Savor this chapter, despite its unpleasantness, because it is the last chapter in this story where Tobias MacClain—Doctor Tobias MacClain—has true friends. From the next round chapter, the number twenty, a new act begins, in which Viola Mae Reed and Teddy McGuire are complications on the other side of a war, where they believe in fighting for the light against all that is dark—or, in Teddy's case, cheering from the sidelines, or a plane. Tobias toes the line of light and dark, for he understands that sometimes doing villainous things can be justified for the right reasons. But the "right reasons" are always controversial. For instance, when I stole a civilian's car in order to escape from six terrifying officials from Higher Defense Headquarters, I felt my actions were justified. Suffice it to say, neither the officials, nor the car's owner, agreed.

And when Tobias robbed a bank, broke into a university, and interrupted nationwide broadcasts with his own face, he felt that it was all for the right reasons. But, like stealing a car, these acts are inherently criminal, and by most, will not be seen as good at all.

Viola Mae and Teddy were not yet aware of Tobias's less than noble plans for the future. In fact, Tobias was not fully aware, himself. All of their minds swam with turbulent thoughts of the present predicament; each so overwhelmingly filled with these "rough waters" that each comrade felt numb, as if drifting at the bottom of the gloomy sea, beneath it all.

Tobias leaned against the window, watching dark buildings brush by through the fog of his breath. Viola Mae sat in the passenger seat in front of him, her hand trailing behind her to hold his. Teddy had his eyes on the road ahead, lips pursed. The radio played music quietly, but no-one in the car could hear it, as if each person were trapped in their own bubble. Again, as if underwater, it was deafeningly silent. The pressure of their individual puzzlements swallowed the insignificant garble of the radio.

The streets were empty, the night was cold. Despite the heating of the vehicle, Tobias felts chills throughout his body, circulating from his cheek, against the frosty window, running under the defensive watch that Viola Mae had returned to him, and whispering—barely felt—through his shriveled half.

"On the bright side," Teddy offered, clearing his throat, "there's no traffic."

The others grimaced. Though both appreciated his optimistic attempt to lighten the mood, they were both lost deep in their worries. I cannot say what exactly Viola Mae was thinking, for in Tobias's transcript, he was too preoccupied with his own brooding to make any attempt at reading her. I could not ask her personally for her thoughts, because she does not like me, even remotely, and most of our correspondence has been through letters; in which she only writes what she wants to be known. In this case, her thoughts were private. From the tone of her writing, I could extrapolate that she was afraid for her friend but could glean no more. Please take it up with her; and, while you are at it, please explain that I am not a cockroach and insist she cease to call me as such, for as long as she does, I will continue to write her as a woman, despite knowing her preference to preserve her youth and "coolness" with terms like "lady" or "bird."

Her friend, Tobias, on the other hand, I know was afraid for her, and angry with himself. How had he been so complacent, and so foolish, as to bring Viola Mae—and the wonderful fiancé whom he loved, but couldn't help but envy—into his mess? Why had he stayed with them for so long? Why hadn't he figured out what to do next? Why had he forced them to lie for him? Why had he drunk so much wine? Why hadn't he washed his mask? Why—

"Tobias, how's your vision?" Viola Mae asked, turning in her chair to look at him.

He sighed glumly, not moving his head from the glass. "Terrible."

"At least you can't see the chances of me crashing, eh, Tobias?" Teddy joked.

Tobias huffed and grumbled. There were many reasons why he could not drive, and why he did not like to get into cars in general. Firstly, he had never learned to drive. Secondly, there was always a high chance of accidents in vehicles, and it made him very skittish to have to see glass shards from the windscreen spearing the chests of his drivers whenever he was on the road. Thirdly, at this particular time, his body was still processing copious amounts of wine, and not only did he feel ill, he felt blind and powerless—the visions of the future that crowded the edges of his vision were jumbled and blurry and provided not only a migraine, but a nagging urge to vomit. On top of that, he had not had the time to clean out his mask since his last adventure in it, and its stale sweat smell did not help his mood or his wellness.

"How much water have you had, bud?" Teddy asked, eyes flicking to him in the driver's mirror.

"Enough. I'm fine."

"If you were fine, you'd have vision," Viola Mae retorted scornfully. She reached for the water bottle rolling at his side on the back seat and squinted through it. He had drunk most of it, so she had no scorn to give and set the bottle down again and reluctantly retreated to her seat. "That's the problem with his powers, Teddy. All in his head."

"If I knew that I would be on the run tonight, I wouldn't have had the wine," Tobias huffed haughtily. He folded his arms and slouched away from the window. "I'm doing my best. I napped, I ate the crackers, and I drank most of the water. All right? You sound like my mother."

Viola Mae stuck out her tongue.

Teddy chortled, shaking his head at his own thoughts. He grinned at Tobias through the driver's mirror, his reflection dark and fuzzy in the night, but visible. "Imagine meeting this shady kid and having to excuse yourself immediately. Nature calls."

Tobias scowled. "Thanks for that, Teddy."

"You're welcome!"

"Look, there's the field!" Viola Mae exclaimed, finger tearing through the air to point. Her fingers splayed against the glass as she looked out.

Tobias rubbed his breath off the window to look and felt his stomach drop. Maple Ridge High School was the bleak opposite of a welcoming place, especially in the dark. If he didn't know better, he would have assumed the place to be abandoned, for it stood in an unsettling state of disrepair.

High chain-link fences surrounded the property. The building itself looked closer to a prison than a place of education, built of worn bricks draped in black moss and lichen that flickered green in the dim, faulty lights of the nearby field. Wooden boards were nailed across a fraction of the windows. Everywhere, the grass grew high and gnarled.

"Yikes." Teddy gave a low whistle.

The entire property was dark, lit only by the old yellow streetlamps on the curb outside the perimeter fence, and by the two dying bulbs of the sports field. Other lamps stood dark and foreboding.

The car slowed and inched uneasily to a stop outside the field. With a turn of the key, the headlights blinked out, the engine silenced, and the heat gradually began to dissipate. The three companions exhaled heavy breaths, each independently knowing whatever mess Tobias was in, it could either get better or worse from here. Eyeing the strip of blackness in the middle of the field, where two lights had gone out, it felt as if it was bound to get worse.

Tobias, feeling his skin crawl and his blood run cold, tentatively slid his fingers around the door handle and reluctantly slipped out to the concrete pavement. He dragged the duffel bag out with him and looped the strap around his shoulder. He pushed up his glasses, but the action felt alien over the silicon disguise, adding to his growing anxiety. He grimaced, squinting at the dilapidated building, then the overgrown field.

"Bear hug!" Teddy jumped him from behind, surprising him into losing his footing. Tobias tripped and stumbled and fell sorely into the man's arms, hanging breathlessly.

"Ow, Teddy," he breathed, blinking behind his spectacles. He squirmed uselessly. "Ow."

Teddy turned him around and squeezed him tighter, this time from the front, then squeezed him and Viola Mae together. He ruffled the grumbling Tobias's fake hair and let both of his companions go free again with an overly loud kiss to each of their heads. "Mwah! Mwah!"

Tobias's peg scraped against the cement as he stood unsteadily back. His arms lifted at his sides for balance as he peered down at the awkward equipment. Then, he looked up at Teddy, and gave a small smile, peering over the rims of his glasses. "I'll miss you, too."

Teddy gushed, putting his hands over his heart. "Aw, Tobias... You must still be drunk, saying cute, sweet things like that."

Tobias scowled and readjusted the bag strap. "Shut up, you." He nudged his glasses again. The nose pads found little traction on the silicon, and they slid back down almost instantly. He held them in place with a finger. "Take care of yourself." He pinched the arms instead. "That way Viola Mae won't have to."

"Psh." Teddy waved his hands dismissively. "See you later, hero. Stay safe, stay sober."

"Shut up," Tobias groaned. He shook his head and exchanged glances with Viola Mae. Her smirk sided with her fiance's bad humor, so he rolled his eyes and turned away with a wave. "Goodbye, 'pacifist'. Come along, Viola Mae."

Viola Mae pushed Teddy—the so-called "pacifist"—back into the driver's seat and waited for him to lock the doors. She checked each door individually and gave him a thumbs-up. "All right, let's get on with it."

A pacifist is usually someone who opposes violence. In Teddy's case, a pacifist was "someone who cannot hold his own in a fight and so chooses to stay behind and is encouraged to do so by his more experienced and protective fiancé."

Viola Mae wore a thick leather belt of knives around her waist but was otherwise uncostumed. The holsters softly brushed against her sweatpants. Dressed in her usual comfort attire, with a hoodie thrown over the top, she didn't look like a superhero at all. An avid knife-collector maybe, but certainly an underdressed one.

She pulled one curved dagger out and trailed behind Tobias, looking cautiously in all directions, then vanished.

"Do you suppose we're supposed to meet in the dark spot?" Tobias mused. His chest felt tight, and his limp slow and vulnerable. Of the four powerful but poorly serviced lights on the field, the two on either side of the center were burnt out, leaving a strip of black sandwiched between the yellowing greens.

Viola Mae's footsteps fell silently, but he did not need to look over his shoulder and see her to trust that she was there.

"Don't worry. I've got your back." The thought made him smile, because he knew it well. "How's your vision?"

His brow knit in concentration and his eyes narrowed to the sidewalk underfoot. "Aching. But, clearing." At a sudden wave of dizziness, he stopped to clench and unclench his raw right fist, feeling the shock up his arm. The pain did less for him than it had before and he realized that either he was too used to it, or the burn was healing. He muttered a curse under his breath.

At a cry from behind, he swiveled on his heels, inhaling sharply. Tense all over, his fingers splayed at his sides for balance, prepared to duck and swipe at whatever threat there was. But, there was nothing. In fact, there was so much nothing that Tobias's heart began to race and his eyes grew wide and wet. He turned and turned, then stood straight again, aggression receding. He looked from side to side and all around. Nothing.

"Viola Mae?"

Nothing.