Eugene watches the greens of the evergreen trees skip by him as the train speeds forward. He sits alone, listening to distant murmurs of travelers and the soft squeal of machinery as he holds his satchel close to his stomach. He never carried much— to do so would be a liability— but there are some things he must always hang onto; his most precious things.

He flips the satchel's front flap back and fishes through the clutter to grab an envelope. He sets the bag at his feet as he rubs the coarse paper between his fingertips. Through it, he could feel the outline of the polaroids stacked on top of one another.

He freezes for a moment. He doesn't know how long it's been since he last looked through these photos.

He dumps them all onto his lap before he can slip the envelope back into his satchel and return to pretending it doesn't exist.

The sight of his four sweet, beautiful children makes his eyes sting. The first photo that tops the stack shows them all nestled together in the bed of an inn. It was cold that day, so they were huddled up in the bedsheets and snuggled close together. Their faces were tranquil and untroubled, as if nothing in the world could dare touch them. Eugene still remembers how soft their breaths were.

He goes through the photos one by one, each coming and going with a memory. One shows Alister proudly holding up his favorite stuffed horse— Al used to really love that thing. Another shows Bari coated in a thin layer of mud and dirt, flaunting the long worm that dangled from his pinched fingers. The one after showed Robin toying with the hem of her sleeve as her brother braided her hair. The next shows the four together, dancing on a beach with their feet inches from the shoreline.

So many happy memories speeding by at a velocity the train could only dream of. Eugene blinks, and he's at the very end of the stack— the last remaining photo finally sends the tears to prick at the corner of his eyes. The background of the photo is gorgeous: a boundless field of sunflowers reaching for the bright blue sky. The boy who stands in the center frame holds a plucked flower in his hands. His smile is mild yet sweet, as the boy's smiles often were.

The inherent reserved nature of his warm smile didn't make it any less bright. It shined as brightly as the boy's green eyes, matching the flower's stem in color. That shine was untouchable.

This had always been Eugene's favorite photo of Flint. He can't stand to look at it for more than a few seconds, lest he finds himself engulfed in the cocktail of guilt and grief all over again.

He turns the photo upside down to hide the child's face from view.

He misses each of his children dearly, every single day. But the untimely end of his eldest especially haunts him— he's lost count of the nights he has spent wide awake, wondering if those two street children would have been better off if they never crossed his path. Perhaps in that universe, Flint would be alive, and Robin would have never lost her brother. Perhaps if he had done something differently—

Eugene has so many regrets. He regrets having been so hard on Flint. He regrets letting Flint storm away to his demise. He regrets letting the depression swallow him whole. He regrets not being there for Bari and Robin when they needed him. He regrets being so stubborn in his thinking. He regrets sending Bari out on his own. He regrets— the list truly is unending, and it's equally useless. He can't change his past.

But right now, he's sitting on a train, watching the green of the evergreen trees zip past. The train is taking him to Votno, where two of his dear children await him.

He can't change his past, so what can he do?

* * *

The sky darkens as midnight steadily approaches. Robin, with her duffle bag tucked beneath her arm, knocks on the motel room door. Bari's voice calls out to answer.

    "Who is it?"

    "The police," Robin chirps.

    "Cool, it's open."

    Robin pushes the door open to find Bari sprawled across one of the two beds, dressed in fuzzy pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He peers up from the digital camera his hands fidget with.

    "And here I thought you had a curfew, officer."

    "I do. Sara helped me sneak out." Robin plops herself down on the edge of Bari's bed. "Oh, um, hope you don't mind me sleeping over. That, or I'm going to have to break into my own dorm room."

    "I won't make you do that." Bari sits up with a grin. "But I'm sure you're more than capable of it. Or have you gotten rusty over the years?"

    "Hm. I'm not sure. I'd have to try it out and see."

Robin jumps as she feels a sudden weight on her lap. A pair of giant, unblinking blue eyes stare up at her. The fluffy creature's tiny maw opens to let out the world's softest "mew."

"Hi, little kitten." Robin brushes her thumb over the cat's head. "What's her name again?"

"Lulu." Bari pokes at the cat's tail, causing it to swish in retaliation. "Flint named her. I actually promised to get him a cat, then I came across this little one and, well. The rest is history, I guess."

"Lulu. What a cute name." Robin scritches the cat's cheek. Lulu leans into it. "...Where is Flint?"

"Shower." Bari returns his attention to the camera. "The water just turned off so he'll probably be out any minute."

"I see..."

Robin leans toward Bari to catch a glimpse of the camera's screen. Bari scrolls through the photos with the repeated press of a button— most of the photos he bolts through are of a gigantic monster of a dog.

A passive smile sneaks across Bari's face as he glances at the curious Robin. "Before we came to Wodic, we visited a friend of mine and stayed with her for a while. The same one I told you about— you know, the one who helped us find your school?" He waits for Robin to nod, then continues. "She gave us her old camera as a gift. Seems she didn't clear it out first, though."

Robin lays her head on Bari's shoulder. "How nice of her. Though she probably should have emptied it out."

"Yeah, but I'm kind of glad she didn't. That means all the photos she took during our visit are still in here, too. Let me see if I can find my favorite... ... ... Ahah! Here it is!"

Bari shows Robin a selfie taken by a dark-haired, plump girl she does not recognize. Behind her stands Bari and Flint; Bari's smile is all teeth as he makes peace signs with both his hands, while Flint stares blankly into the lens without a hint of an expression to be found.

    "You look happy..." Robin murmurs.

    Bari pauses before letting out a short chuckle. He turns the camera off and places it on the nightstand. "Heh... yeah, it was a fun time."

    "... I don't know if I've mentioned it enough," Robin says as she wraps her hands around Bari's arm and gives it a quick squeeze, "but I'm very happy to see you."

    "I'm happy to see too, short stack."

Bari laughs as Robin lifts her head and squints at him.

"You're still mean."

"It's part of my appeal. That, and my dashing good looks that's got all the ladies swooning and dropping head over heels." 

"Hm... I don't know." Robin tilts her head with an innocent look. "I haven't seen many swooning women around."

"Who's the mean one now?"

Bari snorts as Robin giggles, and for a moment she wonders if this can become her normalcy: bickering about the small and the benign before sharing careless laughter. There's no reason it can't become her normalcy, right? It's in her grasp. Both Bari and her brother are here—

Her brother...

"Robin?" Bari calls. He must have noticed the sudden shudder sent down her back. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"...There's something that I need to ask you about, Bari. But I'm afraid to."

Robin folds her arms. She can feel the weight of Bari's gaze as he studies her— not that there's much to decipher. She hasn't been the type to wear her heart on her sleeve for a long time, but now? She can't help it.

"...You want to ask about Flint, right?" Bari asks. "About what happened to him?"

"Yes. I'm afraid to know, but... I can't leave it to my imagination. It's killing me."

Bari hangs his head, his lower lip drawn beneath his teeth.

"That name you mentioned," Robin continues. "When I went to ask Flint about it, he said he was dead. So it didn't matter."

Robin observes as Bari's shoulders twitch. She presses on, regardless.

"But Flint's still hurting. Was... that person you mentioned... the one responsible for my brother's pain? Y-you implied he was his toy—"

"Robin." The pain on Bari's face is unmistakable. His mouth is stretched wide and his lips are pressed together. His eyes are unusually misty; it appears, at a second's notice, that he can burst into tears. "I-I should have never mentioned that name... I don't know what I was thinking..."

"But you did. So don't leave me in the dark. Please, answer me..."

Bari opens his mouth to respond—

They both hear the sound of shattering glass.

Bari's at the bathroom door in seconds, knocking and calling Flint's name. He presses his ear against the door before twisting the knob— the door isn't locked. The door is thrown open as Robin catches up with Bari.

They witness the same odd scene. The mirror above the sink is shattered from its center outward, several shards threatening to drop to the floor. Flint's on his knees, wearing only sweatpants and socks. His torso is bare, but he keeps his arms tightly wound around his stomach to conceal it from view. He keeps his head down as he takes slow, jagged breaths.

    Bari kneels beside Flint immediately, but Robin is left staring and gawking. She can't help but notice how thin Flint is— she can see the outline of his ribcage and even his spine as he hunches over. It doesn't make sense to her. As children, as a direct consequence of their impoverished background, they both had a habit of hoarding food. But now, he looks like he hardly eats at all.

    And the scars. She has no choice but to notice the scars that shroud his body. They're all over— it's just as bad as his face—

Bari reaches for Flint's hand, and Robin finally sees the blood on Flint's knuckle. It's apparent what happened: Flint punched the mirror with his fist. Despite the multiple scratches on his hand, Flint recoils, taking great care to keep his stomach concealed.

"You can't..." he mutters. "You can't see it..."

"Can't see what?" Bari shakes his head, maintaining a low, non-threatening tone. "Flint... you are bleeding. We gotta clean and patch that up."

"Don't care..." Flint faces away from Bari, his body beginning to shake. "You can't see what I am..."

"What? That doesn't—"

"Go away..."

"No, I'm not going anywhere. Just take a deep breath—"

"Go away..."

"Flint, take a deep breath and—"

"Go away...!"

"Fl—"

"Go away!"

"Listen to me—!"

"Go away! Go away! Go away!"

Flint keeps his back— his back that's coated in even more scars that are long, raised and red— turned as Bari's patience slowly but surely wanes. Their screaming voices tried to eclipse each other, blurring together into chaotic noise that overwhelmed Robin's senses. Bari reaches for Flint's arm, and as his fingers brush against his skin—

"Don't touch me!"

Flint forgets to keep his stomach hidden and lifts his arms.

He pushes Bari back, and time itself comes to an absolute, complete halt. The silence is much more deafening than chaos.

Robin first watches Bari's expression change. Panic, concern, impatience— it all drains from his face alongside his complexion. Left behind is— Robin can't tell. His jaw is hanging open; his eyes are wide to a point where the whites stand out. Not a word slips through his mouth.

"B-Bari...?" Flint struggles to speak. "I-I... I never wanted...never wanted..."

Robin's eyes dart to Flint. He blinks away tears as his trembling hands hover over his stomach, no longer trying to hide the—

Robin throws her hands over her mouth and stifles a gasp and a shriek. She understands the look of horror on Bari's face— there's nothing else that expression can be but horror. She sees what he sees: deep, dark burn scars stretched across his stomach that formed letters, spelling out...

P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R

Prisoner.

"I never wanted... I never wanted you to see this."

Flint's voice is unsteady and hoarse as his eye bores into Bari, searching. Bari says absolutely nothing, continuing to gawk as his face grows paler and paler by the moment.

"...It's not fair, you know," Flint says, prompted by the silence. "I got my revenge for this... for everything he did to me. For the scars, for taking my eye, for this ... everything. I killed him. I murdered him with my own hands, but it didn't do me any good. He's dead, but he's still there to remind me... to remind me that I'm—"

Bari stands and runs.

He pushes past Robin, rushes down the entryway and through the front door. It slams shut behind him with a hollow echo.

Robin's alone now, looking down at her brother. And her brother looks up at her, notices her, as tears slide down his cheek.

"Robin...?" His eye twitches as it loses focus. Convulsions overwhelm his body. "No... no... I didn't want this to happen...I didn't want you to... to...to know..."

He falls onto his side, wrapping his arms across his chest and tucking his knees into his stomach. His long hair drapes over his body like a tablecloth as he turns his face toward the floor.

    "I didn't want any of this... I never asked for any of this..."

    The boy sobs as Robin stands frozen. The heat of her tears fills her face with uncomfortable warmth. Her brother just admitted to killing someone. Right in front of her, he just said that he murdered someone. The someone who... scarred him. Took his eye. Wrote... that across his stomach.

    That someone... and that name Bari claimed he should have never mentioned... they're one and the same, aren't they? That someone... turned her brother into this person in front of her. This scarred, shaking person curled up on the floor, crying.

    All the realizations are imminent, but emotion is distant. She doesn't know what she's feeling. She doesn't know what to think. It's all so much to grasp; the dissonance in itself is overwhelming.

    "Now you're going to hate me..." Flint murmurs between choked breaths. "'Cuz I'm a murderer..."

    Those words are all it takes. Robin springs forward, collapsing onto her knees as she tries to place her hand on his shoulder. He screams, his legs unwittingly flailing as he pushes himself back. He peers up at her from behind his raised arms, wholly vulnerable.

    She places her hands on her lap, trying to make eye contact and keep her gaze from drifting to those letters on his stomach. She tries not to think about how fragile her brother looks, how defenseless he is, how hurt he is—

    Instead, she speaks.

    She doesn't know what she's feeling, but she knows one hard truth.

    "I could never hate you."

    Flint blinks, eye focusing on her. He whispers through his clenched, chattering teeth: "But—"

    "I could never hate you, Flint. I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I could never hate you. I could never hate you. I could never hate you."

    Despite all the stress she feels hovering above her, ready to collapse onto her back and break her spine at a moment's notice, she maintains a steady, composed tone. Flint reaches out for her, and she extends her hand for him to take.

    "I could never hate you. I could never hate you. I could never—"

    When Flint grabs her hand, he pulls himself up before throwing himself into her arms. He wraps his arms around her, clenching the back of her blouse with all the strength he can muster. Robin feels the fabric growing damp; it must be from the blood leaking from the cuts on his hand.

    As he screams into her chest, tears and snot running down his face, Robin can only hold him as she runs a hand through his hair. Beneath her grip, she feels his trembling. So vulnerable, fragile... small, scarred, broken.

Robin has long resolved to be strong and self-reliant. However, she'd never imagined the day would come when another would need to rely on her. She didn't know if she was capable of serving that role...

If she could gather an ounce of strength she has strived for over the years for that purpose, she'd give anything.

"You'll be okay, Flint... it's all going to be okay..."

*  *  *

    "Get it together... get it together..."

    Bari wants to throw up again, but he won't heave. So he just kneels in the middle of a motel parking lot, caught between hopeless sorrow and seething hatred.

    He shouldn't be acting this way. He shouldn't have lost his cool. He shouldn't have left Flint behind in such a vulnerable state, nor should he have left Robin behind to pick up the pieces. He's already seen so many horrors. He's seen the extent of Risha's cruelty...

    Risha...

    His death was too quick. Too easy. He should have been beaten and burned, cussed and spat at, had each inch of his body sliced and skewered. His eyes should've been torn from his skull as deliberately slowly as possible. Every single bone in his body should've been shattered into a million little pieces—

    Bari veers forward as more vomit spews from his mouth.

    He can't believe what he'd just seen. The sheer principle of it is... it's horrifying. Cruel. Callous. Dehumanizing.

And the process of having that word burned into his skin... was no doubt extremely painful. Risha would make certain of that.

Bari can see it in his mind's eye. His friend— his dear, precious, poor, poor friend— strapped down, screaming, crying as a monster's hand singes his skin—

Bari heaves, but there's nothing left in his stomach to wretch out. His throat burns, like his eyes...

...No one's here. Why is he holding back?

That question crosses his mind, and he realizes he can let go. Everything unfurls and goes loose all at once.

And he cries.

He cries, and cries, and cries until his throat goes dry and his voice becomes nothing but a whisper. He cries until he can no longer summon more tears to shed and he's left only with whimpers and sniffles. He cries until he doesn't know how long it's been since he ran from that room.

    He cries until a hand graces his back. He flinches before meeting Robin's bright, blue eyes. Dried tears stain her rosy cheeks.

    Bari frantically wipes his eyes and mouth. "Robin... is... is Flint...?"

He doesn't finish the question. He doesn't even know what words he planned to use, but Robin seems to understand: 

"He exhausted himself crying and fell asleep. Can you..." Robin hesitates, biting her lip as she stares at Bari's no-doubt pathetic face. "Can you help me get him into bed? I don't want to leave him on the floor."

Bari nods. He steadily picks himself up and, alongside Robin, heads back into the motel room.

When Bari re-enters the bathroom, Flint's curled up on the floor, utterly unconscious. A scrunched-up towel is placed beneath his head to act as a pillow, and his wounded hand is firmly wrapped in bandages. His expression is relaxed and at ease...

That fact is almost enough to distract from that cursed mark on his stomach. Almost.

Bari focuses on the task at hand and scoops Flint into his arms with ease. He carries him towards the nearest bed while Robin pulls the sheets back. He carefully lays him down on the mattress as Flint instinctually nuzzles into the pillow. Robin tugs the blanket up to his neck.

And just like that, Flint's tucked into bed and peacefully sleeping his evening away.

    "Sit," Robin says. She grabs Bari's arm and guides him to the adjacent bed, pushing his shoulders to make him sit on the edge. "You need water."

    Before Bari can think to answer, Robin vanishes back into the bathroom. She re-emerges holding a cup of water that she unceremoniously shoves into Bari's hands. He stares at the water's surface— he doubts he'd be able to hold even this down.

    "Drink, Bari." Robin seats herself beside him. "You're going to get dehydrated."

    Bari brings the cup to his lips and takes a small sip before setting it aside on the nightstand. That appears to be enough for Robin, or at the very least she understands that it's the best she's going to get. She exhales as she quietly folds her hands over her lap.

    "...You didn't know," she says. "About the... about those..."

    "No, I didn't," Bari answers. "He clearly didn't want me to know."

    "...Why?"

Bari watches her from his peripheral vision. "I wouldn't know. I imagine it's not exactly something he's excited to share with people—"

"No, Bari. That's not what I'm asking." Robin shuts her eyes as her fingers move to clutch her skirt. "Why is it there? Why did this happen? Who would do this?"

"A hell spawn of a person. If you could even call that bastard a person."

That innate need to protect Robin from specifics— the barbarity he witnessed firsthand— dissipates in a snap. He crosses his arms as his body jerks forward.

"You really want to know, Robin? You want to know?" Bari doesn't wait for her answer— doesn't give her a chance to answer. "How about this? When I first ran into Flint in that city, he had two eyes. Next thing I see him, he's got a bloody empty socket! A-and Risha, that fucking demon, twirling that damned knife, covered in his blood, smiling and snickering about it all!

Bari blinks, and tears fall to the carpet below. Funny, he thought he already cried away all his tears.

"You should've seen it, Robin! The way he treated him! The way Flint would completely break down in fear! A-and Flint got mad at me for defending him from Risha! H-he said I should've just let Risha hit him! Flint just— Flint just accepted the shitty treatment! You could just tell how they tore apart his self-worth! How badly they all fucked up his mind!"

Bari feels his body beginning to tremor. He bites back a wail.

"The joy Risha took in it— that was the worst of it all! B-but everyone else was horrible, too! T-they called him his pet! They called Flint Risha's pet! They all just leaned back and laughed as if Flint deserved it for trying to escape, but who wouldn't try to escape from the hell they put him through?! They didn't even treat him like a person! None of them did! They just saw him as this thing to kick and scoff at!"

Bari lowers his face into his palms as he fights against the overwhelming urge to destroy everything in his vicinity.

"It messed him up so badly, and I can't fix it! I don't know what I can do! It was just... so awful, Robin! It hurts so much! It hurts so much—!"

A pair of arms wrap around him. Suddenly, he finds his face pressed into Robin's shoulder. One of her hands combs through his hair while the other rubs circles on his back.

"...Thank you," she says.

"W-what...?"

"Thank you," she repeats, her voice soft as it wavers. "You saved him from that place. You took care of him and brought him back to me. Thank you..."

She leans her head against his, keeping him close in a firm embrace.

"But you're hurt, too... so cry as much as you need to, Bari. Scream all you need; stop trying to hold it back. I'm going to be here for both of you. I'll be strong for you. I promise."

Bari can't help but marvel. Robin has really grown up since he last saw her...

He's still going to need to pull himself together. He's going to need to explain Risha's death to Robin. He's going to need to be there for Flint when he wakes up.

But for now... he shuts his wary eyes, and cries and screams as much as he needs to.

*  *  *

Flint dreams of soapy rags and concrete floors.

As far as memories go, he'll take this one. Sure, he's scrubbing up somebody's blood, but at least it's not his. There's a peaceful rhythm to it all. Scrub at the dark red with vigor, move quickly about and don't slack, get the solitary cell clean promptly; sure, it's annoying to do alone with the weight of shackles on his wrists and ankles, but there are worse things. As long as he follows Risha's rules— don't look up and keep your head down, don't make a sound unless spoken to, follow every order with urgency— he'll go to bed tonight without any pain.

The dream's almost peaceful, but he can hear Risha's voice. He's talking with someone— Mal, probably— and bragging about how he's "broken" the unruly boy. The two men laugh about it as if Flint isn't there, listening. They laugh at his obedience, laugh at his utter defeat as he keeps scrubbing away at the dried blood. Flint knows he shouldn't take this— he knows a few years ago, he wouldn't. He wouldn't keep up the chore; he'd throw the rag to the ground, stand up, and snap at them. He wouldn't let them turn him into an accessory.

That person he was... Flint envied them. And pitied them.

That person believed he had a leg to stand on. That person had such a strong sense of "self" despite everything.

But Risha's will had long overpowered that person. Now, left behind is an eternal prisoner with their label etched across their stomach.

* * *

Flint wakes up to a pounding headache and two vibrant voices.

For a moment, in the haziness, he thinks he's hearing guards. Not unusual— perhaps he was being punished for something and they accidentally knocked him unconscious. But he's not in pain, and he hasn't felt the slap to consciousness via smelling salts, so that can't be it—

He blinks a few times and realizes he's laying in a bed that's much too soft to be of that prison. His mind speeds up to catch up to reality.

"And then Ky got her arm stuck in the vending machine. Literally, we were standing there like idiots for twenty minutes."

"Reminds me of the time Sara got her credit card stuck in a vending machine. She put it in the slot you're supposed to insert bills into. I had to yank it out for her."

That's right; he's safe. He's with his brother and his sister. There's nothing to be afraid of.

And yet, there's still this sinking dread Flint can't shake.

It hits him all at once. How, last night, against his better judgment, he stood in front of the mirror. How the sickening memories swarmed his head; how he remembered the way he would be held in front of a mirror, forced to stare at those letters. How he could still hear Risha's voice whispering into his ear: "I engraved this into your skin for a reason. Dimwitted and pigheaded as you are, you will learn. Now tell me, what are you?"

Then there was anger— anger that once felt so alien but has become so commonplace during these last couple of months. Glass shattered, then he was on the floor, then Bari rushed in, and his sister was standing there—

His hands graze his stomach— he's shirtless. That meant it was all real, not some wild nightmare.

Flint throws the sheets over his head and curls up into a little ball. Perhaps he'll just stay this way forever, never interrupting Bari's and Robin's light-hearted conversations.

"Mew..."

Lulu starts pawing at his face from the other side of the blanket as if trying to pull the sheets off his head. The kitten's meows seem to catch both Bari's and Robin's attention; their voices reach an abrupt stop.

"Flint," Bari calls, "are you awake?"

Flint lays silent, fooling no one. He hears a series of footsteps approach, then feels the mattress shift beneath the weight as Bari sits at his left and Robin at his right.

All goes quiet.

Bari is the first to speak, his voice uncharacteristically tight. "Flint... I'm sorry. About last night. I got overwhelmed... I shouldn't have run out on you like that."

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Flint mutters, withdrawing further underneath the cover of the bedsheets. "You shouldn't have. I fucked up."

There's another string of silence.

"... Well... we can't exactly unsee it," Bari eventually says. "But maybe it's something that needed to happen—"

"No." Flint spits the word out quick and sharp.

"...Hear me out, Flint." Bari's tone, slow and purposefully kind, remains at a steady constant. "This is obviously something that's been hurting you. There wouldn't be a broken mirror, otherwise. We all wouldn't be sitting here talking about it, either."

Flint shakes his head slightly, though he knows Bari can't see. Bari doesn't understand.

"Hiding those... marks... keeping it all to yourself... it can only hurt you more in the long run. It's not something you can handle by yourself. But you don't have to anymore. We know now, so—"

"I never wanted you to know."

Flint interrupts Bari as his hand grazes the letters burned onto his stomach. The rough, fibrous texture sends an electric spark up his arm that leaves behind goosebumps.

"I never wanted anyone to know. If no one knew, then I could pretend..."

"...Pretend... what?" Apprehension creeps into Bari's voice.

"That I'm something else. That I could ever become something else. If no one around me knows the label is there, I could act like I'm ignorant of it. It's stupid. It's frustrating. I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere, getting past all the pain, and then I look in the mirror and this is still there. And it always will be, because I'll always be me. And I know what I am... I'm... a..."

Flint grits his teeth; his body spasms as if in pain. It was always so painful to say the word. It never got easier, even as Risha made him repeat it over and over again like a mantra.

"Flint... you think that you're...?" That consistent tone Bari upheld wavers before completely falling apart. "You're wrong! You're absolutely wrong!"

"Bari—"

Robin goes to finally speak and interject, but the effort proves fruitless as Bari continues heedlessly.

"You're no longer a prisoner, Flint! You aren't anyone's prisoner! Those scars— it says nothing about you! It says so much more about the bastard who put it there than it will ever say about you!"

"Says more about..." Flint echoes as the word sinks in.

He shuts his eye, and the dead man's twisted, wretched smile flashes through his mind. If this word on his stomach doesn't define Flint in accordance with Risha's fancy, then... it defines Risha himself? That would mean the marks on his body are, in one way or another, a testament to Risha's fixation with him. Flint remembers the bragging— the way Risha would speak of him as an artist would speak of their work. A culmination of their hard work and passion, the result of their perfected and refined craftsmanship. Something to show off.

Are those Flint's only two options? Either the terms of his existence are dominated by Risha, or his existence is that of a canvas that speaks only of its artist.

"That's... not fair. That's not fair either." Flint clenches the fitted sheet with his fist; he can feel his nails digging into his skin through the fabric. "I don't want to be living proof of how awful Risha was. I don't want anything to do with him! I don't want to think about him or hear his damned voice anymore... I don't want to be his... I just want to be free of him!"

Again, all goes quiet.

When Robin speaks, her voice is low and shaky in its hesitance.

"Um... there was this book I read..."

The mattress creaks as she shifts her weight from side to side. She sputters out sounds as she struggles to carry a sentence.

"Ah, see, well... about this book. The main character... he's the survivor of a house fire. His entire left side was singed, leaving his skin... permanently defaced. That scarring overtook him. Slowly, but surely, the scars consumed his mind and became one with his identity. But by the end of the book, he realized that he was wrong. The scars were a part of him, but they weren't all he was."

As Robin speaks, Flint finally begins to peek his head out from the covers. Though Robin is misty-eyed, she meets his gaze with a sweet smile.

"The scars became a symbol to him. They were a symbol of his strength and survival. They didn't define him, they didn't define the fire that burned him, they defined one piece of him that he could take pride in. Perhaps that's how you should look at this, Flint. Your scars... they aren't all you are. Nor do they have to be tied to that... person. It's proof that you survived. And it's proof that you're carrying on."

Robin continues to smile silently, allowing the words and their meaning to hang in the air. Flint slowly sits up, letting the bedsheet fall from his body to reveal those eight letters he has desperately tried to hide. He peers down at it, breaking his eye contact with Robin as he exhales heartily.

He doesn't need to see their faces. He can feel their stares. He knows they're looking at the same letters with long, pained expressions and transparently heavy hearts.

"I think I like that," he says. "I'd like to think about it that way..."

He doesn't know if he can manage it. He doesn't know if he can chase Risha's voice from his head and embrace his scars as something positive. He doesn't know if he can ever truly overpower Risha's posthumous will.

But he'd like to.

"I'm glad!" Robin grabs Flint's hand with both of hers, though the enthusiasm in her expression falters as Flint flinches at the touch. "Sorry... I'm just happy to hear you say that. To think I could help you somehow..."

"...Robin." Flint lifts his head, but his eye meekly darts to the side. "...You don't judge me?"

"...Judge you? For what?"

"What else? I know what I said last night. You know that I killed someone."

Robin's smile fades. Her grip on Flint's hand remains firm as she sucks her teeth.

"...No, Flint. I don't judge you. I could never." Robin's blue eyes sharpen, resembling ice shards. They seem to glow against the shadow that her bangs cast over her face. "To be honest, I'm considering defying my genetics, becoming capable of magic, and learning the art of necromancy all so I can revive the bastard and kill him again myself in the most lengthy, painful way possible. Repeatedly."

The words come out in a hiss, laced with overwhelming, barefaced hatred and bloodlust. They bleed from her mouth with such ease— it is enough to make Bari shuffle back and scan the girl up and down with wide, gawking eyes.

Though Bari clearly finds it startling, Flint finds it comforting— more comforting than anything else she could have said.

He hums with a short nod. "Thank you, Robin..."

"... You don't need to thank me. I can't even put into words how angry I am with what you went through. But it's over now. We're here for you." Robin lifts Flint's hand as she lowers her head and presses her forehead against it. "I meant what I told you last night, Flint. You'll be okay."

Flint jumps as another set of hands clasp his free hand. He turns to see Bari's coffee-brown eyes shimmering in the dim morning light that slips past the curtains.

"She's right. We're here for you. And... I'm going to get you real help, Flint. Like, real help. We're gonna get someone who knows what they're doing, and you're going to feel so much better." Bari's hands tremor as his hold tightens. "Just hang on a little longer, okay? I promise you'll be okay. Things will get easier."

They all sit in place, frozen in time even as seconds tick by. Robin and Bari continue to clutch each of Flint's hands like a lifeline. Flint can still feel Bari tremble; Robin's beginning to tremble, too. It's as if they're all seated on an unsteady foundation that could fall apart at a moment's notice.

Flint's eye droops shut as an impulse threatens to escape from his lips. He's slowly (but surely) growing more used to the embrace of others. But he doesn't know how long it's been since he last craved someone's touch this vigorously. It's been years, that's for certain.

He can hardly believe the words that come from his mouth.

"Can you please... hug me?"

Bari blinks in surprise, but Robin doesn't hesitate. She throws her arms around him and burrows her face in his chest, allowing him to rest his chin on the top of her head. Bari follows suit, wrapping his arms around Flint's waist as he lays his cheek against his shoulder.

Flint has long forgotten what safety feels like. He has long forgotten how someone's touch can allow warmth to bloom in his chest and suffuse across his body. To feel these things again so strongly— so strongly that it's almost tangible...

Flint sobs as his arms cradle the backs of his siblings. It's not long until Bari and Robin cry alongside him.

* * *

Robin doesn't think she's ever cried this much in such a short period. Normally she'd be ashamed, but in this situation... she doesn't have the energy to be angry with herself. She's just happy to see Bari and Flint in higher spirits. If she's able to help them in the slightest of ways, she's content.

An hour has passed since Flint awoke. The three spend their morning lounging around the motel room as rowdy birds sing outside their window. Bari flips through channels on the outdated, chunky black box for a television, scoffing at half the nonsense he comes across. Flint's absorbed in his sketchbook, wildly flailing his green pencil across the page. Robin sits behind him, peering over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his art.

It's almost abstract in its presentation— the lines are chaotic yet strangely calculated. A blob of red that seems oddly human-shaped rushes through a landscape of browns and greens, leaving behind a red, spotted trail.

Robin's face lights up as it all clicks together. "Oh! Is that a drawing of sentient blood running through a forest?"

Flint looks back at her, staring silently for a moment until his mouth curls into a tiny, placid smile. He nods. "Mhm. Exactly."

"Ah!" Robin claps her hands together and intertwines her fingers. "It looks lovely!"

Bari shuffles closer to the pair. His wide eyes dart from the drawing, then to Robin, then back to the drawing, then back to Robin. "Wha— how were you able to get that from that?"

Robin blinks. "Is it not obvious?"

"I— that— no? How...?"

Robin doesn't answer, continuing to blink as she quirks her head. Bari shakes his head with a resigned sigh.

"Sibling magic, I guess," he says as he resumes clicking through channels.

Robin's phone buzzes. She flips it open to see a message from Sara that read:

Super sorry, Robin. The dorm supervisor figured out you weren't here. I had to tell her you snuck out to keep her from calling the cops and blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Apparently, she called your dad so... good luck, soldier.

Robin's face scrunches up into a wince. A total of three seconds later, her phone buzzes again as Eugene's contact flashes across the screen with a message that reads:

I assume you're with Bari?

Robin moves to respond with a half-truth:

Yeah. My friend told me the school called you. Sorry, it wasn't my intention to get caught. I just wanted to spend more time catching up with Bari.

She sucks in a breath as she waits for a response. She doesn't wait long, as Eugene quickly writes back:

I figured as much. You should have let me know. I covered for you and told them you were already with me due to a family emergency. I also took the liberty of calling you out of school for the next couple of days. I figured you'd appreciate that.

Robin takes a sigh of relief. She rubs her eyes— she didn't sleep at all last night. Bari hadn't, either... she wonders if the fatigue is catching up with him too.

Another buzz pulls her from her thoughts. A second message from Eugene reads:

I'm in Votno, but still pretty far from Wodic. I should be there by tomorrow night. I look forward to seeing you, sweetie. Tell Bari that I said hi and that he's still in massive trouble.

As if cued, Bari turns his head. "What's all the buzzing about?"

"Eugene's messaging me," Robin answers. "He says hi and that you're still in massive trouble."

Bari groans and throws his head back. "Of course."

"Anyway, he called me out of school for a bit, so I can stay here with you guys. I'm probably going to have to stop by to grab some clothes, though." Robin snaps her phone shut as she slips it into her pocket. "Oh! And he also says he should be here by tomorrow evening."

Flint's body twitches as his posture goes stiff. "...That soon?"

"Yes.... is that a bad thing?" Robin asks.

"No, no... it's not that. It's just that... I dunno... I'm nervous."

"Awe, this again? Flint, it's going to be fine." Bari pats the boy's back, making him stiffen further. "I mean, compared to the last couple of reunions, this one should be a cakewalk. At least there's no imminent threat of arrest and imprisonment this time."

Robin can't help but smile begrudgingly at the comment. "That's... one way to look at it."

Flint looks away from them both and lowers his sketchbook onto the floor. Though he now wears a hoodie adorned with a penguin design, his shaky hands hover over his stomach.

"Can't help it... I'm scared of what he'll think of me."

"He'll think of you as he's always thought of you, Flint. You're his kid," Bari says.

"But I'm also... this. I'm just... this... walking disaster." Flint hangs his head, declining to brush his bangs back as they fall to shield his eye. "I'm tired of being like this... I want it to stop..."

Flint rests his forehead on his knees with a low moan. Bari continues to pat his back, though with each tap, the tension that grips Flint's body appears to increase.

Bari's silent, just as Robin is silent. She's hushed by this strange, nostalgic feeling she scrambles to dissect.

Flint's strong desire to be different— to change— it's a feeling Robin understands. The desperation stabs at her with its familiarity; she knows it like an old friend. She stood in front of the mirror before, wishing to become someone new and to abandon the person she was behind.

She asks the question on a whim.

"Flint... would you like a haircut?"

Flint and Bari both glance up at her with blank expressions.

"Where's this coming from?" Bari asks.

"Ah! Well..." Robin presses her pointer fingers together as she stares at the wall beside her. "I know it sounds random, but a long time ago, I really wanted to become someone new and strong so... I cut my hair. It helped me feel like a new person and such. I mean it, it really did help me feel like someone new. I thought maybe... it could help Flint... too? It's silly, I know."

Robin blurts out a sheepish laugh. Flint's impassive stare shifts into something more bashful as his cheeks flush red.

"I don't see why not," he murmurs, throwing all his circumspection into the wind.

* * *

That day came and went, as did the next. Night settles. Eugene's due to knock on that door at any moment.

Flint sits at the edge of one of the beds, staring into the hand mirror Robin lent him (considering the bathroom mirror has been rendered useless). He didn't know what to expect when he let Robin cut his hair, but he definitely didn't anticipate feeling so... odd about it. Throughout the years, even as it grew longer and longer, he never felt much of anything for his hair. Yet, to have it cut away so suddenly made him realize how accustomed he's grown to it. He feels a lack of weight whenever he moves his neck, creating this sensation of lightness that draws further attention to the change. When he reaches, and his fingers touch the back of his neck, something about it feels absurd and incorrect.

It's short, but it's not the same blunt cut he wore as a young boy. There are layers, being longer at the top and shorter on the bottom so as to not touch his shoulders. It's still plenty scruffy and voluminous, though, as his hair never did lend itself to neatness. It's still his hair after all, but it's also different. And he likes that.

He likes the image in the reflection— as dreadful as his scars are. He looks the most well-kept and presentable he has since— well, considering the last seven years he's been clothed in jumpsuits while being drowned in bruises and wounds and chains and restraints, the last time he felt presentable escapes him. But now he's looking at himself wearing a red sweater and a button-up collared shirt underneath, sudden gifts from this morning. Bari had been the one who handed them to him, but he knew it was Robin's idea. He overheard her whispering to Bari about Flint's need for confidence and ways they could help him.

As frustrating as it is to have his younger siblings doting over him like this, he can't deny how much he's needed this. Between the hair and the clothes, he feels like someone new. He's looking in the mirror, and he doesn't see a prisoner. He doesn't see Risha's "little thief." He's just... him.

He slowly exhales as he lowers the mirror. Perhaps there's hope for him. He's expressed his resolve before: even if his life is worth nothing to the world, it's worth something to him. He needs to keep reminding himself of that.

He hopes this feeling can stay.

He looks up to see Bari leaning against the wall, anxiously tapping his foot while Robin sits on the floor with her legs crossed. She keeps checking her phone, repeatedly opening it to a dissatisfied huff before snapping it shut.

Bari's eyes are half-lidded and his face is unusually long. Robin is struggling to keep her eyes open. A pang strikes Flint's chest.

His first instinct is to apologize, but he knows Bari would shut him down the second the word "sorry" came from his lips. He's tried at least eight different times to apologize for the disaster that was the other night, none of which he was allowed to finish. The guilt about the whole matter was overwhelming, and yet Bari was having none of that.

So instead, he asks: "... Are you both okay?"

Robin's head perks up. "Oh, yes, yes. Just waiting. Eugene said he'd be here in an hour about an hour ago... so..."

"Any moment now," Bari says. "How about you, Flint? You still nervous?"

"... A bit, yeah. But at least I get to apologize for that stupid crap I said before—"

There's a knock at the door.

Robin's standing immediately, darting to the door without hesitance. Bari walks after her, but briefly stops to give Flint an assuring smile and a squeeze on his shoulder. He then continues after Robin, leaving Flint sitting on the edge of the bed alone.

Flint picks Lulu up from the floor (where she was sitting passively) and places her in his lap. He runs his fingers down her back, making her purr. Lulu's purr is the only thing that keeps his heart rate from spiking as he hears the front door squeak open.

There's a long, torturous pause. Flint, against every instinct, peeks at the man, though the sight of him puts his nerves into overdrive.

Eugene looks the same... mostly. The tall build that's lean but nowhere near scrawny, the stubble that gives his chin a rugged look, the dark brown eyes that tend to appear amber in the sunlight— that's all there. But there are way more gray strands in his head of mahogany brown hair. There are a few wrinkles beneath his eyes and around his mouth that Flint doesn't remember being there. Those wrinkles make him look absolutely exhausted, which he can only imagine speaks of what he's endured.

... Bari did tell him that Eugene really struggled after his disappearance. That fact didn't feel real until now.

Eugene's focus lands on Bari as he shoves his hands into his pocket. "Bari..."

The muscles in Bari's back twitch. "Eugene..."

"...Why is your hair green?"

"... Why is that everyone's first question?!"

Against all odds, Robin stifled a laugh. A bewildered Bari runs his hands through his hair before Eugene steps forward and grabs him in a firm embrace.

"I'm glad your safe, sport. I am so sorry..."

"Sorry...?" Despite the confusion in his tone, Bari hugs back. "What are you—?"

"I should have never sent you out on your own. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but really I was just..." Eugene's voice trails off mid-sentence. He pulls back, gripping Bari's shoulders as he shakes his head. "You have no idea how worried I was. It would've been nice if you, hm, I don't know, called me like I told you to. Multiple times."

"Yeah, yeah... I know, I know. I may or may not have messed up with the number thing but hey, we're here now! It's all water under the bridge. Right?"

"... ... ... You're lucky I love you as much as I do, kid." Eugene groans as his hands recede. "I hope you've been taking care of yourself. I'll drill you on that in a moment, but first..."

Eugene turns to Robin and leans forward. Robin eagerly hops into his arms.

"Don't think for a second I forgot about you, sweetie. You're growing much too fast— I'm going to have to ask you to stop."

"Sorry, no can do."

"What happened to my dear little girl?"

Robin smiles as she nuzzles her cheek into his chest. "I'm not sure. But I know I missed you."

"... I missed you too."

Eugene holds Robin close, a soft, content expression on his face. That expression is replaced with slight surprise and confusion when he notices Flint from over Robin's shoulder. Flint's gaze shoots to the floor on instinct.

"Ah..." Eugene releases Robin from his grip. "...You have a friend over?"

Neither Bari nor Robin answer. They look at each other and silently stare.

"Um." Eugene folds his arms. "Was I not supposed to ask that?"

The two still don't answer. Robin instead whispers to Bari in a hushed voice, "How do we do this?"

"That question probably should've been asked before the man was standing a foot away from us," he answers.

Eugene cocks his head to the side. "Am I missing something here?"

The pair finally turn back to face Eugene, both tentative to speak.

"... You should go say hi," Bari says.

"Yes." Robin nods vigorously. "Go say hi."

Robin grabs Eugene's hand and tugs him forward. Bari pushes him from behind. The baffled man goes along with their guidance, allowing them to position him in front of the small boy.

Flint continues to stare at his feet even as the man is standing right in front of him. Robin and Bari back away, giving Eugene space as he's left scratching the side of his neck and staring down at someone who is— for all he knows— a total stranger.

"...Hello. It's nice to meet you, kid."

Eugene extends his hand out to Flint for a handshake, and all Flint can do is resist the urge to cry. He keeps his hands wrapped around Lulu, swallows a massive lump forming in his throat, and lifts his head to meet Eugene's gaze.

Flint can't hold back his tears when he sees Eugene's slightly flustered, vacant expression. He can't exactly blame Eugene for it. Robin didn't recognize him at first, either, but to see this man who raised him stare at him like they've never met...

Eugene blinks, and something shifts. He retracts his hand as his brows knit together. His eyes narrow as he slowly gets down onto his knees. The recognition still hasn't hit, but there's clear intrigue.

Flint can't tell if Eugene realizes they've met before, or if he's just puzzled by Flint's scars and his missing eye.

Regardless, Flint lowers his head and speaks the words he's been wishing to say for years.

"I'm sorry, Eugene... f-for that stuff I said. It was stupid. I didn't mean it... I-I didn't know I wouldn't get to see you again. If I had known, I-I wouldn't have said any of it."

Eugene's narrowed eyes go wide. He inhales but doesn't exhale.

"I-I hope you can forgive me," Flint continues, compulsively running his fingers through Lulu's fur. "I've wanted to apologize all this time. For everything. It's... it's all my fault, anyway. Not yours. It's all my—"

Flint shrieks as he's pulled into an unyielding embrace, one hand laid on his back and the other nestled through strands of his hair. Eugene's grip is so tight that it's almost suffocating—Lulu is forced to leap from Flint's lap to avoid getting crushed between them.

Flint nearly begins to hyperventilate. In the corner of his vision, he sees Bari and Robin approach with haste. Bari's arms are outstretched, fully prepared to rip Eugene off of him... but he doesn't. He watches, waiting to see if Flint panics or struggles. Flint's instincts tell him to do just that, but he goes rigid at the sound of sobbing.

"My boy..." Eugene mutters between gasps. "My boy... my boy... my sweet boy..."

Flint's never seen Eugene cry. Ever.

It's enough of a shock to keep Flint grounded. This desperate grasp is that of his father... the person he would cry out for when his fevers ran high and he was at his most delirious. The person he hoped would comfort him and keep him safe.

Flint melts into the hold. He buries his face into Eugene's chest.

And for a long time, all becomes still.

"...How?" Eugene withdraws from the hug, but quickly cups Flint's face in his hands. Eugene's cheeks are burning red as they are stained by seemingly unstoppable tears. "...How?!"

Flint flinches as Eugene raises his cracking voice. A hand reaches to clutch Eugene's shoulder.

"Eugene, take a breath," Bari all but demands.

"Am I imagining this?!" Eugene twists his head back, his bloodshot eyes frantic. "Am I hallucinating?! Flint— he— the fire—!"

"No, you're not hallucinating. Flint's here, but you need to calm down—"

"How can I calm down right now?!"

Flint suddenly slaps Eugene's hands away and pushes himself back. Eugene returns his focus to him, features instantly softening as he sees Flint with his knees curled up and his arm raised defensively. He goes to reach out for him, but his hand stiffens and freezes in place.

Flint realizes what he just did as his arm drops back to his side. His eye flits to the opposite side of the room. "I-I didn't mean... I'm... I'm sorry..."

Eugene lowers his trembling hand as he slowly shakes his head. His irises seem to waver like ripples in a pond. "...What happened to you?"

Flint's jaw locks as he studies a dust bunny clinging to the bottom of the room's lamp. Even if he wanted to answer, his throat shuts to prevent a single word from escaping.

"...Take a walk with me, Eugene." Bari wraps his hands around Eugene's arm. "I'll explain everything."

Flint's head jerks up. He doesn't want Eugene to leave, but his clogged throat renders him mute even when he opens his mouth to object.

"What—?!" Eugene begins to shout.

"Keep your voice low," Bari snaps back. Eugene's expression turns somber.

"Sorry." He clears his throat. "...But I just found out Flint's alive... I don't want him out of my sight again—!"

"You're raising your voice again," Bari chides. "You need a moment to calm down. I need to explain this all to you. And I don't want to make Flint relive everything while I do so."

Eugene's mouth hangs open, but all that comes from it is a sigh. He puts his hand over his blotchy red face and slowly stands up.

* * *

Bari tells Eugene everything.

From the circumstances that took Flint away from them, to their chance meeting and their escape, to Risha's death and his haunting influence, to the residual traumas and Flint's paranoia, to even the events of the other night and the eight letters engraved on Flint's stomach— Bari spares no detail. It scares him how calmly he describes it all... perhaps his prior breakdown has cleansed all his tears from his system. Maybe that's why he can speak the words with an eerie sense of dissonance that keeps his heart from plunging into his stomach.

Eugene says nothing throughout it all. He sits on the pavement with his back against the motel's wall, knees spread apart and his folded hands pressed against his forehead. Bari can't see his face, and he's not sure he wants to. He can certainly live without seeing the haunted look that no doubt engulfs it.

When Bari finally finishes, and the air goes dead, Eugene lets out a gasp that nearly sounds like a laugh. He drags his hands across his face, tugging at his eyelids.

"...Are you okay?" Bari asks.

Eugene slowly lifts his head with an incredulous glare. "Of all the questions you could ask me right now..."

"That's a no. I got it." Bari slumps down beside Eugene and crosses his legs. "I know this is a shock."

"...You said the prison was called Woodgate, correct?"

"...Yes. Why?"

"I know the warden."

Bari's head jolts up to meet Eugene's eyes, but Eugene keeps his gaze forward.

"A long time ago, we had a little 'arrangement.' He was still a guard at the time, and having a guard look the other way in exchange for a bit of my profits was helpful. I ran into him a couple of years ago, and we caught up. I had no idea..." Eugene grits his teeth and speaks in a low growl. "I am going to murder him."

Eugene means that, and Bari knows it. That man's days have just been numbered.

"... I don't understand it." Eugene holds his head in his hands. "How could he— how could anyone?! He was a little boy! From what you're telling me... it's miraculous he could function at all!"

"He's still Flint. And Flint's always been hella' stubborn," Bari says. "But... he's struggling. What happened was—"

"Unforgivable. Un-fucking-forgivable." Eugene takes another hitched gasp for a breath. "My poor child..."

The man can't sit still. His head keeps bobbing up and down, his restless hands run through and pull at his hair, his leg bounces up and down like a tapping foot. His anger, his frustration, and his utter despair fight for prevalence in his expression and voice.

"All this time... his 'death'... it's haunted me. A day hasn't passed where I haven't blamed myself. But really, I shouldn't have been blaming myself for that. I should've been blaming myself for this. I-I let this happen to my kid, and I hadn't a fucking clue in the world—"

"None of us knew, Eugene," Bari interjects with a sharp tone. "There's nothing we can do about that. It happened. But at least he's alive."

"Alive, but he went through a hell no one should because I—"

"He went through a hell no one should, but he's alive. That means we can help him. Blaming yourself for what happened won't get anyone anywhere. It never did. Flint needs help right now, Eugene."

Eugene stiffens as the words sink in. His eyes go wide as something inside him clicks together. He blinks harshly, and tears fall onto his cheeks.

"...Here I am, making the exact same mistakes: getting lost in grief and guilt and forcing you to be the adult. I am so sorry." Eugene wipes his eyes and nose with a sniffle. "I shouldn't be putting this stuff on you, Bari. I should be listening to you."

Eugene looks to Bari with pity in his eyes— pity he doesn't quite understand. There's this sudden uncomfortable, violating feeling that Eugene's stare is piercing through his skin and reading the thoughts strung across his mind.

"You're incredible, Bari. Stupidly reckless, but incredible."

"Even when you're praising me, you've got to throw that comment in there?"

"Well, I'd be hardpressed to call purposely getting yourself arrested to orchestrate a breakout anything but stupidly reckless. But you did it. You've managed to save Flint while coping with... everything. And you've managed to keep him in one piece after the fact. That's nothing short of incredible."

Bari struggles not to squirm as Eugene speaks. Never had he felt "incredible" for all the things he's done. Rather, he battled the feeling of uselessness as he'd helplessly watch Flint having an "episode" on one of his bad days, or even unexpectedly on one of his good days. But here he is, having Eugene praise him. There he was the other night, having Robin thank him and promise to be there for him.

"But I think you should take the time to think about what you want, Bari."

Bari doesn't understand. "...What I want? What do you mean?"

"That you should take a breath and let me take care of things. It's about time I act like a father. So take the opportunity, Bari. Think about what you want for your future."

His future? Bari hasn't thought much about his future since— ever. It's always been about survival, day in and day out. Making the most out of the life he has. What would he want to do with his life even if he could do anything? Hell if he knows.

"... I don't know how many options I have," Bari mutters.

"...Try to have a little faith. Considering everything I've found out today, anything's possible."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that... but you do have a point."

There's a pause as the two both sigh. Eugene lowers his head back into his hand as he begins to think aloud.

"Maybe we could settle down somewhere. Nearby, obviously, for Robin's sake. Build something stable— stability would be good for the both of you—"

Bari raises a brow. "Think you'd be able to afford that?"

"I'd find a way." Eugene dismisses Bari's question with a wave of his hand and continues. "You said Flint needs professionals, and you're right. There's got to be someplace where—"

"If you're about to suggest trying to institutionalize him, that's no bueno. It'd do more harm than good— Flint would freak out and probably break out of the place the second someone's not looking."

"...I understand." Eugene drums his fingers against his forehead. "...I know someone. An expert in the psychology field. She helped Bonnet— you remember Bonnet, right?"

Bari swallows hard. "Yes."

"She owes me a favor. I'm sure I could get her to come over for a long while. She'll know what to do— I think she could even prescribe medications if need be."

"... Sounds like she's what we need."

"Yes. She does."

With a short huff, Eugene pushes himself onto his feet and stretches out his back. He wipes away the last of his tears as he peers down at Bari.

"I'm going back inside. I feel that if I don't, Flint will vanish and I'll learn that I've dreamed this whole thing up."

"...I get that feeling." Bari slowly stands up as well. "I'm right behind you."

* * * 

Eugene opens the motel door to find Robin and Flint sitting across from each other on the floor. Flint's holding a stuffed unicorn in his arms— Bari recognizes it as the prize he won at the fair.

Flint tilts his head to the side. "...You're supposed to name them?"

"Well, you don't have to. But I like to!" Robin smiles brightly as she sweeps a strand of hair from her face.

"Hm..." Flint looks down at the plush and points to its snout. "How about Blue? Like its mouth?"

"Awe, I think that's a very cute name," Robin chimes. Her smile falters as her head turns. "Oh! You're back..."

Flint looks up at the man only to immediately shyly avert his gaze. He sets the plush to the side and lays his hands in his lap. Eugene approaches and slowly lowers himself onto his knees. There's a very soft crack.

"Geez, my knees aren't what they used to be," he grumbles as he adjusts his position.

"Cuz you're an old man?" Bari teases. He gives Eugene a cheeky smirk as he sits at the edge of one of the beds.

"Watch it, kid." Eugene rolls his eyes before focusing his attention on Flint. "Hey..."

Flint shudders beneath Eugene's gaze. He stares at and fidgets with his sleeve nervously.

Eugene presses the edge of his palms to his eyes as tears once again show their face. "...God, I don't know what I planned to say, I just didn't want to start crying again. But I can't help it. Seeing you right now... like this... oh, my son."

Flint lifts his head, and the tears that now run down his face mirror Eugene's. "...I'm... I'm so—"

"Don't you dare apologize to me, Flint. I— I was always so hard on you. This could've all been avoided if I just..." Eugene shakes his head, refusing to fall into that same trap. He takes a gulp of air and wills the tears to stop. "You don't have anything to apologize for. If anything, I do."

"But— but it's my fault!" Flint spits frantically. "I said those dumb things a-and I wasn't careful enough—!"

"Easy, easy, please!" Eugene reaches for Flint, but his unsure hands hover over his shoulders. "I said dumb things too, and for that, I'm also sorry! And even if you did make a mistake, you've long paid your dues! Nothing you've said or done could have possibly made you deserve any of the hell you went through! So please, stop apologizing!"

"But... but I...!" Flint rubs the tears from his reddened face. "I just... I just want you to forgive me..."

"...There's nothing for me to forgive. I've grieved for you, Flint. I've been grieving and grieving and grieving and now that you're in front of me all I want to do is protect you from anything and everything. I want to make up for what I failed to do; I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you—"

Without another word, Flint practically flops onto Eugene. He lays his cheek against his chest, his eye drooping shut as if he's about to fall asleep. But his tears are still glistening in the light of a flickering lamp, dripping down his relaxed face.

Eugene wraps his arms around him, gently holding him like a child. "I've got you, kid... I've got you."

* * *

Eugene remembers a question he asked himself on the train ride to Votno:

He can't change his past, so what can he do?

He's found his answer.

He'll change his future, as the future forever remains unwritten.