Sleep didn't come easy for Max that night. It probably wouldn't for days and days and days.

She would drift off knowing she and Miles weren't alone in the building. She tried to let it fill her with warmth, not alone anymore, but then...

firesburningcalwherearethechildrenwherearethechildrenWHEREARETHECHILDREN

... but then, her almost dreaming mind would grab the wards around the occupied apartment and check them. Compulsively. To do a kid inventory. To make sure they were safe. Make sure they weren't being hurt.

Every time, she'd be told by her magic that they were sleeping, all in the same bed, in a pile of unwashed kid and young man funk; that they were dreaming and snoring and farting. One was doing that thing dogs do when they bark in their sleep. One was twitching and whimpering, but only sleeping whimpers that signified little. The last was silent and still on his back and had his little head tucked in the crook of his bony little elbow.

It was exhausting.

Conceding defeat around three a.m., she asked Miles to do a perimeter check. She just needed a little bit of solitude. She slumped her way up the hidden stairs that lead from her bunker, through the hidden door, through the greenhouse, and out to the corner walled-in that held her forge. Miles wanted a speaker so he can entertain himself with novel kid conversations? That's fine. I'll do that.

Her mind disconnected and she crafted what she could only describe as a beautiful piece of hideousness. This would work for the interim. If he wants it better, maybe he should craft little hands and do it himself. Make himself a little forge. Weave himself a metal muzzle. Since he knows so much.

She knew she was being a bitch in her sleepy grumpiness, but it was all whatever. This is fine. It's all fine. She also may have been a bit resentful of the little spider-- it was he who made her not run for the hills when the kid-shaped bushels of flags walked across that street and laid their little flag problems at her feet. It was his idea to invite them in. His idea to welcome them into their home.

She wasn't ready. She wasn't sure if she was ever capable of being ready again.

Sigh.

This is fine. It'll all be okay. A snort. A gasp. A whimpered sob. I'll survive.

She looked at the beautiful hideousness she had made during her stupid little tantrum; considered it. Tilted it this way and that. Then threw it in the discard pile. Miles didn't deserve her shitty efforts, made in the heat of ugly emotions.

Miles was, underneath it all, living his first life. He didn't know what he had asked of her. What he forced her into. She tried to explain, but sometimes you can't understand a thing until you've lived through it. He was still, even after his almost eternal solitude, young.

He hadn't felt the personal agony of losing loved ones. He hadn't seen death, not really. He was born in a world of it, but it had already happened when he booted and gained consciousness. It is just a story to him. I guess he'll see it now.

Ding! You've reached Level 26. All stats distrib...

She dismissed the notification.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Then her nose. She turned off her smithing instruments and banked the fire in the forge. The requested voice creation doo-dad wasn't happening this morning. She looked out of the nearest windowed wall and saw that the sun was rising.

Okay, there's other stuff she had to do. Time to gird her non-cloaca sheathed loins again. Just exist. Today will be busy. Stuff to settle.

----------------------------------------

After waking up in a strange, soft bed in the late morning (early afternoon if he was really counting), Merrick untangled himself from Thomas, who was still sleeping and looked around the room they had all fallen asleep in for Emma.

She was missing.

His heart kicked up by a few beats a minute, but he didn't panic. He heard pans and pots clanking together in the next room. The kitchen. That was probably her. They were fine. They didn't get eaten or stolen during the night. Things were still okay.

He walked across the too-big floor to the door, opened it, and walked through. He immediately slammed a blank look on his face when he spotted a fist-sized spider helping his baby sister mix up, what he thought was supposed to be pancake batter, with his golden spider legs. The goop had chunks of colorful stuff in it? Was that a leaf?

"Morning, Merri!" His Emmafly was beaming. She looked so happy. Rested. Excited. "Me and Miles are cooking! A guy named Steve brought up a fucking huge load of food and Miles said I could cook, so I'm cooking!"

"Okay. But, have you even ever cooked before? I thought you hated it and made Thom do it?" Merrick was amused and confused.

Em always talked about how she hated doing the cooking. The cleaning. The laundry. She just didn't ever want to be shoe-horned into housekeeping, because it had connotations that she didn't like. Like being a wife and housekeeper at the tender age of thirteen.

He didn't blame her for her hatred, not one bit.

"Miles has a recipe. I'm just following his lead."

"But he can't talk. How do you understand him?"

She cut her eyes quickly to the shiny spider. "I can read his body language. Can't you? It's not hard."

The spider took his leg out of the mixing bowl and waved it around. The batter splattered little dots all over the counter. He did a little spider dance and went back to mixing, sticking his leg back in the bowl.

"It's fine, Merri. Don't worry. Brunch will be done in a bit. It's gonna be tasty, you'll see. Just wait," she said.

"Okay? I guess I'll.. I'll go downstairs and ask Lady about getting our stuff? Yeah." He started walking to the door that lead down to the store.

"Steve brought it all this morning. Said Lady gave us the morning off and we are gonna go shopping this afternoon. She said she needs you at the register at one. Something about signing a document? Probably finishing the contract stuff. It's a little after noon now, so you can probably head that way. Don't make her wait! I'll call you..." she handed him a phone, with a shit-eating grin, and showed hers to him "...when the food is ready." A squeal, "We have phones! Our own ones, too! We don't have to share!" She punched the air.

"Oh... kay. I'll go downstairs and look for her then?" Overwhelmed again. Overwhelming.

It's too much. Maybe too good to be true. Did I jump the gun? Did I sign a deal with a devil? Now that the sun was up and he was rested and didn't have the stinking, immediate, animal fear of "how do I feed them today?" looming over him, this whole situation made him uneasy. Good things never happen like this to pups that came from his trash pack. Not without having to pay in blood or servitude. Most times, both.

"Yeah, do that. Me and Miles were discussing what's better: healing people, or being able to cast spells at them. I keep telling him healing is better because then no one would see you as a threat and you'd be able to sneak behind them and shank them, but he thinks spells are cool. I dunno, though."

"You can get all that from him? From his body language?"

"I might be making up most of what he's saying, but I'm still right, Merri."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"'Kay."

***

After leaving a giggling, chatty, dancing Emma in the care of a somehow bossy, nonverbal arachnid, this is fine, he went downstairs to the store and didn't see the Lady. He wandered around the shop. He looked at the shelves.

They were absolutely packed with bottled liquids, each of them making his fingers tingle when he trailed his hand over them. He'd use his pointer to touch a label to make out the words, sometimes "Healing" sometimes, "Curative," sometimes, "Mana." They were all different colors and all smelled heavily of herbs and life and magic. The feeling of lingering magic in the air was starting to pool on his tailbone, worming its way up his spine.

Is it gonna attack again? Do I run?

"Morning, Pup. I wasn't expecting you yet, but it's good you're here. Give me a hand, yeah?" The Lady came out of fucking nowhere and made him jump a godsdamned foot in the air. He squeaked and spun to look at her. She chuckled. "Didn't mean to startle you, sorry."

"It's fine. It's just all the magic in here. Making me jumpy, I guess." He calmed himself by rubbing his palms on his dirty jeans from yesterday-- and a few days on top of that -- and tentatively smiled at her. Damn, still hot.

He walked up to her and took the box she was carrying. Holy balls, it's heavy. How was she carrying this? He could barely keep it waist level and was struggling.

"You can feel the magic in here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's crawling all over me. Thought I was keyed to this place now?"

"You are. You must have some incredible sensitivity if you can feel my background wards." She tilted her head and jerked her chin to a shelf. "The potions, can you feel those too?" She asked.

"Yeah, they're tingly. Make my hands sweat." He sat the box on the counter that held the register.

"Huh. We should take a look at that, see what you have going on, and see if we can mitigate it."

"That would be good. It's... a lot of magic." He took a breath, "Are you a hiding Archmage? Is that why the secrecy?" Damn, look at his morning balls. He just blurted it right out and asked. He braced himself to be reprimanded.

"Nah, just a little potion-making druid. It's no big deal. The secrecy is because I have a rough past. I just have some very big trust issues." She tried for a convincing smile and patted his arm, but she just wasn't selling it. "Don't worry about getting caught up in magic fights, or politics, or anything you think might be happening here. I realized this morning that last night, I may have come off as a bit shady. I'm not. I'm just a girl who likes to turn into animals sometimes and can make a healing potion or two. Really, not exceptional at all. Totally normal."

"Turn..." his voice cracked. "..turn into animals?"

"Yeah. I'm not human. I can turn into animals. Is that not a thing here, or? I thought?" She took a moment to think. "Dude, you guys turn into animals, and I was totally cool with it. Girly Beasty told me all about it before I ever even said a word to her. Why can't I do it too? I told you last night I wanted to shift with you all, it was part of the contract. What's the deal?" She asked.

He put two and two together -- for once in his dumb, stupid, miserable life -- and correctly deduced that he was looking at four.

His heart exploded into a panic. He started sweating.

Oh, no.

She's a fucking Shining One. Right here, out in the open, in the godsdamned city. Oh, fuck. We are so fucking fucked that I can't understand how fucking fucked we are. Fuck. I didn't know. How could I know? Okay. What'd ma say the rules for them are? They can't lie. That's good. She said she'd make us safe. What else? They'll try to talk you into making deals. Shit. They'll clean your house? No, that can't be right. Lady said we have to clean. What else? Don't thank them. Shit. Don't give them your name. Shit. Don't take food from them. Shit. Don't go into their territory. Shit. Don't get indebted to them. Shit. What else?

They'll steal your kids and take them from their homes, forever. Shit.

They'll turn your kids into Shining Ones, too. Wait.

Oh.

A breath.

Wait.

Another breath. A stray thought.

She keeps calling me kid, too. And pup.

Wait.

While he was panic-thinking, recalculating, and trying to make sense of what was actually going the hells on and pretty much figuring it out, she was just standing there and looking at him like he was an idiot. Which was fair. I am a godsdamned idiot, but maybe a lucky one?

She apparently lost her patience. "Well? What's the verdict?"

"I'm sorry, what was the question?" It was too late now. He and the kids were as good as sold. He had done it himself. All three of them had. They all signed the same agreement.

"Is this going to be an issue? Are my animals not as good as your animals? Or are you going to not be an asshole so we can stock these bottles and then meet Mr. Green in a minute to sign the documents?" Her chin was jutted out and her hand was on her hip.

A breath, "What documents? I'm sorry. I was really tired last night." Maybe it wasn't final-final yet? But if he could, would he still back out?

"You are all joining my household. Dang, pup, this was all discussed already." Again, like he was an idiot. He was.

"Oh. Okay. Yeah. All three of us, together, right?" It had to be all of them. Anything was okay as long as they were together. The kids were all he had left. And if they got the protection of a godsdamned Shining One, without him having to barter his soul or ass or blood or seed for it, maybe this was a better deal than he had ever hoped for? All he had to do was... retail work? Customer service?

She started to look at him with worry. "Yeah, pup. You okay? You look a little sick. Is it the magic? I can try to find you something to make it a little easier, but we are kind of on a schedule, yeah? Can you deal for a minute while I let him in, or do we need to move this to the greenhouse?"

A deep breath.

A choice.

For good or ill. A deal's a deal.

Shoulders fall. "Nah, I'm fine." A half-hearted smile. "It must have been the food from last night. We aren't really used to eating so good."

Her face was sad. Pained. "Oh, poor little puppy. We're gonna fix that as fast as we can." She patted his arm again and walked away, toward the front door of the shop and opened it --jingle, jingle.

Mr. Green was a lawyer. He looked like a lawyer. Smelled like papers and greed. And attraction for the Lady, but Merrick wasn't saying shit about shit.

Let that guy make his own mistakes. He doesn't know what he's asking for, not with the Lady. Should I warn him? Is she gonna do something fucked up to him?

He thought about it, and looked at the bookish, gangly man in his three-piece suit, with his perfectly combed hair. His avaricious eyes. His obvious money. Gold rings on his fingers. Spotless shoes. A pocket square.

Nah, he's a lawyer. He gets what he gets.

"My darling cousin, Ms. Traveler! I was so glad I got your call this morning." Mr. Green walked in and gently picked up the Lady's offered hand. Kissed it.

"Heya Green." She smiled at him and walked him further into the shop, locking the door behind them both.

Cousin? Whatever. Don't look at her like that.

"I'm glad you could make time for us today." She leaned against the counter.

"And who is this?" Mr. Green smiled a smarmy smile at Merrick, and Merrick did his best to look both blasé and tough. Tough-like. Tough-adjacent. Not too tough, though. He decided to try to sell the "hey, I'm totally a kid who is a kid so a Shining One can buy me" look to the Lady. He wasn't an idiot who was gonna let wounded manly pride separate him from Em and Thom.

"This is Puppy. He and his siblings are joining my household today. Don't be an asshole, Pup. Say hello to the nice man who came all this way on short notice to finish this up for us, and we can go shopping."

Mr. Green gurgled. He laughed. Really loud. Really hard. For longer than what was polite. "Oh, cousin. This is unexpected. But completely wonderful. Where are the parents? Do I need to send someone to clean any messes?"

"No, they aren't around anymore. And no, it wasn't my doing. I'm helping these kids get back on their feet. I'd like them to be full household members with privileges, rights, and responsibilities. Can we do the updated documents today? They need a lot of stuff and I'd like to get them settled as quickly as possible."

His head was thinking privileges, rights, and responsibilities? What's that mean?

Mr. Green looked at Merrick with light in his eyes. He seemed friendlier somehow?

Maybe Merrick had Mr. Green wrong? No. What's different?

His smell changed in a blink. His posture was different. He was taller. His hair was a brighter color. His eyebrows were weird. His features were pointier. His arms and legs were spindly. Wait.

Fucking godsdamned Shining Ones everywhere. Fuck. Merrick's jaw tightened. His shitty little pack in his shitty little town did not prepare him for this.

"Indeed, Ms. Traveler. I can gather your signatures right now and have it filed within the hour. You have great taste in children. A shifter? Are they all shifters? Delightful!" He clapped his hands and bounced on his toes.

"They are mine, Mr. Green. Find your own kids. These ones are spoken for." Lady had stopped leaning on the counter, and squared up to Mr. Green so quickly, and looked so deadly so fast, Merrick wasn't sure what to make of it. She kind of had a... he sniffed. Was that a? A Dominance Aura?

Great, now Merrick was the one who smelled like attraction. Great.

"Ahahaha indeed, cousin. Indeed." Mr. Green's palms were presented to Lady, up in the air, showing no threat. "Put the claws away. No harm meant. I was just curious. We haven't had shifter children adopted into a major house in quite a long time."

"My house is not a major one, it's just me." Lady deadpanned.

"And your assistant." Mr. Green said, matter-of-factly.

"And my assistant," Lady said, grudgingly.

A harsh silence. Mr. Green isn't getting a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

Merrick smiled a smug smile.

Mr. Green had a smug smile of his own.

The Lady's eyes narrowed at Mr. Green.

"No tricks, cousin." She barked a demand.

"You're no fun. It wouldn't have been bad. This pup is of us, now." Mr. Green grinned, malevolently. Mischievously. He was not at all what he seemed when he walked in.

Shining Ones totally lie with appearances. Ma was wrong. The whole "they can't lie" tip is absurd.

Merrick really and truly did not like him.

"No tricks." Another harsh, barked demand. "He is mine."

Green sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's do this."

The Lady and Merrick signed a brittle piece of paper that was quickly rolled up and put into a document tube. It disappeared from Mr. Green's hands.

Don't ask. Not my business.