"Well get comfy and listen up, cause it's story time and we have about a decade to cover." Jeremiah begins, "Some ground rules before I tell you what I know. A) You let me tell the full story. Aideen, you aren't going to like it so get over the shock now. B) Tucker, if my Dad asks, you know nothing. I can play off Aideen finding out. But you, I don't want to touch that with a 10-foot pole. Okay? This is considered classified. By all definitions, you shouldn't know, but Aideen would rip my head off if I kicked you out.  And C)," Jeremiah paused, looking confused. "I don't actually have a rule C."

"Wait," I interrupt Jeremiah, "Was it really a decade?" I could feel my heart sink into my stomach, taking up residence with the betrayal that had settled there overnight.

Jeremiah looks at me with pity in his eyes, a look he doesn't hand out often. Jeremiah generally has very little pity to give. "Yeah, I have known him for as long as you have. You had the first 10 years; I had the second. I said you wouldn't like it." He says as he shrugs his shoulders.

The chill of the concrete wall seeps through Tucker's sweatshirt and into my shoulders as my back finds the wall for support. I could feel the cold radiating through my chest as I slide down the wall and bring my knees into my chest. Leaning my head against the hard surface, I stifle the shock and instead let the determination that had wormed its way in show on my face. The same determination that I felt when I decided knocking Jeremiah out in the first place was a good idea. I remind myself that this was exactly what I wanted. I was sick of being left in the dark. I was sick of pretending my childhood didn't exist. Even if I found no comfort in what Jeremiah was about to say, I could at least take heart in the fact that Emerson was alive and out there somewhere. He was the family I could look out for right now and Jeremiah knew all I needed to know.

Moving across the space, Tucker matches my position and sits next to me, taking my hand in his. Once again acting as my emotional security blanket. Jeremiah rotates on his chair to face us. I nod at him when he looks at me for confirmation that we are ready.

"When you moved in when were 15, after Emerson and his family went into hiding, Dad had conscripted me to help keep an eye on him without you knowing. We weren't sure yet why you were implemented with his family in the first place. Dad needed help in the form of keeping track of Emerson and keeping you from knowing what we were doing."

Jeremiah raises a finger toward me, cutting off my protests before I could voice them. "And I know what you are thinking, you are right one of us could have told you." I scoff at his implication, rebelling at his uncanny understanding of my feelings. "But before you get all pissed off at me and him, we both agreed you had enough going on. With your dad being as messed up as he apparently was, to literally losing your childhood, and let's not forget that you were going through the phase where you lost control of the perception thing. You would still walk around the house half invisible because you couldn't shut it all off."

"Fine, I can justify why you didn't tell me then." I cut him off, stopping Jeremiah's recap of my mental instability. "Honestly, I was messed up. There is no need to go into detail and dredge up all those horrendous facts. But why not tell me before now?" I ask him, my voice dropping to the level of begging.

"Do you want me to finish the story or not?" Jeremiah interjects, leaving my question unanswered. I settle back against the wall again, silencing the string of protests that flashes through my brain.

"When Dad came to me, he told me the story." Jeremiah starts again. "He said you had been posing as Emerson's imaginary friend for 10 years, using that imperceptible thing so only Emerson could interact with you. Thus, keeping up the ruse. But that him and his family went into hiding, so you left too. Leaving your dad and your life behind.

"Since we were trying to keep an eye on him, we had begun tracking him and his family's movements via facial recognition software. We were locked in on them as they moved cross country for two weeks, but then they just stopped showing up on the program. We couldn't find them; we honestly thought we were too late. We thought they had been killed by Cerberus like everyone else who is on their radar."

Jeremiah continues, not making eye contact with me, instead keeping his gaze own his hands folded in his lap. "For a month we had nothing, to a point where we were ready to stop looking. But suddenly, Emerson popped back up under a new name in Webster City, Iowa. Finding him was a relief to say the least. Dad was practically dancing with joy. We know he doesn't do that. But Aideen," He pauses, the kind of pause that only occurs before you deliver bad news. The kind of pause that gauges what the listener's reaction might be. "we found in the foster system." He stopped letting what he was implying sink in.

"Annie?" I ask. Annie was Emerson's mother, and she was possibly the sweetest woman to ever walk the Earth. Jeremiah shook his head dismayed.

"I figured out later, that time they had been captured they were held somewhere in Georgia. They had let him go, Aideen, but his parents didn't make it out. He still won't talk about it to this day, so I don't really know a whole lot of what happened there. Only that it was bad." Concern showed through Jeremiah's voice which was thick with emotion matching my feelings. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, but I swallowed it down. We were all too familiar with what happened to people who were taken into Cerberus custody. I fix my gaze on the bare bulb above us, mentally fighting against the hurt.

Annie was everything to Emerson; with his dad always out traveling for work, the two of them were close. Impressively close, considering that he had to justify my existence mentally while she could never acknowledge my place in their life. I still don't know how he did it. Balancing reality with my nonexistent existence. I look at Jeremiah when I am ready to continue, when the tears threatening to fall down my cheeks subside.

Jeremiah continued telling his story on my cue. "At that point, Dad decided it would be best if someone physically looked after him. We still weren't sure why he was on Cerberus's radar, or worse, why they let him go. So, I headed to Iowa and posed as a sixteen-year-old, going to school with him. We were friends there. Still are good friends, actually." He amends as his voice fades out, getting sidetracked by his own thoughts.

"You repeated the last two of years of high school?" I ask callously, interrupting his thoughts.

"Three actually." He looks back to me. "He was a sophomore, so I was a sophomore with him." He sits back in his chair suddenly and exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, "And somehow he still got better grades than me! I repeated three fricking grades to be with him, and I still sucked at school! What the actual hell? I don't understand!"

I chuckle under my breath at the memory of how much Emerson liked school. He would get so mad at me when I would interrupt him throughout the day; sometimes I would intentionally pester him, reading over his shoulder or correcting his work. He would always yell me to stop backseat driving whenever I did that. I didn't follow him to school every day, but most of them I would. Honestly, going to school with him was the most formal education ever I got. Everything else Henry taught me while he was driving me around to follow Emerson.

"We lived together after high school for a while; about two years." Jeremiah continues, this time interrupting my thoughts. "But, you know, things change, and we went our separate ways. There wasn't any real threat to him for those five years, and I couldn't keep coming up with ways to stay with him. Besides, he had figured out how to hide his identity and therefore, hide from Cerberus by that point. Typically, I would pop back and forth, from where Dad needed me to where he was.

"It just became a thing; every time I left then he would leave too. Find somewhere new with a new name, new life. After about a month of being whoever he chose, he would contact me with a secure line, and I would make my way to him again once I wasn't needed here. Every couple of months for three years he did that. Until he came to Brooklyn and put his foot down. He said he was done with the moving around; that he had had enough of it. Though, I am betting there were other reasons he stayed here." He says the last line mostly to himself before looking up and catching Tucker and me looking at him. I search his face for clues as he adds quickly, "He doesn't like big cities, but they are easier to hide in." He pauses and looks at me for a reaction. Almost as if he is waiting to see if I picked up on something that he had said accidentally. He continues on quickly as I don't respond. "He has been here for just about two years; I have been with him since he called me out about five months ago."

Tucker, who had stayed silent by my side piped in, "So, the message you got yesterday, on the secondary phone, is that the line you use with him?" I look to Tucker, my eyes widening with understanding.

"Yeah, that's my number for him only." He remarks, eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why?" he asks.

Tucker looks back to me with disapproval in his eyes as I put the pieces together. The message I replied to this morning must have been to Emerson.

"Dang, I might have texted him this morning then from that phone." I scrunch my face up, anticipating Jeremiah's reaction as he dug in his pocket for the small black device. "It dinged while you were still dead to the world, and so I check it... and responded. I'm sorry, please don't hurt me!" I say, cringing away from him in only partially mock fear. I honestly didn't know how Jeremiah would react to something like this.

Jeremiah unlocks the phone and scrolls to the new message. When he sees my response, his shoulders shrug with a small chuckle. "You know that isn't the most cryptic message I have ever sent him." His chuckle turns into a full laugh. "He is probably just going to think I picked someone up on the way home and they responded for me. Great," he exclaims as he puts his thoughts together and slides the phone back into his pants pocket. "now he is going to think I was all tied up, which I was. But not in the way I would have wanted to be. And not in the way he is going to think!" Jeremiah shoots a wink in my direction.

"Ew, gross!" I remark at his suggestion before joining in his laughter. I could feel Tucker shaking with laughter next to me, muttering something about a Jeremiah being a dirty dog underneath his breath.

The laughter quickly dies as we remember why we are sitting in a dank sewer tunnel in the first place. "Aideen, I am sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but you know how it is. We might as well be under a gag order when it comes to sharing classified information." Jeremiah says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

I feel a sting of betrayal rear its ugly head again in my chest. I am reminded then of how Tucker realigned my priorities earlier. "No." I respond. Jeremiah's eyes widen in shock. Not many people say no to him around here aside from Henry, his dad. "No," I repeat, more confident this time.

"We are family around here. We don't hide things from family. Gag order or not. He's my family; It was my right to know. Besides, we all know the dangers of not having all the information." I throw the comment at Jeremiah as a slam, his eyes narrowing in response. I haven't forgotten the failed mission last year due to Jeremiah's withholding of information. Jo was in the hospital for a week because of it. I wasn't ready to let him live that down just yet. Tucker's hand tightens around mine, bolstering me with confidence.

Jeremiah looks to Tucker for support only to be met with an unyielding gaze from him. Jeremiah stands suddenly livid. "God, man. Don't you see it? She has you wrapped so tight around your little pinky finger. How? She won't even sleep with you!"

Tucker leaps to his feet in response. Throwing Jeremiah against the adjacent wall, he holds him in place with his left forearm, his right arm taut behind his head, fingers curled tight into a fist, ready to flash forward and connect with Jeremiah's already crooked nose. Anger radiated off them like the cold of the concert walls, turning the once cool space into a furnace on the brink of explosion. The two were equal in size; their eyes level and burning into one another. Juxtapositions of each other in every way; Tucker with his bright white hair and blue eyes, the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and Jeremiah with his dark complexion and darker eyes, hiding his intentions in an unreachable place. But in that moment, they looked identical. The rapid turn of emotion in the small space gives me emotional whiplash as I scramble to my feet. Darting forward I grab Tuckers drawn back elbow, hoping to decompress the tension in his muscles before he punches Jeremiah.

"STOP IT!" I cry out. Jeremiah sneers at me, his gazing shifting over Tucker's raised fist and falling on me. "Knock it off!" I continue more calmly as I pull Tucker's arm down, ignoring the glare Jeremiah gives me. It is almost like he wanted Tucker to do it; but we both knew if he hadn't followed through yet he wasn't going too. Tucker lets his right arm drops, letting his hand fall into mine. After thrusting Jeremiah into the concrete tunnel with his forearm once more for good measure, he lets him go.

The sound of running feet coming towards us cuts through the silence that had descended. We all turn our heads toward the main tunnel, looking expectantly. Josh, one of the teenagers, rounds the corner panting.

Tucker takes a half toward him; Josh is like a younger brother to Tucker. "What's up man? Where's the fire?" He asks metaphorically.

"Micah," Jeremiah shifts his weight, now visually attentive at the sound of his brother's name. "Need Jeremiah; Micah hurt." Josh spits out as he sucks in air.

"Where?" Jeremiah asks, stepping purposefully towards Josh, he puts one hand on his shoulder he steers him back down the main tunnel in the direction of the vault. Tucker and I stand hand in hand listening to their feet pounding in retreat.

A quick glance back at Tucker reveals a face full of concealed emotions. Whispering an apology, I pull my hand out of his grasp. His fingers cling to me, unwilling to let me go as I run after Jeremiah and Josh without looking back again.