CHAPTER 26: SINS OF THE FATHER—PART 1

"Real fatherhood means love and commitment and sacrifice and a willingness to share responsibility and not walking away from one's children."

—William John Bennett.

Are you fucking kidding me?

When Cassandra's brain restarted, that was the first thought that leaped into it, hissing like an alley cat. Or perhaps like a wildcat, because the anger that stalked after the thought was enormous. It filled her up, making her hot enough that she could feel the warmth pouring from her face. It made her wonder if she could set something on fire. If she'd had Mewtwo's powers or, better yet, a can of gasoline at her disposal, she probably would have. She'd been an arson once, after all. She wouldn't even have to use as much gas this time, because there would only be one body to burn.

Then Cassandra saw Florian paling next to the man she was considering turning into a whirling, screaming bonfire, and mentally slapped herself. No. This was not ten years ago. She was not that person anymore. Hell, she'd never even wanted to become that person in the first place. But she was angry, and the thought of falling back into her criminal ways for just an hour was tempting. She wasn't going to be the kind of mother who set people on fire, though. That wasn't a lesson to teach her children, no matter how much this asshole deserved it.

Her father? Really? He thought she was going to believe that? What a load of horse shit. Her father was dead—everyone knew that. She'd known that since she was five, for god's sake. Who did this man think he was? And what the hell did he want? If he was a Rocket infiltrator trying to get close to them and make them let their guard down, just so Giovanni would have an easier time picking them off, then he'd picked the wrong way to go about it. Sure, this man might look like her, but how hard would it have been for Giovanni to find someone with the combination of dark skin, black hair, and grey eyes?

She saw Florian trying to lift a hand to say something. She glared at him to shut him up. There had to be others with that combination. It would be just like Giovanni to find someone who could be a dead ringer for her father. The Rocket Boss had never been subtle with his schemes. He'd always been more of the "smash people with a hammer" type than the "stabbing them in the back" type. The latter was more the kind of shit Domino pulled, and she was too smart for a plan like this. Cassandra might have detested her, but even she would admit that Domino hadn't been stupid. She wouldn't have risen so high in the Elite if she had been.

Whatever. The point was, there was no way in hell that she was this man's daughter. This had to be a trick, no matter what Florian thought. Before she realized what she was doing, she'd stalked forward, ripped Michael's gun from his hand, and had the barrel pressed against the man's chest. His eyes widened with surprise. He went still, scarcely seeming to breathe.

That suited her just fine. "You have five seconds to get off my porch."

"Er, Cassandra, I know you think he's lying, but I can tell when people—"

"Florian. Stop talking." She didn't want to hear that from him. She wanted this man out of her sight.

The man stared at her and slowly raised his hands. "Cassandra, I—I'm unarmed. I'm not going to hurt you or anyone else here. Have this officer search me if you don't—"

There was a click as she began pressing down the trigger. He stopped talking, then opened his mouth again to say something in a slow, would-be-soothing tone. "Okay. Okay, I'm sure you need some time to calm down. I'll go to the Center and we can talk when you're ready. Let me just—" He bent down, leaving his duffle bag in the door frame. "That's yours. I'm going to leave Shadow here, too. He—he's missed you." There was something deeper in his voice then—an undertone of sorrow that was probably calculated to make her doubt herself and hesitate.

But she wouldn't. Cassandra pressed the barrel of the gun to his neck. He straightened and stepped back, keeping his hands up, and kept walking backwards as she stepped forward, following him. He nearly stumbled as he went down the steps. He didn't seem willing to turn his back on her. Smart guy. It was only when they reached the gate that he did. He gave her one last look, then turned and walked quickly down the street to the Pokémon Center.

As he vanished around the corner, Cassandra realized that her breathing was coming in ragged gasps and that the gun in her hands was slick with sweat. With conscious effort, she forced her arms down and loosened her grip on it.

She heard someone moving behind her, and then felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. It's alright, Cassandra." Mewtwo's voice had the gentle tone of someone trying to calm down a scared and feral animal. "He is gone. You can let go of that." It was hard for her to do so, with her fingers so tense around the metal. When she did, he caught the gun with his powers and levitated it behind them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her back against him. "You are alright."

She let him hold like that for a minute, until she managed to stop hyperventilating. Then she pulled away and headed back into the house. Florian couldn't seem to look at her, while Michael was looking at her warily.

"You should let Aurora know he's coming," Cassandra told him. He nodded and headed into the house to get the phone.

"Cassie, I—" Florian began to say.

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut him off. He flinched like a kicked pikachu, but nodded. She turned her eyes to the floor, taking in the duffle bag and—and Shadow. His shoulders were hunched and his tail was twitching in agitation. She knelt down to him and reached out hesitantly. "Shadow—"

He growled low in his throat when she touched him between the ears, but after a second, he huffed out a breath and leaned into her touch. When she gave him a weak smile, he jumped onto her wrist, crawled up her arm, and perched on her shoulder. When he nuzzled her cheek, her smile grew.

"You brat," she choked out. "Where the hell were you when I got back? I was worried about you." She reached up and stroked his back. "I missed you."

He licked her cheek and then jumped back down to paw at the duffle bag. She sighed. "For all I know, there's a bomb in there."

She thought she saw Shadow roll his eyes at her. He certainly seemed to be giving her an exasperated look. "Fine. If whatever's in there kills us, though, I'm blaming you," she told him, reaching for the zipper.

The first thing she saw when she unzipped the bag was the hard, black plastic of an instrument case. There were scratches and buff marks on it that looked familiar to her, and when she checked, she saw her name embossed in gold lettering on its side. She forced herself to take a breath, then lifted the viola case out of the bag. She unlatched it and looked inside at the instrument. The viola and the bow were in better condition than she would have expected after five years on the road. The wood gleamed with oil and the knobs for the strings still had their pearly luster. The horse hair strip along the bow wasn't worn out or stringy. They looked the same as she remembered. She closed the case with trembling hands, then turned to look through the rest of the bag's contents.

There were clothes—some of which looked like they might be hers (the creep), but most of them belonged to the man. Bundled within them, though, were more delicate items. A folder filled with the pages of the songs she'd created. A photo album with pictures of her and her mother, looking more worn out than she remembered, as if it had been paged through often. The velvet box with her mother's engagement and wedding rings in it. Another, larger box with trinkets she remembered from her childhood. These were the treasures she'd clung to while growing up, to remind herself of happier times.

She'd thought she'd lost all of these things years ago. That man must have taken them before she'd returned from her last mission—and taken Shadow, too. She wasn't sure whether she should be furious at him for stealing them, or grateful to have them all back. After all, she would have been forced to leave them behind if he hadn't. Even Shadow, her dear Shadow, would not have been able to come with her or Mewtwo as he'd teleported them away. Not as a dark pokémon.

Unease twisted at the nerves in her stomach. Had he known something like that would happen? Was that why he'd done it? And why would Shadow, who'd trusted so few people, have gone with him? Had the man fooled him by saying that he was Caleb Brennan? Why would he have done that—and why would Shadow have believed him? What proof did the man have, besides those familiar gray eyes?

She felt Mewtwo come up behind her. "I see he returned your treasures to you."

"He took them first," she pointed out.

"True. But why?"

She shrugged. "Maybe to win me over. I don't know. I don't care."

He gave her an assessing look. "Yes you do. If you want me to, I could go and question him. You needn't ever see him again."

She shook her head. "No. We don't have to go that far. Not yet, anyway." She zipped the duffle bag back up and lifted it onto her shoulder.

"So what do you want to do about him?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know. Let me sleep on it." She walked down the hall and saw Maya and Christopher peeking out at her curiously. A jolt went through her stomach. How much had they seen?

Maya spoke first. "Mama, who was that?"

Cassandra sighed and reached down, stroking the fur on the top of her daughter's head. "I don't know, darling."

"Was he a bad man?" Christopher asked. "You were really angry…."

She rubbed her stinging eyes and then took his hand. "It doesn't matter. He's gone now." She opened her mouth to say something else, but then there was a knock on the door behind them. She froze. No. No, he couldn't be back. No one came back to the door of someone who'd just pointed a gun at you—

Michael brushed by her and answered the door, his hand on his holster. When he opened it, she saw another, much younger man carrying two boxes of pizza.

Her shoulders slumped with relief. "Why don't you two go wash your hands? Dinner's here." Cassandra didn't know if she would be able to eat anything, but they shouldn't go to bed hungry. The twins glanced at each other, then went to the bathroom. She heard the sink going and went to sit down in the living room. The movie was paused on the image of a pelipper hitting a glass window. She knew how it felt.

Anastasia gave her a concerned look and opened her mouth to ask something, but Cassandra waved a hand dismissively. "Could you make sure they don't start picking off the pepperonis and eating them, like they did last time?" she asked.

Ana lifted an eyebrow, but then nodded and went into the other room, leaving her alone. Cassandra heard her say something to Michael, their voices rising and falling, with Florian and the kids chiming in sometimes. But it was all fading into a dull noise, with none of the words standing out. She flinched as Shadow jumped and curled up in her lap, and when Alexius flopped down on her feet, but she welcomed their warmth. She sighed and leaned her elbow against her knees, hunching over to run her hands over her face.

How in the hell was she supposed to deal with any of this? Why did it all have to start happening at once? Wasn't there supposed to be a break between the punches?

She felt fabric sliding over her shoulders and looked up to see Mewtwo standing there, draping a blanket over her. "You were shivering," he said.

"I'm pretty sure everyone else got the hint that I wanted to be left alone for a few minutes."

"I have never been good at respecting boundaries."

"Wow, look at that bit of self-awareness. I'm so proud of you."

"I would like to think that all of my brooding has to led to some self-realizations," he said, sitting down next to her. He held out his paw to Shadow, who glared and shifted so that he was turned the other way. "Ah. He is angry with me too, it seems." Mewtwo sounded hurt by that.

"What were you expecting? For him to cuddle with you?"

"No. He has always been more affectionate with you than with me." He drew his hand back and met her eyes. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked. He looked as if he already knew what her answer would be, though.

"Go make sure neither of our kids start choking on their food."

"You need to eat too," he pointed out.

Food didn't sound all that appealing right now. "I'll be there in a minute," Cassandra said, making no promises.

Mewtwo hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "That is all I ask."

"Boundaries," she warned him. He sighed, nodded, and went into the kitchen.

It took her more than a minute to motivate herself to get up. She just wanted to go to bed, curl up under the covers, and hide for an hour or two. Or ten. But her stomach gave a low grumble and she forced herself to get up. The dark pokémon followed her into the kitchen, with Shadow looking at everyone—but especially at Maya and Christopher—with interest. Michael handed her a plate with two giant slices of pizza on it, which were lukewarm, but filling. No one spoke while she ate. They seemed to be trying not to look at her—or at least get caught looking at her—and the atmosphere was uncomfortably tense.

The kids broke the tension by reaching down to pet Shadow, who was sniffing at their greasy hands and flicking his tail in a happy way.

"That's Shadow," she told them. "He's…." How was she supposed to describe their relationship now? He hadn't been her pokémon for years. "He's a friend. Treat him nicely, okay?"

The kids agreed, with Christopher giggling as Shadow licked his fingers. Cassandra felt herself begin to relax at the sound. For now, the danger had passed. Her family was okay—and more whole now than it had been before, with Mewtwo and Shadow here. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to move forward yet, but maybe what she'd told Mewtwo was her best option: she needed to sleep on it. The night before hadn't been nearly as restful as it could have been, and it had been a long, emotional day. Things would be clearer to her in the morning, after she'd had some time to process things and wasn't as bone-tired.

As the others finished eating and started cleaning up, Cassandra took Maya's and Christopher's hands and led them to the bathroom to get them washed up. Christopher stared up at her with big, purple eyes and asked, "Can we finish watching Finding Nemo with Daddy?"

Cassandra glanced back at the oven clock. It was getting late. "How about you finish it with him in the morning?" she suggested.

Christopher looked disappointed, but seeing his sister's yawn, he nodded. "Okay."

She squeezed his hand and helped him reach the sink to wash his hands. Maya clambered onto the closed toilet seat and waved her legs and tail over the edge. "Could Daddy tuck us in tonight?" she asked.

Cassandra hesitated. "What, are you getting tired of me doing it?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Maya jutted her lip out in a pout. "No, but he's never tucked us in before."

Cassandra sighed. Mewtwo was already struggling with the whole fatherhood thing. This might be too much too fast. "How about tomorrow night? Your dad still needs time to get used to the idea of being your dad." Answering honestly was probably the best thing she could do right now.

Maya gave a long-suffering sigh, which Cassandra struggled not to smile at. "I guess. But definitely tomorrow night!" she insisted.

"Okay, darling. Tomorrow night it is. Now come here, we need to get you cleaned up too," she said, scooping the girl up and holding her up to the sink. When there were no signs of pizza grease in her fur, Cassandra set her back down and handed them their toothbrushes. They seemed to find getting their mouths extra foamy entertaining, but as long as they got their teeth clean, Cassandra wasn't going to comment on them being messy. At least they weren't dripping all over the floor, right?

When they were done, she led them upstairs and went through the motions of getting them changed into their nightclothes and getting them tucked into bed. As wound up as both of them had seemed earlier, their eyelids were drooping with sleepiness now. She hummed to them until they closed their eyes and their breathing evened out. Within five minutes they were both asleep.

She wasn't surprised. As exciting as having their dad around must be for them, they'd also been woken up in the middle of the night and had gotten up very early today. It had only been a matter of time before they'd both crashed. Kissing them both goodnight, she turned to the door and saw Shadow sitting there, the gold bands around his ears and tail glowing in the dim light. He tilted his head up at her inquiringly. She smiled and put an extra blanket on the table between the two beds. He jumped and curled up on it, seeming to go to sleep as well. His garnet eyes were still gleaming as she pulled the door mostly closed behind her, though.

She went back downstairs. Mewtwo was in the process of laying out blankets on the couch for himself. Ana was standing in the hallway closet and pulling pillows down from the top shelf. Cassandra mouthed a "thank you" to her as she passed them by, then headed into the kitchen. Michael and Alexius were still there. Michael was washing the dishes and Alexius had placed himself as close to his partner as possible, without sitting on the man's feet. But it was a near thing.

Michael looked up as she stepped inside and nodded to the phone. "Aurora wanted you to call her."

Cassandra nodded, going over to it and speed-dialing the Center's number. "It's me," she said as Aurora picked up.

"Hi Cassandra. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck, but what else is new?" She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "So did that guy find you? Are you okay?"

"Yes, he did, and yes, I'm fine. That was actually what I wanted to talk to you about. He asked me if we had the equipment to run a paternity test."

Wait, what? She heard her voice echoing the sentiment. "Do we?"

"We do, though it's more to check on pokémon pedigrees. But it will work for this too. I still have your records on file, so it wouldn't take long to run a scan and compare them to his, if you want me to."

On the one hand, that would definitively tell her whether the man was lying or not. On the other hand, she wouldn't be able to deny it if he was telling the truth. Could she handle that? "Did you take a lot of samples from him?" she asked. "Can't people fake those with like...patches full of blood or something?" Hadn't there been a science fiction movie they'd watched together a few years back where the protagonist had done just that?

"That would still require him to have met your father at some point, get samples from him, and keep them viable for years. The patches would also have to be good enough to fool me and...that's a lot of effort for a man who looks like he's been on the road for months." There was the sound of a mug being set on a counter. "Anyway, I took several samples from him just to be safe. Poked him more than was strictly necessary, too, if that helps."

Cassandra managed a weak smile. "So you're going to run them soon?"

"I've already started. And I'll be in the lab all night, so he won't be able to tamper with anything. I'll let you know what the tests say in the morning."

"You're not going to try to get some sleep?" And Aurora always chided her whenever she was up even an hour later than usual.

"I have coffee and someone manning the front desk," Aurora said. "It's fine. Though I'd like you to come in tomorrow, regardless of the results."

"Um, what for? Did we miss an appointment?"

"No, but Michael tells me you had sex with your boyfriend, and since I know Michael doesn't leave protection laying around where the kids could find it, that means there's a pill here with your name on it."

Cassandra felt her face heat up. "Er, yeah, I was meaning to talk to you about that. Is it still going to work that long after…?"

"Well, I would have preferred it if you'd taken it today, but you should be fine taking it tomorrow. Just be more careful in the future."

"Well I don't think we're planning to—" There was a noise over the line. Cassandra blinked. "Did you just snort at me?"

"Maybe. But let's continue this conversation tomorrow. You should get some sleep."

Cassandra hated that she was right. "Alright. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Cassandra," Aurora said before hanging up.

As Cassandra hung up, Michael glanced over. "So do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Not really. I kind of want to just go to sleep."

"Well, you feel free to do that. Ana and I have the house covered."

She nodded. "And Florian?"

"He's at the Center with Aurora."

She could see why Michael would be worried, considering. "She says she's going to pull an all-nighter."

He grimaced. "Of course she is. You mind if we swing by the bakery before we run over there tomorrow?"

"Sounds good to me. Need any help with that?" she asked, gesturing to the dishes.

He shook his head. "Almost finished. You go rest up."

She nodded and thanked him, then headed towards the stairs. Mewtwo was attempting to make himself comfortable on the couch, an arrangement made all the more difficult with his tail. She reached down and brushed her fingers over his forehead. "Night, wildcat."

He gave her a look filled with longing, but then drew the blanket farther up his shoulders. "Good night, dove."

At least he wasn't going to argue with her or act petulant about their sleeping arrangements. She appreciated that. When she reached her room, she slipped into more comfortable clothes and under her covers gratefully, trying to ignore the feeling that the bed seemed colder and bigger than it should be. Sleep came fitfully to her at first, as her mind continued to whirl with images from the past day—of Mewtwo staring down at her reverently, of her children tucked up against his sides, of a stranger's grey eyes boring into hers, of Shadow growling as she reached for him, and so many of her friends unable to meet her eyes after she'd threatened to shoot an unarmed man. But finally, after she thought she might start crying from weariness and the tightness around her skull, she passed into black and empty dreams.

She jerked awake at a shriek of laughter from downstairs, then heard a shushing sound right after it. For a minute, she laid there in the shaft of sunlight coming through her curtains, her head pounding and her stomach churning as if she'd slept too heavily. Her head spun as she rolled onto her side. She could feel her shirt and her hair sticking wetly to her skin. How long had she slept? What time was it? Had she been dreaming? Was everything that had happened over the last day just a dream…?

Then she heard the low rumble of Mewtwo's voice and knew that it wasn't. It took her a few minutes to stop crying after that (why the fuck was she crying now?) and to process what was going on. It was nine in the morning. She'd slept for seven hours. And yesterday hadn't been a dream. Mewtwo's arrival, her telling him off, meeting back up with Shadow, and the mysterious man claiming to be her father—all of that was real. Take it one small step at a time, she told herself as she dried her face. The first order of business would be take a shower. She could worry about the next step after that was done.

The credits were rolling by the time she went downstairs and found Mewtwo and the kids on the couch. Mewtwo looked like he'd had a rough night too, given how red his eyes were and how stiffly he was sitting. But the children were bright-eyed and practically bouncing on the cushions next to him. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and she felt something tug inside of herself. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to him being here, the way she'd dreamed about for years.

He nodded to the kitchen. "The officer made breakfast for everyone. He set aside a portion for you."

"How long have you all been up?" she asked.

"About two hours. It took them some time to wake me to continue the film."

"Do you want to watch another one?" Christopher asked him, looking less shy than he had been the day before.

Mewtwo looked at her and, seeing her nod, nodded as well. "I would not mind. Why don't you and your sister pick out something suitable?"

Christopher grinned and bounced up from the couch, with Maya following behind him. Mewtwo stood slowly and went over to her. "How are you feeling?" he asked, reaching up to touch her arm.

"I get the feeling that I'm going to get really tired of that question before the day is over. You think you can handle them?" she asked.

He looked over at them. "I think so. For the duration of whatever film they decide on, at least."

"Okay. If you need me, I'll be making some phone calls." With that, she left him to their children.

She went into the kitchen and ate the eggs and toast Michael had set out for her. The eggs were cold and the toast was soggy, but she didn't think she would have been able to keep anything else down as she dialed Aurora's number. Midway through it, she chickened out and called the school instead, only to listen to the receptionist tell her that they'd already brought in a substitute teacher. Michael, it seemed, had called them to tell them there was a family emergency going on. Which was a good name for it. She wasn't sure what else they could call this, if not that. She asked the woman to convey her apologies to the principal and then hung up.

It took her longer than she would have liked to call Aurora's number, though it turned out that she needn't have been so worried. Aurora wasn't going to tell her the test results over the phone. The fact that she wouldn't make Cassandra uneasy all over again. After all, if the man wasn't her father, wouldn't Aurora just tell her that? She agreed to be at the Center in fifteen minutes with Michael, and then went to get her coat.

She peeked into the living room as she laced up her boots. They'd put on a movie, though which one it was, she couldn't make out from this angle. But the kids were more interested in Shadow right now, since he was letting them pet the daylights out of him and play with his tail. She could almost hear the fox purring from here.

"You keep that up and you're going to make Alexius jealous," she told them with a smile.

Maya responded to that by going over to the hellhound and throwing her arms around his neck. "Nuh-uh. He's our favorite puppy."

"He's your only puppy," Michael pointed out, throwing his scarf around his neck.

"Are you coming back soon?" Christopher asked.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Really soon. We're just going to visit your Aunt 'Rora," Cassandra said. "You want anything from the bakery?" she asked, looking up at Ana. The woman shook her head and assured her that anything was fine. Christopher, his eyes bright, asked for a cinnamon bun, while Maya, predictably, asked for a "head of bread."

Mewtwo blinked and stared at the girl. "A what?"

"It's bread that looks like a skull! It's really cool! And sometimes they fill it with red jelly!"

"That sounds...gruesome," Mewtwo said.

Maya stared at him, not understanding what he meant. "Why? It's not like it's a real skull." Before Mewtwo could respond, she cocked her head and added, "Though they have a lot of those at the Tower. I guess they're kind of creepy. Especially when the ghosts hide in them and jump out at you."

Mewtwo slowly turned his head and looked at Cassandra. "...That does not seem normal," he said in private telepathy.

"I think we already had a conversation about how being normal wasn't going to happen for us," she said.

He shook his head and focused on the sight of Christopher trying to catch Shadow's tail, which the fox was flicking back and forth. Hoping that he had things in hand—and that Ana would swoop in and get things under control if he didn't—Cassandra headed to the bakery with Michael. It was still the morning rush, with some people ordering loafs and rolls, while others scooped up bags of cookies and boxes of pies. When Cassandra and Michael reached the counter, they pointed to the family favorites in the pastry cases: cherry and apples fritters, cinnamon buns and chocolate twists, cream-filled donuts and donuts in the shape of skulls. The fruit filling today was raspberry sauce. Maya would be thrilled.

Cassandra was making her way through a cream-filled donut when Michael, swallowing a bite of his fritter, asked, "So your dad is supposed to be dead, right?"

"Right. Giovanni wanted to carve out a territory in South America. He was hoping to send some people to finish his mom's work there, but before he could do that, he needed to clear out the gang in the area. So he sent my father with a team to do that. They were killed instead," Cassandra said, giving him the gist of the reports she'd read as a teenager.

"I really don't need the gory details, but did they uh…send back proof that they'd killed everyone he sent over?" Michael asked.

She shrugged. "Some crushed pokéballs with the right serial codes. A few fingers and heads. It sent a pretty clear message."

"So did one of those er...parts...belong to your dad?"

"Some of the pokéballs did. The body parts were harder to ID. Between the rainforest and the trip over, they'd gotten a little ripe. Giovanni was convinced, though."

And even if he'd been wrong about that, and her father had survived his confrontation with the other gang, how likely was it that he wouldn't have returned before now? It had been twenty years, after all, and the world wasn't that big anymore. It wouldn't have been hard for him to stow away on a boat or even, in the days before extensive security checks, a plane. And even if that hadn't worked for some reason, he could have paid someone to teleport him to Kanto. It might have been a hopscotch-style trip and left him as sick as a dog afterwards, but it could have been done. The only reason her father would have been delayed this long was if he'd wanted to be delayed—which made him less endearing to her than a bloated, gooey corpse, as far as she was concerned.

"Just keep an open mind, okay?" Michael said as they walked towards the Center, with snowflakes whirling around them.

She resisted the urge to shove his face into the rest of his fritter. "Yeah, sure." She stuffed the rest of her donut into her mouth as they approached the front doors, which slid open for them.

Aurora, with dark bags under her eyes, waved at them from the front desk. "Man the fort," she told her chansey and the assistant at one of the computers.

Aurora gestured for them to follow her through the door behind the desk, which led into the treatment rooms and the laboratory in back. She gratefully accepted the box of pastries and took two for herself, then gestured to the coffee pot she'd started—apparently only a few minutes ago, given the bubbling noise coming from it.

"Do I want to know how many pots you've had so far?" Michael asked.

"Ignorance is bliss, don't you think?" Aurora returned. As he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee, she asked, "You think you could go up front for a few minutes? The trainers keep going out to play in the snow and never remember to knock their boots off before they come back in."

It was a pretty obvious attempt to get him out of the room, which seemed ominous to Cassandra. Michael took the hint and grabbed another fritter before stepping out. When Aurora gestured for her to take a seat, Cassandra did so. She felt herself tense up as Aurora rummaged through the cabinets. She didn't relax when Aurora handed her a pill and a cup of water to wash it down. She wasn't fond of pills, but Aurora had proven herself to be a good doctor over the years—not like the one Cassandra had once had—so she took the medicine without making a fuss.

"So where do you want to start? With this or with the test results?"

Cassandra nearly choked mid-swallow. She knew it would be stalling to pick the conversation about safe sex, but if Aurora told her that the man was telling the truth, would she really be able to concentrate on anything else? Probably not. "With this."

Aurora looked relieved. "Well, obviously, that pill isn't ideal as a contraceptive. I have other options you could try, like female condoms, since I wasn't sure if the male version would work for him or not. There are also birth control pills and implants we could consider, though you'd have to wait a few weeks before—"

Cassandra held up a hand. "What do you think would be the easiest to remember? I don't want to forget about this and end up…." She had her children. She wasn't ready to have more. She wasn't even sure she wanted to have more. She'd never given it any serious thought. And with everything else that was happening, now didn't seem like the time to start.

"Probably the shot. You'd come in for it every three months. I'd call you to schedule the appointments," Aurora said. Her tone suggested that she didn't trust Cassandra with scheduling those appointments herself, even though Cassandra had done that for her and her kids' check-ups for years now.

Whatever. Cassandra wasn't going to waste her energy on being offended. It wasn't as if Aurora's suspicion was without merit, given that Cassandra had completely forgotten about protection until after she'd had sex. So she said, "Sure, that sounds fine," and rolled up her sleeve so Aurora could get at her arm. The alcohol wipe left her skin feeling cool and tingly, while the sting of the needle made her grit her teeth.

When it was over, Cassandra asked, "You sure I'm good for three months?"

"You're going to want to use another method for the first week, just to be safe," Aurora said, handing her a bag filled with things Cassandra hadn't seen since her sexual education class when she'd been thirteen. Cassandra almost missed the days when her body had been too toxic for a fetus to survive. Her sex life with Mewtwo had been much more spontaneous for it. But she accepted the bag without complaint, because she knew she needed to be more responsible than that, even if she didn't think she was going to be sleeping with her partner any time soon.

With that done, there was nothing left to keep them from talking about the test results. Aurora picked up a file and sat down across from her. She seemed to be waiting for Cassandra to give her the go ahead. Not a good sign.

"And what about the other thing?" Cassandra asked.

Aurora hesitated, then said, "I ran all of the samples and double-checked them. The results were the same." She opened the file and gestured to two pictures, side by side. "This one is your profile. This one is his. All of those highlights are where they match up."

Cassandra's stomach swooped. There were a lot of highlights. "So you're saying we're related," she said, trying to hold out hope that maybe he still wasn't her….

The look Aurora gave her was almost pitying. "I'm saying he's your father." She set the folder on the counter beside them and put a hand on her knee. "Cassandra, I'm sorry, but…."

But whatever else Aurora said to her, Cassandra didn't hear it. The shock settled in again in a way that was getting to be familiar and exhausting. She couldn't seem to hear anything, as if there was cotton in her ears. She couldn't seem to feel any warmth, either, as though she'd been locked in a freezer. It felt as if she couldn't move or find her voice; as if she'd been bound up and her breath stolen away. For a brief moment, she imagined herself as an animal that had been butchered, that was waiting to have its skin stuffed and mounted on someone's wall. She couldn't feel anything, but she knew that something horrible had happened to her.

Again.

Suddenly she could hear someone laughing and jerked when she realized that that was her, that her mouth was open and that she was making that sound. But then, what else could she do but laugh? This woman was telling her that her father was alive. That he'd been alive all of her life and was just down the hall. That he was here right now, even though it was years after her mother had been murdered, years after her childhood had been stolen, years after her innocence had been taken from her. He'd come back to her years after she'd been damned for loving the wrong person, years after she'd been hunted by her allies, years after she'd nearly died bringing her children into the world.

He had come back, but he'd come back years too late for it to matter.

Maybe he'd fucked her mother, but that didn't make him her father. It took more than a spurt of seed to be one. If Cassandra saw him again, she'd tell him that.

If she saw him again. Cassandra wasn't sure that she should. She might murder him on the spot if she did. And it probably wasn't a good time to test that theory. Aurora wouldn't appreciate the mess, for one thing.

Oh, right. Aurora was still in the room with her. She was actually right in front of her. Her mouth was moving and her hands were on Cassandra's shoulders. When had that happened? The ringing in her ears started to fade as she concentrated on trying to make out with Aurora was saying: "...Cass...are you okay?"

"Get off of me," Cassandra managed, lifting her hands to push Aurora's arms away.

"Are you okay?" Aurora repeated, her brow furrowed with worry. "I know this has to be a shock to you, but—"

"You don't know anything about it," Cassandra snapped.

Aurora looked at her as if she'd slapped her. Then her expression turned stony. "Don't use that tone with me. I'm only trying to help."

Cassandra wanted to snap again, but she bit her tongue to stop herself from swearing. She took a few harsh breaths, trying to get herself to calm down, to not take her anger out on her friend. "Sorry," she bit out. "I didn't mean it. I just need some time to process this, okay?"

"It might be best if you go home for that," Aurora said coolly.

"Aurora, really, I didn't mean—"

"No, I'm serious. You should go home," Aurora said, closing her eyes and struggling to soften her tone. "I know you didn't mean that. It's the shock talking. And the best thing for shock is to wrap yourself up in a blanket and drink something warm. I can help you with one of those." The doctor handed her a cup of coffee. "Go home. Go see your kids. We'll figure out what to do about him when you've calmed down."

"Can't we just push him off a cliff? Or at least shoo him down the mountain?"

Aurora's lips twitched. "I wish we could, but he has some...collateral."

Cassandra's brow furrowed. "Did he threaten you—"

"No. We'll talk about it when you're ready. Now go so I can have my lab back. Michael's waiting." She made a dismissive hand gesture.

Cassandra went. As she and Michael walked back to the house, Cassandra held the cup between her hands and took sips of the dark, bitter coffee every few steps. The brew was bracing, but it was also as warm as promised. By the time they reached the porch and were brushing snow off of themselves, she was feeling a little better. The hugs Maya and Christopher gave her when she got inside were even better, soothing an ache that she hadn't even realized was there.

"So it's true then," Mewtwo said, looking at her from the entrance to the living room. There were crayons scattered at his feet and a sticker on his arm, which seemed like something from one of her more whimsical dreams—but the sorrow in his eyes was all too familiar to her.

She nodded and let herself be led over to the couch. She saw a collection of half-finished drawings on the table, with erasers in the shapes of pokémon scattered between them, which meant that they hadn't spent the whole morning watching movies. Cassandra was pretty sure she wouldn't mind one, though—especially if it was light and fluffy and had no hint of a father in it. Surely that couldn't be too hard to find? She got her wish when the kids picked out a fantasy about two con artists finding a legendary city and befriending the natives there and getting up to all sorts of hijinks. The whole thing passed in a blur of bright colors and music and a merciful lack of parents.

It helped that Maya had clambered into her lap and a blanket had been thrown around them both. Christopher continued to color pictures at her feet, while Mewtwo sat on the other side of the couch, the tip of his tail pressing against her leg. The table also had cups of hot chocolate on it, the small ones for the kids, the bigger ones for everyone else. Michael and Anastasia, it seemed, weren't immune to the allure of a silly movie and sweet drinks. Alexius and Shadow, for their parts, lounged on the carpet.

Under different circumstances, this would have been perfect. As the credits rolled, though, Cassandra still didn't know what to do. Maybe there was nothing for it, except to let the next punch come, to endure the sting and then let it pass. Eventually, life would have to stop pummeling her. It had to, right? There had to be a limit to how much she could take in less than two days? Her lover coming back from the dead, her father doing the same...who was next? Her mother?

A feeling a deep disquiet flowed through her at the thought. She forcefully shoved it down. She had enough to think about without something like that chewing up her brain and spitting it out in bloody pieces. No, she would just have to get this thing with her father over with. Once it was done and behind her, she could try to be happy again. Waiting would only make her feel worse. Best to do it while she still felt bruised and battered—hadn't she learned that lesson when she'd been younger?

Squeezing her arms around Maya's waist (I'll never let this happen to you, sweetheart, Cassandra thought), she carefully shifted the girl over so that she was sitting closer to Mewtwo. "I need to go make a call. I'll be back soon," she told them, then went into the kitchen to dial Aurora's number. It rang only once before Aurora picked up. "What was the collateral?" Cassandra asked her.

Aurora didn't hedge this time. "He has the vaccine. He says he'll give it to us, and more where it came from, but only if he gets to talk to you."

Son of a bitch. She leaned against the wall and rested her head on the cool plaster. "Are you sure it's real?"

"It looks real. I'll know for certain after I can run some tests. He's not going to let it go until he has what he wants, though. He said you wouldn't need him then."

"He's right. I wouldn't." But if the vaccine was real—and if he had more of it hidden away somewhere—it would be a miracle. She could inoculate her children and her mate. The League could start inoculating their pokémon teams. Without the risk of their forces contracting the disease, they could fight in earnest and shift the tide of this stupid, pointless war.

"Okay," Cassandra sighed. "I'll do it. Today."

"Are you sure? No one would blame you if you waited a day or two. Hell, no one would blame you if you took a week."

"And what if an infected pokémon comes into town tomorrow? What happens then?" They both knew the answer to that. She ran a hand through her hair. "No. Let's just get this over with. I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to 'handle' anything like this anymore," Aurora murmured.

"No. Life just sucks that way. I'll be there in an hour."

"Alright. I'll see you then."

Cassandra hung up and hoped that she'd make it through this.

"Let me come with you," Mewtwo said as he watched Cassandra pulling on her jacket an hour later. "Let me be there to help you deal with him."

Cassandra, looking distracted, shook her head. "No," she said, her rejection stinging him. "I need you to stay here. Help Ana take care of the kids while I'm gone. Maybe take them to the park. They'd like that."

Mewtwo felt his brow furrow. "Maya's appearance does not draw any questions?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Not as much as you'd think. Everyone here assumes that she belongs to Christopher." She glanced over at him and must have noticed how he bristled at that, because she added, "Which I don't like either, but it's better than them trying to catch her and study her or something."

"You could simply keep them at home if you were worried about that."

"Yeah, well, I can't imagine that would be very good for them. That's why I need you to go with them—to make sure they stay safe." She turned to him and set a hand on his arm. "If you want to help me, do this for me."

His shoulders sagged. He did not want to say that she was being unfair, because she wasn't—but it still felt that way. She had always turned to him with her problems when she had been younger. It felt like he should be by her side when she confronted the man who'd sired her and then abandoned her. He wanted to be there for her, to give her someone to lean on, and to make sure that man didn't succeed in hurting her again.

But Cassandra didn't want that. She wanted him to stay behind—and despite how the idea chaffed, he knew it would only upset her more if he tried to argue with her about it. He could not risk alienating her like that—not when things were so fragile between them as it was.

So, reluctantly, he nodded. "If you change your mind and wish for me to be there, all you need to do is think my name loudly. I will come to you at once."

She gave him a small, strained smile. "Thanks. I'll let you know." Her hand dropped off of his arm. Then she walked into the other room, telling the children she'd be back later, and left with Michael, Alexius, and Shadow.

With a sigh, Mewtwo went into the other room and tried to quell the urge to panic when the children looked up at him with happy, expectant faces. "Would either of you be interested in going to the park? Your mother suggested it."

Maya beamed at that and nodded eagerly, her tail twitching behind her. "Yes! Can we go now?"

"That was my intention."

Christopher walked over to him and shyly reminded him, "We'll need our boots and jackets."

"Ah yes. And where would those be?"

"The closet. I'll show you." The boy took his hand and led him down the hall, while Maya ran ahead of them. Mewtwo opened the door and found the jackets, which had fake fur lining the hoods and sleeves. The kids reached for them eagerly as he held them out. He pulled down the hats and mittens and scarves from the shelf, mindful of how cold it would be out and how very small these children were. They only came up to his waist.

They looked so fragile, standing there and giving him those eager looks. Fragile, but with bright eyes, with none of the shadows in them that he knew he would find in his. He was reminded of Amber for a second, but he buried the memory of her before it could sit in his mind and ferment.

"Mama usually helps us with our coats," Christopher prompted, while Maya bounced on the heels of her paws.

Ah, so that was what they were waiting for. He nodded and knelt, carefully helping the boy and girl slide their coats on. His hands fumbled with the zipper and the large buttons. As he pulled their hats over their crowns of their heads, something inside of him ached at how soft Christopher's hair and Maya's fur were. I made you with the woman I love, he thought as he wrapped their scarves over their shoulders. He wondered how many times he would have to tell himself that before the truth of it would sink into him, as deep and persistent as his love for their mother.

As they pulled their gloves on, Anastasia appeared. She, too, was dressed for the cold weather. "Are you going out like that?" she asked him.

He blinked. "I will be changing into my human form, but I believe my usual clothes and cloak should be sufficient."

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "I don't think so. The weather can change in an instant up here. You'll need something warmer."

"If the weather changes, I can change it back—and I have endured the cold before. You needn't be concerned."

She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm serious. Cassandra will yell at me if she finds out that I let you go outside in that. Besides, you'd be setting a bad example for these two."

He looked down at Christopher and Maya and found that they were watching their exchange with interest. He sighed. "I do not own heavier clothing than this."

"Michael does. You could borrow some of his."

"I'm not certain it would be wise to steal the clothes of a man who owns a gun and has little fondness for me."

"If it's a problem, he can take it up with me." She drew out a long trench coat from the back of the closet, which looked like it had seen little use. "Here. He hates this one. He says it makes him look ridiculous."

"It will look doubly so on me," Mewtwo said, but he accepted her offering nonetheless. He went into the bathroom to shift his form and get dressed. He felt silly when he donned the trench coat. It had been years since he had worn one, and now it seemed pointless when had a much better disguise. He supposed he would have to pick up some winter clothes from a shop in town, since his own were apparently insufficient.

As he came back out, she gave him an approving nod. "Alright. Let's get going."

She opened the front door and ushered them out into the snowy neighborhood. The walkways were covered in patches of ice and handfuls of salt, which he knew from experience would burn against the pads of his feet if he was in his true form. Maya, who was wearing what he could only describe as booties with gripping pads on them, didn't seem to be bothered, though. He felt relieved at that.

Overall, the weather didn't seem to be too bad. It was cold, of course, and overcast, but there wasn't much wind, nor was there any snow falling. They could probably stay out here for a few hours without any issues. But what was he supposed to do with the children? While he had seen a playground when Cassandra and he had walked through the park yesterday, he wasn't sure if it was wise to let them play on it—not when it was coated in ice. That left activities he was only vaguely familiar with, like making snow men and snow angels and fighting with snowballs and….

The idea struck him suddenly. He felt himself smile. "Are there any hills in this park?"

"On the south side," Anastasia replied. She didn't sound concerned. Perhaps she already knew where this was going.

He turned to the children and took their hands tentatively. "Has your mother ever taken you two sledding?" he asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Perhaps they would not be interested in such a thing. Yet it was one of the things Cassandra had taught him about years ago, so it would be…fitting…if he could do the same for their children.

They shook their heads. "No," Christopher told him. "What's that?" he asked, looking intrigued.

Mewtwo felt his nervousness drain away and his smile grow. "Let me show you."

If Cassandra had a choice—a real choice—she would have preferred to spend her day with her family. She should be playing in the snow with them, before the hard winter set in and they were confined to the house. Instead, she was sitting across the table from the man she refused to think of as her father, no matter the blood that tied them together.

Florian, the traitor, was sitting across from her as well, looking uncomfortable, but determined to play his role here. He would be checking to make sure that Caleb was being truthful as this talk went on. He was also, she suspected, there to make sure she didn't deck Caleb in the face. Michael was doing something similar. He was here to make sure that no one got hurt. Alexius, who was sitting at his feet, was obviously in work mode. He was staring at Caleb fixedly, with embers glowing blue between his fangs. They hadn't caught fire yet, but it would only take half a second for them to, if his master or his ward were threatened.

Shadow had responded to this by going over and leaping into Caleb's lap, giving the dog a bored and contemptuous look. Cassandra, for her part, had struggled not to feel angry or hurt by the gesture—or at least not to show it. She didn't think she succeeded, because Florian kept glancing at her nervously.

Well, she'd been a lot of things in her life. Calm and collected weren't two of them. She would try to get through this without yelling at anyone, though. She didn't think that would get them anywhere.

She crossed her arms and said, "So you wanted to talk to me?"

Caleb nodded. "I take it the results of the test came in?"

"What makes you think that?"

"You agreed to meet with me. I assume that means—"

"I'm meeting with you because you have something we need—and you won't hand it over until I talk to you. So let's talk. Why are you prioritizing…whatever it is you want to tell me…over the safety of my children?" She almost called them his grandchildren, to twist the knife in. That would mean acknowledging that they were a part of his family, though, and he didn't deserve them.

He frowned. "That wasn't my intention. I was going to give it to you as a gift up front, but then you…well." He sighed. "Even if this ends with you yelling at me, I'll still give it to you. I never meant to suggest that I wouldn't."

She didn't let herself feel relieved at that. He could make his promises all he wanted, but they would mean nothing unless he kept them. She wouldn't allow herself to hope that he would keep his word. After all, he'd promised her mother that he would come back to her, and he never had. Why should she believe him now?

"You could just give it to me now and prove it."

He gave her a sad smile. "If I did, you would walk out of here and I'd never see you again."

"Oh, I get it. So instead of helping me and trusting me to come back, you're going to openly manipulate me instead. That's really nice. Really endearing."

"You wouldn't come back. You've made it clear that you want nothing to do with me. Don't pretend that you would."

She felt her mouth set into a thin line. "So what is it that you wanted to tell me so badly?"

"Well, I imagine you have some questions for me?"

"What? Like 'what do you want and where the fuck have you been all this time?' Because that's crossed my mind, but I'm not sure it matters. You weren't here. What more is there to say?"

"A lot more. A hell of a lot more," Caleb insisted, leaning forward in his seat and staring at her with desperate eyes. "Please let me explain."

She leaned back in her chair, away from him. "Well it's not like I have much choice, do I?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "No, I guess you don't." He sighed and opened his eyes. "Alright. What do I want? I want to help you and maybe get to know you better. You're my daughter and…." He met her eyes. "…from what I can tell, you've turned into an amazing woman."

She almost laughed in his face. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"You can't blame me for trying," he said. "But I mean it. I'd like to be a part of your life, if you'd let me."

She bit back the first several scathing comments that sprang to her tongue. Instead she said, "Maybe if you turn out to be less of an asshole than I think you are." She doubted it, though. He hadn't been there for her. She couldn't imagine herself wanting him to be there after this, no matter what his story ended up being. She didn't need him.

He grimaced, but nodded. "As for where I've been, that varies. Mostly I've been in Guyana."

"Where Giovanni sent you," she noted. "You couldn't just hitch a ride home? There are these things called airplanes. And pokémon that can carry people across long distances. I'm pretty sure Guyana has those."

"It does—and I did end up coming home thanks to a pokémon. I just wasn't able to leave before then."

"Why?"

"That's complicated."

"You mean you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I mean it's actually complicated. I don't think I could explain it to you without giving you a lot of context about how I got there first."

"Giovanni wanted to get rid of you. Because he's a psycho and does that shit to the people he supposedly cares about," she said.

Caleb looked uncomfortable. "He wasn't always like that."

"Well he is now. Maybe you should have brought me his head instead as a peace offering. That would have taken a load off of my mind."

"And I might have done that, but his security is too tight right now. There's only so much you can do when it's only you and a fox. No offense, Shadow," he said, stroking the pokémon behind his ears.

Cassandra felt herself bristle. "And what the hell is this? You stole my starter pokémon from me? Who does that?"

"We knew you'd be leaving in a hurry when you got back from your mission. Trying to take Shadow with you would have slowed you down. So I got him and some of your things out of your apartment for you. It was the least I could do."

"I hope you mean that literally, because that's literally true." That was pathetic if that was all he'd done for her over the years. Giovanni had fucking done more than that for her! "So you knew I was going to leave Team Rocket?"

"I was told that it was a very strong possibility."

"By who?"

"To answer that, I really do need to explain the rest."

She sighed. "Is this going to be a long story?"

He looked like he was struggling with the response, but then he hesitantly said, "…Yes?"

She reached up and rubbed her temples. "Okay. Fine. Fuck it. But we need coffee and lunch and maybe some alcohol first." After a quick raid on the Center cafeteria, courtesy of Florian, who gave her several of the lemon muffins he knew she liked (he was clearly trying to butter her up, wasn't he?), she took a gulp of her coffee and said, "Alright, go."

Caleb picked at his own blueberry muffin. "The first thing you need to know is that Giovanni and I have known each other since we were children."

Cassandra set her coffee down. "Oh my god, are you really going to tell me your whole life story? This is going to take forever."

He scowled. "You know, we have two options here. I could explain things to you out of order, which is going to confuse you and take all day. Or I could tell it to you in order, which will save us some time. Since this might be the only chance I get to talk to you, I'm willing to stay here as long as it takes. But what about you? I know you're scared—"

She glared at him. "I am not scared of you."

"Yes you are. All of this sarcasm and anger is your version of a brave face. It's how you play defensive. I know, because you got that from me. Though you have your mother's temper," he added with rueful smile.

Cassandra really didn't like that. "So are you going to tell me this story or not?" she said, not wanting to linger on anything that made him smile like that. I am not yours, she thought fiercely. You don't get to look at me that way.

He hesitated and looked as if he wanted to say something else, but then nodded. "Okay. So Giovanni and I met when we were boys. Our families had been allies for years—mine was in service to his, actually—and both of them were…less than interested in obeying the law? They smuggled, they stole and trafficked pokémon, they ran gambling rings—anything that would make them money and not draw too much attention to themselves, like the drug and flesh markets were. Our families weren't as interested in gaining power back then—that came later. Back then, we weren't that important. I was the fourth son of my family and Gio—"

"Wait. Does that mean I have uncles?"

He nodded. "Two of them were married with kids by the time you were born. You also have an aunt on your mother's side, who was engaged last I checked. You might even still have both sets of grandparents—you did five years ago, but with the war going on, who knows?" He looked like he felt guilty over not knowing what had happened to them. "I couldn't risk meeting with them again. If word had gotten back to Giovanni…."

Cassandra didn't respond to that. After a moment, Caleb went on, "Anyway, back then, Giovanni was…well, there's no delicate way to put it. He was an unwanted son and his mother made sure that he knew it. I have this very clear memory of her calling him a 'brat' once, and being surprised because that was almost nice, coming from her. His father and my parents tried to help, but there was only so much they could do. So you have two boys, both of them overlooked, and one with a very tense relationship with one of his parents. And neither of us had been instilled with a respect for the law."

"This sounds like it's leading to nowhere good," Michael commented, making Cassandra nearly jump out of her skin. Jesus, he should at least clear his throat before he started talking out of nowhere!

Caleb gave them both a crooked smile. "As a matter of fact, it didn't. We might have misbehaved a little."

"And when you say you misbehaved…?" Michael prompted him.

"We might have hit a few Pokémon Centers and stolen a bunch of pokémon." He almost sounded proud about it.

Michael did not look pleased. "And you were never caught?"

"Oh, we were. But it took the cops five tries to do it."

"How did you manage that?" Cassandra asked. Sure, she'd never gotten captured by the cops, but she'd been trained on how to avoid them. It sounded like Caleb and Giovanni hadn't been.

Caleb's smiled, but his eyes were sad. "Well, we had a very good getaway driver."

Forty Years Ago:

Legally speaking, none of them were old enough to drive a car. But if you were going to pull off a heist, you had to have a getaway car, so the law could go hang itself as far as they were concerned.

That had sounded reasonable to Caleb five minutes ago, but now he was about eighty percent sure they were going to die. When Nadia—screaming as she drove them into Viridian Forest to try to shake the cops—soared the car off of a ledge, he bumped their odds of dying up to ninety.

At some point in the wild ride, the sack of pokéballs they'd nicked had burst open. Now they were rolling on the floor and bouncing on the seats with each bump they went over. Caleb was pretty sure one of those was going to smack into a window and shatter it any minute now, and then they'd really be in trouble. Giovanni's older brother would murder them if they wrecked his car. So what if he had three others? This one was his favorite! That was why Giovanni had insisted on using it. He didn't seem worried, though. He was busy trying to suffocate himself with laughter in the passenger's seat.

Oh well. If they crashed and died, none of them would have to worry about Gio's big brother anyway.

As they went soaring over another ledge, Caleb made a desperate grab for one of the pokéballs sailing towards the front window. He caught it and stuffed it back into the sack. As another one hit the back of his head, he cursed and shouted at his friends, "Maybe we should pull over!"

Giovanni smirked. "And get caught? Nah. What's the first rule of being in Team Rocket?"

"Don't get caught!" Nadia shouted at the same time as Giovanni did, sharing a mischievous grin with him.

Oh someone kill him if this car ride didn't. "Guys, there's at least—" He glanced through the back window. "—at least four cars coming after us this time!"

"That's a new record," Nadia said gleefully.

"I'm serious! We should ditch the cargo!"

Giovanni scowled. "Then what was the point of knocking over the Center?"

"Why are you asking me?" Caleb shouted. "It was your idea!"

"Boys, stop arguing. You're distracting your getaway driver," Nadia said, twisting the wheel and sending them into a sharp turn. One of the pokéballs hit the front window and cracked it.

Then he saw where Nadia was taking them. "Is that the river?" Caleb shouted.

"Don't worry! There's a bridge!"

Caleb saw what she meant and felt his stomach plummet. "That's a wooden bridge! For people to walk over!"

At that sight, Giovanni sobered up. "Um, he might be right. I'm not sure that bridge can hold up a car!"

Nadia ignored them and drove them straight towards it. "Let's find out!"

Giovanni reached for the steering wheel, but then they hit the wooden logs of the bridge and he was tossed back into his seat. Caleb saw stars—or rather, the pokéballs that were flying around his head—as the car bounced over it. The noise of the tires rumbling over the logs—he could feel them swaying and buckling—was deafening, but he was pretty sure the others were screaming.

Then the car went over the last bump and was back on the dirt road of the route. Caleb, when he regained his senses and twisted back around, looked back and saw that the police cars had stopped before crossing the bridge.

"Oh look, we made it," Nadia said.

"You crazy bitch," Giovanni breathed, sounding awed.

The flickering lights and the wails of the sirens faded behind them as they turned down the road. After a mile passed and there was still no sign of the cops, Nadia slowed down to a reasonable speed and Giovanni helped Caleb collect all of the pokéballs and put them back into their sack.

"That was a close one," Giovanni said, inspecting the pokéballs and pocketing one.

Caleb wondered if he was planning to add that one to his fledgling team. He'd been talking about entering the next League competition when it started, and as the opening date drew closer, Caleb had to admit that he liked the idea. Maybe they could all go together. That sounded like it could be fun—and much safer than these heists.

"At least we got away," Caleb said.

He should have known better than to jinx them like that. There was a sudden jerk and a rattling feeling from the tires. Nadia cursed as the car slowed to a halt, while Giovanni quickly hid the pokéball he'd pocketed into one of the car's hidden compartments. Caleb, for his part, was pretty sure he'd have rather gone over the bridge. They were going to be in so much trouble.

As the car jerked to a stop, the cops emerged from the forest. Some of them landed around them on pidgeots. The beams from their flashlights cut through their windows, making Caleb screw his eyes shut. Oh, his brothers were going to kill him. There was a banging on the doors and orders for them to open up. He opened his eyes and glanced at Giovanni, who was seething with rage in the front seat. He was bristling the way he did when he wanted to fight. But then Giovanni glanced at Nadia, who'd gone pale next to him, and then back at Caleb. His shoulders sagged and he nodded.

"I guess we couldn't get lucky every time. Let's get this over with." He was the first one to open the door and step out with his hands up.

They were all booked from there, but fortunately for them, none of them had been stupid enough to bring their real identification cards with them. The car would be harder to explain away, but all of them knew better than to say anything yet, so they sat together in silence until their emergency contact got there. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, Giovanni's father arrived.

He was not an old man, but something in how he held himself suggested that he was. There was white hair across his temples and deep furrows in his forehead. He sighed when he saw them, but bailed them out. He always did when any of them got into trouble. He paid the fines and paid off the chief to knock their punishment down to community service. It helped that all of the pokémon—except for one—had been returned to their owners.

The car would be impounded until Giovanni's brother picked it up. It would no doubt be searched before then, but the compartments had been designed to withstand police probing, and they probably wouldn't search it too closely anyway, given who Giovanni's mother was. Still, they were all sure to get an earful when they got back home.

When they reached the manor, the adults were already waiting for them. Nadia's mother, who was holding the hand of Nadia's sister (who was dressed and packed for school, but looked like she was nodding off) grabbed Nadia's arm and tugged her back outside to their car. Caleb's oldest brother, Aaron, sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, telling him their parents were waiting for them. When Caleb gave him a desperate look and glanced worriedly at Giovanni, his brother relented and murmured, "Okay. Five more minutes."

Giovanni's parents led him into another room. Caleb followed them at a distance, careful to not be seen. Mrs. Maki was ranting under her breath, asking Giovanni sharp, rapid-fire questions. Giovanni was stony-faced and didn't respond—not even when the woman spun around and slapped him. When she raised her hand to do it a second time, Giovanni's father caught her wrist and said something, low and urgent. The woman gave them both a disgusted look and stormed out. Caleb, feeling safer now, crept closer and listened.

"…I'm disappointed in all of you, but especially in you, Giovanni. What if your friends had gotten hurt? What if you'd gone into the river? You all could have died."

"It's not like she'd care," Giovanni said sullenly.

His father's expression grew pained. "That's not true. I know she's…hard on you…but you can't let that drive you to take stupid risks. I know you can do better than this. You can be better than this."

Giovanni flinched. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to do something meaningful with your life. Not waste it like this."

"Well what if I want to be a thief?" Giovanni said.

Giovanni's father shook his head. "Why settle on such a small dream?" Then he placed his hands on Giovanni's shoulders. "Son, whatever you decide to do, it doesn't have to be what she wants. You know that, right?"

Giovanni looked away from his father. There were tears gleaming in his eyes. "…What about you? What do you want me to do?"

And Giovanni's father hugged him. "I just want you to be happy."

Caleb, reassured that his friend was safe, slipped away to rejoin his brother. The lecture he received when he got home, though, didn't stick with him as well as the conversation he'd overheard. It must have left an impression on Giovanni, too, because a few weeks later, when they were mucking out the stalls at the Pokémon Daycare, Giovanni turned to him and Nadia and asked, "I've been thinking about signing up for the League when summer starts. What do you guys think?"

Nadia and Caleb glanced at each other and nodded. They'd already discussed it more than once. Where Giovanni went, so would they. "We're in," they said together.

He beamed at them. "In that case." He pulled out two pokéballs. One of them was the one he'd hidden in the car. That one went to Nadia. "I want you guys to start out with the best. Go on, let them out!"

Caleb accepted the pokéball with a jolt of excitement. He tossed it into the air and said the release command. The light shot down from the sphere and materialized into something winged—a zubat! It wasn't blue, though, but green, and it looked bigger than the normal kind, with longer, sturdier wings. It swooped down, out of the rays of sunlight streaming in through the barn door, and attached itself to his arm. As Caleb tucked it against his chest, he noticed how soft and warm its fur was. He smiled and hugged it gently, not wanting to hurt it.

When he looked up, Giovanni was looking at him nervously. "I know a lot of people think that zubats are lame, but I swear, this one is actually good. It knows Steel Wing, and since we don't really have steel types around here, I thought that it would be—"

"Shut up. I love it," Caleb said with a grin. He had his very first pokémon. Who cared what anyone else thought? It was his! "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"It's a girl," Giovanni said with relief.

"I'll give her an awesome name." Then he looked over to see what Giovanni had gotten Nadia.

It was a meowth. Its fur seemed snowier than usual and the coin on its head was pale gold in color. Nadia was hugging it happily and scratching it behind the ears. "It's, um, a designer breed," Giovanni explained. "They bred her for beauty and friendliness and…some other things too," he trailed off with a blush. Caleb struggled not to laugh.

Nadia beamed at him. "Thank you! She's so pretty!"

"I, um, thought she'd suit you," Giovanni said. Caleb resisted the urge to slap his palm against his face. Oh Gio….

Nadia didn't seem to mind. "Do you have one too?"

Giovanni nodded and shifted his feet. "Well, it's not a meowth or a zubat, but…yeah."

Caleb nudged him. "Well come on. Show us!"

Giovanni gave them a sheepish grin and pulled a pokéball from his belt and tossed it into the air. The pokémon that materialized was a charmander, which clung shyly to his leg. Giovanni gave it a warm look. "My dad gave him to me." When he looked up, he seemed…anxious, as if he was worried about how they would react.

What, because they didn't have the traditional starters? So what? Any pokémon could become something special when you gave it your time and devotion, while supposedly "special" pokémon could be ruined by bad trainers. Caleb was perfectly happy with the pokémon his friend had given him. A glance at Nadia confirmed that she felt the same way. There was nothing for either of them to feel jealous about.

"That's great," Caleb told Giovanni. "Does he know any special moves yet?"

Giovanni shook his head and set a hand on the lizard's head. "Not yet, but he will someday. We're going to work on making him braver first."

Nadia smiled. "I'm sure he'll become the bravest charmander ever with your help."

Giovanni smiled. "Thanks."

"So when do you think we'll leave?" she asked with a flick of her hair, the red strands streaked with gold from the sunlight.

"As soon as we can, if that's good with you guys?"

Caleb, remembering how Giovanni's mother had slapped him and his father's wish for him to be happy, nodded. "We're ready when you are," he said, with Nadia chiming in her agreement.

Giovanni, in response, said nothing—but his smile was bright and carefree, and happier than the other ones he'd let them see.

In the years to come, the memory of that smile would break Caleb's heart.

Now:

Mewtwo had known more than his share of heartache. He hadn't realized there was a good version of it before now, though.

The children were giggling and tugging on his arms so he would get up and trek back up the hill with them. He'd been content to watch them sliding down the hill towards him—he'd kept his powers primed to catch them, just in case—but by their third time down the hill, they'd urged him to join them. And he had. He'd gone up to the stall at the top of the hill, where hot cocoa and cider were being sold and skates and sleds were being rented out. The attendant had given him an amused and knowing look when he'd requested a bigger sled this time.

Good luck keeping up with them, had been the man's advice. Mewtwo, for all that he was descended from a legendary pokémon, nonetheless found that that was harder for him to do than he'd thought. The children had so much energy.

But it was worth it. He was glad he'd thought of this. He wished that Cassandra was here with them, though. It seemed wrong that she wasn't. Perhaps next time, she will be, he thought, sitting up from where he was sprawled at the bottom of the hill. At Christopher's urging, he stood and began walking back up the hill, the sled trailing behind him.

Maya, having gotten bored of waiting, was already at the top of the hill, bouncing on her heels. "You took forever," she told him, but didn't actually seem upset.

"My apologies. I will try to be faster next time," he said. It might help if he wasn't so cold. He missed his fur, but as tempting as it was to shift into his true form (and maybe stretch out the officer's coat in the process), he shook the snow out of his clothes instead. "Shall we go again, since you waited so patiently?"

They nodded and clambered onto the sled, with him sitting behind them. They were both still small enough that they could seat themselves between the lengths of his legs. Though it was slow going at first to push their combined weight forward, soon enough, they started to slide. Once the nose of the sled tipped down and the speed got going, it felt like they were flying. The children shrieked and their fingers dug into his legs as they soared down the slope, and Mewtwo couldn't help but think, No, this is better than flying, thanks to the excitement bursting out of them. It would have been contagious even if he hadn't been an empath. That he was one only made the smile on his mouth widen.

After a certain point, he lost count of how many times they had gone up and down the hill. He knew it must have been a lot, though, given the stiffness in his knees and the slant of the shadows. Hearing the growl from one of the twins' stomachs, he suggested, "Why don't we have something to eat?" The vendor at the stall was passing out bowls of soup, which mostly seemed to consist of noodles, so its nutritional value was questionable. The food would be hot, though, which was what they needed.

As they sat down at the same table as the bodyguard, she smiled. "Did you have fun?" Anastasia asked the children.

Christopher nodded and Maya responded with an enthusiastic "Yes!" Mewtwo knew he shouldn't feel smug about that, considering his lack of involvement in their lives until now, and considering the fact that he wouldn't have known about sledding if not for Cassandra. But surely he could feel satisfied that his idea had been a success?

"I am glad you enjoyed it," he told them. "Though I feel like your mother deserves some credit. She taught me how to sled in the first place."

"Really?" Christopher asked.

"Yes. I had never experienced snow before—" He was certain that was right. He had spent his first winter with her. "—and I did not understand the appeal of it at first. Your mother enlightened me on the matter."

"How old were you two?" Anastasia asked, catching him off guard.

He thought back. "I believe she was fifteen. I was…somewhat younger." A lot younger, actually. When he thought back on Cassandra's age now, it seemed impossibly young to him. He hadn't thought of her or himself as being children back then—they certainly hadn't been treated as such by Giovanni—but technically, that was what they'd been. The thought was disquieting.

Anastasia made a thoughtful noise. "Well, it sounds like you had fun, at least."

He wondered what her impression of him was. Did she also think of him as Cassandra's abusive partner? The thought made his guilt, which he'd managed to forget about for the past two hours, twist in his gut. I never meant to hurt her. I merely did not know any better. Which did not excuse it, of course. He could not let himself think that it did.

He felt something—a light pressure—slide across his mind. He nearly flinched at it and nearly threw his powers back against it, but then he realized that it meant him no harm. He reigned his reaction in and lifted an eyebrow at Anastasia. One side of her mouth quirked upwards, and then a thought, shaded with her voice, prodded against his mental barriers.

He let it in and heard: "Would you like to talk about it later?"

"Talk about what?" he asked, lowering his eyes from hers to watch the children eat. His own bowl of soup was cooling in front of him untouched.

"The guilt you're feeling," she said, surprising him by not hedging.

"That is a personal thing to discuss with a stranger," he snapped back.

"Or it's exactly the thing you want to discuss with a stranger," she returned. She took a sip of her cider. "You can't talk about it with Cassandra, can you?"

No, he couldn't. But he didn't know this person. It seemed impossible to him that she would actually want to listen to him and help him. He wasn't sure if his certainty in that was the result of his paranoia, or his ingrained distrust of humans, or due to the fact that she must be on Cassandra's side by reason of association (which made him feel a fresh stab of guilt, because Cassandra was in the right. There was no other side to be argued, was there?), but he couldn't help but feel wary of the offer. What if she was just trying to see what he thought of Cassandra's verdict? What if he told her about what he was feeling and she used it against him? What if she told Cassandra he was irredeemable afterwards? Would her input be enough to sway Cassandra against him? She had been there for Cassandra when he hadn't been. It was possible.

Anastasia continued to give him that small smile, though, as if she thought he was being…well, either unintelligent or foolish. Perhaps both.

"Why are you offering this?" he asked.

She looked down at the children, who were slurping their soup. She hesitated, long enough for Mewtwo to start wondering if she was coming up with a lie, but then she said, "Because I know how it feels. It makes me want to help you."

"You cannot fix this," he said, because that was the truth. Nothing she could say or do would magically right the wrong choices he'd made.

"You're right," she said. "But I might be able to help you avoid making it worse."

He hadn't even considered that possibility. Under normal circumstances, he might had dismissed the idea, but the memory of Cassandra's anger and pain made him reconsider. "Very well. How do you suppose we discuss it with the children around?"

The twins needed their attention. Being distracted from that seemed like it would be tempting disaster, and Cassandra would never forgive him if he failed her in this. She'd asked him to do this one thing for her while she dealt with her father. He would do it. He had to.

"Let's go back to the house. They can keep playing in the snow there if they want to," she suggested. She watched Chris yawn and said, "Or they'll take a nap, one of the two. Looks like you ran them ragged."

"I feel as if that isn't a bad thing," he replied. He levitated their empty bowls without a thought into the nearby garbage can. One of the other diners jumped at the sight, but apparently it wasn't so unusual, given how his friend laughed and teased him afterwards. Mewtwo supposed that living among ghosts normalized such things.

"Not at all," Anastasia said, gathering their sleds and returning them to the vendor. She took Maya's hand and Mewtwo took Christopher's. They walked back to the house, with Maya chattering about going sledding and wanting to go again soon, while Chris seemed to be getting more and more tired with each step. Mewtwo considered hoisting the boy up into his arms, but then found himself shying away from the idea. It seemed like too much too soon—and he wasn't used to holding anyone in his arms besides Cassandra. Except perhaps Psyche, but it had been years since he had last seen her, and it would not have been the same anyway.

He wondered what his old friend would have thought of this. He wished it was her that he was going to be having this conversation with. Psyche had never shied away from telling him how she'd felt about his decisions, especially when she'd thought they were wrong or pigheaded. But she had also considered him her friend, so she had softened the blow of some of her words and had supported his choice to try to be with Cassandra again.

Even if Anastasia said she understood what he was feeling, it wouldn't be the same as talking to his friend. He hoped that, whenever Psyche was now, she had some inkling of how he missed her. At the same time, he was grateful that she wasn't anywhere near here. It was not safe in this country anymore, especially not for the people around him. And she had her own family to take care of now….

No doubt she was doing a better job with hers than he was with his.

Thirty-Five Years Ago:

We should have come home sooner, Caleb thought when they stepped into the threshold of the Maki family manor. He was dressed in a black suit that he'd had to borrow from Aaron. They were the same height now, which had disconcerted Caleb when he'd realized it. His brothers had always been bigger than him. That was part of how the world had worked. He'd even starting laughing at it, much to Aaron's dismay, since he'd thought that Caleb was having a breakdown, right there in the closet. Which was ultimately what it had led to, since Caleb had started crying into his brother's shoulder right afterwards.

Because Mr. Maki wasn't supposed to have died. Not now. Not like this.

Not that anyone had found a body—and from what he and Nadia had pieced together while Giovanni was stuck in his family meetings, there were conflicting accounts about what had happened. Some Rocket grunts were saying that Mr. Maki had gone out to meet with someone—maybe someone from a rival gang, or an investigator from the League, or someone high up in the military. One of them had even suggested that Mr. Maki was going to meet with a lover (at which point, Nadia had laughed in the grunt's face, much to the woman's displeasure).

Caleb thought that any of those options, except for the last one, could be true. There had been some disputes over territory recently. There were investigators snooping around, now that Team Rocket was getting involved in "bigger business enterprises," as Aaron had put it. And there were men and women here in military uniforms. That, more than anything else, didn't bode well. People like that didn't mix with people like them, unless there was something serious going on.

Caleb might have been a thief, but there were lines he wasn't willing to cross. He had his doubts that some of these other people, especially the reputable ones, were like that.

Nadia, dressed in what was, for her, a demure black dress, sidled up next to him. She laced her arm with his. "Have you heard anything new?" she asked. Her persian, Aina, kept close to her side, watching those around them intently.

He shook his head. "Have you?"

She guided them into an alcove, which Caleb recognized as the one he'd once seen Mrs. Maki slap Giovanni in. Nadia lowered her voice as she said, "I found some servants we knew back then." Back before they had left. "It took some digging. Turns out most of the staff is new." She didn't sound surprised.

"And what did our old friends say?" he asked.

"That Mr. and Mrs. Maki had been arguing." She saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, shocker, right? But I guess it was pretty bad, even for them. From what they overheard, I guess he wasn't happy about the direction she was taking the team in."

"It's probably related to those business enterprises Aaron kept referring to," Caleb guessed. "Did you notice who's come for the occasion?"

"Yeah, all of the good little soldiers of Kanto? Hard to miss. Those medals nearly blinded me coming in." She made a face at one of them, who glared back at her. "Also in really poor taste. Can they stop gloating for two seconds? It's a funeral, for fuck's sake."

"Well, he did serve with some of them," Caleb put in. "So some of them probably really are here to pay their respects. Dressing up in full uniform is a military thing, I think."

"Remind me to never sign up for that. I'd look hideous in one of those uniforms."

"You would. Cocktails dresses are more your thing," he said.

"They go better with the ring," she said. Then she glanced at her left hand and sighed. "Not that I get to wear it here."

"You don't want steal a dead man's thunder," Caleb said, nudging her in the side.

"He'd be happy for us, though," Nadia said. She looked into the main room, but Giovanni hadn't returned yet.

Caleb squeezed her arm. "He would have been. He always liked you. And you make Giovanni happy, so he would have approved, even if he'd thought you had the personality of a gyarados."

Nadia made a face. "Wow, thanks, Cal. You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"It's a gift," he said. A quiet moment stretched between them after that, and Caleb was tempted to let the conversation slide into safer topics—topics that had nothing to do with death. But the hushed voices around them and the shifting bodies, all dressed in black, made it hard to forget.

"I keep thinking," Nadia whispered. "It's stupid, but I keep thinking why now? If this had just waited a year…which is awful, because I wouldn't have wanted him to die then, but…."

"I get it," he said. "I mean, then he would have been there for your wedding. And he would have seen Giovanni take over the gym."

"He hasn't taken the offer yet," Nadia reminded him, though she was smiling. All three of them had done well in the last League circuit, but Giovanni had been a runner-up in the finals. It might not have given him the chance to take on the Elite Four, but it had drawn the interest of several League officials. The fact that he had chosen to specialize in ground types (with the exception of his starter), and that the Viridian Gym Leader was looking to retire, had fallen together neatly.

"But he's going to. He's probably already sketched out floor plans for it."

"He did have some ink of his nose last week, come to think of it…."

Caleb smiled at the image, but it faded as he heard someone start crying. He glanced over and saw that it was Nadia's sister, Natasha. He felt Nadia shift to go to her, but then someone else—their mother, it looked like—hugged her.

"Christ," Caleb swore, the atmosphere settling down on him again. They watched the others mill around. A few of them offered tissues to Natasha.

"Maybe we should just shoot Mrs. Maki," Nadia said. She sounded serious about it, too.

"We'd probably end up six feet under if we did," Caleb said.

"It might be worth it," she said.

He shook his head. "Just because they were arguing doesn't mean that she…."

It felt wrong to say it. It felt like it would make it real if he did. He knew that Giovanni's parents hadn't gotten along, and that Mrs. Maki was willing to cross lines that he wasn't. But that didn't mean that she was capable of murdering someone. Or at least not her own spouse.

"Maybe she didn't," Nadia said. "She kept telling everyone that he'd finally walked out."

"If that was true, he would have found us," Caleb said.

They both knew it. Mr. Maki had always taken them up on meeting with them during their journey, even when those meetings had conflicted with his business appointments. He'd spent the finals with them—the entire three weeks—and had introduced them all to whiskey during that time. They'd all been hungover during their matches the next day, but it had been worth it. If Mr. Maki had left his wife, they would have been the first people he'd have gone to afterwards.

Nadia squeezed his arm. "Yeah. I think even Antonio knew that. Hence—" She gestured to the room in front of them. "He knew he would have shown up sooner, if he wasn't—"

"To my brother's credit, he did send out a search party," Giovanni's voice came from behind them. They both jumped. When they turned around, they saw that he had a glass of wine in his hand. It didn't look like it had been his first or his third, either. "And he blubbered on my shoulder for a while, so it's not like he didn't care."

Caleb suspected that Giovanni had done some "blubbering" as well, given how red his eyes were, but he wasn't going to point that out. Nadia noticed too and went to her fiancé. "You okay?" she asked, hugging him.

"As okay as I can be," he said, sliding an arm around Nadia's waist. He glared at the main room. "As soon as the ceremony is over, let's go. There's nothing else worth staying for."

A few minutes later, the priest announced that they were going to get started, and everyone filed into the room with the casket. The front rows were reserved for members of Mr. Maki's family, but Giovanni insisted that Caleb and Nadia accompany him. They took the seats on either side of him. Caleb saw Madame Maki glance at them and frown, but she didn't tell them off. Antonio was seated on her other side, and beside him was his wife. Like her husband, she looked like she'd been crying. One of her hands was clutching his tightly, while the other one rested on the swell of her stomach. Caleb was uncomfortably reminded of the fact that Giovanni and Nadia's future wasn't the only one Mr. Maki would be missing. He'd never even gotten to meet his first grandchild.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

This was Caleb's first taste of what it meant to lose someone he loved. He sat there, hearing only half of what the priest and Mr. Maki's friends and family members said. None of this felt real to him. He kept waiting for someone to say that this was a joke, that it wasn't true, even though he knew that it was. Maybe it would have felt more real if he'd seen the corpse. Then he would know for sure that Mr. Maki was gone.

He jumped as Giovanni hissed something next to him. He looked at his friend and found him glaring down the row. It took Caleb a second to see what he was staring at.

Madame Maki hadn't gone back to her seat after her eulogy. She was standing at the end of the row, talking with one of the military men. Giovanni and Caleb were not the only ones watching her. Antonio was also glaring at his mother, while other mourners were staring and whispering. Before anyone could approach the pair, the last song of the ceremony began to play. As everyone rose from their seats, discussing who would go with whom to the cemetery, Caleb watched Madame Maki and the man break away and slip through the door to the hallway.

"Unbelievable," Giovanni seethed. "It's his funeral! That—" Nadia tried to hush him as he swore, but he shook his head and stood. Before either of them could stop him, he said, "I'll meet you both there," and went after his mother.

The casket was being lowered into the ground when Giovanni found them again. His hand clamped down on Caleb's wrist and he could tell by Nadia's curse that she was just as startled. They both turned and started to ask him what he was doing, but then shut their mouths when he tugged them back from the crowd insistently. His face was completely white and there was something that looked unnervingly like panic in his eyes.

"We need to go," he whispered to them.

"What? But the funeral's not over yet. We still have to—"

Giovanni tugged on their arms again, forcing them to take another step back. "I'm pretty sure my dad would understand. Come on!"

The desperate note in his voice was enough to stop Caleb from arguing. He and Nadia glanced at each, then nodded and followed their friend. When Giovanni saw that, some of the tension in his shoulders loosened. They walked as quickly as they could back to the edge of the cemetery, knowing they would draw attention to themselves if they ran. They made it back to their car without anyone stopping them. Caleb didn't know why he suddenly thought that somebody would. Maybe Giovanni's fear was rubbing off on him.

It was only after they'd gotten into their car and Giovanni started driving them away—towards the eastern routes, instead of back to Viridian or the Maki Manor—that Nadia managed to ask her fiancé what was wrong.

He turned down the road into Viridian Forest. "The League is planning to—"

That was as far as he got before something smashed into them.

Now:

A snowball exploded on the beam next to Mewtwo, splattering his coat. He brushed the snow off and, with his telekinesis, sent a few snowballs flying back towards the children. They squealed as they dodged, then renewed their efforts. They had yet to get close to hitting Anastasia. The woman had formed a shield around herself and declared herself a neutral party. This did not stop Christopher or Maya from trying to draw her into their game, though. From the way her lips were tugging into a smile, Mewtwo thought they might succeed, regardless of her declaration of neutrality.

"So you had something you wanted to discuss with me?" Mewtwo said.

Anastasia nodded. Her brow furrowed and she frowned as she seemed to consider what words she wanted to say. Then she said, "What I'm about to tell you is something I haven't shared with Cassandra or the others. Can you promise not to mention it to them?"

"Is it that bad?" he asked.

"Yes. Though I think they would be sympathetic. But it's not something that I'm proud of or feel comfortable with sharing. And it hasn't been relevant until now," Anastasia said.

Mewtwo deflected another snowball, which hit the wind chime above them with a jangle. He stilled the chime with his powers and checked that it hadn't been broken. "And?"

Anastasia licked her chapped lips. "…I have a son. He's ten years old. But I haven't been allowed to be his mother for eight years."

Mewtwo stared at her. "Your wording implies that you did something wrong where he was concerned."

Anastasia scuffed the toe of her boot against the porch. "I did. Not intentionally, but I did." She sighed, her breath weaving around her scarf. "I was a late bloomer, psychically. I started getting the migraines when I was in college. I thought they were from stress and the lack of sleep I was getting. When things started to move on their own and the curtains of my apartment caught on fire, my husband and I came up with all sorts of explanations—that maybe we were haunted, or he'd hadn't put out his cigarettes properly. We had a cemetery on campus, so ghosts were a more reasonable explanation than psychic abilities. When we graduated and moved away, the strange things that were happening seemed to stop. So we thought that our theory was right. We even joked about it with our new neighbors."

"I imagine getting more sleep and not being as stressed contributed to your powers mellowing out, for a time," Mewtwo assessed.

Anastasia nodded. "It didn't last. The headaches started again within six months. Worse this time. I took medication, but of course that didn't fix the problem. We got referrals to multiple doctors about what the problem might be. As far as they could tell, nothing was wrong with me. And then we found out that I was pregnant. Suddenly the headaches didn't seem like a big concern anymore."

"But they were," Mewtwo guessed.

She nodded. "I was sick throughout most of my pregnancy. I lost weight instead of gaining it. My son was born underweight. And by the time he was born, my telepathy and empathy were both coming in. My mood swings were more severe than they should have been. I kept hearing voices. I started responding to them, thinking that my friends and family members were talking. So of course they took me to see more doctors, who misdiagnosed me. I was put on medication that only made me feel worse."

She took a deep breath. "I started lashing out, psychically and verbally. And my husband started to wonder if I was safe to be around."

She glanced over at Mewtwo's face and must have seen something in his expression, because she bit her lip and looked away. "He loved me. He wouldn't have stayed with me, trying to help me for two years, if he didn't. But I could feel his fear. I could hear him wondering if he should leave Brandon alone with me. And eventually, I convinced myself that he didn't really love me anymore. I convinced myself that he was going to take our son away."

Anastasia shook her head, the lines around her eyes looking deeper than they had a moment ago. "It made me desperate. I loved Brandon more than anything. I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from him. So I took him and the car and drove away."

She burrowed herself deeper into her hood. Mewtwo could feel the shame radiating off of her and nearly edged away from discomfort, but he held himself still in spite of it. "My husband figured out what I'd done shortly afterwards. He called the police. They came after us. We ended up in a car accident. And while we weren't hurt by it, the police who approached our car were. My powers forced them back. One of them broke his leg when he fell. Another one hit his head and didn't wake up for two days. The last one managed to get up and calm me down enough to sedate me."

"Did they realize what the true problem was at that point?" Mewtwo asked.

She nodded. "That police officer was from Saffron. He'd seen the damage Sabrina had done when she was coming into her powers. He contacted her while my family was deciding what to do with me," Anastasia said, with a touch of bitterness in her voice. "When Sabrina came, she offered to take me away and train me. My family jumped at the offer. I understand why they did, of course. Brandon hadn't been hurt, but he easily could have been. So I needed to be separated from him and taught how to control myself. But it still hurt. And it took me a long time to stop being angry with them for that. Sometimes, I still am," she admitted.

"And you haven't seen your son since?"

She shook her head. "They've let me visit. There have been times when I thought I was well enough to be more involved in his life. But you can't rush through psychic training. And you can't rush through fixing the damage you caused, either," she said, looking over to Mewtwo and meeting his eyes. "Even if you didn't mean it, you can't erase that pain."

Was that the point of her story? To tell him something he already knew? "Do you think I am confused about that fact?" he asked tersely.

"I think you're confused about how long the recovery process is going to take," she corrected. "I wasn't patient enough with myself, so I've backslid a few times over the years. I shattered a window when my son startled me. I argued with my husband until his jacket started smoking. I set our Christmas tree on fire when I got angry thinking about all of the Christmases I'd missed with them. And afterwards, I felt like a monster. I felt like I could never get better. I apologized so many times that it felt like the words didn't mean anything anymore. And they didn't make any of us feel better."

She looked across the yard, to where the twins were now building a snowman. "These past few years have been a probationary period for me. I'm proving that I'm safe to be around my son again. And I am doing better. I haven't lost control in years. But I couldn't have done that if I'd kept doing what I was doing. As long as I kept dwelling on the past and my mistakes—some of which weren't even my fault—I couldn't move forward."

"So you're saying that it's useless to feel guilt over what we've done?"

She shook her head. "No. In moderation, guilt is useful. It can help teach us what we did wrong and what we can't do again in the future. But if you dwell on it, it will make you hate yourself—and once that happens, you won't be able to think clearly anymore. You'll make even more mistakes and you'll feel even worse. It becomes a negative feedback loop." She reached up to tighten her scarf around her face. "And even if you get out of it alright, you'll look back on the years you wasted to guilt and regret it."

Mewtwo looked at where the children were now sitting in the snow, making a snow-dog at the feet of their stout snowman. What Anastasia was suggesting made logical sense, but it still ran counter to what he felt was the right thing to do. He had hurt his loved ones. He should feel guilty about that. As long as he felt guilty, he would never forget what he'd done or repeat his mistakes. He would remember to be careful. He would remember to keep himself in check. That didn't seem like punishing himself, as awful as his shame might feel when he dwelt on it. It felt like he was being responsible in reminding himself of what he'd done wrong. Letting the guilt go, especially so soon…that didn't seem right. That felt like denying what had happened instead. Cassandra would be furious if he did that. He didn't think he could face himself if he was so shameless now, after he'd been confronted with his sins.

Anastasia seemed to follow his line of thinking, because she said, "How you move forward is up to you. But I thought…well, I thought my story might help you. I never intended to hurt my loved ones. And I don't think you did either." She gave him a sympathetic smile. "We just…weren't taught how to control ourselves around others. But we can fix that, now that we know. We can become better people if that's who we want to be."

Mewtwo did want that—and it was admittedly comforting, to look at his past actions as mistakes, rather than proof that he was a monster. He was still uneasy, though. If he'd had his tail, it would have been flicking back and forth from his agitation. "And will we be forgiven then, if we prove ourselves?"

"Maybe. That's up to them, though."

"So we will be laboring without any assurance of reward," he noted.

"That's true. Though I'd like to think becoming a better person is its own reward," she replied. "Do you think you can do it? Work to be better, even if there's a chance that Cassandra will never forgive you for what you did?"

Thinking of Cassandra still hating him in the future made him want to throw himself into a stone wall, since battering his body seemed like it would hurt less. But at least he would have tried to make things right and would know that he had done all that he could. He could not give up now—not when there was a chance that Cassandra could forgive him. And maybe that wasn't a selfless motive—maybe that was missing the point that Anastasia was trying to make—but maybe his motive would become worthier in time.

"I have to try," he said, looking at Christopher and Maya, who were finished with their dog and were tromping back to the porch. He had to try for them and for Cassandra.

"That's all any of us can ask for," Anastasia said. Out loud, she asked, "Are you two ready to go inside?"

Chris nodded and yawned, while Maya sighed and said, "I guess. My coat's all wet."

"I can fix that," Mewtwo said, gently taking hold of the fabric and sending his power through it to warm and dry it. He did the same for Christopher's jacket afterwards.

Maya's eyes brightened. "Can you teach us that?"

"I can try to," he said, offering her his hand. "But first, you and your brother should take a nap."

"Awww," Maya whined, but she took his hand anyway.

Mewtwo offered his other hand to Christopher, who took it eagerly, and together they headed back into the house, with Anastasia following along behind them.

Thank You: Larka and Atomoemyu for beta-reading this chapter. Thank you to Mai-danishgirl, Leone the Infernal, Mysti Rose, Vinylshadow, Omegaprime02, ShiningLily, Meneldur, Zek, THE FIRE WITHIN, Ariel-Mystic-Siren, and OmegaIsMyHomebot for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I hope you and my other readers will do the same for this one! Finally, a special thank you to Ashora, who drew my attention to how flat the new characters in this story are. While I can't promise to be able to make them riveting in the chapters we have left, I now have some ideas for how to make them serve a purpose where Mewtwo's and Cassandra's personal journeys are concerned. Without your input, that wouldn't have happened, so again, thank you.

Author's Note: As you can tell from the "Part 1" in the chapter heading, this is not the whole chapter. At a certain point, though, "Sins of the Father" would have been too long to post in one sitting, so I decided to divide it up and post the first forty pages of it. I hope this was worth the wait. I also hope that you don't mind me exploring Giovanni's backstory in scene like this, even if it's very late in the story to do so (this is what happens when you stretch writing a story out for over ten years—your pacing goes awry).

So I am tentatively back, but progress from me will continue to be slow, since I'm in graduate school right now. However, the more responses I get for this chapter, the sooner I will start working on the next one. I'm willing to write this story out to its end, as long as I have a few dedicated readers who want it to be finished. Even if that takes me another ten years to accomplish (though let's hope that it doesn't). Just let me know if you guys want to see more of this. That's all I need to keep going with it.

As always, thank you for reading.

Sincerely,

WiseAbsol