"Ok. You can speak now." Kaykes said with a raised eyebrow and a self satisfied air. "Mom currently thinks Vicky let you down hard, and that you need some time alone. She's also deeply disappointed in her prospects for grandchildren and is already planning Operation Rebound AND Operation Yenta. Kaykes grinned.

"You... ah. You talked her down from all of that right?"

Kaykes snorted. "Some things, a man has to do for himself, bro. The fallout is going to be glorious."

Jimmy was sitting on Kaykes' bed, slouched against the wall, as Kaykes sauntered into her room, kicked her chair over into position and sat in it forcefully enough that it spun her in a full circle before aligning with him again. When it stopped, her hands were steepled in front of her face and she was eyeing him dramatically.

Jimmy knew what she was doing. When he'd jumped into his mother's car he'd been white as a sheet and hadn't answered any questions no matter how urgently she'd asked. He'd been tense, spooked, very angry and practically shivering at how closely and casually he'd come to being caught.

So Kaykes was... being Kaykes. Just more dramatically than usual. Making light. Easing the tension. Turning her room into an assuring and safe space. And just because he knew what she was doing, didn't mean he couldn't let it work.

He grinned, and eyed her. He felt his muscles un-tensing. "You're the best little sister, you know that?"

Kaykes blinked. "Say... ah... what now? Are you feeling alright?"

He kept grinning. "The entire time, I had your voice in my head. Probably saved my skin several times there at the end.

"Oh, god. Oh no. You can't attribute random shit in your head to me, bro! You probably imagined me saying the dumbest shit. Ugh."

Jimmy laughed. It was getting easier. "I dunno. how does 'Nothing at all suspicious about a boy wandering around and texting' sound?"

Kaykes scratched her nose and paused. "Actually, that does sound like me." She said presently. "You do know, that just because there's nothing suspicious about having a dumb grin on your face, doesn't mean you need to—"

Jimmy threw her pillow at her and they both laughed. Easier. Far easier. Jimmy felt something in his chest loosening.

It was working. Good. So Jimmy told her what happened.

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

"Well fuck."

"Fudge." Jimmy agreed

"Fuckety fuck fuck."

"Just because you have the enviable gift of cursing doesn't mean you need to use them so unsparingly."

"Sue me. Dude." Kaykes leaned back in her seat and eyed her ceiling constellation of glow in the dark stars and planets. "What's killing me is that it doesn't even make sense!"

Jimmy raised both eyebrow — mostly because he also didn't have the gift of raising one. "I've got some thoughts too," he said.

"Oh? Share."

"It wasn't Vicky." Jimmy paused. "I don't think..."

But Kaykes was nodding in that 'get-on-with-it' fashion.

"She had plenty of opportunities today at the park."

Kaykes nodded.

"Buck doesn't make sense."

Kaykes nodded again.

"Because he's the last person the FBI would be using to catch me in a sting. They'd know I'd see him and bolt."

Kaykes raised another eyebrow. "Which you did. Maybe that's what they were looking for?"

Jimmy smirked. "Nah. I wandered. And there's nothing at all suspicious about a teenage boy not rushing to engage a random other high schooler in a convo."

Kaykes threw her pillow back at him. "Yea. I'm just being obstreperous. Keep going."

"They know it was The Guy in Buck's house."

"You use the same getup for each job?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I change it up. But I do cover myself up pretty good. When I met Vicky, she said her friend warned about how ah... she called me shady."

Kaykes cackled. "Medical gloves might be a step too far."

"Medical gloves are why there aren't any finger prints at Bucks house."

"And shady. We're on the same page." Kaykes continued. "Two thoughts come to mind. They've interviewed at least one person who led them to the guy. Buck hasn't been at school and I can't fathom why."

"Think they're keeping him away?" Jimmy blinked. "Wait. You think they're suspicious of him?"

Kaykes shrugged.

"Wait. Wait. You think Buck is a Super?"

"Fuck if I know." She rolled her eyes. "With how many Super's are popping up in Eastwall now, I'd at least entertain the notion that Mom's a Super."

Jimmy blinked. Mom?

"She's not! I'm making a point. The point is, that there's not really evidence for that, and it doesn't change any equations. It doesn't answer why he's not been at school. Or why the agents used him as part of a sting. It's just stupid Availability Heuristic trash."

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

"It will be glorious!" The bearded man was saying. "Simply magnificent. A work of craft not seen since the first bearded man donned the very first hat and wondered."

The Boy nodded eagerly.

"You will use it wisely." Bushy eyebrow lowered in The Boy's direction. "And grandly. You have the juice. But I picked you for the spirit. The Gumption." Two eyes twinkled into his own with such intensity that The Boy wanted to look away.

"Of course, ah... sir." Then he did look away, because the eyes hurt and he shifted uncomfortably on the stool where he sat.

They'd... done something to him. He couldn't say how he knew this except to say that somehow he was Aware of it.

He didn't know what. And a part of him wanted to know what. But most of him didn't mind. A small part of him babbled way back in the corner of his brain that he really should mind and quite a lot, but the majority of him also had decided that it was a foolish little part of him, and he was going to ignore it. So he did.

He was going to be grand. And he was going to —

"—Save countless errant souls," The Man finished for him.

The Man was short. He had a long grey beard that would have fallen all the way down to his knobby knees if the man stood up — and if Jimmy could see his knees in the first place, which he wouldn't have been able to.

The Man wore a flowing robe in a shade of ocean green worked with gold, and a wide brimmed, grey hat sat low on his forehead with a trunk that reached up, and curved back down a little behind him into a tip.

And... he sat in the most ornate, plush armchair that Jimmy had ever seen. It was so ornate that it almost seemed like it should in fact have been called a throne.

The bearded man called it an armchair. And he treated it like one too. His back and neck were propped up on one of the arms and his slippered feet were propped up on the other. And floating in front of the man's bushy eyebrows were three rolls of parchment held open by... nothing, which he was scribbling furiously on and a tea cup which bobbed shallowly in the air off to his left in easy reaching distance but, notably, not easy knocking over distance.

And none of this seemed at all out of the ordinary to The Boy.

This was... how things were. Why shouldn't parchments present themselves willingly to be scribbled in? Why shouldn't tea cups wait patiently to be drunk? Why shouldn't lounge chairs be so... ostentatious? Why shouldn't beards reach all the way to knees and why in the world should hats so large ever, ever come off their owners heads?

"Why, they shouldn't, my boy, they are hats! Not gloves."

"Ah!" The Boy smiled and nodded agreeably.

"But they do grow rather heavy at times," The Man added, stroking his beard soberly. He pierced The Boy with glimmering eyes. "I expect you will find this too, my boy. Sometimes I wish...." But he just shook his head and continued scribbling on the floating parchments.

"I'll be grand," The Boy repeated into the silence that descended. "I'll save hundreds... no thousands of errant souls."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"I expect you will, lad," The Man muttered into his beard as he wrote. "I expect you will. If only you'd been born in a younger time. A different Lad. A different boy —"

He was drawing something now. His quill motions were too smooth and long to be letters, and it almost looked like he was drawing both above and through the page as well, though The Boy never saw the quill actually peirce the fabric.

"What a W—

"It's time."

"—d you would you be."

The Boy jumped and glared as A Woman clad in all black with a steepled hat spoke from the open doorway.

The Boy didn't like this woman. Though he couldn't really say why. The Woman stared back into his gaze unflinchingly and the Blackness behind her eyes made The Boy look away first.

"Give it to him, Borengirdle. You quibble over nuance and recheck thrice checked work dozens have poured over."

The Bearded man harrumphed. But he slowly got up from his throneArmchair, brushed off his robe, though it needed none, and solemnly carried the first parchment to The Boy.

"Read it," He said.

And the boy did. All of it. It took him hours, though The Boy couldn't say how he knew that or why a single page of parchment took him so long. And afterwards The Boy also couldn't say what exactly it was that he had read.

"You have to agree."

"I do."

The Woman hmmed from the doorway and The Man nodded, his beard wagging by his knees. He handed The Boy the next parchment. And the next.

After each one The Boy said. "I do."

And then the man reached deep into his robe and pulled out a fourth and there was something Different about this one. More than all the others.

"This is the gift I gift to thee." The Bearded Man muttered gravely, slowly passing this new parchment to The Boy. "Thrice spoken, fourth unbroken. I gathered thee to fight for me, an' so thee shall and never flee. Take this contract if thee dare and use it wisely but without spare.

The Boy gripped it in both hands. It was sealed, he saw, by wax and gold and something More. And the words carved into the gold burned under his gaze. They read —

Servitors, I Art Thine Master

And The Boy thought it was W—

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

Kaykes' eyes blinked up at him sleepily. "Jimmy? Ah. Wha —" She started to sit up.

Jimmy blinked down at her too. "Ahh. K-Kaykes? What are you doing in my bed?"

"... What are you doing in my room? What are... Where...."

They both looked around bewildered. Kaykes, from her bed, and Jimmy from where he was standing over her bed. And they saw... nothing.

The walls were stripped bare. There were no posters. No constellations of stars and planets on the walls and ceiling and no books on... a bookshelf that also wasn't there. It was all missing.

The office chair that Kaykes usually sat in and passed judgement from was no where to be found and neither were all the little doodad and nicknacks that made her room hers. And they weren't hers. Not —

Jimmy eyed the closet's open door, and even in the dim light streaming through the window, something about the closet seemed Empty to Jimmy.

— anymore.

"Jimmy." Kaykes' voice was edged like a razor. "Did you take my stuff? Where. Are my things?" She jumped up. Her night clothes were rumpled, but her eyes blazed.

"I..." Jimmy backed up. He shook his head hard. It was like he was waking up from some sort of deep sleep, or a daze. "I — your stuff. Ah, I didn't — I..." He shook his head again. Harder this time. He felt his eyes twitching and his fists opened and closed uselessly by his side.

'Why can't I talk? Why can't I —' But, of course, Jimmy knew why. He could feel them.

All of Kaykes' things. Her books, her homework, her backpack of notes, calculator, lint and notes people passed her in class. Her constellations and wall posters.

Her clothes. Her desk. "K-keep your voice down," he muttered faintly. He could feel them. Kaykes'HIS things.

"My — My voice?" Kaykes was advancing on him. Her fists balled. "My voice? Jimmy. GIVE. Me. BACK. My. Computer!"

"I — I can't. Thats not —"

"If you say 'That's not how this works.' I'm going to kill you, you fucker. Make it —"

"Your voice!" Jimmy begged desperately. "Please. You'll wake up mom —"

"I'll wake up the whole damn neighborhood!" She grabbed him by his shirt. "Give it ba—"

He grabbed back at her desperately. Trying to cover her mouth. "Shh —SHH OW!"

She bit him. Then started punching and kicking at him.

"Jimmy! Give! Me! Back! M—

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

"Jimmy?" Kaykes' voice was soft, but clearly audible in the stillness. So was the weight to her tone. Her eyes were narrowed and they tilted up at him skeptically. "What are you doing?"

Jimmy blinked back at her, uncomprehending. His heart thudded. "I... ah... I'm sorry Kaykes'. I—" Wait a minute.... This wasn't Kaykes' room....

This was — Jimmy looked around. He was in the living room. Downstairs.

He was wearing a jacket and his shoes were on and.... He licked his lips. "I—is this the dream? or the last one?"

He felt around in his pocket hurriedly. He couldn't feel a super computer, he thought.

"Does it feel like a dream?"

"How... does a dream... usually feel?"

"Ok. Well how about you dream yourself, in this dream, back to bed. Huh?"

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably where he stood but didn't move. "Do something you wouldn't do in a dream." He hissed.

Kaykes' eyebrows rose. "Ok." And she reached behind her and pulled from somewhere a wooden baseball bat and hefted it. "How's this?"

Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief. 'Ok. Definitely a dream'.

And then she kicked him in the shins and it HURT.

"OW!" Jimmy stifled a yelp and pranced back fo-cursing. "What the fudgsicle, Kaykes!"

"Dream yourself back upstairs, Jimmy." His sister said levelly. And hefted the bat.

Jimmy glared at her. "No!" He hissed back. "You can't just attack me in m— o— mom and dads' house!"

"Try me."

"I'll just card the bat away from you! I'll turn it into a fourth stick of bludgeoning! Get away from me!"

"Do it." She dared.

Jimmy glared at her.

"You weren't listening to me, were you Itch!" His sister's mouth curled into a snarl. "You didn't take me seriously."

"I'm Jimmy —"

"— I told you I'd burn you out of him if —

Jimmy groaned. "Not this again. I told you. It doesn't work that way!"

"Oh yea?" Kaykes eyes burned. "Then tell me, bro. What are you doing down here at twelve o'clock at night?"

Jimmy froze.

"Do you even know?"

Jimmy... did know.

His sister noticed. "See my brother is not a fucking idiot, Itch. He wouldn't be stupid enough, to disappear in the dead of night after a stupid bike tha —"

"It wasn't!" Jimmy breathed. It wasn't a stupid bike!" he hissed. "It. Was. MINE. And they took it." Jimmy's fists clenched, and his fingers twisted in on themselves. One of them was in his pocket, he realized.

Brick... For Brick Things

He pulled it out of his pocket hurriedly but his voice was no less fierce. "It was a Stead of Steel and Grease. It —"

"That even sounds stupid, bro!"

Jimmy almost hit her.

Kaykes noticed. "You aren't right." She said. "It's the Itch! It's making you do this!"

"No. Kaykes." Jimmy whispered. "This is me. And I'm tired. I'm so hungry. They took my steed. And it HURTS. They're hunting me. And it HURTS. They —" He glared at her. "I'm getting my steed back." Jimmy growled. He spun to the door and —

Kaykes bonked him on the head with the bat.

It HURT.

Jimmy almost screamed. He spun back around swiping at the —

But Kaykes danced away, keeping the bat out of reach.

Jimmy swiped again furious, and Kaykes kicked him in the shins.

They did that again and again. Silently — so silently. But furiously.

"I want my brother back." Kaykes hissed at him.

"I am your brother! What happened to all that peachy carrots and human monologue you were spouting!"

"What happened to compromising!" She hissed back. "You'll be caught! Why is that a good thing?!"

They eyed each other, both breathing heavily in the darkness of the living room.

"Dude." Kaykes said. "They took your bike for a reason. They aren't stupid. No normal kid would go after a dumb bike that someone stole!"

"Neither would a Super!"

"So what? They probably stole it to see what you'd do in the moment. But you know what? If it disappears in the dead of night, there's only one person they're suspecting! This. Is. Stupid."

Jimmy snarled. Something was burning in his chest. It was searing across his bones. His.

Kaykes noticed. "And what about me?" She said, spreading her arms. "What about Mom and Dad? And your friends? I'm your sister! Aren't we yours too?"

They were. Jimmy knew this. Though not the same way. The Itch knew this.

"I can't believe I'm saying this — what about Vicky?"

Jimmy froze, and Kaykes, of course, noticed.

She nodded with a complicated expression on her dimly lit face. "You go get your bike, you will never see her again."

Jimmy spun away, snarling. There was the door. There. Was the door.

"I can feel it, Kaykes." Jimmy whispered presently. He pointed at an angle through one of the walls. "It's right. There. A little piece of Me." He said. "And they have it. I can't not go. Maybe that makes me Virelze, Kaykes. Maybe it makes you all carrots. But if someone stole even your little finger, what would you not do to get it back?"

"My f-finger? Quite a lot, dude. I've got the rest of my hand!"

Jimmy grimaced. "Bad analogy."

"You take one step to that door, and I'm knocking you out so hard you wont wake up for a week."

Jimmy paused, one hand on the door handle. He hadn't realized he'd reached for it. "Then do it." He said at last. "I'm getting my bike back." and he opened the door and stepped through.

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

Jimmy expected a lot of things when he darted out.

He expected to feel the hot flash of the bat hitting his head, and he didn't.

He expected to hear his sister raise her voice and call down their mother from upstairs. And didn't hear it.

Part of him wouldn't have even been surprised if Rosette showed up, or the dragon from the news articles dropped out of the skys.

They, of course didn't.

He expected something, but instead all he felt was the chill wind blowing past his cheek and all he heard was the noisy chirping of the crickets.

This was dumb, he knew. Stupid. He knew that too. It made no real, normal sense. But, nothing had really made sense for months now.

People couldn't own things by turning them to cards, but he could. People didn't starve if they didn't steal, but he did. People could lie and curse and break promises, but he couldn't. And people didn't carry around A Little Bit Of Magic in their pockets... but Jimmy did.

What was retrieving his bike next to all of that?

Stupid. That didn't change. But also right. In a way that only made sense if you looked at it in a wrong way.

Nothing happened as Jimmy walked. Nothing until he got all the way to the end of the street and felt thin arms wrap around his waist in a hug.

He felt his sister's head bounce into his back and stay there. She was breathing heavily.

"I love you, bro." She said. "You're my brother. I don't have another. I don't want another."

"If you go, I'll lose you. You'll get your bike back. I'm sure of it. But then they'll come for you. They'll come and take you away, and I'll never see you another day."

Jimmy heard her sniff into his back.

"Do you know why? Because you're a Super. And humans can't hold Supers. Not in prison. Not anywhere. You're too powerful. So they'll disappear you. Just like Pink Mist. Just like Electra-Coil and Cromagna. Like Everfell and Elesium and all of those Supers no one ever heard from again."

"If you go. You'll get your bike back. But if you go. You'll take my brother from me."

And that... Jimmy did understand. And that, The Itch understood too.

"It hurts, Kaykes."

"I know. Please, come back."

And he did. It took him a while. But in the end, Jimmy turned around, and walked back. Away from that thin line of ownership connecting him to his bike.

And it —

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

Jimmy awoke, gasping and with a hand clutched to his chest.

It. HURT. In a fashion he could not articulate. In a place he couldn't point to.

It. HURT. More than anything else the boy could remember. And almost as much as he could bare.

That thin line of ownership snapped like floss pulled tightly, and Jimmy threw up on the carpet and stayed very, very still for a long time.