"Uhhhh..." I freeze up, unsure of what to say. Man I really screwed this one up. Why did I say that? I had one job, and it was to NOT let him know I see him like that! Crap. Now what?

"Hold on," the King of Hell starts to briskly walk back to the restaurant with a determined look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I remember," he replies cryptically, "I remember everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"He was scraped. He's gone."

"Who are you talking about?"

"We'll come back to that in a moment, but did you just call me dad?"

"Uhhhh... yes?"

"Well, this is awkward. I mean, I don't really mind, but it kinda caught me off guard."

"Sorry. It just sorta slipped out. I don't have any parents actually because I was written from scratch. I was not a natural birth. Reaper was a lucky one, but me, I have no family."

"That... sounds like it was hard."

"Eh," I shrug, "I at least have you, right?"

"Yeah," the King of Hell chuckles, "I guess so."

"So what's on your mind?" I ask.

"I had a son," the King of Hell explains with a sad expression, "you calling me dad... It reminded me of him, but he was scraped."

"That's rough," I sigh.

"Oh well," the King of Hell rustles my hair and smiles, "at least we have eachother. Reaper's gonna wake up soon, so you better check on him."

"Right. Have a good one dad."

"You too M.S."

We wave goodbye to eachother and go our separate ways. I head for the treatment center, cause according to The Magic Scientist, he may even wake up today...