Waking up, I stretch my arms and roll off my bed as per usual, shaking my head, trying to get that horrible dream out of it.

I'm surprised I didn't wake up sooner honestly. I usually have a way of forcing myself awake when I'm in a bad dream, yet that last one felt so real and so permanent that I couldn't break out of it.

I walk around my room, doing a myriad of stretches and morning exercises, a couple lunges, some pushups... just a quick routine to wake my body up before I run to the shower.

Turn it on, pee, flush the toilet, clothes off, hop in once it's warm while listening to comedy stations on my phone. Browse the social media, message the people... it's become so routine now that I don't even realize most people don't bring their phones in the shower. It's water resistant anyway... what harm is there?

Sitting under the stream of heat I let out a sigh of content and run through the list of things I need to do for the day, top of the list being traveling to see my parents. For some reason, I can't remember if I'd actually fixed their outlet, so I need to make sure it got done.

Stepping out of the shower causes goosebumps to crawl up my arms. I know turning the water cold before the end of my shower can counteract that, but I'm not masochistic. That's insane.

I grab my towel, go through the motions, then wrap it around my waist as I brush my teeth while opening the door to let the steam out.

Once done with all that I brush my hair and throw on a hat. Curly hair. While women claim to love it, I can't see it as anything but a damn curse. Impossible to do anything with unless you cake it in gel or some kind of holding liquid.

Button up flannel, jeans, and some slip on vans complete my morning preparations as I head downstairs. Checking my phone shows me 9:30 which means I slept in a little too long. I go to my recent calls list and try to call 'Dad'.

"Huh, weird... no service. The tower must be down."

Pushing the worry in my mind, I make an excuse and head downstairs where the fear I'd just pushed down comes roaring back to the forefront of my mind.

Sitting with one of my best friends, my Mom and Dad stare up at me as I come down the last steps.

"Hey, don't even try to go back upstairs Brat!"

As I'm mid-turn, my dad yells at me and I freeze.

"I w-wasn't about to go to my room and leave through the window what are you talking about?" I shakily respond.

"Just come sit down boy," my dad responds while sighing, and people wonder where I get it from.

"Honestly, it's like he thinks we haven't been around him his whole life," he mutters under his breath. "Hey! Come on stop stalling, the food's getting cold and we don't have all day!"

"Please, as if you have anything to do besides clean the house," I reply, not asking why we wouldn't have all day.

My dad usually doesn't have much to do but clean the house though, so I normally would have asked what his earlier statement meant. My mom works as a broker and makes more than enough to fund their life. That combined with my mom being controlling lead to my father quitting his job. Now he's a stay at home glorified maid. He spends his time reading, drinking, learning languages, and keeping in contact with people for my mom. He's her assistant, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

"Come on man, if this is the last time you see us would you really wanna waste it? Get over here and have a drink!" My friend responds.

I freeze up again, then fire back, "Since when do you make solid arguments, Frank?" The man really never uses his brain unless it's for programming. He's a really smart guy, but it's mostly book smarts. He's got about as much common sense as a 2-year-old but even they would know that you can't put a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the toaster ALREADY made to try and toast the bread.

"Because apparently in here," he waves around above his head, referring to my house, "I'm not as dull as I am in reality. Thanks for that by the way, it's actually pretty sweet of you."

He winks at me but I'm too tense from his statement to care. That statement confirms it whether or not I'd wanted to hear it. Even my made up versions of them know this isn't real, how could I not.

"Don't over-think it, sweetheart. Just see it as a way to spend time with us before you have to go on a long trip, or before we do. We've had months where we don't see each other, it's the same as that so stop being difficult. And don't start crying." My mom says, trying to be gentle but failing.

"I'm not. It's this damn... my eyes just sweat when I wake up," I claim, wiping my face. "It's funny, even in here you suck at emotions mom."

She really does. Good or bad, she's never been great at expressing herself but when she does, it usually means someone's either about to die or she's going to die of happiness.

Talking with them is nice. I didn't realize until now how important it was to me. It's only been a day if even that, yet knowing what I know makes the moment that much more important. So I lose myself in the moment as we all sit back, eating the food and drinking the drinks that weren't there when I first walked in.

"You'll be fine Vist, you always were the best at adapting in our group. Just adapt to this, and move on. Figure it out and turn it in your favor like always. Plus, it's not guaranteed you'll never see us again, right?

He sits across the table from me, my parents having disappeared before I noticed. The dream is collapsing, and he's the last to leave.

"You're just my brain talking to me," I whisper to Frank.

"Like that matters, it's just having me say what I would if it really were me and you know it."

The cheeky bastard looks smug. I know it's true, but Frank isn't supposed to be the type of guy to point that out. And he definitely isn't supposed to look so damn full of himself for getting one over on me again.

I lower my head.

"Look, man, even if this is the last time you see us, it's not like you can't make new friends. Make a new family. That Angel seemed pretty hot, and your new mom i- okay okay," he lifts up his hands in mock surrender as I glare at him. "So, not mom, but your new... female in charge of your life? Seems pretty hot I MEAN NICE as well. Don't just hate everyone because you got displaced; that's unfair. That's immature. It's not like it's their fault. You're their son, they don't know you changed. They're just excited you didn't drown."

When I hear him pause for a second, I look up and open my mouth thinking he is done there, ready to lash out, but he interrupts me before I can get a word in after we make eye contact.

"If you can't find a reason to be happy then just try to make them happy and who knows, you might come across a reason to live at the end of it all. They might have lost theirs if you hadn't come along."

His eyes seem to read right through everything I'll say. I look down again and don't respond for a while as I try to figure out WHAT to say. It's not fair.

When I lift my head to respond, he's gone.

Emily rushed up the stairs and into their room, immediately manipulating mana into her hands to undo the bindings on her son.

"[Release]! Garrett, you said they wouldn't hurt him!" she yelled as she observed her son screaming with tears streaming down his eyes, blankets becoming looser as her magic seeped into them, finally falling away from his thrashing legs.

"I-It's not my fault! They shouldn't have! They're blankets! Who struggles so hard against blankets it hurts!"Garrett exclaimed back, doing his best to hold the boy down and keep him from hurting himself further.

"If they couldn't hurt him then why is he crying like that? And he isn't even one yet, it's not his fault! He looks like he's dying, put him to sleep already!" she cried out in a panic.

"You know that will only make it worse when he wakes up! He'll have a headache on top of whatever soreness he got from struggling!"

"I don't care if he has a migraine LOOK AT HIM! Put him to sleep!" She yelled at her daft husband.

Looking again at their son, she could already see traces of bruises forming around his midsection. Though, what troubled her the most was the look of anguish on the boy's face.

"It won't... [DREAM]!" Garrett shouted, releasing the mana he'd been twining together.

The child quieted as he immediately fell into a deep slumber.

"Go get Vanessa, dear," Garrett said, caution evident in his voice.

They'd already lost the boy once today, this happening was no coincidence. They'd both seen people die in agony but Emily had never seen someone scream like that. It didn't look like a scream of purely physical pain.

Looking at her child, she let more tears fall down her cheeks and was once again stroking his head, trying to ease the sleeping child's pain as much as her own. Her husband, not daft at all, had put the boy further than [sleep] into a [dream]. Whatever troubles he had, if they weren't physical, the dream he'd have should help resolve them. Unfortunately, it also meant that Garrett would be quite strapped for mana. The spell was a lot more complex than sleep. If something else were to happen...

"Em, sweetheart, get Vanessa. We will need her when our son wakes." Garrett said again, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Glaring at him, she replied, "Why must I go? Why don't you go retrieve her? God knows you owe the woman an apology anyway," she chided.

She knew he didn't deserve that. He'd been as terrified as she'd been distraught, but the thought of leaving her son right now tore at her heart.

"You are the quicker of us both and we don't know how stubborn the boy is yet. If he is anything like his parents, he'll be waking up within the hour. Not even a child can be put to sleep twice on the same day. What if something else goes wrong? We need her here soon my flower," he responded gently. "Now go, I'll be with him until you're back."

A look in his direction was enough to know he had ignored her provacation and she appreciated it. With a small nod, she stood up.

"Hurry though, we both know he likes you more."

Chuckling and wiping at her eyes, she nodded and was out the window before Garrett could even notice she'd gone.

Garrett watched her go with a small amount of wonder in his eyes. He'd never understand how she did that, but then again, she'd never understood how he altered weapons and cast greater spells. Her a Rogue and he a Mage, there would be no way he could understand her movement unless he spent decades training like she had. No doubt whatever technique she just employed was one of her best too and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be able to defend against it.

Looking down to his son of a half year while struggling to get his own tears under control, he wondered what he'd done wrong to deserve all this. Just yesterday his son was a gibbling mess of a boy, laughing and crawling about, and today... aside from nearly drowning in a bowl of water left out for their fox, where had that fear and pain come from?

The man pulled the blanket back up over the boy. How he'd hurt himself on [Bind] was another question he'd need to address.

"They were just blankets... he'd have to have been wrenching with all he had to get those bruises. He's a child, he should have stopped moving when it hurt just a little bit. Where did any of this come from?" Sobbing slightly, he pulled up a chair and rested his head in his hands.

A few minutes later, the man lifted his head to wipe his tears and look at the boy. Sighing, he fastened the blankets back over the top of him.

"The little rat won't stop moving even when he looks content it seems."

Chuckling to himself, he sat back down and let out another breath of air, a draft brushing against his neck from the open window.

"You know, if you keep sighing around the boy he's going to pick up that bad habit of yours."

Jumping out of his chair and launching it into the floor behind him, Garrett whirled about to see Vanessa standing by the window with his wife next to her. He took a deep breath to still his erratic heart.

Laughing, she chided him again, "You're getting too complacent Mr. Tearen, what if I were a harpy?"

Garrett let out a dry laugh as his wife walked back over to their boy.

"What do you mean if, woman? You're just a little bigger than the average one is all," he responded while turning to his son.

With a look like she'd taken offense, Vanessa followed Emily over to the boy. Peering down, a look of surprise sprouted on her face upon noticing the bruises.

"Seems like he already inherited your stubborn side, I can't believe he hurt himself on blankets. Did you wind them tight enough to hurt him yourself because I can't believe a toddler would do this through the pain."

Feeling the bite in her words, he glanced up at her to see her staring back at him.

Dull pain in his throat and chest, he responded, "Look, I know you didn't deserve that earlier and I am sorry. You've done much for us, repaying you like that is a cruelty I'll not inflict upon you again in the future."

Looking into his eyes for any sign of resentment for having to apologize and finding none, Vanessa nodded.

"I know you didn't mean what you said and I know you were stressed. I thank you for not trying to justify your actions but know that if it does happen again, it will be the last time. I'm a Celestial, not a Human. You are lucky I even came at all. I'm five times your age Tearen, you'll do well to treat me as such."

With a small nod, Garrett met her eyes in a sincere manner.

'That's what she fell in love with,' she thought.

Vanessa couldn't blame Emily either. One of her favorite qualities about the man. No matter how embarrassing or traumatizing the situation, if it was serious, he'd stand his ground and take responsibility. It was beyond admirable.

"Now then, let's fix this little brat shall we?" She finished, taking steps over to the crib and resting a hand on the boys head.

Garrett nodded and smiled lightly, seemingly glad to get that over with and not commenting on her acting like a big shot. He glanced at the boy and Emily only to see her grinning at him. Turning red, he looked back to his son and removed the blanket.

"He has bruises all over his legs and midsection mainly around the left and right sides, excluding the one on his upper chest. That is most likely from him pushing his elbows into the bedding trying to sit up. On that note, his arms and elbows are bruised lightly as well from where I had to hold him down. The boy was thrashing about like he was possessed," he explained

Spreading her mana out over him for the second time today, Vanessa let it seep into him to circulate throughout his body and give her an idea of what was wrong. With a gasp, she shot Emily and Garrett both a look of reproach.

"The boy has bruises on his bones Emily; his right hand has two fractured fingers. You'd said it was only some bruising and I'd be here mainly to relieve the resulting headache. What happened while I was gone?"

Both looked at her with worry evident in their eyes while Emily took up the response, "W-we didn't know it was so bad. He was thrashing about, sure, but could he really have hurt himself that severely?"

Vanessa nodded and looked back down at the boy, watching the bruises slowly disappearing one by one as she healed him. Humans always found it amazing that Celestials didn't need to use a spell matrix to do such complex workings with their mana. The direct manipulation of it is something rarely any human has ever been able to do, and never with enough efficiency to heal like this.

Nodding, Vanessa responded, "His bruises are deep, this will take a few minutes."

They both looked a little shocked at how long it would take. Partners for years, the fact that she couldn't heal him quickly wasn't lost on them.

Sure enough, four minutes later all the bruising was gone and the fingers were set back to normal as if nothing had transpired. Sleeping as sound as he'd been, the child made not a peep save his breaths.

Looking up, Garrett opened his mouth, then shut it. Then opened it again, and stopped. He seemed worried to ask whatever was on his mind. As he opened his mouth a third time, a different voice asked.

"Will he be normal? Is his head... ok? I know people sometimes are different when they've been..." Emily's voice trailed off as she took a deep breath and restarted, "Is he okay?"

Vanessa nodded.

"He's fine. I noticed nothing deteriorated or otherwise dead when I poked around his head earlier. I couldn't tell you if he's any different than he was before since you'd never let me check him before today," she said with some sass, "but I can assure you he seems fine. It is not the reason he did this to himself," Vanessa said, looking down at the boy.

Hearing Vanessa's statement, both parents immediately sank back into their chairs with relief written on their faces.

Looking down, she started up again.

"However, I am surprised at how much the boy managed to damage himself in so little time. It's like he was trying to kill himself with wounds alone. If he wasn't so mentally sound, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd have passed out from the pain. You two shou- ah!"

With a yelp, she looked down to see the boy, eyes open and glistening, stroking her right wing through the crib, having rolled over to the edge of it to be close enough to touch her.

Gasping, Emily exclaimed, "How he keeps managing to move around and not attract attention is beyond me. He's a child for goodness sake. He should be making noise, he normally does."

Nodding his head, Garrett agreed, "It's true. When you left earlier, he almost jumped off the bed when we weren't looking. Normally he'd move toward Em when he's hungry; this time he was pushing away and doing whatever he could to get away from us. He wouldn't relent until we brought out a cup of mash to feed him instead." Nodding to their son's hand, he asked, "Would you like me to have him to stop?"

"Don't be silly," she responded with a glare, "It's you I don't like, not this innocent thing."

Garrett let a resigned smile trail across his lips and Vanessa smirked. That's how it should be for the next few days, he was too rude.

Withdrawing her wing she lifted it up out of the child's reach and over the top of the crib back down to him again, chuckling as his eyes seemed to be in despair as he watched it leave, only to look... well, she was concerned with the look he'd had when she gave him the wing back. Strangely, she wasn't particularly unnerved when the boy touched her wing like it usually felt. It was... pleasant. Soothing in a way.

"Right, right. Look at him, little Garrett junior! Taking after his old man, already wooing a Celestial. You'd better watch out boy, this aunt of yours will never let you go if you make her fal-" Is as far as he'd gotten before he was pushed out of his chair, eliciting a laugh from his son and wife both.

"He'll be twice the man you are, any of my kind would be lucky to have him, " Vanessa stated, pulling back her hand she'd used to shove him lightly off his chair.

Well, lightly in her eyes.

"Wait, I thought you'd decided not to name him that?"

"We did." An angry wife retorted, shooting a glare at her husband after getting her laugh in. "His name is Damien, after my father, isn't it dear?"

No sane man would disagree with the look she was giving him so instead, Garrett sullenly turned away.

"What are you"

The sound silenced the room like a knife slicing through butter as all eyes turned to the boy. Words no one here could understand and said in an infants voice, Garrett and Emily immediately began cooing and looking at their child with excitement while Vanessa narrowed her eyes and looked deep into the boys own.

"That's the first normal sound he's made since you left last, I think he really does like you most Vanessa," Emily said, clear envy on her face.

Breaking eye contact with him, the Celestial looked at her friend then back at the child. A look of innocence on his face as he played with her wing again, yet the Celestial kept a look of concentration for a moment longer before returning to normal.

Shaking her head, she turned to Emily and finished her earlier statement, "Well, regardless of whether you even had a chance of being liked more, you two need to keep a close eye on this child. If he gets into another fit again, there is no telling if he really will injure himself beyond repair next time. I need to be getting back, but don't hesitate to call if you need anything Em. I'll be here in a moment."

"I will," Emily assured.

Vanessa turned for the door when Garrett spoke up.

"Coming through the window like that... you'll get yourself in trouble if a guard sees you, you know. Regardless of your position."

She shrugged and continued, grabbing the handle.

"Thank you," he stated.

Leaving the building behind, the civilians passing by on the road gave the Celestial that was talking to herself a wide berth as she tried to decide whether it was a coincidence, or she'd actually heard a small inflection in the boys' tone... as if he were asking her a question.

"What was that we heard?" a voice asked.

"Too soon to tell but definitely suspicious!" another one chuckled out while spirling around in the air.

"This... this could help. He might be usef- AH!"

"WITCH!," a green light screamed, dodging the fire shot in her direction.

The childlike apparition stuck her tongue out at the winged figure and flew off into the distance, away from the home where a small boy was sweating bullets.

'Terrifying.'

The first thought Vistiel had after seeing the way she was glaring at him. Hurriedly, he'd adopted an innocent, drooling look on his face while simultaneously being scared she wouldn't fall for it.

Apparently, it worked, however unlikely, as seconds later the woman turned back to the two... to his... caretakers.

The Angel glanced up to the two when they spoke to her, then looked back down at him with a look on her face more akin to thought than suspicion.

After she'd turned away again and began talking, all the tension in his mind finally released. Something about the way she'd glared at him unnerved him immensely and he'd do anything, even act like an incompetent toddler, if it meant not seeing that look again. His two caretakers, after hearing all she had spoken, looked down at him with traces of suspicion in their eyes. Now he was convinced the woman wasn't fooled. She wanted him dead. She told them he was a body snatcher. She was no Angel, the lady was a Demon.

Once the Angel/Demon had left his two caretakers were once again completely focused on him but with a far more meticulous and cautious approach, be it due to his actions or what the woman had said to them to make them switch their attitude. Either way, there was always one in the room with Vistiel and he wasn't happy about that at all.

Sitting in the female caretaker's lap, he tried his best to play his part. Absent look on his face, playing with her long auburn hair, drooling and biting it... Nothing seemed to cheer the woman up though, as all she did was watch him with worry on her face.

After what felt like hours, she finally seemed to cheer up when Vistiel made eye contact with her and smiled. Standing up with him in her hands, she did a quick twirl with him held out at arm's length right as the man entered the room.

Vistiel did his best to suppress the look of horror he felt from reaching his face but failed miserably. Being spun around by the insane woman had made him feel like he was going to launch out of her hands and into the wall at any moment.

'Save me from this monster', his eyes pleaded and luckily, the man was only too happy to oblige.

Muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a reprimand, he pulled Vistiel out of the woman's evil clutches.

Vistiel quickly latched onto his arms and refused to let go when the woman tried to take him back. More talking. They seemed content to sit on the bed next to each other, petting him like the man was some animal. Which he wasn't. He was grown dammit! He was 26 for god's sake! Give him some space, put him down, p-

"STOP PETTING ME!" He shouted, gaining their attention but not their compliance. They just laughed at him. Laughed.

Defeated and feeling down, the man-child just sighed. Trying to push off them and get to the bed was a chore but was finally allowed. Walking was right-out though, as the moment he'd tried to stand his knees buckled.

Grunting in frustration, which sounded more like a squeal to his caretaker's delight and his irritation, he tried again and was met with a similar result, this time landing on his face as his arms gave out before he could even push himself up into a stand.

Reluctantly he deigned to crawl, dragging his pudgy, slow body across the soft blankets on the bed to get as far away from them as possible.

Once he'd gotten to the pillows Vistiel finally relaxed, which was very needed what with how tiring that monumental task had been. He must have crawled 5 feet easily.

Vistiel looked at the two infuriating giants back where he'd begun his epic crawl to see they were both chuckling at his panting as he laid on his back. Turning away from them and looking to the ceiling, he finally realized how tired he was. How completely worn out he was. He'd been through a lot this last day and the stress was piling up, both physically and mentally.

Trying to force himself to stay awake was slowly becoming impossible. No matter how much he wanted to dream of them and his friends again, no matter how much he wanted to hear them telling him it would be ok, that these people would take care of him and love him as they had, he knew that he'd most likely never get to see them again. That dream was the last he'd see of them and it hurt.

"Damn wood ceiling," he muttered under his breath as his eyes slowly closed against his will, the blurry ceiling once again being the last thing he saw as he felt the glistening droplets travel down the side of his new face.