography will be narrated and performed by Michael Cera, and together we shall rule this world with an awkward fist.
I told Gunnar I'd found the missing kid, when I asked him to stop. I think I started whispering because I have no idea how well ghosts can hear. Gunnar said something about a weird existence, while I agonized over how young the girl was. "Gods, Gunnar," I said. "She's just a kid. Well... She was." And then, not because that switch that says 'stop talking, you're just making it worse' came on, but because my eyes got blurry and throat started burning, I just let the silence fall.
Thank the gods Jack started talking about food.

Uprising

There's a little brain-filter that some people have which I seem to have not only disabled, but tossed out the window of an overpass on the PCH going about 180mph. Gunnar started acting weird so of course, the first... well, second thing I do is blurt out that I love him in a van full of mostly strangers during a three hour drive.
Foot and mouth, this is awkward and silence. I have a feeling you'll see a lot of each other. Yeah. I don't wanna talk about that now.
The encounter at the compound was... a mixed bag. I made sure to up Brendan's defenses this time, no repeats of that encounter at the hotel. I squeezed him on the shoulder, and after some other small talk I just said, "Because of last time." He didn't really look at me though, which was a little peculiar, I guess.
I did the same trick for Gunnar, thinking of the tendency seemingly innocuous objects have of exploding around him. I put my hand more on his neck and said, "Because I know you." And I wanted to say more, to tell him how I feel about him, but I decided this wasn't the right time. I am obviously a master of such judgment calls.
At first, my role involved a lot of waiting. I just hung back with Jack, Brendan and Nevermore. Gunnar and Nate went in first. "The plan" changed a few times, but I'm pretty sure every iteration involved superhero-Gunnar shooting people in the face. I'm not sure exactly how things went down while we waited, but we eventually got a text asking for a distraction. Jack suggested being a drunk wanderer and I thought about losing some clothing but ultimately decided fully armed and guns blazing was the best bet for an entry. Jack drove one van up to the gate of the compound and smacked a guy with the door. I was at the wheel of the other, and as soon as I saw him open his door I shut off the engine and was drawing Sibyl. Brendan was ready in the passenger's seat. I think we decided the signal was a bullet from Gunnar's sniper rifle. That's when I started shooting, anyways. I dropped the guy on my side, Nevermore went and helped Brendan out and then we phalanxed up with Jack. He stood behind what used to be the gate to the compound. It worked, for like a minute. I guess they figured someone was behind that gate, and shot it all to Hell. I don't really remember how everything went from there. Adrenaline probably messed with my memory; I was pretty much acting on reflexes. Guys came out of the buildings, we shot them. I remember Brendan taking a hit, which would have been so much worse if I hadn't taken the time to talk to him, and then he hopped up on the roof, I guess with Gunnar. Nate, Jack and I met up inside the building, in the cafeteria. One of the kids, who has this really cute (and big) dog was helping us, apparently. I'll just go with it. We were starting to talk about how to get the kids out when more armed jackasses started pouring in. Jack started knocking shit over, and that seemed like a good idea. It took a minute or two, especially since the assholes poured in from two different directions, but we dropped them all.
Then there was an explosion.
Dammit, Gunnar. I took off running, and I shouldn't have because Jack actually got hit with a couple of bullets, but it turns out Nate is a decent surgeon. Gunnar was walking away from (what used to be) the adjacent building, nonchalantly picking shrapnel out of his face, Brendan following behind and looking a bit... upset.
We rejoined the guys (and girl?) and the kids, eventually found some birthrights and weapons and other items of import. One item was a pair of glasses, which little Brenden Gair said I should wear to talk to a lady who'd been trying to get my attention for a while. And next to me stood Bridgitte Delacroix herself, apparently frustrated because none of us are Bruce Willis. She told me I could hang on to the glasses until we got her body back to New Orleans (well, she asked if we'd do that part). Then it was up to her dad whether the loan would continue.
Nate and Gunnar went to go get the vans, and we started escorting the kids down the road. We take like, two steps when one of the kids, a boy, tripped another kid, a girl. So, apparently like you do when you're a pre-teen, she fucking wheels around and stabs him with a goddamn trident. WTF.
I text Gunnar, "Kids fighting, get back here." The kids had no idea what was up, and they acted like amnesiacs. We adult types figured supernatural influence, but Gunnar said he'd searched the whole compound and there was no one left. Logic said they'd be somewhere off the compound, so I volunteered Nevermore for some recon. He's been surprisingly un-mouthy lately. He found a guy, then Nate, Gunnar and the new girl (Camila?) went to check on it. I heard a gunshot, then a bit after Nate and Camila came back. Gunnar trudged behind them, which was weird.
Then he said, "Yeah I just shot a guy. He told me to drop my gun and I didn't want to. I wanted to shoot him, so I did." Then... then he said he was thinking of wrapping things up here and going back to Chicago.
I think everyone could hear the look I gave him.

Before we were even able to get all the way off the dirt road, I saw a little girl, just standing there. Nobody else saw her, but I asked Gunnar to stop, and I got out to talk to her. I asked what she was doing there, and she told me she was taken from her room and didn't want to go back. I immediately thought of the one missing kid Nate had mentioned, and the lump started in my throat. I asked her name, which was Azeeza. "I... I don't wanna go back to the compound," she said to me. Eyes as big as the moon. She talked about how her parents were hurt, and she thought the guards did it. I wanted to pull her to me, hug her and tell her it would be okay, but I had the feeling my hands would just pass through her. I was afraid to test my theory and be right, so I just said, "Oh, sweetie. I don't think you have to worry about that."
I wish I could be more direct, and just say "because you're dead and we just killed all the guards we could find and when we find the next echelon we'll take care of them, too." But I couldn't. I didn't want to scare her, and I figured being dead was enough for one day. Instead, when she asked me what happened and I couldn't tell her, I displayed my uncanny ability to say the first thing on my mind without bothering to think about it. "I'm going to make you a promise, Azeeza. I am going to find out what happened to you. Then I will do everything in my power to make it right." She didn't really look comforted, but she looked a little less sad. "Azeeza? I don't break my promises." She nodded. Then she asked to come with me.
Gods damn it, why do they have to fuck with kids?

Coming Back to Life

Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life...

Father, I can't be like you. I want desperately to make you proud but I can't follow in your footsteps. From what I can tell, they lead to tragedy and loneliness, and this is not the life I want. I hear the whispers of bickering between you and your siblings, your father and your stepmother. You might very well care about them but I don't think you love them. Or maybe you do, but your duties and responsibilities are just so important that you can't really afford to love anyone. Just contemplating that sort of existence breaks my heart, Dad.
You've lived so very long, and your legacy is a trail of broken hearts, dead children, and flora that used to love you, once. A long and winding road, bordered with tombstones. Hyacinth, Cyparissus, Acantha, Daphne. I know you loved them, but Dad ... I am terrified of being just like you. I don't want the responsibilities that I take on to compromise, or even eradicate my ability to care for people. If I keep trying to live up to your name, to be just like you and follow in your wake, I'm going to get myself killed. Or worse, I'll get someone else killed, someone I'm only trying to protect. Someone I want only to love.
Your life looks really lonely, Dad. I don't want to be lonely anymore. I've been lonely since Mom died, and I can't stand the thought of a life as long as yours without anything to occupy my time besides the war against the Titans. But Dad... I hope you understand. I have a chance to change now. Gunnar, Brendan, Nate - even the laconic Jack - they're offering me a chance and a good reason to change. Through them and because of them I have a chance to be better, less vengeful. I shot that woman because it was what you would have done. You've killed people for less. When she used Nate's body against him, she committed an affront to every principle for which I stand. So I committed the same sin on a larger scale, in order to punish her. I justified it by saying I did it for someone else. Trying to be Daddy's little girl has only afforded me the luxury of being a hypocrite. I was so furious at her threat to a life that I took a life and that's not right, Dad. I don't want to be angry and so vengeful. I don't want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the people I've pissed off to catch up with me. Or with my friends. That's not something I used to think about, Dad. But I hope that whatever does happen, happens just to me. I am the person who pulled that trigger and I am the one who deserves the fallout. I'm not sorry, but I'm scared, Dad. I'm absolutely terrified of what will happen when that Scion's parent comes after me. I was really stupid that night, Dad. Really fucking stupid. I shot... I killed a woman, and I'm really goddamned lucky that the ground opened up and swallowed her body, and that my gun doesn't leave behind casings. Thanks, by the way.
I could have really fucked things up for Gunnar and Nate, if they'd gotten connected to a murderer. And more than that, I know that Nate feels obligated to protect me since I killed her on his behalf. Brendan doesn't think I did anything wrong, Jack will probably just revel at the chance to hit something new. And Gunnar... he pretty much said that whatever wants to get to me has to go through him.
Oh, and Dad? Speaking of Gunnar, um... I almost married him about a week ago. Long story, kinda, but we're dating now. He makes me feel happy, and safe... Uh, so that's life. We're planning, as a group, a strike against a re-education facility that we think has been responsible for the abductions of other Scions. They might have Horace. They definitely have Susan and at least ten other kids. Maybe more. The abductions, according to someone we talked to, are global. Dad... they killed Bridgitte. I don't know how to tell Samedi.
And Dad, if you can tell Uncle Hermes something, Angela's ok. She's in jail for arson but we talked to her and she's alright, for now. Um, yeah. I should go get some rest for tomorrow. Thanks for listening, and I hope you understand about the "my own path" thing.
Night, Dad.