It took a very long time for Jason to wake up. An even longer time for him to work off his magical hangover, and the longest time of all for Optic to finally show up again.

What didn't take very long, was for Kamille to pick up on some curious oddities with her newly returned friend. First of all, he wasn't wearing his gloves. When asked about it, he had made up some excuse of losing one of them in the park, but Kamille didn’t buy it.

The second weird thing also had to do with his hand. There was a small cut between his middle and pointer finger; as if he had been squeezing his fist around a small, sharp object and had paid the price.

The third, was how angry and irritable he had been once he had showed up. There was no happy reunion, no jokes, and no laughs. He had merely appeared, and that was it. The Jugas had tried to engage in conversation many times, but were shot down on every occasion.

Sometimes, when she really strained her ears, she could hear him muttering to himself; crazed rants that made no sense out of context. It always seemed like he was having a one-sided conversation with some unseen person, but he was talking too quickly and too quietly to make any specific words out.

Since Optic obviously didn't want to be bothered, Kamille passed the time by caring for, and talking to Jason. Their topics varied from the weather to the end of the world, but Optic and his brothers often took the spotlight in their chats. They usually exchanged stories and filled each other in on what they had missed: Jason told her about his short chat with Super, and Kamille filled him in on Dr. Schmaltz.

Sometime during their latest banter (which happened to be an argument over watermelon), Optic had fallen asleep against the moist, brick wall; leaving the Jugas able to speak about him freely.

“What do you think Mirage, Alexi, Blur, and Super are? Super told me they weren't brothers -he said Optic was basically his father- so what are they?” Jason asked as he used his thumbnail picked at some dirt that had lodged itself under his other nails sometime over the course of the past 3 days.

“I don't know. We could ask Optic, but based on what Alexi told me, I don't think he will answer truthfully...if at all.” Kamille squinted up at the sky, watching the fluffy white clouds drift lazily by. She wished they could be inconspicuous in a hotel or something, instead of in all of these dirty alleys (where, she realized, they had been spending a lot of time).

“Yeah, my little mind tour didn't help very much. It only gave me more reason to be concerned.” Jason flicked the little speck of soil away, glancing briefly at the still form of Optic.

Kamille tried again to comb her hair out with her fingers. Oh, what she would give for a hairbrush right about now. “I wish he would trust us. I mean, we don't even know his name, and we've saved his life! The least he could do is tell us what's happening.”

Jason said nothing, but his silence was all the agreement Kamille needed. They both sat there, watching Optic snore, not caring about how creepy that looked or sounded. “I wonder what he's dreaming about…” Jason started, moving a bit closer to the sleeping hero.

Kamille grabbed his arm, eyes wide and frightened, “No. Jason, you are not doing that again. Do you want Superman-Man to come back?” she hissed, had he really learned nothing from last time?

Jason yanked his sleeve from her grip, “relax, I'm not going to enter. It was just a thought.” Optic turned over in his makeshift bed and muttered something about keys, “Still though, normally he's having nightmares by now. I can only wonder what's different this time.”

Kamille nodded and returned her hand to her lap, “yeah, that is a bit odd.” Her eyes never left his mask, contemplating how easy it would be to just lift it off his face.

Jason followed her gaze and frowned, “yup, even still, we should respect his privacy. Right?” He gave her a pointed look, his message clear.

“Right.” Kamille sighed, “It doesn't hurt to fantasize though.” She backed away, erasing her previous temptation from her mind. That would completely eradicate any trust that they had built with Optic, and she didn't want to do that.

“I just- I wish he would tell us things. Anything would work, and I just want to help him.” she continued after a minute, tears pricking the edge of her vision as the usual bustle of the city started up again outside.

“Agreed.” Jason had the last word in their conversation, before they both spiraled into silence once more.

In the midst of their respective trains-of-thought,  they failed to notice the shadows that snuck across the floor; draining the color from whatever it slithered across.

A melting figure formed from the liquid shadows behind their back, a tall, monochrome man in a tuxedo. Several tentacles of black goop protruded from his spine, waving gently from side to side in the slight breeze. In fact, the only color he had on him at all was a large, red and blue swirled gem that was pinned to his breast pocket.

The sun reflected off of his melting hair -which covered his eyes very well- as he spoke, startling the Jugas into facing him. “Are you sure you wish to know? The truth can be harmful, but incredibly valuable and hard to obtain. If you are positive, I can tell you everything he didn't; but it won’t come free.”