Whumph. Whumph. WHUMPH.

Each successive sound of Deveron Adams’ fists impacting the magically reinforced punching bag grew louder. The bag, meant to withstand the increased (and sometimes outright extreme) strength of the students who used it, still strained under the abuse that the deceptively young-looking boy was inflicting upon it. The material kept taking longer to reset after each punishing blow left it slightly deformed. Yet the man-in-a-boy’s body hardly noticed. Mostly because it wasn’t the bag that he saw in his mind as his fists kept hitting it over and over again.

Gabriel Ruthers. Gabriel fucking Ruthers. He saw the man’s face, his ugly, bulldog looking son of a bitch face with every swing of his fist. Every time he hit the bag, he saw the piece of shit.

Thud. Thud. THUD.

The sound changed. Somehow, without conscious thought, Deveron’s fists had moved from the bag to the nearby wall. It was even more reinforced than the bag was, meant to allow the students to train without bringing the room down on top of themselves. Even then, however, his fists left marks, cracks in the wall that spread a bit every time he hit it. THUD. The crack widened. THUD. The wall was literally starting to break apart under the force of his blows.

“Mr. Adams!” A voice called over the sound of Deveron’s fist hitting the wall that time. Leaving it there, he turned slightly to look over his shoulder while panting a little bit from the exertion.

“I’d ask if you’re alright,” Professor Liam Mason started with a raised eyebrow as he took a step further into the room, “but maybe I should be asking the wall that question instead.”

Deveron’s eyes narrowed despite himself, and he tightened his fist as it rested against the cracked wall. Of all the people he most didn’t want to see in that moment, this one ranked only a couple below the top. When he spoke, his voice was tight. “I’m a little busy, Professor.”

“Hey.” The man kept walking to him, stopping just short of where Deveron was standing. “I’m just gonna let the tone go, cuz… believe me, I know exactly what you’re feeling right now.”

“You know what?” Turning to look at him more fully, Deveron lowered his hand from the wall, keeping his voice as measured and even as he could manage. “I seriously doubt that.”

Liam squinted at him. “No?” Gesturing toward a nearby weight bench, the man made it slide across the room before taking a seat. “My daughter’s out there, Mr. Adams. I know how bad you feel about her, and about Chambers. And the others. You probably feel responsible. But you shouldn’t. Yes, you are their mentor. But you couldn’t have stopped this. You and Miss Dupont were ambushed. You’re lucky to still be alive right now. Believe me, no one blames you.”

“Look,” Deveron managed after taking a second to collect himself and resist the urge to do something incredibly rash in that moment. “I respect what you’re trying to do. But you are seriously barking up the wrong tree. I don’t need your guidance, or your suggestions, or your empathy. I don’t need anything from you. And you don’t know what I’m feeling right now.”

“Mr. Adams,” Liam retorted, “my daughter is one of the people you’re worried about. My daughter. I respect how much you clearly care for your charges. But don’t try to say that you are more worried about them than I am. You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to have your own child torn away from you, to not know where they are or how to protect them.”

He couldn’t understand? The words reverberated around inside of Deveron’s head. He couldn’t understand what that was like, what it was like to have his child taken away like that? This man, this man had the nerve, the nerve to say that? The man who was responsible for everything that had happened, the man whose betrayal had brought the rebellion out of the shadows before they were ready, and had ultimately led to… to… everything that happened?

Yes, Deveron remembered. He hadn’t at first, not for quite awhile, in fact. But his memory of Liam the traitor had eventually begun to return. It was helped along by Jonathon. Or Klassin, whatever he was calling himself now. The Crossroads therapist had noticed the increasing looks that Deveron was giving Liam as his memory returned, and had interceded in time to confirm the memories that were returning. And, of course, to talk Deveron down from doing anything rash.

Honestly, very few of the people who knew them in their school days would ever have believed that Deveron would be talked out of doing something rash by Jonathon Ruthers. Or that the two of them would have spent many nights of the past month or so having long conversations about the past… and about Joselyn. Mostly because so few knew about Jonathon’s change of heart, or the fact that he’d spent most of the war spying on his father for the rebellion. For Joselyn.

But it had happened. And it was only Jonathon’s presence that had stopped Deveron from doing something rash as the memories of just how much Liam was responsible for had returned.

But Jonathon wasn’t here right now. Liam was. And he was seriously pushing his luck.

“You really think so, Professor?” Deveron started in a quiet voice, barely able to restrain his urge to finish putting a hole in the nearby wall by grabbing the back of the other man’s neck and shoving his head through it. “Because you know what I think? I think you–”

“There you are!” The bright, chipper voice from the doorway interrupted Deveron just in time. Nevada bounced in, grinning brightly, as if she had no idea what she had just walked in on. “Deveron, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, we need to talk about that project.”

“He’s a second year student,” Liam pointed out. “You only teach a first year subject.”

Taking Deveron by the arm, the blonde woman dragged him out of the room, calling back over her shoulder, “Never said it was a project for class! Thanks for keeping him company though!”

The two walked in silence for a couple of minutes then, Deveron almost growling with each step as he fought to get himself under control. Despite the fact that both took the time to use abilities that would ensure they weren’t overheard, Nevada still stayed quiet. She was clearly letting him get his thoughts in order, which he didn’t manage until they were partway across the grounds.

Finally, he spoke in a dark voice. “If he keeps pushing and trying to be my mentor, buddy, or whatever the hell he’s going for, I swear, I…” Stopping himself, he let out a long, low breath.

“It’s been worse since Flick and the others disappeared, hasn’t it?” Nevada asked quietly.

“I just–” Deveron stopped, sighing as he lowered his head and tightened his hands into fists once more. “One thing. She asked me to do one thing: protect Felicity. She trusted me to protect her, Nevada. She trusted me, and I couldn’t–I wasn’t even… I couldn’t…” Unable to continue, he raised his clenched hands to his face and shuddered, making a gutteral sound deep in his throat. “I can’t get to her now. I can’t find her, I don’t even know what’s happening to her. If they-”

Nevada’s head shook, her expression soft. “Deveron, stop. There are plenty of reasons for you to be angry with Liam, but he wasn’t wrong about what he was trying to say. This wasn’t your fault. And I know I didn’t know Joselyn, but… but I’m pretty sure she’d know that too. Flick and the others disappearing is awful, but they’re not dead. Remember, Wyatt would know if anything… too bad happened to Sands or Flick. But you doing anything to blow your cover or get yourself in trouble with the Committee by attacking a teacher, that would be your fault.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I know,” Deveron replied flatly, lowering his hands from his face as he fought to find the right words. “He’s just… he’s right there, and he had to bring up losing kids. His words, that I wouldn’t understand what it was like to have a missing kid. After what he did, he has the fucking nerve t-”

Stopping abruptly, in mid-word, he gave a violent shake of his head. “That piece of shit is lucky I didn’t put his teeth out right then and there. I just…” The anger drained out of him, as he slumped a little while lowering his head. His voice was softer. “She asked me to look after Felicity. And I couldn’t do it, because I wasn’t there. Just like I wasn’t there when that… that son of a bitch took our kids. They took our children, Nevada. And then they took my wife away too.”

Wincing, Nevada nodded, watching him sympathetically. “Your kids are alive though,” she offered softly, “Wyatt and Abigail, they’re both alive. They grew up into amazing people.”

“Yeah,” Deveron replied in a barely audible voice as he stared at the ground. “They are more than amazing. But you’ve seen Wyatt. You know how he grew up, what made him so paranoid. The things he went through while growing up, he… I should’ve been there. I should have found him. I just–I couldn’t. I couldn’t find him. I couldn’t find either of them. And now I can’t find Flick. I can’t go to her. I can’t do a goddamn thing!” His voice had risen by the end, as he trembled.

Turning to look at the former djinn then, he added, “All my life, I’ve wanted to be a father. I’ve wanted to… to hold my children, my babies. I know… I know that Abigail and Wyatt are amazing. So is Koren. I have a granddaughter, a granddaughter. But I didn’t… I didn’t get to raise them. I didn’t get to guide them. I didn’t get to help them walk, teach them to ride a bike, see them lose their first teeth, tell them stories, check for monsters under their beds…I…”

His eyes closed, tears leaking through. “I didn’t get to raise my kids. I didn’t get to hold them when they were scared. I didn’t get to… I didn’t get to watch them grow up, and learn. They took that away from me, away from us. Ruthers took that away. And Liam helped make it happen.”

“You’re right,” Nevada agreed. “He took a lot away from you. And even if he didn’t mean for it to happen the way he did, Liam was responsible for dragging the rebellion out of the… the shadows. He… he did a lot of bad things, whether he meant to or not. So yeah, I don’t blame you for wanting to… to hurt him. I don’t blame you for almost losing it, because yeah, Flick and the others are missing. They’re… they’re a long ways off. But you can’t just give up on them. They’re alive, and everyone’s working on ways to bring them back. They will come back.”

Deveron smiled faintly. “Yeah… you’re right, I know. I just feel so goddamn useless right now.”

Her head shook. “You’re not useless, Deveron. You–I might not have remembered your face exactly. But I always remembered what you did. You saved my life. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. All these hybrids who can go to this school now, who have become Heretics, they couldn’t if it wasn’t for you. If the rebellion succeeds next time, it’ll be because of the hybrids that you helped turn into Heretics. That’s what you did. Because you didn’t give up. Even after they took your kids, even after Joselyn was taken, you never gave up. And you can’t give up now.”

“Believe me,” he replied, “I am nowhere near giving up. Frustrated, pissed off, really close to beating Liam senseless with one of those barbells in there? Sure, all of the above. But giving up? Not a chance in hell. I just wish I knew a way to contribute right now. Joselyn was always the planner. Even finding you, getting you to fix the Edge, that was her idea. I mean, not you specifically, but the goal itself. She was the one who knew that getting hybrids in as students was the way to win the war in the end. We just managed to find a way to put it into action.”

Glancing sidelong at the woman then, he added slowly, “Which was really thanks to you more than me. I just gave you a chance. And speaking of that whole thing, we should see about fixing your memory. Just in case there’s still some holes that might end up being relevant later.”

“Can you actually do that?” Nevada asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him curiously.

“Not by myself I can’t, no,” Deveron replied while shaking his head. “I’m not the one who cast it. We’ll have to visit Gabriel Prosser for that. Which… I really need to do anyway. I want to talk to Flick’s father myself. It’s about time that he and I had an actual conversation about everything that’s happened. And, well, if you come with, I’m sure he’d take the memory spell off you.”

“Sure,” Nevada agreed with a nod. “I’ll keep you company when you visit Flick’s dad. Hell, even if Prosser wasn’t there, I’d still go. After everything I’ve heard about Joselyn, and what I’ve seen from Flick, I want to meet Lincoln. And he deserves to have people telling him the truth about what’s happening, keeping him up to date. We owe him that much. Hell, we owe him more.”

“More than we can ever give him,” Deveron murmured before shaking that off. “But I suppose that’ll wait a little longer. For now, do you want to tell me why you led me out here?” As he spoke, the man gestured vaguely at the beach that the two of them had gradually walked to.

“Oh,” Nevada giggled, clearly despite herself as she glanced around. “I guess you noticed that after all, huh? And here I thought I was being all sneaky and making it look random. Damn.”

“It was pretty good,” Deveron replied, “but yeah, I could tell. So what’re we doing down here?”

“We aren’t doing anything,” she informed him. “You, however, are going on a little picnic.”

Blinking at that, Deveron gave her a curious look. “You’re sending me on a picnic by myself?”

The blonde woman shook her head. “Nope. Not by yourself. With them.” She raised a hand then, pointing to two figures who were waiting just around the corner as they approached.

He looked that way, feeling his heart skip abruptly, as it always did when he saw the two in question. “Wyatt,” he breathed out. “Wyatt and Koren.” His son and his granddaughter.

“Yeah.” Nevada smiled faintly, waving for the others to join them. “You miss Felicity. That’s understandable. But you still have family here, Deveron. Gaia and I thought you might want to spend some time with them. So this,” she reached into her pocket, retrieving a pair of rings, which she handed to him. “First one opens a portal to a park somewhere totally safe and anonymous, where you won’t be recognized. The other one brings you back here.”

Closing his hand around the rings, Deveron swallowed hard before looking over at the approaching pair. He focused on his grown son, seeing the tiny, chubby baby that he remembered for a moment before shaking that off. “You sure you’re okay with being pulled away from your duties for that long, Wyatt?”

The man’s mouth opened, but Koren stepped on his foot while pointedly replying, “Uncle Wyatt’s taking a break before I have to hogtie him. There’s nothing else he can do right now, and there’s an entire security force watching over the rest of the school in case anything else happens. And yeah,” she added with a wink, “I did mention hogtying him just to hear him make that indignant squawk.”

For his part, Wyatt squinted at the girl who had become his almost ever-present companion outside of classes recently. “I’ve got my eyes on you,” he informed her. “I see you with a rope, and we’ll see which one of us gets hogtied, Missy. Don’t you forget what happened the last time you tried your little ambush. Next time, maybe I’ll just make you stay a hamster for a little while.”

Lifting her chin, the brunette made a huffing noise at that. “I almost had you that time. I’m learning your tricks, old man. Just a little more time and I’ll have you.”

Clearing his throat, Deveron stepped in then. “Before Koren pushes her luck too far and ends up having to spend the next week as a turtle or something, I was told something about a picnic in a park?”

The girl gave a quick head bob. “Yeah! And Mom’s gonna be there too.”

“Abigail…” Deveron breathed out, gaze snapping over toward Nevada questioningly.

“That’s right,” the woman confirmed. “Gaia worked it out with Seller. She’s probably already at the park waiting for you guys. Like I said, you’ve still got family here, and you should be able to spend time with them. Take as long as you need. We’ll cover for all of you here.”

A picnic… with his children and grandchild. Deveron swallowed a thick lump in his throat, giving a little shudder despite himself as a series of tumultuous emotions worked their way through him. He could talk to Koren as much as he wanted, of course. And he’d been conversing with Abigail over the phone, and with Wyatt through passed notes. But actually spending an entire afternoon and evening together in the same place? It made him simultaneously happy, and unbelievably sad.

Joselyn. He wanted Joselyn to be there. He wanted their entire family to be reunited. He wanted… a lot of things that would never happen, and some that still could.

“Alright, guys,” Deveron announced then, “let’s go meet Abigail and have a picnic in the park.”

It wasn’t perfect, not by any means. Flick was missing, Joselyn was still a prisoner of that monster, his twins were grown and had gone through their own lives and tragedies without him… but it was something. He had his children. He had his grandchild. And as far as the rest of it went, it was just a matter of time.

Now if only he could continue to resist the urge to put Liam in the hospital…