The rest of the year passed quickly, and the routine went back to normal, almost. The Master showed me a ton more affection, which wasn't really saying much, seeing as he showed me absolutely none previously. He ruffled my hair, hugged me, or patted me at least once a day, and had an almost creepy sense of when I was angry, sad, or any other negative emotion. Which, admittedly, if I had spent a week being hit or having to pin down someone when their mood turned south, I'd probably have an intense sense of "oh no" if they showed even the smallest sign of a bad mood too, and would probably freak out and throw things and say things that the person liked wayyy more than the Master did. I respected him even more for being able to deal with that calmly. Probably gave him a heart attack every time I scowled, though.

Summer was entertaining. The Master kept his word and took me to work whenever I had it. My parents planned out a vacation to a waterpark that I wasn't able to beg out of, and we went shopping to get my hydrophobic- phobic meaning intense hatred instead of fear, in this case- ass a swimsuit. I ended up with a long-sleeve swimshirt and waterproof leggings for my swimsuit after Monica gave up trying to get me into anything with less fabric. She didn't let me get swim shoes and waterproof gloves. Or a mask. I think she was amused when I tried finessing her to get me a full scuba suit, but eventually we both argued the other into exhaustion.

My siblings happily hanging out and wandering in and out of Wolf Cabin, a hotel/waterpark combo with a small arcade somewhere, we land a room on the fourth floor, Monica having managed to win a ticket to a single-bed room, the reason we were going so early in the summer, in the middle of July. As my family chaotically moved about, me barely able to acquire a room key, attached to our deadly- I mean, harmless plastic neon wristbands made of the strongest material on Earth, a secret material known only to waterparks. I walked into someone as I glared at the stupid band I had forgotten to tuck the excess strap into the locking mechanism that not even the best lockpicker could undo without a powersaw. Meaning a scrapey bit of plastic was going to stab me and I'd die. Not to mention my parents forgot to bring scissors this time.

I scowled at the strap one last time before looking up to apologize to the odd person who stopped when I bumped into them instead of awkwardly stumbled and shoved past like I'd have done, only to scoff at my own apology, "Sorry- tch- sup? Didn't know you'd be here."

The Master gave me an amused look.

"Likewise. Why am I not surprised you'd wear a full suit when going swimming?" He asked, gesturing to my swimsuit. I looked down at it, before shrugging, looking back up at him.

"Probably because I spent the entirety of June's school days hanging out with you complaining about water and swimming," I answered honestly, "Monica said these people wouldn't allow full scuba gear even if I left out the air tanks."

"May!" I heard my youngest brother call, "You like banana?"

"Nah, Don, I like apples," I called back absently.

"Apples?" He asked, sounding confused.

"Apples!" I agreed, "Sorry. I can see you're going swimming, do you mind if I hang out wherever you set up camp? They'll force me to swim if I don't."

The Master rolled his eyes, light baggy t-shirt swaying in some unseen breeze caused by the AC, presumably, "If you didn't spend an entire day explaining swimming experiences, I'd think you didn't know how to. What's wrong with swimming?"

"Everything. Not to mention that "chlorine" smell you're so used to? Totally the smell of piss a few days old. Some dude did an experiment on it. And because it sucks. Badly. I fucking hate swimming-"

"May," William called, jogging over in flip-flops and shorts, not bothering with a shirt, "Come on, I can't go yet unless I have someone with a roomkey. Oh. Hey. Who're you?"

"William, Master, Master, William," I introduced with a half-hearted gesture, "But sure, allons-y, I guess."

The Master walked with us and William totally lied to the Master and said I loved swimming, which so wasn't true. At all. He then made up false stories about how very much I loved water and swimming. Which the Master believed. Because to him I'm apparently the shittiest liar on Earth. It was so unfair. William then asked the Master a bunch of very prying questions that I didn't reprimand him for because I was curious too, and then suddenly the Master and William were best friends and I watched in shock as they totally teamed up against me and dragged me into the water after setting up two tables.

It was a very cold wave pool that didn't smell of "chlorine", and I realized that the Master must've planned to come when they refilled the pool. Very. Cold. Anyway I had a totally fun time with William, the Master, and, eventually, Donovan, when I was stuck with him. After the Week of Hell, Don and I got along much better, and he went on walks with me and... Well he pretty much only calmed down if I was around, because he knew I fucking knew, somehow, and totally conspired against me. On the bright side Donovan was no longer fat. On the not-so-bright side he was taller and stronger than me, and thus taller and stronger than anyone willing to help him shower or dress him. I essentially was forced into raising him myself, and he stopped being so psychotic. To me, at least.

"May you like apple?"

"Hell yeah I do," I answered, "Are you having fun?"

"Hell yeah! Hell yeah!" He said excitedly, giggling. I grinned a lopsided grin at him, genuine if only because he knew when it wasn't. Plus I just taught him another swear. That makes it 9/12 swear words taught by me. Brilliant.

"Hey, your parents are wondering if you're hungry," The Master swam up. He could have walked. We were literally in the four foot area because Don wasn't comfortable being suffocated by his lifejacket even though he could easily stand in the deepest part of the pool without drowning, seeing as it only went up to five foot six until the rope-thing kept civilians away from the wave-making grates. Neither the Master nor I had that privledge. I mean, if the Master wanted to look like a sunflower he could, but like I'm sure he'd not. Plus he could swim. I mean I could too, but still. Neither of us would be able to stand without drowning. Point.

"Donalds?"

"Fries?" I offered instead.

"No Donalds?"

"Nah, but there's fries. Fries?"

"Fries?"

"Fries," I agreed.

"Fries! Hell yeah! Hell yeah! Hell yeah!" He crowed happily, slowly walking towards where the fries were. I let him go, the Master also letting him go. He didn't notice nor care that we weren't following him. He was probably way hungrier than anyone else here just because of the meds the psychiatrist prescribed for him to be doped up on.

"... How you're so patient with him, I'll never know," The Master said.

"Living through it kind of helps," I point out, "While it's not the same, my mental functions assuredly dropped to absolute dog shit. Though, that's not actually what made me want to be patient with him."

"What does that mean?"

"I can be patient, but typically I don't choose to be," We both started wading towards the tables. Me because I had finally been relieved of my duties and could go back to not swimming, and the Master for reasons not known to me.

"Right, and what made you decide to be patient with that spastic cunt?" He asked ironically, seeing as he had been patient with a spastic cunt not even half a year previous.

"You did. The constant confusion and pain and terror as I was unable to think properly, the episodes, shit like that? If you hadn't been there I'd certainly have been irrevocably lost. I wasn't able to trust myself, and I see much the same shit in Don. He doesn't understand, and literally everyone besides me and sometimes Taniya and William treat him like he's less than trash. No one's giving him the love and attention someone with his mental age needs, and no one's teaching him to do things, either," I shrugged, "He's not stupid, just behind and constantly in a state of confusion made worse by people thinking he already knows basic shit."

"Retardation and whatever you have are different-"

"And yet oddly enough a baby's tantrums and whatever I have's are extremely similar. Especially if said baby is in the body and form of an eight year old. Some day he'll be mentally thirty, even if his body is forty, and he'll look back and see nothing but pain throughout his life, and that shit's not gonna fucking fly with me."

"Because you don't want him to go through what you did?" The Master asked dryly.

I gave him an incredulous look, "Fuck no. I just don't want to see him placed in a home that doesn't take care of him and watch as those he trusts and loves visit him less and less until they don't even remember his name, which is going to fucking happen if those fucktards don't see that he can be a good human being if they only treat him well."

"Just shut up," William grumbled, "You already have Taniya and I to help with Don. Stop complaining about it already."

"Brooo, fuck off," I said, "I have aquired an acute attachment to the sound of my own voice speaking smoothly."

"Narcissist."

"Dumbass."

"Bitch."

"Cunt."

"Asshole."

"Dickface."

"Do you two do this often?" The Master asked, sounding more amused than anything else. Both William and I glanced at him, before looking back to each other.

"I mean," I say, about to make up some bullshit.

"Yeah, pretty much," William interrupted, sticking his tongue out at me.

I leaned down and threw chlorine water in his face. Soon lifeguards were blowing whistles at us because us splashing in foot-tall water might drown the hairy fat man relaxing six feet away. Or something. I had no clue why the no splashing rule was a thing, or why they enforced it in foot-tall water. Maybe they started whistling because William and I looked like we were getting ready to kill each other with our awesome waterbending abilities. Not.

"Children," The Master mocked.

"It's fine, William," I pat his chest before he can speak, "We're told to respect the elderly, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, we might accidentally give the old man a heart attack if we're too youthful."

I give William a weirded out look. That... sounded... "Have... You been watching Naruto?"

"... Shut up," William splashed away, towards the food, and I sighed heavily.

"Why Gai and Lee? Of all people," I muttered to myself as I strode- read as: also splashed- my way towards the Master's table, where I had set up camp.

Not that it did much, it was directly next to my family's table. The Master went to my family's table, apparently having struck up a pseudo-friendship with the adults too, though the heavy bruising of every person at that table besides the adult's made sure it didn't digress into actual friendship, he assured me.

I woke up, feet already on the carpeted floor before I even recognized that I was awake. I did that too often, I mused. One of these days I'd end up jumping directly face-first into a wall. Which wasn't really far from the truth, seeing as I was intimately close to one, nose inches from the only thing blocking the sight of my family. Slowly moving around, I put on socks and went outside the room, leaving a note on my bed explaining I was just walking around the building and that I'd be back before the sun rose entirely above the horizon if I was gone long enough for them to notice the note.

Hours pass as I pace the same hallway up and down, having calmed down enough to move past the nightmare and think about other things in my life. After what felt like mere minutes but the sky told me was way longer I was pulled from my pacing and tossed onto a bed. Probably because it was the only thing to sit on, I mused as the Master glared at me like I woke him up with my silent stalking of the hallways.

"Yes. I found her," He said, and I realized he had a phone in his hands.

I gave him a confused look. What the fuck, did my parents not even bother looking out of their door? I was pacing in the hallway that our room- and apparently the Master's- was in. If they peeked open their door and glanced both ways they'd have seen me! Wow. Just wow. Waiting patiently for him to finish the phone call, I flop backwards on his bed and stare at the popcorn ceiling. It was very dark. Spooky. Wow. ... I'm bored. I groaned as he hit me in the stomach with his phone, sitting next to me. I merely turn and cuddle against the warmth slab that he was.

"You had a nightmare so you decided to run away?"

"I had a nightmare so I decided to pace up and down a singular hallway, as was said in the note I left which explicitly said that I was not, in fact, running away," I muttered, pushing at him to lay down too. He doesn't. I'm cold.

"Your note said "Have fucking patience, I'm not a dog. Be back when the sun rises, maybe." actually," The Master corrected.

"Yeah. Is it my fault they didn't bother looking outside of their room? Our room is literally three doors down from here," I groaned, moving to curl under the warm blankets. I am picked up and set on the ground. I pout, before dropping my expression and rolling my eyes, flopping backwards on the carpet, "I'm fucking cold. What's the point of you if not to warm my cold dead heart?"

"To find you when you write vaguely threatening notes, apparently," The Master muttered, sounding just as disgruntled as I felt when I realized what lazy sacks of shit my parents were.

"Vaguely threatening is "They're coming." Vaguely threatening is "You'll wish we never meet again." Telling those fucktards that I'm not a dog and to be patient is literally just me complaining about how so very impatient they are and how they think whenever I vanish for literally any period of time without their knowledge or approval that I'll never return."

"... While you aren't wrong they're expecting me to scold you and return you," The Master said after a moment.

I gestured pointedly at him, "See? They're treating me like a dog. Why don't you just hit me really really hard and show them the bruise and tell them that the fist-or-hand-shaped bruise was from me tripping down the stairs on our way over. They'll be proud of what good parenting skills you have."

The Master was silent, and I didn't particularly care to look and see that I offended him or whatever. If my gaze remained on the ceiling then I could claim not to know he was super offended.

"They do that?" The Master asked after a moment, voice sounding awfully murderous.

"If I say yes will I have to help bury their bodies?" I asked almost regretfully. Oh. Right. He didn't yet know about that particular reason why new bruises appear, and why the CPS lady still didn't rule it abuse. Whoops, looks like he did now, "Jesus do you have to do that thing?"

"What thing?"

"That thing where you act like you know fucking everything and then I tell you something that you didn't fucking know because I thought you knew!" I complained, knowing how childish I sounded even as I frowned at the upside-down form of the Master, as I still hadn't sat up. He rolled his eyes at me.

"You mean authority?"

"No. I mean stop exuding your intellegence and self-confidence everywhere like you're Sherlock frickin Holmes, your vibes are confusing," I griped, gesturing pointedly at him as if that showed or explained whatever I was complaining about.

The Master rolled his eyes and huffed, looking as if my insults aimed at him were compliments. Which, seeing as I complain about good things that totally throw me off my game more than I complain about bad things about him, probably was true. I guessed that's what I did, though. Say an insult like it's a compliment and say a compliment like it's an insult. I observed the hotel/motel-esque room, looking pretty fucking casual. They all looked the same, didn't they? Unless they were for extremely rich people, all hotels and motels had the same or very similar looks.

"I take more care of you than your parents do," The Master said reluctantly.

"Yeah, but you're a friend," I pointed out, "They're a bag of dicks. There's a difference, though from this angle not much of one."

The Master rolled his eyes and tapped me on the head with a clothed foot.

"Stop being a bloody pervert and looking at my crotch and maybe you'll see differently."

I looked up at his upside down face and wondered on that, "Hmmm. You might be right. Hey, so you know how we're like three doors down from them?"

His gaze met mine, and he stared blankly, obviously trying to think where I was going with this. He'd not find out until we left the room, of course. If they think I'm a dog needing to be contained or I'll run off I'll damned act like it. Maybe I'll be lost in the Dells for the rest of eternity. That'd be fun. I'd just swim all day, starve. It'd be kosher. It'd be cool. Yeah. Not to mention the Master is way too rich and fancy to actually chase me.

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't," The Master groaned, flopping back on his bed much like I did, "You've been acting weird this entire vacation, and I don't want to know what the bloody hell you think is a good idea right at this moment."

He sounded awfully stressed, and I gave him a sheepish smile that he didn't see.

"Ah, yeah, I suppose you'd not really... I have a reputation to uphold, with my family," I admitted, "I tried, in the first few years, to be professional and logical, but that never worked, so I've created the perfect persona. Kind of like how I chill with my friend, except I'm more of a bastardous dick that makes things worse for everyone involved."

"Why," He murmured, sounding more like he was asking the gods than me.

"What, you think me, a thirteen year old, is above stooping to their level? Nah. I'm miserable, I'll make them miserable," I promulgated, shifting my gaze back to the ceiling.

"I've done that," The Master said, "It ends poorly."

"I know. You think I don't?" I affirmed, voice oddly echoing to my own ears. Yeah, had I not done exactly that the family three rooms over wouldn't have four bruised and aching children who are doing their best to forget that they're unhappy so they can enjoy their vacation. Changing my tone would only get them in a worse mood, "If I act like I am now... I'm not sure if we'd really survive the ensuing arguments. They're used to always winning, always being better. The moment I show even a shred of maturity around them they'd put unrealistic expectations on me. Look at how they shove Don on me, as an example. Later today I'll bet you two hundred that I'll be the one with Don ninety percent of the time."

"Why not bet twenty thousand at that point," He drawled expectantly.

I hummed, "Because I'd rather not go nineteen thousand in debt if I'm wrong."

"You won't be. They told me yesterday that you'd be taking care of Don all day today," The Master told me.

We both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment the Master sighed heavily and stood up, and I followed suit, both of us stretching before the Master led me out of the room. My plans were ruined when he kept a hold of me the entire time, practically dragging me passed the three rooms to where my parents had presumably woken everyone up for little to no reason.