I grab the phone from Jo's hand just as a child's screech comes through the speaker, tinny and shrill. A tiny, vibrant crimson head dashes across the screen as the camera angle shifts to follow the toddler's running body. Moments later, Jo, with her nearly identical vivid hair, follows the small boy and grabs him from behind resulting in another childlike screech, the boy wild with laughter. I watched as his long locks flop towards the ground, gravity getting the best of them as Jo holds him upside down. Her face boasts the wide smile that I only ever see around her family. I laugh as she narrowly avoids the wildly swinging legs as the child flails against his mother's grasp. The camera shakes with laughter, mirroring my own.

As the video ends, I hand the small device back to Jo. "He has gotten so big! I can hardly believe it. What happened to the tiny shy little thing who refused to be on camera? Where did that little boy go? Though, I'll admit that it is nice to see videos of him."

She grabs the phone from my outstretched hand and slides it back into her vest pocket, zipping it in for safe keeping. "I know what you mean; I can hardly believe I have missed so much." Her face grows solemn, falling back into its perpetual state of controlled blankness. Resting her head back into her hand, she sits cross-legged on the couch, facing me, her elbow propped on the back of the faded floral print couch. "He starts kindergarten in the fall." she adds quietly.

I shake my head at her as she brings her gaze back to mine. "Then why are you here? Why come back early?" I grab her forearm with my left hand, giving a little tug so her head wobbles in her hand. She smiles at me briefly. "Go be with your son and your husband and stop coming back early! Please, otherwise I will drop you off and leave you there. Effectively forcing you to walk back if that's what you want so bad!"

The smile drops from her face as it settles back into its neutral position. "I had to come back early."

"No, you didn't. I am fine without you sometimes, you know. I'm a big girl." She scowls at me and I chuckle but change my statement accordingly, "Fine, I am a smallish, big girl." My face falls, matching hers as I put the jokes aside. "You should have stayed the full time. I don't like thinking I am the reason you are missing baby Collin."

"Aideen, you are my family too. Your brother is in the hospital. I am not going to let you go through that alone." She lifts her head from her left hand, using it to instead grab my mine. I stare at her fingers holding mine, choosing to focus on the security that another's touch brings. "No one deserves to go through that alone. And," She pauses, stressing the word so I that I look back up at her. "Despite the unfathomable amount of words that come out of your mouth in a day, the scary things that go on up there," she gestures to my head, "you will never talk about. So, I have to come here and get you to say it. To deal with it."

I sigh at her words, rolling my eyes halfheartedly. "Besides, since we now know that there is a possibility that Micah was targeted, I don't want to be with my family. It would put them in danger." She shrugs her shoulders as if it isn't a big deal, but I can see her grey eyes hiding the worry that cascaded around inside her; inside all of us. Maybe the two of us were too similar for our own good. Neither of us are willing to talk about our problems. "Coming back early was just the best plan."

The loud grinding of gears saves me from responding. A dozen pairs of eyes snap up to the opening bunker door as Jeremiah steps through. Behind him I see Tucker, his eyes bright in the dimming light, he smiles at me and gives me a thumbs up. I shake my head at him in confusion as he pushes the door shut behind Jeremiah. Whether he saw my questioning eyes, I don't know but regardless, he gives no reply.

Jeremiah surveys the quieted room, crossing his large arms across his chest. "No one leaves the bunker unless given direct permission from me or Henry." He states authoritatively; his voice reverberating off the metal, riveted ceiling. "Seeing as how we don't know whether it was a targeted or random attack against one of our members, we are, until further notice, on lock-down. Starting tomorrow we will be coordinating food and supply runs. As for tonight, we have plenty stocked so no one will go hungry." He pauses, sweeping his gaze across the motionless room once more. "Any questions? No? Good."

He uncrosses his arms and walks over to the couch Jo and I had commandeered. "Good to see you Jo, sorry I missed your arrival." He remarks, holding his hand out to her to shake.

"Glad to be back." She comments, her voice unwavering.

"No, you aren't. But it doesn't change the outcome, so I don't care whether you lie." He drops her hand and focuses on me instead.

"Ready?" He asks. My eyes narrow in confusion.

"Ready for what?"

"To go see Emerson again."

My mouth opens in shock. Questions tumble through my mind as my heart picks up its pace, beating to its own tune in my chest as fear, anticipation, and desire dance around.

"Yeah." I manage to choke out, the word chopped and short, sounding strange even to my ears. As I rise from my place on the couch, I stop. "Wait, I thought we couldn't leave."

"We can't; just don't tell my dad." I didn't like lying to Henry, but then I remembered how he had been lying to me all these years. A lie by omission, but a lie none the less. The doubt over disobeying orders flees as fast as it set in. Grabbing Tucker's black sweatshirt from the couch, I pull it over my head. Lifting my still damp hair out, I let the blond pieces fall against my back and enjoy the weight of it as it swishes freely around me, unrestrained by a braid or bun.

We make our way to the door and I glance back at Jo whose eyes followed me across the room. She nods once reassuringly as we step into the musty, dim tunnels beyond.

Exiting the broken sewer grate, Jeremiah and I slip unnoticed onto the slowly emptying streets. The wind whips between the tall the buildings, the late spring air going cold with the sinking sun. I wrap my arms around myself, drawing the soft fabric closer into me. I look up at Jeremiah as he walks stoic-faced. Clearly he was not bothered by the cold despite wearing just a grey t-shirt.

I wasn't the only one who noticed the well-fitting t-shirt. Judging by the double takes from a variety of women and men as we walked down the Brooklyn streets, there were a lot of people that took notice. Only Jeremiah didn't show any interest; his laser focus was on the sidewalk ahead of us.

"Did Micah wake back up again while you were there?" I ask, breaking the strained silence between us.

Jeremiah answers without adjusting the brisk walking pace he had set. "No, the nurses had knocked him out pretty good."

"Did you see Caney? How is she holding up? Is she coming to stay the night or is she staying at the hospital with Dad?"

At my string of questions, Jeremiah stops walking and turns to look at me. "You really want to talk about this now?"

"Yes. It seems like the only thing I can get you to talk about with any truth." I jab back at him.

He looks at me incredulously. "Fine. She is as good as can be expected. Yes, she is spending the night there. You can see her tomorrow." His gaze shifts past me, falling behind us. "We should keep moving. I don't want to be caught out here after dark."

We continue walking on Jeremiah's predetermined path. I follow a half a stride behind as I struggle to keep up with his long legs and determination to beat the dark. I watch as the city passes us by, changing from primarily industrial to more residential buildings.

"Why are you risking taking me to him?" I ask, unable to contain the question that had been floating in my head since we left the bunker.

I see his step falter at my question. I caught him off guard. He sighs before responding, "I guess I just realized I finally lost."

I stop, grabbing his arm I force him to turn and focus on me. Looking directly at him, I prompt, "What is that supposed to mean?"

He stares at me for a moment, contemplating his response before he shakes me off and shoves his hands in his front pockets. "Never mind." He responds while turning and walking away.

I jog to catch up. "No, not a chance of you getting away with that. You brought it up, now answer." I get ahead of him and plant myself in his path, effectively forcing him to look at me. "What do you mean that you lost?" I ask, holding air quotes around the word 'lost'.

"God, you really have no clue, do you?" Jeremiah takes his hands out of his pockets and runs them across his short, curly hair.

I stare back at him, crossing my arms I make it clear that I don't intend on moving until he spills.

He drops his hands, looking surprisingly defeated. "You really want to know why I never told you about Emerson?"

"Yes. That is literally what I want. It's what I deserve." Jeremiah responds with a disapproving look for which I have no context.

Jeremiah sighs, dropping the look from his face. He shakes his head, "You know, I didn't to guard him in the first place. You think I wanted to repeat three years of high school? You think I wanted to have to look after your sloppy seconds?" I was taken aback by the description, but Jeremiah kept talking, making no note of my surprise. "But when I got there, and he literally welcomed me, a large black man, with open arms into his new life. I thought, just for once, that maybe I could have something that was truly mine. Something that you wouldn't and couldn't take from me."

"Where is this coming from?" I exclaim, interrupting him. "I have never taken anything from you."

"Aideen, you don't-" he pauses, contemplating his word choice. "-can't see it, but you take everything from me."

I scoff at him, unbelieving of his suggestion. "Yeah, right. I don't have that kind of power. Crawl off your high horse please; you are embarrassing yourself."

"No, I won't. Because it's true." He pulls his chest back, straightening to his full height, showing off just how much bigger he was than me. "My whole life is the way it is because of you." He throws his words at me, and I absorb the full force of them, staggering slightly under the weight. He presses on, not letting me catch a breath. "Dad would have never gotten us involved with any of this Qor, Cerberus crap; Mom would be alive; Micah wouldn't be recovering from guns shot wounds and I might be chilling at Comic-Con right now reading about lives straight out of a Sci-Fi novel not living one! Basically, I wouldn't be out here, looking for freaking invisible people while taking you to see your ex-boyfriend."

"Isn't Comic-Con in July?" I ask to which he responds with a glare. "Right, not the important detail."

Jeremiah continues with his rant, ignoring my ill-timed comment, and I try my best not to shrink into myself. "You were the younger sibling that always needed mom and dad's attention. It wasn't Micah, Sarah, or Caney. It was you. For them, you were just a feature in the family. I was the one who remembered what it is like to not have you around." I scrunch my face up at his words. Unease settled in my stomach. Where was he getting this idea from?

"Don't believe me, do you? Well just you wait; I have 20 years' worth of grudges to go over." He holds up a hand, checking off fingers as his lists his grievances. "Dad was never home when I was growing up. So, mom took care of us as a single parent. Why? Because he was off looking after you. He was always looking after you. And every year he spent less and less time at home because he was so busy keeping you away from your dad." A knowing look shoots across his face as I feel concern wash over me at his suggestion that he knows about my dad.

He clearly sees my reaction and answers questions I didn't need to voice. "Yes, I know. No, Dad didn't tell me. You just had that abused child look written all over your face.

"So, yeah I get it. I know I don't have the right to be pissed off, but dammit you took Dad from me." Jeremiah sighs again. "And that isn't even the worst part. I am willing to share my father for the sake of your crappy one.

"You won Mom too, you know that? You won her simply because you are white like she was." He spat, anger now clearly rising in his voice. "Those weekends that you would come and stay with us before you moved in, and we would all go out for ice cream, you could see it written on everyone's face. They assumed that you were her kid that and that I, out of the kindness of her heart, must have been the charity-case, neighbor kid who was just along for the ride. You looked like her, all fair skinned and light haired. I am like dad, dark and scary. You have never had to see how mother's will tuck their children behind them as I walk by. Micah hardly knows what it feels like. Hell, Caney has Mom's green eyes. So, she doesn't even know what it's like." My heart broke as his words settled upon me. He just forced a very real, very accurate privilege check on me.

"Also, you knew Mom. She loved broken things. And you were her biggest broken thing. She just loved putting you back together. Fixed you up like Humpty Dumpty." The resentment in Jeremiah's voice was like fire as it burned its way through me.

"And you want to know what else pisses me off? You are Caney's big sister; she looks up to you, she acts like you, but that should be Sarah's role. Not yours." Right then, Jeremiah crossed a line; I wasn't going to leave that remark unchecked.

"That's not fair and you know it." I shout back at him. Propelled by anger, I find my courage. I take a step closer to him, getting in his face. "Sarah shut Caney out when Mom died. Sarah shut everyone out. I earned the Big Sister title. So, don't you dare try and take that role away from me or her."

"I wasn't done yet." Jeremiah remarks, his voice low and monotone, yet I knew it was barely controlled. A kind of scary calm had overtaken him as I fought back. His eyes bore into mine as he leans down, our faces only inches apart.

"You asked why I never told you about Emerson. Well simply put, he was mine."

"Have you ever considered that he wasn't yours to possess?" I interject, steeling myself against his reaction.

I watched as Jeremiah's body uncoiled. The tension leaving his shoulders in waves like heat dissipating into the cool air. "Don't you think I know that. I have tried to keep him as my own. And whenever you are close enough, I still lose him, because he dreams about you." He admits, sounding defeated. "That's why I am risking it now. Because I would rather share him and be able to keep even a part of him, than lose him entirely."

I felt my shoulders drop, realizing I wanted the same thing. My life was better with Emerson in it. I would take him at any capacity. One question lingered though, why he would dream of me?

"So, we share. Deal?" He nods once in response. "But honestly, what's this dream thing I keep hearing about?"

"We don't know." Jeremiah gestures a hand forward and we start walking again, more slowly now than before. "All we know is that when the two of you are within 200 miles of each other, he goes crazy and can't stop seeing you when he closes his eyes. Dreams, visions, nightmares, all of the above."

"What's going to happen then when we are in the same room?" I ask out of genuine concern.

"I don't know; I have 911 on speed dial, though." He shrugs, letting out a light chuckle.

"Yeah, because that's comforting!" I say through the laughter. I wasn't sure how to react anymore. Laughter just seemed like a good idea.

"Jeremiah?" I stop walking, I could feel the frown taking hold of my face. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Jeremiah sighs. "I know." With a single look, all is forgiven, and we continue our journey in silence as the sky darkens, fading into grey.

Jeremiah stops in front of a tan brick building, indistinguishable from its neighbors. "He lives here."

I break from his side, moving to grab the door handle when I notice that Jeremiah hesitates. His face seeped in apprehension as he stares at the building.

"What is this the wrong building or something?" I question, dropping the door handle and turning back to him.

"No, it's right." He responds, his voice clouded with uncertainty.

Understanding sets in my mind as I realize his hesitation; for us to share Emerson, would mean that Emerson would also have to get through Jeremiah's past knowledge about the both of us. "I can go in alone, just tell me the apartment number." I push as he remains unresponsive. I take a step back to Jeremiah, forcing his gaze back on me. "He doesn't have to know you were involved. I can make something up." I offer.

"No, Aideen. I dug my hole, and I will lay in it." He moves to step closer to the door, but I block him by putting a hand on his chest.

"Jeremiah, he loves you right?" I watch as abject horror appears on his face. "In a friend way, gosh!" I amend, shaking my head. "Careful, or people might think you are homophobic." I chuckle, hitting him brotherly on the arm. He rolls his eyes at me but nods anyway.

"Well, take it from someone who knows, he might hate you more, but he won't love you less." I comment, remembering the night that Emerson told me that same thing all those years ago. They proved true then, hopefully they proved themselves again. "Consider it his character flaw; that boy loves without abandon. Right?"

Jeremiah nods his head and replaces the goofy grin that had appeared there with his usual tough-guy face. "Stop it now; you are making me all sappy." He pushes his way around me and grabs the door handle, holding it out for me. We both enter the building, not stopping to buzz in. Confusion crosses my face as Jeremiah grabs the second door, which is meant to be locked, and opens it as well. "The lock hasn't worked since he moved in. Everyone knows just to walk straight in." I walk through the door skeptically. "Cheap rent in Brooklyn, you don't get to be picky."

Up three flights of stairs and down the hall to the left we reach apartment 3F. Jeremiah knocks as I stand behind him, allowing myself to be half hidden by his imposing form.

The lock clicks from the other side and chain slides and drops as the door opens quickly.

"Jeremiah!" I hear a woman's voice call out.

"Hey, we are here to see Carson. He home?" Jeremiah responds casually. Clearly, he didn't hear the panic in the woman's voice. I step out from behind him to get a better look at the woman who answered the door. Long brown hair frames a soft, heart shaped face. While she was average height and build, she was anything but average. Grace and poise flowed off her in spite of the terror behind the composed set of her face.

"He didn't tell you?" She implores. Her hand still rests on the door, holding it open. Though, it looked more like it was holding her up. Her voice cracks as she continues speaking. "I haven't seen him in four days." A single tear drips down her cheek. Jeremiah's shoulders tighten.

"Four days! Why didn't you call me?" He asks, his voice demanding as he pushes his way into the apartment. I follow him in and close the door behind the three of us. Jeremiah moves into the apartment, leading the woman to a couch on the far side of the room. I slide the lock back into place.

Walking towards the living room, I stop in the doorway and lean against it. Jeremiah crouches down by the woman seated on the couch; whispers too faint for me to hear emanate from where they were.

He notices my presence and stands back up, her eyes follow him as he rises. "I suppose some introductions are in order before we figure this out." He catches her eye, "Jenna, this is Aideen, a childhood friend of Carson. Aideen," he looks to me, an apology held on his face. "This is Jenna. Carson's fiancé."