Disorientation is defined as a loss of comprehension of all the factors of who, what, where, when and why. The last time I experienced it, I had gone to sleep in my soft bed and woken up in a rough sack. When I was poured out in front of my captors on a black sand beach, my thoughts were as scrambled as I like my eggs. Where was I? Was my name Mick, or had that been a dream? Most loudly, despite more important questions like "what are these villains going to do to me?", the biggest question on my mind was, "Who on Earth approved of these pajamas?"

Tobias was lucky to not have done his traveling in a sack, at the least. His friends discretely transferred him from the plane to Teddy's tidy little automobile and puttered safely to their address, where Tobias finally awoke in a bathtub filled with red and brown water, and said, "Huh?"

The white walls burned his eyes and the water sent him flashes of the ocean, and he jolted to sit upright, suddenly convinced he'd fallen asleep in the blackened waters by the volcano and would need to move before the tide came in.

Hands groped at his shoulders and he swatted at them blindly, vision unaided and head spinning. He heard his name, but was barely aware of it. He tried to stand, but slipped over instantly when he came to the startling re-realization that he only had one foot.

A woman cried out. He cried out. Then, all was black again.

After hitting his head on bathtub faucet, he did not wake again for hours, when he found himself tucked soundly under soft white sheets, so snug and comfortable, that despite the questions of where he was, how he got there, what was so itchy, he remained still and relaxed. He blinked placidly at the ceiling, then rolled his head to look left, where Teddy dozed with his lips parted just enough to show his teeth. Tobias furrowed his brow slightly and looked to his right and felt something missing immediately. His hand bolted from the covers to touch the flat side of his skull, and he felt more strange absences.

"Tob—" Viola Mae began, turning her head from the television.

"My ear!" Tobias gaped, sitting abruptly upright. He pulled his bandaged hand away and gawked at it, too. "My fingers!"

He squealed in distress, pressing his good knuckles hard against his lips. The stub of his mottled ring finger wiggled before him, and the middle finger was gone entirely.

"Maybe a healer could have saved them," Voila Mae murmured, touching his shoulder and looking past to her sleeping partner. They were all sharing the bed, and a television softly vibrated with sitcom laughter before them, casting them in changing light. "But I couldn't chance leaving them on. They were dead, Tobias. If I left them on, they might have made everything worse. I'm sorry."

Tobias bit his lip and rubbed his cheek anxiously in circles, looking down.

His powers hazily framed his vision, as foggy as mud and as liquid as water. From the blur, he could predict nothing, and he found no comfort in it. Even his present sight blurred, and every movement seemed slow, and yet felt overwhelmingly fast.

Viola Mae shifted next to him, bringing a mug to her lips, tired hair-blinded eyes returned her show. "You planning on going back to sleep?"

He massaged his unbandaged temple and eased himself to sit more comfortably against the pillows. "I don't know." He squinted at the T.V in the aim to ground himself, but everything was hazy. If he remained still, it was as if his head was floating, for he felt nothing from his body, and from his head, experienced only dizziness. "Did you give me something?"

She nodded, lips pursed. "Sorry. I... You kept grimacing and shuddering and whimpering, and I couldn't tell if it was just bad dreams or if you were suffering. Do you want coffee?"

Tobias blinked. He glanced at Teddy, then around the dark room, then to the television. It was one of those late-night shows that only a small few amnesiacs cared to watch. One of Viola Mae's favorites, he remembered, recognizing the end credit theme as the characters blinked out. He had learned all the episode summaries off the internet. "What time is it?"

She shrugged and brushed her hair back. "Episode just ended, so..." Her dimples lifted alternatingly, lips pulling back and forth like a pendulum. "Half-past one? Or two. I can't remember if it's been two episodes or one."

"In the morning?" Tobias asked, brows raising. They exchanged glances, Viola Mae's brows raising with his. He shrugged mildly. "I'd love a coffee."

She smiled. "All right. Commercial break." The bed squeaked as she rolled off onto her socked feet.

Tobias raised a finger. "Could I have it with—"

"Cream," Viola Mae finished. She pulled her hair away and grinned at his surprise, then plucked his spectacles from the bedside table and tossed them. Flustered, he fumbled to catch them. "It seems like a cream kind of day. Am I right?"

Tobias filled with warmth and bashfully wiped the wet of his eyes before sliding the glasses up his nose. "You have no idea," he expressed breathlessly, "how much that means to me."

"Benjamin still trying to stick you with his tea?" She hung in the door frame to catch his response.

"It's..." He chuckled and pressed his specs against the bridge of his nose. "It's tiresome."

"Did you ever figure out about his mysterious tea donor?" Her hands waved in front of her and she pointed at him. "Think about it and tell me when I'm back. Commercial breaks only last so long."

Tobias nodded and watched her leave. Even in the dizziness, he was vaguely aware of a smile on his lips. He touched it, just to make sure that it was real. This was one moment that the man would always appreciate. It was before he had plans, and after his escape from miserable company. It was during the time when he had true friends, and before he hurt them. The only person in Tobias's future who would know how he liked his coffee, with or without cream and when, remains to be me.

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Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked, giving his wandering mind something to focus on. Teddy stirred next to him and Tobias peered over. Tick, tick, tick.

"Teddy?" Tobias whispered. With no response, he cast his eyes to the television, rubbing goosebumps on his arms. It didn't feel right to be alone in the dark in someone else's house, no matter how many times he had seen the guest room before.

He closed his eyes and looked to his future sight, but it was useless. He pushed up his glasses, though it wasn't necessary. Tick, tick, tick. He lifted the covers to look at his state, but there wasn't enough light to see. He felt his chest and frowned. The thing about being disoriented is that the right questions always seem to come late.

"Whose shirt is this?" he asked. The smell of Berry Belts was in the air. "Viola Mae? Where did these clothes come from? Did you undress me? Did you dress me?" He rubbed his cheek in circles. "Viola Mae..." he squeaked, looking anxiously around the silent, lonely room.

She appeared, scowling, in the middle of the carpet beside the bed, holding a parcel to her chest. Startled, he pulled the covers towards himself, clutching them at his throat.

"I thought you couldn't see me when I'm invisible, even with your powers."

His heart took a handful of beats to slow and he lowered the blankets, exhaling in relief. "I can't," he said. "You smell like that awful candy. It's a giveaway."

"Berry Belts!" Viola Mae grinned. "You want one?"

"I'll eat anything right now. I'd love one." He took a breath and frowned. "Were you spying on me?"

"I was trying to surprise you." She rolled her eyes and held up the parcel. "Your birthday present." It landed lightly next to him and she loped out of the room again.

Tobias pulled it onto his lap and started gingerly picking at the tape. The wrapping paper was a chaotic jumble of letters and corresponding animals, such as G and a giraffe, and it made it made him snigger. Until the sounds of the television drained his face of color and stole his full attention.

"It is coming onto the fourth day since Central Benediction, specifically top Non-Typical justice team Defiance, lost the hero Tobias MacClain, better known by his alias Chance, or his nickname "Pajama Boy"."

Tobias scowled.

"Here's a replay of the incident, for those who missed it."

The volcanic island swiveled into the frame, belching with smoke and spouting lava. Beads of sweat formed on Tobias's brow. The camera followed Mr. Might with the governess's daughter and Vine Voodoo slung over his shoulders as he bounded for the retreating plane with lava chasing his heels. It panned outwards to capture the power of the disaster, and Tobias watched in horror as the lava burst outwards, spread everywhere, encased everything in heat and red and smoke. And the clip ended, and the news reporter resumed, and Tobias stared.

"Where's the rest of it?" he whispered. His face burned and he clenched his fists. "Where's the rest of it?"

"The rest of what?" Viola Mae stopped in the doorway with a mug and an oven mitt.

His jaw hung and he shook his head, eyes returning to the screen.

Mr. Might had arrested Hephaestus Hellfire, the anchor reported. So what? The public cared so infuriatingly much. And on the television Benediction's mightiest hero had the audacity to say it was for Tobias. As if Hephaestus Hellfire had anything to do with it. The villain hadn't caused the eruption or thrown the rock that pinned Tobias down and took his leg, the villain hadn't even seen him. If Tobias wanted anyone arrested, it was Benjamin Jones himself, and Poppy Tris. She didn't deserve as long a sentence, but nonetheless, she was an asshole.

The screen blinked out before the interview with Mr. Might could continue.

"Hey!" Tobias barked, straightening. Viola Mae held the remote, head shaking.

"You can't watch that," she said.

"I'm not one of your students, don't treat me like a child."

She sat next to him and reached for his cheek. He flinched away.

"I'm not treating you like a child. I'm treating you like my friend." She turned his head to make him look at her. "You don't need anymore stress. We all know the news is full of one-sided stories."

His jaw clenched and he cast his gaze bitterly downwards. "He never even apologized for putting you out of duty."

"Tobias," Viola Mae sighed. She passed him the mug of coffee, with cream, and leaned back against the pillows. "It's fine. It's been four years. And, you know, I like working at the school. It's kind of a nice change of pace."

"It is not fine," Tobias snapped. He sipped the drink and muttered a quiet thank you before he continued. "You're just too kind and forgiving, you always are. When a decent person causes another person an inconvenience, they apologize. Benjamin Jones never does. It was always us that got the brunt of his rash actions. Always! And then—and then he took it too far and—"

"That's why you're so mad at him?" Viola Mae interrupted. She leaned forward again to gape at his glower. "That's it! That's why you've been so mad at him! Tobias!" She dragged her hand down her face and pushed her hair back. "My injury was as much my own fault as it was his. I don't hold anything against him for it, and you shouldn't either. Why didn't you tell me? It has been four years since the accident. We tell each other everything."

Tobias clutched the mug in both hands and held the steam under his nose. "Doesn't matter," he muttered quickly.

"It matters to me."

They sat silently for a while. Tobias intermittently sipped his coffee, Viola Mae reclaimed her own. She offered him the oven mitt for his hand, but whatever pain he may have felt from his burns was muted by whatever painkiller she had given him and he declined.

Eventually, Viola Mae passed him a Berry Belt and held onto one end when he timidly took the other. He looked at her sullenly.

"Peace offering?"

He sighed. "Accepted." She released the candy to him and he chewed off an end.

"Why don't you go on and open your present? I think it might be comforting right about now."

Tobias pushed at his spectacles and sighed again. He passed the coffee and the candy to Viola Mae to place on the nightstand and resumed tediously unpicking the tape.

Viola Mae swiped her fingers across it, shredding the paper and revealing the gift inside much faster. Tobias frowned at her, then tore the paper the rest of the way. His eyes sparkled, and his lips twitched slightly upwards.

The robe was a plain royal red, the same as his one back at home, the same as the one she got him every year and never—never—told him where to buy. He once asked me if I could find out, because he liked to have a new one every year, because it felt softer and warmer, and reminded him of the hugs from the people that he missed.

He unfolded it and pulled it around himself like a blanket. There were slippers, too. Matching, with extra fluffy toes. He purred softly and sunk into the robe's caress. Viola Mae leaned over to give him a squeeze, but he winced at the touch and she pulled hastily away, searching him worriedly.

He pulled the robe tighter around himself and sunk into its fabric until his face was hidden. He pressed it to his face, pushing his glasses out of the way, and silently screamed. A long, shaking, angry, sad mess of a concealed breath, complete with concealed tears.

"Tobias?" Her hand fell on his undamaged shoulder blade. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, letting the material soak up his misery before he lowered it. He smiled at her, but the corners of his eyes still prickled. "I'm fine," he said.

But Tobias was not. Even on painkillers, some of the burns, especially the ones on his torso, had flared at touch. Though the sting was mild now, Tobias couldn't help but wonder if it would be strong when the painkillers wore off. He wondered if he would ever hug her again, or experience one of Teddy's overzealous signature Teddy bear hugs without cringing and pleading to stop. He dreaded what would become of him, and began to imagine in a future where he would, inevitably, be alone.